by SJD Peterson
They shook hands only briefly, not saying a word, seeming to size each other up. I was left to fill another silence. I felt obligated to fill it. “So, Hugh, I didn’t expect to see you here.” It wasn’t an outright lie. I had hoped, but expected? No.
“My dinner offer is still open.”
“I doubt he’s hungry—we just came back from ice cream,” Jason put in.
I glared at Jason. “I can speak for myself, thank you very much.” I hated when people did that. Jason had the good sense to look properly chastised. Of course, that only made Hugh smile smugly. I swallowed down my sigh. What I should have done was turn Hugh down. Then I could have gone home, locked myself in my apartment, and studied my lines. I could have kept company with Edgar, the recluse uncle.
“Hugh and I have a few things to discuss,” I said before thinking better of it. It wasn’t what I’d meant to say. I meant to turn Hugh down, but obviously my brain hadn’t gotten the memo.
“Well, good night, then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jason said, not sounding the least bit happy.
“Sure. Tomorrow,” I agreed.
Jason and Hugh nodded at each other. I followed Hugh across the street to his car. With him, I always felt as if I were being pulled along by his dominant presence. One step behind like the good little submissive I should be.
Screw that!
I caught up quickly and snatched the passenger door open before Hugh could, and I climbed inside. Hugh gave me a strange look, then shrugged and closed the door. I glanced through the side window toward the theater. Jason was still standing there on the sidewalk, watching. I turned away and stared straight ahead.
Hugh got in beside me, fired up the engine, and pulled out onto the road. Hugh didn’t speak, and he didn’t ask me where I’d like to go for dinner. It occurred to me that if it was Jason, he would have at least asked my opinion on what type of food I wanted, and there certainly wouldn’t be this uncomfortable silence. By now Jason would have been making some joke about having won my favor for the evening before going a mile a minute about his life or probing cheerfully into mine. Funny, I could surmise all these things about Jason Collins after having known him only a short while, yet never knew what Hugh was thinking or doing after knowing him all these years.
“Hugh, do you ever wonder what I’m thinking?”
Hugh glanced at me, then concentrated on his driving. “That’s a peculiar question.”
“Not really. Take tonight, for instance. You showed up at the theater, even though I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Did you do it just because of what you wanted, or were you actually speculating that I wanted you to show up?”
Hugh seemed to give this some consideration. “This may surprise you, Ben, but I’ve often wondered during the past year if you’re happy, if you’re finding what you want. But as far as tonight, I wanted to see you, and I figured the worst thing that could happen was you’d say no. You’re looking for confirmation that I’m insensitive, arrogant…. What else did you use to call me?”
“Dictatorial,” I supplied. “And feudal—I think I called you that once too.”
“Ah yes, now I remember. Does the opinion still stand?”
Now I was the one who needed a minute to think things over. “Yes,” I said finally. “I’m afraid it does.”
When I looked at Hugh, there was a ghost of a smile curling his upper lip. At least I thought I saw one. It was difficult to tell in the dim interior of the car.
As Hugh maneuvered deftly through traffic, I compared him to Jason once again. Being with Jason was nice, the conversation easy. With Hugh, tension dominated. I was always trying to guess what he was thinking, and the conversation was forced. When had that happened? I remembered a time when Hugh and I talked with that same ease. Hadn’t we? We must have—or was I blinded by my love for Hugh? I wasn’t sure anymore. All I knew was that now, everything with Hugh was strict, refined, strangling. “Let me guess where you’re taking me. It will be a restaurant we’ve never been to together, but it will be very elegant. Of course, you won’t even notice how impossibly elegant it is because you’re so accustomed to that type of thing.”
“You keep trying to pretend that your background is different from mine. There’s a certain snobbery in that, even if you are living in a dive.”
“Don’t you have something disparaging to say about the theater?”
“Okay, that’s a dive too,” Hugh said gruffly. “But I’m still glad you got your break. And I’d like to see your play.”
That was a disturbing notion—Hugh watching me perform. Just the thought of him being in the audience someday made me uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply stared out the window without seeing anything. I was suddenly on edge and regretting my decision of allowing Hugh to take me to dinner. The midtown traffic jam only added to my ill mood. By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the stress had knotted my muscles. I tried rolling my neck, but it only popped and cracked without doing anything to relieve the tension.
No surprise, the Italian restaurant Hugh had chosen was elegant. I refrained from rolling my eyes as the maître d’ showed us to our table but just barely. This was so typical Hugh. I’d always believed it was such a waste of money when the same meal, and a damn good one, could be obtained for a quarter of the price.
“You’re a long way from Charleston. Are you going to tell me why you came all this way?”
“I already told you. I wanted to go to dinner with you. And here we are.”
“You’re so full of it.”
“You don’t believe me, Benny?” His voice always went a little husky when he called me that. Could he possibly know the effect it had on me? For my sake, I hoped not.
“No, I don’t. You’ve been taking an awful lot of time away from the office these days. It’s not like you.”
“I’ve been giving more duties to Martin lately. He’s become quite capable.” Martin Schuler was his assistant. He’d been with Hugh for ten years. He’d been more than capable about six months after he started. “Besides,” Hugh continued, “I had anticipated being off for your mother’s wedding, so there isn’t much I’m missing.”
I should have known Hugh wasn’t taking time away from his precious office for me. He never did. I hid my disappointment behind my menu. I wasn’t hungry, but knowing Hugh as I did, he’d just try to order for me, anyway. When the server arrived at the table, I quickly ordered the chicken alfredo—it could be easily warmed up later—and a Coke. No way was I taking a sip of alcohol. I’d already proven it was a bad idea to drink when I was around Hugh. I had learned from my mistake. It didn’t matter that the last time we hooked up I was stone-cold sober. I still had a hard time resisting Hugh, but I was working on it.
As soon as the waiter moved away, Hugh said, “From the look of things, you seem to be getting along pretty well with that Collins fellow.”
“It’s easy to get along with Jason. Not that it’s really any of your—”
“But I’d like to know something about this mystery man I’ve heard of.”
I stifled a curse. The mystery man was starting to have a life all his own. “You should know by now to ignore anything my mother says. She always exaggerates.”
Hugh studied me across the table. His eyes seemed even darker than usual. “Something tells me that Collins isn’t the real danger. It’s this other man, the one you won’t talk about.”
“Danger? That’s an interesting way to put it.”
“He’s the one you care about, isn’t he?” Hugh persisted. “You might as well tell me, Ben. You never could keep a secret.”
I made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a laugh, and which did not at all adequately express my frustration. “Just leave it alone. I’m not going to talk about it to you or Jason or—”
“So, Collins is worried about this mystery man too? Hmm, all the more proof.”
I wanted to yell, but somehow I kept my voice at a moderate level. “Proof
of what? Why are you suddenly so curious about my love life, Hugh? It’s been a year. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
“Tell me about the mystery man,” Hugh said, completely ignoring my questions.
I picked up my water glass and took a sip to wet my suddenly dry throat. Hugh was so damn curious about the mystery man. Fine. He was going to get an earful, and I’d be damned if I’d sugarcoat it. “You asked for it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
JUST THEN, the server arrived at our table with a tray heavily laden with pasta, salad, and bread, and I had a few more minutes to decide what I was going to say. The scent of savory garlic and parmesan cheese wafted up from the plate of chicken alfredo. It smelled too good not to at least try it. I twirled my fork in the pasta and took a small bite. The thick cream sauce was delicious.
“So this mystery man,” Hugh prompted before popping a large bite of steak into his mouth.
“Well, to be honest he is a very difficult person.” I took a swig of Coke before I continued. “He’s not the most talkative person nor does he like to share his feelings. I sometimes wonder if he even has any. Other times… well, other times I know that of course he has to have them. But how deeply he feels about things, I don’t know because he is pretty closed off. I wish I knew why.”
“This mystery man… sounds familiar.”
“Does he?” I frowned a little. “I’d really like to get to know him, but it’s like he hides who he really is behind a mask. I’m always trying to guess how he feels.”
“A real forthcoming person, your mystery man.” Hugh moved his food around his plate with his fork. “Sounds like he’s earned his name. But maybe you should give him a little more credit. Maybe he shows his concern, instead of talking about it all the time.”
“You’re taking his side?” Talking about the mystery man enabled me to step away a little from my own life, as if I were standing back to watch us interacting. What did I see? Two people who could never seem to come to agreement on what love meant. Two people with different needs. I wanted openness and unapologetic devotion. Hugh wanted a partner who wouldn’t constantly probe his emotions. Yes. We were two very different people.
“I do believe he’s concerned about me, this mystery man. I believe he cares about me in a certain way. But it’s just not enough. I want more than his concern. I want… passion. Not just the physical kind, though. I’m talking about emotional passion. I just don’t know if he has that to give me, or anyone. Maybe it’s just not in his nature.”
Hugh studied me very carefully. Did he understand what I was trying to say? With Hugh, it was impossible to know. True to form, he kept his deepest reactions from me. “So what are you going to do, Ben? Will you try to turn this man into your ideal partner?”
“No. True change has to come from within. He first has to recognize the need to do so, then desire to do so.”
Hugh suddenly seemed more interested in his meal than the conversation. He’d always done that in the past, ignored me when any topic bothered him. Which usually meant it had to do with those pesky emotions. It was so damn frustrating, and honestly, I had no idea why I continued to put myself through the misery. Hugh wasn’t going to change. He was what he was, and I either had to learn to accept it, give in to the physical desires my body craved and ignore my heart and mind, or walk away once and for all.
The silence was heavy. The meal was now like sludge on my tongue, and I had a difficult time swallowing it down. Hugh had no such problem and cleaned his plate as well as the bread and salad.
“If you’re still hungry, you’re welcome to mine.”
Hugh stared at my plate for a second. I could tell he wanted it, but he shook his head. “Thanks, but I know how much you like your leftovers. You’re the only person I know who thinks pasta tastes better the next day.”
“It does. The pasta soaking in the sauce all night. Delish! I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so, but I am surprised you even noticed.”
“I notice a lot more than you think,” Hugh said.
“Really?” I wasn’t sure if that was true, at least not when it came to me. Then again, if Hugh knew such a trivial thing about me, how could he not know the important things? It was a question I wasn’t going to find the answers to anytime soon. I’d been contemplating it for years.
I had my dinner boxed up, and we left the restaurant. Hugh drove me to my apartment. The silence went with us.
When Hugh pulled up to my building, I glanced at him. “Thanks for the great conversation and dinner,” I said snappishly.
“I’m walking you up to your apartment.”
“Sorry, bud, not this time.”
“Ben, this is a lousy neighborhood. I’m going to walk you to your door and make sure you get in okay. That’s all.”
If I remembered correctly, those were almost the exact words Hugh had used the first time—the night he’d come to tell me about my mother’s wedding. The next morning I’d woken up with Hugh in my bed, all because I had allowed him to walk me to my door.
“Forget it.” I opened the door and stepped out of the car. My decision wasn’t open for discussion, just as Hugh’s emotions hadn’t been. I needed to be away from him, needed time to process. I hurried into my building and up the first flight of rickety stairs. The elevator was out again, but I didn’t trust it much even on its good days. The building had at least one pretense of safety—bare bulbs hung from a cord on each landing. Unfortunately, the wiring looked frayed and the lights often flickered.
I hadn’t even made it to the first landing when Hugh reached my side.
“Dammit, Hugh! Why do you have to be such a pain in my ass?”
“Just part of my charm.” Hugh winked.
I stood and glared at him for a second. I debated about whether to stand my ground and refuse to budge until Hugh left. From the determined glint in his eye, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Bastard. I could be stubborn too. Hugh could follow me all he wanted, but I’d be damned if I’d let him into my apartment.
I tromped up the stairs, passing the second floor… the third…
“Ben, would it be so bad if you took some money from your trust fund for a decent place to live? Would that really destroy your independence?”
“This is good exercise.”
Fourth story… fifth… sixth…
“Everyone is born with certain advantages and disadvantages,” Hugh argued. “It makes sense to use what you’re given.”
“It makes sense to find out what you can do on your own.”
Seventh… eighth… ninth….
We were both breathing heavily by the time we reached the tenth floor. I was pleased to see that I seemed to be in just as good of shape as Hugh. I worked the locks on my door. Before I opened it, I turned around to face Hugh.
“Okay, I’m safe. Thank you for walking me to my door.”
“Ben….” Hugh ran the back of his knuckles along my jaw. “I worry about you living here.”
With that simple gesture, a tingling sensation raced down my spine. I pressed into Hugh’s touch. “I’ll make sure my doors are locked. You probably should go.” Protest was coming out of my mouth, but my hands were reaching to pull Hugh into an embrace.
Hugh leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I opened to him, welcoming him in, giving as good as I was getting. I tightened my hold on him as I explored his mouth with my tongue. As the kiss deepened, I pressed harder against Hugh’s muscular body. He pressed me against the rough wood of the door. Kissing him was as easy as breathing, and I couldn’t get enough. My brain short-circuited, and pure carnal lust rushed through me at a dizzying speed. Every cell in my body craved him. I was addicted to him. Being an addict was rarely a good thing. The realization brought back some of my common sense.
I dragged my mouth away and pressed my forehead against his chest. My breath came in short pants, and it took me a second to solidify my new resolve. I would not be Hugh’s junkie. “You need to go,” I
finally said.
“I want you.” Hugh ground his erection against mine. “You want me. Don’t deny us what we need.”
I lifted my head and stared at him. “So you showed up and walked me to my door just so you could fuck me again?”
Hugh scowled, but it didn’t hide the lust that was still shining in his dark eyes. “You know there is a lot more to us than fucking, as you so crudely put it. And what’s so horrible about wanting to share your bed? We’re very good at it.”
“You haven’t changed, Hugh. You never will and quite honestly, neither will I.” With the only shred of willpower I had left, I turned and slipped inside my apartment. I closed the door on a startled Hugh and engaged the locks. I leaned my forehead against the doorjamb and closed my eyes. I knew he still waited on the other side. I was thrumming, my cock achingly hard. My traitorous body fought against my will, but somehow, I stayed where I was. I didn’t reach for the lock. I didn’t open the door. After what felt like an eternity, I finally heard the sound of footsteps receding down the hall… away from me.
I turned, pressed my back against the door, and slid down till I was sitting. My pulse had finally slowed as had my breathing, but I was shaken. I’d nearly given in to Hugh again. I hated how weak I was around him. I hated that I didn’t know how to stop even more.
JASON TOSSED a large straw hat toward me as if it were a Frisbee. “Try that. Looks like something Edgar would wear.”
I put the hat on my head, then picked up a 1950s-style hand mirror to study the effect. “No way! Edgar would see this hat as silly. That’s the last thing he wants to be. He’s very concerned about how others see him.”