by SJD Peterson
I instantly felt guilty, which was ridiculous. Hugh was my ex. He’d shown up unannounced, and I didn’t have to explain myself. “I… um….” I gestured with my free hand at the bicycle. “This is just a little overwhelming.”
“Look, I’ll have someone pick up the bike later when your elevator’s working.”
“You carried it all the way up here?” Which, duh, was a really stupid question. How else would he have gotten it up here?
He didn’t answer my question. “Like I said, I’ll have it picked up later.” Then he left the apartment, closing the door after him.
I stood there dumbfounded, staring long after Hugh left. Just moments before, I would have sworn there wasn’t a single romantic bone in Hugh’s body. I ran my fingers over the petals of the bundle of daisies sitting in the wire basket. Hugh never bought me flowers unless he had his secretary send them on my birthday. And a bike ride in Central Park? Who was that guy and what had he done with my ex?
“That went well,” Jason said from behind me.
I spun around and gawked at him. “I’d hate to see your idea of something that didn’t go well.”
“No one ended up in the hospital or jail, I’d say that was a win.” A buzzer went off. “Oh, and look, dinner is done.”
I followed Jason into the kitchen. “You know, you didn’t have to antagonize him.”
“I did no such thing,” Jason said flippantly.
“Whatever! You knew that’s exactly what you were doing when you moved up close to me like you were taking possession of me.” I crossed my arms.
Jason didn’t respond until he had two plates of spaghetti plated. “Hey, I was just following your lead. You told him he couldn’t, and I was just making sure he didn’t.” He held up a plate. “Hungry?”
I was about to protest, wanting to talk about what just happened, but my stomach betrayed me by growling loudly. I huffed out a breath, then took the plate. I was glad someone found the situation funny because I sure as hell didn’t.
I took my plate to the table. Jason took the other chair across from me. I didn’t look up—he’d just crack some silly joke and make me smile. Jason had an annoyingly creative way of doing that. I swirled my fork in the noodles, picked up a good amount, and shoved it into my mouth.
It was delicious. At least something good had come out of the evening. I was going to need my energy to deal with the epic crap that had just landed in my lap. I stole a glance at the bike with a basket full of daisies. Christ, my life was fucking complicated.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JASON PLACED a ball of putty on his nose, then slowly began shaping it. I sat across from him, watching in a sort of unwilling fascination. Jason was making himself up for a benefit performance tonight. This was his third attempt at creating a new nose. Apparently, he was a perfectionist when it came to such matters.
I examined the trays of supplies on the counter. It wasn’t as impressive as those given to the contestants on Face Off. Then again, Jason was turning himself into an old man, not a cosmic circus challenge. “How long have you been doing makeup?”
“Since before my first role when I was in first grade. I figured, when no one wants me to be an actor anymore, I can become a makeup artist.” Jason, finally satisfied with the shape of his nose, proceeded to stipple the texture.
“I’ve noticed that acting doesn’t seem to…. Well, I mean you don’t seem to take it that seriously, and I think that’s why you enjoy it so much.”
“You don’t sound like you’re paying me a compliment,” Jason remarked. “You sound like you’re complaining.”
“No, that’s not it at all. I admire you for it. With me, I seem to take everything way too seriously. Acting in particular. The harder and harder I try to grasp Edgar’s character, the more it escapes me. I’m really beginning to worry about it.”
Jason had started in on the greasepaint, but he turned to look at me. The humped nose made him appear rather sagacious. “You’re definitely not relaxing with the part,” he said. “Maybe I’m imagining things, but you’ve been worse since the bicycle thing.”
I wished he wouldn’t keep referring to it that way, as “the bicycle thing.” I wished Jason wouldn’t refer to it at all, but he seemed to have a need to keep bringing it up.
“Jason, that was almost a week ago. I’ve tried to put it behind me. You should do the same.”
“If you’ve put it behind you, then why is that bike still cluttering up your living room?”
“I’m sure Hugh will send someone to pick it up soon.”
“You seem to like having it around,” Jason persisted. He made the bike sound as if it was Hugh I was keeping in my apartment. Ha! Hugh living in my dive. That would be the day.
“The truth is, I’m hardly ever in my apartment,” I said lightly. “If we’re not rehearsing, you’re always taking me off somewhere. Take tonight, for instance, the benefit where you’ll be performing.”
Jason picked up his greasepaint stick and tapped it against his palm. “Sounds like you’re complaining again. Ever since the bicycle thing, you haven’t seemed quite as happy with me.”
“Jason, will you stop with the goddamn bicycle thing,” I snapped.
“I know I promised to try and be your friend, but dammit, Ben, I love you.”
Jason had never said it quite that way before. It had always been, Ben, I think I’m falling in love with you. This time, there were no qualifiers. It was a simple, clear-cut “I love you.” He sat there with his putty nose, waiting for me to respond, and I couldn’t.
“I wish I knew what it would take to get him out of your head,” Jason said at last. “And I wish I knew what it would take to get that damn bike out of your living room.”
I felt an ache inside, an ache that was becoming more and more familiar. “Maybe we just need to give it some time,” I said quietly.
Jason frowned. “Are you going to tell me that we’re rushing it? I haven’t even tried to hold your hand or kiss you in weeks. If that’s rushing it….”
Jason didn’t need to finish the statement. I knew exactly what he meant. “Can we please not get into this right now?”
He seemed about to say something more but then went back to creating his new face. Jason shaded lines onto his forehead and cheeks with a brush, then used another along his jaw.
By now I was aware of all of Jason’s good qualities. I enjoyed being with him, loved the way he could always make me smile even when I didn’t feel like it. I had grown to genuinely care about Jason. So, why couldn’t I take the next step? Jason obviously cared for me, so why was I holding back?
If I was being completely honest, that bicycle in my living room plagued me with other unanswered questions. Why had Hugh shown up so unexpectedly? What had he intended? Had he simply been trying another method to get me into bed? Except it didn’t seem like Hugh’s style. He wasn’t one to use subterfuge. And those flowers… those flowers had seemed genuinely romantic. Flowers that, for some reason, I hadn’t been able to take out of the wire basket. They were wilting there, dropping petals all over my floor.
And that brought me to another question. Why hadn’t Hugh sent someone to pick up the bicycle as he’d promised? It almost seemed as if he was leaving it with me as some sort of reminder. A reminder of what? Perhaps none of those questions merited an answer. Whatever Hugh had intended that day, it was just too late to find out. Because I had gone on with my life. I was starting to get involved with another man. A man who loved me. Only one thing was lacking. I had to decide if I loved Jason back. When I did, well, everything would be settled.
Jason had finished his makeup job, and it was a bit startling. There were subtle grooves on his cheeks and across his forehead, and even more subtle shadowing along his jaw. It was the sort of face that would do very well for the part of the Edwardian gentleman Jason was playing tonight.
“Just think. You stick with me, Ben, and you could come home to someone different every night.”
; “No, thank you. I’ll stick with the original.”
“Do you mean that?” Jason was suddenly very serious.
“Of course, but if you think I’m going to fall at your feet and swear my eternal devotion, you’ve got another think coming, mister,” I said in a light tone. I ruffled his hair playfully. “C’mon, let’s see if you can impress me with your acting skills as much as you have with your makeup talents.”
Jason stuck out his bottom lip in a mock pout, the slight smile curling his lip ruining the effect. I had no doubt that Jason would love for me to declare my undying love for him. The fact that he could still smile after he’d told me he loved me and I hadn’t been able to do the same was even more impressive than the transformation he’d made in his appearance.
A short while later, we caught the subway uptown. Jason enjoyed sitting on the train in his high starched collar, homburg hat, and theatrical makeup, already in character as an Edwardian gentleman. But if he expected to draw stares or comments, I knew he was bound to be disappointed. The jaded New York commuters took him in stride.
We arrived at the Atwood, a beautiful old hotel with an ornate facade of Gothic arches. The place was equally gracious and ornate on the inside. Soon I was part of the audience in the large banquet room, watching the opening act on stage. Jason belonged to a troupe that periodically put on plays to benefit different charities. Tonight’s performance was part of a fund-raiser for a medical research foundation. And it was a delightful performance—a farcical murder-mystery romance. Jason portrayed a very proper gentleman caught up in solving the crime.
He was a good actor, there was no denying. Jason seemed immersed in the role without letting it burden him, conveying the sense that he was quietly poking fun at the character he played. Such an attitude was perfect for tonight’s comedy. I watched him with a mixture of envy and admiration.
I was a fortunate man, I told myself, to have Jason in my life. Yes. Very fortunate indeed.
I just had to keep telling myself that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I ARRIVED at work to find an honor bestowed on me. For the first time ever, I would be allowed to move up to cashier. Mel had been assigned to teach me the ropes. Only, if one of the requirements was to greet the customers with a smile, she failed miserably.
Mel’s face looked drawn today, her movements too meticulous, too precise, as if she feared that at any moment something inside her might shatter. “Always count the money back to them,” she said, a forced briskness in her voice. “And whatever you do, don’t forget to ask if they would like their receipt.” She nodded to the sign taped to the counter. It informed the customer that if we forgot, their next meal was free.
“What happens if I forget?” I asked.
“You know Geovanni.” Mel’s tone was mocking now. “He says that we all have to pay for our mistakes if we’re to learn from them.”
I glanced at her. Mel’s face still had that pinched look, as if she was trying very hard to contain all her difficult emotions.
“How’s it going?” I asked gently. “We’ve hardly had a chance to talk lately.”
“Everything’s fine,” Mel said crisply. “Just fine.”
“School going okay?”
“Of course school is going okay. And for your information, Ben, everything’s fine with Toby too. That’s what you really want to know about, isn’t it? Whether or not I’m still seeing Toby. Well, I am seeing him. And everything’s fine.”
“Woah! Did I slap a sore spot or what?”
Mel glared at me, looking like a crazed woman. I was worried she was going to pounce at any moment. Then, just as quickly as her anger blew up, she seemed to run out of steam. For once, she didn’t bustle about, trying to avoid me. She just stood there, both hands flat on the counter, staring down. “I’ve been late for class, ditching friends, and my grade in psych class is slipping,” she whispered.
“Well, considering how well-endowed he is—”
“It’s not funny,” Mel snapped. “You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to maintain my GPA. I could get kicked out of honors. And for what! A little dick?”
Ten inches was far from little, but I wasn’t going to correct her. She was a mess. “I’m not making light of it,” I assured her. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”
“I don’t know how it happened. One minute I was on top of the world, I knew exactly where I was going and what I had to do to get there and then….”
“And then you fell in love,” I finished for her.
Melanie snapped her head up and gawked at me. “Ben, I am not! I can’t be in love. I just…. Dammit, what am I going to do?”
I patted Mel’s back. “It’s okay, Mel. We don’t get to choose when our hearts take a leap. Is it really so bad to fall in love with someone?” A thought occurred to me. “Unless, he doesn’t feel the same way. Is that why you’re so sad?”
Mel shook her head. “I’m pretty sure he feels the same way even though I specifically told him our relationship couldn’t be any more than physical. He just had to go and turn out to be smart and sexy and caring and just so, so… ugh, so fucking wonderful.”
Mel sounded so miserable, poor thing. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. “So you just have to readjust your plan a little. I know you can do it. When you set your mind to something, you accomplish it.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” I grasped Mel’s shoulders and held her an arm’s length away until she met my gaze. “You can do this. The nice thing is, you’ll have someone to stand with you, to support you while you’re chasing your dream. A dream, from what you’ve told me, is Toby’s too. So get there together. If you ask me, I’d say it’s a lot easier to reach that goal with someone racing with you towards it.”
Mel gave me a slight smile. “How did you get so smart?”
I kissed her forehead. “I’m not. You’re the smart one. I just needed to remind you of that.”
Mel threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I patted her back. “Now get back to work before being in love is the least of your worries and paying your light bill will be.”
AFTER THE conversation with Mel, I’d been thinking a lot about her situation. I remembered that first love, the excitement, the wonder. Everything but that person—in my case Hugh—consumed every thought. I wished I still felt that way. The naive belief that love could conquer everything and anything. Life had a way of jading someone after a while. It certainly had me. I hoped the best for her. Hell, she and Toby had something me and Hugh never had—a shared dream. The thought was sobering.
I was looking forward to rehearsing my lines with Jason. I needed something to take my mind off my own life. Diving into Edgar’s was what I need. Only, Jason had other ideas.
“Marry me,” he said.
I lowered the script and looked at Jason in confusion. “What? There are no marriage proposals in this play.”
Jason tossed his own script aside and came to clasp my hands in his. “I know. This is me proposing to you. Marry me, Ben.”
All I could do was stare at him in complete shock for several ticks of the clock. “You’re not serious.”
“Totally. Marry me, Ben.”
I couldn’t believe I’d heard him correctly. Jesus Christ, it had only been a few days since I told him I wanted a friend and acting partner, nothing more at the moment. Apparently, Jason hadn’t heard a damn word I said. What was it about the men in my life that refused to listen to me? I tightened my hands around the script, anger flaring up in me. Fuck! I just wanted to rehearse our parts for the play, to immerse myself in the role of Edgar. Dammit, I didn’t want to think about anything dealing with reality, and I certainly didn’t want to ponder marriage.
Jason, however, was not going to let the matter rest. He sat down on the old-fashioned trunk across from me, looking very expectant.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
&
nbsp; “Perhaps. But give me three good reasons why you shouldn’t marry me. No, make that five. Five good reasons.”
“Why stop with five?” I asked, not even trying to hide my irritation.
If Jason noticed the daggers I was shooting out of my eyes at him, he didn’t seem phased by them. “I do believe you just threw out a challenge. I accept.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You said why stop at five, I challenge you to come up with five. I bet you can’t do it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Here’s a suggestion. Let’s just forget you asked and we’ll get back to reading lines.”
“Ben, I never pegged you for someone who walked away from a good honest challenge.”
“Jason—”
“C’mon, humor me. Give me five reasons. That’s all I’m asking. Just five reasons why we shouldn’t get married.”
He was impossible. I was either going to have to play Jason’s little game before we could get any work done or I could take my script and go home.
I stared at Jason, who was looking at me with that damn confident smile, challenging me. Ugh! “Reason number one, we haven’t known each other long enough.”
“How long does it take?” Jason asked immediately. “I realized how I felt about you practically the first minute I met you. And you already know everything important there is to know about me.”
I did know the most important thing about Jason. He wasn’t afraid to share all his thoughts and feelings with me.
I held up a second finger. “Reason number two, I’m too old for you.”
“Those nine years again? I thought we’d left that behind us?”
I ignored Jason’s question and held up a third finger. “Reason number three, I have enough going on in my life right now without having to worry about a wedding.”
“Marriage would actually simplify things between us. You could move in here with me.”
“No,” I said firmly. “It most certainly would not simplify things. Besides, your place is too small.” I’d been down that road before. I would never start any future relationship on such uneven footings. It would be either in a home we purchased together or it wouldn’t happen. End of story.