by Ana Ashley
I heard the noise of a key at the door as I was turning the corner from the corridor and stopped in my tracks in the middle of the living room when the door opened.
Big brown eyes stared at me from behind dark-rimmed glasses. We were locked in position for minutes or hours, I wasn't sure.
As those deep eyes left mine and started drifting down my body, I remembered I was only wearing a towel and blood had started rushing south. No wonder I'd lost the ability to think, let alone question why I was facing the beautiful young man I'd kissed at the bar just over a week ago.
"What are you doing here?"
There was a hint of anger in his voice. What the hell?
"Do you work for the agency?" I asked.
"What?"
He reached for the phone in his pocket.
"Who are you calling?" I asked.
"My friend, the owner of this apartment. Who do you think I'm calling?"
He looked like he was about to lose it, and I was only wearing a towel.
The ding coming from the elevator made us both jump and realize the front door was still open behind him.
He turned to close the door but didn't shut it all the way, as though it would be a bad thing to have us both together within the four walls of the apartment.
"Look, I'm not sure what's happening, but I'm feeling a little underdressed. Do you mind if I go put some clothes on and then we can figure this out?"
"Fine." He huffed as I turned back toward the master bedroom.
When I returned to the living room, he wasn't there and the front door was closed properly. I followed the noise of the coffee machine. He didn't hear me approach, so I was able to take him in as he moved around the kitchen like he was at home.
His jeans clung to his ass like they were made to measure, and he'd changed from a shirt to a long-sleeve T-shirt that fit his slim form perfectly.
When we'd met at the bar, he'd been sitting down, and then when I'd kissed him, my brain had been all but short-circuiting. All I remembered about him, apart from the feel of his body against mine and his soft sweet lips, were his eyes. That shade of dark chocolate I'd wanted nothing more than to indulge in.
I forced myself to look away and get my lust under control. The guy was too young, and I was definitely not on the market. For goodness sake, I loved my husband.
He went to the fridge and took the plates of ham and cheese, and I saw he had a few slices of bread ready to make a sandwich. Shit, maybe the guy lived here and this had been a mistake by the agency. To think, I actually thought the agency had been extra efficient by giving me some welcome groceries. Unfortunately, it was too late to call them and clarify, so we'd have to agree on some kind of arrangement for tonight.
"I'm sorry, I may have overreacted a little earlier," he said, "but I thought you were a burglar."
"Oh yes, the semi-naked burglar gang. I've recently been initiated." I chuckled and saw the tips of his ears go pink.
He didn't turn from his sandwich preparation. "I'm starving and assumed you might need something to eat, too. Is a sandwich okay?"
"Yes, thank you. You're right, you caught me just as I was on my way to prepare something to eat. I want to help, but I haven't been here long enough to locate the cups and cutlery."
"That cupboard, first door, bottom shelf, and the spoons are in that drawer." He pointed to the cupboard on his left-hand side.
Once I located the cups and filled them with fresh coffee, we sat at the table with our food.
"So," we both said at the same time.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Vítor, yours?"
He stopped what he was doing and stared at me for a few seconds before he shook his head like he was shaking an errant thought and put his hand out in my direction.
"I'm Tiago. Nice to meet you, Vítor."
We both laughed. We were introducing ourselves like we'd never met before when only days ago we'd had our tongues down each other's throats. Somehow, the moment dissipated some of the tension between us.
"This is my friend's apartment," he said. "Isaac lives in New York now. I'm staying here for the next two months while my place is remodeled. How is it that you had a key to get in?"
"I have a new job here in Lisbon. My partner's assistant arranged the rental. I had a few options for apartments and picked this one because of the view of the river. The agency sent me the contract and the keys, so I know I'm not in the wrong place."
Tiago's face dropped, and he put his sandwich down.
"I guess you have more right to be here than I do. Isaac was going to remove the apartment from the market, but my guess is this all happened too quickly." He paused like he was steeling himself to ask a very difficult question.
"Can I ask a favor? I can find somewhere else for tomorrow, but could I stay for tonight?"
Part of me was angry that he'd think I'd kick him out on the street just like that, but I also saw the vulnerability in his eyes.
"I've only been here long enough to unpack and take a shower, but I know there's a second room, probably the one you've been staying in since there were no personal belongings in the master bedroom."
"That used to be Isaac's room. I felt odd sleeping there, so I took the guest bedroom."
"Why don't you stay here as you planned."
He nodded, but he didn't look any happier with my offer.
"Oh, er, I'm not sure that's a good idea," Tiago said. "I mean, it’s for two months."
"Why?"
"Because… well, er…" His cheeks went a delectable shade of pink. "The bar. Umm, what happened the other week."
I knew we'd have to talk about it eventually, so I guessed this was as good a time as any.
"Look, Tiago, I'm sorry I kissed you like that and then just ran out. I was going through some stuff that day, and I have a history with that bar. I wasn't thinking. If you can forgive the momentary lapse of an old man, then I could use the company."
Tiago stilled and got up. I thought he might walk out on me, which I would have deserved considering what I did to him, but he only went to grab a glass of water.
"You're not an old man, and thank you, I would love to stay if you're sure I won't be in your way. Two months is a long time."
"Yes, I'm sure. Two months will fly by, and as I said, I'd love the company," I said.
We ate the rest of our sandwiches while we made light conversation.
"So, you did take the job you mentioned at the bar."
"Yeah, I guess I did."
"You're still not sure about it."
That wasn't a question. I looked at him and he smiled. I hadn't noticed he'd placed his glasses on the table while he ate. His eyes, without the glass barrier, were deeper and even more piercing than ever.
"Has anyone ever told you how see-through you are?"
"Yes. Yes, someone has," I struggled to say.
"Shit, I put my foot in it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"No, it's okay. You were right. I always struggled to keep my emotions to myself. It has landed me in trouble more than a few times."
Tiago looked like he wanted to say something, but it never came. Instead, he got up to clean up the dishes.
"Nope, it's my turn. You prepared the food."
"Thanks. I had a long day, so I'm going to grab a shower and go to bed," he said.
"Tiago," I called before he left the kitchen. "I should do some grocery shopping. The fridge is rather empty. Is there anything I can get you tomorrow?"
"No, thanks. I don't do a lot of cooking, especially not in Isaac's nice kitchen. Let's say fire and I don't get on very well." He laughed.
I smiled back. "Okay."
And as he turned back toward his bedroom, I decided what I was going to do with the food situation in the apartment. I was also not going to think of Tiago naked in the shower only a few rooms away.
I realized then that I hadn't thought of Dri in all the time I'd been in Tiago's presence. A heavy weight sett
led on my heart, and my hand rubbed my chest almost instinctively. The apology wanted to leave my lips, but I knew wherever Dri was he knew how I felt.
As soon as I finished in the kitchen, I went over to my room and opened my laptop to do some work. Tomorrow was a new beginning. Whatever that meant.
8
Tiago
"Morning!"
I looked up from my computer to see David and Joel coming into the center. I normally didn't have any visitors this early, which meant they were concerned about me.
I got up to greet them. "Guys, shouldn't you be in bed?"
They exchanged a look and a smile that managed to warm me even though it wasn't directed at me.
"I'm going to work on the wall," Joel said before he gave David a kiss and went out through the door behind my desk.
The secluded back garden was by far the favorite hangout for the majority of the kids that came to the center after school. When we remodeled it last year, we'd asked for some suggestions, and they'd wanted a wall they could paint over and over again. The idea was that a group would paint something on the wall and we would keep it for some time before we painted over it and started again. So far, we'd had six awesome pieces of temporary art.
The art didn't get completely lost once it was painted over. Apart from the group photos we took after each piece was complete, we also took photos we could use for marketing purposes and to raise money. Some of our benefactors loved the idea so much that they were now collecting each photo every time we had a new painting. Thankfully, that also came with a much-needed donation, so I was glad to see we were about to get a new piece.
"The kids asked Joel to help them with some quotes for the wall. He wouldn't stop talking about it," David said.
"Is that why you're here?" I raised a brow, and David smiled shyly.
"I have custard tarts. Want to get some coffee going?" he said, placing a small box on my desk.
"Like I'd say no. Keep an eye out here."
I left and headed for the kitchen. The garden was out back through the kitchen, so I expected to see Joel getting ready to paint the wall white again, but I was surprised to see him sitting at one of the kitchen tables looking at his phone.
"Why do I feel this is a trap?"
He smiled and pointed at the chair across from his, motioning for me to sit. I noticed the coffee machine was already going.
"Sorry, it wasn't our intention," he said. "David was really worried about you yesterday. He wanted to follow you home to make sure you were okay."
"Thank you. I am okay, honestly."
He played with the phone and then took a big breath. "I know we haven't talked much about it, but if you ever need to, you know you can talk to me, right? After yesterday, I realized what an unfair thing it was to ask you to find Vítor. David had a hard time growing up with such a strained relationship with Mário. Now that things are back on track, I know he's desperately trying to do this for his uncle, knowing how much he still misses his brother."
"If anyone gets it, it's me." I put my hand on Joel's restless one.
"I want him to be happy."
"He is happy. This is the happiest I've seen him since I've met him. He was always good at pretending he was okay, but now that I've seen how his face lights up even when he just says your name, I can tell the difference. That is true happiness. He may want to find Vítor so badly that it consumes him, but it doesn't mean he's not happy."
"Thank you," Joel said, and I got up to pour the freshly brewed coffee into our mugs so I could return to the front of the center.
David looked more worried than before as I placed the coffee mug in front of him and reached out for the custard tart box.
"Come to daddy," I said, inhaling the scent of the pastries and taking one out. "If Joel doesn't come out, I'm having his, too."
"They're all for you."
"Man, you keep this up and I'll marry you." And as if he was listening behind the door, Joel came back, planted a toe-curling kiss on David's mouth, stole a tart, and left again. I couldn't help laughing.
"Now that he's marked his territory, shall we talk about what's on your mind?"
He put an envelope on the desk and pushed it toward me.
"What's this?"
"Aunt Teresa said they don't have any photos of Vítor because his dad destroyed them all. Last night, Joel had the idea to go through my mom's old photos. I found a few that I'm pretty sure have Vítor in them."
I opened the envelope and took out the three photos. On one of them, two young guys and two girls sat on the beach. My guess was they were eighteen or nineteen when the photo was taken.
"That's my aunt and uncle," David said, pointing to the couple on the right, "and that's my mom, so I guess Vítor is the other guy, but he could also be the one taking the photo. If you look at the other photo, he's there again with my mom next to the car she owned with Joel's mom."
"How about the third one? I can't see him." The third photo was a large group photo taken at Mário and Teresa's wedding. The age and resolution of the photograph made it difficult to distinguish faces, but after a minute I spotted him.
"Oh yes, he's here next to Mário. He looks really happy, and look, your mom is next to Teresa."
"I showed these to my aunt. She told me Vítor and Mom were their maid of honor and best man. They joked that day that Mom and Vítor would be the next ones down the aisle."
I looked at David. "Do you think they were together?"
"They were best friends, for sure."
I looked at the beach photo again. They all looked happy and relaxed. I noticed that Vítor had blue eyes unlike his brother but still had the same dark hair. The photo was old, but I could tell he'd been a very handsome young man. Paula and Teresa could have been twins with their long wavy dark brown hair and brown eyes.
"Can I keep these? I want to study them further."
"Sure. Thanks, T, I really appreciate what you're doing. I know it's not easy for you. So, what else is going on with you? I haven't seen Fred around in a while."
"Well, if that's not the million-euro question. I haven't heard from him, either, and it's worrying me, but I know sometimes he can be away for long periods of time."
"And how about you?"
I sighed.
"Believe it or not, there is more than one Vítor in my head at the moment." I chuckled.
David perked up. "Do tell."
I told him about the evening Fred couldn't meet me at the bar and how I met Vítor, the kiss, and then last night when he turned out to be the new tenant from the agency.
"He didn't have to do that, you know. He could have kicked me out right there and then."
"What's he like, then?"
"He's a little taller than me, well-built but not overly muscly, and he has this little dimple on his chin and salt-and-pepper hair—"
"Oh my god, you want to get in his pants."
"I don't think he heard you all the way from wherever he works now."
"Wait. How old is this guy?"
"Forty-five? A little older? Don't think he'd be fifty, though."
David stared back at me.
"What? I don't care about shit like age. The man is unarguably beautiful. It doesn't matter, anyway, because nothing is going to happen between us."
"Why not?"
"Because he lost his husband a while ago, and I'm not sure he's ready for anything."
"Not even some no-strings-attached fun?"
I shook my head.
David insisted that I could stay with them in their apartment in Caparica, but I didn't want to be in their space. After thirteen years apart, they deserved all the alone time they needed.
"Pass, I'd get diabetes in three days flat from pastries and your sickly-sweet love."
When Joel joined us, we'd already done the baking workshop schedule and a shopping list, so they went back to Caparica and left me to my work and thoughts of the man I wanted to jump but couldn't. They'd also left behind the box th
at still contained two custard tarts, one of which I was going to save for Vítor.
While the day started well with my friends' visit, it went downhill very quickly. I was starting to think this was now my life.
The water company sent us a bill that was more than double our normal amount. After hours on the phone with numerous customer care assistants and going through all the bureaucracy that came with having to explain why it was me on the phone and not Isaac, I managed to speak to someone who still had both halves of their brain talking to each other.
"To be honest, Tiago, I can't see an error in the system. I was hoping there was one because if the charges are correct, then it means you have a leak somewhere in the building."
"Fuck my life. I don't need this," I muttered to myself but clearly not quietly enough because the guy on the other end of the phone laughed.
"You need to call the maintenance helpline. They'll arrange for a certified plumber to inspect the property. If it turns out you have a water leak, they can help fix it. If not, then you'll need to come back to us so we can have another look at the bill."
The only thing that was keeping me from having a mental breakdown was the stress ball I was holding in my hand. It was bound to burst any time now from being overworked, and it wouldn't even be the first time that had happened, or the second.
By three in the afternoon, I'd spent a total of four hours on the phone, mostly on hold, and had explained the problem to at least five people. By six, I still didn't have a plumber willing to come to inspect the potential leak.
"Can I speak to Oliveira, please? Tell him it's Tiago from Fundação Arco-Íris." Oliveira worked for Lisbon city council and was one of the few people I knew there who used their power and influence to help people.
"He's not available, sir. Can I book an appointment for another time?"
"He's never available. Please tell him it's me. He will pick up my call."
For all the challenges I faced and the damned homophobic bastards that put walls in my way, there were still a few places I could go to. Oliveira always listened without judgment and then decided if he could help or influence a decision. He was also a straight-as-an-arrow married man with two children. He was the personification of an ally if there ever was one.