by Riley Hart
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” she asked.
“How can you ask me that? I never hurt anyone. I never hurt him. Hell, he never even said he was sorry.”
“Maybe he did. Would you accept it if so?”
The truth was, Van couldn’t say for sure. Likely, the answer was no.
“Seems we’re all looking for a little acceptance here. The thing is, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She reached into her purse then, and pulled out an envelope that said Max in his father’s messy scrawl.
Blood rushed through Van’s ears. “How?” His father had died of a heart attack. How could he have written this?
“He wrote it a year and a half before he died.”
“Why didn’t he send it then?”
“Fear.”
Van scoffed at that. “He wasn’t afraid of anything. He sure as shit wasn’t afraid of how I would react or feel about something.”
She sighed. “I really loved him, ya know?”
An ache started in the center of his chest and spread out from there, until it nearly choked him. “Yeah, I know.” He just wished she’d loved him as much.
They called Thomas back in and his mom said they had decisions to make and would get in touch with him again. Van had already decided and he wasn’t changing his mind.
When they got back to the house, he asked, “Do you want to get started? We can get some packing done. I’ll help you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not today, Max.”
He could hear it in her voice, her disappointment in him. But he was disappointed in her too.
She left not long after. He didn’t know where, so Van left too, camera in hand, trying to forget about the letter he had never expected to get.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Oh fuck.” Shane’s hand slipped, as he tried to loosen a nut on the alternator and his knuckle scraped the belt pulley.
Ryan looked over at him. “This is probably the tenth time I’ve heard you say ‘oh fuck’ today. You sure are screwing a lot of shit up,” he teased Shane. “What you thinking about so hard?”
“Your daddy,” Shane teased back, making Ryan bark out a laugh.
“You can do better.”
The truth was, Shane had been distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about last night with Van—the head and the photographs. The way Van had described taking his picture. The way he’d left Last Chance to follow his dreams, that he’d done something so far from Shane’s reality he almost couldn’t comprehend it.
But he wanted to. Christ, he fucking wanted to.
“You okay, man?” Ryan said and Shane realized the other man had said something else to him he’d missed.
Yep, just fine. Thinking about my childhood nemesis taking pictures of me naked, is all. And that’s what it was, he realized. He almost…wanted that. Wanted to feel as though he could step outside of his body. Be someone totally different than the Shane Wallace who lived in Last Chance his whole life, and had never done anything…exciting. How he wanted something outside of his life of taking care of his mom, working in the shop, playing around in his studio, and drinking beer at Round Table.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just have a lot on my mind,” he finally answered Ryan.
“Everything okay with your mom?”
The words were like needles in his skin. “Yeah, fuck. I can have shit going on in my life that has nothing to do with my mother, ya know?”
Ryan frowned. “Sorry…I didn’t mean—”
“No, I’m sorry.” Shane shook his head. “I’m obviously having a bad day and I shouldn’t take it out on you.” He also shouldn’t be having a bad day. He’d come down a gorgeous man’s throat the night before. He should still be experiencing a post-orgasmic high.
“I’m around if you need anything. We can go out and get a beer tonight if you want.”
His immediate response had been to open his mouth and say yes. He got to the opening of his mouth part right but then remembered he had plans with Van. “I can’t. I appreciate you asking though.”
“No problem.”
Someone came into the shop and Ryan went to take care of them while Shane continued his work.
What had he looked like, sitting on that chair last night, cock spent, come all over him and lips red from Van’s kiss? He wanted to know. Wanted to see himself through Van’s lens like the photographs of all the other men he couldn’t get out of his head.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Shane muttered to himself. He sure as shit wasn’t a nude model. He wouldn’t know the first thing about it. Plus, he wasn’t positive he wanted that many people seeing him naked.
Shane had managed to finish out his work day with minimal fuckups and not too much thought of Van on his knees, and wondering what he’d looked like to the other man.
He made a trip to the store, grabbed some steaks, baking potatoes, salad, and beer, because grilling wasn’t complete without beer.
When he got back to his truck, he sent Van a text telling him he was heading home and the other man could come anytime.
The reply came back almost instantly. Perfect. Coming now.
Shane smiled. Without me?
Hopefully not. ;)
He cocked his head as he looked at the text. He hadn’t been sure if last night would be a repeat performance but he had to admit, he wouldn’t mind if it was. When did he get to fuck around with someone for a couple weeks straight? He might as well enjoy it while he could. If you’re lucky, he texted back before tossing his cell to the seat beside him.
Shane made the quick drive home, parked his truck, but left everything inside as he made the trip to his mom’s. “Honey, I’m home!” he teased.
“Hey, you,” she called from the living room. “They have a Harry Potter marathon on TV. Wanna watch with me?”
A stab of guilt pierced his gut. He hated the fact that she sat there alone most of the time. That he would be off next door with Van and she likely wouldn’t even be able to come out. But there was another part of him that didn’t want her to know about Van. He didn’t have much of anything in this town that was just for himself. Just his, and Van felt like that, however fucked up it was.
“I’m going to barbecue and have a friend over,” he told her. “Do you think you might feel like coming out? It’ll do you some good.”
Immediately she shook her head. “No…I…don’t think I can handle that today. You have fun with Ryan.”
The knife in his stomach dug deeper. It was right next door. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t worry about me, Shane. I’m fine. You know I love Hermione. I’m going to enjoy my show. Plus, my knitting club is coming over tomorrow. That’ll get me the social aspect I know you’re stressing about. Sometimes it’s like you’re the parent instead of me.”
All the time, was his first thought and he was immediately frustrated with himself over it. None of it was her fault. “I forgot about that. Let me know what you need for snacks and stuff and I’ll make sure I pick up some things at the store.”
She smiled up at him. “You take such good care of your mama.”
He didn’t feel like it though. He didn’t feel like he took good care of her at all.
By the time he made it outside, Van was already heading down the driveway. A wave of nervousness rushed through him.
“Hey,” Van said to him as he stepped out of the car.
“Hey, yourself,” he replied, and then, “Holy shit. I’m pretty sure I just sounded double my age.”
That earned him a chuckle from Van. He winked. “If that’s the case, you look damn good for your age.”
“You grew up to be a flirt.” Which, Shane had to admit, he liked. It wasn’t often he got flirted with. Gay man in a small town hazard.
“I grew up to be a lot of things you wouldn’t expect, but does flirt surprise you?”
“Flirting with me does.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to do it a lot so you ge
t used to it.”
Shane shook his head. “God, this is weird.”
“The thing is…it doesn’t feel weird to me.”
Shane sighed because he thought maybe Van was right. They took a sharp nose dive into the friendship…temporary friends with benefits…whatever the fuck it was, but it felt a whole lot more natural than he thought it would. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He turned toward his truck. “Come on. Let’s get this show on the road. I’m fucking starved.”
“Yeah…yeah, I’m hungry too.”
*
They spent the evening on the back deck again.
It was a whole hell of a lot easier to breathe out there—the fresh and clean air. He couldn’t say if it was being around Shane in his element or just being out of his mom’s house.
The day still weighed heavily on him, but he tried to keep that shit at bay, not wanting it to ruin his night.
Shane threw potatoes in the oven to bake and they grilled the steak. Van helped him put a salad together and then they sat at the table outside and enjoyed their meal together.
“Sometimes, I hate that my past here has ruined this place for me. I went and took some photos today, and sitting out here, I realize there really are so many things I love about it,” Van told him. He watched as Shane pushed a piece of lettuce around on his plate.
“Yeah, I can understand that. It’s tough even for me sometimes. There are moments where I want nothing more than to get into my truck, drive away and never come back.”
Van frowned, those words surprising him.
“But then there are times where I look around at all the beauty, walk down the streets I know so well, and don’t know if I could live anywhere else. Even if it wasn’t for my mom.”
There was a pang in Van’s chest. Jesus, he couldn’t imagine what it was like, to feel that sense of obligation to another person. To love someone that much. He’d never felt that way about anyone and he sure as shit knew no one had ever felt that way about him. “I’m sorry,” Van told him.
Shane shrugged. “It is what it is, ya know? She loves the hell out of me and I love her. She’s sick and that’s what you do when you love someone, you take care of them.”
No one had ever loved Van enough to do that for him, not even his own mother.
He had a lot of respect for the man sitting across from him right now.
“You’re looking at me funny. Stop looking at me like that,” Shane said on a grin.
“I can’t help it.”
“If you can’t help it, who can?”
“You.” Van smiled back at him.
“How can I change how you look at me?”
“Stop being so damned charming.”
Shane rolled his eyes, but Van swore he saw a light blush rise to Shane’s cheeks.
“That line work on all the LA boys?” Shane asked.
“No, I usually just ask them ‘your place or mine?’”
They both laughed and goddamn, he enjoyed Shane’s company. “The pictures I took today…they were for your mom. I need to print them off for her.”
Shane gave Van a frown he didn’t expect. “That okay?” Van asked.
“That’s more than okay. It’s…thank you. For thinking about her. For being kind to her. You don’t know how much that means to me.” The sincerity in Shane’s voice worked its way under Van’s skin.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s everything.”
Damned if that didn’t make Van feel good. Special. After years of making Shane feel like shit, he liked making Shane happy.
“How was your day with your mom?” Shane asked.
“Not good. He left me money…the business. I don’t want either of them.” He looked at Shane’s kind eyes. “She gave me a letter from him.”
“Did you open it?”
“Took everything in me not to burn it.”
“Understood,” Shane replied.
“Will you show me your shed?” Van asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Is that some kind of LA slang for my asshole? If so, you’re gonna at least have to kiss me first.”
“I didn’t kiss you before I got to see your dick,” Van teased back. It was funny how well they got along. How comfortable they felt together. Or at least Van felt that way with Shane.
“Most people don’t win the lottery twice.” Shane winked and they both laughed again. He took a drink of his beer and Van let him have the moment, not wanting to push Shane but really wanting to see that part of him.
“Yeah…yeah, I’ll show you my shed. Don’t think I do this with just anyone. But I guess since you blew me and you asked, I have no choice.” His words came out playfully but the thing was, Van knew they were true. Shane didn’t do that with just anyone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He waited behind Shane as he pulled keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Most of the time I don’t lock my house or my truck, but this? Always. Funny, huh?”
It surprised Van the way Shane spoke to him. Maybe the way he spoke to Shane too. He wouldn’t have thought they’d connect like they had. Part of the time he wasn’t sure why they did and the rest of the time, he thought it made the most sense in the world.
Shane hit the switch to turn on the light when they walked inside. It wasn’t a big room—and it wasn’t a shed either. He shouldn’t have called it that.
There were saws on one side of the room, wood—a few small, random pieces—but it didn’t look as though that was where Shane focused most of his energy.
“Holy shit,” he whispered out as he walked across the room. There was shelf after shelf of glass pieces—all in different colors and shapes and sizes.
“You blow glass?” Van asked, his voice slightly rough with surprise.
He looked back and saw Shane shove his hands into his pockets. “You’re not the only person here who’s good at blowing things.”
“I think you might be better than me. Jesus, Shane. These are incredible. Can I?” he asked and Shane nodded. Van picked up one of the pieces. It was a swirl of blues, greens, and red—all twisting parts, circles attached to each other.
It was amazing. Van loved seeing a piece of art that someone else brought to life. “I had no idea you were into this kind of thing.”
“Most people don’t,” he replied, making Van wonder how many people, if any, did know. And how they’d gotten to the place where he was among them.
“Well, they should. Do you sell these or anything?” He set Shane’s artwork back on the shelf.
“Nah. I just do it for fun. I can’t imagine someone wanting to buy it.”
Van frowned. “Are you shitting me? Don’t go all humble on me. You’re fucking good and people would buy these, Shane. I guarantee it. It’s one thing if you only do your art for yourself and something entirely different if you keep it to yourself because you don’t think anyone else would want to see it.” People would fall in love with Shane’s work. He already had.
Van’s fingers itched to hold a paintbrush between them. He wanted to view the world through the lens on his camera. Seeing what Shane did made Van want to create.
“I do it just for me,” Shane finally replied. Van had a feeling he was lying but he didn’t call the other man on it.
“I think that’s a tragedy.”
Shane rolled his eyes, clearly not agreeing with him.
“I’m serious. I’m a little jealous of you.”
“Says the man who takes the most beautiful photographs I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s just because there’s cock and ass in them,” Van teased.
“Whatever you say.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms. “You can have one if you want. They’re just sitting out here.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, hoping Shane was.
“Yep.”
Van ran his fingers over a few pieces but picked up the one he’d already held. “I miss it,” he found himself saying.
“Miss
what?”
“I can’t paint here…at least not at my mom’s. I tried but it’s almost like…I don’t fucking know. Like I’m dirtying something I love just by doing it in that house. I can’t paint there. I won’t. Not with all of the other shit that happened inside those walls.”
“You can paint here if you want,” Shane told him, his voice slightly lower. “Or I don’t know, you might not be here long enough to deal with it.”
The thing was, he almost didn’t see a reason to stay. He couldn’t help his mom if she refused it. They obviously weren’t getting closer or couldn’t see eye to eye on things. Still, as he looked at Shane, looked at those soulful brown eyes of his, Van realized he wasn’t ready to go. That he wanted to spend a little more time getting to know Shane, and hoping things could change with himself and his mom in the process.
“She refuses me at every turn. I don’t know why I try.”
“Because it would eat you alive not to,” Shane said with bare-boned truth in his words. Yes, it would bother Van not to try. He wasn’t happy that it would, but it was true. Shane wasn’t talking about Van though, he was talking about himself. It would eat him alive not to be there for his mom. Van thought Shane was probably happy here, but even if he wasn’t, he would stay because it would kill him not to.
“I think you’re giving me too much credit.” He wasn’t the same man that Shane was. He’d left and never looked back. He didn’t regret that fact, but it put Shane on a whole different playing field from himself.
“I don’t think I am. You came.”
Yeah, yeah he had…and he was thankful for it.
“Yes,” Van replied.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’ll paint here. Thanks for offering.” It meant a lot to Van. Being there in the first place meant a lot to him, too.
They stood there a moment before Shane spoke again. “This is getting weird. We’re standing here staring at each other. I think that’s enough show-and-tell for tonight.”
Shane turned and walked out, Van filed in behind him. “Now that show-and-tell is over, what are we going to do next? Truth or dare?” he joked.
“Strip poker?” Shane replied after locking the door.