“If the situation were reversed, would you have crossed the line, even if he’d asked you not to?”
“I’m not sure.” Malcolm frowned. “I want to think I’d have respect for my partner’s wishes. I know I’d bend over backward to help in any way I could.”
“I figured as much. That attitude’s kind of what got us into the situation with Mom to begin with, though,” Jackson said with a smile. “So maybe we need to practice taking care of ourselves the way we do other people. That goes double for you.”
Jackson’s words bounced around Malcolm’s head long after his brother had headed home. As healthy as they sounded, Malcolm wasn’t sure either of them would have been able to follow them when it came to their mom’s situation. They’d always step up to help her, even if that meant making sacrifices here and there.
At least now they could hope those sacrifices would taper off with time. Yes, Kim’s problems were still out there, and yes, they had a mountain of work to do to fix them. Malcolm needed to work on himself, too. Knowing he wasn’t alone to do that work felt wonderful to Malcolm.
He had Stuart to thank for that. Stuart had cared more about Malcolm’s wellbeing than his own, and his own small sacrifice had changed Malcolm’s life for the better yet again.
Chapter Fourteen
Stuart had to take a deep breath before he knocked on Malcolm’s apartment door. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for an answer. Malcolm had invited him so Stuart knew he was welcome, yet a small part of him was terrified that Malcolm would slam the door shut in his face.
When the door swung open and Malcolm offered him a tentative smile, some of the tension in Stuart eased.
“Hi,” Malcolm said as he stepped back and made room for Stuart. It was too soon for him to have put any weight back on, but he looked far less tense and stressed than the last time Stuart had seen him.
“Hey.” Stuart walked into the apartment feeling a hell of a lot more hesitant than he had the last time he’d been there. He wanted to believe tonight would go well, yet apprehension lurked under his skin. He didn’t like this awkwardness with Malcolm at all and it was strange not to pull him in for a kiss.
“How was your day off?” Malcolm asked.
“It was good. I got caught up on laundry and some other chores I’d been neglecting.” Stuart stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to touch Malcolm.
They’d messaged sporadically throughout the week, the words tentative and halting. While Malcolm hadn’t seemed angry, he’d clearly wanted space. Stuart knew as much from their conversation earlier in the week and their message threads. So he’d been surprised when Malcolm had reached out last night and asked Stuart if he would come over after Malcolm finished work.
A wave of apprehension washed over Stuart. What if this was it? What if Malcolm had asked him to come over only so he could tell Stuart he didn’t want to see him anymore? His eyes stung.
“Come on in,” Malcolm offered and Stuart nodded, stooping down to unlace his boots and work them off. He left them in the entryway beside Malcolm’s shoes.
Following Malcolm into the kitchen, Stuart rubbed his chest through his thin gray T-shirt. He’d spent all week fearing the worst. Wondering if he’d fucked up so badly there was no coming back from it.
Only after he’d stepped into the kitchen did he notice the scent in the air.
“Is that roasted chicken?” Belatedly, he wondered if maybe it was a bad choice to bring up anything food-related when that was clearly a hot-button issue between them right now. Malcolm merely smiled.
“It is. The grocery deliveries have been very generous and I’m trying to work my way through a lot of food before anything spoils. Most of the meat’s gone in the freezer but I wanted to roast the chicken for you. I haven’t really been able to reciprocate much when it comes to cooking or eating out so—” Malcolm cleared his throat. “Not that what I’d make could compare to what you can cook.”
Stuart gently pressed a finger to Malcolm’s lips and Malcolm stilled under him. “It smells delicious. I’m looking forward to having it for dinner.”
Malcolm nodded, and reluctantly, Stuart dropped his hand. He wanted to keep touching Malcolm, but he didn’t want to push his luck.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“I’m going to throw some quartered potatoes in the oven and steam some asparagus. Everything is already prepped.” Malcolm’s gaze slid to the clock on the range. “It should go in shortly.”
Some of Stuart’s fear ebbed. Malcolm wouldn’t have made him dinner if he intended to break up with him. He hoped.
“You clearly have it all under control,” he said aloud. “If you’d like, I could whip up a dessert. Maybe a fruit crisp or a chocolate lava cake, depending on what ingredients you have?”
Malcolm’s smile was wry. “I’m sure I have ingredients for anything.”
Stuart’s smile probably looked more like a grimace. “Which would you prefer then?” If Malcolm could joke about it, that was probably a good sign. Right?
“The fruit crisp. There’s a ton of strawberries and I haven’t been able to eat them fast enough.”
“Perfect. Have any basil? Strawberry basil sounds nice.”
“I do, yeah.” Malcolm rummaged in the refrigerator. It was filled with food and more of Stuart’s tension eased. As much as he’d hated upsetting Malcolm—he really should have handled the food situation better—he was fucking relieved to know that Malcolm was eating now.
“How’s your week been?” he asked.
“All right.” Malcolm gave him a small, lopsided smile as he straightened. “I’ve had a lot to take in.”
“I know.” Stuart frowned. “I’m sorry for the way I handled things. I hope you know that. I’m relieved you have food, but I know I went about it the wrong way.”
Malcolm opened his mouth to respond when the beep of a timer interrupted their conversation. “Can we talk about this after dinner?” he asked as he turned it off.
“Of course. Point me toward your cutting boards and baking dishes and I’ll get this crisp prepped so it’s ready to go in when the chicken comes out.”
The familiar rhythm of coring and slicing strawberries and julienning basil leaves soothed Stuart. Once Malcolm slid the pan of potatoes into the oven, he offered Stuart a drink.
“I shouldn’t be surprised that my friends think booze is an essential part of a food delivery but…” Malcolm held up a bottle of white wine and shrugged.
Stuart laughed. “It fits.”
“Was that a yes?” Malcolm asked in a teasing tone.
“Please.”
After accepting a glass, Stuart began to assemble a crumble topping for the dessert. Malcolm leaned against the counter and watched him work.
“Tell me about your week,” Malcolm said.
“I’ve been busy.” Stuart worked butter into the mixture of oats, flour, brown sugar, cinnamon and salt. “The poissonier—fish cook—has been out all week. His wife went into labor early and she and the baby are still in the hospital. It looks like they’re going to be okay, but it’s been rough for all of them. With him out, I’ve been doing double duty, so I’m wiped.”
“That sounds tiring.”
“For sure.” Stuart had been grateful for the distraction, however. The less time he’d had to think about how he’d hurt Malcolm and could potentially lose him, the better.
“Does your coworker get parental leave?” Malcolm asked. “Kyle said the restaurant industry doesn’t always offer much in the way of benefits.”
“He only has parental leave because he works for Marisol and she runs her restaurant quite differently. In most restaurants, he could take unpaid leave if he had enough money to do it but that would be the only option.”
“That’s awful.”
“It is. That’s why I’m damn grateful to work for her.” Stuart sprinkled the crumble over the strawberry mixture. “She treats her employees like h
umans instead of a means to profit. Don’t get me wrong—I know as well as anyone that profit margins can be slim in the restaurant business. Still, I appreciate that Marisol is looking out for us. She and a few other restaurant owners here in the city are working hard to change the industry. It would be nice to see a better quality of life become standard in food service.”
“I can’t imagine that’ll happen overnight.”
“No, it won’t,” Stuart agreed. “It’ll be a slow process. If those restaurants have lower employee turnover rates and become sought after places to be hired, it could create some real waves. Who knows what Marisol and her friends’ efforts could turn into in ten, fifteen years?”
They were quickly absorbed again in dinner preparation. Malcolm’s chicken came out of the oven, the potatoes were turned and asparagus steamed. Stuart’s crisp went in as soon as the potatoes were finished.
They made small talk as they ate dinner, and when their plates were empty and their bellies full, Stuart gave Malcolm an appreciative smile.
“Thank you. That was delicious.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for, uh, making sure I had food to prepare.” Malcolm’s answering smile was awkward and Stuart’s mood immediately turned serious.
“I’m sorry I went about it so badly,” he said. “I really am, Malcolm. I could have found a different way to make sure you were fed. I should have found a different way. I’ve spent the week feeling terrified I’d lost you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.” Malcolm reached out and took Stuart’s hand. “I know you had good intentions. I’m not mad, I swear. I just needed some time to think about it all. Get my head back together.”
“I understand.” Stuart squeezed back.
“I, uh, did something kind of big.” Malcolm bit his lip. “I outed myself to my family last weekend.”
Stuart set down his glass of wine, glad he hadn’t taken a sip at the wrong moment or it would have ended up in his lungs. “What?”
“Jack and I had dinner with my mom, my dad and his wife, Gen.”
From what Stuart understood, getting all of them together was somewhat of a miracle but that wasn’t his most pressing concern. “And you told them…”
“That we’re dating.”
Another thread of fear in Stuart’s heart disintegrated. If Malcolm had told his family, that meant he was serious about it. About them. Their argument had been just that, an argument. A small blip on the radar of their entire relationship. They could work through this. His mind whirled at the possibility.
“How did everyone take the news?”
Malcolm smiled. “They were great. My mom was thrilled and said she saw it coming when you came to fix her steps.”
Stuart chuckled. He wasn’t surprised. Kim had been trying to get them together. And if Malcolm hadn’t known he was interested at the time, Stuart had been. “And everyone else?”
“My dad seemed perplexed. To him, it came out of nowhere. He was still very supportive. Jack’s happy for me—said he and his girlfriend would have fixed me up with guys, too, if they’d known. We talked more about it after we got back here. It really was good.” Malcolm toyed with his empty wine glass where it rested on the table. “I told him about my money issues, too.”
Stuart’s lips parted in surprise, but he let Malcolm continue.
“Jack and Marissa are moving in here together, actually. She’s going back to school, so their income is changing. We talked about ways to help Mom. He’s going to handle telling our dad. He doesn’t like that I’ve been carrying this stress while he had no idea what was going on.”
“That’s great.” Stuart felt a little stunned.
Malcolm looked down. “He also suggested I need to practice taking care of myself the way I do other people.”
“That seems like solid advice to me,” Stuart said softly.
“It is.”
“Could you let me take care of you, too?”
Malcolm opened his mouth, then hesitated, so Stuart continued.
“I shouldn’t have lied or discussed your personal issues with your friends. Trust is important in any relationship and I think it’s probably even more important between us. If you need to feel a bond with someone to develop deeper feelings, I have to make sure you know you can trust me.”
Malcolm nodded. “I agree.”
“While I had the best of intentions, the way I acted was a mistake. It’s one I don’t intend to repeat. Going forward, can you trust me enough to take care of you?”
“I’ll try.” Despite Malcolm’s hesitant tone, there was no hiding the sincerity in his gaze.
“Tonight was great. I enjoyed the dinner and I appreciate your desire to reciprocate. Not everything has to be exactly fifty-fifty, you know?”
Malcolm sighed. “That’s hard for me. I do know that, though.”
Stuart reached out and stroked Malcolm’s hair. “You’ve let Carter help you out in the past. He loaned you his car and you’ve mentioned that he brings you lunch. Why was it different with me? Why couldn’t you let me do things to help you?”
“I—I don’t know why it felt different actually. That doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“I understand that you want to keep things equitable between us—I do, too. But I’m not sitting around tallying up the things I do for you and that you do for me. I don’t see it that way. If you’re struggling now, I want to help. Someday, I might need your help and you’ll have the opportunity to do that for me. On a daily basis, I’m happy when I can make your life easier and I love when you do that for me,” Stuart said softly. “It’s no reflection on how capable I think you are. If anything, you’re so self-sufficient you push people away.”
Surprise and half a dozen other emotions flashed across Malcolm’s face before he slowly nodded. “You’re right. I’ve never trusted someone at this level before. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you. I’ve never had anyone to rely on this way, so I’m not used to it.”
“I know that,” Stuart said. “And I haven’t had many relationships that have made it this far, either. I’m still figuring it out. I want to help you in any way I can because I care so much for you.” Stuart brushed his thumb across Malcolm’s cheek. “I’m sorry I made you question if you can trust me. I never meant for that to happen.”
“I know.” Malcolm leaned into his touch. “I do trust you.”
“May I?” Stuart gently cupped the back of Malcolm’s head and he nodded.
With a relieved sigh, Stuart leaned in and brushed his lips across Malcolm’s. It sent a sharp pang through him as he wondered how he would have felt if Malcolm hadn’t been able to forgive him. He would have been devastated, and it would have been the first time he’d ever felt that in a relationship. When his marriage to Becky had imploded, he’d felt guilt and devastation at the loss of his family and his entire life. He’d missed her as a person but not as a partner. His secrets had kept him from ever getting as close to her as he’d wanted. Things were already becoming much deeper with Malcolm. Drawing back, Stuart rested his forehead against Malcolm’s. “I was really scared I was going to lose you there for a while.”
“I’m sorry.” Malcolm pulled away far enough to look Stuart in the eye, their hands still clasped together tightly. “I didn’t know you’d think that I wanted to end things. I just needed a chance to cool off and think more rationally.”
“I understand.”
“Why did you think that?” Malcolm asked. “What made you jump to that conclusion?”
Stuart grimaced. “I guess because my previous relationships haven’t stuck. My marriage to Becky was doomed from the start because I was lying to everyone about who I was and what I wanted from my life. And the men I’ve dated since then weren’t the kind of guys who didn’t stick around when things got tough. They cut their losses and ran. And, well, I was okay with that. I never cared enough about them to fight for the relationship, either. When a major problem cropped up, we’d go our separ
ate ways and it never mattered. But it does now.” He squeezed Malcolm’s hands more tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t want to lose you, either, Stuart. And I promise, even if I need space again in the future, it won’t mean I’m giving up on us.”
“I’ll remember that.” Stuart hesitated. “You do still want me to come to the wedding with you, right?”
Surprise flickered across Malcolm’s face. “Yeah, of course. If you still want to be there.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.” Malcolm’s smile was brilliant as he stood, drawing Stuart to his feet. “Come on, help me clean the table.”
The mood was lighter as they picked up the plates and loaded the dishwasher. The dessert was taken out of the oven and filled the air with its rich, fruity scent while they worked. Stuart kept bumping elbows and finding excuses to casually touch Malcolm, mentally reassuring himself that he hadn’t lost him.
When the kitchen was tidy, they retreated to the living room with bowls of the crisp topped with vanilla ice cream. Malcolm’s friends had gone all out trying to make sure he had everything he needed, and Stuart was grateful for their generosity.
“This is delicious,” Malcolm said after he took his first bite of dessert. His eyes were bright. “I’ve never had strawberry and basil together in anything except cocktails.”
“It makes a good jam, too,” Stuart said. “Or a sauce for chicken or pork. Great combo in spring salads, especially with goat cheese.”
“Carter would like that, I think. I’ll have to mention it to him.”
“That reminds me. How’s Carter dealing with everything that happened to you? I’ve been meaning to ask.”
Malcolm frowned and poked at the ice cream in his bowl with his spoon. “He was upset I hadn’t come to him about it.”
“I’m sure.”
“He looked absolutely gutted when we talked.” A remorseful expression crossed Malcolm’s face. “I felt awful. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t put the pieces together. I know he blames himself.”
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