by Lane Hayes
“Cheers, Nate. Thank you for saving the day. I told you Michael didn’t know what he was doing.” Alex raised his margarita glass in a toast.
Michael gave his friend a withering glare before raising his glass in my direction. “I admit I suck in the kitchen. But this guy… actually both of these guys, are equally awful, so thank you.”
I chuckled at the exaggerated praise but gamely raised my glass. “You’re welcome, but it was no big deal.”
“Trust me, Nate. If you hadn’t come by, the chicken would have been underdone or blackened, and because these two are stubborn, they would have insisted on eating it anyway. And Michael’s right. We eat out. A lot.” Luke giggled and took a sip of his drink, setting it back on the dining table with a loud clang.
Michael looked over at his boyfriend with comically wide eyes. “Slow down, hot shot. Am I gonna have to carry you upstairs?”
Luke hiccupped and covered his mouth as he shook his head. “I’m not drunk. But you can carry me if you want to,” he purred, leaning heavily on his elbow to stare adoringly at his man.
“Oh boy. Here they go,” Alex grumbled good-naturedly.
Michael kissed Luke’s forehead and brushed his hair aside while discreetly flipping Alex the bird. I watched their interplay with interest. The friend slash former lover and current lover dynamic fascinated me. I supposed I had something like that with my ex-wife, but I knew work was the real reason we remained friendly. I doubt she would have wanted anything to do with me otherwise. These guys didn’t seem to have any issue whatsoever. Alex looked completely unfazed by their show of affection. If anything, his playful griping sounded more like encouragement.
“When did you learn to cook?” Alex asked before chomping a bite of his taco.
“Honestly, I’m not that great a cook. Anyone can make chicken and cut lettuce, onions, and tomatoes.”
“Obviously that’s not true,” Luke pointed out.
“Ha. Well, I’m good with basics, like taco preparation,” I claimed with a wry grin, “and I make a mean spaghetti. Simple things, you know? Nothing that will get me noticed for a spot on the Food Network, but enough to get by. What was the occasion tonight? I mean, if you never cook….”
“Michael’s sister marinated the chicken with the Martinez secret family adobo recipe. Good stuff.”
“It’s great. But why not let her cook it for you? She must know you’re all hopeless in the kitchen.” I took a bite of chicken. It was delicious. Not too salty the way adobo sometimes was.
A strained silence settled for a moment. I had no idea what I’d said, but I must have inadvertently brought up a touchy subject. I searched the table, looking for a clue or for someone else to bridge the quiet before it became awkward.
“She knows. It was a gesture on her part. It sounds silly, but her giving me this stupid chicken meant a fuck of a lot more than any Christmas or birthday gift she’s ever given me in the past.” Michael picked up his glass and swirled it in a deceptively lazy manner.
A wave of tension radiated from him palpably, and his brow furrowed in a fierce expression I had no way to read. It was like watching a dark storm gathering but having no clue about its course or strength. I didn’t know Michael, but my initial impression was that he was fairly laid-back. Obviously I was wrong. Luke laid a hand on his elbow, and a noticeable transformation took place as he covered the smaller hand and weaved their fingers together. I caught Alex’s eye. He pursed his lips as though he wanted to say something but decided it wasn’t his place.
“His family didn’t take his coming out very well,” Luke offered, obviously anxious to explain the stilted moment.
“I get the impression they wish I’d just kept it to myself,” Michael added.
“Think they’ll come around?” I asked.
“I honestly don’t know. My siblings have been mostly supportive, but my sister, Nita… not so much. She was angry at me for, how did she put it, ‘dishonoring God and disgracing our family.’ I hope she’ll come around, but it’s not up to me. I’m not changing. I’m gay, and I always was. The only difference was I told them the truth.” Michael paused for a moment. “In my family the women speak through food. I know that sounds funny, but that’s why something as lame as her marinating chicken with the same fucking adobo I’ve eaten all my life means more to me than it probably should.” He chuckled ruefully and added, “It’s kind of fitting, if you think about it. She gives me uncooked chicken knowing I’m a menace beyond a microwave. It’s like she’s making me work for her approval. Talk about mixed messages.”
“You sure it wasn’t laced in arsenic?” Alex joked as he refilled his margarita glass.
“You’ll soon find out, Alejandro,” Michael singsonged, taking the pitcher from Alex to top off his own glass.
“Nah. She likes me too much.” Alex shot a smug, teasing look at Michael and leaned back in his chair.
“Not me,” Luke said with a grimace.
“What about your parents?” I asked before sipping my margarita.
“It’s been a couple years now. Time helps. My mom is quiet. She leads by example. In a way, she’s been my biggest champion, and I’m sure she’s the reason Nita made the fucking chicken. And as convoluted and even fucked up as it seems, it gives me hope. Who knows? Maybe one day my dad will talk to me again.” His tone was flippant, but there was no mistaking the hurt behind his words.
Alex nodded in a somber attitude before raising his fist to his mouth and lowering his voice to mimic a radio show host.
“Well, thank you, Michael Martinez, for bringing the party to a screeching halt with words of—”
Michael flew off his chair in a shot, wrapping his hands around Alex’s throat in a move so fast I didn’t see it coming. Alex jumped up and punched Michael hard in the arm in retaliation while Luke sat calmly with his elbows on the table rolling his eyes. He must have noticed my alarm because he smiled reassuringly as he scooted his chair back.
“They’re idiots. They can’t help themselves. They lose twenty years of maturity at any given time when they’re in the same room together for longer than thirty minutes.”
“Ha. Ha. He’s an asshole.”
“You love me. Admit it,” Alex taunted.
“Hell no. I love this guy.” Michael pulled Luke off his chair, then sat quickly and tugged him onto his lap, circling his arms around his waist protectively. Luke grinned broadly before bending to kiss his lover’s mouth.
“All right, boys, time for you to go home. I can’t take any more saccharine-infused tender moments. And I’m sure Nate’s equally grossed out.”
I turned to give him a small smile but found I couldn’t look away. Maybe it was the way he sat languidly in his chair with one arm propped casually over the back or the way his dark wavy hair curled around his ears. He exuded an almost careless sexuality with his roguish half grin and shrewd eyes. Or maybe it was his mouth. So damn sexy. I licked my lips and shook my head when words failed me. I felt his friend’s scrutiny and willed myself to think of something, anything to say. But nothing came.
“We can take a hint. I’m going to use your restroom first.” Luke jumped up from Michael’s knee and tousled Alex’s hair as he walked by.
Alex swatted at him playfully, then turned back to Michael and pointed at the platter of chicken on the island. “Take the chicken. I can’t eat all that.”
“Good idea. Help me so I don’t take one of your favorite plates.” Michael stood and grabbed a couple of glasses from the table before walking to the far side of the kitchen.
“What are you talking about? I don’t have a favorite plate, asshole. Take what you wa—”
“Por favor.”
Alex looked mildly annoyed but stood with a grin, raising the half-depleted margarita pitcher. “More?”
“No thanks. Mind if I check out your view?”
“It’s the same as yours, but go for it,” he said with a wink.
Alex’s condo was larger than mine, and it was
appointed with many of the same features. Natural wood flooring, contemporary lighting, granite and high-end kitchen appliances. The sleek wood dining table was situated a few feet away from the island with a modern chandelier overhead, which helped to delineate the space from the living area just beyond. Regardless of how luxe the condo was, it was still a relatively small space. Conversation traveled easily. I intended to step out on the balcony and give them privacy, but I stopped short when I spotted the gorgeous black baby grand piano in the far corner of the great room. I brushed my fingers along the keys and admired the lovely curves of the well-cared-for instrument. I wondered what the story was. No one had a piano this size in their home unless they played often and well.
My ears perked up at the heated conversation in the adjacent room. Obviously Michael had no idea I understood Spanish. His voice had risen to a normal conversation level. I couldn’t help overhearing his stern warning to Alex to not fuck with me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I had to wonder what set him off. I made a production of studying the contours of the beautiful piano as I eavesdropped shamelessly.
“I’m a big boy, Miguel, and so is he. Not your business.”
“Fine, I agree. But he’s Bran and Jake’s friend too. Don’t play games with a straight man….” He turned so I only caught the last part of his sentence. “… not every guy is Armand.”
I looked up when Luke came back and skirted the piano to join them all in the kitchen. After a quick round of good-byes, I was alone with Alex. We stared at each other for a moment. The soft strain of a saxophone was playing in the background. It was a sexy, soulful sound that resonated through my body and soothed my nerves. No doubt the tequila swayed my movement, but I suddenly didn’t give a fuck about anything but the extraordinarily beautiful man in front of me.
“Your piano is beautiful,” I commented lamely, unsure of how to break the silence.
“Thank you. It was my mom’s.” Alex grinned and took a step closer.
My hand trembled slightly as I reached out to touch a wayward curl above his ear. His hair was softer than I imagined. He reminded me of a dark angel. So lovely and yet potentially so very naughty. I gulped at the thought as I lightly traced the shell of his ear carefully, watching him for clues. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I went with instinct and let my hand dip to cradle his neck before gently pulling him toward me and sealing my mouth over his.
The kiss was deceptively sweet. Soft lips and a feathery light caress. I tentatively ran my fingers through his thick hair as I licked at the corner of his mouth wondering if he’d let me in. He went still. His eyes were closed, but his breathing became heavy as I licked at the other side and then nipped his full bottom lip. I pulled back for a second before running my tongue over the flesh I’d bitten. The effect was like turning on a switch. Alex growled as he plunged his tongue inside my mouth. He circled his arms around my neck and dragged me down to deepen the connection.
It wasn’t a kiss anymore. It was a sexually charged exploration using tongues, teeth, and sure fingers to get closer. Alex’s tongue dueled with mine almost aggressively as though he were desperate to dominate and control. I don’t know why I gave in to his overtures but I did. I let him take over and reset the pace and rhythm. He smiled into my mouth, letting me know he approved as his hands dipped to my ass. Suddenly his ardent hold turned sensual. He swayed his pelvis to meet mine as his fingers massaged my ass, and his tongue traced an erotic path along my jaw and down my throat. I swallowed and squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to give in to the unknown. To let someone else drive for a while and see where we ended up.
“Open your eyes, Nate.”
Alex cocked his head and stepped back. His expression was guarded again but kind. I thought of the warning I’d overheard Michael issue to his friend not to fuck with me. My dick was throbbing, my heart was racing, and fuck, I wanted him. I knew he felt the same. Why was he pulling away now?
“I’ll see you Saturday.”
I stared blankly. Saturday?
“Don’t tell me you forgot already.”
“I didn’t. I—” I licked my swollen bottom lip.
“Look, I know you overheard Michael, and as much as I want to ignore him, he’s right. I’m very attracted to you, but I’m no good for you. You don’t need any crazy, and neither of us wants to deal with the complication of having mutual friends who’ll think I corrupted you if things go wrong. But I don’t see a problem with going to a bar or two on Saturday. You game?”
What was I doing? This wasn’t me. I had to put a stop to this before it got out of hand. I shouldn’t have kissed him again. He was too damn hypnotizing. I wasn’t ready for the bar scene nor would I probably ever be. My hand trembled slightly as I pulled the door open and turned around, preparing a “thanks, but no thanks” speech in my head.
What came out of my mouth wasn’t quite what I’d planned. “Great. See you Saturday.”
MY CELL rang early, jolting me from a deep sleep. I checked the caller ID and scrambled to sit up.
“’Lo?”
“Hey. Are you awake?”
“Hmm. I am now. Why are you calling so early? It’s Saturday, Jake.” I shut my eyes and listened to the background noises coming through the phone connection. A dog barking, music playing. It sounded very… homey.
“I know what day it is. You didn’t answer my texts, so I figured I’d call to let you know I’m on my way.”
“Where?”
“To your place.”
“Huh?”
“Seriously? We talked about this two days ago. I don’t have to work today. I’m dropping Bran off at his store, and Mack and I are coming over to hang at the beach with you. You may be older than me, but you’re not that old. Did you really forget?”
I rubbed sleep from my eyes and set my glasses on my nose before I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. “No. Um, I’ll be ready.”
“You okay? You sound weird.” Jake lowered his voice suspiciously.
“I’m fine. I just worked late last night.”
“You worked late on a Friday? Why am I pretending to be surprised?” He chuckled at something Brandon said in the background. “Bran wants to know the real story. Am I interrupting a morning booty call?”
“Yeah, no.”
“Didn’t think so. Mack and I will meet you in your lobby in an hour. See ya.”
I hung up and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My bedhead was tragic. Pieces of wayward hair stuck out in every direction. Add the glasses and yeah, I looked like a geek. A very tired one who’d pulled an all-nighter. Staying up till 2:00 a.m. to finish a proposal wasn’t my brightest move. But it was all I could think to do to keep my mind off going to gay bars with a guy I was ridiculously attracted to. I almost texted Alex several times to cancel, but something stopped me. Why lie to myself? I wanted to see him again. Be near him. Kiss him. I sighed heavily and picked up my toothbrush. I didn’t know if hanging out with my friend and his geriatric dog would be an effective diversion but if I didn’t stay busy, I’d be a basket case well before 10:00 p.m.
WALKING ANYWHERE with a fourteen-year-old Lab was slow going. Mack was partially blind, hard of hearing, and diabetic, but he was the sweetest dog I’d ever met. He adored Jake and Bran, but he had a good memory for other humans he liked, and he was always ready with an enthusiastic greeting. I laughed when he shifted from one paw to the other and nuzzled against my leg.
“Hi there, Mack. Miss me?” I scratched his ears and stroked his head till he purred in appreciation.
“Nah, he’s over you. Let’s go down to the beach before it gets too crowded.” Jake pulled at Mack’s leash and pushed at the glass doors of my building’s lobby.
The beach was probably already teeming with sunbathers and body surfers. It was the last weekend in August, and the weather was picture-postcard beautiful. Blue skies and eighty degrees. We crossed Ocean Boulevard and strolled along the boardwalk chatting companionably about work, Mack’s healt
h, and Bran’s plans to remodel their West Hollywood bungalow.
“It’s a small house, and it gets a little too cozy sometimes, but living there through a remodel sounds awful.” Jake shuddered for effect and shook his head.
“The things you do for love.”
“Well we won’t do anything immediately. Mack can’t see two feet in front of him. He walks into furniture he knows is there sometimes. Any big changes now would be cruel.”
“You’re a downer,” I deadpanned.
Jake chuckled. “I’m a realist. I have to be. Bran wants to believe Mack will live another five years, and someone has to keep perspective.”
“Feels weird that it’s you, eh?”
“I’ve gotten very good at it. Probably thanks to you, asshole.” Jake jabbed me with his elbow, pulling Mack’s leash when he started to walk in front of a skateboarder.
When I met Jake ten years ago, he was a punkass drug dealer with a death wish. He was squatting in the garage of a rental property I owned in Oxnard when an electrical fire nearly burned him alive. Ryan had been part of the first response team. He called me after the fire was put out to survey the damage. I arrived just as the paramedics were lifting the twenty-one-year-old kid onto a gurney with an oxygen mask tied to his face. I remember Ryan’s expression. It was full of sorrow I couldn’t begin to understand. Especially when the little shit had been living rent-free in my property.
“He’s homeless, moron. He’s trying to survive. The word on the street is his family tossed him out when they found out he was gay. He’s got nothing and no one on his side. The worst thing in life isn’t crashing rent-free in a crappy garage. It’s losing hope and convincing yourself you don’t deserve better.”
I’d been surprised by Ryan’s show of compassion, though I realized he’d faced his own struggles with addiction and wasn’t one to judge. Me? I clung to one thing only. His family kicked him out because he was gay. It was cold that evening, but the chill bracing my body went beyond the bite of a cool January wind. He could have been me, was all I could think. Ryan was right. And maybe in the way families don’t talk about things they know are going down, Ryan saw himself and me in Jake. We’d survived. We should help someone else if we could.