by Hayes, Lane
I should have called Elliot first. I could have mentally prepared myself for this. Of course, “this” might not be anything. I paused under an iron lantern and swallowed hard, willfully pushing my anxiety aside. And why did I feel so much better when Levi brushed my shoulder and stared up at the light? That was probably a bad sign. Maybe. I didn’t know. In fact, I didn’t know anything anymore. I had to talk, though. And ideally sound normal. I licked my lips nervously and inclined my head.
“Do you like that one?” I asked, pleased that my voice sounded even.
“No. Do you?”
“No,” I admitted before moving to the next series of lanterns. “How about this?”
“It’s not big enough.” Levi stuck his hands into his back pockets as he turned to study me. “You okay?”
“Yes. I—”
“Hello! Can I help you find something today?”
A young woman with long blonde hair and a sunny smile approached. Her blue sweater matched her eyes and accentuated her pink lips. She had a subtle edginess to her girl next door vibe that I liked. Elliot tended to hire a certain type, I mused. Good girls gone bad, bad boys gone worse and—why was I torturing myself? I had to get this over with.
“Yes, but…is Elliot in today?”
Her smile widened. “He’s on a call, but I can let him know you’re here. I’m Sienna. What’s your name, sir?”
“Geordie. Thank you. And yes, you can help. Point us toward your Spanish-style collection. We’re looking for something grand in an entry. We’re considering commissioning an original piece, but I want to give my friend a few ideas.”
“Absolutely. Come this way.”
She left us under a giant circular chandelier with a promise to return. I glanced up and nodded.
“This is better. Do you like it?” I asked.
Levi shrugged. “Sure. I think so.”
“That’s awfully wishy-washy of you. Though I understand your hesitation. It’s not enough. I have a great idea, and I know Elliot can help. I just have to get this over with.” I mumbled the last part under my breath and figured there was a decent chance he hadn’t heard me.
No such luck.
Levi moved his hand under my jacket and splayed his fingers on my lower back. My black, blousy top was far too sheer. His warmth melted me in the best possible ways. It didn’t occur to me to push him away. I needed him close to me.
“I thought he was your friend.”
“He is. I’m just…working through a moment. I’ll explain later.”
Levi rubbed my back and stepped into my space. He brushed his nose along my cheek and then kissed my earlobe. “How long is this gonna take?”
“I don’t know.”
“Make it quick. I don’t want to shop,” he whispered.
“That’s why we’re here.” I leaned against him and breathed in his scent. He smelled so damn good. “What do you want to do instead?”
“Walk around the more scenic parts of the town, get lunch, get a hotel room…”
I closed my eyes for half a second and let the heat and timbre of his voice move through me. My earlier anxiety faded. I couldn’t remember why I’d felt edgy. Everything was fine, and I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Geordie, is that really you?”
I spun away from Levi and smiled at the balding, thin man moving toward me with his arms outstretched. He enveloped me in a Tom Ford cologne-induced haze and held on tight. I wiggled free and stepped backward to give a quick round of introductions.
“You look fabulous, Elliot.”
“Me? Ha! I’m the same as always. It’s been a long time, Geord. I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought about you. I—how are you?”
“Very well.” I hooked my arm in Levi’s unthinking when my smile slipped. “Elliot and I prowled the Castro together back in the day. There were maybe eight of us…twinks and queens and we were marvelously mismatched, weren’t we?”
Elliot chuckled softly and nodded in agreement. “We were.”
Jesus, time is a wicked vampire, I thought as he regaled me with a breakdown of old friends he’d kept in touch with. Elliot wasn’t unattractive by any means, but he looked so…ordinary in his khaki pants and red cardigan. Or perhaps it was his thinning brown hair and ghostly pallor. It took a herculean effort to remember the sinewy twink who’d had a thing for leather daddies. We were around the same age, but I refused to believe the middle-aged truck had hit me yet. How had twenty or more years gone by so fast? I was only six years older than Levi, but Elliot’s minor history lesson of our shared past made me think I’d been far too kind to myself.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner, but when Levi said he needed a chandelier”—I pursed my lips to keep from laughing when Levi stepped aside to examine a nearby sconce and turned back to me and mouthed, I never said that—“I knew exactly where to go.”
“Excellent. Before we get started, can I ask how you are? We were worried about you after Mike passed. God, Geordie, that was…just awful. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know how much you loved him and—” To my absolute horror, he sobbed.
And I froze.
I didn’t know what to do. So when he drew me against him and cried like a child, I patted his back and wondered what the hell was wrong with me. I cast a panicky glance at Levi, thinking any second now he’d bolt and leave me with the fragment of my past that required consolation and possibly a cocktail.
“Elliot darling, it’s okay. I’m fine. Really,” I assured him as I slowly untangled myself from his hold.
“You look better than ever.” He brushed the moisture from his eyes then gave Levi an apologetic half smile. “Did you ever meet Mike?”
“Uh…no.”
“He was a good man. The kind you don’t see so much anymore. And man, did he love this guy. You were lucky, Geord. I’m still hoping there’s another one like him out there.” Elliot pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. “I’m sorry about that. Let’s talk chandeliers. Tell me what you have in mind.”
I took a deep breath and cast a wide-eyed, apologetic look at Levi. I couldn’t read his expression. He was neutral but not distant. I moved to his side and linked my pinky finger with his. Because at that very moment, it seemed suddenly important that I let him know that I was here…completely present. I didn’t have my eye on my watch. I wasn’t thinking about my past or my future. I was here.
Chapter 7
We finished placing our lighting order with Elliot around noon then headed to the Castro for lunch. We people-watched at a table for two with a pitcher of margaritas and nachos. Our conversation was light and breezy. We critiqued the menu, the font, and the disco music playing through the speakers. After a while, we went quiet. I scraped cheese off a nacho and studied him clandestinely. He’d traded his ubiquitous plaid for a plain blue oxford shirt today. There was something oddly sexy about the visible hair on his forearms where he’d rolled back his sleeves. I had to be losing it. Who noticed shit like that?
“Do you miss living in the city?” Levi asked, breaking the lingering silence.
“No. It’s a great place to be a young, gay person, though. For me it was freeing and life-affirming. People liked me here,” I said, lowering my tone in exaggerated amazement. “They encouraged my crazy, and I obliged as best I could. Everyone should have a chance to live fearlessly at least once in their lifetime. You should live here.”
“Me? I’m opening a restaurant an hour away in Napa. How would that be a good idea?”
“True. The commute would be a bother.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Levi nudged my foot under the table and leaned in. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Geord?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. What I am trying to say is that I won’t tie you down. You’re a dashing man in the prime of your life. Be free, my fair friend.”
“Free, fair, friend. Hmm. You’re upset. What’s going on in your head?”
I slumped in
my chair in defeat. “I don’t know. I’m conflicted right now. I knew there was a chance we’d run into Elliot. If I had more time, I would have suggested going on a day he wouldn’t be there. Isn’t that horrible?”
“Yes, actually it is. He’s your friend.”
“We ran in the same circles twenty years ago, but we weren’t close friends,” I insisted.
“He broke down, Geordie. He was overcome with grief, and he lost it. And you knew he would, and that’s why you’ve avoided him.”
I pushed my drink aside and buried my head in my hands. “I’d like to disappear, please. Being an adult is terribly tiresome.”
“Hey, look at me.”
“I don’t want to,” I grumbled.
“Geordie…”
“Fine.” I sat up abruptly and pulled my wallet from my bag. I peeled off a few twenty-dollar bills and threw them on top of what was left of the nachos. “You’re right. I avoid Elliot and dozens of others just like him because I can’t take it anymore.”
“Take what?”
“The sadness and grief and constant crying. Every time someone tells me how sorry they are and how sad they feel for me, I want to fucking scream. I don’t want pity, and I don’t want to be sad. I don’t want to be reminded of what I’ve lost, and I don’t want anyone to tell me how old I am. I know I’m fucking old!” I slammed my hand on the table hard enough to rattle the dishes and alert our neighboring tables that a show was about to begin. I stood and grabbed my jacket. “I want to pretend I’m okay. I’m a fabulous actor and I can do this for forty more years if I have to, but I’m so fucking tired of tears.”
“What are you doing?”
“I am making a dramatic exit. Don’t mind me. I know my way around. You stay and—eat chips. I’ll find my way home.” I pointed at the dregs of our snack then slung my bag over my shoulder and sashayed away.
Of course, Levi was right behind me. “Geordie!”
I picked up my pace and hurried for the exit. Levi grabbed my arm just as I stepped onto the sidewalk. I broke free and whirled around with gritted teeth and claws bared. I was ready for a fight. And I wasn’t above starting one with an innocent party. I balled my hands into fists and gestured wildly toward the giant rainbow flag on the corner as the beginnings of a speech about pride, beauty, and the merits of being a badass bitch formulated in my brain. But the words stuck in my throat. I shook my head manically and brushed the back of my hand over my nose.
“I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s going to be okay.” Tears clouded my vision, so I repeated the chant again. And then again.
And then he pulled me into his arms, and I fell apart.
I sobbed big ugly tears as I clung to him like a life raft in the middle of the ocean. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He held his ground on that patch of sidewalk, silently daring anyone to interrupt my sorrow as he rocked me gently and massaged the back of my neck.
After a few minutes, I regained a modicum of composure and stepped out of his arms. Levi searched his pockets and then pointed at my bag. “You must have a tissue in that thing.”
I nodded and pulled one out. He swiped it from my hand and then tenderly pressed the Kleenex under one eye and then the other. Then he leaned in and kissed me. It was a soft touch of lips, nothing demanding or possessive. I smiled at the sweetness and then blew my nose. Loudly.
“ ’Scuse me. I’m a mess.”
“You’re beautiful,” he countered.
Something in his tone stopped me. I bit my bottom lip and sniffed. “This is beautiful? Oh Levi, you can do so much better than this.”
He set his hand on my hip and pulled me out of the way of faster-moving pedestrians. “I don’t want better. I want you.”
I regarded him for a moment then leaned against the stucco façade and made a production of stuffing the tissue back into my bag. “Why?”
“You’re a fighter. I like that about you. Even when you think you’ve got nothing left to give, you don’t give up.” Levi flattened his back against the building then ran his finger down the row of buttons on my jacket. “Your eyeliner is smudged, your hair is a mess, and your collar is crooked. I know you want to laugh it off and joke about needing a spa day, but I can’t help thinking you look like a warrior. A queer gladiator. The fiercest of the fierce. You’ve been in battle for almost four years, baby. It’s no wonder you’re tired. Sit down a while and rest.”
My breath hitched. The sentiment was so lovely; I wanted to cry all over again. I let out an amused huff instead. “It’s far too dirty. I can’t sit here.”
“Then lean on me, Geord. Let me hold you.”
Tears sprang to my eyes again. I swallowed around them as I laid my head on his shoulder. I had no concept of time. We might have stood there for a minute or an hour. The city bustled and moved around us. I was irritated that I couldn’t shake the melancholy and enjoy my adopted home, but I needed this more. And I was grateful he somehow knew it.
I kissed his cheek and pulled back to look at him. “Thank you. Just so you know…I wasn’t crying over Mike just then.”
“I know. I think you’re ready to live again. But you’re frustrated, and you feel guilty, and you aren’t sure how to gracefully exit one scene so you can move to the next.”
I gaped at him in wonder and slowly nodded.
“Yes. That’s it exactly. You know, when he died, I wanted to die too. I would have happily welcomed the Grim Reaper. ‘The door is open, honey. Take me with you!’ ” I affected in a campy tone. “But I don’t feel that way anymore. I may be on this planet for a while still, and I don’t want to miss a thing. Look at this place. Look at that glorious rainbow flag across the street. Look at those beautiful queers holding hands, raising their voices, and fighting for equality. I don’t want to say, ‘I used to be like them.’ I’m too damn amazing to be a has-been, for fuck’s sake. And I don’t want to miss out on the best things about life. Like sex.”
Levi barked a quick laugh then pulled me against him and tilted his pelvis suggestively. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mmhmm. And I’m good at it,” I purred.
“I know.”
“Like Olympic medalist level good.”
“We can’t let all that talent go to waste.”
Levi grabbed my ass and licked the seam of my lips. I slid my tongue alongside his and hummed into the connection. We kissed in broad daylight, swaying like trees on a crowded city sidewalk. The slow buildup was heady. His hands moved up and down my back and in my hair. Some semblance of propriety kept me from grinding myself against his obvious hard-on. Sex in public wasn’t my kink.
I broke for air and bit his bottom lip. “We can’t do this here.”
He pulled back with a groan. “I can’t believe we’re an hour from home. My dick is so hard, I might pass out on the way back. Maybe we should get a hotel room.”
“That’s not necessary. We can go to my house.”
Levi frowned. “Okay, but that’s—”
“I have a place here. It’s far nicer than a hotel. Come with me.”
Twenty minutes later, Levi parked in front of my house in Russian Hill. The gorgeous three-storied Spanish revival was located on one of the steepest hills in the city with awe-inspiring views of the Bay. Every time I stood at the massive iron gate leading to the main entrance, I wanted to pinch myself. It didn’t seem real that this was mine. I felt that way about my cottage at the winery sometimes too, but this place was special. It was like a fairy-tale castle perched high above a magical kingdom. It was a quiet sanctuary in a vibrant rainbow-loving city. For a poor Mexican American kid from East LA, it was like a dream.
I hurried to the gate and punched in the code. The fog was rolling in, covering everything in a fine layer of mist. It was easily ten degrees cooler here than in the Castro, I mused as I fished my keys from my bag.
“Is this for real?” Levi asked, glancing up at the ornate door.
“Of course.” I twisted the key in the lock then pushed the door open wit
h a flourish. “Welcome.”
Levi’s jaw dropped when he stepped into the entry. He set his hands on his hips and turned in a slow circle to take in his surroundings. The formal living area with its breathtaking views of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz was visible from this vantage point. His sharp gaze seemed to take in the silk draperies framing the floor-to-ceiling windows, the museum-quality art, and the opulent but tasteful furnishings. It was rather marvelous if I did say so myself, but I couldn’t tell if he agreed.
I peeled off my jacket and set it on the bench near the sweeping staircase along with my bag. Then I moved to his side and laced my fingers with his. “I’ll give you a tour later. Come upstairs, darling.”
He paused on the bottom stair and opened his mouth in a comically wide “O.” “Holy shit. Look at that chandelier. This place is unreal.”
“Yes, it’s lovely but—hang on.” I hopped off the stair, plucked my bag off the bench and grinned at him.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Condoms, lube…a twelve-inch dildo.”
Levi laughed then licked his lips and hooked his fingers in my belt loop and tugged me closer. “You’re like a walking pharmacy.”
“It’s good to be prepared.” My breath hitched when he unbuckled my belt and then slowly unzipped my trousers. I may have whimpered when he stroked me through my briefs too.
“You never know when you’re going to need lube for that dildo,” he teased.
“I don’t have a dildo. I mean…I do. My collection is impressive actually, but—not in my bag.”
Levi slipped his fingers under the elastic of my briefs and closed his fist around my aching cock. “That’s too bad. I’d love to see you play with your toys.”