I'll Be Your Man

I’ll Be Your Man

Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

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I’ll Be Your Man Copyright © July 2011 by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-61118-436-5 Editor: Jules Robin Cover Artist: P. L. Nunn Printed in the United States of America

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Chapter One Richard sat in his study, thumbing through the Boston Business Journal without reading it, his thoughts on his son Kyle as he waited for him to arrive. It had been over a month since they‟d seen each other. Though Richard did his best to create opportunities for father-son interaction, now that Kyle was in grad school, he‟d gotten adept at dodging him. “Not today, buster. Not after that stunt.” Checking the time on his cell phone, Richard rose and went to the window, standing watch until he saw Kyle‟s flashy red Corvette pull into the long horseshoe drive. It looked like someone was in the passenger‟s seat. Richard allowed a sigh, probably his last audible one of the evening, and made his way to the front door. Only dignity enabled him to stand immobile until Kyle rang the bell. A quick look through the peephole told Richard the passenger had been a handsome, vaguely familiar young man—as opposed to some poor girl Kyle was leading on. He opened the door and fixed Kyle with his sternest look. Kyle‟s standard “aw, c‟mon, Dad” expression was affixed before he‟d even stepped inside. The other man looked of an age with his son, perhaps twenty-four, and Richard gestured to him to come in as well. “I don‟t think this was necessary, Dad.” Richard turned, smoothing his white oxford shirt and charcoal merino trousers as he eyed his son. “To be frank, Kyle, I don‟t care what you think.” Then he turned his gaze on the guest and held out his hand. “Richard Lynch. Welcome. I‟d planned to take Kyle out to dinner to have our discussion. If you‟re amenable, I‟ll make the reservation for three.”

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“Hi. Paul Watkins.” He shook Richard‟s hand and shot an uneasy glance at Kyle that said he hadn‟t expected to be a fifth wheel. Richard recognized the name as that of Kyle‟s roommate. “That would be great. If you need privacy, I can eat at the bar.” “Oh Paul, we can‟t let you eat at the bar all alone.” Kyle narrowed his eyes and punched Paul on the shoulder hard enough to make the athletically built blond stagger. It was obvious Kyle didn‟t want to face Richard alone. Paul massaged his bicep through a sheer silk-blend shirt more suited to clubbing than going out for dinner. He pushed his aviators from his tanned face to restrain damp hair and reveal piercing gray eyes. “Whatever, dude. Long as I don‟t starve, I guess.” “Yeah, Kyle, whatever, dude,” Richard echoed with a hint of irony. He looked into his son‟s dark eyes, so like his, and reached out to ruffle his soft hair. It seemed unchanged from childhood, and though Kyle ducked away after a few moments, it served to remind Richard why he put himself through these things. He‟d given everything to make his family work, and while his marriage had ended in heartbreak, he cherished his not so little boy. “Make yourselves comfortable. I‟ll be right back.” Giving them a final look, he added, “Paul can sit wherever he wants, but I‟m not going easy on you just because he‟s here.” Richard left them standing there and headed for his bedroom to grab his suit coat, calling the restaurant on the way to add one to his reservation. From his professionally organized closet, he withdrew first one jacket, then two more, and headed back to the foyer with the keys to his beloved vintage Jag in his hand. “All set?” Richard handed each of the young men a coat and pulled on his own before herding them toward the garage door to pile into the elegant sedan. Kyle rolled his eyes as he pulled on the jacket, seeming to have trouble walking and dressing at the same time. “Fuck, are we going to one of your stuffy old-people restaurants?”

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Paul slipped on his jacket without complaint and hopped into the back of the dark green car. He had pulled on the lap belt before Kyle even sat down. Kyle, on the other hand, flopped into the bucket seat, pushed it back as far as it would go, and then slouched with the air of one whose life was nothing but a series of torments. Richard watched them from the corner of his eye as he adjusted his mirrors, feeling compelled to tilt the rearview so he could keep an eye on Paul. He fastened his belt and double-checked for his wallet and house keys, grunting in irritation as Kyle jostled him. As Richard checked his gauges, Kyle twisted in his seat to smirk at Paul. “There‟s not going to be any of that vegan bullshit you like on this menu.” Richard caught the motion of Paul‟s shrug in the mirror as he started the car. When he replied, his tone made plain that this was not their first time having this discussion. “I‟m not a vegan, Kyle. I like to eat healthy. If I‟m troubled by the inhumane means in which some animals are slaughtered, that is my business. Shouldn‟t you be talking to your dad?” “He does everything he can to avoid it.” Richard shot Paul a wan smile as he hit the garage-door button. Once he‟d backed into the driveway, he glanced in the mirror again, curious what his son was doing hanging around with someone with a social conscience. Ever since Richard had become aware of his own, Kyle had done nothing but give him grief about it. “There are several cruelty-free options on the menu where we‟re going—plenty of organic, heart-healthy stuff. At my age, I‟ve got to pay attention to those things.” Kyle fired back so quickly that he almost drowned out Richard‟s last words. “Yeah, at your age. Don‟t make me eat that shit.” Richard stifled a sigh as he drove through the pristine streets of his neighborhood. He‟d changed a lot since the divorce, but now Kyle sounded a lot like the old Richard—the way that Richard used to think. Or at least the way Richard had thought the family provider was supposed to think.

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Trying to be patient, Richard gathered his thoughts before speaking. “I think we‟ve established I don‟t make you do anything, Kyle. If you want a pound of beef covered in steak sauce with a Close Encounters mountain of mashed potatoes, no vegetables, and six dinner rolls slathered in butter—and I know you do—I‟ll bite my tongue. But for my sake, will you please let your friend do his arteries a favor without unnecessary comment?” Kyle held his hand in a circle in front of his face, pressing his tongue to his cheek to simulate a blowjob. At first Richard thought it was in response to him, but then Kyle said, “Nah, Paul loves to eat meat. Don‟t you, Paul?” From the corner of his eye, Richard saw Paul pull his sunglasses over his eyes and press his lips together. “That‟s such a weird thing to say in front of your dad. And would you put on your seat belt? I see enough of you all day. I really don‟t need to see your innards when you go through the windshield.” “What? It‟s not like it‟s a secret. Besides, Dad‟s practically a liberal now, eating at places with cruelty-free options.” Kyle huffed, but he pulled on his seat belt. When Richard peeked back, Paul was staring out the window, his expression carefully blank. Then he flipped up the lapel of the jacket Richard had loaned him, gave it a discreet sniff, and for a moment, his lips turned up. Richard turned his eyes back to the road, trying to concentrate despite how few surprises ever materialized on these broad, well-lit streets. “Like the cologne? It‟s L’Homme. Used to wear Aramis, but after a while, I realized I smelled like an old man.” Richard nudged Kyle with his elbow. “Now Kyle stinks like old man. What are you wearing, Son? Old Spice? Let me guess. You heard if you smell like a girl‟s dad, she‟s more likely to trust you and let you take off her panties.” Glancing sideways to affirm the truth of the statement, Richard caught Kyle‟s red-faced eye roll. Richard‟s grimly tightened lips relaxed long enough for him to smirk at his son. Then he looked back to the rearview mirror for one last glimpse of Paul‟s strangely sweet face before he headed into the city itself. Once they were

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inside the Boston city limits, he had no intention of letting feuding college kids distract him. “See? This is why I avoid him.” Richard felt more than saw Kyle‟s slumped sulking. Without looking over, he knew Kyle had twisted around again to appeal to his backseat compatriot. “Sounds like he has your number.” Richard could hear the smile in Paul‟s voice. “Only because it‟s a ploy he probably used.” Richard felt Kyle‟s annoyed stare on him. He permitted himself a derisive snort. “Whatever. Your dad is charming enough to not need a magical wingman and cheap perfume to get tail.” There was a flurry of movement as Paul leaned forward and forced Kyle to face the windshield. “Just because you‟re deflecting your conversation onto me doesn‟t mean you can ignore basic safety.” “I‟m charming! I‟m very fucking charming.” Kyle struggled briefly but gave up as they pulled up to the valet. “This place again? They didn‟t have my kind of steak sauce last time.” With a look thick with distaste, Richard exited the sedan and handed the valet his keys. “You‟re not twelve anymore, Son. A grown man whining like a child about steak sauce when most of the world can‟t afford steak is immoral.” Richard got the door for Paul without thinking about it until he noticed the look on the young man‟s face. Giving him a pleasant smile, Richard gestured to Paul to precede him to the entrance. By the time Richard joined the boys at the door, his frustration was ebbing. Whatever else was going on, at least he wasn‟t home alone again. Even when his son was in a mood, time spent with him was precious. Trying to set a good example, Richard greeted the staff by name and asked after their families as his party was led to their table. He slipped a fifty into the host‟s sleeve as they shook hands, and the man promised their wine would be right out.

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“Thank you so much for getting me such a great table on such short notice. Always the best service in town.” At least this part of his life still ran smoothly. Settling into one side of the spacious booth, Richard gave Kyle an inviting look, patting the seat beside him. “I‟m not twelve, as you so helpfully pointed out.” Kyle‟s square jaw clenched in defiance, not relaxing until he‟d seated himself as far from Richard as possible. “You‟re acting twelve.” Paul looked between the two, folded his glasses, and stuck them into the jacket‟s inner pocket before dropping onto the leather booth next to Richard. Kyle pointed at Paul. “You stay out of it.” “Little late for that, dude.” Paul turned toward Richard. “This is a nice place. I came here once, but my dad‟s barred from entering. I apologize in advance if someone tries to boot me.” Kyle sat straighter. “Yeah? I bet that‟s a good story. Paul‟s dad is epic. You know Bruce Watkins from that band, Merging Traffic? No, you wouldn‟t know; you‟re too old. Dad doesn‟t listen to anything that isn‟t from the seventeenth century.” “Stop being a shit, Kyle.” Richard glared at his son. Normally having his age pointed out didn‟t bother Richard, but tonight it left him feeling anxious and exposed. The wine arrived—Richard always had a glass of the house red before he so much as ordered—and peace reigned for a few moments until they‟d conferred with their waiter. As soon as the man was out of earshot, though, Richard turned back on his son with an air not much different than that of a tiger turning on a goat. “Listen, kid, I know you think I‟m some old fart who doesn‟t know anything about anything, but I‟m the one paying the bills. You might want to play ball before we hit the main event, and if I keep mixing metaphors like that, hopefully you‟ll get the picture that I am fucking pissed.” Richard drew a shaky breath and patted Paul‟s shoulder in apology before reaching for his wine to take a steadying sip.‟

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He looked sidelong at Paul and gave him a halfhearted attempt at a smile. “I recall vaguely the song your father‟s famous for, but I was never into…those bands.” Richard‟s gaze shot back to Kyle before he could smart off with anything else. “How you got into grad school unable to tell the difference between the ‟70s and the seventeenth century is beyond me. I‟m sure Led Zeppelin would be amazed to hear they‟re a baroque act.” “Oh, I love Led Zeppelin.” Paul nodded to the waiter and pointed at Richard‟s glass, indicating he wanted one of the same. “And music from all centuries. Well, maybe not the early caveman stuff.” Settling into the corner of the booth and staring at the younger men, Richard affected the indifference of the musicians he‟d hung out with before he‟d met Catherine. “Whatever. I only listen to the early stuff. The cavemen sold out. They changed, man.” “You‟re not as funny as you think, Dad.” As the waiter arrived with wine for Paul, Kyle slouched and glared. “What, I don‟t get any wine?” “I think you‟ve got enough whine for everyone present.” Richard gave Kyle a look as he waved the waiter away. Kyle was pushing his luck already, and the food hadn‟t even been served. Even with his father‟s death glare on him, Kyle refused to relent, reaching for Richard‟s glass to steal a sip. “Try it and come back with a stump.” Kyle hesitated at Richard‟s tone, then withdrew his hand. Paul smiled as if used to Kyle‟s attitude, took a sip of his wine, and sat back as the server placed the salads before them. “I didn‟t inherit any of my dad‟s talent, but then, he only carries a tune, and not very far most of the time. I just love music.” Kyle fidgeted, looking nervously left and right. “I like old bands too. A lot of them.” Richard cut off any argument with another look. “You like the Beatles. That doesn‟t count. Everyone likes the Beatles.” Richard regretted shutting Kyle down

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once the words were out—he knew it was more of his unresolved bitterness with Catherine making him do it—but he wasn‟t sure how to fix it. Instead, they waited in relative silence until their salads were finished and the main course was served. Richard let Kyle cut into his steak, and as Kyle took the first bite, Richard gave him a dark smile. “So, last week I got a request for approval on a five-grand withdrawal. I let it go through, but don‟t think it escaped my notice. Would you care to enlighten your old man as to what you needed that kind of cash for?” Kyle looked to Paul with desperation plain on his face, but Richard cut in. “I asked you, Son, not your friend. Man up.” “It wasn‟t a big deal.” The words erupted from Kyle‟s mouth like a volcano going off, and their velocity told Richard more than he wanted to know about the kind of hot water he must have been in. “Is it gambling? Hookers?” Richard paused, brow furrowing as he gathered his nerve to bring up the worst of his fears. “Is it drugs, Kyle?” “No.” Kyle looked down at his steak and cut off another hunk to fork into his mouth, his eyes darting to Paul every so often. Paul pushed his free-range chicken around the plate, meeting Kyle‟s looks and shaking his head. Finally, Richard felt Kyle kick Paul under the table. “Man, I‟ll tell him, but it‟s going to be worse if I do. He‟ll be angry and all, but he‟s still your dad.” Kyle glared at Paul. “There was a girl; she was, uh, late, if you know what I mean. Paul said we needed money to take care of it.” Paul ducked his head, his lips tight like he was bracing himself to be yelled at. “Oh.” Richard fought to keep his face from crumpling, but the sudden hollow ache in his gut made him feel like he‟d been kicked in the stomach. On autopilot, he reached for his wine and drained it. When he realized the shock wasn‟t going to wear off soon, he straightened his spine and drew his head up to fix his son with a level gaze.

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“So you had a contraceptive mishap. Well, that‟s…” Richard trailed off. Despite his best efforts to keep things moving, to not let awkward silence rule, he found he was without words. “It‟s not a big deal, Dad. It‟s handled. I handled it.” Richard looked up from his untouched plate of wild-caught salmon on a bed of wild rice and greens to see his son, his precious little boy, looking at him with no hint of comprehension as to the gravity of what he‟d done. Despite everything his parents had told him, Kyle seemed to have no idea how serious it was to get someone pregnant, how life-changing it could be or what it did to relationships, not to mention the emotional toll an abortion could take on a young woman. Even if the young lady wasn‟t ready for a baby and agreed it was the right thing to do, it wasn‟t the sort of decision most women took lightly. Kyle‟s assertion that it wasn‟t a big deal made Richard feel like a failure as a parent. Then there was the fact that it sounded like Kyle didn‟t know the woman well, which opened up a whole other set of concerns—enough to make Richard‟s head spin. Richard lifted a hand to cover his gaping mouth. He swallowed hard and then turned his head to look at Paul. The man was still crouched there so vulnerable and ready to be the whipping boy. As tempting as it was to lay the blame at someone else‟s feet, it wasn‟t Paul‟s fault. “Thank you for being there for my son.” Richard took a deep breath, considered saying more, and then fell silent as his gaze returned to the food he now couldn‟t imagine eating. Paul turned his head toward Richard but didn‟t meet his eyes. “It‟s a standard agreement. Part of the money was for the procedure. I went with her as support and to make sure it was done.” Paul paused, his breathing uneven. “It‟s really for the best. The young lady in question… Well, I suspect the baby may not have been Kyle‟s. It wasn‟t exactly a…relationship.” Then he leaned in closer, whispering into Richard‟s ear. “I‟d really like it if you could convince Kyle to be screened for… I thought I saw some lesions on him before all this, and it‟s probably nothing, but I

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can‟t convince him to do it. I‟d tell Cathy about it, but I know she wouldn‟t handle it well; she doesn‟t even want to believe he‟s having sex. I‟m really very sorry about all of this.” Richard couldn‟t hide his horror at the thought of his son catching something. Worse than that, though, was the thought that his son was not only being cavalier about knocking people up, but about possibly infecting them. “If you‟re whispering to him about what I think you are, you can both fuck off. I‟m plenty careful.” Kyle stabbed his fork into what was left of his steak and then shoved it away. “Paul‟s jealous because he doesn‟t get laid enough.” Paul shook his head and looked away again until he caught the waiter‟s attention. The waiter returned with an uncorked bottle. Richard let the waiter fill his glass. They weren‟t done yet. By the time this was hashed out, he might call a damn cab. With as much grace as he could muster, Richard captured Kyle‟s hand and refused to let go. “There‟s no such thing as plenty careful. There is no such thing as safe sex, Kyle. I know you don‟t want to hear it, but there‟s not. Condoms fail sometimes. Herpes just requires skin contact, so even with a condom…” Richard shook his head, squeezing his son‟s resistant hand tighter. “I‟m not going to guilt you about the girl, and I‟m not going to tell your mother, but can you imagine how she‟d feel? I‟m a businessman. I‟m practical. I know sometimes things happen, and you have to make a tough decision.

“But Kyle…I don‟t think this was a tough decision for you. It sounds like you stuck your friend here with the responsibility, and you went on your merry way. That‟s not how I raised you.” “You didn‟t raise me at all!” Kyle‟s shout drew stares from all over the restaurant. Richard dropped his hand and started to rise, only to realize Paul sat in his way. “Excuse me, please.” Being scrutinized by strangers during a family quarrel made Richard‟s skin crawl.

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“Kyle,” Paul stage-whispered. His brows furrowed as he looked around and gave Kyle a meaningful look. Paul stood to let Richard out, but before Richard could escape what was turning into a public spectacle, Paul took Richard‟s hand and squeezed it. “He didn‟t know what to do. I know he‟s being a douche right now, but he doesn‟t mean—” The manager seemed to appear out of nowhere to put his hand on Paul‟s arm. “I thought you looked familiar. You are not allowed in here, and you know that.” Paul held his hands up in surrender. “I‟m sorry. I‟ll go.” Kyle jumped up. “No way! You can‟t throw him out. If he‟s not welcome here, I‟m not staying either.” “Shh, no it‟s okay. I‟ll wait outside.” Paul squeezed Kyle‟s shoulder. “I don‟t want to disrupt everyone‟s dinner.” “What the hell is going on here?” All Richard‟s simmering anger focused on the interloper. His eyes narrowed as his breathing sped, and he shoved between Paul and the manager, physically separating them with his body. “Apologies, Mr. Lynch, but this young man and his family aren‟t permitted in this establishment.” The manager, known to Richard only as Al, looked genuinely uncomfortable, but Richard wasn‟t about to let that pacify him. “„This young man‟ is my guest tonight.” “You are a respected, valued customer, but I‟m afraid we have standards about the clientele we allow in.” Richard only realized how furious he must look when Al cringed as if readying for a blow. The eyes of all the other diners had been drawn already by Kyle‟s classless shout, and now this. “You have standards about clientele. I have standards about service. Don‟t expect me to pay for this meal you‟ve ruined for my guest, and don‟t expect to see me or any of my friends and colleagues here again.” He reached behind him and gave each of his boys a tug to get them moving. With them in tow, he barged out of

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the restaurant and gave the valet a look that had the Jag pulling up inside of thirty seconds. Richard tipped him well and got the door for each of the boys, shoving them at their seats as if they were small children. “I‟m sorry. I‟m so sorry, Mr. Lynch.” Paul had crossed his arms tightly around his body and looked like he might vomit at any minute. “That was awesome, Dad,” said Kyle. “Woohoo! You told them. Standards of service, and bam! „No one‟s coming here ever again. You are all dead to me.‟” Kyle had fixed Richard with a look of unadulterated glee. He held his hand up for Richard to give him five, like they‟d accomplished anything other than being thrown out. Richard left him hanging, instead engaging first gear and putting on the gas. “A little less exultation please, Kyle.” Richard pulled out of the parking lot, careful to go slowly until he was certain he hadn‟t had too much to drink, and then headed toward the suburbs and home. Once he had them safely underway, Richard let out a long, tired breath he didn‟t realize he‟d been holding. From the backseat, Paul continued to apologize. “For God‟s sake, stop apologizing, and stop feeling guilty. There are groceries at home. That restaurant hasn‟t been hip since ‟03 anyway.” Richard looked in the rearview mirror at Paul, his heart aching for how humiliated he looked. Despite being built and having a face that could have been carved from marble, Paul seemed like a helpless little boy. Richard spared one hand to reach back and give Paul‟s knee a reassuring squeeze before he needed to shift gears again. Paul was still staring at the place where Richard had touched him, but then he sought Richard‟s reflection in the mirror. “Thanks for standing up for me. I‟m not sorry about the restaurant as much as how hectic things were, and then all of that got tossed in.” Richard waved it off, but it touched him that the young man felt so bad about how things had gone.

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Paul laughed ruefully, and though Richard couldn‟t glance away from traffic to see his expression, he could sense his shame. “If I didn‟t look exactly like him when he was young and famous, they probably wouldn‟t remember me at all. My dad doesn‟t just happen on chaos—he invites it over and gives it a seat at the table, but that‟s not how I roll.” In his peripheral vision, Richard saw Paul hide behind his sunglasses again. “So I‟m sorry to you and to Kyle.” Then Kyle reached back, a smacking sound and the pressure on the back of Richard‟s seat indicating he was slapping his friend‟s leg. “You know you never have to be sorry to me, man. I know you‟re cool. And my dad eats people like that for lunch. Don‟t you, Dad?” “I am indeed a corporate cannibal.” Richard couldn‟t focus on the road like he needed to. Seeing his son comfort someone was something he‟d given up on years ago. But then, Paul did seem like the kind of undemanding boy that most deserved such comfort. It seemed grossly unfair to Richard that with a father who so deeply loved him, Kyle was a selfish brat, and with a father who by all accounts was good for nothing, Paul seemed so sweet and practical. “Anyway.” Richard cleared his throat and forced his eyes forward, not allowing even a glimpse from the corner of his eye. “Kyle, don‟t think I‟ve forgotten about things. The enormity of what you‟ve done is not a free-pass situation just because your friend faced some discrimination. You are going in to be tested if I have to drag you.” Kyle interrupted. “Dad, it‟s not necessary.” “Yes, it is. It‟s necessary. If you have herpes or something, we need to get it treated immediately. It‟s not like a sprained ankle you can ice and rest and forget about in a week. Do you have any idea how serious this is? It never, ever goes away. You‟ll have to marry a woman with herpes if you don‟t want to give her something, and if you marry a woman with herpes, what if she gives it to your children? Maybe

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it doesn‟t make a difference to you, but if a newborn gets infected, there‟s a good chance it will suffer permanent brain damage.” Richard cut himself off and ran a frustrated hand through his short, messy hair. His broad shoulders tensed, drawing taut the tailored fabric of his suit coat. He had such perfect control of everything else, and if Kyle was going to behave this way, the same tactics were going to have to apply. “You will get tested immediately, Son, and if there is an issue, we will handle it. From now on, if you want enough money to make things right with someone, you will ask for it from me directly, because I‟m locking down your account for any extraordinary expenditure.” Richard fell silent, almost home, and braced for Kyle‟s impending torrent of whining. “You are so uncool, Dad. Paul‟s father wouldn‟t make him get tested for herpes.” Kyle flopped against the passenger door, his tense posture radiating resentment. Paul cleared his throat. “Paul‟s father has herpes and probably a host of other things and would probably think it was cool if his son was as diseased as he was.” “Your dad has herpes?” “Probably. I don‟t know. Look, I‟ll go get tested with you, okay? It‟s not as scary if we go together, right?” Kyle turned around in his seat. “Yeah, but you‟re such a hand sanitizer freak there‟s no way you‟ve got anything.” “Yeah, well, one gets squeamish about germs when he‟s not sure what in his room is caked in someone else‟s DNA.” Paul held up his hand and winced. “Sorry, Mr. Lynch.” Before Richard could reply, Kyle spoke for them both more bluntly than Richard ever would. “Gross.” “It is pretty gross. But that‟s the thing. You fuck all these strangers, and you know, I don‟t care. That‟s your thing. But you don‟t bother to get to know them,

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don‟t care about their names or histories. You don‟t ask whether they‟ve been tested or if they‟re safe.” Kyle shrugged. “They‟re sexually liberated. You just don‟t like women.” Richard looked at the mirror to see Paul frowning; it looked like this was another conversation they‟d had more than once. Paul took long enough to answer that it was clear to Richard he was trying to stay calm. “It‟s not about men versus women. Women have every right to sleep with whomever they want whenever they want. But for me, I wouldn‟t have unprotected sex with a man I‟d just met.” Paul held up a hand. “And before you start talking about AIDS being a gay problem, don‟t forget that heterosexuals get it too. Everyone‟s at risk. So I‟m just saying that if you want to keep doing what you‟re doing, you need to be careful and get tested. That‟s the trade-off.” Richard took a deep breath, grateful they‟d turned onto his street at last. That Paul was, in fact, gay and not just the subject of Kyle‟s idle teasing finally registered. “I think Paul‟s lack of desire for women has less to do with dislike and more to do with genetics, Kyle. His opinions are as valid, and his observations about the kind of relationships you‟re pursuing ring true. Will you listen to reason for once, kiddo?” Richard wondered how much he should say, how forthcoming it was appropriate to be with not only his son but his son‟s friend. Turning into his driveway, he hit the garage opener and withheld further comment until they‟d parked. He twisted around to face them, his gaze moving from one‟s eyes to the other‟s. “Catherine was young when we met. She probably told you all about my being older and taking horrible advantage of her naïveté, so I‟ll spare you. The point is she was a nice girl with very strong values, high standards, and a clear worldview. It‟s why I settled down finally and why I was immensely grateful a woman like that would be the one to bear my children rather than the confused, insecure women I‟d dated before her.”

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Then again, Catherine‟s strong values and clear worldview hadn‟t held up to everyday adult life. All her morals and standards had done was force Richard to jump through hoops for her. Maybe that old-fashioned stuff had gone out of style for a reason. Kyle was probably thinking the same thing as he rolled his eyes. Richard held up his hand to beg continued patience as he looked for the right words, his gaze rolling up to the Jag‟s low roof. “A lot of young men have a fascination with sex: your hormones are insane, your curiosity is overwhelming, and the pressure from society to be a stud cripples your judgment. When you don‟t yet have the experience to make you suave or the best they‟ve ever had, you choose the ones who‟ll make it easy on you.” Richard looked to Paul then, wanting him to hear this too, to have a father—even if not his own—tell him these things as Richard wished his own had told him. “I didn‟t meet your mother until I was in grad school, and by then I‟d had years to act stupid. If I‟d used that time to understand relationships better instead of just living it up, I‟d have been a better husband. Maybe I could‟ve figured out how to make your mother happy, how to love her like she needed.” Richard sighed. Judging by the look on Kyle‟s face, knowing how to treat women better in future relationships wasn‟t a compelling argument. The surly set of his son‟s mouth exuded resentment. “This isn‟t condemnation, Kyle. It‟s the voice of experience telling you that if you aren‟t careful, you‟ll pick up more from them than a few tricks, and it‟s not worth it. I escaped unscathed, but a lot of my friends didn‟t.” Kyle frowned and then shrugged. “Yeah, okay, Dad.” He threw open the door and got out of the car as if he couldn‟t get away fast enough. Paul smiled faintly and reached out to touch Richard‟s hand. “Thanks. You know, for dinner and the whole restaurant thing. You‟re a good dad.” Then Paul slipped out of the car and followed Kyle, who had let himself into the house.

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Richard watched them go without even opening his door. He reclined his seat and stretched out, dreading what it would take to drum this lesson into Kyle in a way that would last more than a few days. Cutting him off financially was a shortterm solution. At some point, Kyle would find other ways to get money, and he‟d go right back to his bad behavior. He‟d thought if Catherine was the one to raise him, if he just let her have her way, that Kyle would turn out better than he had. Somehow, though, Kyle had inherited her stubbornly closed mind and Richard‟s forceful nature. It wasn‟t a good combination. Paul might prove a valuable balancing influence if Kyle would listen to him. Richard wondered how much of Kyle‟s dismissal of Paul‟s opinions was based on the fact he was gay. The realization that Catherine‟s beliefs—until now uncontested by Richard—might be partially responsible for Kyle‟s attitude toward Paul made him sick. Looking at his phone, Richard gave himself five minutes to decompress. After three, Richard killed the engine and climbed out of the car. As he walked to the kitchen, he shouted, “Who wants to help me cook? Kyle, that means you.” “What? I don‟t know how to cook. Get Paul to do it. He likes cooking.” Paul trailed behind Kyle, looking around the gourmet kitchen with his eyes wide. He stroked the brushed steel. “I do make a mean omelet. But you should cook with your dad. It can‟t be that hard to sear a steak. You can impress women with your cooking prowess.” Kyle folded his arms. “What do you know about women, Paul?” “I know how to keep them from getting knocked up.” Paul flashed a toothy smile. “Oh, fuck you.” “He‟s got you there, kiddo.” Richard grinned and chucked Kyle under the chin gently. “Don‟t look so glum. Here, you can take out your aggression on the tomatoes.”

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Richard opened the enormous, mostly bare refrigerator, withdrew a couple of plump, fresh Romas and put them on the inlaid cutting board beside the sink. Before they could get underway, though, Richard removed his coat and helped Kyle and Paul off with theirs and then set them aside where nothing could splash on them. Richard fired up the oven to preheat as Kyle reluctantly began chopping. Richard removed his cuff links and tie before unbuttoning his dress shirt and adding it to the coat pile. It was more practical to cook in his white cotton undershirt. “Dad, what are you doing?” Kyle gave him a sidelong look that seemed like it should mean something. “Not ruining my three hundred dollar shirt.” He gave Kyle a pointed stare. “You know, since I have to work to pay for my things.” Kyle shifted his glare to Paul and looked back at Richard, raising his brows in the same way he had when he was a kid embarrassed by Richard singing along with the radio or dancing at a barbecue. Richard grumbled under his breath and then turned to Paul. “Am I making the younger generation uncomfortable by having bare arms, or is this a Kyle thing? Also, would you rather sauté chicken or press garlic? Your choice.” “I‟m not uncomfortable. I think you have a right to bare arms.” Paul snickered at himself. “Um, I‟ve never pressed garlic. I think I was twenty before I realized garlic didn‟t come out of shakers.” “Mom never makes me cook.” Kyle crushed the tomatoes trying to pin them down to slice them. Then he looked up in alarm. “Oh shit. Mom. Hey, Paul, do you think your dad gave her herpes?” Paul looked at the floor and shrugged. “I don‟t know how their relationship was. Or what my dad does or doesn‟t have. I don‟t want to think about it. Where‟s the garlic press?”

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“Wait, what?” Richard looked between Paul and Kyle with growing uneasiness, then leaned against the counter as his legs went weak. “Was anyone ever going to tell me about it?” “You know, she meets guys sometimes. Though it did get kinda serious since Paul and his dad moved in.” Kyle chopped the tomatoes like he was holding a giant sword. “I dunno, I guess it was four or five years ago. We were seniors in high school.” Paul placed his hand on Richard‟s back, patting lightly. “It didn‟t last too long. I think once she realized he wasn‟t going to marry her and was, well, being Bruce Watkins, she kicked him out.” “And I said we should let Paul stay because he didn‟t do anything wrong and he‟d transferred so many schools and shit already. Plus, he‟s an excellent wingman.” “Oh.” Richard‟s cheeks burned. He couldn‟t remember the last time he‟d felt so foolish, his vulnerabilities so exposed. “Right, it‟s not like I think she sits around wishing we were still together.” With a self-mocking laugh, he shook his head and muttered under his breath, “Five goddamn years ago even.” He found his feet somehow, opened a drawer a foot away, and pulled out the garlic press. He placed it in Paul‟s hand, avoiding the young man‟s worried gaze, and begged off with some incoherent blather about needing to make a phone call. He felt disoriented by the realization the past decade of his life had been wasted waiting on a wife who never intended to come home. Paul set the press on the counter and wrapped his arms tight around Richard before he could go. “It‟s okay, man. She came to her senses pretty quick.” “Oh God, what am I seeing here? Paul, are you hitting on my dad?” “No, I‟m responding to the human reaction your dad is having to the load you dumped on him.” Paul gave Richard a manly pat on the back. “Sorry, I didn‟t realize you didn‟t know.”

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Kyle dropped the knife on the board. “What? It‟s not like they were on the verge of getting back together. And he said he was a wild man before. Anyway, it wasn‟t that your dad was cheating on her. I think she checked his bank account.” Paul pushed the garlic press toward Kyle. “Dude, shut up and press some garlic. Ponder on the words „human reaction‟ and think about what they mean to people with feelings.” “Whatever, Dad doesn‟t get hurt. He‟s a crusher. He doesn‟t cry; he makes people cry.” Richard stiffened at Kyle‟s words, realizing he needed to hold it together for his kid. It was difficult to get his bearings with Paul‟s arms around him. Richard couldn‟t remember the last time someone hugged him for longer than a peremptory two-second greeting. “Your mother actually did talk about getting back together, Kyle, but she told me she needed some time to sort out her feelings. Obviously she was painting me a very selective picture of reality.” Returning Paul‟s hug briefly, Richard disengaged and started pressing the garlic himself. “Anyway, there‟s fresh Italian bread in the breadbox, if you want to get that out. We‟ll make some crusty bruschetta or something to go with the chicken I‟ll get around to making any minute, and then you can get back to whoring.” “Whoring? I‟m not a whore. No one‟s ever paid me. Hm, do you think they would? They really should.” Paul peered around and then nabbed the bread from the breadbox. He selected a knife and started slicing the bread. “So, how did you learn to cook? Did you always know how? Watch some Food Network?” Kyle walked around to the bar and dropped onto a stool. “Paul, can you drive? I want more wine.” Paul stiffened and then sighed. “Yeah, that‟s fine. I‟ll drive.”

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It took Richard a few moments to rein in the vehemence of his sentiments before he snapped, “If they‟d pay you, it says more about them than it does about your „mad skills.‟ And I don‟t know what wine you think you‟re drinking, but the wine cellar and my liquor cabinets are locked after your last fateful visit. I didn‟t spend more than most people make in a year on a car so you could have your friend chauffeur your drunken ass around, either.” Richard‟s voice came out more harshly than he intended it, but he didn‟t regret it. Maybe tomorrow when he was less furious, he‟d care, but right now, Kyle was lucky he wasn‟t twice as cruel. Richard‟s gaze softened on Paul. “You aren‟t driving. Anyway, I learned to cook from watching Graham Kerr. The Food Network wasn‟t invented yet, grasshopper. If you‟re not as locked into pointless gender roles as my son here, you can visit again, and I‟ll teach you a few things.” “But…” After Paul and Richard shot Kyle a look, he shut up. “I‟m going to watch TV. Let me know when dinner‟s on.” As soon as Kyle left the room, Paul closed his eyes, and his shoulders relaxed. “Don‟t get me wrong. I love your son like a brother, but sometimes I really want to punch him in the face.” He gave Richard a sidelong glance and grinned. “I understand that‟s how it goes with siblings anyway, and God knows I have plenty of halfsies out there.” Paul sighed and flicked back his golden hair. “Anyway, I‟d like some cooking lessons. I don‟t really do a lot. Just the usual this or that everyone knows. I get so busy writing sometimes that I forget to eat. Then it‟s whatever I can grab quick.” Richard poured olive oil into a small bowl with the chopped tomatoes and crushed garlic, tearing fresh basil into it by hand with such intense focus that it relieved some of his anger. Without a word, he handed Paul a lemon to juice and pulled out a sauté pan to heat olive oil over the stove. When the little busy tasks were in hand, he replayed Paul‟s statements. Such a well-balanced young man coming from such a chaotic home life piqued his interest in a more personal way than most people could if they tried.

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“I seem to remember Kyle telling me about your writing during the brief lapses in conversation where he stops talking about himself and begging me to buy him things. I think maybe I‟ve seen your name in the papers too. What do you write?” “Not biographies, much to my father‟s chagrin.” Paul squeezed the lemon, watching Richard curiously. “Trying my hand at fiction, poking at a novel. Right now I do articles for Rolling Stone, sometimes even Playboy. Turns out no one‟s reading it for the articles. My dad, in spite of being an asshole, knows just about everyone, so it‟s easy to get interviews.” Paul frowned. “It‟s not like I can claim to be tormented by the paps or anything, but you‟ve probably seen my name in the local papers too. They snap pictures every now and then if they think I‟m doing something interesting.” Dropping the lemon rind into the wastebasket, Paul continued, “When I came out to my dad, the next day he held a press conference to announce he had a gay son and was going to advocate for gay rights—not that he ever actually did. He just saw it as a chance to make himself the center of a story, even though it had been excruciating for me to admit to myself, let alone to him. Then I was part of the news item. The press knew my name and my face.” “It makes me sad that your own father would sell you out for publicity. You ever need a dad opinion on something, you call me, okay? I promise not to pull that kind of stunt.” Richard scowled. Even if the jerk hadn‟t at one point been fucking the woman he loved, he‟d have hated him for doing something like that to such a good kid. “Okay, look.” Richard changed gears as he retrieved the chicken breasts from the fridge and returned to the stove. “We want to make certain the oil is hot enough to caramelize the outer layer of meat almost instantly. With flavored oils, the flavor is lost when it starts to break down close to its smoke point. What‟s going on the bread is a robust extra virgin, much more expensive; this is just virgin, still good because you want a higher smoke point than the cheap oils will give you, but not throwing away money.”

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Richard finished cutting the chicken into neat, even slices, ground sea salt and pink peppercorns over them, and arranged them in his pan, his scowl turning to a smile at the satisfying sizzle. “Now, I‟ll finish the bruschetta; you watch the chicken. Turn the pieces over when they‟re golden brown on the bottom. The sear keeps in the moisture, which is important because chicken has to be fully cooked, unlike steak, and tends toward dryness. Got it?” Pleased with his demonstration going smoothly, he settled his arm around Paul‟s shoulders and gave him a quick side-hug. Paul leaned into it, wrapping his arm around Richard‟s waist briefly. Then Paul blushed and scooted around Richard to pick up the spatula. “So you crush people for a living? I‟m pretty sure you‟re not a pro wrestler, so I‟m going to assume that was hyperbolic.” “I‟m in corporate at an import/export/shipping company that‟s been based in Back Bay since—Look, it‟s boring. I sit in an office, make deals, and intimidate people. It‟s pretty dull, but it „brings the Bens‟ as Kyle says. And as you must know, Kyle goes through a lot of Bens.” Richard took a brush from the utensil caddy and started coating the bread slices, carefully measuring the topping onto them and watching Paul from the corner of his eye. “Anyway, I want to thank you for being so understanding earlier. Kyle doesn‟t get it that I‟m a human being with a life apart from his. In his head, I‟m just an ATM who also cooks and dispenses unwanted advice. You‟d think he‟d understand better how I—Never mind. It‟s not really appropriate to burden you, either.” Richard arranged the bread on a baking stone and put it in the oven, setting a timer before he turned back to look at Paul, who was smiling to himself as he watched the chicken. “So do you still think I‟m a good dad?” Paul laughed. “My bar is set extra low, but having seen other dads, I think you‟re pretty cool.” He flipped the chicken, doing each piece in turn. “Kyle really

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admires you, though. He wants to be just like you someday, only, as he would say, „way richer.‟” Paul looked up at Richard. “Sometimes I worry I‟m enabling him, but it‟s like with my dad—when I tried tough love, he spiraled into something way worse. I don‟t think he means to do it; some people just can‟t do it on their own.” Paul‟s eyes were too old for his young face. Richard stared at him for a moment, then moved closer and put an arm around his shoulders. He knocked his head against Paul‟s in as close to a show of fatherly affection as he could get, letting himself imagine for a moment that this was his son, that he‟d somehow miraculously managed to raise a kid who‟d want to hang out with him and who‟d realize he wasn‟t a machine without making him feel weak about it. Then the moment passed, and he pulled away to get the plates out of the far cabinet and set the little four-seat table in the breakfast nook. “Listen, Paul,” Richard said as he laid the flatware out, his gaze moving between what his hands were doing and Paul‟s earnest chicken flipping. “I know you have an inadequate support system if Kyle is your best friend and your dad is…your dad. I‟m officially adopting you. I can‟t say I wish you were my son instead without sounding like a real asshole, and I know it‟s because I‟m frustrated, so I won‟t say it, but I‟m thinking it. Just trust me—someone appreciates what a good kid you are, okay?” Paul blushed, ducking his head so his hair fell in his face. “I‟m a little old for adopting. But I‟m going to show up and bother you if you invite me over. I‟m like a vampire. Once you‟ve invited me in, you can‟t uninvite me.” The younger man laughed and pulled the pan from the stove. “I promise not to sneak in at night and bite you, though. I‟m not much of a biter. And I definitely don‟t sparkle. And I love garlic. And the sun. So really, that was a bad comparison other than the door thing.” Kyle announced his presence with stomping. “How long does it take to make bread with stuff on it anyway?”

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Richard gave Paul a look eloquent of despair and then turned to his son with a gruff smile. “You‟re just in time, princess. Would you like to sit at the head of the table and be waited upon hand and foot by the imaginary servants you seem to think work here?” “Dad.” “Yeah, I know, I know. Just zip it for a minute, or I‟ll forget where your dinner is supposed to go, and it‟ll end up in the garbage disposal. Why don‟t you get everyone a glass of water?” Richard gritted his teeth and retrieved the bruschetta from the oven. The temptation to do what he‟d said almost got the better of him as he looked over at his son‟s impatient, entitled expression. He was so much like his mother sometimes that it was painful, especially in the wake of Richard‟s belated realization about exactly which lifestyle she wanted freedom and a lot of his money to explore. Richard took a deep breath and carried the baking stone to the table, placing it on a trivet and adjusting it before removing the oven mitts. Looking back into the kitchen, he saw Kyle actually doing as he was told, and his frustration ebbed, replaced by a glow in his stomach. Kyle was a good kid, really; he was just at such a confusing age. Taking his seat, Richard doled out the slices of bread to each plate as he waited for Paul to serve the chicken and Kyle to bring their drinks. There was still hope, Richard thought. He had some time. He could still make a difference in their lives.

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Chapter Two The day after their eventful dinner, Richard tried to reach Kyle to ask about his doctor visit. When Kyle didn‟t answer, he tried not to take it personally; Kyle was busy with school and his social life. He tried again the next day. After that, Richard quit trying. If Kyle didn‟t want to talk to him, there wasn‟t much he could do about it, and work was sucking the life out of him. Maybe to Kyle, Richard‟s job was all about crushing people, but the part Richard had always left out was that those people were trying to crush him back. Even Richard didn‟t cut the ultimate deal every day, and when he didn‟t, he heard about it. Being almost at the top wasn‟t the same as being actually at the top. It occurred to Richard to give Paul a ring to follow up with things; they‟d exchanged numbers before Paul had left. Still, if his son didn‟t want to hear from him, he couldn‟t really imagine Paul would either. As much as he‟d liked the young man, he didn‟t want to be that dad. Kyle‟s embarrassment with him was great enough without Richard trying to make friends with Kyle‟s friends. By the start of his lunch hour on the fourth day, though, Richard‟s patience was exhausted by his worry, and he called Kyle again, leaving another frustrated voice mail. After the stationary bike, the heavy bag, and an intense round of crunches, he managed to forget about the situation and get on with his afternoon. Then when Richard pulled his car into the empty garage and went inside his empty house just after seven, it hit him all over again. Having lost his appetite, Richard poured himself a glass of wine and changed into pajamas. He curled up in the corner of the big leather sofa in the living room

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and turned on the TV to relieve the oppressive silence. Then, unable to stop himself, he grabbed his phone and dialed Paul, praying he‟d answer. It went to voice mail. “Hi, Paul, this is Richard Lynch, Kyle‟s father. How are you? I hope you don‟t mind me bothering you, but Kyle‟s uh…not returning my calls. I know you‟re not his keeper, but I‟d really appreciate it if you‟d get back to—” A loud knock at the door reverberated through the walls, and Richard jumped and hung up on accident. Cursing under his breath, he went to answer the door, redialing Paul as he went to apologize for hanging up on him. He‟d just entered the foyer when he realized there was ringing on the other side. His confusion lasted until he peeked through the peephole and saw Paul on his doorstep. Startled and embarrassed, Richard terminated the call and opened the door. “Hey, Paul. What are you doing here?” “Oh, um, you said I could come by whenever.” Paul held up in one hand a somewhat crumpled cardboard box reading PIZZA over the top and a six-pack of beer in the other. A mountain bike was propped against the porch wall. His helmet sat on the seat. Paul was wet from head to toe. He wore a pair of turquoise Lycra bike shorts and a tight black top with turquoise sleeves. He‟d replaced his bike helmet with a black baseball cap. “You‟re already dressed for bed. Shit, I thought it would only take a couple hours to get here. Look, if it‟s a bad time, I can, you know, leave this with you and head back.” Richard stared, dumbfounded, for the better part of a minute. Paul‟s careless good looks struck him anew, and he found his gaze drawn to a single bead of sweat coursing down the side of the blond‟s angular cheek. Standing next to his son, Paul looked like a boy, but here alone with Richard… Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and stepped aside to gesture Paul in. “It‟s only a bit after seven. I just…” Richard trailed off, hating that he‟d been caught out like this. Standing next to such a vibrant specimen of virile youth, he

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wanted to melt into the marble floor, humiliated at what an old man he‟d let himself become. Taking the box of pizza, Richard led the way to the kitchen, his stomach grumbling audibly. “As you probably just heard, I haven‟t eaten dinner yet. I was trying to reach you, actually, so this is good.” Putting the box on the counter, Richard grabbed two plates and some paper towels. When he looked up to find Paul so near he could smell his sweat, the airy room seemed suddenly cramped, and Richard realized on a much deeper level than before that Paul was not a child. Richard placed two slices of pizza on each plate and pushed Paul‟s plate toward him across the counter, trying to keep some space between them. “Yeah, I saw it was you calling and figured there wasn‟t much point in answering.” Paul grinned and took a seat at the counter. “Sorry the beer‟s kind of shit. And the pizza. There weren‟t a lot of options on the way.” Paul slipped his slender phone from a flap in his pants. He poked the screen to show Richard the Google map he‟d designed with his path. “I figured I could cook you something, but after a couple of hours of picking up road dust, it wasn‟t going to be very good.” The younger man folded the pizza slice and took a quick bite. Turning his attention on the beer, he opened two bottles, setting one before Richard. He gulped his and then winced as he wiped his mouth. “Okay, at the risk of seeming unmanly, I‟m going to grab some water.” So caught up had he been in watching Paul, Richard took a moment to realize he hadn‟t even tasted his pizza or beer yet. He sampled each and couldn‟t help smiling in gratitude. Sometimes junk-food indulgence was what a man needed. The strange compulsion to stare he could do without. Rounding the corner, Paul seemed to notice the way Richard was looking at him. “You want me to grab a towel? I hate to drip all over your stuff.” As Paul spoke, he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the tap. “Brought water with me, but I‟ll need a refill before I head out later.”

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“Don‟t worry about dripping on things. We can eat by the pool. I could use some fresh air.” Without waiting for Paul to answer, Richard grabbed their meal and started for the back door. “Yeah, sorry. I probably stink too.” Paul followed Richard out with a big glass of water in one hand and the beer in the other. “Actually, I can remedy that.” Paul peeled off his shirt and hat, tossed them on a lounger, and then dived into the pool. Richard stared, watching the way shadows and light under the water rippled over Paul‟s tanned skin as he swam from one end to the other. Water sluiced down Paul‟s well-built chest as he ascended the steps from the pool. Now his thoroughly soaked Lycra pants outlined his package with such detail that he may as well have been naked. Richard forced his gaze up to Paul‟s face, grateful the man was brushing water from his eyes, so he wouldn‟t have caught Richard staring at him. Paul headed to the table where Richard was sitting and plopped down across from him. “Man, that felt good.” Paul popped open another beer and had a swig, then devoured a slice of pizza. Paul grinned and folded another slice. “You‟re not the only one who was ready for dinner. So what were you calling about?” It took Richard a moment to process the question, and he had to focus on his plate to do it. Careful to avoid staring again, he took a bite, chewed it thoroughly, and swallowed before he replied. “Kyle hasn‟t spoken to me since we had dinner that night, and I‟ve been worried. Did he get tested?” “He has an appointment for next week. I‟m going too. He‟s made appointments but squirmed out of them, so I‟m going to strong-arm him. Steal his keys the night before so he can‟t escape.” Paul took another swig of beer. Richard nodded and frowned in thought. He should be the one to force Kyle to the doctor, not Paul. But obviously Richard had very little say in what Kyle did, and it sounded like Paul had matters well in hand. After a few more bites, he asked, “So why did you bike two hours to bring me pizza?”

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“I like biking and I like you, so I thought I‟d drop by.” Paul leaned back, revealing a long scar that stretched from midway on his abdomen to behind his back. Then he held out his right leg to show more scars on his knee. “After being chauffeured by my dad and his friends, I‟m not big on cars. Besides, they pollute. And no offense, but I hate Kyle‟s car. I feel like a douche even riding in it.” “Oh God, I know, and it‟s fire-engine red too.” Richard laughed and shook his head. “I know my car isn‟t exactly humble, but it‟s a classic. I asked him about it, and he said he was „peacocking,‟ whatever the hell that is. In my—” Richard turned red and stopped abruptly. “Oh God, I‟m sorry, Paul. I was about to launch into an „in my day‟ speech, and you don‟t deserve that.” Paul gave Richard a sly smile. “I‟m pretty into classics myself.” The comment combined with the smile caught Richard‟s attention, but he didn‟t know how to respond, so he changed the subject. “Thanks for making him go to the clinic. He wouldn‟t want me there. The only time he wants to spend with me ends in me cosigning for something.” Rubbing the scar on his abdomen, Paul said, “Kyle‟s probably clean, but I think it‟s a good wake-up call. I wish he‟d spend more time with you. Cathy‟s a little hyper; I think it rubbed off on him.” “If by hyper you mean high-maintenance, then you‟re probably right. I want to say they weren‟t always, but I‟m not sure I‟d be telling the truth. I did everything I could to spoil them.” Richard gestured to the expansive lawn and the wooded acreage. Paul looked up and around, taking in the trees. “This is a nice place. Quiet. Maybe too quiet if you‟re getting ready for bed at seven.” Richard downed half his beer and ran his tongue over his upper teeth as he considered how much truth he wanted to tell. The look on Paul‟s face was open and interested, so he took the gamble. “I don‟t always get ready for bed at seven, okay? I was having a rough day at the office with some people trying to stab me in the back over a deal I helped broker

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recently. I wanted to talk to Kyle, to hear he was okay so I could at least quit worrying and focus on work, but”—Richard finished off his beer—“I come home to an empty house every night. To be honest, until I heard about your father and her, I still held out hope Catherine would come back. “I wanted to keep the house as she left it so she would when she was ready. I willfully participated in my own emotional and financial defrauding. Don‟t tell Kyle any of this. He doesn‟t need to know how stupid I let her make me.” Richard hesitated, a pained look on his face, and then reached for Paul‟s hand, squeezing it as if he could somehow impart the gravity to him by osmosis. “Oh man. You don‟t get a hand squeeze for that. You get a hug.” Paul‟s face scrunched up in concern as he stood and pulled Richard up to give him a very damp hug. He rested his chin on Richard‟s shoulder and didn‟t make any move to let go. Richard thought maybe he should pull away, but Paul seemed to want the hug as much as he did. As Paul spoke, Richard felt his voice reverberating through his chest. “I don‟t know if it‟ll make you feel any better, but that look I saw on your face last night… Every guy gets that look, even exes who have given up. It‟s like realizing someone you once cared about, who was so precious, let someone piss on her. But you know what? That‟s on her. “And Cathy? I don‟t know, man. I can‟t say she was lying to you, because she‟s kinda flaky. She might‟ve believed it at the time. When she speaks of you, it‟s with admiration. It doesn‟t make sense how people can like…respect you and love you and then stab you right through the heart.” Paul pulled away to look Richard in the eyes. “People are kinda shitty. But you gotta love ‟em anyway, or you end up all twisted and bitter. And them? They won‟t care you‟re hurt or you‟re angry. They go on doing their shit, still loving you in their way. It‟s all they‟ve got. I think she gave you her best, man. Maybe her best isn‟t great. You deserve better than pj‟s at seven.”

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Richard raised an eyebrow. “Well, when you‟re right, you‟re right.” As he stepped back to sink into his seat, Richard realized his silk pj‟s were plastered down his front and covered in chlorinated water that would soon stain. After a few moments trying to dry them with a paper towel, he gave up with a rueful chuckle. “Sorry about the water. I can get you new pj‟s.” Paul sat by the pool, dropped his feet in, and then patted the spot next to him. Richard waved off the offer, pulled up the legs of his PJ bottoms to his knees, and joined Paul at poolside with his feet in the water. “You sound like you‟ve had more than your fair share of shitty people not loving you enough.” Richard furrowed his brow. “Is that too personal? Kyle‟s always telling me I‟m too nosy. If you‟d rather swim or something, I can go back inside and watch the DVR.” “I‟ve not yet had the privilege of being in love, but I see a lot of shit. And I guess I came to some of these realizations over my dad. I mean, at this point I probably seem like the long-suffering son, and maybe I am. But I tried running away. I tried changing him, begging him to be different, but he‟s who he is.” Paul kicked the water until it splashed up in light sprays. “I‟ve comforted husbands, wives, kids, half siblings, and now Kyle‟s castoffs. “People aren‟t going to change. It‟s in their nature. I‟ve been on the periphery, watching all of the backstabbing and crazy shit go down. And you know, it‟s either I love my dad as he is, or I kick him out of my life. It wouldn‟t make a huge difference to him, so I have to do it for me.” Paul cracked his neck. “I‟m not sure if I even can fall in love. I don‟t know if I could trust someone enough after all I‟ve seen. Even when I‟ve tried it, I‟m either waiting for the other shoe to drop, or dealing with the aftermath of the shoe dropping.” Richard wrapped his arm around the young man‟s shoulders, gave him a squeeze, then exhaled heavily.

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“I only divorced her because I didn‟t want Kyle to grow up thinking it was better to be walked over than to be alone. I needed to be strong for him. You know, while he was growing up, I thought, Someday Kyle will be old enough to see how much it cost me to give him that strength, but now I know I‟ll be in the grave before he hits that point of maturity. Sad story, true story.” Pulling his arm away so he could fold them both over his chest, Richard stared at the clear water rippling around his feet. “Kyle doesn‟t understand why I never go out, why I didn‟t move on, when to him it was so obvious right from the start his mother had. The truth is I couldn‟t give up hope the girl I fell for was still in there somewhere. But the hurt was worth it for those few good years, Paul. Don‟t give up on it altogether.” “Yeah, well, we‟ll see. Most people aren‟t worth all of the hurt.” Paul‟s jaw tightened for a moment, and then he sighed. He bumped his shoulder with Richard‟s. “I don‟t get why Kyle doesn‟t hang out with you more. I guess it‟s the fathers and sons thing, but I think you‟re cool.” Slipping into the water, Paul reached for Richard. “Come on in. I‟ve already ruined your pj‟s. May as well go wild.” Paul was so handsome looking up at him, so at home in the water, so comfortable in his youth and beauty, that Richard felt a pang of self-consciousness. “I… All right.” He sucked in a quick deep breath, took off his button-down top, and lowered himself into the pool beside Paul. Laughing at himself as much as the situation, he asked, “Do you really think I‟m cool?” “Yeah, I do. You‟re just you. And you follow up your beliefs with action. That‟s pretty rare.” Paul‟s gaze lingered on Richard‟s chest. He blushed when Richard caught him looking. “A hard man is good to find.” Paul cleared his throat. “I mean, a good man is hard to find.”

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Richard‟s tongue flicked over his lips. He was already pressed against the wall, so he couldn‟t back away. Realizing the ridiculousness of assuming it was anything more than idle flirting, he swallowed his gay panic and laughed at the joke. “I can‟t remember the last time someone flirted with me, even in jest.” Richard lifted his wet hands and, with an awkward grin, flicked water at Paul‟s face. “You don‟t watch out, and Kyle will come after you for making me think I‟m not dead yet.” Paul ducked his head. “I‟m sorry. It just came out. I can‟t even imagine what Kyle would say. But I could take him. He doesn‟t work out enough.” Standing like a fighter, Paul shadowboxed, splashing water around. “The look on his face would be priceless, though.” Richard could imagine. He laughed and adopted a similar pose to Paul, faking and dodging, lifting his fists to bump Paul‟s. “So Kyle‟s a wuss, huh? He gets that from Cathy. She‟d rather cut carbs or something than do crunches.” Richard shook his head and danced clumsily around Paul, the water hindering his usually deft footwork and almost tripping him. Grinning at the effort, he said, “Everything‟s always come so easy to that boy. Nice face, tall, never had to wear dorky clothes or get orthodontics. Smart enough to coast. If it takes effort, he doesn‟t want it. Shame. I want to pretend it‟s not my fault, but I spoiled him rotten, and that‟s on me. It would serve him right if— “Wait, does he know you‟re here?” Richard straightened, standing stock-still as he stared at Paul with dread. “No. I mean, I don‟t usually check in with him before I go visit a friend.” Paul chewed his lip. “Is that bad?” One corner of Richard‟s mouth quirked up, and his eyes twinkled. “He can‟t be bothered to return my phone calls. I don‟t think he deserves to know what I‟m doing. What do you think?” Laughing with an edge of bitterness, he splashed Paul, feeling more playful by the moment.

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“So what are you doing? Flirting with his roommate?” Paul splashed him back and grinned impishly. “Fending off the advances of a young, impetuous gentleman?” “And enjoying myself, surprisingly enough. I‟m blaming the beer.” Richard turned his face away from the splashing, slapping the water with both hands in Paul‟s direction as he tried to avoid getting chlorine in his eyes. “Is this what having fun feels like? I‟d forgotten.” “Tsunami!” Paul skimmed his hand over the water, creating a big wave. He laughed as the water splashed over Richard. “Yeah, this is what fun feels like. Do you ride? Maybe I can show you some more fun on a bike…and that sounded kind of dirty, sorry.” “How was that dirty? Wait, no, don‟t tell me. I don‟t need to know.” Richard snorted and shook the water from his short, graying hair. “I do the stationary every other day, and when I get the chance, I take my real bike out for a spin, but I haven‟t had much occasion to do that in recent years.” “Years? Oh we‟ve got to get you out of here. How about Saturday morning? We can get some good riding in before it gets too hot. I‟m assuming you‟re used to getting up early if you‟re in bed by seven.” Paul held up his hands. “I know, I know, you weren‟t going to bed yet.” Mashing his lips together in a nervous line, Richard sized Paul up, gauging his seriousness. “Would you really like to hang out again sometime?” “Yeah, you‟re fun. Plus maybe when we get back you can give me a cooking lesson over lunch.” A heady flush of pleasure heated Richard‟s face. “That would be wonderful, Paul. I haven‟t had anything but work to do on a Saturday in…well, a long time. I can‟t even feel guilty I don‟t want to take Kyle along, because he hates biking. “If he doesn‟t ask, don‟t tell him. If he knows ahead of time, he‟ll try to tag along, and he‟ll complain the whole outing.” Richard lowered his head then with the first prickling of shame, one hand lifting to scrub at his face. “I shouldn‟t be selfish, though. And I shouldn‟t be poaching his friend, should I?”

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“Oh, I wasn‟t going to tell him.” Paul leaned in. “I kinda wanted you to myself.” Paul dunked his head under the water so it would slick his hair back again. “And you‟re not poaching his friend. I‟m not going to stop being his friend. He won‟t be up and going on a Saturday before three anyway.” “You make a valid point.” Richard smiled, an easy, happy feeling enveloping him as he looked at his friend—his friend too now, rather than merely Kyle‟s. “I definitely need someone who can keep up with me. No one my age seems interested in bike trips.” Giving Paul a last splash, he heaved himself out of the pool. “And I think you need an older man in your life. If you don‟t, don‟t tell me. I like to feel needed.” “I don‟t think you‟re as old as you act.” Paul nimbly emerged from the pool and stretched. “So did you really never date? How did you keep the women off you?” Richard perked a brow at Paul. “I really never dated. I was in love. It wouldn‟t have been fair to anyone for me to…you know? And women never attacked me like wild dogs the way you‟re making it sound. They‟d flirt or whatever, but I‟d never follow up on it. When they got more aggressive with their interest, I‟d let them know I was hung up on someone else.” Put like that, it sounded sad, and Richard shrugged and looked over at Paul. “It was a mistake, wasn‟t it?” “If you were hung up on someone else and you were being honest, then that‟s the kindest you could‟ve been to them.” Paul squeezed the water from his hair. “If you came to the bar where Kyle and I go, though, you‟d probably need a bat.” Richard laughed at the idea. “You must be beating them off too, a gorgeous boy like you.” Richard leaned in to nudge Paul and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “I smell like money to discerning feminine noses. Right now, though… “If Cathy showed here naked and looking like the day we met, I still wouldn‟t sleep with her knowing she‟s betrayed me like that. And, it‟s not just me. She‟s betrayed everything she used to stand for, everything that made her different. I had to change my life to be „worthy‟ of her love, but she seemed so confident, so sure of

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what she was holding out for… I wanted so many things I thought that I shouldn‟t. I thought „this woman could be enough for you forever,‟ and loving her did save me. When I saw how the nineties played out, I was glad I never—” Richard shook his head and looked away from Paul, suddenly aware of where his thoughts were going. He laughed softly to defuse the moment and wrinkled his nose. “So, it‟s time for Papa Bear to move on to a new bowl of oatmeal.” Paul‟s lips twitched and he nodded, then pressed his lips together, then burst out in laughter. “Papa Bear, huh? I thought you straight boys called it a honey pot.” The words made Paul wrinkle his nose and shake his head too. “Ick, ick, ick, I don‟t want to think about Cathy‟s bits. Argh, image out of my head.” “Well, I could tell you to think about my bits instead, but I think that would violate the Geneva Conventions. I‟m afraid the danger of hanging out with people old enough to be your parents is that you occasionally have to picture old-people sex. Sorry, kiddo.” Richard laughed and gave Paul‟s thigh a smack made twice as loud by the waterlogged Lycra shorts. “Quick, think about batting averages. Wait, that‟s to delay orgasm. Quick, imagine… I don‟t know what gay boys imagine these days. You‟re on your own.” “Sometimes gay boys think about Papa Bear dicks.” Paul pressed his lips together and then peered around until he found his shirt. “But you‟re not really a bear. More of a daddy. Bears are hairy, and you‟re not like…woolly. And a lot of them are, you know, burly. Which you aren‟t.” “I‟m a—Wait, what?” Richard furrowed his brow. “I probably shouldn‟t ask, should I? Not that your jargon isn‟t fascinating, but I have the feeling if I figure out my place in your fabulous world, I‟ll be deeply disappointed.” Laughing and rising to his feet, he tugged his waistband to keep the wet silk from sticking and sliding. Richard picked up his shirt from where he‟d left it and headed back to the patio table to crack open another beer.

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“Don‟t tell Kyle, but I always comforted myself with the idea I could switch teams to avoid the mistrust-of-women issue, and if you destroy my fall-back plan, I may have to kill myself.” Paul dropped back into his seat and stared at Richard wide-eyed. “Really? I mean, did you ever think about it? Like, really? No, you‟re just saying that. All straight guys say that when they‟re cranky with women.” Looking down at his hands where he‟d wadded up his shirt, Paul said, “But you‟d kill if you did. You‟re a really attractive man. I guess you forgot that because you‟re so walled off, but it‟s true.” “Pretty boy, if you call going without for a decade merely „cranky with‟ women, then you have no concept of time.” Richard snorted and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, embarrassed to be having this conversation. Still, he needed to be honest with Paul; he could understand, maybe, if anyone could. “It is a joke, I admit, because the idea of me ever dating again is comical, but I…you know, I thought about it. Even before finding out Catherine was never coming back.” Richard‟s expression of guarded disdain softened as he scooted his chair closer to Paul and took another swig. “Thank you for not laughing in my face, by the way. I know Kyle would.” “Kyle would be horrified, not because of the gay, but because you‟re his dad. As a rule, sons don‟t like thinking about their dads‟ sex lives.” Paul scooted closer too and grabbed a beer. “It‟s not just about where you put your dick. You should be interested in the other dick.” Paul tilted his head. “Do you think about kissing other men? Or touching them? Would it be weird for you to feel a bit of scruff against your chin when you‟re kissing? What kind of men are you attracted to?” “Oh God, I don‟t know.” Richard flushed—definitely not a blush; Richard did not blush—and cleared his throat. The questions did have answers, complicated ones he couldn‟t yet give because he‟d never fully processed them. “Why does it matter? I guess Robert Redford was a bit dreamy, wasn‟t he?”

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“Robert Redford‟s blond,” Paul said after a long silence after he had a few more swigs of beer. “So‟s Catherine. Maybe I had a type. Anyway, looking back… It‟s like I wanted to find my Sundance Kid, and if I had someone like that, it wouldn‟t seem strange to kiss or touch them. When you‟re that close, affection is natural, isn‟t it? It‟s not just fucking. It‟s something else entirely. Maybe it isn‟t just about body parts.” Flustered, Richard clammed up and drank some more beer before stuffing some lukewarm pizza in his mouth to give him an excuse not to talk. Paul looked at the horizon. The sun had dropped, and they were in shadow now. Richard‟s cautious sideways glances weren‟t enough to make out Paul‟s expression. “After all of the time you‟ve spent waiting already, a little while longer isn‟t a big deal. Are you looking for someone your age, or would you care? A younger person could keep up with you better.” “Oh, I don‟t care. It‟s a pipe dream, Paul.” Richard gave up on the covert peeks and turned to gaze at him, his brain trying to wrap around what he thought was going on beneath the surface. It seemed impossible that someone like Paul would be interested in him. Paul didn‟t need Richard‟s money, and with that face and that body, he could have anyone he wanted. “I want someone who needs me in a way that doesn‟t leave me empty.” Richard laughed under his breath. “Someone with a sneaky sense of humor who‟d escape with me to Bolivia with the law on our tail.” Paul looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “I can‟t imagine anyone not going to Bolivia or anywhere else with you if you asked. There are plenty of adventurous blonds, male and female. It‟s finding one you can trust that‟s problematic.” After polishing off his beer, Paul set the bottle on the table. “You‟re not the kind of guy who fucks around, are you?”

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“I outgrew that foolishness a long time ago.” Richard gave him a wan smile. “I guess I thought Catherine would too. When she started cheating, we talked about it, about her curiosities and needs, and it hurt, but I wanted to give her everything, every opportunity. I gave her as long as I could—years, Paul; until Kyle got old enough to wonder what was going on—before I had to end it. Even after the divorce, she kept saying she missed me, missed what we‟d had, that she‟d figure it out and come home. That she still hasn‟t guts me in ways I can‟t give voice to. I would never put someone else through that. Never.” Struggling against an unpredictable surge of confused feelings, he inhaled deeply and stretched, trying to keep the tension in his muscles at a bearable level. “I want someone to pour all this love into, to give my life meaning. People said having a kid would do that, but that was a serious case of misguided biological conditioning on the part of my advisors.” Paul laughed. “Well, I‟m sure Kyle will do you proud eventually. You have a lot of love to give. There are lots of takers in this world. It‟s hard to find someone who wants to give back.” Paul stared at Richard, and maybe Richard was projecting his longing on Paul, but it still made his breath catch. He stared at the younger man, watching his lips move as he continued, as if reading them would make the implications clearer. “But even I know it takes time to establish trust. You don‟t want to give to the wrong person and then get your heart broken. It hurts too much when you‟re so far out on a limb.” Paul pulled on his shirt, breaking the spell and causing Richard to look away guiltily. “Anyway, I should probably hop on the bike if I want to get home before the drunks start ruling the road.” “Oh, damn it.” Richard looked back at Paul, shamefaced. “It didn‟t even occur to me you might need a ride, or I‟d have cut myself off an hour ago. You can stay the night if you need to.” Rubbing his temples with his fingertips, Richard stared at the rippling surface of the pool, wishing he and Paul were back there again, splashing each other and being foolish instead of swimming in much deeper emotional waters.

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“Actually, if you‟re okay with it… I probably should‟ve cut myself off too. The only thing worse than drunk drivers on the road is a drunken cyclist. And all of that pizza. Not my finest moment.” Paul cracked his back, his muscles rippling under tanned skin. “I promise I‟m not like my dad. You can have me over for the night without me trying to move my stuff in. I‟ll take off when you leave for work. I can ride in the morning air.” “That works for me.” Richard smiled in agreement, glad someone at least would rather stay over one night here than end up a splatter on the road. “I keep things ready for Kyle in case he ever needs to stay, but he always manages not to. He‟d rather take a cab all the way back to the city than spend the night. I‟ll help you settle in. C‟mon.” Richard showed him inside and paused in the living room to turn off the TV before heading to the stairs. He couldn‟t remember the last time he‟d led someone up the graceful staircase to the bedrooms, but he‟d pictured it a few times in fantasy, and none of those imaginings involved his son‟s best friend. He snorted under his breath and continued down the hallway to the door next to Kyle‟s. Gesturing and opening the door, Richard said, “This one shares a bathroom with Kyle‟s with a dressing-room-slash-closet on either side of it. All the stuff you might need is in there somewhere. Feel free to look around; you won‟t be disturbing anything.” Then Richard turned to point at the heavy oak double doors at the far end of the hall. “Master bedroom, obviously. If you need anything, poke me. I‟m a light sleeper and therefore zen about being awakened.” “Awesome.” Paul stepped into the bedroom, looked around, and smiled. “I‟ll probably pass out once the lights are out. Big day and all.” “We‟re still on for Saturday, right?” Trying to contain the neediness, Richard added hastily, “It‟s okay if you changed your mind.” “Oh no, Butch. You‟re not getting out of it. Not after you said you need adventure in your life.” Paul looked around and then back at Richard. He pulled his

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shirt off, tossed it on a chair sitting by the window, and headed to the bathroom. “I promise I‟ll brush my teeth and everything. Night, Butch.” “Night.” Richard lingered in the doorway, trying to control the lonely expression on his face as he watched Paul disappear through the doorway at the back of the room. Then his sense of propriety hit him like a rubber band pulled too far. Blinking with disorientation, he headed to his room to take a shower and go to bed, wondering what had possessed him to speak so frankly to someone he barely knew. One thing he did know: Saturday would be interesting.

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Chapter Three Saturday morning, Richard rose just as dawn was breaking and readied himself for the day physically; the mental and emotional readiness was harder to come by. Since the conversation he had with Paul over pizza and beer, Richard had been questioning himself as to why he‟d made such a confession, let alone to his son‟s roommate. So much he‟d said had been buried so deep inside him he‟d barely known it was there. Sure, he‟d thought about switching teams. It was Boston, after all, gaymarriage capital of the USA, and he‟d been asked more than once in the long, visibly celibate years if he was keeping a male lover secret. Richard was sure most of his colleagues thought he was in the closet between his meticulous grooming habits and consistent rejection of friendly female advances. No one had believed he was that hung up on an ex-wife who didn‟t seem extraordinary to anyone but Richard. As he shaved, he looked at himself in the mirror, taking stock of his appearance, wondering how Paul saw him. He allowed himself a brief thought as to what people might think of him spending so much time alone with a handsome young gay man. Would anyone but Kyle even care? Was there any other reason not to entertain the possibility? An hour later, dressed but far from ready, Richard picked up his phone and dialed Paul to make sure they were still on. “Hello? Hello, Dad, why are you calling my friend Paul?” Before Richard could react, Paul was giggling. “I‟m sorry. That was evil. I do a pretty good Kyle on the phone though, don‟t I?”

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“It would serve you right if you gave an old man a heart attack.” Richard grinned and headed down to the kitchen to pack snacks for the road. “So we‟re still on, right? I‟m going to feel stupid standing around in these clothes otherwise. I thought maybe you might like to get out of the city, so I‟m hereby offering my gigantic trunk for bike storage and transport.” “Of course we‟re still on. You‟re not getting out of it. I mean, unless you had a heart attack. Then you‟ll get out of it temporarily. Anyway, there‟s this place about an hour away that‟s supposed to have a gorgeous view. If you don‟t mind picking me up, we could go there.” “Course I don‟t mind.” Richard washed the cobwebs from his water bottle, holding his phone to his ear pinched between shoulder and skull. “I‟ll be there in no time. This early on a Saturday morning there shouldn‟t be much traffic. Let me get some food stowed in my backpack, and I‟ll hit the road.” Richard paused, eyeing his fridge. “You good with breakfast in the car?” “You‟re bringing me breakfast? You know, you could meet me at the Starbucks on the corner, and I‟ll pick up some scones or something.” “Perfect. You are a very thoughtful young man. Corner Starbucks then. I like the pumpkin scones if they have them.” Richard grinned as he finished putting things in order and headed out to the garage. It felt strange to be going somewhere in athletic shoes and snug-fitting sportswear after so long never exerting himself anywhere but in a gym, but it was good too. Paul had been right; he did need this adventure. “Okay, starting my car…” Richard held out the phone so Paul could hear the engine roar to life before returning the phone to his ear. The sound brought with it a sudden rush of energy and excitement. “You should have enough time to get our order before I show. Oh, and Paul? I hope you‟re prepared to go all day, because I‟m not driving you home until I‟m ready to fall over.”

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“I can go all day and all night, old man. The trail takes a few hours, and there are some hills, so it‟ll be a good ride. You‟d better be ready, though, because I‟m not carrying you back. Okay, I‟m out. See you in a few, Butch.” Richard laughed as he put his phone aside and drove through the deserted streets of his quiet neighborhood. Trying to keep his nerves under control, he sang along with the classic-rock radio at the top of his lungs until he pulled up in front of the coffee shop. Paul was standing out front, looking cooler than anyone had a right to be, dressed in skintight bicycle gear that left zero to the imagination. He held a Starbucks bag, and his bike was propped beside him. More than one of the early birds congregated around their a.m. mecca were giving Paul lingering looks. Snickering under his breath, Richard rolled down the passenger window as he cruised up and gave him a teasing eyebrow waggle. “Hey, baby, you wanna go for a ride?” “Me love you long time. Five dollah, sucky, sucky.” Paul laughed. Richard popped the trunk, and Paul stowed his bike. Paul dropped into the passenger seat and pulled on his belt before handing the bag over to Richard. “Butch, you‟re going to have to get a bike rack, because if you think we‟re doing this once and never again, you‟re sadly mistaken. Now, let‟s go forth unto where I‟m going to ride you hard and put you away wet.” Richard laughed and gave Paul what his assistant called his “bitch, please” look. “You think I‟d mar my baby with a bike rack?” Richard fished his scone out of the bag before pulling into the sparse traffic. “Actually, I‟d sooner mount my literal baby with a bike rack than my Jag. Which way?” Paul read directions off his phone to Richard, heading them for the country. “Better skip it. I don‟t think Kyle has the hair to work a bike rack. So how was your week?” “My week?” Richard echoed as they left the city behind. “It was busy. Full of assholes with too much money thinking they‟re special. I did a lot of ass-kissing

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followed by a lot of put-in-placing, and vice versa. I‟ve been told I‟m good with people, but in this job, it doesn‟t seem to make a difference.” Richard shrugged and chomped into his scone with an appreciative moan, gesturing with it to Paul and swallowing the crumbs to say, “Thanks for breakfast, by the way. So how was your week? Meet anyone interesting? Write any?” Paul didn‟t reply until he‟d devoured his bagel. “Did an interview with a supposedly antisocial author for Playboy. The guy‟s kind of a recluse, but he liked my dad‟s band and is gay, so he was willing to talk to me. But he‟s not out, so we talked about that. Off the record, of course. Got nothing done on my fiction. Dragged Kyle to the clinic, so he‟s all tested, and we‟re hoping not to hear anything back.” Chewing another bite of scone, Richard grunted acknowledgment and gave Paul a sympathetic grin. When he‟d swallowed, he said, “Good about Kyle. Thanks for that, too. Anyway, I‟d ask what it‟s like interviewing famous people, but you have to be pretty used to them by now, being your father‟s son. Do people ever try to be seen with you so they‟ll hit the society page?” Flushing slightly, Richard added, “I was concerned what might happen if people saw us out together without knowing I was your best friend‟s dad.” Paul frowned. “Would that be so bad? To be seen with me and people speculate? You‟d be one of the better people I‟ve been quote-unquote paired with.” “You wouldn‟t be embarrassed?” Richard risked a sideways glance and a nervous half-laugh. “Kyle would hit the roof, but otherwise, being seen with you would do wonders for my reputation.” “I don‟t see the downside of either of those scenarios. You‟ll have to come to the next gala I‟m invited to. You‟d be quite handsome as my arm candy.” Paul‟s eyes widened. “Oh, you‟re about to miss the exit.” “Oh shit.” Richard jolted from his contemplation of Paul‟s words to change lanes quickly, downshifting and throwing on his blinker with the ease of having done it many times over the last thirty years. Course corrected, Richard let out a relieved laugh.

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“I haven‟t been to a party in forever. Not counting office parties, but honestly, do those ever count? I‟m thinking not.” “You see something in the paper you want to go to, I‟d take you in a heartbeat. Hot as you are in the biking gear, I bet you‟re a real silver fox in a tux.” Paul eyed Richard, his gaze lingering on his bicep and then his lap. Then he looked out the window. “I never go with anyone.” Richard‟s ears burned pleasantly. That look seemed difficult to misinterpret. It was possible he was reading too much into it, and it might not be a great idea to encourage it, but… Licking his lips, Richard asked, “You don‟t date? Or you don‟t date publicly? It‟s hard to imagine a handsome young gentleman like you going without.” “I have before, but the thing is that you‟re giving someone the ability to humiliate you. I mean, it‟s hard enough to deal with someone cheating in private. When it‟s in the newspapers…” Paul gestured vaguely at the window. “Anyway, I haven‟t dated in a while. I‟d have to really trust someone. He‟d have to be extraordinary.” Paul met Richard‟s eyes for a moment. His expression was one of longing tinged with fear, all too familiar to Richard. “Anyway, I like spending time with you. So even if you…moved on or whatever, I couldn‟t complain about the company.” That brought a startled laugh to Richard‟s lips. “What? Me? Move on? Have you seen my track record?” Uncomfortably excited by the direction the conversation was heading, Richard pointed at a thicket in the distance to change the subject. “There, is that it?” “Yeah, I think so.” Paul looked out the window, then poked at his phone. “All right, man. I don‟t know if Kyle‟s mentioned it, but I do charity rides and races. It‟s pretty intense. Think you‟re up to it?” “You‟ll whip me like a naughty orphan.” Richard grinned at him as he pulled into the driveway. “I do an hour a day in the gym at lunch and swim laps on the

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weekend, do some jogging around the neighborhood, but serious outdoors? Not in years. I‟m ready to have my soft ass handed to me, though.” After parking the car as far from the others as possible to avoid the possibility of some gigantic SUV full of kids close enough to scratch his paint job, Richard popped the trunk and climbed out. The air was so much cleaner away from the city; everything smelled earthy and sweet with trees, grass, and flowers. All the worries he‟d carried with him slipped away. Before he even closed his door, he took a minute to stretch and breathe deeply. When he was ready to move things along, Richard helped Paul unload their bikes and took his backpack from the backseat. Straddling his bike, he settled the straps over his shoulders and slid his water bottle into the holder. Looking back to Paul, he raised his brows in silent invitation to bring it. Paul hopped onto his bike and clamped his feet into place. He popped a cocky wheelie, and then with a clatter of dust and gravel, he was off, barreling down the parking area, weaving between stray families with the ease of a man who biked between unpredictable drivers. He paused at the start of the trail to shout, “You coming or what?” “Little shit.” Richard laughed and took off after him, a bit slower going around the random clusters of people. As he caught up to Paul, he narrowed his eyes and gave him a playful glare. “It‟s going to be a lot harder to admire my inspirational geriatric athleticism if I‟m eating your dust, so you might want to rein it in, Lance Armstrong.” “Isn‟t Lance Armstrong about your age? It‟s hard to say—I get you senior citizens all mixed up.” Paul laughed and advanced, driving them deeper along the trail. “He‟s a bit younger, but thanks for reminding me how I‟ve wasted my youth behind a desk.”

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Paul cycled ahead for a while and then coasted, waiting for Richard to catch up with him. “You know, when you‟re right, you‟re right. You ride ahead, and I‟ll admire your ass.” Richard grunted in irritation and poured on the speed for a moment to get ahead of the smirking blond brat. Tightening his grip on the handlebars, he stood on the pedals to give Paul an unobstructed view of his butt, and then sat back down and glared back at him with the beginnings of real competitiveness. “Don‟t think I‟m going to make this easy on you, kid.” Paul laughed and closed the distance with a few hard pumps. Holding his hand out, he smacked the top of Richard‟s ass and then sped forward, playfully weaving right in front of him. “Oh I‟ve been hoping you‟d make things hard on me since we met.” Flushing with more than the exertion, Richard started to accuse Paul of a low blow but then realized the phrase was asking for trouble. Still, the flirtation was thrilling, whether or not it was serious, and he couldn‟t help loving it. It made him feel alive again. “Come back here and say that to my face, young man.” Richard teased as he edged sideways, pressed his feet hard against the pedals, and leaned low over the handlebars to shoot ahead and pull parallel to Paul on the path. Grinning wildly, he reached over to give Paul a light shove. “I was wrong about you, Paul. You are definitely a bad kid.” Paul knocked back at Richard with his shoulder, laughing. “I am a bad kid. I‟m flirting with my best friend‟s dad.” Still, he bit his lip and looked Richard up and down. “I‟m never this bad with anyone else. You bring out the bad kid in me.” Paul tucked in and shot forward again, starting them up a tall hill. If Richard wasn‟t hallucinating, Paul was bashful. The realization that this wasn‟t idle teasing hit him hard. Feeling breathless, he cycled after him, chasing him uphill with more vigor than he‟d suspected himself capable of. He didn‟t speak until they‟d crested the rise, saving every hard-won breath for his exertions. As they

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began the long, leisurely coast downhill, though, Richard gave Paul a shit-eating grin he couldn‟t hold back. “Do I bring out anything else in you I should know about?” “Maybe… Hey, look, there‟s another hill. Supposed to be an amazing view from up there. Though…” Paul gave Richard the kind of look Kyle called eye-fucking. “I‟m not sure how the view could be improved.” Paul blushed again and then sped forward before Richard could respond. Richard followed, exhilarated in ways he couldn‟t remember feeling since he was a teenager. As soon as he shut his mouth, it curved back into a stupid grin he couldn‟t wipe away. He was right behind Paul as they reached the hilltop and stopped to admire the vista. As beautiful as it was, Richard couldn‟t quit glancing over at Paul‟s sweaty, reddened face. He was panting for breath after going flat-out up the hill, his chest rising and falling rapidly, muscles rippling in a way that made it impossible for Richard not to picture him naked. Richard tried to distract himself by pulling out his water bottle for a long sip, intending to use the time to come up with something clever to say to cut the tension building between them. When it came time, though, he couldn‟t do anything but gaze at Paul with wonder. “That something you tell all your biking friends?” Paul drank about half his water and then splashed some on his face. He hopped off his bike to stretch his legs and bent his knees a few times. “No. I mean, I don‟t know. I maybe kinda have a crush.” Avoiding Richard‟s eyes, Paul hopped up onto his bike and smiled. Then he tried to pull a jump. His front tire rose sharply before a displaced rock shot from beneath the bike and pitched it sideways. Losing control, Paul crashed hard onto the trail, tangled with the bike and unable to loose his feet from their clips. Once down, Paul remained still but for a string of curses coming out of his mouth like nothing Richard had ever heard.

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“Oh God.” Richard dropped his bike, rushed to Paul, and knelt to unfasten the clips from his feet and shove the bike out of the way. Slinging his backpack onto the ground in front of him, he rifled through it for the first-aid kit. Richard grumbled in mingled worry and exasperation as he ran his hands over Paul‟s body, trying to be clinical about it but unable to help noticing how hard and perfect it was. Clearing his throat and withdrawing his hands, he pulled out the antiseptic wash and adhesive bandages. Focusing closely on the abrasions on Paul‟s legs first, he rinsed the open wounds with gentle hands that hadn‟t seen action like this since Kyle was little. The dissonance between then and now made him lightheaded. “What on earth were you trying to do?” Richard looked at Paul‟s face, brows furrowed, and spared an antibiotic-coated hand to cradle his cheek. “Sweet, silly boy. Promise me not to do that again, okay?” “It‟s just a skinned knee; you don‟t need to kiss my booboos.” Paul‟s cheeks pinked as he looked down at the bloody mess and then back up to Richard. “I guess I got overexcited. I‟ve never told someone I had a crush on them.” “Really? Never?” Richard‟s voice creaked, and he cleared his throat. His hand tightened on Paul‟s face, his thumb stroking his cheekbone. Paul‟s face was so smooth and hot beneath his skin. “You know, it‟s probably really normal to develop a crush on your best friend‟s parent, if yours isn‟t there for you.” It pained Richard to say that, but it felt like he should give him that out. He dropped his hand to return to bandaging Paul‟s leg, but he let his palm linger on one muscular thigh, squeezing experimentally and glancing at his face. Paul closed his eyes for a moment at Richard‟s touch, and then he gazed at him, his expression muzzy. “You could be right, but I don‟t think you are. Do I make you uncomfortable? I mean, we were flirting before. I liked that. I‟m not much of a flirt.” “You seemed like a pro to me.” Richard narrowed his eyes, studying Paul‟s face. Richard‟s tongue flicked over suddenly dry lips as he resisted the urge to lean

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in and kiss the other man, to give in to this confusing compulsion to make something more of this new friendship. Exhaling shakily, he turned his attention back to the bandaging. “If I‟m uncomfortable, it‟s because it‟s been so long since I wanted someone besides Catherine.” Richard nodded and swallowed hard, trying to convey the gravity of his statement. “Maybe I can only want one person at a time, and you were there when I stopped wanting her. I‟m unprepared for this. Anyway, we should get you back before these wounds get any more trail dust in them.” Paul turned his face away as if he‟d been slapped. “Like a rebound.” Richard shoved everything back into his backpack and heaved himself to his feet, sick to his stomach at the look Paul had given him. “It‟s only a rebound if I‟m selfish about it.” Richard slung his backpack on and picked up his bike again, his eyes pleading as he gazed at Paul. “I‟m not going to do that to you. I care about you, Paul, and it‟s obvious you need someone you can lean on, someone you can trust. I want to be that person for you. If you could see how much I‟ve thought about you since we met…” Richard sighed and stared at his feet. His formerly pristine blue and white leather sneakers were coated in dirt, and he tapped one foot against the other to knock it free. Paul pushed himself to his feet. “I‟m okay, Richard. It‟s not my first crash and burn.” His laughter carried an edge of bitterness. “On any front. I‟ll be all right. No reason to head back. I mean, unless you‟re getting tired, old man?” Mashing his lips together, Richard swung his leg over his bike and gave Paul a challenging look. Then they took off down the path again, their earlier competitiveness and goading back with a vengeance. Richard could almost forget how strained things had felt for a few moments. Maybe if he could keep things casual, it would all be okay. By the time they circled back to the car, the sun was high overhead, and Richard really did feel like he‟d been “ridden hard and put up wet,” just as Paul had

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taunted. There was no way he was going to let it show, though, and he made a special point of stifling the moan that tried to burst out as he dismounted and popped the trunk to stow his bike. “If you‟re too tired to teach me how to make lunch, we can pick something up.” Paul guzzled down the last of his water, letting the final burst splash on his face. Then he packed his bike in the trunk. Paul squatted, cooling down. “We can pick up some ice for your back. Maybe some more bandages for my boo-boo.” “I have all that at the house.” Richard did squats while facing Paul, copying his brilliant idea of stretching before his muscles cramped. “Look, if you want to go home and get away from my awkward bullshit, I get it. I‟m a disappointment, and maybe you‟ll get over it and want to hang out again later, and maybe you won‟t. If that happens, I won‟t come begging for your attention, but I don‟t want this day to be over yet because I‟m emotionally retarded.” Biting his lip, Richard reached out a sweaty, dusty hand to Paul‟s neck with his thumb pressed to that perfect jawline. The ache in his heart hurt more than the ache in his legs, and the only thing that helped was touching the younger man. Whether touching him was right or wrong didn‟t compare to the feeling the touching gave him. “Don‟t give up on me yet, Paul. Old dogs take some time to learn new tricks, but it‟s not impossible.” Paul dropped his gaze to the ground, but he didn‟t move from the affection. “I‟d rather be your friend than jump into something and then lose you. I want to spend time with you, and I want you to work out whether it‟s me you want. You‟re not a disappointment. I got ahead of myself.” Looking up mischievously, Paul said, “Another thing I‟m faster at.” “Yeah, all right, I get it. You‟re young and awesome and run circles around me. I, however, have a few tricks up my sleeve you haven‟t seen.” Richard rose and stretched one last time before slipping into the driver‟s seat. He waited for Paul to climb in and buckle up, and then backed out, careful to avoid the kids running

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around the lot and the harried parents trying to keep up. Watching them brought back bittersweet memories, and Richard wasted no time getting the hell out of there. Once they were safely underway, Richard looked over to Paul. “I stocked up on stuff I thought you might like from the organic market.” He laughed. “Highlights: nine dollars for some matcha ice milk, ten for fair-trade chocolate. And despite it all, I still spent less on this trip than when Kyle goes to the regular market to buy lunch for himself.” Looking back to the road to avoid hitting Paul full in the face with a blast of earnestness, he finished, “Anyway, I was looking forward to today, and you should know that. Whatever this is, it‟s never going to be something I take lightly or discard on a whim.” “Did you go to the organic market in your business suit?” Paul grinned. “That‟s so nice of you. I try not to force it on other people, but Kyle likes picking on me about it. I think he maybe feels a niggle of guilt, and that makes him hostile. Either that or all the red meat.” Paul reached out and touched the side of Richard‟s face lightly and then patted his shoulder. “I was looking forward to today too. I didn‟t expect to…say what I did. I‟m sorry. I‟m not demanding anything of you but your friendship, Richard.” Paul‟s touch burned Richard‟s cheek long after he‟d moved his hand away. The tingling nerves reminded him viscerally of the distant past, of other touches that thrilled him. None of those mattered now though. Every sense focused on the man sitting beside him, trying so hard to be reassuring despite getting pushed back. Richard melted. “You don‟t need to apologize. That was probably the most wonderful… You make me feel like I‟m more than some cruelly designed worker drone combination ATM that can also field three a.m. calls for bail money.” Glancing sideways, he sighed. “You have no idea what that means to me.” Paul smiled slightly and then returned to looking at the road. “I try to create stability around myself, make a bubble of detachment where I can be safe. But it

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gets lonely. So I reach out to people who introduce chaos back into my world. I don‟t feel like you would. Well, not yet. Just don‟t go all midlife crisis-y on me.” Laughing, Richard shook his head. “What if my midlife crisis involves flirting with a man half my age and going for reckless bike rides in the country with him while otherwise being reliable and conscientious? Would you accept that?” “Just don‟t buy an ugly car, I guess.” Paul sighed. “I really do come across as your midlife crisis, don‟t I? That figures.” Paul dropped his head on the back of the seat and stared up at the ceiling. “Oh well, at least you got someone hot to flirt with instead of some jerk after your money.” That sobered Richard, and he reached out to take Paul‟s hand. “This isn‟t a midlife crisis. I‟m not afraid of dying or losing my virility or being supplanted by the younger generation. I feel…” Richard couldn‟t say it. It was buried too deep. Instead, he squeezed Paul‟s hand tighter. “You matter to me.” Paul interlaced his fingers with Richard‟s. “You matter to me too. I‟ve gotten paranoid because I‟m so used to being left behind, but you don‟t throw people away. That‟s all I really need from you. The rest of it is a bonus.” “Good. I can do that much without trying.” Richard pulled Paul‟s hand with his over the gear knob to shift and take the turn to Bedford. Then he moved their hands to rest atop Paul‟s thigh, enjoying holding on to him too much to let go. “And as you say, the rest is a bonus, whatever the rest of it is.” Shadows played over their hands while Paul stared at them. Whenever Richard glanced over, thoughts appeared to be rushing through Paul‟s mind. Sometimes he would smile and then chew his lip, but he remained quiet for the rest of the ride. Richard didn‟t pry. When they pulled into the garage, Paul squeezed Richard‟s fingers and then let himself out of the car. “Let‟s dig into that ten-dollar chocolate.”

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Chapter Four “Hey, Paulie, my boy, what are you up to?” Bruce Watkins sounded stoned, but then, he was always stoned. “Um, you know, stuff.” Paul hit CTRL+S on his keyboard and stared at the words on the screen. He loathed them already. “What‟s up?” “I haven‟t seen you in a while. You don‟t write; you don‟t call…” Bruce laughed until he started to hack. “I‟ve left messages.” Paul tried to remember if that was true. He had so many times in the past that it blended together. Half the time when he did get his dad on the phone, Bruce wouldn‟t remember the conversations. “No, you haven‟t, you little shit. What‟s going on? You knock up your little fruit fly? What‟s her name? That girl who hangs around you?” Paul smirked. “Kyle?” “No, the one with the tits, not the girl you live with.” “Madison‟s fine.” “You really should bring her by sometime. If she‟s not getting any off you…” “Dad, tell me you didn‟t call me for a hookup with my friend.” Bruce laughed again. “Could I? Kyle says you‟re a great wingman.” “Why did you call?” Paul grimaced as he reread the words on his screen again and then closed his laptop. “I want to see you, Paulie. Think you can spare a few to come by and see your old man, or are you too good for a visit?”

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“No. I‟m not too good to… Anyway, when do you want me to come by? Tomorrow or something? I can bring lunch.” “Now, Paul. I want to see you now. I want you to come over. You think you can, kid?” Paul frowned. “What happened? Do you have to move again?” “No, no, it‟s not that. Anne‟s a keeper. Oh, Brianne. Sorry, honey.” Bruce chuckled under his breath. “Whatever.” “What is it? Is it an emergency?” “Kind of. Don‟t make me beg, kiddo. I need to see you, okay?” “Yeah. No, I mean, of course, Dad. I‟ll be right there.” Paul ran his hand through his hair. He scanned the room, wondering if he should hop in the shower first. “As soon as you can.” The line went dead. Paul tapped his fingers on the office chair, considering. His dad never called and wanted to see him. Not unless he needed something. But he hadn‟t asked him to bring a car or money or beer or anything. Deciding it really must be an emergency, Paul sprang to action, tying on his shoes and fastening his helmet as quickly as he could before grabbing his bike and heading for the elevator.

*** The music blasted at ear-splitting levels, which would‟ve been bad enough on its own, but worse was that it was really bad house music. Gay as Paul was, even he had limits when it came to house. “No, really. I‟m fine, Bob. I‟m going to, you know.” Paul gestured to the cramped, wood-paneled bathroom. The boards were warped and still looked wet. The whole house felt like a sauna—a pot-smoky sauna full of naked people. Somewhere in the middle of it, Paul could hear his dad getting off. Paul shuddered.

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Bob stood at what had to be at least seven feet tall and about as wide. He was covered head to toe in curly black hair. Wearing leather chaps that were probably tight twenty pounds ago and a policeman‟s cap, he was the leatheriest, daddiest leather daddy of them all. “You‟d better not be touching yourself in there,” Bob boomed. His voice was like the sound of God, if God drank too much and sucked a lot of cock. “I‟ll be listening.” Paul slammed the door and locked it. Throwing his body against the door as if he wouldn‟t be flattened if Bob decided to barge in, Paul grabbed his phone and speed-dialed Richard. Trying to control the hysteria in his voice, Paul said, “Please be home. Please be home. Please be home.” The phone clicked. “Richard Lynch,” Richard replied sleepily in a way that indicated he hadn‟t checked caller ID before picking up. “Richard, it‟s Paul.” He hoped Richard could hear him over the cacophony around him. “Paul? Hey, it‟s late. Are you all right?” Clapping his hand over his other ear when Bob started pounding on the door, Paul shouted, “No!” hoping it was emphatic enough to be heard. Paul took a few panicked breaths, trying to not sound like a scared child, but he‟d been dealing with this guy for a couple of hours now. “Richard, can you…come get me if I give you the address? It‟s kinda out of the way, but there‟s this guy, and he‟s big, and my dad told him I‟d have sex with him, and every time I go out to my bike, he threatens to break it, and I don‟t know what else to do, so if you could drive over, I could run out and hop in the car, and that would be really great. Please?” “Are you serious? What the fuck? Putting on my ass-kicking shoes.” “No, no ass kicking. You don‟t understand, Richard. This guy is big like Hagrid is big. No, like Hagrid‟s fat fucking brother, only in chaps with a big flabby, furry

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ass, and I think he said he had a whip somewhere and… Oh God, you don‟t know who Hagrid is, do you? From the Harry Potter movies? Er. Harry Potter the book, not some guy named Harry.” There was a brief pause and an angry-sounding grunt. “Going downstairs to the car now.” One door slammed, then another, and then Richard sounded like he‟d been running. “Address?” Paul gave him the address. He couldn‟t hear much over the phone, but given the length of silence and the fact that the phone said they were still connected, Paul figured Richard had to be on his way. Then Richard spoke like he was talking through gritted teeth. “Listen, Paul, I don‟t have to know who the fuck this guy is to know that if he lays a fucking finger on you, I will make him wish his mother aborted. You think I can‟t—” Richard stopped speaking, and there was a sharp noise that cut through the rest and a pause before he spoke again. “Whatever. I‟ll be there. I‟m glad you called. You did right.” “Will you stay on the phone with me? Let me know when you‟re here? I don‟t want to be alone right now. I mean, I know you‟re not here, but hearing your voice makes me feel better.” Paul sighed. “I‟m sorry. I know I must sound like such a spazzed-out kid. I didn‟t know this was what I was in for. My dad called, and I thought he wanted to talk to me. I‟m such an idiot sometimes.” “You sound less whiny and spastic than Kyle usually does when he calls late. Or, really, anytime. Trust me; it‟s not making me think less of you.” There was engine roar for a moment, the sound of upshifting. “I told you that you could call me if you ever needed someone. This is one of those times. If you didn‟t sound upset, I‟d be a lot more irritated to be up at this hour. Is there somewhere safe to hide out while you wait for me?” “I‟m hiding in the bathroom.” The door shuddered, bouncing Paul forward. He slammed back against it. “Um, define safe?” “Hey. Who are you talking to in there?” Bob pounded on the door again.

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“Are you close, Richard? This guy… My dad kind of met him, and he said he was gay, and my dad said he had a gay son, and now he thinks he‟s my boyfriend or something. Or I was traded for food. I really don‟t know what‟s going on. I don‟t usually have this much trouble eluding people at these things.” Paul frowned at how that sounded, but it was true. Normally he could make a clean escape. “Tell him you‟re talking to your boyfriend. Tell him he‟s on his way to get you. Explain there was a misunderstanding.” There was a high-pitched whine from the Jag‟s engine and a few muttered curses from Richard before he said, “Look, I‟m almost there. Keep that freak confused enough to leave his dick in his pants for five more minutes. I won‟t let anything bad happen to you, Paul. I swear.” “My boyfriend?” Paul was making far too much of this. Still, the idea made him smile, and he couldn‟t help it. He turned around and pounded back on the door. “I‟m talking to my boyfriend.” The notion at least seemed to stop the pounding. Paul wondered why he hadn‟t tried that before. “What? You have a boyfriend? Is he a cub?” “No, he‟s not a cub. Now back off from this door. I‟m coming out, and he‟s going to be out front.” Paul took a few long breaths and then kicked the door open, phone clutched tightly in one hand. “Is he coming for a threesome?” Bob looked so hopeful. When he wasn‟t angry or demanding sex, Bob could be fairly endearing. Probably. “No.” Paul brushed past him and made a break for the door, doing his best not to step in questionable piles of people, clothes, or whatever that goo might‟ve been. Outside, Paul could breathe again. He stood on his toes, eyeing the horizon, looking desperately for headlights. “No! Come back, my little cub,” Bob shouted from somewhere behind him. “You can‟t leave.” Paul whirled around when the light from the door suddenly cut off. He ducked behind some bushes, crouching in the hope that Bob‟s vision—like that of many other large, scary beasts—was based on movement.

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Through the branches, Paul could see Bob filling the door frame. He shouted Paul‟s name, his hands cupped up to his mouth. Lights flashed over Paul, which was simultaneously a relief and frightening because Bob caught sight of Paul and came running like an angry Viking. “Shit, is that him?” Richard‟s voice sounded tinny with the distance between Paul‟s phone and his ear—reminding Paul he hadn‟t yet hung up—and then the line went silent. Richard‟s car spun to a halt in the middle of the driveway at an angle like an action hero‟s. Then he threw open the door and emerged wearing a halfbuttoned white dress shirt and black suit trousers; the ass-kicking shoes appeared to be some very expensive wingtips. The moment Richard was out of the car, he held out visibly tense arms to Paul while his gaze stayed locked on the behemoth barreling down on them. “Sorry I‟m late, baby. I got held up at the office. Did you miss me?” Paul leaped from his spot behind the bushes and flew into Richard‟s arms, all but knocking him over. Richard‟s body was taut against his, his muscles rippling like he was ready for a fight. “I missed you. I missed you so much.” Burying his face against Richard‟s neck, he worried they might both get their asses kicked, but he didn‟t think so. He hoped what Kyle said about his dad being someone who chewed people up and spit them out was true now. Smelling Richard‟s cologne relaxed Paul until he heard Bob breathing heavily behind him. “What? Who are you? You‟re the boyfriend?” Bob sounded dubious through his panting. “You‟re kind of old for him, aren‟t you?” “Paul prefers a man who knows what he‟s doing.” Richard pushed Paul behind him, insinuating himself between him and Bob. “Then again, you look like you could use some further advice: Paul also prefers a man who owns grooming tools and visits a gym regularly.” Richard shrugged, his gaze remaining locked on Bob‟s despite the gradual tilting back of his head the closer Bob got. That unwavering

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stare and the reptilian quality of Richard‟s smile did a bit to explain how he‟d made it to senior management. “Paul, why don‟t you introduce me to Hagrid here? He seems to think he knows you.” Paul stood beside Richard, unwilling to let him face this guy alone. “Richard, this is Bob. He‟s my dad‟s friend, I think. Bob, this is my boyfriend, Richard, and I love him.” Before Bob could respond or offer his hand, Paul grabbed Richard by his shirt, fisted it in his hand, and pulled him in to kiss him deeply, practically ramming his tongue down Richard‟s throat. If he‟d wondered before what Richard‟s tonsils tasted like, he knew now. The thought made him hard. Releasing Richard‟s shirt, Paul cupped his hands around his face and curled his fingers under Richard‟s jaw, caressing the rough stubble. “Hello. Do you want me to meet this guy or what?” Bob said. Paul didn‟t want to stop kissing Richard, but he wasn‟t sure how long he could do so with Richard‟s continued participation. He stopped and gazed into Richard‟s warm, dark eyes. “Right, you should meet him.” Paul continued to stroke the side of Richard‟s face. “Anyway, this is my boyfriend, Richard, Bob.” If Richard was stunned, he didn‟t show it, gamely turning his face to meet Bob‟s irritated look. Holding out a neatly manicured hand to shake, Richard gave Bob a smile less cold than before. “So good to meet you, Bob. Please excuse Paul‟s rudeness; he gets so distraught when we‟re apart.” Richard‟s other arm went around Paul‟s waist in a possessive display, his face rubbing deliberately into Paul‟s touches, though he kept mistrustful eyes on the giant looming so close. Bob took Richard‟s hand. He glared at the two. “He didn‟t say he had a boyfriend. Shit, kid, if you‟d said so from the start… Hey, how come your dad doesn‟t know you have a boyfriend?”

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“Do you tell your dad about your boyfriends?” Paul wasn‟t sure how to answer the other part. If Richard really was his boyfriend, he would‟ve shown him off to his dad first chance he got. “I guess not.” Bob kicked the ground, looking like a fitful toddler. “So you two do threesomes?” “No,” Paul and Richard said at the same time. “How long have you been together?” Bob asked. “Not nearly long enough to satisfy me,” Richard said with a suave smile and vaguely wicked delivery that would have done James Bond proud. “But you see, Bob, Paul‟s father and my ex-wife used to be involved. Add in the fact Paul and my son are roommates, and you‟ll understand why it‟s complicated. Actually, this is a perfect opportunity for me to meet the parent.” Still wearing his charmingly malicious grin, Richard tightened his arm on Paul‟s waist and guided him back toward the open door, pausing for effect and dragging Paul in for another deep kiss that seemed like a lot more than acting. His tongue explored Paul‟s mouth as thoroughly as Paul had done to him, his hand at Paul‟s waist sliding lower, fingers flexing to grip the side of his ass before he pulled away, still grinning, still seeming intent on going into the madhouse. Part of Paul was thinking no no no when it came to Richard going inside. What he would see in there would probably traumatize him. Hell, Paul had seen it a million times, and it still traumatized him. But his judgment was clouded from all the kissing. And that Richard had grabbed his ass. He was so excited that even the sight of his dad‟s bitch tits wasn‟t going to deflate him. “I‟ve gotta see this,” Bob said and followed them inside.

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The house was thoroughly trashy with carpet worn bare in places. Paul was pretty sure the couch was smoldering. Two burnouts were naked and passed out in what appeared to be midcoitus. “I think he‟s in the master bedroom.” Paul gestured toward the room through a smoky hallway, but before Richard could take another step, Paul grabbed him again and gave him another long, lingering kiss. He pushed Richard against the wall, well aware he had no legitimate excuse for it as he flushed his tongue with Richard‟s, breaking off with a few light kisses around his lips. When they finally got to the doorway of the master bedroom, Paul‟s father was naked on the bed but for a leopard-print silk robe wadded up around his waist. A woman with obvious roots and hair so permed it stuck up and waved at odd angles was bobbing her head over his crotch. Bruce looked up. “Hey, Paul. Who‟s your friend?” “This is Richard. He‟s…um…” Wow, the possibilities of ways he could introduce Richard were mind-boggling. Boyfriend? Guy whose wife you fucked? Father figure? Best friend? Roommate‟s dad? “He‟s my Richard.” “Well hey there, Richard, put ‟er here.” Bruce reached over the woman to offer his hand. “Sorry, I left my Purell in my other pants.” Richard stared at Bruce and his female companion with so little emotion that he could have been carved from stone. “I wanted to meet you, though I don‟t think Paul thought it was a good idea. I hate to interrupt your fellation, but I think we both know it‟s habit for you by now, and you don‟t really give a fuck about the sex anymore.” With a look of distinct distaste, Richard cast about for a pair of bottoms and chucked them at Bruce without touching the fabric with more than the very tips of his fingers. Then Richard looked at the woman still crouched between Bruce‟s legs and said, “Wait outside, ma‟am.” Yes. This meeting was clearly a bad idea in the way nuclear war was a bad idea.

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“What?” The woman sat up, blinking like she‟d just woken up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Go on outside, Jenna,” said Bruce. His eyes darted between Richard‟s and Paul‟s. “So what is this about?” “Janine,” the woman said. She huffed. “If you think I‟m coming back to finish your limp dick, you‟ve got another thing coming.” Good for you, Janine. Paul never understood why any woman would put up with his dad‟s bullshit. He had a special affection for women who didn‟t. “Yeah, yeah,” said Bruce. He waved her off, and she left. Paul offered her a brief smile as she went. She gave him the finger. She didn‟t need his condescension. Rock and roll all the way. His dad was missing out. Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Paul had a sinking feeling Richard was angry and quite possibly because of his wife. After all, she was the one he had history with. Paul was some dumb kid. A friend. A good friend. A good friend and a good kisser, he hoped. But the fury in Richard‟s eyes looked like it went deep. Deeper than Paul could imagine he was in Richard‟s heart. Bruce pulled on his pants and made a big show of peacocking around the room before finally settling in to stand before Richard, waving his hands in at himself. “All right, man. You obviously have a beef with me. Let‟s hear it.” “Paul had to call me to come rescue him because you whored him out to Blaster here.” Richard glanced with faint humor back to where Bob still loomed like a hairy human mountain. “Sorry. Bob.” Then he looked back to Bruce. “From what Paul‟s told me, you make a habit of this bullshit. You use him to make people like you, to get attention, to pretend you‟re still hip and relevant and not pitifully milking some mediocre single released so long ago even a dinosaur like me barely remembers it.” As Richard spoke, the words grew more heated, his frosty self-restraint melting into something unpredictable. Suddenly his arms went around Paul and

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pulled him close, protective and almost paternal except for the unmistakable pressure of Richard‟s erection. “You‟re a fuck-up, Bruce. You know it, and I know it. Paul doesn‟t need you as much as you need him, and you and I both know that too. This is your notice that you need to stick to exploiting losers, because Paul deserves better, and from now on he‟s going to have it.” Feeling Richard‟s erection against him made everything else go away. It was all Paul could concentrate on. Even as his father gestured wildly and Bob barked at both Richard and Bruce, Paul stared dreamily at Richard. My Richard. Richard was angry because of him. He cared. “Paul? What is this? Who is this man telling me I‟m a fuck-up?” “This man? This is my boyfriend.” Paul wrapped his arms around Richard again, leaning against him for support. “And he‟s right.” Bob bristled. “That‟s no way to speak about your father!” Bruce laughed. “Your boyfriend? He‟s older than I am. Is that what this is about? Your daddy issues? First you‟re gay, and we pretend not to know what that’s about. Then you‟re fucking a guy old enough to be me? And I get it, Paul. I do. I admit, you‟re pretty hot. You look like me. But this is worrying me, man. We need to get you into therapy.” Richard shoved Paul behind him, and in the next moment, his fist flew threw the air and crunched into Bruce‟s nose with enough force to knock him off his feet. Bruce fell back with blood streaming from his nostrils, and Richard leaned over to wipe his knuckles clean on the bed. Before anyone could react, Richard grabbed Paul and shoved him out of the bedroom ahead of him, following close on his heels and navigating them around the disgusting obstacles between them and the front door while pandemonium erupted behind them. The fresh air outside hit them as the noise reached its peak inside. Richard‟s keys were already to hand, and he opened the passenger-side door to push Paul inside. Pressing the keys into Paul‟s hand, he barked, “Start the car,” and then his

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phone was at his ear. “Spare me the reminder of the hour, Louis. I know it‟s late. There‟s possibly going to be some bad press tomorrow. I never put a foot out of line before, but I did the media hokey pokey tonight and put my whole self out, so be prepared.” There was a brief pause, and Richard stood there, blocking Paul from getting out of the car again and waiting for the rabble to come to him. “Well, the story is I‟m dating my son‟s roommate, who happens to be Bruce Watkins‟s son, and I assaulted that disgusting prick, one punch; broke his nose, I think. I know, I know. Well, this is why I‟m calling you now, Lou. Texting you the address to give the cops. Bye.” The next moment, Bruce staggered out the front door cursing and wailing, and Richard straightened from where he‟d leaned with his hip cocked against the Jag, his fingertips still moving over the keypad of his phone. Shouting to be heard above the din, Richard said, “Hey, no worries, Bruce. I alerted the cops that I assaulted you. If there‟s anything inside you crazy kids want to flush, now‟s the time. The popo is on its way.” Through the wide-open door, the sudden bustle of the stoned partygoers resembled a stomped-on anthill. Shrieks of “Where‟re my keys?” burst from the inebriated, half-nude people. Richard gave Bruce a wave and crossed around the front of the car to slide into the driver‟s seat and pull out of the driveway, not slowing down until they were out of the neighborhood. Even halfway back to Richard‟s place, which was where Paul assumed they were going, Paul couldn‟t decide what to say. Bruce always believed the world revolved around him. Especially Paul‟s life. This wasn‟t the first time he‟d heard his dad‟s theory of Paul‟s homosexuality. He‟d always approached it with a sigh of exasperation, but maybe he should‟ve punched Bruce out the first time. Paul looked over at Richard, who was glancing nervously at him, obviously awaiting a response. Paul rested his wrist on Richard‟s shoulder to stroke the side of his face.

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“I doubt he‟ll press charges. He‟s not going to want to admit he got his ass kicked by a guy in a suit. You‟ll become an unidentified biker gang he thwarted single-handedly.” Paul shook his head. “I can hear him now: „You should‟ve seen the other guy.‟” Dropping his hand to rest on Richard‟s arm, Paul said, “He‟s not worth the trouble. I wish he was. I‟ve wanted him to be worth it my whole life. But he‟s not.” Paul smiled shyly as they pulled into Richard‟s neighborhood. “So are we really dating?” Even thinking it made Paul breathless—as much from fear as excitement. Dating. Boyfriend. Paul wanted these things so badly, but it scared him too. Things with Richard were so complicated. Their relationships with the people around them could make or break their being together. After all, Kyle was Richard‟s son. Up till now, Paul had capitalized on Kyle‟s disinterest in what his roommate got up to when he wasn‟t around. And it wasn‟t as if Kyle ever called his father. But if he and Richard were going to date, if it got serious, they‟d have to tell Kyle. And Catherine. He didn‟t think his father would know Richard‟s relation to Catherine. Even if she had pictures of Richard lying around—which he didn‟t think she did—his father would never remember in a million years. Richard still hadn‟t answered when they pulled into the driveway. Paul chewed his lip and tried to brace himself. Richard parked in the garage and shut off the engine before turning his face toward Paul in the dim light coming through the garage door. “I think it‟s early to call me your boyfriend, but Saturday was a date, wasn‟t it? One of the less awkward first dates in the history of first dates, as that goes.” The leather squeaked as Richard slid closer, his body leaning across the front seat toward him, his hand sliding through Paul‟s hair at his nape and pulling him closer to meet Richard‟s mouth. Richard made a strangled little sound, his breathing noisy and erratic as his tongue pushed into Paul‟s mouth.

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Paul parted his lips eagerly, scooting closer so he could touch Richard, feel his chest, his arms as their tongues teased together. By now Richard‟s taste was familiar, all toothpaste-before-bed-ified and sweet. If he hadn‟t had a crush on Richard before, his riding in on his Jag-steed would‟ve sunk Paul completely. And the kisses. Now that he could slow down and appreciate the moment without fearing one of Bob‟s massive fists, Paul wasn‟t going to stop. Undoing his seat belt, Paul climbed over the gear shifter and straddled Richard‟s lap. The wheel dug into his back, and he surprised himself by knocking into the horn, but it didn‟t stop him. Paul sucked Richard‟s tongue, his bottom lip, growing more excited by the second. “Wait.” Richard‟s head leaned back against the headrest, his hands on Paul tense and hesitant. His right hand moved to Paul‟s hair, combing it back behind his ear, his dark eyes searching Paul‟s. A slow smile spread from his lips to his eyes, a look of wonder, like it was Christmas and Paul was a present waiting to be unwrapped. Richard licked his lips, pushed open the car door, and then he was scooting them out and pulling Paul to his feet against him so he could close the door. Before Paul could speak, Richard‟s mouth captured his again, his hands moving down Paul‟s back and through his hair as he walked him to the garage door and forced it open to let them stumble inside. Richard locked it behind them and looked back to Paul, that radiant, awed smile still deepening the lines of his face. “It‟s so midlife crisis to wake the neighborhood.” Richard‟s eyes flickered in the direction of the stairs, and then his lips were on Paul‟s again, his hands on his body guiding him with the clear intent of taking him to his room. When they reached the stairs, Paul awkwardly tried to walk backward up them, but that wasn‟t going to happen. He decided it was time to come up for air, at least till they got to the top of the stairs. He wanted to ask if this was really what

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Richard wanted, but he was afraid of the answer. Any stalling might lose momentum. Paul ran up the stairs. “You rescued the princess from the castle. A hero is meant to claim his reward.” Grinning, Paul pulled Richard into his arms again to resume their mad kissing, clunking clumsily against the wall as he misjudged where the door was. It made their teeth clash, which made them both laugh. Paul traced the fine laugh lines around Richard‟s eyes, gazing at him before backing them into the bedroom. As soon as the heavy oak doors closed behind them, Richard‟s mouth was on his again, so insistent the idea of losing momentum became laughable. His fingers tugged at the hem of Paul‟s T-shirt, pulling it off over his head so smoothly it broke the kiss for only a moment. Richard‟s fingers moved to Paul‟s jeans next, unbuttoning the waistband and pulling down the zipper before shoving the denim down his thighs and scratching his nails back up them. Then Richard pulled back just enough to look at Paul; the smile was gone from his lips, but it still lingered around his eyes as they moved over Paul‟s body and back to his face. “So handsome.” The whisper was as warm with approval as his gaze, as his hands when they pressed to his flat chest and smoothed down over his stomach. Richard swallowed hard and then crushed his body to Paul‟s again, propelling them back toward the gigantic bed. The top of the mattress hit midthigh, and Richard‟s weight pushed him down into the welcoming softness of the thick duvet. Paul was relieved his body met with approval. Now he let out the breath he‟d been holding since Richard had started undressing him. On his back, he kicked out of his jeans, losing his shoes in the tangle of fabric. Rolling them to their sides, Paul unbuttoned Richard‟s shirt and shoved it off over his shoulder, letting Richard sit up enough to pull the other sleeve off. He

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reached for Richard‟s belt as he stared into the older man‟s eyes. Without being directed to stop, Paul unfastened the belt, bypassed the button and the zipper. Paul worked the fabric down past Richard‟s thighs as they kissed, pressing their bare chests together. The feel of Richard‟s skin, the warmth of his body, made Paul ache to be touched. But he was still worried, in spite of all messages to the contrary, that Richard might not fully grasp what they were doing, that Richard was going to really feel another erection. Pulling Richard‟s leg up over him, Paul wiggled in close to line them up so they could rub together, so Richard could feel it. Richard tensed at first, but then he moaned hoarsely and moved closer, toeing off his shoes and shoving his trousers the rest of the way from his legs. One of his arms slid under Paul‟s waist to hug him close, and the other hand tugged at Paul‟s hair before sliding down his back to squeeze his ass. Kissing Paul again, Richard ground against him, his mostly erect cock growing fully hard. “Never did this.” Richard‟s unsurprising words were a breath against Paul‟s lips, but then he added raggedly, “I wanted to, but…” His eyes opened to look at Paul, his gaze intense enough to burn. “It needed to be like this, like you.” Paul moved against him, frotting more certainly now that he knew Richard enjoyed it. “You pictured a blond young man who lived with your son?” He grinned and then kissed Richard before he could respond, not wanting to be awkward so much as funny. “What did you picture? What did you want to do? I‟m versatile if you…you know, depending on what you want.” “I pictured this, you. Handsome like a movie star, strong, practical.” Richard‟s voice sounded dreamy, faraway, and young, without the edge and authority it usually held. “A man who‟d watch my back, the kind of man I could trust to stand by my side no matter what, who‟d fight the whole world with me even if it was a losing battle. It was difficult, back then, before it was okay to be out. If I‟d known someone like you… But it wasn‟t like that.”

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Richard flushed and averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed by his confessions as if they‟d come from somewhere deep and secret inside him. His jaw tightened, facial muscles working. “It‟s been a long time since I…at all. But I like this. Just touching, feeling you, if that‟s okay.” His eyes looked back to Paul‟s. “I don‟t want to be a disappointment.” “You‟re not. You‟re my hero.” Paul kissed Richard‟s forehead, relieved and let down at the same time. He never really knew what to expect, but he wasn‟t in a hurry. Most of the tumbles he‟d had couldn‟t get his clothes off fast enough. The encounter went from kissing to sex in under a minute. Already this was a courtship he wasn‟t used to. But Paul liked it. “Do you want to explore me? I‟m not shy.” Paul traced his fingers down Richard‟s neck, watching the skin prickle beneath. “I want to see you, to touch you. May I?” Paul dropped his hand to the waistband of Richard‟s boxers and toyed with the elastic, waiting for an answer. In answer, Richard nodded and grunted assent, already pushing down the front of Paul‟s shorts. His hand closed over Paul‟s cock tentatively, but after a moment his grip tightened. Richard stared at him as he stroked, his hips pushing toward Paul‟s hand in clear invitation. “Am I jumping the gun to ask for a second date already?” Paul felt his cheeks flush and shook his head. He wove his fingers through the fabric and circled Richard‟s cock. He stroked him, loving the warmth radiating from it and the way Richard‟s smooth fingers felt around his own. It had been a few months since anyone touched him. After the last debacle, he‟d almost given up. “I‟d love a second date. I guess since it‟s been a few days, I‟m not technically putting out on the first date.” Paul laughed and then moaned at the way Richard squeezed him. “That feels good.” “This isn‟t putting out.” Richard‟s chuckle was more a quiet huffing than a real laugh. “I‟ll know when you‟re putting out. It hasn‟t been that long.”

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Richard‟s grip twisted, his fingers spiraling around Paul‟s shaft as his palm bumped against the head, and he shifted closer to kiss Paul again, teasing his mouth with his tongue. His hips rocked to meet Paul‟s hand, practically begging for more. Before Paul could give it to him, Richard pulled away long enough to remove his boxers altogether before pressing naked and greedy against Paul for more kisses and touching. “I‟m touching your cock; you‟re touching mine. It‟s still sexual. Definitely past first base.” Paul grinned and pulled off his boxer briefs to kick them off the side of the bed. “Hang on. I want to look at you.” Paul scooted back, releasing Richard‟s cock but maintaining contact with the tips of his fingers. Richard‟s cock had a slight lean to the right but was beautiful, just like his body. He was well defined but not bulky. It was obvious he‟d maintained himself very well and didn‟t rely on genetics. “You have a great body, you know. And a sexy face. The most beautiful smile.” Richard‟s eyes widened at the praise, his head ducking to one side as if there was anywhere to hide. A mischievous grin spread across his features as he rolled over and rose to all fours to crawl across the arm‟s length Paul had put between them. “I‟m not bad for an old guy.” Richard leaned down to kiss him, strong hands pulling Paul‟s body up the bed until his head nestled on the pillows propped against the headboard. The blanket was still messy where Richard must have left it in his haste to come to Paul‟s rescue. Slowing his kisses without stopping, Richard pulled at the sheet and covers, his bare body settling atop Paul‟s as he wrapped them in their softness. Then Richard said, “My turn,” and his kisses started moving lower, down Paul‟s jaw, sucking at his throat. Richard‟s lips closed over one of Paul‟s nipples, teeth nipping at the tiny bud before nibbling down his stomach, Richard‟s silver head disappearing farther under the blankets.

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Paul pressed his lips together. He could feel his whole body flush with arousal as Richard moved down his body, trailing kisses that cooled in the slight chill of the room. He wasn‟t going to push, but he was pretty sure of where Richard was going. He thought it was incredibly cute that Richard was hiding under the blankets to look. Letting his legs relax so his toes turned outward, he felt Richard‟s body moving between his legs as his lips paused over his abdomen. His scruff burned pleasantly, followed by the sharp scrape of teeth on his hip bone. Paul moaned, closing his eyes to enjoy the sensation of Richard touching him. His hands eased down Paul‟s thighs, gripping them to push them farther apart. Paul‟s cock brushed against the stubble of what Paul assumed was Richard‟s neck, and he shivered, bending his knees slightly so he could press his feet against the mattress. “So beautiful,” Richard said, his lips moving against Paul‟s hip as he spread Paul‟s thighs still wider. Richard‟s body shifted down even more, his head and shoulders lifting to create hills and valleys in the blanket draped over them. Even without looking, it was obvious what Richard was staring at, and that he didn‟t move or speak as the seconds dragged past made it obvious he was really staring. Then Richard‟s weight shifted, the mattress dimpling under Paul‟s body as Richard leaned in, and his hot mouth pressed kisses along the underside of Paul‟s cock where it stretched up across his flat stomach. The soft kisses turned into a long swipe of tongue from base to tip, and then Richard‟s hand wrapped around him and squeezed, pulling Paul‟s cock as he lapped at its head experimentally. Paul moaned loudly with each wet stroke of Richard‟s tongue, at the warmth of his breath, at his fingers fluttering over his shaft. Being looked at had been extraordinarily erotic, to know Richard was gazing at him, thinking about those secret parts of Paul so few had seen. Knowing he‟d been accepted as he was, as a man, almost made Paul want to sob with relief. But the way Richard was tonguing his cock, how he‟d begun to

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submerge the tip into the luxuriant warmth of his mouth, took over all of Paul‟s senses, leaving him writhing against the bed, trying hard not to grab Richard by the back of the head to fuck his mouth mercilessly. No, Paul wanted to give Richard room to play, to experiment, to take it at his own pace—even if it was torture to wait, to keep himself in check against instinct. “So good,” Paul said, fisting his hands into the pillow behind his head. He bit his lip as he realized he‟d brought his legs up again and forced himself to relax them against the bed. “Do you like it?” Richard lifted his mouth from Paul‟s cock long enough to answer a quiet affirmative and then lowered it again to suck him in farther, seeming emboldened by Paul‟s vocal enjoyment. Richard‟s free hand roamed over Paul‟s stomach, fingertips tracing along the definition lines, and then up to his chest to pinch his nipple as more of Paul‟s cock sank into Richard‟s mouth. The sounds of slurping and the pop of suction releasing as Richard drew ragged breaths seemed loud in the mostly bare room with not so much as a ceiling fan to provide some white noise. There was only the sound of the bed creaking and Richard‟s mouth, Richard‟s breath, and Paul‟s responses. Then Richard stopped and cleared his throat, sitting back on his knees and pulling the blanket away from over his head. His expression was simultaneously sheepish and exhilarated, and he cleared his throat again before asking, “You think we could both…at once?” “I thought you‟d never ask.” Paul knew he had a goofy grin on his face. He was so heady with arousal by then, he would‟ve done anything Richard wanted. He let Richard lie down first and then crawled over him, staying up on his knees till Richard settled him into a position he could manage. Facing Richard‟s abs, his cock curved, the tip glistening with want, Paul sank onto his body to suck the length into his mouth. His tongue swiped over the tip, stealing the moisture. He savored the tang. Steadying Richard‟s cock with one hand,

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he used the other to experimentally toy with his balls, testing how sensitive they were so he was sure he wouldn‟t hurt him. Richard‟s hips arched, and he let out a long, gratifying moan, his thighs spreading wide to give Paul room to touch. Richard‟s hands gripped Paul‟s ass, kneading it as his head lifted from the pillow to mouth Paul‟s cock. He sucked it in slowly at first, but then as Paul‟s mouth took more of Richard‟s cock, Richard‟s mouth took more of Paul‟s in perfect reciprocation. Beneath Paul‟s body, Richard shivered as if overwhelmed, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his gasping breaths. Ah, right there. Paul loved that Richard had given himself over to the sensations, not questioning, not overthinking; he‟d let go, following Paul‟s lead. He was pretty sure Richard couldn‟t follow everything Paul was going to do—that took some practice—but as turned on as Paul was being sucked off by this gorgeous man, this gorgeous wonderful man he liked, really liked, liked as a person, he didn‟t need to be balls-deep in his mouth to get off. Relaxing his throat, he took Richard all the way in, deep inside him, and then bobbed his head, flicking his tongue where he could. He loved being so full of Richard that he could gag. Richard‟s cock scraped the back of his throat. Paul would probably be rasping for a while. He wanted it, wanted to taste him as well as feel their connection. Richard was inside him as he was inside Richard. It felt like they were a circuit moving toward some perfect goal. All Paul could think was that he wanted more. More of Richard, more of this connection, of their bodies together. He wanted to feel him come, wanted to taste it, wanted to know he could do this to him, that Paul wasn‟t an experiment, but someone Richard wanted, really wanted and wouldn‟t throw away or ignore later. If Richard‟s mouth couldn‟t keep up with Paul‟s, it tried, sloppily, without grace or skill, but with willingness that was impossible to miss. Richard‟s lips formed a tight seal around Paul‟s shaft, but his hand wrapped around the base when Paul got too enthusiastic, keeping him only as deep as Richard could handle.

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Richard‟s thrusts into Paul‟s mouth grew more desperate, his whole body thrashing against the bed as he groaned around Paul‟s cock. When Paul sucked harder, lips pressing against Richard‟s skin so the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickled his chin, Richard‟s mouth pulled away from Paul‟s erection so he could draw a full breath. Richard twisted beneath Paul to crane around to watch what Paul was doing to him. “Oh fuck. Oh God.” Richard groaned and shuddered, his hips bucking toward Paul‟s face as if there was anywhere to go. “I can‟t hold on. I‟m going to come.” Paul continued, so excited by the noises Richard made, enthralled with the way he struggled for more. He thought briefly about whether it was safe to swallow or not, but really, Richard hadn‟t been around, and Paul didn‟t think he‟d lie about it if he had. Locking eyes with Richard, Paul bobbed faster until he felt the twitch in Richard‟s cock. He swallowed rapidly, working to take it all down. It must have been a long time for Richard, very pent up, because he came so hard, with so much velocity, Paul gagged. He pumped the rest of the spunk from Richard‟s cock with his hand. Lowering his face, Paul let the remainder of it spray onto his face and then nuzzled the head to smear it over his skin. Richard watched him as if dazed, not speaking, barely blinking, staring until he collapsed back against the pillow. His body was dewy with sweat, his face lax and soft with a smile curving his parted lips as he tried to catch his breath. He moaned as he reached for Paul, barely seeming coherent but determined to get Paul‟s cock back to his lips. Richard‟s hands pushed and pulled until Paul got the idea and turned around to straddle Richard‟s chest, and Richard propped pillows behind him before pulling Paul‟s cock with both hands and sucking the head with coordination all the more impressive for how out of it he seemed. When Richard‟s eyes finally focused on Paul‟s spunk-streaked face, he smiled even wider, his mouth stretching obscenely around Paul‟s cock, cheeks hollowing as

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he sucked. One hand rose to touch Paul‟s wet face, the other hand guiding more of Paul‟s cock past his lips. It was so incredible to see Richard like this, to see his lips wrapped around him, his brown eyes gazing up at him in a mixture of heady afterglow and lust. Paul fed him his cock slowly, watching the way his lips moved around him, luxuriating in the warmth of his mouth. Paul bit his bottom lip, moving his hips to fuck him shallowly, edging in more each time until it was obvious Richard couldn‟t take any more. Knowing his limit, Paul grabbed the headboard and rocked with Richard‟s mouth, watching the way he took him, his hand on the base of his cock. This was the first time Richard had done this, and he was doing it for him. Paul felt a glow and a strong surge of possessiveness as he fucked Richard‟s mouth. Sweat broke out on his body, rolling down his back as he started to tremble. He gasped for breath, hissing and letting out loud groans as he got close. “I‟m going to come. Where do you want me to?” Richard‟s wide, clueless eyes made it plain he‟d never considered the question. His brow furrowed then, a stubborn light coming into his eyes, and he grinned as well as he could around his mouthful of dick. Richard‟s hand tightened, and then his other arm wound behind Paul to pull him closer as he gazed up at him, already gagging and spluttering but struggling to take more. Paul bit his lip and looked down at him, wincing. “Are you sure? I‟ve been tested, but there‟s still a window. Not that I did anything without protection.” It was going to be a matter of record if he didn‟t slow down or pull out, but Richard didn‟t seem to want Paul to do either. After giving him one last searching look, Paul felt the shudder go down his spine, jerking him involuntarily into a hard, shuddering release that left him gasping for breath and groaning. Sucking air noisily through his nose, Richard let the cum fill his mouth and overflow down his chin, onto his neck, his chest. As Paul‟s shuddering slowed, Richard held his mouth open wide, milking the last drops onto his outstretched

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tongue with his hand, gazing up at him with open adoration. When Paul finished, Richard pulled him on top of him to kiss him deeply, seeming desperate to get closer to him, moaning into his mouth as he sucked at Paul‟s bottom lip. Paul kissed him desperately, sharing his taste with him, tasting himself on Richard‟s lips. He kissed him so fiercely and so hard he‟d forgotten to breathe. He lapped his cum from the corners of Richard‟s lips and down his chin and neck. “God, that was so…” Paul felt hot, sticky with sweat, and smeared with cum, but also overwhelmed with how perfect this was. It felt right in ways he hadn‟t felt before. Gazing into Richard‟s eyes, Paul said, “It was perfect. So completely perfect. I‟m not going to be dense and ask if you liked it, because you obviously did on some level. I‟m so happy you shared that with me. It doesn‟t commit you to anything you don‟t want it to, but I hope you want to do it again as much as I do.” Richard blinked lazily at Paul, a thoughtful little frown on his face. “Perfect? Really?” The frown turned into a shy smile that seemed out of place on Richard‟s sharp face. “Well, we do have a second date coming up. I wouldn‟t object to staging an encore performance.” Richard kissed him again and started licking him clean, his hands moving over Paul‟s body as if memorizing him, squeezing and stroking, one fingertip tracing down every knob of Paul‟s spine. “Yeah, perfect. I think. I mean, you know, for me.” Paul realized he was babbling. “I felt close to you, I guess. Like maybe I can trust you. Like, really trust you.” Then Paul felt a stab of dread that maybe he wasn‟t enough—not for his mother, not for his father, certainly not for a lover. He pushed it away, but it must‟ve shown on his face, because Richard gave him a look of concern. “I‟m sorry. It‟s habit. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It‟s not you or anything you‟ve done. It‟s the pattern.” Paul wrapped his arms tightly around Richard. “I need to learn to take things as they come.”

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“I‟m not going anywhere, Paul.” Richard‟s voice was so gentle it was barely audible, the kind of tone he‟d probably used on Kyle when he was a kid. Richard‟s arms held Paul as tight as Paul was holding him. “Listen to me, sweet boy. I have lived here for years. I have worked the same job my entire adult life. I‟m not fickle. There is no hidden agenda. My baggage is well-known to you. What you see is what you get.” Richard nuzzled Paul‟s face and peppered soft kisses along his jawline. “If this wasn‟t serious for me, you wouldn‟t be in my bedroom. If I wanted to use you, I‟d have let you do this in the car and then driven you home. I don‟t have half of what I want from you yet.” Paul closed his eyes and smiled, nodding. He was trying to internalize it. Richard was a completely different animal from what he‟d ever experienced. That was why he wanted to be with him. That and because he was hot. The job, the money, and the rest of it he only cared about insofar as it meant Richard could be depended on. “So I can stay the night? Not that I have any way of getting back on my own. Shit. My bike.” Paul grimaced. He would probably be really upset about it the next day, but at the moment all he could feel about it was a vague sense of loss. Mostly he was relishing the affection. “Please stay.” Richard stroked the side of Paul‟s face with his fingertips, the touch and the look on his face unmistakably reverent. “I‟m really what you want, Richard? I mean, I realize it‟s as far as you can tell, but you don‟t feel like you‟re settling for me? Part of me wants to say something cheesy about the universe setting you in my path.” “I want you so much. I don‟t know how to explain it when I can barely admit it to myself. But tonight, when you needed me, I felt it in my gut that you were mine, like it was my job to protect you.” Richard exhaled shakily and rolled Paul under him, one hand grabbing at the tangled covers to pull them over them as he pressed Paul into the bed and gazed at

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him. Richard kissed him with tender lips, his tongue sliding alongside Paul‟s. When he spoke again, it was a sigh. “I want you to be mine.” “It‟s not really your job to…” Paul trailed off because in truth, he wanted to be Richard‟s. He wanted someone to care for and protect him. He played his hands over Richard‟s back and exhaled, letting himself really feel it. “I want you to be mine too. I don‟t want you to take care of me. I want to protect you too. I want to make you happy.” “Oh you do.” Richard smiled and kissed him again, his arms burrowing under Paul‟s back to hold him as he settled in, his legs between Paul‟s, his weight resting on him heavily. “I don‟t remember the last time I was happy like this.” Richard reached over to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, the only source of illumination in the room. Reaching the switch, he nearly fell over, and when he collapsed back on top of Paul, he was laughing quietly. In the sudden darkness, Richard was everywhere, enveloping Paul. Richard‟s breath was hot against his neck. “I‟ll make breakfast for you, and you can ride into the city with me and figure out what to do from there. Maybe we can have lunch together? I don‟t know. Is that uncool? I don‟t want to be needy, but it‟s been a long time, and I can‟t promise I won‟t get intense at you.” “I don‟t mind if you get intense at me.” Paul could see Richard‟s outline in the dark. He was shades of blue now, but still so beautiful to him. “I‟m not used to anyone wanting to spend so much time with me who doesn‟t want me to help them pick up women.” Paul nuzzled Richard‟s face. “So will breakfast and lunch be second and third dates? Or shall we make a whole day of it and have dinner? Maybe do something lame like go see a movie. Normal things couples do that don‟t involve rescuing your love interest from his father.” “I‟d like to see a movie. I haven‟t been to the movies in years.” Richard cringed so hard at the admission Paul could feel his body flinching. “I‟ve been such a loser.

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Home every night by seven thirty unless I work late. Hitting the gym to destress instead of having any kind of fun. Maybe having a few glasses of wine when it‟s dire. No friends, really, outside of work.” “Right, because my dad‟s a real winner with his whoring around, never having kept a real job, and being high all the time.” Paul smoothed his hands over Richard‟s body. “Our definitions of loser are radically different. You were in love. Or at least you loved her. That‟s something real. You felt something, and you committed to someone. That‟s why I love you.” “I…” Richard inhaled deeply, and then his mouth was on Paul‟s, demanding and hungry. He clung hard enough to hurt, rolling them onto their sides, facing each other before Richard threw his leg over Paul‟s hip and hooked his foot back between Paul‟s knees. “I love you too.” Paul didn‟t even realize he‟d said it out loud until Richard was repeating it. Then he felt timid. He‟d never said it to anyone before and meant it. Not like this. He couldn‟t remember ever having it repeated to him. “Speaking of scaring people off with their intensity…” Paul couldn‟t help beaming, though. “I‟d hoped to save that for at least the third date, but it sounds like it wasn‟t tragic. You love me? You really do? I guess you do if I‟m yours; you want me to be yours. I‟ve never heard it before. Say it again?” “I love you, Paul.” Richard kissed him again, crushing their bodies together. A few moments into the kiss, a stray drop of moisture landed on Paul‟s face, then another, and Richard pulled away hastily, his body tense. Paul touched his face and checked his hand like he was worried it was blood. “Richard? Is everything okay?” It took him a moment to realize Richard might be crying. Paul pulled him closer and kissed his face, whispering between each kiss, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Richard let Paul pull him down to rest beside him again and buried his face in Paul‟s shoulder. “I wasn‟t always this broken.” Richard rubbed his mouth along

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Paul‟s jaw and curled around him. “I used to be so strong. I never cried over stupid things.” Richard exhaled his frustration. The air ruffled Paul‟s hair with its force. “Sometimes you don‟t realize you‟ve lost your hope until you find it again, and the relief is…” “It‟s not a stupid thing. Not a stupid thing at all. Sometimes I feel like crying too. Right now I feel like running to your rooftop and yelling so your neighbors all know. But crying too. I could cry. I‟m so happy, Richard. You‟re my hope too.” Paul let happiness settle into his psyche. He really was happy. And he had felt like he couldn‟t find someone. “We‟re two sides of the same coin. We had to be together; this was fate, don‟t you think?” “I don‟t know. Maybe it is.” Richard swallowed audibly, but he didn‟t pull away. “People are going to know now, though. After your dad and all those people saw, heard… They aren‟t credible sources, but once people ask, it‟s not like I can deny you.” Richard laughed and kissed Paul again and again, sounding genuinely happy it wouldn‟t be a secret, as much as they both had to know it would complicate things. “I think you give those burnouts too much credit. They won‟t know who you are. What they will know is that I have a boyfriend who is hot, sexy, and knows how to work a stick shift.” Paul nuzzled Richard‟s face. “But I don‟t want this to be a secret. I think it would be better if we told them. Kyle has little interest in my social life most of the time, but even he‟s going to realize I‟m not around as much.” “It‟s going to be news if your dad remembers and thinks he can milk your new situation for attention, and I‟d rather get it out there on my terms before he decides my interest in you has anything to do with his sorry, saggy old ass.” Richard snorted and curled around Paul closer in the darkness, stifling a yawn in Paul‟s shoulder. “I wish I could call in, but I‟m not sure wanting to stay in bed with you until noon is a valid reason.”

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“I guess that means I should let you sleep.” Paul closed his eyes, surprised by how sleepy he really was, even among the excitement. Or maybe because of it. He drifted off thinking about what tomorrow with Richard was going to be like.

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Chapter Five Glancing at his watch, Richard sighed and considered whether he could keep his usual workout today with lunchtime looming. Two seconds later, he decided that was wishful thinking. He ached in ways he couldn‟t remember his trainer ever accomplishing with exercise. Plus, he thought as he looked at the in-box on his desk, he really should do a working lunch today. Richard had accomplished less than nothing. He was pretty sure he‟d actually set things back more this morning than he had moved them forward. There was too much paperwork, too many reports to review and decisions to make. When his head wasn‟t in the game, when it was the endless appointments and meetings to hear results and look at charts, he couldn‟t help hating his job. His was not the glamorous job his son seemed to think it was; he was upper management at an import/export company, which could have been exciting, but instead of being one of the hotshots who regularly traveled the world to cultivate new business and maintain established contacts, Richard spent all day at his desk in the scenic corner office in Back Bay where he‟d spent most of the last decade. Rubbing his temples, he kicked back in his desk chair and propped his feet on the gleaming wood next to his mouse pad. Everyone could tell something was wrong. For the first time in ages, he‟d been an hour late getting in. If that hadn‟t been enough to tip them off, the daydreaming would have. Most days his fantasies at work were along the lines of “someday when Kyle can stand on his own, I’ll do the traveling” followed by a brief visit to a travel Web site to admire the pictures of local cuisine and nightlife in Brazil or India or Egypt. That morning his fantasies had been of Paul, and they had not been brief: Paul on

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his knees in the shower, his matter-of-fact words, “I’m a conservationist, Richard; you’re wasting water showering alone,” and the way he‟d swallowed Richard to the root and gazed up at him with water-glazed eyelashes, looking so much like he loved doing it. Richard had thought about how quiet he‟d been, how awkward he‟d felt not knowing whether it had meant anything to Paul, and how when Paul touched him, when Paul made him come again and rose to kiss him with Richard‟s spunk still on his tongue, Richard had been helpless to resist him. “Cynthia?” Richard rose on impulse, desperate to break the hold of his vivid imaginings before he lost another hour of the day. “Could you order me a salad?” Richard stopped in his tracks as he opened his office door to see Paul standing by Cynthia‟s desk wearing his tiny bike shorts, his long, curvy-muscled legs and that high, perfect ass more emphasized than concealed. For a moment, Richard thought he was fantasizing again, but then Paul looked up. Richard stared. “Mr. Lynch, this young man says he‟s bringing you your lunch, but I told him you didn‟t order anything.” Cynthia twisted a long, dark curl around her finger, smiling shyly as she looked back up at Paul. “He always orders through me, so I‟d know if he did. But as I was saying, if you tell me who you‟re delivering for, I‟ll be sure to call them next time.” She bit her lip and leaned forward, obviously trying to use her cleavage to entice Paul. Not that it mattered, because Paul wasn‟t looking at her. Once he‟d caught sight of Richard, he beamed and picked up the brown paper bag from the counter. “I tried telling her I wasn‟t a delivery boy.” Paul looked around self-consciously, not noticing the tall man behind him clearly checking out his ass with intense interest. Paul stepped forward, holding the bag out. “It‟s turkey on rosemary sourdough. I know it‟s a lot of carbs, but I figured you could afford them after this morning‟s workout.”

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Louis Patton, the man who ran the company‟s legal team, was checking out Paul‟s posterior. He let out a low whistle. “Oh, now I see. Richard, you old dog.” Richard‟s initial shock turned into jealous irritation. “Shut up, Louis, and stop staring.” Louis‟s presence outside his office sank in, and Richard felt a moment‟s panic. “Uh, everyone, inside. Come on.” He held open his office door and gestured to the three of them to come in before anyone else could notice what was going on. He shut the door behind them, locked it, and then returned to his chair. He held out his hand across his desk to Paul, unable to resist the urge to touch him. “I wasn‟t expecting to see you so soon.” Richard gazed at Paul, caught up in his magnetic pull, unable to look away until Louis cleared his throat. Then Richard dropped Paul‟s hand and turned to face his assistant and the lawyer, doing his best not to look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Listen, Cynthia, Lou…this is private, okay? I haven‟t told my son that I‟m dating again, and it‟s a sensitive situation. I need you to keep this quiet until further notice. On which note, Lou, why did you drop by? Is this about last night? Did Bruce talk?” Cynthia stared at her shoes, looking more than mildly disappointed. “I always want the gay ones,” she muttered. Louis held his hand up. “No, no, not about that anyway. Apparently he was attacked by a gang of meth heads last night.” He took another quick look at Paul and smirked. “I was coming by for lunch to get the story on what inspired that call, but it looks like I‟ve got my answer. So hello, my name is Louis. I am also an older man.” Paul looked up at Louis as if he was surprised that there was someone in the room aside from Richard. “Nice to meet you, Louis.” While Paul shook Louis‟s hand, Paul looked over at Richard, his brows up in question as to how he was supposed to respond to such a weird introduction. “I came by to bring Richard some lunch. I didn‟t know he had plans. He didn‟t mention it

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this morning. I thought maybe he‟d have to work through lunch since I made him late.” Richard‟s cheeks flushed at the look Louis gave him as Paul delivered his last line. Still, as awkward as it was, Richard couldn‟t help sitting straighter as he looked at Paul. “Thanks, Paul. That‟s so thoughtful.” Richard gave Paul a private little smile and then glanced to Louis, mouth flattening. “We‟re exclusive, Louis.” “You‟re so selfish, Dick.” “I am, and my name is Richard, thanks.” “Yeah, yeah, tell it to your lawyer.” Louis smirked, and Richard couldn‟t help but laugh. “I‟d give you points for cleverness if you didn‟t use that line every time we disagree.” Richard looked back to Paul and stage whispered, “You see what I have to put up with?” Paul smiled and extracted his hand from Louis‟s grasp. “He seems very handson.” “And how,” Cynthia added, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I‟m glad for you, Mr. Lynch. I‟ve been waiting for you to come out for a while now. All the guys I find attractive are invariably gay, so I knew it was just a matter of time.” Richard gave Cynthia a look of consternation. “Does that include me?” Louis asked before Richard could say anything. Cynthia laughed and smacked his arm. “You‟re an opportunist.” “You should meet my father, Louis.” Paul shot a look at Richard and grinned. Richard started to protest that this didn‟t make him gay gay, that he hadn‟t always been this gay, but then he remembered how amazing it had felt when Paul was straddling his chest and fucking his mouth, the way Richard had nursed every drop onto his tongue like he‟d die without it. Eyes going hazy and unfocused, he let

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his mind wander a moment. Then, clearing his throat, he pushed the thought aside and gave his assistant a pretend glare. “So this is your fault, Cynthia. Did you upset a voodoo priestess? A reliable source, by which I mean my TV, tells me that‟s a good way to get cursed.” Looking at Louis, Richard whispered, “Can I sue?” Then, tired of the jovial mood and unable to ignore how badly he needed to be touching Paul, Richard rose and rounded the desk. One arm gestured to the door, silently inviting them to go, and the other he held out to Paul. “I‟ll hold your calls,” said Cynthia. Louis made a gun with his finger and shot it at Richard, giving him a wink. As he closed the door behind him, he looked at Paul, turning the gun into a phone gesture, and mouthed, Call me. “It‟s not really a curse,” said Paul as he stood. “Is it?” “It‟s only a curse for her. It‟s the best thing that‟s happened to me.” Paul wrapped his arms around Richard. “I was going to drop it off in case you were busy. I didn‟t want you to skip—fuck. I wanted to see you. I‟m not good at lies.” Richard sighed and turned until he could sit on a clear part of his desk, pulling Paul to stand between his thighs as he hugged him close. Richard breathed deeply of Paul‟s scent, his soap, the sweat from his bike ride. He bit back a moan and thanked God that his cock didn‟t get hard as fast now as it once had. “I can‟t believe you‟re really here. I was thinking about you all morning.” “I was thinking about you all morning too. Well, after a nap where I dreamed about you.” He clung to Richard, melting into the contact. “I promise I‟m not usually this codependent. I‟m sure I‟ll be able to leave you to a full day‟s work eventually.” Paul pulled away enough to look at him. “I want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you being there for me last night. And how much I like you. Both of those things.”

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“I like you too, Paul. I—” Richard flushed and raised his hands to cradle Paul‟s face, gazing into his eyes. “I want this to work. Last night, this morning, it meant a lot. Be as codependent as you want, but only with me.” Richard slid his fingers back to hook around Paul‟s nape and then pulled his face down into a kiss that Richard had intended to be sweet but quickly turned desperate. Paul‟s lips parted, and he kissed back as forcefully, gripping Richard‟s back. “You‟re the only one interested in it.” Paul clung and kissed Richard between words. “If this keeps up, you‟re going to have a standing lunch date, you know. People will talk.” “A standing lunch date makes me sound so inconsiderate.” Richard pulled Paul up into his lap, falling back across his enormous desk and sending a few files skittering to the floor. Ignoring them, he pulled Paul closer and kissed him again, whispering, “Reclining lunch date.” Paul laughed and arranged himself to straddle Richard‟s lap. “Maybe if I‟m going to show up here, I should get a suit so I look more native. I can slip in and sneak kisses, blending in with the rest of the office workers.” Sighing happily, Paul returned the kisses, caressing the side of Richard‟s face. “Does this count as a second date?” Richard‟s eyes narrowed playfully, although his heart beating faster was no joke. “A reliable source, meaning as always my TV, tells me that the third date has particular significance. Are you trying to achieve this milestone and claim your grown-up prom-night prize?” Paul blushed and averted his eyes. “Well, I mean, the TV is the TV. Nothing has to…you know, be claimed in any particular hurry. I mean, unless you‟re thinking about it. Are you thinking about it?” “I‟m not…not thinking about it, but it‟s difficult to wrap my head around.” Richard smiled at Paul‟s bashfulness, heartened he wasn‟t as aggressive about it as

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Richard had been afraid he might be. He kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “We can talk about it if you want, at length and in depth.” “At your work? On your desk? That would be a scandal having a long, hard, deep conversation right here while your poor assistant is out front fielding your phone calls.” Paul laughed and nuzzled Richard‟s face. “I like having dates with you. I like to think of us as dating. And exclusive, I liked that too. My exclusive date.” Paul pressed kisses all over Richard‟s face. “I‟m going to get overexcited if I don‟t stop soon.” Richard ran his hand down Paul‟s body to slip under his shirt hem and stroke his skin. “I can‟t be the only exec in Boston blatantly abusing the lunch hour and a private office to get personal with the delivery boy.” He dropped his hand though and shifted them off his desk onto their feet before kissing him again. “Another date tonight then?” “Another date on a school night? All right, let‟s do something quiet this time. And I promise to have you home at a decent hour. Let‟s do a movie?” Paul smiled and leaned in for another kiss after they sorted out the details.

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Chapter Six After work, Richard picked Paul up from outside of the apartment building and they drove out to a theater on the other side of town where they could hold hands without worrying about Kyle showing up. Dinner took up another hour, and by then it was late to drive out to Bedford and back, so Richard dropped Paul at his apartment. When Richard asked about a date the next night, Paul told him he‟d promised Kyle he‟d go out to the Thursday Dollar Well Drinks night at the dive bar a few blocks from their apartment called The Scene. Paul referred to it as “The Scene of the Crime.” He offered a casual invitation to the bar, but both laughed at the thought of Richard showing up while Kyle was on the prowl and agreed to another date Friday night. Thursday night, though, the house seemed too empty. Richard kept thinking of the night before, of holding hands in public and how they‟d hidden on the far side of town. He thought of being nervous dropping Paul off and picking him up because Kyle might look out the window or come walking up at the wrong moment. He really did need to tell Kyle, and the longer he put it off, the more likely it became he‟d lose his opportunity to choose how he found out. Though he was usually in bed by nine, Richard climbed back into the car at eight thirty still wearing the suit he‟d worn to work, minus only the tie. He drove to the dive Paul had told him about, his stomach twisting into knots almost as much because of his longing to see Paul as from his nervousness at how Kyle might react. After he parked, he sat in the car for a minute going over all the reasons this was

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the best way to do it: Kyle liked the place enough not to throw a huge fit; Kyle needed to know before he stumbled onto the knowledge; Paul was there. Holding on to those thoughts, Richard made his way inside, realizing as he entered that he hadn‟t been to a club in so long that this was his first time not being carded by a doorman. The noise and boozy stench hit him like a wave. Richard searched the length of the bar for the boys, before long spotting them sitting together on stools. Kyle was talking to a predictably scantily clad young woman, doing his smarmy best to charm her. Paul was talking to a beautiful blonde in a breezy white sundress—revealing without being scandalous, though a little out of place in the bar. Maybe it was just Richard‟s perspective, but she seemed to stand just a little too close to Paul. The way that she gazed at him, how focused she was on him knocked the wind from Richard‟s lungs. Maybe she was just a friend. She had to be just a friend. He was gay, right? Yet he seemed genuinely happy to be talking to her, smiling and gently brushing her hair back from her shoulder. Forgetting why he was there at all, Richard made his way through the crowd to the bar, shoving people out of his way when they wouldn‟t get out of the way fast enough on their own. A few yards away, Paul noticed him, their eyes meeting across the distance, and the way he lit up made Richard‟s chest relax. He could breathe again. “Hey, kids.” “What the fuck, Dad?” Kyle jumped off the stool. “I‟m sorry I didn‟t return your call… Wait, you haven‟t called lately. Why are you here?” Paul finished the bubbly clear liquid in his plastic cup and set it back on the counter. The blonde woman looked between Paul and Richard, brows furrowed, blue eyes wide and worried. Slipping from the stool, Paul took a step toward Richard, then paused and folded his arms like he needed to restrain himself. “Do you need a minute with Kyle? I can get you a drink.”

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“No, Paul.” Richard looked at Kyle‟s suspicious face, his wannabe funny T-shirt with the profane slogan, and sighed. Frowning, he reached out to squeeze Kyle‟s shoulder. “I wanted to see you. I‟ve left messages a few times, but you never replied, so I quit calling. This needs to be said in person anyway.” The look of apprehensive horror on Kyle‟s face did nothing to ease Richard‟s conscience. “Son, I think you‟re old enough now for us to talk to one another like men, like adults.” Kyle‟s eyebrows rose. “This is gonna be bad, isn‟t it?” “Maybe you‟ll think so, but I‟m hoping you‟ll be happy for me.” Richard paused significantly, his gaze moving to Paul‟s face, a smile forming just from looking at him. Then he looked back to Kyle, and his smile faded. “Whoa, wait…Dad…” Kyle squinted at him and stepped in closer, one hand coming up to push aside Richard‟s unbuttoned collar. Kyle‟s eyes went wide, and he snatched his hand away. “You‟ve got a hickey. It‟s fading, but that‟s a fuckin‟ hickey.” Richard cleared his throat. Maybe he should have put his tie back on before he left. “Dad, you got laid? What‟s it been, like ten million years?” Kyle‟s expression seemed to hover somewhere between disgust and pride. “About, yeah.” Richard hated that what he was about to say was going to turn Kyle‟s expression to full disgust. He glanced sidelong at Paul again, drawing courage from his presence. “So…is she hot? Was it a onetime thing? Are you dating again?” Richard looked at Kyle in time to see a look of selfless worry cross his face, and he couldn‟t remember the last time he‟d seen it; Kyle might have been nine. “It‟s not Mom, is it? You aren‟t…”

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“No, no.” Richard gave him a rueful smile. “It‟s uh…I‟m dating. It‟s exclusive. And uh, it‟s not a she. And I‟m sorry if this upsets you, but you‟re a grown man now, and you need to let me have my own life and be happy in it.” Richard paused to let that sink in. Then, before Kyle could do anything else, Richard reached out and took Paul‟s hand in his, twining their fingers as he tugged him to his side. Kyle‟s jaw dropped. His eyes widened with each revelation until his brows worked hard to meet his hairline. Then he closed his mouth, and his brows furrowed as he shook his head. “No, this is a joke, isn‟t it? I get it; call more. Right?” “Kyle, no. It‟s not a joke.” Paul patted Kyle on the shoulder, still holding Richard‟s hand. “Since when? God, I knew you were acting like my mother for a while. Is that why? Are you going to be my mother?” “God forbid,” Paul said as he stepped back. “I do not act like your mother. For one thing, I‟m not fucking anyone who has a platinum card.” He gave Kyle a tentative smile, like he was trying to appeal to him with humor. “Don‟t you say that about my mother.” Kyle squared his shoulders. “You said it about her yesterday.” Paul‟s smile faded, and he leaned against Richard for support. Kyle leaned in, bringing his face closer to Paul‟s. “Yesterday I didn‟t know you were plowing my dad.” He turned his glare to Richard. “What the fuck? Is this a midlife crisis?” The blonde girl stood on the fringe, watching Richard. She was so young, so pretty. Even though her expression betrayed little, Richard felt like she must be calculating his every flaw. Her jaw tensed briefly; then she reached for Kyle‟s arm to pull him back. Kyle didn‟t pull from her grasp, but he ranted on. “I mean, Dad, you‟re not even gay. And he‟s my roommate. Couldn‟t you have your…whatever…with some other guy?”

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“It‟s not a midlife crisis, Kyle. This suit, the gray hair, sedan in the parking lot? I‟m not afraid of getting old. I realized that even if your mother loved me again, what I really want is to move forward with my life.” She‟d apparently moved forward with hers, had been moving forward for years without him ever admitting it. He could see in Kyle‟s expression that there was relief mingled with the hurt. Apparently even Kyle knew that his father needed to move on. But moving on with his roommate… Richard sighed, knowing in his heart Kyle would need time—lots of time—to accept this, no matter what he said. He had to try though, to give Kyle something to hang on to while he absorbed it all. The woman tugged Kyle‟s arm again, and he took a step back. “Jesus.” Richard pressed on before Kyle could start up again. “I know the idea of your father having sex is disgusting to you. That it‟s a man is probably worse and causing you some kind of turmoil about gender and sexual identity. I‟m sorry about those things, and if I could have spared you, I would have, but Paul is too close to you for it to stay secret for long. If I‟d let you find out randomly, you‟d have thought I was ashamed. I‟m not. I‟m…happy.” Richard turned to look at Paul. He slid his arm around Paul‟s waist possessively, pulling him closer and praying what he was about to say didn‟t come back to haunt him. “Paul is a caring, attractive person who appreciates me. Maybe there are women, or men who aren‟t your friend, people my age who might do, but I want Paul, and he wants me. That you‟re friends with him isn‟t enough to make me pass up the first relationship in your lifetime that‟s made me feel like there‟s still hope for me.” “This is so fucking surreal, Dad.” Kyle ran his hand through his dark hair. “This is a nightmare.” The woman curled an arm around Kyle and whispered something in his ear. Her smile seemed to relax Kyle enough for him to smile back at her. There was

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wonder in the way he looked at her. With her cool demeanor and blonde hair, and Kyle with his dark hair and swagger, they could‟ve passed for Richard and Catherine in happier times. Richard tried not to be wistful. He and Catherine had grown into very different people, but he‟d loved her with everything in him when he was young. They had fit together so well once, she with her calm certitude of who she was and what she expected her place in the world to be, he with his wildness needing to be given a center, a focus for his disparate energies. Then she lost her focus, her certainty. She‟d gotten all that she thought she wanted only to find that it wasn‟t what she wanted after all. She‟d taken them down this path, and now both of them were lost. As much as Richard wanted to blame her for it, he‟d willingly followed. He hadn‟t known what else to do; she was the only person who‟d made the grueling climb up the corporate ladder seem worth it, who‟d made any of the things expected of him seem worth it. It had been a lot to hang on one person; maybe he‟d crushed her. Maybe she‟d never been as certain as she seemed. As Richard watched his son with the young woman, he realized that this was the first time in years he‟d been able to think so clearly about the matter. Maybe it was Paul‟s influence that helped him to see the truth of what he‟d once had without the bitterness of its loss robbing him of the ability to process it. The woman said something else to Kyle and grinned broadly. Whatever she‟d said apparently hurt, because tension rolled up his spine, and he glared at Paul. Paul frowned and tilted his head in appeal. “Come on, you‟ve been saying me and your father need to get laid for a while now.” Kyle snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, I know, but…this isn‟t… Damn. Does Mom know?” “It‟s not really her business anymore, is it?” Richard wanted to hug him, to hold on to the one good thing to come of all those years between being young and now, but if there was any chance Kyle still felt like hugging him, Richard couldn‟t

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imagine he would do it in a bar full of women he wanted to impress. Instead, he stood straighter and stroked Paul‟s hair. “Anyway, Kyle, it wasn‟t my plan to hang around all night frightening away the local wildlife; I wanted to talk to you, and Dollar Well Drinks night seemed like the best bet since God knows you don‟t pick up the phone.” Richard gave Kyle a soldier‟s smile, brave and impassive, to cover his uncertainty. Then he looked at Paul, and his smile softened. “You did tell me I could show.” “You invited him here?” Kyle shot Paul an accusatory look. “Anyway, I don‟t think I‟m in much of a mood for the local wildlife right now. This is really big, Dad. I mean…really big. Like…you owe me a Porsche big.” “Little shit,” said Paul. He smacked Kyle on the shoulder. “Ouch. So is the cost of me not picking up the phone my dad showing up and coming out at my bar? I mean, I was good. I went to the doctor. Damn, I should‟ve known when you gave him your number. Damn, this is weird.” Kyle grinned impishly. “I really think a Porsche would help.” Perhaps Kyle was teasing, using humor to offset his upset, but Richard was starting to suspect he wasn‟t. There was something sly in his son‟s eyes. The blonde girl had retreated to watch from the bar, her eyes now glued to Paul, who didn‟t appear to notice. Richard‟s chest ached, and he was suddenly aware he was up past his bedtime. He tried to take a deep breath, but the stale smoke and cheap cologne stench choked him. He needed to get outside, get away, get some sleep. Richard began pulling away from Paul, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. “I don‟t owe you anything, Kyle. If you don‟t like how I choose to live my life, you can go beg your mom for money instead and start footing your own bills. I‟m too old for this bullshit.” “Dad.” Kyle reached for Richard. Paul clutched Richard briefly and then followed him outside.

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Kyle and the blonde spilled out behind them. “Dad, I‟m sorry. I don‟t know what to say or think about this. I want to be happy for you, but I can‟t help it. I mean, he‟s my roommate, Dad. He‟s my age. All my life you weren‟t really around, and I thought you couldn‟t relate because I was too young. But now you‟re with my roommate, my best friend, and you like him better. You give me money, and I know you care, and so I don‟t know what to do, Dad. I don‟t know how to make this okay in my head. You came in and sprung this on me. I didn‟t even know you were gay.” Paul stepped back and gave Richard a light shove from behind to pitch Richard toward his son. “Hug him.” Richard didn‟t know what else to do besides hold out his arms and wrap them around Kyle tightly. It was strange; he‟d wanted to do this more times than he could count, but he‟d never had the courage. He hadn‟t thought Kyle would tolerate it. Then again, he‟d never tried. “It‟s not a liking him better thing.” Richard sniffed quietly, thumping Kyle‟s back as he held him as if it could make it seem less awkward. “I love you. You‟re still my Kyle, my sweet little boy. You‟ve been my life since the day you were born. But you have your life, and you‟ve made it plain you don‟t want me in it more than I have to be.” Richard pulled away reluctantly, not sure what to do from here. Kyle wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the ground. Guilt clawed at Richard, trying to find its way in. He couldn‟t tell if Kyle really wanted him around and he‟d never been there, or if Kyle was trying to use this as leverage to get a new car. It was sad not to know. After years of trying to be there and being rejected at every turn, it was hard for Richard to be sure this was sincere. Yet his love for his son was undeniable. That was one thing of which he was certain. Sighing, he reached out to ruffle Kyle‟s hair.

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“I wanted to give you this perfect world where all you had to do was wake up in the morning, make some basic choices, and find every effort met with success and approval. And I think that was the worst thing I could have ever done.” Kyle looked at him in obvious confusion. Richard shook his head and cupped Kyle‟s face in one hand, relishing this rare excuse for contact, these few moments where he still felt like someone‟s daddy and not some old man with a wallet. A tiny smile twitched up the corners of Richard‟s lips. “If you need me, I‟m still here, Kyle. I‟ll always be here. But from now on, you might want to call ahead before dropping by.” “Ew.” Kyle looked between Richard and Paul. Paul sidled up to Richard again and wrapped his arms around the older man‟s waist. Kyle shook his head and looked down. “So when are you going to tell Mom? I mean, he‟s not just my roommate; he‟s her ex-lover‟s son. And what‟s going to happen? Is he moving in with you?” “It‟s not her business, Kyle. She didn‟t tell me about Bruce in the first place, so it would serve her right if she didn‟t know about his son. Bruce, however, knows all about us.” The blonde stepped in then. “No, of course they‟re not going to move in together. Paul needs his space, and your father wouldn‟t want to deprive you of your roommate.” Masking his annoyance, Richard looked at the girl, sizing her up and wondering how much of his wariness was because she reminded him of Catherine and how much was legitimate. He held out his hand to her with as much charm as he could muster on the spot; if she was their friend, he should at least try to salvage this first impression. “I‟m Richard Lynch. I‟m sure it‟s a pleasure, Miss…” “Cooper, Madison Cooper.” She offered her hand and shook his briskly. Her eyes narrowed on Richard. “I‟m sure Paul‟s mentioned me. I see him all the time.

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I‟m really his best friend. I mean, outside of Kyle, of course. But I‟m sure he‟s told you all about me.” “She‟s his fruit fly,” said Kyle. He eyed Paul like a competitor. Paul frowned. “Yeah, I‟m sure I‟ve told you about Madison.” He rubbed the back of his neck and abruptly pulled Richard against him. “And there aren‟t any immediate plans for me to move anywhere. We‟ve only had a few dates; we‟re not getting married.” Madison looked between them. “But you‟re exclusive.” “Yes, exclusive. I don‟t think either of us are the sort to date more than one person at a time. We‟re seeing where things go. I‟m certainly not planning on being anyone‟s mom.” Paul grinned at Kyle and play kicked his foot. “Of course, Madison. I should have known. Forgive me.” Richard wrapped his arm around Paul in return, feeling out of his depth in a way he rarely experienced anymore. Repositioning him and Paul so he could look at Madison and Kyle at once without turning his head, he cleared his throat. “After what I went through in my marriage, I can‟t handle sharing. Paul understands my need for immediate exclusivity in a way few I‟ve met do. But it doesn‟t mean we‟re rushing into things, all right?” Richard fought the urge to overexplain; none of this was their business. Instead, he pressed his lips to Paul‟s temple to keep from speaking. “Yes, well, Paul‟s very sensitive. He gets hurt easily. He never tells anyone but me. I‟m the one who hears about it,” said Madison, looking between them. “But it‟s weird he hasn‟t mentioned you to me at all. I mean, I‟m sure he‟s exclusive. It‟s not like he‟s talking about anyone else. Guess it‟s not serious, then?” Paul squeezed Richard tight. “No, I wanted to tell you, Madison. But, you know, with Kyle and all, I couldn‟t out Richard before he was ready.” She nodded and smiled at Paul, but when his attention focused on Kyle again, she shot Richard a suspicious look.

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“So all of those late nights lately you‟ve been with him?” Kyle shook his head. “So fucking weird. How the fuck does your dad know?” “They met at an, uh, party. But I don‟t think Bruce knows who your dad was married to.” “You might say it‟s Bruce‟s fault we‟re together now.” Richard snorted and knocked his head against Paul‟s affectionately. He looked back to Kyle, expression steely. “He‟s not as cool as you think he is. If Paul wants to explain later, I‟ll let him, but I don‟t think my lawyer would like me talking about it in public.” Richard squeezed Paul closer and looked to Madison then. He could feel her possessiveness radiating at him like waves of heat from a bonfire. He had no idea what was going on with her, what her relationship was like with Paul, but her anger was triggering competitiveness in him. The hint of steel he‟d directed at Kyle grew into something unmistakable as he looked at her. “You really should get used to Paul keeping secrets, Miss Cooper. I expect discretion from a lover, and I‟m afraid I don‟t make exceptions for second best friends.” She narrowed her eyes. “Oh sure, he‟s discreet. That‟s why people think they can walk all over him. I‟ll be the one here after you‟re done with your little adventure, picking up his pieces when you decide whatever this is has been fun but you‟re finished with him.” “Maddy!” Paul shook his head. “What the hell? Don‟t talk to him like that.” He turned to Richard. “I‟m sorry, she‟s usually not like that. I‟ve never seen her… I guess she‟s a little protective.” Kyle slipped his arm around Madison‟s shoulders. “Come on, Mads. You can pick up my pieces.” She looked at Kyle sidelong. Something in her eyes glimmered before she said, “Did you hear back from the clinic yet?” Kyle‟s smile dissolved into an angry expression directed at Paul. “Dude, do you tell her everything?” Paul shrugged and gestured to Richard. “Obviously not.”

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She poked Kyle‟s side. “No, he didn‟t tell me about that either. I just see you going home with a lot of women.” She shot Richard a look. “And I spend a lot of time at your apartment with Paul, so I know you‟re not there.” Kyle folded his arms. “Maybe I‟m looking for the right girl to come home with me.” She pointed at the dive. “You‟re not going to find the right girl there. That‟s where the right girls go when they want to be wrong girls. They‟re not in there looking for a nice guy either!” “You go there.” Kyle smirked. “Are you being a wrong girl?” She fussed with the strap of her dress. “I go there to see Paul.” Kyle pointed at Paul. “He‟s not there to find the right girl either. He‟s not there to find any girl.” “No, Kyle, he waits for you to introduce him to your dad,” she shot back. “I think you‟re really there to see what I‟m up to.” “Yeah, I just love watching you go home with women wearing beer goggles effective enough to think you‟re worth their time!” Paul leaned in to whisper into Richard‟s ear. “The sexual tension between them is killing me.” Despite all his misgivings about her similarities to Catherine, he couldn‟t deny that the two seemed to have something. Richard suppressed a laugh and whispered back, “Is that what that is?” Richard debated between going home alone and going back inside for a drink with Paul. If he‟d been twenty-five years younger, he‟d have suggested they go to an all-night diner to eat heart-attack burgers and drink black coffee sludge until everything made sense again. He looked between Kyle and Madison‟s too-familiar bickering and Paul‟s sweetly oblivious expression.

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“I‟m too old for these dramatics to be entertaining,” he said to Paul in a mischievous undertone. “Quick, kiss me so they quit fighting with each other and start fighting with us.” “I have a better idea. Let‟s make a break for it. You take me home, and we snuggle the rest of the night. I promise not to make you late to work again, but you might wake us up twenty minutes earlier to ensure I keep that promise.” “Night, kids.” Richard waved at Madison and Kyle and then grabbed Paul by the hand, dragging him along after him toward where he‟d parked the Jag. He heard Kyle call out behind him, but Richard ignored it except to yell over his shoulder, “You‟ve got my number.” Then he broke into a run, laughing and glancing over at Paul as his expensive shoes skidded on the gravel in front of the car. Richard unlocked it quickly and slid in, firing up the engine before anyone could ruin this perfect plan. He reversed out of the parking spot and then fished in his coat to toss his phone at Paul. “Change the alarm now, before I can forget. If you set it thirty minutes early, I‟ll return the favor in the shower this time.”

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Chapter Seven Somehow, despite the alarm going off thirty minutes early and Richard having stayed up later than usual, it hadn‟t been difficult at all to get out of bed and into the shower for some early-morning playtime. If he could keep Paul with him, he‟d never regret waking up, because the reality of Paul was better than any dream he‟d ever had. Then again, he couldn‟t keep Paul with him, because they weren‟t living together, they weren‟t getting married, and they barely knew each other. That thought brought Richard back to his desk, his computer, and the excruciatingly polite Korean man sitting a few feet away explaining why Richard should be importing his goods. After another half hour of profit-vs.-risk discussions, shipping cost calculations, and contract evaluations, Richard was finally alone. He considered the gym, but as so often lately, he didn‟t have the energy; the sense of pent-up testosterone that had propelled him to his workouts every lunch hour for years was gone. Now all he felt was a sense of profound relaxation. Richard hit a button. “Cynthia, I‟m eating in my office. Will you order grilled salmon for me from the place on the corner? You know the one.” “Oh, Mr. Lynch, yes, sir, but you have a guest, sir.” “A guest? Send him in.” Richard grinned broadly, straightened his tie, and rose to greet Paul before the door had opened, all set for some more kissing on the desk. “Sir, it‟s—” Before Cynthia could finish, the door flew open and Madison stood in the doorway in a cream suit with matching bag and shoes. She‟d accented her suit with turquoise that brought out her eyes. Obviously she‟d gone to great pains to dress as

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if she belonged there. If he hadn‟t recognized her from the other night, he would‟ve taken her for a very stylish new hire. Madison smiled as she stepped through the door, not waiting for an invitation. She was forward, confident. Once again, Richard was struck with her resemblance to a young Catherine. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Lynch. I thought it was time for us to have a talk.” Madison shut the door behind her and locked it with a click. Richard raised his brows but chose to see where she was going with her visit. “A talk?” She took the same seat as his previous visitor and looked similarly keen to strike a bargain. “Mr. Lynch, I know your time is valuable and you have lunch on the way, so I‟ll get to the point quickly.” To facilitate that, he took a seat at his desk and adopted his best “I‟m listening” pose. She was coming on strong; if she were a client, he might‟ve held out, played the game a bit. As this was Kyle‟s and Paul‟s friend, he dispensed with the usual tactics. “It‟s no problem. Have you had lunch?” She appeared taken aback and tilted her head. “Are you…inviting me to lunch?” Richard couldn‟t read her expression. She looked angry, but he couldn‟t imagine why lunch would irritate her. “I was just ordering in. My day is packed. I wouldn‟t be so rude as to eat in front of you without extending the option of joining me.” “So it wasn‟t an invitation?” Her eyes narrowed again, and it sank in finally what she was getting at. “No.” Now that he understood this was a test, he decided to keep his answers short. “Because, you know, it‟s obvious you like younger people.” Her face was a carefully blank mask, though Richard could tell she was trying to provoke him.

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It made it doubly important that he keep his cool. “I like Paul. Other than my son, he‟s the only younger person in my life.” She gestured at the door beyond which Cynthia sat. “Very attractive secretary, though.” “Assistant. And yes, she is. Very capable too, which is why she was hired.” Madison nodded and then looked over her shoulder as if she could see Cynthia through the polished wood. “I‟m sure she is.” Richard stood. He knew he was falling into her trap, but it was one thing to insult him and another to drag his assistant into it. “If you‟re just here to stir up trouble and insinuate nasty things about my assistant, I‟m afraid I‟m going to have to revoke your welcome. Please leave.” She rose to her feet, all lean, youthful grace, and leaned uncomfortably close to him. “Are you sure that‟s what you want me to do?” Richard took a step back and held up his hands. “I don‟t know what kind of game you‟re playing, but I don‟t think Paul would appreciate it.” She studied Richard, icy blue eyes roving over him like she was picking him apart. “Would you tell him about this?” Richard frowned. He should call Paul right now. As he reached for his cell phone, he adopted his crispest, most no-nonsense tone. “I don‟t think you‟ve left me much choice.” Her lips parted in a smile. “Good.” Unable to divine the meaning behind her sudden cheer, Richard found himself wishing there were cameras in his office. Madison was Paul‟s friend, and her word probably carried more weight than Richard‟s at this point. His mouth was dry. “What do you mean, good?” Madison leaned against the chair. “I mean, good you‟d tell him. Good that you aren‟t an opportunist. Sets you light-years ahead of a lot of jerks.”

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“All right. Well, good.” Richard had no idea how to respond. Whatever her agenda was, her whole attitude had changed from seductive femme fatale to that of the pleasant young lady he‟d seen chatting up Paul. “Sorry. It‟s just… It‟s like I said. I‟m Paul‟s best friend. He may not realize that I‟m a better friend than Kyle, but I am. I look out for him.” She nodded and fingered her purse. “You have to admit, Kyle‟s kind of a pill, a relationship train wreck. I had to make sure you weren‟t just preying on Paul.” “I would never!” Richard wasn‟t sure how to feel. It was good that someone was looking out for Paul, but he resented being tested. And he didn‟t like someone calling his son a train wreck, even if he privately agreed that Kyle had a lot to learn as far as relationships went. “Kyle is still young. I‟m confident he‟ll sort himself out soon.” Madison laughed. There was an edge of bitterness to it that made Richard wonder if she‟d been one of his son‟s conquests. “You sound like Paul. Both of you defending him all of the time. I guess it shouldn‟t surprise me that Paul would be attracted to you. He‟s been following Kyle around like a puppy for years.” Richard observed her agitation, trying to figure out what was making her cranky, when that sank in. “He hasn‟t been following Kyle around. Kyle is his friend.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that‟s what Paul says, but have you seen the way he gazes at Kyle? The way he cleans up his messes? The way that he defends Kyle, no matter what he does?” Richard shook his head. He hadn‟t seen Paul look at Kyle that way, and that night at dinner Paul appeared irritated with Kyle. Then, he wasn‟t really looking for it, was he? “You think they‟re lovers?” “Oh God, no. Kyle‟s completely oblivious to other people‟s feelings. He‟s always walking around naked in front of Paul, showing off. One time he even kissed him; did you know that?”

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The casual way she said the words indicated that she had no idea the effect they‟d have on Richard, but now that he thought about it, it was strange that Paul knew Kyle‟s body so intimately that he might‟ve seen lesions. Sure, they were roommates, but to notice that kind of detail… And Paul did clean up Kyle‟s messes, looked out for him. Was it possible that Paul was in love with Kyle and settled for the next best thing? Richard and his son looked so much alike, after all. Madison had come to ferret out Richard‟s motives for dating Paul, but what about why Paul would want to be with a man old enough to be his father? Paul could get any man he wanted—except a straight one. Maybe to a young man in love with someone he could never have, Richard looked like the perfect surrogate. The thought sickened him. “They kissed?” Madison‟s eyes widened, and she crossed to Richard and lay a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?” Richard brushed her away gently. “When did they kiss?” “Oh, I don‟t remember. A year ago or something? It‟s nothing to worry about. Kyle is very, very straight, Mr. Lynch. If something were going to happen, it would‟ve already.” He wanted to yell that she was missing the point, but he was having difficulty breathing, let alone speaking. “You really have nothing to worry about, Mr. Lynch. Seriously. I‟m so sorry. I shouldn‟t have said anything. But it‟s not a bad thing, right? At least you know he‟s very attracted to you. You and Kyle have a very strong resemblance.” She smiled sympathetically. “I think it‟s great you two found each other. You‟re a lot more mature than Kyle. You‟ll be a lot better for Paul. I mean it. Seriously. I think this is good.”

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Richard exhaled slowly, trying to concentrate on the conversation he was in rather than the one he needed to have with Paul, pronto. “I appreciate your approval, Miss Cooper.” “For a while I hoped that Paul would come around and want to be with me, you know? When we first met in history class, we were just sophomores, and back then I thought being gay was just some sort of phase guys went through if they got molested or something. So stupid, right?” Richard blinked at her, then nodded. “I got my hopes up when he told me that he lost his virginity to a woman, that it meant he was at least bisexual. I hear about people who quit being gay, or so they say. But I guess there‟s also people who figure out they‟re gay later in life like you did.” She frowned. “You don‟t think that would happen to Kyle, do you? I mean, sure Paul would like that, but…” She looked genuinely worried, which eliminated from Richard‟s mind the possibility that she was messing with him. “I really don‟t know. It‟s not the sort of thing Kyle discusses with me.” Madison looked at Richard as if she were just seeing him. “Oh. No, of course not. No. I mean, why would he? That would be…strange.” “Indeed.” Richard pulled himself together, focusing on his need to call Paul. “If you don‟t mind, Miss Cooper, I do have a long day ahead.” “Right.” She smiled and opened her arms to hug him. Then, seeming to think better of it as she took in his tense posture, she offered her hand for a brisk shake. “Thanks for the talk. I feel so much better knowing that you‟ll be good for him. Sorry I came on a little strong. I just needed to be sure, you know?” He offered her a weak smile in return. She was no doubt a very good friend, but like his son, very young. He remembered being that age. Had he been more circumspect about Catherine‟s lack of experience, maybe they could have taken things slower, grown more as people before marrying and starting a family right

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away. She‟d been a freshman in college when they met, much younger than Paul was now, but wasn‟t Richard just repeating the same mistake? He knew Paul didn‟t get involved with him to hurt him. Paul may not have realized that he was just transferring his feelings from Kyle to Kyle‟s father. The whole thing made Richard tired and hurt to think about, but he needed to deal with this. Ignoring it like he had the first signs that Catherine wasn‟t ready would only make things worse. There was a knock at the door. Madison answered before Richard could rouse himself to act, letting in Cynthia, who was carrying his lunch. Though Richard had always appreciated his assistant, he had never been so happy to see her. Cynthia looked between the two curiously. “I didn‟t mean to interrupt, but you have meetings all afternoon.” “Yes, I‟m sorry. I won‟t keep you from your lunch. Thanks again for the talk, Mr. Lynch!” Madison smiled and waved, leaving Cynthia to look at her boss with wide eyes. Richard knew what she must be thinking. “She‟s Paul‟s friend.” “Paul‟s friends need to lock the door to talk to you?” Richard sighed and shook his head. “Apparently. She just wanted to make sure I was honorable in my intentions. It was nothing.” Cynthia looked him over. “Well, she seemed happy with the answer. You‟ve seemed happy too, lately. It‟s good to see.” After giving him a smile and a polite nod, Cynthia left, closing the door behind her. Richard had certainly felt happier, at least…until now. It all made sense now, why someone like Paul would be interested in an old man like himself. What if Paul really was in love with his son?

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Sitting down at his desk, he dialed Paul‟s cell number. As soon as Paul picked up, Richard said, “Paul, are you alone? I really need to talk to you, and I don‟t have long before my next meeting.” “Yeah, I mean, hang on, I‟ll close the door.” He heard the sound of a door shutting. “What‟s going on?” “Your friend Madison showed up here. She was waiting when my last appointment of the morning left, and she had a lot to say.” Richard hesitated, trying to control his tone because he knew it wasn‟t Paul‟s fault. Still, his paranoia wouldn‟t let him regain his usual calm. “She made it clear I don‟t know you very well yet, and I need to know you‟re not holding back from me on purpose.” “Madison was there?” Paul was quiet for a while. “Oh God. What did she say?” Richard didn‟t know what to make of that, but it didn‟t do much to reassure him. A stab of panic made his head ache, and he stood to close his window blinds and shut off the overhead light. “She said a lot of things. She said you lost your virginity to a woman and that you‟re in love with Kyle. She said you two have kissed.” Richard paused, short of breath. After a beat, he asked, “How could you not have mentioned to me that you made out with my son?” “Wait, what?” “You and Kyle, kissing.” Paul was quiet again. He cleared his throat. “Damn, Maddy. Look, I need to talk to you about this in person. I don‟t think I can do this over the phone.” Richard glanced at the time and winced, then kicked his desk hard enough to make him hop on one foot. He needed answers now, but as much as he wanted to interrogate Paul, his next meeting was about to start, and he‟d already postponed it twice. “Look, I need to go. We‟re still on for dinner, right? We can talk then.” “Yeah, dinner. I‟ll be ready and waiting.” Paul‟s voice was thick, and he sounded breathless.

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“I‟ll see you tonight then. I…” Richard bit back a pathetic “love you” and finished lamely, “can hardly wait.” He hung up before he could make more of a fool of himself. Returning to his desk, he slumped into the chair and stabbed his food, taking out his anger on the blameless salmon. The afternoon didn‟t go well. Or, well, it went well for the company because Richard was so paranoid and aggressive he made some brilliant deals, but it went poorly for Richard. Though he knew most of his upset was based on his distant past, just the echoes of the damage Catherine had done with her deceptions and cheating and stringing him along, knowing that wasn‟t enough to escape the feelings. By six thirty, he was more than ready to go. He needed to see Paul, to hold and kiss him and remember he wasn‟t Catherine, that it was truly Richard he wanted. Maybe it was all a mistake. Their relationship was progressing so fast, but after so long alone, giving in a little couldn‟t long precede the whole dam giving way. It felt unfair that after waiting so long for Catherine to grow up, he‟d find himself falling for someone else who might be too young to know their mind. He pulled up in front of the boys‟ apartment building at seven, his fingers drumming on the wheel until Paul climbed in beside him. The awkwardness between them only made Richard‟s stomach sink further, and when Paul said he didn‟t feel much like going to the restaurant, Richard agreed. He called ahead for Chinese on his way back to Bedford and dashed inside to pick up the takeout before finishing the drive to the house. When they made it inside, Richard let Paul put the food out on the dining table while he went to grab plates, napkins, and drinks from the kitchen. He set their places, took off his coat, and hung it over the chair‟s back before taking his seat. Then he held out his hand to Paul, needing to touch him and hoping he needed it as much as Richard did. Paul stood after he squeezed Richard‟s hand, moved his chair next to his, and entwined their fingers. He took a few bites of his food and then set his fork down. “I‟m sorry I didn‟t mention the kiss to you before. I…to be totally honest…I forgot

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about it. It wasn‟t a real kiss. He did it to piss Madison off, I think. Or impress her. Or…honestly? I don‟t know half of what‟s going on between them. They‟re both so competitive and…anyway. Kyle‟s straight. Very straight. If there was any doubt before that kiss, there was none after.” Paul grinned and probably wanted to look playful, but Richard still felt queasy. He wanted to ask specifics—was there tongue involved? A quick peck? But he wasn‟t sure he could stomach the answer. None of that mattered compared with the question that really needed answering. “Are you in love with him? Is that why you pursued me?” The grin vanished from Paul‟s face, replaced with a deep frown. Paul averted his gaze, looking in the direction of the kitchen. Richard held his breath, trying to keep his expression neutral. He was angry, but anger had always been the first stage of heartbreak for him. He knew he deserved this for believing for one minute that someone like Paul could actually want him. No matter how many cross-stitch samplers were sold saying otherwise, people—unlike wine—didn‟t improve with age. The only ones who really believed that line of crap couldn‟t cope with the fact that their best years were long gone and the future was just a lot of shoulder-to-the-grindstone waiting for the Reaper. Hell, Paul probably would‟ve been out of his league even had they been of an age. Richard called on all of his grace, all his restraint, business savvy, and negotiation ability to say, “It‟s all right. I understand.” Paul snapped to. “No.” Richard tried to smile. “I know you think I‟m too ancient to understand these things, but I get it. I do.” “No, I mean, no.” Paul shook his head. “It‟s okay—”

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Paul pressed his lips to Richard‟s briefly. “I mean, I was never in love with Kyle. I do love him. He‟s one of the first people who ever stood up for me. He fought Cathy to keep me there so I could finish school. We joke that it‟s so I‟d be his wingman forever, but the truth is, he really is my best friend. I love Maddy too, but I‟ve known Kyle longer. He stood by me through some of the roughest times of my life.” The words of praise for his son warmed Richard‟s heart, but it served only to highlight all the reasons why Paul might fall in love with Kyle. Drawing a pained breath, he gave Paul a gentle smile, trying to project acceptance. He needed the truth, not something Paul cobbled together on the fly to comfort him. “You hesitated.” Paul rested his forehead against Richard‟s. “I was searching my heart. Madison‟s accused me of being in love with Kyle before, but I think she‟s jealous.” Richard nodded, unsurprised. “She did say she thought about being with you.” “Yeah. She says that, and maybe she has. But I‟m pretty sure she hangs around me to be near Kyle.” Paul chuckled. “That‟s not fair, I guess. We‟re pretty simpatico. I probably spend more time with her than him most days, so I can see why she‟d claim the bestie title, but those two have been circling each other for the better part of a year. I expect to find them dry humping on my bed every time I come home.” That was interesting to know, but it seemed like Paul was dodging the real question. “She said you gaze at him.” “Well, maybe when I‟m high, but I gaze at everything when I‟m high. That‟s why I quit.” The answer felt like another dodge. Richard‟s chest ached. He could barely believe he was having this discussion. “Are you attracted to him?” Paul sat back and gazed into Richard‟s eyes. “He‟s attractive, yes.” “You notice minute details of his naked body.”

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“If that‟s what you call watching for signs of disease, I guess. I worry about him. I love him, like I said. I‟m not in love with him. I‟ve never been in love with him. I can‟t deny that he‟s sexy; he‟s got great genes. But I could never trust him with my heart, open up to him, feel safe with him. I guess you could say we love each other, but we‟ll never be intimate. Does that make sense?” Before Paul spoke, Richard couldn‟t imagine what could be said that would mitigate the doubt he felt. But when Paul laid it all out for him like that, he could see it. He wanted so badly to trust it, but he couldn‟t. Not until he knew he was doing the right thing. “Even if it‟s not Kyle you want to be with, I can‟t help worrying that I‟m making the same mistake with you that I did with Catherine. I should have known better then, but I wasn‟t any older then than you are now. If I make that mistake at this age, it‟s inexcusable. “There were so many experiences I wanted myself that I‟d never had, but I was willing to go without them to be with her. I knew what I was choosing. I loved her so much, Paul. And she could have experimented with me. I‟d have given her the world. I tried to do just that, but she— “God, I don‟t know. I can‟t pretend her thinking made sense to me. But the bottom line was that she fucked around and kept telling me she needed to see what else was out there. She needed to find herself. So I waited.” Richard shrugged and looked away to stare at the uneaten egg rolls and shrimp lo mein. “If you aren‟t sure you‟re ready to be with one person, if you think you‟d ever like to be with someone younger, prettier, whatever, I‟ll let you go right now. If you go right now, we can still be friends, and I will still do anything I can to make your life a happy one. But I learned what happens when you move too fast and have to backpedal, when you try to give someone space just to keep them from leaving. They walk all over your heart, your pride, and they never want to be just yours ever again no matter what bullshit lines they feed you about you being the best thing they‟ve ever had.”

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Paul frowned and then kissed Richard. “I don‟t want to be with anyone else. I grew up with Bruce. There was never any shortage of „experiences,‟ and there were more than a few that I wish I hadn‟t had.” “Oh Paul.” Horror hit Richard as he realized how those “experiences” must have played out. He‟d seen what Bruce‟s house was like. It wasn‟t hard to imagine a handsome boy like Paul getting dragged into things he didn‟t really want. Richard hugged him, stroking a hand down his spine and pressing Paul‟s face gently against his neck so Richard could nest their heads. “What about you, Richard? Are there experiences you want to have? Things that I‟m holding you back from? It goes both ways, you know. I‟d never pursued anyone else, because there was no one I wanted like this until you, no one I thought I could trust. I can trust you, can‟t I?” “You can trust me, Paul. You can.” Richard looked into Paul‟s eyes, willing him to believe him. “The experiences I never had… What do you think this is for me? I always wanted to…but it was never worth the risk before. I never met anyone who made me want…” Richard‟s shoulders inched up, suggesting things he couldn‟t really put words to yet. Paul slipped from his chair and into Richard‟s lap. “I‟m sorry Maddy upset you and that I couldn‟t bear to tell you things over the phone. It‟s so much easier to explain things when I can see how you‟re taking it, when you can hold me. I‟m really falling for you, Richard. And it‟s scary. But knowing that this is what you want, that I‟m what you want, it makes it all bearable.” “I do want you.” Richard wrapped his arms around Paul, one hand going to the back of his head and pulling him down into a kiss that went on and on because Richard couldn‟t stop it. He wanted him so badly he felt like he might lose his mind if they couldn‟t keep touching. Since he couldn‟t bear to stop, he spoke against Paul‟s lips, the words garbled. “I want you to teach me those things. I want to quit ignoring that side of me.”

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Paul pulled off Richard‟s tie, staying close to him. “You trust me. You know I‟m here because I want to be.” He tossed Richard‟s tie aside and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I want to make you feel good. I want to make you feel so amazing, like the stud you are.” Paul kissed him again, pressing his hands to Richard‟s chest. “I‟m going to make sure you get what you need from me so you never feel like you missed out on anything.” “You spoil me.” Richard kissed his cheek as Paul undressed him, lifting his arms so Paul could tug his shirt from them and discard it. He was grateful they were past the awkwardness and suspicion. He licked Paul‟s lip and then thrust his tongue into his mouth, sliding their tongues together as his hands moved down Paul‟s back to squeeze his ass. When he pulled his head back again to look at him, he couldn‟t help grinning. “You‟ll give me everything, Paul? Whatever I need?” “I will or I‟ll die trying.” Paul cupped Richard‟s face. He rocked against him, moving their cocks against each other. “I want to be good to you, and I want to make you feel as good about me as I do about you. I want you to need me as much as I need you. I want you to fall for me like I‟m falling for you.” “Oh God, Paul, I am falling for you. Are you blind?” Richard looked up at him and kissed him gently, holding Paul‟s gaze and forcing his eyes to stay open even as he moaned at the friction of their hips colliding. “This is a risk for me, Paul, in ways that it can‟t be for you, but I think it‟s worth any risk if I can finally know what it is I‟ve been missing for so long.” Paul smiled and plucked open Richard‟s belt, then pulled him by the front of his pants. “Let‟s go upstairs. I don‟t see things, I feel them, and I need to feel every part of you falling for me.” Richard grinned and ducked his head; uncertain what he was doing but needing Paul in ways that didn‟t allow him to care about that anymore. Stepping free of the table and chairs, Richard laughed and said, “Race you.” Then he took off for the stairs at a dead run, sliding over the smooth polished floors in his wingtips and grabbing the banister to slingshot himself onto the right path again with Paul

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hot on his heels. By the time they barreled into the heavy oak double doors of Richard‟s bedroom, he barely had time to twist the knob and save the hinges before they were inside and falling onto the bed. “I want this, Paul. I don‟t know exactly what it is, what I‟m craving, but you‟ll help me figure it out.” Richard panted, still trying to catch his breath but already unfastening his shoes and trousers, shucking it all and kicking it onto the floor until he lay there, naked and exhilarated, hard cock waiting for Paul to touch it. Paul left his clothes in a pile on the floor and hopped on top of the bed, taking a moment to gaze at Richard‟s body. “You want something new? Something different than what we‟ve been doing?” He slid his hands up and down Richard‟s thighs. It made Richard‟s cock throb to watch how Paul gazed at it. “What if I rolled you over?” Richard had caught his breath when Paul asked, and then he lost it again. His eyes closed, a shiver running through his frame, and then he nodded. Mouth opening and closing, he tried to form words, but he couldn‟t. Instead, he opened his eyes to look at Paul and then rolled onto his stomach and reached for a pillow to bury his face in. Paul straddled Richard‟s back and went for the lotion in his nightstand. He warmed it with his hands and started to rub his back, starting with those sore, sensitive muscles in his neck. “Relax. I‟m going to take care of you.” He rubbed up Richard‟s neck, popping the little vertebrae, dipping his thumbs in the tense spot at the base of his skull. Moving down Richard‟s back, he started kissing his shoulders, letting his hair drag over the older man‟s skin. He rubbed Richard‟s sides, squeezing and pressing, causing more loud pops as he moved down Richard‟s spine. “Oh God, if I wasn‟t falling for you before, I would be now.” Richard groaned and rolled his shoulders, the wonderful release of knots that had been there for ages making him feel younger, new again. “You really want to take care of me? Just because?”

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“Because you make me happy. You make me feel safe, like nothing can touch me when we‟re together. I feel wanted when I‟m with you, and I want to make you feel wanted.” Finding a knot in Richard‟s lower back, Paul pressed his thumb into it, allowing it a moment of tension before he started to rub it. “I like you, Richard. More than I‟ve ever liked anyone before. I could see us together for a long time if you wanted me to stay. You might yet find it all too high maintenance, but if you stick it out with me, I promise you won‟t regret it.” “I‟m not a short-term-payoff kind of investor, Paul. When I take a risk, I‟m planning to hang on with both hands and see it through.” Richard looked back at Paul, propping himself on one elbow. Paul‟s face looked so intent, so grave and full of longing. Richard‟s heart flip-flopped at the sight, and he reached back to stroke his cheek, his fingertips playing with those beautiful lips that felt so amazing on Richard‟s body. “You‟re part of my family. You were part of it before we ever met, first with Cathy and Kyle, and now with me. This is real, Paul. This is where you fit in the world. I want you to be mine. I want you to belong here.” “I want to belong here. I want to belong to you.” Paul turned his head to the side and sucked Richard‟s finger, looking up at him lazily. He squeezed Richard‟s ass cheeks, rubbing his fingers into the hard muscles. Then he moved them around in slow circles, flashing himself with quick glimpses of Richard‟s opening. He looked back up at Richard, still sucking his finger, a brow up in question. Richard‟s ears burned with vestigial shame at what he was considering. He wasn‟t sure what Paul wanted, where this experimenting would go, but he couldn‟t deny the thrill building in the pit of his stomach at the idea that he could really do this. He swallowed hard as he gazed at Paul‟s impossibly handsome face, his lush mouth wrapped around Richard‟s finger as lewdly as those strong hands kneaded Richard‟s ass. Then suddenly it wasn‟t a question for Richard anymore. It wasn‟t a maybe. Biting his lip, he nodded and mouthed a silent please.

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Paul leaned in to kiss him, taking his mouth sweetly, but with a tense edge of arousal. Then he moved down to settle between his legs. He pried Richard‟s cheeks open and then leaned in, nuzzling the sensitive skin. Flicking his tongue out, he started to lap at Richard‟s opening, sliding his tongue from his perineum all the way to the top of the crack. Richard buried his face in the pillow, moaning in mingled embarrassment and bliss. It felt so, so wrong and so, so good. His thighs trembled as he drew his knees under him to give Paul more room and a better view; as awkward and vulnerable as it made him, he trusted Paul with this. Richard drew a shaky breath, voice a hoarse whisper. “You like me like this?” “I love it. Does it feel good? I can stop.” Paul stroked Richard‟s opening, teasing his finger around the wet hole. “Oh, don‟t stop.” Richard moaned. Paul‟s fingertips were so soft rolling around that sensitive area. He moved his finger down and tapped on the stretch of skin between Richard‟s ass and balls, giving it a light massage. Richard tried not to squirm, but it was impossible to hold still with Paul touching him, looking at him like that. As Paul‟s fingertip moved, he kept brushing externally against what Richard knew from his you’re not as young as you used to be, Mr. Lynch doctor‟s visits was his prostate, but no exam had ever felt this good. Given how hard it was making his cock, he was grateful. Shifting his weight, Richard reached down to pull on it as Paul touched him, giving in to the urge to writhe. “Right there.” Paul massaged his spot as he moved between Richard‟s cheeks. He licked his ass a few more times, taking his time to saturate him so the saliva cooled the hot skin in the evening air. Then he focused the tip of his finger around the opening. Slowly he rolled his tongue around and around it, teasing the tip inside, easing forward to breach him.

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With a testing slowness, he started to move his finger against the opening, again dipping the tip inside, opening Richard up by millimeters. “Oh God.” Richard‟s skin caught fire over his whole body, or felt like it. It felt so much better than it had any right to, and that Paul was doing it made it so much better than even the most enthusiastic actor in the movies he‟d seen had led him to believe. The freedom of giving in to this after so many years of never admitting even to himself he wanted this—much less believing it would ever happen—was incredible. Pulling harder on his cock, he pushed back into the pressure of Paul‟s fingertip. As dirty as it felt passively letting it happen, pushing like that felt ten times filthier, but it also let Paul‟s finger slide in deeper, easier, and Richard was struck with the realization that this was exactly what he‟d been missing. This was the tiniest step toward the connection he‟d longed for. A heady sense of getting away with something wicked settled over him, and Richard spread his legs farther apart and pushed back harder. “I want you, Paul.” “You are so sexy, so sexy like this.” Paul rested his head on Richard‟s thigh so he could watch his finger teasing him, moving in more each time he pressed. Reaching back into the nightstand, Paul grabbed the lubricant he‟d left the last time he had been there. He smoothed it over his fingers, two this time. First he teased Richard‟s hole, moving his fingers around the opening, dodging when Richard pressed back for it. He seemed to love hearing Richard whimper in frustration. It only took a couple of minutes before Paul gave in, though, slowly working his fingers into him, spreading Richard wider. Paul twisted his wrist, smoothing the lubricant inside of him to make it easier to take the intrusion. Then Paul curled his fingers and found that spot again, teasing it with a slow massage, fucking him with his fingers and somehow making it feel good. Richard‟s embarrassment ebbed away as Paul leered at him with such obvious enjoyment at what he was seeing. The bashfulness and urge to hold back faded too, lost in the increasing need for more of that feeling. Richard was caught in a loop

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between twisting to stare at Paul and burying his face in the pillows to hide from the intensity of his emotions. It hurt being stretched, but it was as satisfying as a good workout. His ass flexed around Paul‟s fingers, gripping them, rippling around them as they moved. The slickness of the lube had felt strange at first, but as it warmed, it amplified the sensations until Richard couldn‟t do anything but arch his back and rock his hips between the grip he had on his cock and Paul‟s fingertips grinding into his prostate. “You want me?” The words were tumbling out of Richard‟s mouth before he could stop them. “You think you could really love me?” Paul bit Richard‟s ass cheek. “I already love you, Richard. I love you so much. I have this stupid notion that if you let me inside of you, you wouldn‟t be able to leave me ever.” Pressing his lips together, Paul blushed and then ducked his head down between Richard‟s legs. He pressed kisses and bites between his thighs and then returned to watching Richard take Paul‟s fingers. He worked in a third, watching with undisguised lust. “I love how responsive you are, seeing my fingers inside you, feeling something no one else has ever touched. I want to be the only one who ever knows.” Ducking again, Paul pulled his fingers from Richard and spit on his hole. Richard flinched in shock at both the act and the sudden wetness, but before he could do anything, Paul was working it into him, massaging the outside of his hole and teasing the first inch for what felt like forever before fucking Richard with his fingers again. “I want to fuck you. I want to feel safe and warm and loved with you surrounding me.” Richard didn‟t know what to say, how to respond. It was impossible to think with Paul touching him so intimately. He couldn‟t hide or get away. Everything he was, everything he felt, was exposed now, laid bare before Paul‟s eyes.

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It felt like such a womanly thing to ask, but he couldn‟t help asking anyway, “Are you in love with me?” The answer wasn‟t important, though, because the idea he might miss his opportunity because he was chicken about being hurt galled him beyond bearing. “No. Don‟t answer.” Shaken but determined, Richard pulled away and turned around to push Paul down onto the bed and sprawl on top of him. He lavished kisses on his face, feeling strange at tasting his tongue, knowing where it had been, but it didn‟t taste like anything, really, and after a moment, Richard quit caring. The kisses grew more desperate, and Richard reached for Paul‟s hand to slide it down Richard‟s back. Holding his hand over Paul‟s, he pushed Paul‟s fingers back inside him, rocking his hand over Paul‟s until they were moving again the way Richard wanted. “There are no strings. I want absolute honesty between us, a gentleman‟s agreement. This is something I need to know about myself, and I want you to be the one to share it with me because I can‟t imagine having this with anyone else.” Richard gave him a nervous smile and combed his fingers through Paul‟s soft golden hair. “If anyone was ever going to be my Sundance, it‟s you, Paul. That‟s all that matters to me.” Paul gazed up at him, his smile gentle though his eyes were unfocused from lust. He pulled Richard forward enough so he could tease his cock between Richard‟s cheeks, letting him feel it there. Paul‟s fingers were still inside of him, grinding that spot. “And you‟re my Butch.” He cupped Richard‟s face, tracing his thumb under Richard‟s eye. “I‟ve never been in love before. It‟s hard to let someone in that close.” Curling his fingers around Richard‟s neck, he pulled him in to kiss him again, deeply, pulling his lips and tongue with suckling need. Paul trembled as he pressed his forehead to Richard‟s and closed his eyes tightly. “But I think I am.” Richard closed his eyes then too, as affected by the younger man‟s grave manner as the words themselves. It wasn‟t something Paul was just saying. He said it like he meant it. Richard kissed him again, the tip of his tongue sliding over and

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inside Paul‟s lips as if he could devour any delicious trace those words might have left on them. Paul‟s erection sliding against his body, so close to Richard‟s fingerstretched hole, made Richard groan. Reaching back, he curved his fingers over the younger man‟s cock, holding it pressed against his body as he rubbed against it and imagined what it would feel like inside him. Richard shifted his hand and kept Paul‟s cock sliding between his cheeks as he looked down at him and rocked his hips experimentally. Struggling to keep his breathing even, Richard stroked his free hand over Paul‟s smoothly chiseled chest and stomach. So much beauty there, all the perfection of youth, and all Richard‟s to have at a word. “Maybe it doesn‟t need to be easy or safe, Paul. Maybe it just needs to be right.” Paul‟s face colored, and he pulled Richard down to kiss before rolling them over. “It‟ll feel better this way.” Taking a pillow from the head of the bed, Paul moved it under Richard‟s hips. “This helps with the angle.” Grabbing a condom, he opened it and smoothed it over his cock, and then he squeezed more lubricant onto his fingers and returned to toying with Richard‟s opening. Richard tensed, no longer embarrassed but no less aware of how significant this moment was in his life. Paul murmured soothing nonsense and stretched out on top of Richard‟s body to kiss him. “I‟ll go slow.” Paul pulled his fingers from him and stroked Richard‟s opening with the tip of his cock, letting it stretch the hole slightly before the head popped back out, giving Richard a taste of what was to come. Richard‟s breath caught and then came faster, the anticipation almost too much to stand. He felt so helpless lying there under Paul‟s strong, lean-muscled body, so much less in control than he‟d felt straddling him, but this was easier too. The tension in his muscles ebbed at this angle, the spreading of his thighs eased by gravity and Paul‟s weight pressing down.

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Wrapping his arms around Paul‟s neck, Richard leaned up to kiss him, whispering against his lips, “I trust you.” Richard shifted his hips to open his cheeks wider and lifted his heels to rest at the top of Paul‟s ass. “I need you, Paul. I‟m letting myself need you. It‟s all right to need me too.” “I do need you,” Paul whispered, though it looked painful for him to say with the way his face twisted and his eyes watered. He took a couple of breaths and then thrust, telling Richard to exhale, to think about relaxing, that it would get good again if he‟d just relax, his words a blur but the meaning clear. The first pain of entry eased as Richard let Paul‟s voice soothe him and focused on breathing and opening for him. It was impossible to pretend it didn‟t burn, that his muscles weren‟t protesting viciously at being forced so wide, but the look on Paul‟s face made the discomfort meaningless. He tipped his hips up farther and pushed into the pressure, anchoring himself with his heels hooked against Paul‟s back and the grip of his arms against Paul‟s shoulders. Paul smiled down at him, caressing his face. Kissing the sweat from Richard‟s brow, he whispered, “I love you. I want to be inside of you, part of you. I need it. I need to know I‟m safe here, that you want me here. Tell me. Say it.” “I want you to be part of me, to feel like there‟s nothing out there better than what I‟m willing to give you.” Richard‟s eyes closed as the significance of his words sank in. Settling lax against the bed, he took a deep breath and opened them again. “I want to be your shelter, Paul. I want to be the place you hide from the world.” Paul‟s eyelids fluttered closed as he thrust again. His brow furrowed in concentration as he moved, eyes opening just enough to look at Richard before they closed again as he seemed to lose himself in what he was feeling. His breaths were slow and regular as he started to gain a rhythm to his movement. Paul opened his eyes then, gazing down at Richard. “You‟re the one I call when I‟m scared. You‟re who I think of.” Paul‟s kisses turned sloppy as he moved inside Richard, shifting his hips until he hit that spot, rubbing it as mercilessly as he had when he was fingering him.

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Resting on one arm, Paul reached between them to encircle Richard‟s cock in his fingers and pulled it in time with his thrusts. Richard felt obscenely open, like every wall he‟d ever thrown up between himself and the world had been breached. Paul‟s body moving inside his tore away the layers of armor, the carefully enforced distance, and Richard clung and let Paul have it all. He surrendered more than his body; his inhibitions and fear and the half-healed wounds he‟d been nursing were offered up too, whether Paul could see them or not. This was what he‟d feared most any time he‟d imagined this act with someone—not the physical pain or the threat to traditional masculinity, but being opened this way, being pushed to a place where there was no holding back. Now that he was here, the relief of sharing himself so completely outweighed the awkwardness of sudden, inescapable intimacy. This was Paul, and he had seen more than anyone his age should have. If anyone could know Richard‟s flaws and love him for them, it was him. Richard wanted to do more, to show Paul, but all he could do was hold tight and writhe, gasping every time the head of Paul‟s cock crushed Richard‟s prostate in time with the tightening of Paul‟s grip. Paul bit Richard‟s neck possessively, growling as he started to move faster, growing frenzied as the lust built to a climax. He bit harder with each jolt of excitement as he moved. “God, Richard, I‟m getting so close.” He trembled again and tucked his arm under Richard to hold him tight against his lithe body. Sweat dripped from his face onto Richard‟s cheek. The younger man drove farther into him, pounding him with such fierceness that their skin met in audible slaps. “Come with me.” For a moment Richard wasn‟t sure if he could comply—the painful stretch as Paul demanded more and more of his body almost overwhelmed the pleasure—but then he saw the look on Paul‟s face, his devotion, and a sheer need that mirrored

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Richard‟s own. He wound his limbs around his Sundance and clung tight, claiming Paul‟s mouth and fucking him with his tongue. Every part of them moved in concert, and suddenly Richard felt Paul seize in his arms. The next moment Richard felt his body follow, the closeness and the intensity too much to deny. As Paul‟s body jerked more desperately into his, Richard groaned Paul‟s name and gave in to the feelings. Long pulses of cum shot over Paul‟s fingers and slid between their stomachs. Each of Paul‟s slowing thrusts was met with a grunt and a kiss until they both lapsed into stillness. Paul breathed heavily against Richard‟s neck before lifting his face, his forehead pressed to Richard‟s before he kissed him again. His voice was hushed when he spoke, like he needed to get the words out but was terrified to say them. “I feel shy now. How silly is that? But now you know me. I mean, you know how I feel. It‟s kind of scary.” “Don‟t be scared, sweet boy. You‟re with me. I can handle monsters in closets, under beds, and in the dark. Making scary things better is what I do.” Richard smiled up at Paul‟s worry-knitted brows and kissed him gently. “And you have nothing to be shy about. This was amazing.” “The most amazing. And I‟m being serious. I‟ve never really wanted to be part of someone before. I feel like you‟re steady enough to reach out to, that you‟ll be there and you won‟t let me fall.” Paul pressed kisses over Richard‟s forehead. “Was it what you thought it would be?” As Richard tried to form an answer, Paul slipped from his body, took off the condom, and tossed it into the wastebasket. Richard flushed as he watched Paul throw it away. Before Paul could settle in on top of him again, Richard dragged his exhausted, aching body to the edge of the bed and snatched the condom out of the trash can, ripping it open and rubbing Paul‟s semen on his belly with his own. Looking at Paul, Richard actually blushed, but he couldn‟t stand the idea of treating something so precious like trash. Clearing his throat, he threw the tattered latex

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back in the basket and settled into the rumpled blankets, his forearm flung protectively across his eyes so he didn‟t have to see the look on Paul‟s face. Belatedly, he answered, voice shaky as his mind struggled to catch up to the more primal things driving him since they got upstairs. “It was more than I imagined.” Paul settled in next to Richard and whispered, “I‟ll always make sure you have plenty of my spunk if you like it that much.” Paul reached under Richard and traced his opening again. “Does it ache?” Richard grunted in reply as Paul‟s fingertips bumped against oversensitive nerves. He felt strangely empty, like a void had been opened inside him when all the things he‟d been holding on to so tightly had been let go. Sighing, he reached for Paul, burrowing his face into his chest and kissing his left nipple as he rested his ear over his heart to listen. “I love you, Paul. I don‟t know what to say right now. I want to say so much, but there aren‟t any words that could express how much I feel.” Richard halted and lifted his head to look at Paul‟s face. “I don‟t want to scare you away, but now that we‟ve gone this far, I don‟t think I can stop.” Paul pressed his lips together as he traced the lines on Richard‟s face. “I don‟t want you to stop. I‟m ready. But I guess it‟s been a while since you‟ve really… I mean, you‟re over her, right?” Richard let out a small, bitter chuckle and leaned in to kiss Paul. “We divorced a long time ago. Whatever hope I was nursing was predicated on her being the girl I fell in love with beneath it all, but it was a frail hope. The minute I stopped nurturing it, it died.” Richard‟s hand smoothed over Paul‟s bicep and up his sinewy shoulder into his hair. “Maybe I was holding on to that so hard because somewhere I‟d promised myself and Catherine I‟d never love another woman. After what she put me through, I didn‟t even want to try. But you‟re not a woman, so…” Richard looked at

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the cooling cum drying on his stomach and swirled his fingertips through it. “Maybe this has all been the excuse I needed to explore the rest of my heart.” “I chose the right man to fall in love with. You probably think I‟m a stupid kid with these notions of fate, but I like to believe people are scattered to the wind, reincarnated, and we find each other over and over. No matter who we are or what‟s working against us, we would find a way to be together.” Paul blushed and chuckled. “Sorry, I get philosophical in afterglow, I guess.” “You really think that maybe we were meant to be?” Richard grinned and nestled closer against the younger man‟s warm, solid body. He wasn‟t sure he believed in fate or the rest of it, but it made good pillow talk. “I never really thought I was meant to be with Cathy, but she was everything I thought a good wife and mother should be. She was the epitome of the values I‟d been raised with, the values I was working for. I think that‟s what I was for her. Maybe I was the bad boy she felt she had to tame, and she was the virtuous girl I thought I was supposed to want. And in the end, neither of those clichés meant a damn to either of us.” Scoffing audibly, Richard shook his head and looked from Paul‟s body to his. “This… God, Paul, you don‟t know.” “Does it scare you not to know as much as it scares me? Because I‟m so fucking scared. I don‟t know if I want to run and tell everyone or just run.” “No, I‟m not scared.” Richard smiled and stroked the side of Paul‟s face, tracing the edges of his flawless features. “I‟ll take care of you. I‟ll be here. It‟s what I do, Paul. Day after day, year after year. I don‟t change. I don‟t have hobbies or take vacations. I‟m here, and I take care of Kyle, and Cathy when she needs it, and when things go wrong, I clean them up.” He sighed, and his smile broadened. “Now, I‟m getting something out of it. That feels good, not scary.” “Maybe we can change that. I want to see things with you. I want to see what‟s out there—what I missed growing up in a bus with the world all around but me unable to touch it. Wouldn‟t that be fun? You and me and an RV?”

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“Fuck, Paul, I‟m not that old.” Richard gave him a quizzical look and then kissed him again, laughing at himself for getting offended when it was so obviously meant to be sweet. “I work for an importer, and the only reason I have an office job instead of a glamorous traveling gig is that I didn‟t think Kyle could function on his own. Maybe I could let my boss know I‟m ready to shift gears, if you might like to explore the world someday.” Paul grinned and pulled Richard close. “I‟d love to go with you on a business trip. Maybe a small one? Just to see how it goes, how you like it?” “I‟ll float this by my boss then.” Richard‟s building sense of well-being made him giddy. “And you can get inspired for your novel. Maybe time away from Boston and all the difficult relationships here will help us both.” Unable to suppress a leer, Richard stroked Paul‟s spent cock gently. “I‟d like some time off work to catch up on all the years of going without. It‟s a good thing you‟re young and virile. I‟ll probably need to invest in some little blue pills to keep up with what my head wants my body to do.” Paul waggled his brows. “I was going to suggest we bring our bikes wherever we travel so we could be sure to get a workout, but it sounds like you‟ve got plenty of activity planned. I‟d love to see the world with you, Richard. And help you enjoy little blue pills. I‟ve got finals coming up, but after that, I‟m yours.”

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Chapter Eight No sooner had Paul walked through the front door of his apartment than he realized something was very wrong. First of all, he heard voices. Kyle never brought women home. That was one thing he‟d agreed with Paul on. If one of Kyle‟s use-andlose dates got it in her head to pull a Glenn Close—not that he‟d entirely blame her… But Paul didn‟t want to be anywhere near it. He‟d had more than enough of crazy people from his dad. Kyle never took morning classes. He told Paul seven a.m. came and went on its own and he didn‟t need to be around to witness it. Paul felt much the same way most of his life, but being with Richard required early-morning drop-offs. There wasn‟t a question of Richard staying over in the apartment. Even if Richard did pay for the place, making his son endure the sounds of his sex was cruel. It was morning, and not only was Kyle awake—he was laughing. And there was a smell. A familiar herbal smell—not so distinctive on its own, but coupled with his dad‟s cologne impossible to mistake. “Paul. Just the man I wanted to see.” Bruce was melted into their leather love seat. He looked sunburned and in need of a hose-down: the usual, only now he had a bandage over his nose. He already held a bottle of beer in his hand. When he noticed Paul eyeing it, he offered it to his son. Paul sighed. “You owe me a bike.” “Your boyfriend owes me a nose.” “Can‟t help you got your nose in the way of his fist.” Kyle gasped. “My dad did that? I thought you said it was a gang of meth heads.”

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Paul rounded on Kyle. “Did you invite him in? What did I tell you about letting vampires into the house?” “No, I didn‟t call him. He showed up a few minutes ago looking for you. Sounds like I‟m not the only one who doesn‟t call my dad.” Kyle smirked in a way that made Paul ponder the merits of matching nose bandages for Kyle and Bruce. Apparently noticing the way that Paul was staring at him, Kyle asked, “What are you looking at?” Paul looked at Bruce. “Nothing. Just wondering if we shouldn‟t get my dad back to his casket before the sun‟s in full force.” Bruce laughed. “Your dad‟s not as old as your lover, so yuk it up, fun boy.” Kyle winced and looked away. “My dad isn‟t that old.” “Your dad‟s aged a lot better than mine. He takes care of himself.” “What‟s the point of having a body if you‟re not going to take it for a ride? Kid, you play everything too safe. I shouldn‟t be surprised you‟re shacking up with an old man. You‟ve been an old man since you were eleven.” Bruce leaned forward as if he was going to make a point, but evidently forgot it, because instead of speaking, he gulped his beer. “Anyway, I‟m here to talk about your old man, Kyle, so if you wanna make yourself scarce, this is probably going to be some shit you don‟t wanna hear.” Kyle sat up straighter. “Mr. Watkins, I like you. I like your music. But if you want to trash talk my dad, you’re going to have to make yourself scarce.” Paul smiled, suddenly really seeing Richard in Kyle. He favored him lookswise, but he‟d always acted so entitled. “Now see, there‟s a kid who respects his elders, Paul. You could learn something from Kyle here.” Bruce nodded. He slapped his hands on his knees and then hoisted himself up and staggered to the brushed steel and white kitchen where he helped himself to another beer. “To go.”

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“You can‟t drink a beer on the street.” Paul knew his dad intended for him to follow, but he wasn‟t sure that was the smart thing to do. God only knew where he‟d end up. Some people probably thought that was fun, but to Paul it was exhausting. Bruce opened the pantry door, fished around until he found a bag and wrapped it around the bottle. “What are you, homeless? Do you need a forty?” “Shit, do you have one? This foreign shit is so…foreign.” Paul shook his head. “Put it down. I‟ll take you to Starbucks, get you a coffee.” “Shit, Son, I can‟t be seen inside of a Starbucks. I don‟t know who you are sometimes.” “You give me a fucking headache.” Bruce grinned. His teeth were stained an awful yellow. Every now and then Paul would notice those signs of fatigue in his father—how fragile he really was. He hadn‟t seen any lesions, but Paul had noticed his father‟s skin looked looser, grayer lately. He looked more like the Crypt Keeper than a rock star. “Kid, you‟re turning into a real douche. You‟ve got it too good lately. Starbucks, honestly. Come on.” Paul looked over his shoulder at Kyle. “If I‟m not back in two hours, call 911.” Kyle snorted. “I‟m not kidding.” After half an hour of walking around, Bruce finally realized the only places open at this hour were coffee bars, so they took a seat in a local park at a bench. Pigeons eyed them expectantly. Bruce looked distressingly at home in such a situation, but Paul was far too clean to pass for homeless. “So are you here to apologize for Bob?” Paul sat sideways on the bench so he could face his dad, who was glaring at the pigeons. “Who?” That said all Paul needed to know about the situation. “What do you want?”

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“Why do you always assume I want something when I call you?” Bruce stared at the paper-covered beer bottle. “Because that‟s the only time you call.” Bruce looked at Paul, his brows furrowed, lips tight. “That‟s what you think?” Paul stared at him blankly. “You‟re probably right.” Bruce sighed. “I know you‟ve objected to my parenting style in the past.” “Style implies there was any parenting going on.” Bruce narrowed his ice blue eyes and, for a moment, looked like he might explode. He took another swig of beer. “I would‟ve killed for a dad as cool as I am. You know I had to go to a Catholic school. Then a reform school. Your grandparents wouldn‟t have gone in for all of your shenanigans, but I bet you wish they‟d brought you up. It wasn‟t as fun as you think it was.” “Growing up isn‟t always about fun. I guess you missed that lesson since you never have.” “What is so fucking wrong with fun?” Paul ground his teeth before answering. “Nothing, Dad. I have lots of fun. My idea of fun isn‟t being raped by some guy you met in a bar, or some woman you decided needed to bring me out of my shell. I have lots of fun.” “Rape. You‟re so melodramatic.” Bruce gestured broadly with his beer bottle and then finished it off. “You never told me you were a fag. If you had, I would‟ve sent a guy in there to loosen you up. You were always so tightly wound. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.” Paul balled his hands into fists, his entire body tense. He took a few long breaths as he tried to control his rage. “I wasn‟t ready for a guy or a girl, Dad. That wasn‟t your decision to make. You can‟t decide when someone else is ready for sex, even if he is your son.” “Look, kid, I was trying to help…”

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“I didn‟t need your help. I don’t need your help. You don‟t help. You can‟t even fucking help yourself. I mean, look at you. What are you dying of, AIDS?” “Why do you say shit like that, Paul? Fuck. Is that what you want? You want me dead?” Paul exhaled. “Do you want me to answer honestly?” Bruce recoiled. “Shit, you really want me dead, don‟t you?” Paul squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about how great it would be if he wasn‟t called out of nowhere to help his dad move, or to be tricked into going to parties, or forced to read what his father said about him in the papers. “Dad, there‟s a reason why no one wants you in their lives for more than a few months. I‟ve done more than my fair share of tours on this war.” Paul took another deep breath, already feeling guilty for even thinking it. “I don‟t wish you were dead, but I don‟t like how you treat me.” “How I treat you? You’re always judging me. You resent me because people love me and no one even remembers you.” Bruce stared at his bottle, his bottom lip sticking out like an angry toddler‟s. Paul felt a stab of guilt. Not because of what his dad said—he didn‟t care if people remembered him or not—but because his dad was hurt. “Yeah, that‟s probably it. I‟m jealous.” Bruce looked at Paul out of the corner of his eye. “I know I‟m not perfect. I‟m not what you want out of a father. The fact you‟re fucking someone old enough to be your dad shows me how much you crave fathering.” “I don‟t know what your impression of my relationship with him is, but I guarantee you he‟s not grounding me for showing up late for dinner.” “Does he spank you?” Bruce leaned in, whispering with strange interest. Paul‟s face grew hot. “What? No. What the fuck, Dad? No. Maybe it‟s as you say—maybe I‟m an old man way down inside. I don‟t know. What I do know is that I‟m in love with him. He‟s stable. I know where he is, and I know when he calls me,

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it‟s because he wants to talk to me. When he invites me over, it‟s because he wants to see me. He‟s not trying to share me with his friends or trick me into a press conference.” A pair of joggers running by shot them a strange look. Paul realized he must‟ve gotten loud. “I‟m not trying to share you with friends. Or use you as a prop. I‟m trying to make you part of my life. I want you to loosen up and have some fun, man. You‟re in college; you‟re supposed to be having wild sex parties and doing more than serving as wingman for your BFF.” Bruce touched Paul‟s shoulder. “I know we‟re past the point where you really need a dad, but the fact you‟re with such a fuddy-duddy old man… Why do you think Cassandra divorced him?” “Catherine.” “Whatever. He wasn‟t any fun, and he didn‟t want her to have any fun. Do you really want to commit yourself to a senior citizen? How many years do you think you‟ll have with him before you have to start changing his diapers?” Paul exhaled, not quite believing he was having this conversation. “Are you worried I‟ll change his diapers first?” Bruce shook Paul‟s shoulder. “I‟m being serious, man. And trust me; I‟ll go out in a blaze of glory before anyone has to change my pants for me. Because that‟s me. I‟m considerate.” “I keep forgetting about your considerate promises of suicide.” Paul rubbed his temples. “What do you want from me, kid? I don‟t want to be a burden. That‟s love.” “If I thought it had anything to do with me—if I for a second could believe you wouldn‟t suffer the indignities of diapers to preserve me rather than your rock-androll street cred—then maybe I‟d see it as love. But you never asked me what I wanted. You never once stopped to think maybe some of my anxiety every time you left was that it might be the last time I saw you. I couldn‟t even depend on you not offing yourself for your own reasons. It‟s not love to tell that to a six-year-old.”

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Bruce couldn‟t meet Paul‟s eyes. He looked at the pigeons as they fluttered and preened. “That‟s really what you think of me.” “It‟s what you are, Dad. It‟s what I have to think to keep myself from going crazy. I have to know I‟m not your priority or I keep getting my hopes up. You crush me. You‟re like Godzilla stomping everything in your path. You don‟t stop to consider who‟s under your feet. Maybe you care sometimes—I don‟t know. But at this point I have to find ways to stay out of your path.” Paul started to tremble, overwhelmed with emotions he thought he‟d long since shut the door on. “But I do love you. In spite of what an asshole you are and how little you deserve it, I love you. I‟m probably the only one who really does, and you don‟t see it. Maybe you don‟t know what to do with it. I don‟t know why you always push me away, throw people between us, but I‟ve finally found someone to love who accepts my love and wants it and I need that.” Bruce‟s eyes looked wet. His jaw was tense. “I want us to be close.” Paul covered his face with his hands. “You can move in with me, Paul.” Bruce patted Paul‟s back. “We can have our own place. I‟ve got some money right now, and you can get away from that Kyle kid and his dad. It can be you and me. I can show you I care about you. I can show you I can be good, that I can be someone you love and who loves you. You deserve so much better than that old guy.” Paul looked up, his stomach twisted in knots. “Just you and me? In our own place? How can you afford your own place?” “You let me worry about that, Paul. I‟ve got money coming in. I want to do this for you. For us. Come on, what do you say?”

*** After his amazing weekend-long date with Paul, Richard showed up to work excited for the first time in ages. He spent his Monday morning discharging his usual responsibilities and then met with his boss to let him know Richard wanted to begin the transition from desk job to travel. Just that simple change being set into

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motion lifted a weight off his shoulders, and Richard would have leaped and cavorted, but he was still sore from all the sex. Thinking about everything Paul had done to him made Richard bite his knuckles to stifle an inappropriate moan. All his life he‟d thought what he was doing with women felt amazing, but now that he knew the difference, he couldn‟t even compare the two. As he took the elevator down the three floors from his boss‟s office to his, Richard sighed and smiled at his reflection in the gleaming chrome. Maybe he didn‟t look different to anyone else, but he looked different to himself: younger, more alive, and happy. Most importantly, he felt at peace for the first time in his life. There were no places in his soul he was afraid to examine, no urges he felt had to be quashed instantly lest chaos break loose. Every need he had, Paul would see to—no hoops to jump through, no begging or chocolates or roses. The relief was staggering. And it lasted almost until he reached his office. The open door and Cynthia‟s form standing in the doorway chatting animatedly to someone inside got Richard‟s hopes up that maybe Paul had dropped by. The moment Cynthia heard his footsteps, though, she turned to face him with a guilty look and slunk to her desk. Richard‟s heart dropped into his stomach. Then he heard his ex-wife‟s voice, and it all made sense. “Catherine,” he said by way of greeting as he stepped into the office, his voice carefully neutral. He never saw her unless he had to. It had been a long time since he had, but she seemed unchanged, still blonde and lovely, dressed as elegantly as if she was going to lunch at L’Espalier. Which, knowing her, she probably was. Seeing her in this setting, he was struck with how much she looked like an older Madison Cooper. “Ricky, honey, we need to talk.” She approached him with her best smile, her hips swaying deliberately and her hands outstretched. Tiptoeing, she braced her hands against his chest and pressed a kiss to his mouth that would have lingered if

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he hadn‟t stepped away so quickly she almost stumbled. Pouting, she took a seat on the corner of his desk, making a show of making herself at home. “I was about to go to lunch.” “Oh, with Paul? I‟m afraid he‟s busy today, honey. He‟s with his daddy.” She paused, her long, French-tipped nails drumming on Richard‟s desk as she looked at him sidelong from beneath black lacquered lashes. “Kyle told me everything, Ricky—how angry you were to hear I‟d been with Bruce, how jealous you were about it, how it hurt you that I‟d kept it from you. It was a foolish mistake I made; don‟t drag that poor, impressionable young man into it. You‟re better than this, Ricky.” “It‟s Richard. Ricky hasn‟t existed since he found out you were cheating on him. And my relationship with Paul has nothing to do with you or Bruce or vengeance of any kind. Paul‟s handsome, intelligent, and he pursued me.” Richard took a deep breath and reached into his desk drawer for the little putty stress ball they‟d given out at the last corporate retreat he‟d attended. Kneading it didn‟t help much, but it was better than nothing. Catherine reached for his hand, trying unsuccessfully to pry the stress ball from it. After a moment, she gave up and rested her hand on his forearm, giving the taut muscles a squeeze. “You‟re so tense. Relax, honey. I‟m not here to make you do anything you don‟t want to do. I want to talk with you about…some of the effects your behavior is having on our son.” “What‟s wrong with Kyle?” Richard thought uneasily about the single phone call he‟d gotten from Kyle late Saturday night. He‟d let it go to voice mail for the first time ever, and though he‟d checked the message right away to make sure it wasn‟t an emergency, he hadn‟t yet called back. Catherine gave him a look of sheer disbelief. When she said, “You know what‟s wrong,” it was almost redundant, and more than that, it was a bad flashback to their marriage. “Paul‟s a grown man, and so is Kyle. It‟s not like Kyle can be upset about losing a roommate, because one, Paul‟s not moving out, and two, I pay his damn

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rent. Also, it wasn‟t good for anyone for Paul to go out to clubs with him every night to help Kyle pick up women.” “Well, who else is Kyle going to hang out with? Paul was his best friend. You stole his best friend, and you‟re stealing Paul‟s youth. It‟s wrong, Richard, and you know it. This is a midlife crisis brought on by finding out about me and Bruce, and you‟re taking it out on Paul. Maybe you thought he was pursuing you, but if he wanted to spend time with you, it was only because he wants a dad, and it‟s wrong of you to use that to take advantage of him.” “That‟s not how we are together.” Richard slammed his hand on the desk and jerked away from Catherine‟s grip. “I‟m not taking advantage of him. This has nothing to do with you or who or what you‟ve been doing. I understand Kyle is upset, and I understand he probably thought crying to you about it would make him feel better, but there‟s nothing devious going on here. You know me, Cathy. You know I‟m not the kind of man who—” “Who what? Takes advantage of someone young and impressionable? Sweeps them off their feet and ropes them into a huge commitment they‟re not yet ready for?” Catherine‟s flashing blue eyes and tight-lipped smile made Richard feel ill. No one else in his life could fuck with his head with such deft speed. “Maybe you like pretty blond college kids, Richard. Maybe you‟re trying to get back your youth, recapture what you had with me. Maybe you chose a boy this time because it‟s easier on you. A boy that age must be so eager to do all the dirty things you men like. You probably didn‟t even have to work for it. And he can‟t get pregnant either, can he? He‟s not going to get trapped in suburbia and go crazy trying to get out.” Richard stared at her for a few moments as her words hung thick in the air between them. Maybe she had some valid points in there somewhere, tucked away between misunderstandings, misrepresentations, and assumptions. Then he shook his head and looked at the clock. He wished he could trust her intentions, that he could allow himself to listen, but trying to sift through her half-truths for the good advice she could offer him would take all day.

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“Look, I‟ve got work to do. You can‟t just show up here, Catherine.” Richard sighed and shoved his fists in his pockets, staring at the floor and the wall before meeting her eyes. “You don‟t have any right to come to my office and disrupt my day. This has been over for a long, long time.” Catherine looked unconvinced, but she didn‟t argue. “Dinner, Richard. Tonight, with Kyle and me. We‟ll talk. You need to hear him out, understand his feelings.” “Fine. Tell Kyle I‟ll come. Now if you‟ll please see yourself out, I need to get ready for my afternoon meetings.” After Catherine left, Richard sat slumped in his chair, rolling a pen from one side of his desk to the other. The sight of her was enough to upset him, and when she set out to make him feel guilty and confused, no one had more talent for ruining his day. Cursing under his breath, Richard stood and hurled his empty coffee cup across the room, relaxing only once it shattered against the door Catherine had exited through minutes before. “Mr. Lynch?” Richard looked up to see Cynthia looking at him with an expression of real concern. He waved her in and motioned to her to close the door. She stepped over the shards of ceramic and approached his desk slowly. “What were you talking about with my ex-wife, and why was she in my office when I got here?” “She went right in. I couldn‟t stop her. I was telling her that you were upstairs talking to a senior partner.” Cynthia‟s voice didn‟t waver, but he suspected there was more to it than she was saying. Still, he wasn‟t in the right mind-set to patiently get it out of her, and he didn‟t want to get called on the carpet for letting his personal life affect his workplace relationships. “I need reservations for three tonight somewhere good. Get on that, please.” Richard dismissed her with a wave and settled back into his brooding, trying not to let Catherine‟s analogizing of his youthful desire for her with his eagerness to fall in

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love with Paul give him ulcers. He could see the parallel, but he didn‟t want to believe that was all it was. Paul was more than an attempt to feel young again; he represented a self-discovery that should have happened so long ago, and if Richard felt younger for it, that was a side effect, not the motive. Not that anyone else was going to understand, least of all Catherine or Kyle. Whatever he did, he had to keep Kyle at the forefront of his mind. Alone with Paul, planning their near future, it had been so easy to say Kyle needed to grow up, but what if that was selfish wishful thinking? Cynthia confirmed his reservation a few minutes later, brought him some lunch, and arranged his afternoon schedule to give him some time to himself before dinner. Richard wasn‟t sure whether it was sympathy or a guilty conscience making her so thoughtful, but either way, he was grateful. As confused as he was, with so much on his shoulders suddenly after such a laid-back weekend, Richard needed all the comfort he could get. That night, dinner started all right. Richard got a call from Catherine to let him know she had Kyle with her and to meet them at the restaurant. Richard showed up promptly at seven to find Kyle and Catherine both two drinks in. Neither had waited for him to start in on their first course. Richard started to express his annoyance and then remembered they were only there because they were both upset with him. Whatever he was feeling, he‟d have to keep it to himself. Once it had been so easy, but after spending time with Paul—sharing his heart, opening up—the enforced distance and stoicism chafed. “Hello, family,” he greeted them as he took his seat and gestured to the waiter to bring him some water. Seeing them both here like this, one on either side of him, made Richard‟s heart ache. Catherine took each of their hands in one of hers and looked between them, radiant with either love or some expensive highlighting cream. The more advanced technology got, the harder it was for Richard to tell a well-groomed woman‟s real emotions from artifice. “Ricky, thank you for joining us. Kyle and I have been

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discussing the situation at some length, and he has some things he‟d like to say to you.” “Mom, Dad, really, it‟s okay. I want to spend some time with you both. We‟ll get to the talking part later.” Kyle looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Richard wondered if when he‟d complained to his mother, he hadn‟t been hoping she‟d sympathize and make Richard buy him a Porsche in compensation. Richard wanted to ask Kyle how Paul was, if he‟d said anything after having lunch with Bruce, if Paul had said anything about their weekend together. Richard wasn‟t that crass, though, and if he could make it through all this all right, he could call Paul himself and figure things out. But Paul usually called him first, and that he hadn‟t called at all today was worrisome. “Richard?” Richard looked up to see Catherine staring at him with evident irritation. “Sorry, Cathy. What is it?” “Did you want the lobster, Dad?” Kyle said before Catherine could get started on how Richard never listened to her. Richard grunted assent to the nearby waiter and gave Kyle a conspiratorial wink. The waiter finished filling glasses and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. In the relative silence, Catherine once again took over. “Your secretary told me you‟ve had a lot of guests lately.” Richard glared in the general direction of Back Bay and Cynthia‟s desk. “Just three, yourself included.” “Your secretary says a young woman visited you Friday, a very pretty blonde woman, who stayed for most of your lunch break.” Catherine‟s tone insinuated all kinds of wickedness, and Richard made a mental note to fire Cynthia. “Wait, Dad… Not Maddy too.” Kyle‟s face was stricken as he looked at Richard. Avoiding Kyle‟s gaze, Richard lifted a glass of wine and swirled the liquid around the crystal, studying the viscosity.

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“She dropped by the office to discuss things.” Looking up from the wine, Richard found Kyle‟s disbelieving gaze and Catherine‟s inscrutable one fastened on him. Drinking deeply from his glass, Richard tried to come up with something to say that wouldn‟t make things worse. Before he could, Catherine was talking again. “What did she want to discuss? You know Kyle is interested in her. I can‟t believe you‟d meet with her alone. Even if she wasn‟t young enough to be your child, the fact that your son wants to date her should make her off-limits.” Richard‟s head throbbed. He rubbed his temples with one hand. “I‟m not interested in Miss Cooper. She just wanted to make sure my intentions toward Paul were pure. Apparently I passed. And if Kyle is interested in her, I suggest he straighten up and act like a gentleman around her.” “Oh you‟re one to talk about being a gentleman. Look at how you‟re throwing your son‟s life into disarray with your midlife crisis.” Catherine was giving Richard a look; he could feel her eyes on him, but he didn‟t bother to look up and find out what manner of death glare she was shooting his way. “It is not a midlife crisis, Catherine.” Richard bit off each word with a click of his teeth. “It is a long overdue moving on with my life.” “Mom, it‟s okay. You‟re stressing Dad out.” Kyle leaned in to whisper to Richard. “Did she mention me? Or is she still stuck on Paul?” Richard was about to answer Kyle, maybe give him some advice on wooing Madison, when he was rudely cut off. “Shush, Kyle. You‟re too forgiving. Richard, you‟re too old to be interfering in the social lives of young people. You need to move on appropriately. This is not appropriate. This is nowhere near appropriate.” “And you‟re the Grand Poobah of appropriate now? What a fucking riot.” Richard dropped both hands into his lap and studied her, noticing the nervousness underlying her aggression. “You love this, don‟t you? The opportunity to make me look bad in front of our son, the chance to show him you were right to do the things

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you did to me because”—Richard mimicked her voice perfectly but an octave lower—“„he was always like this, baby. Your daddy always put himself first.‟” “That is not true, and I resent you even implying it.” Catherine lifted and replaced her napkin across her lap and rearranged her flatware. “And I‟ll thank you to be civil at the dinner table. We are in public, Richard.” “We are in public, Catherine, and I‟m here to listen to Kyle‟s grievances, not yours. I don‟t care how you feel anymore. You‟re no longer my responsibility.” Richard turned to look at Kyle, holding out one hand to take his son‟s. Kyle hesitated but then placed his hand in his father‟s and gave him a confused look. Richard squeezed his hand. “You‟re my little boy, Ky. Always. No one else is ever going to take your place. It‟s not like that with me and Paul, okay? It‟s a parallel universe from this one.” Kyle smiled, still petulant, still uncertain, but he squeezed Richard‟s hand in return. “You promise?” “I promise. Paul doesn‟t want a father, really. He‟s way too old for his age, and—You know this, Kyle. I‟m not telling anything groundbreaking here.” “I know. I didn‟t get to have you around much after you guys split, and then suddenly you‟re spending all this time with him, and I can‟t—” Kyle flushed and looked away. “You can‟t help being jealous of all the attention he‟s getting?” Richard smiled gently and ruffled Kyle‟s hair with his free hand. “Trust me, champ, you aren‟t missing out on anything you wanted. You were never going to come over and learn to cook. You didn‟t want to go biking or swimming with me. Going to a movie with me is what? Just above a root canal in your fun rankings. Paul happens to love that stuff. There‟s no competition there, and if you ever want to tag along, you‟re welcome. You‟re my son, and according to Paul, his best friend.” “Well, isn‟t that touching?” Catherine‟s glare penetrated Richard‟s newly contented haze, and when she glared at Kyle, he dropped Richard‟s hand guiltily. “Kyle, you can‟t call me practically in tears about your father doing these awful

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things and then get us all here and hang me out to dry like this. You‟re making me look like the bad guy. This wasn‟t my idea, Kyle. You‟re the one who didn‟t want your father dating your best friend.” “That‟s not exactly what happened…” “Shush, Kyle. You called me, so distraught, begging me to make your father behave himself. What‟s going to become of us if he continues with this behavior?” “Us?” Kyle echoed, his attention seeming as piqued by that word as Richard‟s was. “You,” Catherine corrected hastily. “What happens to you when your father changes his will and leaves everything to some himbo?” “Paul‟s not a himbo, Mom,” Kyle said before Richard had to. “He‟s a good person.” “That doesn‟t mean he‟s not a gold digger. What happens to us if your father decides to marry him?” Catherine wasn‟t only dead serious—she was taking it personally. One look at Kyle told Richard he could see it too. “I‟m going to graduate soon, Mom. I‟m going to have an awesome job, even better than Dad‟s. I‟ve told you a million times. I don‟t need his money.” Kyle looked over at Richard and gave him a quick, ingratiating smile. “Soon, I said. Not yet. I still need your money for a while longer. Also, a Porsche. And what did Madison say about me? Does she know Paul thinks I‟m the better friend?” Richard almost laughed. Kyle was a nervy kid. “No Porsche, and you need to stop toying with Madison and behave—she‟s an awesome girl, and if you mess that up, you‟ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Then he turned serious as his gaze shifted from his son to his ex-wife. She met his eyes for a moment before looking away to pick at imaginary lint on the sleeve of her silk blouse. A clatter of crystal and silverware preceded Kyle‟s sudden rising from the table. When Richard shot him a questioning look, he said, “Uh, excuse me,” and slipped away behind Richard in the direction of the restrooms. Catherine didn‟t watch him go.

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When Kyle was out of earshot, Richard turned back to the table and cleared his throat. As soon as she looked up, he said, “This isn‟t about Kyle at all, is it?” Catherine‟s cheeks flushed, and that was definitely more than cosmetics. “Why don‟t you tell me what‟s really going on, Cathy? This is a farce. Kyle‟s not happy about this, but he wasn‟t going to be happy about Paul dating anyone. He wasn‟t going to be happy about me dating anyone. That we‟re dating each other is awkward for him, but he‟s already getting over it, obviously.” Richard sipped his wine and helped himself to one of the flaky rolls in the breadbasket. “He‟s not getting over it. That is so typical. You assume because he‟s trying to please you to your face that he‟s really getting over it. Why do you think he excused himself? You laughed at him.” Catherine‟s pale eyes took on a hard glitter they‟d almost never had when she was young. It was one more reminder of how dead that relationship really was. “Maybe it was wrong for me to be amused by his single-minded obsession with getting a douchey sports car. I concede that. But what about all the hell you put him through already? How many times did you bring home some new dad for him? How many times did that guy last under a year?” Richard felt freer. It was the first time he‟d ever questioned her parenting to her face or the impact her personal life might have had on their son. Taken aback, Catherine sputtered for a split second, a tiny fracture in her poise, and then she reached over and slapped him across the face. It wasn‟t hard, but it didn‟t need to be. That she argued with her hand and not her words said enough about her guilt. With a rueful look, she fixed her eyes on her plate, staring at it so hard that it was a wonder it didn‟t burst into flames. “So you do feel bad about it.” Richard gave her the ghost of a smile and rubbed his tingling cheek. “I wondered. Do you feel bad because you realize you hurt our son over a few fucks? Or do you feel bad because you‟ve realized my loving you that much didn‟t mean anyone else ever would? Was it worth it tearing our family apart?” Richard‟s almost-smile twisted as his heart twinged. “Do you ever feel

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grateful I didn‟t tell him the reason I was never around, the reason I was always working, was because you told me all you two needed from me was money and space?” “Mom?” Kyle‟s voice was only a few feet away, over Richard‟s shoulder. In the bustle of the popular restaurant, Richard hadn‟t heard him coming. The next moment, Kyle‟s hand was on Richard‟s shoulder, clutching him hard. “It‟s not like that, baby.” Catherine stared over Richard‟s head, eyes pleading, but Richard couldn‟t take his eyes off Catherine‟s face. He‟d never seen real regret touch that cold beauty of hers. It was mesmerizing. “Then what‟s it like? Tell me. I‟m not a kid anymore. Jesus, don‟t you think I deserve to know what‟s really been going on in my goddamn life?” Richard‟s heart beat faster. This moment had been so long coming that he‟d quit believing it would happen. “Are you going to tell him, Catherine?” “Honey, it‟s not like you‟re thinking. Your father does this for a living, Kyle. He makes people think he‟s giving them the best deal, and he‟s not. He‟s always been so good at that, at selling people on him, on making himself sound like he‟s going to give them what they‟ve always wanted. You can‟t trust him over me. You know that, baby.” “I‟m not a baby.” Kyle‟s grip on Richard‟s shoulder tightened until it was painful. “All I do know about Dad is what you‟ve told me. Why is that? Why didn‟t we have Christmases together? I know a lot of divorced families now. They weren‟t all like ours.” Suddenly Kyle was crouching beside Richard, positioned at the corner of the table between his parents. His dark eyes searched Richard‟s, almost a mirror of his past, like himself from twenty-odd years ago looking for answers. “Why did you stay away if you loved me?” Richard‟s mouth tightened, and he inhaled through his nose. Exhaling slowly through barely parted lips, he tried to come up with a fair answer. He wouldn‟t throw Catherine under the bus just because she‟d done it to him. “We were young,

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Kyle. Having a kid doesn‟t make you infallible. It doesn‟t make you any wiser than you were before he was born. A young couple with a kid is exactly like a young couple without one, except the pressures on that relationship are magnified a hundredfold from the day she tells him he‟s going to be a dad.” It was plain on Kyle‟s face he couldn‟t imagine his parents ever being so young, so clueless. Richard kept talking. “We were supposed to be this perfect young couple, like…if you and Madison got married. Picture that. Perfect, elegant bride with perfect manners, and sharp too. Perfect, handsome groom with charm and a bright career ahead. Picture it in the ‟80s now. Picture that world, how silly and airheaded and materialistic it all was. Think about the Reagan years. I know you learned that in school. Black and white. Good and bad. Simple.” Catherine started to interrupt, but Kyle shushed her the way she‟d shushed him all night. Richard ruffled Kyle‟s hair and continued. “I was raised that the man should know everything. There was so much pressure to get it all right, Kyle. I was supposed to finish grad school, find a good girl to marry, and have kids. I was supposed to be a loving, responsible husband who brought home the bacon and in return had a beautifully cared-for home and a loving wife. But it was hard on your mom too. She wasn‟t sure after we‟d had you that she still wanted that stuff she was raised to think she wanted. She wasn‟t sure anymore she could be happy with one man for the rest of her life, that she‟d really gotten a fair shake taking the first good prospect.” Richard‟s voice cracked as he looked over at Catherine, but she stared, her blue eyes wide with their shared memories of pain. “Maybe she wasn‟t in love with me like I was in love with her. How could she be? She didn‟t have much basis of comparison, I guess. She had no way to be certain I was the best she could get. She‟d never had a job, never slept with anyone else. It was a matter of time before black and white turned to gray. Life has a way of mixing it all up for you until you don‟t know what‟s right for you anymore.”

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Kyle looked at his mom, frowning and trying to take it all in. “So you didn‟t love Dad like that?” “I loved your father, Kyle. I married him, didn‟t I?” Catherine shifted in her chair and drained her wineglass. “He was a lot like you are in some ways. Like he said, he was the perfect groom.” “So you loved the idea of him.” Richard blinked and stared at his son, caught off guard by his astuteness. “You could say that. Just like he loved the idea of me.” Catherine helped herself to what was left of Kyle‟s wine. “We were a little older than you are now, Kyle. No one really knows about love at that age.” “But Dad loved you, Mom. I know he did. He waited for you. He—” “Let your father defend himself, Kyle. He doesn‟t need you for his lawyer.” Catherine gave Kyle a withering look. Kyle shrank back from it and then rose to his feet. “I don‟t agree with any of this. I don‟t want to be part of some ancient war. This isn‟t about me, Mom. I‟m not stupid.” Kyle looked at Richard then, pale underneath his tan. “I‟m sorry, Dad. I‟m gonna get a cab home. I‟ll call you. For real, this time.” Richard watched Kyle go, prouder of him than he‟d ever been. Of all the responses he‟d anticipated to this mess, being the bigger person wasn‟t what Richard had Kyle pegged for. Maybe he hadn‟t totally failed as a father. “This isn‟t over just because he thinks you‟re a goddamn hero for showing up to dinner with us.” Catherine‟s hostile tone cut into Richard‟s premature selfcongratulations. “You have no idea how excited he was to hear you would come out tonight to talk about his feelings. If you could see how our boy kills himself trying to do you proud, you‟d be ashamed.”

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“That‟s extreme, don‟t you think? Kyle slacks as much as humanly possible, Catherine. He‟s not exactly holding down a job and supporting himself through school.” Catherine‟s glare disappeared for a moment as the waiter brought more food and refilled their glasses. The moment he was gone, it was back. “He shouldn‟t have to support himself through school. He shouldn‟t have to have a job and school at the same time. He needs to be able to focus. You‟re his father. This is your job.” “Please keep it to a low hiss, Cathy. People are staring.” Richard looked around with his blandest expression, inclining his head at the neighboring tables until they returned to their meals. Looking back to Catherine, he forced a calm he didn‟t feel. “Maybe I would buy that if he used all his free time to focus. Instead, he uses his free time to purchase extraordinarily expensive electronics and date extraordinarily cheap women.” “Just because they like to have a good time doesn‟t make them cheap.” Catherine‟s dangerous tone made plain she took his views personally. “Listen, Cath, this isn‟t a morals thing. This isn‟t about „sex is bad, and nice girls don‟t do it.‟ I‟m way past that. This is about—” Richard halted, remembering he wasn‟t supposed to tell her about Kyle‟s pregnancy scare or the herpes test. “I hope he finds a woman who understands what a relationship should be like, who can handle his strong will. He needs to choose young women with dignity who won‟t roll over for him because he‟s good-looking, who expect more from him than a dirty romp and their name on the men‟s room wall.” “Oh but if a man does it, it‟s fine. No one gets upset with him.” Catherine downed the freshly refilled wineglass and stabbed her fork into her meal. Richard stifled a groan and tore another hunk off his bread. He didn‟t let himself speak again until he‟d chewed and swallowed. This conversation was a long time coming, he thought, and it only surprised him he‟d been able to put it off for so many years. “It‟s not all right when a man does it. It‟s cheap for him too. It doesn‟t make him a stud, or show his prowess, or in any way make him more of a man.

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Maybe I had some confusion on that point when I still bought every line American culture fed me, but I‟m a grown man now. I think for myself. The reason I‟m…” “The reason you‟re what?” Catherine prompted him when he took too long to continue. Her eyes narrowed, fastened to his face as if she could compel him to meet her hawkish gaze. After a few awkward moments, Richard shifted his weight, uncomfortable with getting personal about it. Then, drawing on last night‟s memories of falling asleep tangled up with Paul feeling appreciated and admired, he met her eyes and pressed on. “The reason Paul draws me as he does is because he respects himself. He cares about connecting, making it something other than cheap. He could have anyone, but he doesn‟t fuck around. He reminds me of the way you once were. Just because you can do something doesn‟t mean you should.” Catherine‟s silence stretched out, though her jaw worked a few times as if she might speak. Then she smiled hesitantly. “Does that mean you haven‟t done it yet?” “That‟s not your business.” Richard averted his eyes and ate some of his lobster. His ears burned, though, and he knew he didn‟t have long before she started questioning him. Lifting his hand to signal the waiter, he waited until he had his attention before dropping his hand to dig out his wallet. “I‟ve got the bill. I‟m sure that was your intention anyway.” “What? Are you going already? I didn‟t… Richard, we need to talk.” Catherine reached over and rested her hand over his as he placed in the center of the table a few discreetly folded bills for a tip. “There‟s nothing to talk about. I know what I want, and I was never going to find it looking back over my shoulder at how things used to be.” Richard rested his other hand over hers for a moment, as clear a good-bye as he could offer, and then rose and met the waiter on his way back to the table with the check. Richard didn‟t look back, and he didn‟t want to know what she was thinking. The bill settled, he didn‟t owe her anything more. It was a good feeling.

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Chapter Nine After Richard left Catherine, he made it as far as the parking lot before pulling out his phone to call Paul. They‟d talked a bit about his failed marriage, why Richard had stayed celibate so long, and Richard couldn‟t wait any longer to tell Paul he‟d finally set the record straight with Kyle. Of course, Kyle was probably already home telling Paul himself. Still, all the best, most honest parts of what he‟d said to Catherine had been said when Kyle wasn‟t at the table, and he wanted Paul to know everything. Sitting in the Jag with the doors locked and the windows up, the air conditioner humming to life as the car idled, Richard dialed the number with hands shaking with excitement. “Pick up, pick up.” When it went to voice mail, Richard frowned and hung up only to try again. When it went yet again to voice mail, Richard told himself not to panic. He left a brief message: “Paul, this is your beau. Please return my call at your earliest convenience, by which I mean immediately. You know how I worry.” Cringing at how fatherly he sounded, Richard ended the call. If he didn‟t know what was going on, he wasn‟t going to return to Bedford. Instead, he drove aimlessly around the neighborhood, his ears on alert for the first tiny buzz of static indicating a call coming in. Minutes ticked by, first ten, then fifteen, then twenty, and when Paul still hadn‟t called back at the half hour, Richard bit his bottom lip and considered his options. The most likely to be helpful, and the one he least liked, was what he ended up doing. “Kyle?”

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“Hey, Dad. Thanks for dinner. Sorry I ducked out early.” “Oh, don‟t worry about it, kiddo. Hey, uh…I hate that I‟m calling to ask you this, but…is Paul around? He‟s not um…picking up his phone.” Once it was out there, Richard couldn‟t help noticing how it sounded. He wondered how many times Paul had answered the phone to hear Kyle‟s weekend hookup ask why Kyle wouldn‟t answer his phone. Your turn to be the wingman, Son. “Oh, man. Dad, Paul‟s really upset. I got home from dinner and told him some stuff, and he said he needed to clear his head and took off on his bike. That was a while ago now, and I don‟t know where he is.” “What did you tell him? Why was he so upset?” Richard pulled into an empty side street and parked by the curb, too edgy to drive and talk at the same time. “Well, I told him—” An insistent beeping interrupted, and Richard almost choked on his relief when he saw it was Paul calling. “It‟s him. I‟ll call you back, Kyle.” Richard switched lines hastily and blurted, “Paul? Are you okay?” Paul‟s voice sounded nasal when he spoke. “Yeah, I‟m fine.” He inhaled like he was going to say something more and then said, “Fine.” Richard swallowed, his throat dry and painful. “Kyle told me you took off on your bike, and you weren‟t answering my calls. I know you‟re a grown man, but I worry. Fine isn‟t really going to cut it.” “I‟m sorry.” Paul‟s voice was barely above a whisper. “How was Catherine?” “Same as usual.” Richard hesitated, uncertain whether Paul even wanted him to pry. It had been a very long time since he‟d had a day-after to worry about. “Can I see you? Tell me where you are. I‟m still in the city. I‟ll come to you.” “I‟m at the Wharf. She wants you back, you know.” “Catherine? I don‟t know about that, Paul. Stay put, and I‟ll be there soon.” Richard sighed, wondering if Paul still cared as much tonight about doing what

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Richard told him as he had the night before. After a moment, he added a borderline desperate, “Please?” Paul sniffled. “Hurry.” “As fast as I can.” Richard hung up and put the car into gear, heading for the Wharf faster than was probably advisable. When he got close, he cruised along slowly, trying to spot a blond head in the moonlight among all the shadows. Once he found him, sitting on a bench facing the water with his bike beside him, Richard parked his car, pocketed his phone, and started toward him. It seemed to take forever to close the distance, and Richard wished he‟d taken a moment to check his reflection, pop a mint for his lobster breath, or do anything at all to feel more confident about what he was doing. Paul had said to hurry, though, and whatever Richard was facing now, he couldn‟t bear to leave Paul alone with his unhappiness, no matter what its cause. The thought that it might be Richard‟s fault—that maybe Paul was feeling what Catherine warned him about: pushed into a commitment he wasn‟t ready for—slowed him, but it couldn‟t stop him. Richard called out to him as he drew near, checking the face turned his direction to be certain it was Paul. Stomach knotting, Richard kept moving, one foot in front of the other, until he reached the end of Paul‟s bench. At a loss for what to say, he cleared his throat and settled for, “Mind if I sit with you?” Paul nodded, his face strained with the effort of holding back tears. He took Richard‟s hand and squeezed. Paul‟s hand holding his felt natural, reassuring in the middle of the confusion. He opened his mouth several times as if he was going to speak only to choke it back, sucking everything down. His gaze rose almost to Richard‟s eyes every so often, but then it dodged away. Finally he managed to work up to speech and whispered, “Are you going to go back to her?” The question left Richard‟s mind reeling. He stared at Paul in disbelief. “Why would I go back to her? After we…” Richard paused, trying to regroup and make his brain push through the illogical input. Breathing deeply, Richard

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licked his dry lips and searched for something solid to hold on to; the moonlight shining on Paul‟s pale hair, gleaming on his tear-streaked face, and lighting up his eyes short-circuited Richard‟s brain. Richard reached for him with both hands, pulling him into his arms as he pressed his mouth to Paul‟s. “If you‟re not ready, I‟ll wait.” The words were barely more than a breath against Paul‟s lips as Richard kissed him. “If you don‟t want me right now, I‟ll wait alone until you do.” Paul kissed him back, desperately, as if he were trying to inhale Richard. Paul latched on to Richard, clinging like he was going to be sucked away. “Do you want me? Do you really want me? You aren‟t going to leave, are you? You‟re not going to say things to me you think I want to hear?” “No.” Richard gathered Paul closer, trying instinctively to shield him from whatever had him so spooked. He pressed more kisses to Paul‟s worried face, his trembling mouth and furrowed brow. “I…” Richard struggled with the words, still new and uncomfortable but undeniably true. “I love you, Paul. I want you. This weekend, couldn‟t you tell?” Richard‟s brow went up, his dignity warring with the overpowering urge to take care of Paul. “Maybe it was too much to put on you, too much pressure too soon, but I needed it.” Tightening his arms around Paul, he kissed him, his lips and his voice as gentle as he could make them. “I think you needed it too.” Paul sagged against Richard, his shoulders shaking every few seconds with soft sobs that he worked so hard to choke back they sounded painful. “My dad… He came this morning. He wanted me to move in with him. Said he had money to get his own place. “ Richard snorted, amused at the thought of Bruce having money. Then he sobered as the idea sank in. “Oh. Well, do you want to live with him?” Richard tried to get it out, to be cool about it, but the memory of the fetid hellhole he‟d barged into not long ago was still too fresh in his mind.

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Paul finally met his eyes, his brows furrowed in confusion. “No. I thought about it, but his life is too chaotic. I mean, he asked, and I‟m so stupid. I‟m such a complete idiot. He asked, and I thought maybe he wanted me, you know? Like he woke up and saw me and realized he wanted to be my dad.” Richard looked at him pleadingly. “If I‟m moving too fast, if you‟re not sure you want this, it‟s okay. I‟ll back off. No guilt, okay? No pushing. I never visited Kyle at the apartment anyway. You‟ll have your privacy there.” Closing his eyes, Paul swallowed hard and then shook his head. “Don‟t back off, Richard. Please don‟t back off now.” He crawled into Richard‟s lap and clung to him, trembling all over. “Kyle told me about dinner.” The Bruce situation was still too confusing for Richard to wrap his brain around. He was still trying to figure out what to say about it when Paul tossed him an easy one. Arms wrapped around Paul‟s body, as big as his but tucked in beneath Richard‟s chin like a child‟s, Richard stroked his hands one after the other down Paul‟s spine to soothe him. “I‟m not going anywhere unless you want me to, but I thought you‟d be glad about dinner. I thought you‟d be happy I was facing the past head-on.” “I was scared. Kyle realized what was going on and came home, and I didn‟t know what to do. I mean, I don‟t want to hold you back if you want her. But she… I mean, I wondered where my dad might get the money for a place. He wanted to look for apartments—real apartments. He gets royalties, but he spends them all on weed and parties or whatever. But then I guess maybe Cathy kicked him some cash. It wasn‟t me he wanted; it was the money. I thought if you knew she wanted you that badly, you‟d…you know.” “What the—” Richard blinked slowly, processing what Paul was saying bit by bit. “Whoa, slow down. What? Cathy did what?” Richard pulled his hands from their slow, steady stroking of Paul‟s spine to rub his stinging eyes. He stared at the gentle chop of the waves, their quiet lapping

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hypnotic to his ears and utterly at odds with the slowly rising horror he felt. Sucking in a deep breath of the salty air, Richard braced himself and tried to speak coherently. The whole idea was so ludicrous he could barely bring himself to repeat what he‟d understood; it didn‟t seem like it could possibly be right. “Kyle came home and told you his mother paid your father to separate us?” “Well, he came home because he was frustrated and angry, but I guess also because he wanted to tell me he wasn‟t sure my dad was on the level about wanting me to live with him. He said it seemed to him like maybe there was a connection between Cathy‟s campaign that Kyle needed his dad and my dad suddenly wanting me to live with him.” Paul stared hard at Richard‟s face. “I mean, in the past when he‟s been between places, he‟s suggested he come live with me and Kyle and have a real swinging bachelor pad—his words. But suddenly he was very interested in living with me and having a relationship, and it was so out of character that I can‟t believe I was even considering it. I thought maybe he… I don‟t know. I‟m an idiot. But what son doesn‟t want his dad to like him?” Richard‟s heart broke for Paul at those words, at how futile he knew it was to try to comfort him. A fierce wave of love burst through him, and he hugged Paul tightly. Richard pressed a hard kiss to Paul‟s mouth, then pulled back and looked into Paul‟s eyes. “You‟re my boy now. Mine. And I love you. I will always take care of you, and I like you very much.” There was a plan, he was sure now. There was something going on, something repulsive and lacking in subtlety. That he hadn‟t seen it before was largely because Richard had quit believing a long time ago that Catherine would ever want him. Then again, this was the first time Catherine had ever had competition. Nostrils flaring, Richard took a few deep breaths and tried to contain his anger. In a quiet, steely voice, he said, “Bruce and Catherine will be sorry they fucked with us. She doesn‟t want me; she just doesn‟t want you to have me. I‟m not so green I‟d believe this means anything, and even if it did…” Richard‟s tone

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softened along with his expression. “She never made me feel like you do, so complete, so free. No matter what anyone ever does, Paul, it‟s you I want.” “I can‟t believe I didn‟t see it myself. I guess I didn‟t know you were off with Catherine until my dad said you were going out on a date with her tonight.” Paul frowned and looked down. “He made it sound like you two were going for this nice dinner. But then I got home, and Kyle was getting ready to go out and he said it was a family dinner, and I didn‟t know what to think. I should‟ve called you.” He looked like he wanted to say more but then closed his mouth and pulled Richard close. “I love you. It was such a perfect weekend, I guess maybe part of me expected the other shoe to drop—it was all too good to be true.” “It‟s real. This is real, goddamn it. I waited so fucking long to…” A sudden pang brought tears to Richard‟s eyes and made his nose run. He sniffed and buried his face in Paul‟s shoulder, getting it under control after a moment. “Listen to me, Paul. This is new, and it‟s not going to be a honeymoon forever, but it‟s real.” Richard breathed in deeply of Paul‟s scent, the musk of his sweat from riding his bike, the sharp smell of tears shed before Richard ever arrived. Longing filled him, stirring his body and his heart. Richard brushed his lips over Paul‟s throat, kissing and nibbling, all too aware of Paul‟s weight in his lap and the warmth of his perfect body. Lust-thickened voice made fuzzy by the movement of Richard‟s lips across Paul‟s neck, he said, “You‟re going to get to know me very soon, better than you wanted, and you‟re going to hate me some days. Be ready, Paul.” Richard pressed a finger to Paul‟s lips. “Don‟t protest. Don‟t say you‟ll never hate me. Listen. Some days, you won‟t know why you put up with me at all anymore. That‟s what happens with time. That‟s what this will be in a month or a year.” Richard held Paul tighter, grinding his growing erection against him. “But I love you, Paul, and if you love me like you say you do…that‟s what love is for. It‟s not to be fun and feel good. It‟s to get you through the days when you‟d rather walk away, when you wish it could be stupid and easy and fresh. Love is glue, and I‟m

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stuck on you. So you‟re stuck with me. And the other shoe‟s not falling, because it‟s love-stuck. So fucking kiss me, okay?” Paul ground against him. He grabbed Richard by the nape to hold him in place. He kissed him so fiercely their teeth collided and broke skin, leaving them with coppery, wet kisses. Rolling his hips against Richard, Paul brushed his length against Richard‟s chest. “I want that. I want to love you so hard that sometimes I hate you, that you hate me. That we can‟t move from each other because there‟s too much for both of us, even when we‟re hurt and angry. I want to be the one to make you angry and the one who makes it better. He pulled back to look hard at Richard. “I don‟t want a father. I really don‟t. I want a lover. I want a life partner. I want to share who I am with someone who wants to share who he is with me. Can we be that, Richard? Do you think that‟s us?” “That‟s us.” Richard‟s bright, giddy smile was so wide it hurt his face. His eyes were shining so hard they stung with it. And it felt so good after all that tension that all he wanted was to tear off their clothes and press skin on skin together. Breathing heavily, Richard pulled his tie loose and unbuttoned his shirt, kissing Paul feverishly. “That‟s what I need this to be. It‟s what I always wanted.” Richard‟s eyes filled again, but he didn‟t bother stopping the tears this time. He wasn‟t embarrassed over the cracks in his voice either when he said, “You loved your father like I loved Catherine, hopelessly, with nothing to make it worth it. Love me now, and I‟ll love you, with all my tenacity, with all my bottomless need, and we‟ll reflect it back and forth like two mirrors, not a bit of it lost to the void.” Paul kissed him again like he was fighting to be closer to Richard, like he could break through the skin between them. He wrapped his legs around Richard‟s waist so he could flatten their chests together. Waves lapped onto the shore, and the city hummed quietly in the background with only the occasional dish clatter and murmur of voices from the restaurant

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patio of the hotel a couple of blocks away. They were far enough not to be conspicuous, but they definitely weren‟t hidden. “We should…” Paul panted for breath before, looking drugged, he dived in for another sucking kiss. “We really should get in your car.” “Car,” Richard echoed, clinging to Paul and propelling them both to their feet at the same time. Kissing Paul and tripping over his own shoes, Richard steered them in the direction of the parking lot, giving Paul‟s bike a kick as he passed it to be sure it was chained to the bench. “Good boy. Smart.” Laughing quietly, not for fear of being heard but because he wanted to share his joy only with one other being, Richard got them up the gentle slope and pushed Paul against the door of his sedan. Richard bit at Paul‟s split lip, sucking at it and groaning as he slid his hand between their bodies to fondle Paul‟s cock through his pants. The feeling of solid heat against his palm made Richard‟s mouth water and his knees weak. “I want you. I can‟t wait.” Richard shook his head, eyes too unfocused to register what he was looking at as he fumbled in his coat for his keys and unlocked the back door by touch rather than sight. Paul slipped out of the way to open the car door and guided Richard in backward, his hand over the back of Richard‟s head to keep it from bumping. The younger man crawled in on top of him, pulling the door shut with his foot. “You want me, do you? Right here? In the middle of the street in your car?” Crouching, Paul rubbed his face on Richard‟s crotch, mouthing his cock through his trousers. “You want me to suck your cock right here out in the open like I‟m your little whore?” Richard‟s eyes widened, his mouth opening to speak, but all he could do was moan wordlessly. His hips arched, straining to get closer to Paul‟s mouth. “Please,” he managed as he squirmed and shifted to get comfortable in the cramped space. Richard caught the back of Paul‟s head, stroking his hair as Richard‟s breath hissed

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through his teeth. With his other hand, Richard unfastened his trousers and pulled out his cock, gazing raptly at Paul‟s face to see if he‟d really do it. Paul swallowed Richard‟s cock, keeping eye contact. His cheeks hollowed as he pulled back. The vehicle reverberated with the loud sounds of slurping as Paul‟s head bobbed. Holding him at the base, Paul used his other hand to coax Richard‟s balls from his boxers, stroking them with his thumb. Every so often, he checked the horizon for people, but otherwise the younger man focused on flexing his throat and tongue around Richard‟s shaft. Seeing Paul like that, so willing to risk being caught doing something like this, made Richard‟s heart ache. It hardly seemed like a logical reason to fall harder, but Richard couldn‟t help it. Underneath the filthy words and the obscene reality of their actions, it was a touching display of vulnerability. It reminded him of why he felt so free to give himself to him, to experience everything Paul could give him; when Richard was out on a limb, Paul was out there too. Groaning hoarsely, Richard surrendered to the feeling of his cock sliding deeply inside Paul‟s mouth. He was close so fast it dizzied him, and by the time he grunted a warning, his body was already stiffening and his cock already starting to spurt. One of Richard‟s hands rose to his hair, pulling at the roots as if the pain would keep him from floating away. Paul moaned as he swallowed him down, eyes fluttering closed briefly. He seemed to catch himself and gazed back up the length of Richard‟s body. He crawled up it and whispered, “I love that you want me so much you let me do filthy things to you in your car.” Paul let Richard taste himself on his tongue and pressed his ill-concealed erection against Richard‟s thigh. The spandex of his bike shorts stretched lewdly. “Can you imagine if we got caught like this? The scandal in the papers. Would serve Cathy right to have to bail us out of jail.” “I don‟t care who knows. I paid my fucking dues.” Richard kissed Paul back harder, sucking and licking Paul‟s mouth clean of his taste. Light-headed and

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needy, he reached inside Paul‟s shorts to wrap his fingers around his cock, his spine arching involuntarily at the sense memory of how it fit inside him. He‟d already come; he had no excuse for what he wanted except that he wanted it. Toes curling inside his wingtips, Richard stroked Paul‟s cock with all the eagerness of his boundless love. Looking up into thick-lashed eyes gleaming like polished slate in the shadows of the backseat, Richard nipped at Paul‟s lips and let his words flow out on a soft, ragged breath. “You want me too, don‟t you?” Richard‟s grip tightened on Paul‟s cock, one long, expensively clad leg hooking over Paul‟s ass. Paul pressed his lips together and looked out the windows as if he expected a SWAT team to show up. Not seeing one, he looked down again and leaned in to whisper, “I don‟t have any lube. It will be rough.” Richard groaned and pulled Paul closer with his leg, an uncharacteristic pout coming to his face. “I don‟t care. You can kiss it later and make it better. I‟ll call in tomorrow. I don‟t care.” Before Paul could protest, Richard‟s leg dropped, and he turned underneath Paul until he was facedown on the leather with his knees drawn under him. Richard pushed his pants down around his thighs, sighing in bliss at the silky skin of Paul‟s exposed erection brushing his bare flesh. Shivering with want, Richard licked his lips and looked back at Paul, desperate in ways he‟d never known he could be. “It‟ll be okay, I promise.” Richard reached to stroke Paul‟s hair and the side of his face, so full of love he felt like he‟d die if he couldn‟t be one with him. Moving his hand to Paul‟s mouth, Richard‟s face took on a devilish cast. “Spit.” As soon as Paul obeyed, Richard reached down between their bodies to rub it into his own opening, flushing self-consciously as he fingered himself but far beyond any form of self-control. Once again, Paul peered out the windows, and deciding no one was coming, he dropped his face between Richard‟s cheeks. He dragged his tongue over his hole and then spit again, pausing to watch Richard‟s fingers work.

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Paul sat back on his knees, his head bent awkwardly against the roof of the Jag. It cast his face into shadow, making his expression impossible to read. Paul moaned and touched himself, giving his cock a couple of quick strokes before scooting forward on his knees. He rubbed the bare head of his cock between Richard‟s cheeks. “Hold yourself open. I want to see me going inside you.” Richard moaned throatily in assent and braced face-first in the cushion as he reached back with both hands to spread his ass for Paul. It felt even dirtier than it had at home in his bedroom, as if the whole world could peek through the windows and see his greedy, spit-slicked hole already flexing in anticipation. He didn‟t want the world to see, but knowing that Paul could sent a thrill down his spine. “I belong to you.” Richard shivered as he said it, feeling the full weight of what it meant as he widened his thighs farther, as far as the hobble of his trousers bunched around his knees allowed, and gripped his cheeks tight to let Paul see everything. A sense of rightness and peace filled Richard, and he relaxed all at once, his hole twitching and grasping at nothing. Paul pressed his cock against Richard‟s opening, popping it in and then letting it slide back out. He breathed heavily. “You belong to me. All of this is for me.” He leaned forward, sliding in halfway. Paul let out a breathy sigh as he sank into Richard, grinding the older man into the leather seat. It squeaked in protest as they adjusted themselves, Paul flattening himself atop Richard, their legs bent at the knee up the door. “God, you feel so good. If I could stay here like this, inside of you, I know nothing could ever get to me.” Paul kissed Richard‟s shoulder, giving the crook of his neck a bite as he started to move his hips. “Just like this.” He dug his hands under Richard‟s chest, hugging him tight as he moved, rocking them together, breathing heavily into Richard‟s ear. “I wish you could stay there too.” Richard smiled dreamily as he said it, caught between discomfort and pure bliss. The afterglow and his peaceful joy at being filled with Paul made the burn of friction inside him and the awkward position

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necessitated by the cramped quarters irrelevant. All he wanted was this, to be more than just appreciated, but luxuriated in. Richard shifted, swiveling his hips, twisting to ease the drag of Paul‟s skin against his insides. It felt raw, though. It was their purest state, and it was glorious. Rolling his shoulders and pushing hard into the pressure of Paul‟s thrusts, Richard managed to relax even more, to take him even deeper. Every stroke became so intense that Richard could only close his eyes, his cheek pressed to the leather, and gasp for air as their bodies merged so completely it seemed impossible anything could separate them. On impulse, Richard turned his face farther to catch Paul in a breathless kiss. “You‟re safe inside me. You know now, don‟t you? Know that I‟m yours.” “No one can steal you away from me.” Paul kissed Richard again, his face wet with perspiration. The windows steamed up with the humidity of their breathing, but Paul seemed past checking them for people looking in. Now his concentration focused on thrusting into Richard‟s eager, aching body. The shocks squealed an occasional protest, the car shifting with the force of their bodies colliding. Paul shuddered, his lean body racked with each long pulse of release, each movement becoming easier, slicker with Paul‟s cum. Paul collapsed atop Richard and panted for breath. “I love you. So much.” Richard‟s smile blossomed from dreaminess into ecstasy, his release made complete now by Paul‟s. Part of him still felt like he should find this degrading, like he should be outraged at being used and left dirty with another man‟s fluids, but instead he felt absolutely satisfied, and having done it like this, in the backseat like teenagers, made it even better. This was how it was supposed to be, this freedom, this perfect coordination of desires. As much as he hated having to move, Richard knew if he fell asleep like this, they would get caught. He let it linger as long as he could, kissing and touching, feeling Paul‟s erection slowly wane until he grew too sensitive and had to pull out. His wet, softening cock rested against the underside of Richard‟s cheek, and it felt

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like a trophy, like some proof Richard deserved this happiness because he was sharing it with someone else who craved it too. After a few more minutes, Richard roused himself enough to pull his bottoms back over his ass and gingerly rise to a sitting position. Cradling Paul‟s face in one hand, he kissed him over and over, still grinning like a fool. “Come home with me?” Paul‟s smile widened into a toothy grin. “I was going to ask if you didn‟t offer. I need to be close to you tonight. Maybe a couple of nights, if that‟s okay?” Paul pouted playfully. “I‟m very traumatized.” Though Richard knew Paul was trying to joke around, he saw the true sadness that flickered over his lover‟s features as he pulled up his pants. “I need to grab my bike.” Richard started the car as he watched Paul go. As difficult as this path was going to be, there was no part of him that didn‟t believe they‟d get through this.

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Chapter Ten In the morning, Richard slept in. He‟d called in sick the night before, or rather, the very early morning right before he finally fell asleep tangled up with Paul in his bed. He‟d never been so sore in his life, and if he had been, he hadn‟t been this happy about it. This was how he wanted life to be, every day, always. When he woke, Paul was already in the shower, and while Richard‟s first impulse was to join him, he realized a moment later that the sound that woke him wasn‟t coming from the bathroom but rather from downstairs. It was the doorbell, a sound he heard so rarely it took him a few moments to recognize it. Pulling on his calf-length robe to cover his nakedness, he staggered downstairs, tying the belt as he went. Pausing at the mirror in the hall to check his reflection, he tugged up the collar of the robe to hide the worst of his love bites in case it was Kyle. Richard peered through the peephole and swore under his breath. Catherine. Of all the people to show up first thing, she was the worst. Sighing, Richard unbolted the door and opened it a few inches, just enough to look her in the face and hear whatever she had to say. “Good morning, honey. Aww, you look so tired. Did I wake you? I‟m so sorry. I brought you some fresh fruit and things.” Catherine managed to beam and look concerned at the same time as she held up shopping bag for him to see. “I tried calling you at the office this morning, but Cynthia said you‟d called in sick in the middle of the night and sounded dreadful. I thought you might need a little TLC.” Richard snorted. Listening to her perkily fretful voice made him tired. It was on the tip of his tongue to bitch her out about the suspicions Kyle had raised to Paul the night before, but he was still pulling his thoughts and words together when he

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heard feet on the stairs. The door swung open a little wider on its own as Richard forgot to hold it in place. Paul was still dotted with dribbles of water from the shower when he reached the entryway. He wore a pair of Richard‟s dark green silk boxers. They clung to him enticingly in spots where he hadn‟t quite dried off, obviously having hastily put them on straight out of the shower. Half-naked with a towel around his neck, Paul was charmingly rumpled, tousled wet hair forming a halo around his face. “Fruit? Awesome. I‟m starving.” Paul rubbed his hand leisurely over his abs almost suggestively. Then he smirked. “Oh sorry, Catherine. You haven‟t seen my scar before, have you?” Catherine kept staring at Paul‟s body, not even tearing her eyes away when Paul made note of her staring. “Scar?” Paul approached the door, turning around so he could show her where it started at his back and traced over his side to his abs and down to a point on his abdomen that caused Paul to pull the waistband down a couple of inches. When Catherine had all but shoved her head through the door to get a better look, Paul let the waistband snap back. “Anyway, let‟s see this food. I hope you brought enough to share with the rest of the class. I‟m sure you didn‟t expect Richard to be here alone this morning.” Richard stepped back and let Catherine inside. Her obvious interest in Paul didn‟t escape his notice, but neither did the fact she‟d almost been his stepmother at one point. Wrinkling his nose, he shut the door behind her and turned to see her standing closer to Paul than Richard liked. “Oh, look, she‟s brought us some strawberries.” Richard gave Catherine a flat smile and moved to stand behind Paul, his arms going around his waist and his chin settling atop Paul‟s shoulder. The half-hard bulge of his length pressed against Paul‟s ass. Richard rubbed against him slowly, wondering how rude it would be of him to beg a few minutes to change clothes and drag Paul upstairs for a quickie.

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“Yes, I brought strawberries. I know you, Ricky. I still remember your favorites.” Catherine cleared her throat as she looked from Paul‟s face to Richard‟s, then lower to where Richard‟s arms were twined tight around Paul‟s waist. The look on her face was familiar to Richard from so long ago it hurt to remember it, that hungry light in her eyes and the softening of her expression that had once belonged only to him. That combined with her insistence on a nickname that died when he was still in his twenties made Richard sad, and being sad made him furious. He was done being sad because of Catherine. “You know where the kitchen is. Thanks for stopping by.” Richard nuzzled into Paul‟s throat, hiding his face and kissing along a prominent tendon on his smooth, young neck when Paul‟s head turned to the side to give him more room. Paul pushed his ass back against Richard‟s rutting, and when he turned around in Richard‟s arms, it became evident Richard‟s arms weren‟t all she‟d been looking at. He pushed his erection against Richard‟s body. “You‟d better be careful with that thing. You keep teasing me with it, and I‟m going to be forced to drag you into a closet to suck it.” “Richard,” Catherine called from the kitchen. “Do you think I could see you for a minute? Alone?” Richard laughed against Paul‟s mouth as he kissed him. Hearing her safely in the other room, he slid his hand over Paul‟s ass, squeezing and pulling him closer to rub their cocks together. “I didn‟t even notice her leave. Do you think if we go upstairs, she‟ll remember to lock the door behind her?” “Oh you don‟t like showing off the big bunches of studliness she‟s not going to get? It‟s kind of fun. And if you think you‟re going in there with her alone with a raging hard-on, you‟re as demented as she is.” Paul pulled Richard closer and kissed him deeply. “You‟re mine. She can‟t call you in to see her alone. This isn‟t her house anymore. But…do you think I should grab a robe? You keep making me hard, and she‟s going to think this is for her.”

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“If she thinks that, she needs to be committed. That‟s some pretty serious delusional thinking. Besides, if you cover up, I can‟t see you either, and that‟s not fair when I called in to stay home and look.” Richard grinned and slid his hand under Paul‟s waistband to tease his fingertips over the head of Paul‟s cock. Richard wanted it so badly he couldn‟t breathe right. With a groan, he pulled his hand away and smacked Paul‟s ass. “Let her see. Maybe she‟ll realize she‟s not necessary and fuck off home.” “Richard?” Catherine‟s voice sounded more insistent now, and Richard sighed. “Just a moment, Cathy.” Then, in an undertone he added to Paul, “You‟re sure you want to suffer through whatever bullshit she‟s about to spring on me?” “Only if you promise to slide your hand into my pants when I look like I‟m going to lose my temper.” Paul grinned and kissed Richard again, pulling him close. He gave Richard‟s ass a tight squeeze and whispered, “This is mine, and I‟m going to have it as soon as she‟s gone.” He trailed Richard into the kitchen, giving Catherine a bit to think he‟d actually obeyed her. “Richard,” she said, crossing to him with her arms open. “Honey, look. I know what that family is like. Trust me. It‟s only by the grace of God I came to my senses before I married that boy‟s father. They‟re users, Richard. He‟s after you for your money. That‟s what his father was after, and the apple doesn‟t fall far from the tree. I didn‟t want to have to be the one to tell you, but honey, I want to protect your ass…ets.” She broke off when Paul entered the kitchen. “His ass is mine. You can do what you want with his assets, Cathy. I‟ve got a pretty comfy life where I am. I don‟t need or want his money. Just that sweet, sweet ass.” Paul wrapped an arm around Richard and grinned. Catherine looked between them, patting down her French twist. “Paul. Well, say what you will, but you‟ve been living off Richard‟s money for quite some time. I suppose I should‟ve expected you might want to cut out the middleman.”

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“Is that what you‟re worried about? That I‟m going to interfere with the supply chain? Lady, you are seriously a piece of work.” She stood closer to Paul, her eyes hesitating again as she looked over his body. “I don‟t recall you refusing a free home and free food when your father left.” “You‟re right. But you know, Cathy, I stayed because I liked Kyle and because he was lonely and looking for a real family like I was. If I‟d known that by living there I was going to have to endure your clumsy attempts to seduce me, I would‟ve made my apologies to Kyle and moved on with my dad.” “Wait, what?” Richard snapped, jolted from the sense of surrealism that had descended on him as he listened to them talking about him like he wasn‟t there. He looked at Catherine sharply, so nauseated at Paul‟s accusation that he thought his knees would buckle. Blinking rapidly, Richard looked between Catherine and Paul, anger and dread building in his gut until it was all that kept him upright. “Catherine, did you really…? You didn‟t. Tell me you weren‟t—How can you even pretend the money you were using to support you all even then wasn‟t my money anyway? What the—” Richard‟s eyes locked on Paul‟s with a stricken expression. “You didn‟t tell me any of this.” “That‟s right. He didn‟t tell you. And you know why he didn‟t tell you, Richard? Because he knew—” Paul rushed to interrupt. “I‟m sorry, Richard. You were so hurt over my dad. I didn‟t want to add to your misery. I never mentioned it to Kyle either. I didn‟t think he needed to know. I didn‟t want anyone to know.” Wincing, Paul dropped his voice. “I wasn‟t going to say anything… Shit. I‟m sorry, Richard.” “Sorry, Richard?” Catherine said as she grabbed Paul‟s shoulder and wheeled him around to face her. “Sorry to him? What about to me? What kind of sick accusation was that to make? Richard, I would never. You know me, Ricky. Paul‟s a child. Even still. He‟s a child, and you shouldn‟t be with him now.”

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“Don‟t you dare touch him.” Richard‟s voice burst from the pit of his roiling stomach, a bellow full of rage and pain that matched the sudden movement of his body thrusting between Paul‟s shamefaced slump and Catherine. Richard‟s hand snaked out and snatched one of Catherine‟s, squeezing hard as he used his grip on it to steer her backward toward the hallway. She struggled and protested, trying to wrench her hand free, squealing that he was hurting her, that Paul was a liar, and that Richard wasn‟t like this. He barely heard her. None of it registered anymore. Everything she‟d ever been to him was so far away, not weeks ago, when he still had hope, but years ago, when she still slept in his bed, when he still believed she loved him. Tears standing unshed in his eyes, Richard twisted her arm behind her back and marched her toward the front door with a coldness he could never have imagined feeling before. Reaching around her, he pulled open the door and shoved her onto the porch, releasing her with a suddenness that made her stumble before regaining her footing. “If you ever show your face around here again, I will make you sorry in ways you‟ve never imagined.” His voice was quiet now, dangerous in its absolute lack of sympathy or remembered intimacies. “I haven‟t known you in a very long time, Catherine. I was a willing participant in my own humiliation for years on end, but it ends now.” “Whatever he gives you, I can give you, Richard. Don‟t do this.” Catherine had turned to look at him with tears streaming down her face. She reached for him, her blue eyes wide and hurt but her expression hindered by Botox. He remembered when she‟d been able to tear his heart out with a look like that; now the alterations to her face made her look confused. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she swayed toward him like she might fall down. “You can fuck me in the ass. I‟ll call you Daddy. I don‟t care. Anything he does, I‟ll do. I‟ll make it better. You still want me. I know you do. You always have.”

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Richard‟s lip curled in distaste as he stepped back, closing the door on her except for a foot or so he blocked with his body. “I‟m Paul‟s now. He loves me, and it‟s not about the money. He works. He‟s a writer. He‟s been published in big fucking magazines. What do you do besides spend money? You can‟t give me what he does. He doesn‟t call me Daddy, you sicko. He doesn‟t make me jump through hoops for the privilege of putting my cock in him. He fucks me, Catherine. He makes me feel things you never could in a million years, and I love it. I need it. I denied myself so much for so long out of love of you, but I don‟t love you anymore. Now get the fuck off my lawn.” Closing the door on her, Richard locked and bolted it before leaning against it, his forehead pressed to the wood. Paul pressed up against Richard from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around him. His voice was thick again. “I‟m sorry, Richard. I‟m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. I should‟ve told you. I didn‟t want to hurt you. I‟m an idiot. Please don‟t be angry with me. I need you.” “What was she going to say?” Richard swallowed hard, fighting the urge to sob like a child. “Before you interrupted, what was she going to tell me? Is there something else I don‟t know, or was she going to lie to me some more?” “I don‟t know what she was going to say. But whatever it was, I didn‟t want to hear it.” Paul shook his head, looking down shamefaced. “I didn‟t even realize she was flirting with me at first. I thought she was an airhead and forgot I was in the house when she‟d come out of her room mostly naked or whatever.” Paul rested his head on Richard‟s shoulder. “Once I figured it out, I asked her to stop, and she said I should do it to show my dad I was more of a man than he was. She said…a lot of things. It was fucked-up.” Paul turned his eyes up to Richard. “But you know how suddenly Kyle was demanding a place of his own? I was going to move out to get away from her, and he wanted to come with me. I just told him I didn‟t like being supervised, but…”

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Paul squeezed him tighter. “Back then, Kyle was… Well, in high school everyone thought he was this weirdo rich kid dork. When I showed up with him at school, he was suddenly popular. Everyone wanted to be his friend. He didn‟t want me to disappear, and it was nice to feel needed. I know he can be a jerk, but we got really close. There‟s something really good about him deep down in there. Something honorable. We got to be best friends, so I didn‟t want to abandon him. So I found ways to be away from the house or made sure Kyle was around. Until I couldn‟t take it anymore, you know? But instead of letting me go, Kyle came with me.” Richard sighed, a long, ragged sound that hurt his throat but made his chest less tight. He turned in Paul‟s arms and gathered him in a hug, hating that life had been so dangerous for him, that Richard hadn‟t been able to protect him sooner. His head still reeled from the idea Catherine would have done any of those things, but the woman she‟d become over the years wasn‟t someone he‟d put it past. “I can‟t stay here. I can‟t keep living here where I lived with her, knowing how she is.” Richard shook his head and clung. “I want to go away and leave it all so far behind us that it can‟t touch us ever again.” He looked at Paul‟s face, studying it intently. “You‟re my Sundance, aren‟t you? Do you really love me? Enough to run away with me?” “I can write from anywhere, Richard. Finals are in a couple of weeks. I‟d like to finish that up, but after, I‟ll go anywhere you want to. If you need to leave right this minute, I can work something out with my professors.” Paul exhaled slowly, clinging to Richard. “I‟m your Sundance. We will ride off into the sunset. Only tell Kyle where we‟re going so he can reach us if he needs us. Have you been to Japan? My dad‟s band is big in Japan. They love me there. We can live like kings and pay for nothing.” “I don‟t want anyone to know who you are. You‟re mine.” Richard scowled, dark eyes narrowing as they stared into Paul‟s with intense focus. Trying to calm down, Richard sucked in a harsh, choked breath. His arms tightened on Paul,

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possessive and wild. “We‟ll go somewhere no one‟s ever heard of fucking Bruce Watkins, and we‟ll be together, just us, you and me, and you can write, and I‟ll…look for imports or something, and we can work together there. We can travel. We can see the world, places your father never took you, places that are for me and you, but we have to go tonight before I—before the inertia sets in and I suck it up. How I feel only matters to me for about a day, and then I shove it down deep and pretend it never happened, but I can‟t do that again, not about this. I can‟t afford to forgive her, Paul.” “I won‟t let you forgive her, Richard. I‟ll run away with you anywhere you want to go, anytime.” Paul caressed Richard‟s face, looking concerned. “But don‟t let her run you out of town. We can sell the house and get things worked out with your job.” Paul squeezed Richard, pulling him close. “She‟s not worth escaping. She doesn‟t have that kind of power. And neither does my dad. Only you get this with me, Richard. People have tried, but you‟re the only one I‟ve pursued—the only one I really thought was worth having. Nothing anyone outside of us says or does will change that.” Kissing Richard‟s ear, he said, “I want to be inside of you again. I want to be close to you. Then I want to talk to you about where we want to go. It doesn‟t matter if people know who I am because of my dad. They‟ll see I‟m with you and that I‟m happy and content and know they can‟t have me like you do. I love you, Richard. We‟ll go, and we‟ll go in our time. I won‟t let you stop being angry with her. And if you ever do start wanting her again, I‟ll throw you on the back of my bike and cycle us on out myself.” “You promise?” Richard melted against Paul in relief. He released Paul long enough to untie the belt of his robe. It fell open, and Richard pressed close again, his bare chest against Paul‟s and his cock rubbing against the silk boxers. “Being yours is all that makes me happy. You can‟t let anyone break it. It‟s so new, and it‟s still fragile, and everyone wants to tear it apart, and I can‟t stand it.”

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“Do you still love me, knowing what happened? I didn‟t touch her, Richard. I swear. I‟ll walk through the fire to be with you. It won‟t be easy, but no one but you can make me happy.” Paul slipped the boxers from his hips, letting them drop. “I have to admit, though, seeing the look on her face when you told her I‟m the one who fucks you almost makes everything worth it. Jesus, she‟d let you fuck her in the ass? That almost made me lose my boner.” Richard‟s soft, sad laugh disappeared into a kiss as he pulled Paul‟s naked body closer against his. “I love you no matter what, Paul. Love doesn‟t go away. Even with Catherine.” Richard hesitated, hating that this was how it ended, this was where all his years of devotion had gotten him. “You saw what she had to do to make me stop loving her, and if it wouldn‟t destroy this life we‟re building together, I still would. I don‟t know how to love small.” Richard drew his face back to look into Paul‟s eyes. “I‟ve never been enough for her, and maybe I won‟t be enough for you forever either, but what we‟ve shared…it‟s been worth anything, even if you move on someday like she did. Just like what she put me through was worth it to have my son. But instead of a child, you‟ve given me…myself. You‟ve made me complete in ways not even you can ever take away.” “Allow me my youthful illusions of thinking this will last forever, Richard.” Paul smiled wanly. He toyed with Richard‟s hair, ruffling it lightly. “You‟re my first love, you know, and you‟re supposed to believe it will last forever. I always thought that seemed so childish and stupid when it was someone else feeling it, but I feel it now, and I like that feeling. I want to keep it that way.” Paul pressed Richard against the door and reached behind him, sliding his fingers between his ass cheeks. “You‟re still wet from me. During her whole weird whatever, my cum was dribbling out of your ass, wasn‟t it? I think I should make sure you‟re filled with enough of me.” Richard moaned helplessly and widened his legs, pushing back against Paul‟s touches. He let himself sob finally, the thought that Paul really did want it to last

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forever dissolving any restraint he had left. It was only a few tears, a few hitched breaths, but it felt good to let it out. “Please,” Richard whispered as he reached for Paul‟s cock. “I want to believe this is forever too. You won‟t let anyone destroy it, will you? You‟ll go away with me soon, and it‟ll just be us?” “I won‟t let anyone ruin this, even if I have to move in so no one can bombard you.” Paul kissed Richard again and turned him to face the door. He pressed his cock against Richard‟s opening, giving him a second to adjust, then pressed into him, wrapping his arms around Richard as his chest crushed against Richard‟s back. “She was your first love, wasn‟t she? So you know now how much I love you. You know what you felt for her and how much you needed it to work. You know how completely you trusted her and needed her. I need you like that, Richard. I need to be with you, just like that.” More tears welled in Richard‟s eyes at Paul‟s words, and he lowered his head, bracing his palms flat against the door as Paul moved inside him slowly. Richard was as aroused as he was embarrassed that Paul could take him at a moment‟s notice like this; he was still slick with spunk from a few hours ago and so eager that all it took was a touch and a word to make him open wide and let Paul in. “I feel so guilty about it, but I love you now more than her then. I love you more, Paul. You deserve that love so much more, and my love goes so much deeper now than it could when I was some stupid, arrogant boy.” Richard turned his head to look at Paul, to steal kisses. “I never came for her as hard as I come for you.” Paul squeezed him tight, rocking his hips slowly to tease Richard‟s prostate. “Maybe you needed her to get to the place where you were ready for me. You needed to know where it went, to have that part of your life.” He wrapped his hand around Richard‟s cock to stroke him in time with his thrusts. “And Kyle had to meet me to bring me into your life. A lot of work went into getting us here; it‟d take a lot of work to get me back out of your life too.”

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“You won‟t go, though.” Richard moaned softly and spread his feet, his thighs trembling as Paul‟s body slammed into his. “You‟re young, but you knew what you were looking for; you‟re not some silly kid.” Putting all his weight on one arm and leaning farther forward, Richard pushed his ass back harder into Paul‟s thrusts to take him deeper. With his free arm, Richard reached back to pull Paul‟s hair, dragging his head close enough for Richard to kiss him hard on the mouth. “It‟s all for you now, and no one else… They were all taking the money, the stability, the—but you take me.” “I knew what I was looking for right when I found it.” Paul snapped his hips forward, thrusting hard and deep. He‟d learned Richard‟s body, knew how hard to take him. He kissed Richard roughly, grunting and biting Richard‟s tongue, nipping playfully at his lips when Richard pulled his hair. “We can move anywhere in the world; as long as you‟re there, I‟ll be happy.” Richard smiled and sighed, shuddering as Paul‟s hand pulled faster at his cock, as his thrusts sped to keep up. Heat radiated through Richard‟s body from those points of closest contact, from Paul‟s thick cock buried inside him and his strong hand jerking him. The friction turned to fire, setting his whole body ablaze, and it drove away the coldness Catherine had cast over him until Richard felt free again, whole the way only Paul could make him. Richard‟s toes curled against the hard floor, his feet arching and sliding against the smooth surface as Richard‟s muscles tightened and flexed. Paul‟s body moved into his like a piston, as steady and powerful as a machine, but the weight of his chest pressed against Richard‟s back and the reassuring intimacy of his arm tight around Richard‟s chest, hugging him desperately, overwhelmed Richard with how human and vulnerable Paul was. This confident man here with him now, making him feel so much, was the same frightened boy who‟d climbed into his lap last night and wept.

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“I believe you. I trust you. You‟ll always have me.” Richard kissed him, wishing so badly he could read Paul‟s mind. He wanted to know Paul understood how deeply he meant those words. Paul thrust faster into Richard, building up to their climax. He breathed heavily into Richard‟s ear, panting so Richard could hear exactly what this did to him. “I trust you. Everyone else has failed us.” Paul‟s breath caught as he tightened up, moving excitedly as he bit down on Richard‟s shoulder. Every time Paul made love to Richard, there was this moment of triumph so precious to Richard, this moment when all Paul‟s finesse, technique, and undeniable skill with his body vanished and there was only this gorgeous creature clinging to Richard and out of his mind with desire. Despite how it hurt when Paul lost control, despite how brutal his thrusts became and how his teeth and grip bruised, Richard could only bask in the glorious sense of power it gave him. Paul wanted him too, this badly, enough to turn incoherent and drive artlessly into Richard‟s body, enough to tremble and fill Richard inside with the wet, slick heat of his cum before he‟d even absorbed what was there before. Feeling it inside him, knowing it was his, for him, the proof Paul wanted what Richard gave him, sent Richard over the edge. Paul‟s fingers still wrapped tightly around his cock, and it jerked in Paul‟s grip, spitting thick ropes of spunk against the door until the pulses slowed and Paul‟s hand milked the last from him in sticky droplets that coated Paul‟s hand and then Richard‟s cock as Paul stroked it. The utter satisfaction of the moment wrung a throaty groan from Richard as he struggled to keep his footing. Eyes closed, face flushed, he tried to remember to keep breathing. After he caught his breath but before the rush faded, he asked, “Will you really move in with me?” Paul breathed down Richard‟s back, unsteady from his release. Before he answered, he turned Richard back around in his arms so he could face him. “If you

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want me to. I don‟t want to give anyone… I don‟t want to be like my dad just picking up and moving in.” He kissed Richard tenderly and then rubbed their noses together. “But Kyle doesn‟t need me there anymore. If anything, his self-esteem has reached such epic proportions that a few kicks to it might do him some good.” “You‟re nothing like your father, Paul, and you‟re right. Kyle doesn‟t need you there. He needs to quit using you as an excuse to date women he‟d never bring home.” Richard snorted and leaned against Paul, resting his chin against Paul‟s shoulder. Sighing, he held him closer and winced at the ache in his muscles as he shifted. “I want you with me. I want to live together. I know it‟s impulsive, but I‟ve been alone for so long. I can‟t help wanting to cling.” “I was going to ask if I could stay here a few days anyway, just because my dad doesn‟t know where this is, and even if he found out, I don‟t think he‟d have the nerve to come here knowing you‟re willing to punch him in the face.” Paul chuckled. “We could try it for a few days—maybe until next weekend—and then if you want me to stay, I‟ll move the rest of my stuff. If not, no harm, no foul, we‟re not in that place yet. Either way, we‟re going out of town together soon, right?” “Soon.” Richard smiled and lifted his head to look at Paul, tracing the lines of his sweet, earnest face with his eyes. “In almost no time. Just us, traveling. You‟ll write, and I‟ll…figure out exactly what my boss would like me to do, and we‟ll sell this place. I‟ll move on, really and truly, with you.”

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Epilogue “You‟re serious?” Paul flopped back against the wicker chair. It let out a meek protest against Paul‟s excited shifting. “Yeah, I know you wouldn‟t joke. It‟s incredible.” Paul stared out at the beautiful view of Lake Como from the balcony. His green tea was cooling on the wicker table next to his sleek laptop. The cursor blinked where he‟d left off in the middle of a passage of an article he was writing about the best places to bike in Italy. Since he and Richard had moved here, they‟d spent nearly every weekend exploring the countryside. After a few more amazed and excited exclamations, Paul hung up the phone and turned to peer around their quaint home, furnished lovingly after many of those countryside adventures—having antiques and homemade blankets delivered during the week where Paul could receive and arrange them during the day. He padded over the sleek tile, checking the exquisitely carved grandfather clock to see it was only three. Richard wouldn‟t be back for a couple of hours, and this wasn‟t the kind of news Paul wanted to impart over the phone. Bounding down to their tiny wine cellar, Paul pulled a couple of bottles they‟d set aside for special occasions, trying to decide if this really was special enough to warrant one of the vintages. Pressing his lips together, he decided it probably was worth the Masseto and headed back up the stairs with it. After a glance at the fridge, Paul decided to head out on his bike to the alimentari to pick up basics for an insalata Caprese to go with their wine and celebrations. Paul was having a slightly more difficult time picking up Italian than

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Richard, who already looked and sounded like a native. But then, Richard was out among the people all day and not at home pounding out words in English. “Your man, he tells me to warn him when George Clooney is returning,” said the handsome grocer checking Paul out in more ways than one. Paul laughed. “You warn me when Madonna comes into town.” The man laughed as he handed Paul his change in euros. “I think you no need to worry about being lonely.” “I‟ll keep that in mind.” Paul felt his face grow hot. One thing for Italians, they weren‟t shy in expressing appreciation for what they thought was beautiful. “Shame you wear that helmet. You should take it off, stay?” Paul pushed his sunglasses back on. “Sorry, I‟ve got to get back to the house. Richard will be home soon.” The man waved his hand absently and looked like he was about to say something more, but Paul didn‟t think he could take any more compliments. He hopped on his bike and rode home through the narrow streets, pausing now and then when amazed tourists wandered into his way, excited to photograph every inch of beauty, like they could capture little fragments of it to take home with them. It still awed him that he got to live here, at least until Richard‟s work moved them somewhere else beautiful. In the kitchen, Paul left the ingredients he‟d just purchased on the counter, and seeing he still had a good half hour until Richard got home, he hopped into the shower so he could wear the new luxurious silk pants Richard had brought him with compliments from one of his suppliers, made with loving care right there in Como. After his shower, his phone buzzed again. His father. Paul made a face. His father had been trying to invite himself over ever since he found out where Paul was living. He claimed to have his own money now that he‟d sold rights to his song to an American auto manufacturer for use in their annoying commercials for trucks roughly the size of elephants. The new influx of cash seemed to give Bruce some

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sense of entitlement when it came to talking to Paul, like Paul should suck up to him to ensure his inheritance. Though he and Paul were again on speaking terms, it was because Bruce was his dad and not because he might get something out of it. Anyway, at the moment, Paul didn‟t want to speak to anyone but Richard, so he sent the call to voice mail and promised himself he‟d call his dad later. There was one other person he wanted to share this news with, and that was Kyle. From what he could tell, Kyle had calmed down since he‟d left, and the miles between them had only strengthened their friendship. Without Paul as an excuse, Madison had to do her spying straight-out, following Kyle around like he was hiding Paul in his back pocket. Through a mildly smarmy scheme of offering hints to Paul‟s whereabouts in exchange for dates, Kyle had gotten Madison to spend time with him, and soon the blackmail dates became real dates. Now, evidently, Maddy was hounding Kyle for the whereabouts of an engagement ring. Paul snickered to himself as he thought about where that relationship was going, but it did sound like she was whipping Kyle into shape. Richard hadn‟t been wrong about those two. Maybe his experiences had given him insight Paul had lacked. Either way, it was great living in a world where Richard and Kyle‟s phone conversations involved more fatherly advice and fewer ill-fated efforts at extortion. He opened the mozzarella and started cutting the tomatoes. As soon as she got that ring, Maddy would be on the baby train with Kyle. Popping a piece of cheese in his mouth, Paul wondered what those babies would look like. Probably like what babies would look like if Paul and Richard could reproduce. And Richard would be a grandfather. Paul chuckled at the thought as he arranged the tomato slices on the plate, topping them with basil and a light smattering of dressing. Richard arrived as the sun was setting over the lake, his face flushed from biking up the hill to their place. A warm smile crinkled his eyes as soon as he saw Paul, his teeth white in his suntanned face. Italy agreed with Richard so much more

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than being stuck behind some desk; he seemed radiant here, healthy and young. “Hello, handsome. I made a fantastic deal today. If I don‟t get a raise for this, I‟ll be shocked. How was your day?” Crossing the space between them in a few long strides, Richard caught Paul in his arms and planted an enthusiastic kiss on his mouth, rough at first and then sweetly lingering. As Richard pulled back and looked at Paul, brown eyes bright with excitement, he breathed Paul in and sighed, seeming so happy already without even knowing there was anything to celebrate. “My day was great.” Paul grinned and picked up a piece of mozzarella to draw over Richard‟s lips before poking it into his mouth. “You are so sexy when you‟ve made a deal.” And he really was sexy when he was so confident and proud of himself. Richard had always been fit and put a lot of work into his appearance, but here in Italy, with all of their activity and natural eating, Richard looked carved out of wood. He spent a few moments admiring his man, letting the contented silence draw out, then broke it with a few choice words. “I got a call today…from my agent.” Richard looked stunned, then excited, and then Richard wrapped his arms around Paul even tighter as the older man tried to hurry and swallow his mouthful of mozzarella so he could speak without being rude. “Your day was great and your agent called, and that means a possible forthcoming contract of some variety for my genius boyfriend?” Richard still said the word boyfriend like it was in a foreign language, but his delight was impossible to miss. George Clooney seriously had nothing on him. Paul bit his lip and nodded. “Yes. I sold my young adult manuscript. He said the publishing house was so excited about it that he wished he‟d asked for a bigger advance. They‟re already asking if it could be a series.” Paul bit his lip and tapped the Masseto. “I thought maybe… I mean…it‟s my first novel. And it‟s going to be published. For real.”

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Richard‟s sudden sunny grin and the way he reached for the bottle and a corkscrew answered the unspoken question of how significant he felt the achievement was. He made quick work of opening the bottle and passed it back to Paul so he could wrap his arms around him again, clinging almost worshipfully. “You make me so proud I can hardly bear it. I never thought I‟d be with someone who does so much to…” Richard trailed off, his voice thick, and then directed a meaningful look at the open bottle. “Let‟s drink all of that tonight.” Paul nodded. His cheeks felt hot and to his surprise, wet. It felt so good to have someone he respected be proud of him. He kissed Richard hard and pulled him close. “You make me so happy. The only thing better than being published is getting to share it with you, Richard.” Richard seemed startled by the sudden intensity, but he melted against Paul as he always did—quick to respond to the affection and eager to soak it up. His ducked head said louder than words that he was touched and embarrassed, still awkward after all these months with being personally important to someone. Richard let out a long, shaky breath as he pressed closer against Paul‟s body, his hands sliding down to squeeze Paul‟s ass. “We really do share it, don‟t we? Our triumphs, our bad days… More triumphs than bad days, too.” “Yes, with only the occasional argument over furniture.” Paul grinned. “I still say that chair is comfortable and worth it.” He bumped his hip into Richard‟s before slipping away to grab two goblets and pour wine for each of them. “I really can‟t believe I‟m actually going to be an author. I mean, not merely a journalist, but a real author with a real novel.” “Oh, but you are. I‟m sleeping with a soon to be famous novelist. I am a lucky, lucky man, and everyone will be even more jealous of me than they already were. I‟ll be investing in a baseball bat. Do they have those here?” Richard grinned broadly and held out his hand to take the glass as Paul offered it. One of Richard‟s arms slipped around Paul‟s waist, hand gripping his hip and fingers stroking the

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bone through his clothes. Richard‟s other hand lofted his glass in what would probably be the first toast of many. “To ten thousand nights more spent in one another‟s arms, ten thousand days of bicycles and sunshine, and a long, long life together to cherish every moment of your inevitable success. Salute.” Richard kissed Paul and clinked their glasses, his eyes sparkling where they stayed fastened on Paul over the crystal rim as he took a sip. Paul smiled, still gazing at Richard. Seeing him this happy—as happy as Paul was—made his stomach flutter. They‟d both spent so much time feeling needed but unwanted—there for other people even when no one was there for them. Now they had each other, and Paul no longer felt the pang of constant loneliness. Sometimes it was hard to part with Richard for even those hours he spent at work, but Paul never doubted Richard would be home that night. He lifted his glass to his lips. The Masseto hit Paul‟s tongue, robust and bold— well worth the hype and the price. Once he‟d had his sip, he felt compelled to taste it on Richard‟s lips, where it tasted even sweeter.

Loose Id Titles by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid Black Gold I’ll Be Your Man Le Jazz Hot

About the Authors Clancy Nacht Clancy Nacht squeezes writing in amongst her Web development day job, her husband, and her three feral rescue cats. Living in Austin, she indulges her love of indie music, photography, and constant influx of new faces a college town provides. With a major in Journalism, she has written for newspapers and magazines but did not delve into professional erotic writing until 2009. Since then she has been published by Ravenous Romance, Noble Romance, and Dreamspinner Press. She watches “House” for the House/Wilson moments, but secretly thinks House should get with Chase, considers sarcasm a fine art, truly believes the zombie apocalypse is coming, and watches a lot of porn. And she will never, ever grow up.

Thursday Euclid The Thursday Euclid (scientific name T. Euclidus) is a strange and elusive creature dwelling in the Texas Gulf Coast region. Frequently mistaken for Bigfoot, Chupacabra, or the monster of the week, T. Euclidus is, in fact, a 20-something black sheep with a penchant for indie music, fedoras, and hot and sour soup. Black Gold is Thursday's first published novel.