The Truth About Al

THE TRUTH ABOUT AL

…“Elliot, I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you, I swear.” Elliot shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Al knew it did. It mattered to Elliot a lot, otherwise he wouldn’t have spent the past year so hurt he’d put up extra thick walls to keep Al out. “I’m sorry,” Al said again. “From the bottom of my heart.” “It’s done, over with. And you know what? We’re done here.” He pushed past Al again, and this time Al let him go. Or tried to, but couldn’t let him get far. There was still too much unsaid. He turned and grabbed Elliot’s hand. “Don’t go.” But then he realized Elliot’s back was to him and he probably hadn’t heard, so he moved around him, until they were face to face again and standing so close he could feel the heat emanating from Elliot’s body. “Don’t go. Please.” “God, just stop!” Elliot groaned. “I don’t want to do this anymore. You wanted me to tell you the truth and I did, but there’s nothing else to say, Al.” “There’s everything else to say. I listened to you. Now will you listen to me, and let me explain?” “It won’t matter. Nothing’s changed between us. You’re still a rich, sexy, entitled playboy who’s hiding in the closet and I’m still a poor, hard of hearing, openly gay nerd who’s not willing to be anybody’s sideline. The two of us, we’re not mixable. And it’s too late to be friends. Nothing’s changed.” “You’re wrong,” Al said quietly. “You’re wrong, Elliot. Everything’s changed.” He cupped the man’s cheeks between his hands. Elliot’s eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise as Al drew him close. And then Al lowered his mouth over his and kissed him…

ALSO BY M. L. RHODES Always Bring The Heat Couplings The Draegan Lords The Elf And Shoemaker Falling Fires Of Ballian Hearts & Bones Into The Woods Lords Of Kellesborne Music Of The Night Never Let Go Out Of My Mind Passion Passion & Satisfaction The Professor’s Secret Passion Satisfaction Shattered Souls Deep True Of Heart Under My Skin, Vols. I & II Vertigo Wanting

THE TRUTH ABOUT AL BY M. L. RHODES

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

THE T RUTH ABOUT AL AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2011 by M. L. Rhodes ISBN 978-1-61124-146-4 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To my very own physics geek.

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CHAPTER 1 AUSTIN—Margaret Baxter today formally announced her candidacy for United States Senate. Baxter, a Republican and lifelong resident of Delacorte, Texas, was mayor of Delacorte for eight years, and currently serves as a member of the Texas House of Representatives. She attended Baylor University and the University of Texas School of Law. Margaret has been married for thirty-two years to attorney Jamison A. Baxter. They have two children: Marsha Elaine Baxter Edelsten and Albert James Baxter, as well as one granddaughter. Both of Baxter’s children are following in their parents’ footsteps in the 1

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legal profession. Marsha is an attorney with Drake, Bellingham, and Jones in Richmond, Virginia, and Albert will begin studying law this fall at the University of Texas at Austin. Margaret Baxter’s experiences in the field of law for the past thirty years, and proudly serving her hometown and state, have given her a strong background that will stand her in good stead in Washington. She’s a dynamic candidate with a strong history of fiscal responsibility and a solid commitment to family and conservative values. His stomach twisting in a knot, Al Baxter fought the urge to throw his iPhone at the closest wall. Instead, he dragged a hand through his short-cropped hair and continued to stare at the damned article on his phone screen, wishing he’d never opened the email it was attached to. “Family and conservative values,” he muttered, shaking his head. Why did it feel like that line had been written specifically for him to see, to dig home a point, and remind him what was expected of him? Same thing for the bit about him attending UT. He’d told his parents a dozen times that he’d already withdrawn his paperwork and wasn’t going there, but they’d ignored him. He hated to tell them, but publicly pressuring him like this only convinced him even more that he’d done the right thing by calling their bluff. They’d thought he’d give in to their demands if they dangled the threat of stealing away his prized carrot—his scholarship to UT Law, which they, as alumni with friends in high places on the scholarship board, could have yanked on a whim, and 2

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their continued financial support until he finished law school. Follow our rules, play the game, or else… had been the ultimatum. When Al refused to play their brand of hardball and told them, Fine, I’ll put myself through law school elsewhere, you could have heard a pin drop in their shocked silence. They’d been in denial ever since that their ploy hadn’t worked. They were still convinced he’d cave and come running home. So much so that now, apparently, they were stooping to public announcements in newspapers to shame him into returning. Lifting his gaze, he stared across the tavern where he tended bar five nights a week, fighting anger and a dull throb of betrayal. He knew his mom probably hadn’t written the press release herself—one of her aides had—but he had no doubt she’d provided the information for it and had approved it before it went to print. Which meant nothing he’d said to his family over the past seven months had meant anything to them. Nothing. He brought his gaze back to his phone and reread the email that had preceded the article about his mother’s candidacy… It’s official now. Just remember how much time and money your mother has invested in this campaign. She’s been working for years toward this goal and you will not do anything to compromise her future. Your loyalty, your responsibility, is to your family, Al. No more surprises or screw ups, and no more attitude from you. Your mother and I expect you to be at her campaign kick-off party and fundraiser on July 15th. Bring a decent girl with a good background as your date. We will present a united family front and leave no room for wagging tongues. 3

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Wagging tongues. Al huffed out an irritated breath. God forbid, not the wagging tongues. So much better to lie than to have anyone discover the sainted Baxters had skeletons in their closet. Namely Al’s irresponsible and immature indiscretion as his parents liked to call it. He didn’t know why they didn’t say his dirty little secret and be done with it, because that’s exactly how they acted. Can’t have the public find out about Al’s dirty little secret. His once warm relationship with his parents had turned decidedly cool since last fall. At Thanksgiving break he’d gone home to Texas from college here in Colorado with thoughts of turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie on his mind. Instead, he discovered the secret he’d been keeping from his family since his freshman year in college had finally come to light. And nothing had been the same in the Baxter clan ever since. He sighed. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the tenuous position his mom was in because of her political career, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to support her. He loved her, and even if he didn’t see eye-to-eye with her on every issue, he’d always been willing to stand by her side during and following her various campaigns because she was good at what she did and she truly cared about the people she represented. But this new business, her run for Senate, had brought a far more intense amount of pressure on her and their family than anything else ever had. And for the first time, he was shocked at some of her rigid stances and her insistence that Al back her implicitly, even if it meant him spending the next four, eight, twelve—God, who knew how long—years ignoring his own convictions and lying about his own life. There was no give on her part, on either of his parents’ parts, and no willingness to even 4

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listen. And that’s what bothered him the most. That and the icy distance that had formed between the three of them. His father hadn’t signed the email. No Love, Dad or Talk to you soon. Nothing except the standard business signature that came attached to all his father’s emails with his name, his position as senior partner at Baxter & Brown law firm, and his assorted phone numbers and contact information. Not that Al had really expected anything else at this point, but it still hurt. A damp rag slapped onto the bar next to Al, startling him from his thoughts. “Are you actually planning to work the rest of the night? Or maybe you’d rather just keep talking or texting or whatever the hell you’re doing with your latest girl du jour while I handle everything here.” Al dragged in a deep breath, attempting to keep his temper in check. Crap. He did not need this tonight of all nights. Not from him. Elliot Cullimore—the bane of Al’s existence. The guy who kept up a wall around himself the size of Texas, would argue with him about the Earth being round if Al said as much simply because it was Al who said it, and who would clearly rather be anywhere except wherever Al was. Which was where the bane part came in… Because in spite of Elliot’s standoffishness with him, when Al turned to face the man—even though he was prepared for it, knew it was coming—he was almost blindsided by the deep ache of longing that hit him square in the gut. One look at Elliot’s hazel eyes glaring at him in irritation, the unruly waves of brown hair curling over his ears, the stubborn cleft 5

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in his chin, and his body, standing so close, wafting the scent of warm male and a hint of Old Spice, and Al was staggered by the intense feelings he experienced just being near the guy. He found himself torn between the desire to pull Elliot into his arms and massage away the tired, troubled lines that always seemed to be etched on his forehead, and backing him up against the bar and kissing the hell out of him. And none of it made any damn sense. Elliot went out of his way to hold Al at arm’s length, yet Al couldn’t look at the man without wanting him. And it had been that way the entire six months they’d worked together. How fucked up was that? “’Course I’m workin’,” Al said, making sure he faced Elliot while he spoke. He kept his voice calm—an art he’d perfected around Elliot because Al wasn’t about to let him know he got to him. Although, the calmer he was, the more irritated it usually made Elliot. And, hell, maybe that was part of the reason Al did it—some stupid desire to needle the man just a little since nothing nice he ever said to him got a reaction. “Yeah, I see that. You’re breaking out in a sweat you’re working so hard.” “Give it a rest, due. It’s Wednesday night, we’re a half-hour from closin’, and the place is deader ’n a Goth party. It’s not like there’s anyone beatin’ on the bar to be served.” He swept a hand to indicate the length of the bar where, aside from a couple of regulars who already had full glasses, no one lingered to catch his and Elliot’s attention. “And not that you’re gonna care, because you always seem to assume the worst about me, but I was readin’ an email from my folks.” Another twinge of hurt and betrayal at his parents’ attitude hit 6

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him, causing him to wince and his shoulders to slump. He clicked off the screen on his phone and pocketed it in his jeans with a sigh. Elliot raised an eyebrow, but for a change didn’t snap back a retort. His forehead wrinkled and for a split second his gaze softened and it almost looked like he was about to say something that wasn’t caustic. Al found himself holding his breath, waiting to hear it. “Is everything—” Before Elliot could finish, however, with the worst possible timing ever, a group of female co-eds approached and, ignoring Elliot completely, lounged against the bar across from Al. Two of them slid onto barstools, while the third, a brunette named Jocelyn, stood between them with a flirtatious smile on her face. Jocelyn came in fairly often, usually with an entourage of friends. Al often wondered why, of all places, she came to Dale’s—which was an everyday person kind of watering hole—when there were half a dozen trendier bars and clubs that seemed more her speed. High Peaks, Colorado was a college town, after all. “Al,” she said with a fake pout, “we’ve been here all night and you haven’t danced with any of us.” Al groaned internally and snuck a glance at Elliot, whose face had flushed and whose jaw was suddenly clenched tight. The man rolled his eyes, shook his head, and muttered, “It just never fucking ends.” He stomped away to the other end of the bar, leaving Elliot to stare at his stiff back, wishing he could have heard whatever it was Elliot had been about to say before the girls interrupted. With regret, he returned his attention to the co-eds. “Sorry, ladies. I’m at work. No dancin’ on the job. And besides, the band’s about to wrap it up in the next couple of minutes.” Hell, if he’d been in the local country band, he would have quit playing an hour 7

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ago. Business hadn’t been this slow in ages. Jocelyn stuck her lip out farther. “There’s still time before they stop. Surely you must get breaks here so you can get out from behind that bar for a little while. Just one song?” she wheedled. The fake pouting thing…really not a good look on her. If she thought she was being cute, Al just found it obnoxious. He pasted on a smile he really didn’t feel. “Afraid not. Can I get you somethin’ else to drink?” But she wouldn’t let it go. “Make the deaf guy cover for you. It’s not like he can hear the music or dance anyway, so let him make himself useful and watch the bar while you have a little fun.” Jocelyn gestured toward Elliot, and Al saw that Elliot’s back was still turned, which meant he most likely hadn’t caught her words. Although Elliot wasn’t fully deaf and could hear some with the help of hearing aids, he did best when he was looking directly at the person speaking. But even if Elliot hadn’t heard her, Al had, and anger surged through him at her arrogant tone and her easy dismissal of the man because of his disability. “He has a name, which you ought to know by now since you’re in here almost every week. It’s Elliot. And, yeah, he can hear the music. I’m sure he can also dance if he chooses to. As for why he can’t cover for me—it’s not his job to pick up my slack. Now, can I get you somethin’ else to drink? Last call.” He forced another smile, but even he was surprised at the grit behind his words. So, apparently, were Jocelyn and her friends. “Geez, Al, I was just asking.” “And I’m just answering, darlin’.” “Fine,” Jocelyn said with a huff. “You don’t have to be so pissy. We’ll have three more cosmos. And not so light on the 8

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vodka this time. I’m barely even buzzed.” Al took down the glasses and started the drinks, using the same amount of vodka he always did when he made a cosmopolitan. She’d never complained about her drinks before, so he knew it was just her way of being snippy at him because she didn’t get what she wanted. As he worked, Jocelyn and her pals talked about some party they’d been at the night before and how blitzed they’d been, and how sexy the frat boys were they’d danced with, and how hungover they’d been this morning when they’d all woken up in one of the frat boy’s beds. Al mentally rolled his eyes. If they were trying to impress him, or make him jealous, or just prove how easily he could get them in his bed if he wanted, they were barking up the wrong tree. Al had been with his fair share of women, but one thing he’d never gone for were shallow party girls who depended on their looks to get them through life. Though he appreciated a beautiful female form like he would a work of art, the thrill factor for him…not so much. Which was why every girl he’d ever gone out with had had brains and goals and a sense of purpose in their lives—because that’s what he admired. He thought of Giselle, his last girlfriend, who’d graduated in his class last month, summa cum laude, and was now in Boston getting ready to attend Harvard Law. She had a bombshell figure, yeah, but it had been the person inside that had attracted him to her. And even though they’d ended their romantic relationship months ago, she was still a good friend he talked to regularly. She was the one who’d helped him finally, slowly begin to accept some things about himself he’d been struggling with for ages, and had done it without judgment or criticism. 9

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The co-eds droned on, with bursts of laughter punctuating their conversation every few seconds. “Be right back. Need to get some more cranberry juice,” Al murmured, glad for a reason to escape them, even if it was just for a few seconds. He went through the swinging door into the kitchen and pulled a new container of juice from one of the refrigerators. As he returned to the front, he saw Elliot pouring two glasses of draft beer for a middle-aged couple who’d responded to the “last call” announcement a few minutes ago. He chatted with them a moment after he’d set the glasses in front of them, and one of them said something that actually caused him to smile. The smile softened the usual tired tension on Elliot’s face and lit up his eyes. Regret tugged at Al. Why couldn’t he ever get Elliot to smile like that anymore? He used to be able to, back when they’d first met. Before they ever started working together at Dale’s, they’d had a lit class together spring semester a year and a half ago that they’d both been taking to fulfill a humanities requirement. Al had attempted to strike up a friendship with Elliot early on. He’d recognized right away that Elliot wasn’t the type to form instant bonds with people and that it took him time to warm up to someone, but Al was patient and didn’t mind waiting as he slowly coaxed the soft-spoken man out of his shell. They’d talked before class several times, then sat together and compared notes, and, finally, mid-semester, on a warm spring day, they’d gone for coffee when Al had spontaneously asked him and Elliot had agreed. They’d ended up spending several really good hours together talking and hanging out. Al had liked him, a lot—Elliot 10

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was smart, a good conversationalist once you got him talking, and funny, with an offbeat sense of humor that kind of crept out unexpectedly when he was relaxed. In retrospect, Al realized that even back then he’d found Elliot sexy in a sweet, understated, nerdy kind of way. Probably, at that point, he’d already begun to have the first stirrings of the deeper feelings he had about Elliot now, he just hadn’t recognized them for what they were at the time. However, the very next class period after the coffee, Elliot had withdrawn and started keeping his distance. He avoided Al in class and out of it. And every time Al had suggested they go grab some coffee again Elliot had given him a dark look and made an excuse. Finally, when it was obvious he wasn’t ever going to change the man’s mind, he’d stopped trying. But Elliot’s backpedaling on their friendship had left a strange hole in him. He’d seen him around campus a few times after the class was over, but they’d never interacted. Elliot had graduated that semester, and now was in grad school working on an advanced degree in physics. Al had only finished his undergrad in poly-sci last month, so it’s not like they would ever have crossed paths in a classroom again. But after the fiasco at home last Thanksgiving, Al had come back to school determined to stay in Colorado. To do that he’d needed a decent paying job in order to come up with his part of the rent on the house he and his friends Ben and Jeremy shared and to pay any extra expenses for law school here at the university in the fall beyond the financial aid he’d scraped together at the last minute when he’d changed plans mid-year. So he’d answered an ad for a bartender at Dale’s Tavern, which wasn’t owned by Dale at all—it was owned by an older woman 11

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named Fran who’d bought it from someone else, who’d bought it from Dale like thirty years ago and no one had ever bothered to change the name. Fran had taken an instant liking to Al and had hired him on the spot even though he had no bartending experience. She’d had him come in the following weekend, in the mornings before the bar opened, and given him a crash course on drink mixing, then put him to work the very next Monday night, telling him he’d be with a more experienced bartender who’d gladly help him if he ran into trouble. Al’s first night of work, who did the more experienced bartender turn out to be? Elliot. Who’d taken one look at him and instantly put up the damned wall that kept him on one side and Al firmly on the other. And even after six months of working side-byside four or five nights a week, Al wasn’t any closer to finding a way past it. The worst part was, he still didn’t even know why Elliot had shut him out, and when he’d tried to broach the topic, the stubborn ass had either ignored him or glared at him like he should already damn well know. Yeah, because mind reading…right up there at the top of my list of super skills. “Are our drinks ready yet?” one of the co-eds asked—not Jocelyn, the quieter blonde who looked at him with an almost shy smile. Al realized he’d finished their cocktails and been standing there staring blankly at them for several seconds. Get your head out of your ass, Baxter. Al set the glasses in front of the girls. They each dug in their teeny-tiny purses and pulled out cash to pay. After the money had been exchanged, relieved to have his obligations to them fulfilled, Al walked to the end of the bar. He was so happy to get away from them he could barely work up the energy to be pissed that Jocelyn 12

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had stiffed him a tip. As her friends headed back to their table, however, Jocelyn lingered, moving down the bar to stand near him again. Now, with only the wooden gate between them that prevented customers from entering the employees only area behind the bar, she leaned against it and gave him an assessing look. “Did you need something else?” Al asked. “I just don’t know why you defend him.” She nodded toward Elliot, who was now organizing whiskey bottles on the shelf a few feet away. He was half turned toward them, but seemed to be concentrating on his task. “What are you talking about?” “Well”—she leaned in closer to him, almost conspiratorially, although she didn’t bother to lower her voice—“you know he’s gay.” “And?” Al didn’t bother trying to keep the irritated edge out of his tone. “And if you keep acting all knight in shining armor about him and looking at him the way you were earlier, people might start to talk.” Before Al could fire off the response that burned at the tip of his tongue, she stretched across the gate, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. For a second Al was so shocked at her actions he froze, but then anger kicked in and his hands moved up to her arms to set her away from him. He didn’t have to, though, because she ended the kiss on her own. Her expression was smug. “I just wanted you to remember how good it feels to kiss a girl. Before you get a bad reputation from hanging with the wrong people.” Her gaze briefly flitted over 13

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his shoulder, then she turned and flounced off to join her friends. What the hell! Al glared at her retreating back and fought the urge to drag a hand across his mouth. To what? Get rid of her cooties? Jeez, was he ten years old again? He just knew he didn’t want her taste or her snarky innuendos clinging to him. Intolerant people pissed the hell out of him, but being rude and manipulative on top of it—that pretty much pushed him to his limit. As Jocelyn rejoined her friends, laughing, he had half a mind to pay a visit to her table and tell her in graphic terms just what he thought of her stunt. It took most of Al’s self-control to remember he was at work and he’d better reel in his temper. He needed this job too much to risk having word get back to Fran that he’d told off a customer, even if the customer deserved it. With a final glower at her, he took the only small comfort he could under the circumstances—he turned his back on her. But when he did, he found himself face-to-face with the man in question, who’d come up behind him at some point. Ah shit. Al didn’t know how much of the encounter Elliot had seen and heard, but from the look on his face, it had been enough. A flicker of hurt vulnerability played over Elliot’s features. He quickly shuttered it behind a dull, emotionless mask, but not quickly enough. Al knew what he’d seen and it had the effect of a brick slamming into his gut. Before he could explain what had been going on, though, Elliot turned and stalked away. “Elliot, wait!” He disappeared through the swinging door into the kitchen. Al started to follow, then realized he couldn’t leave the bar unattended. One of Fran’s strict rules. 14

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“Damn it all!” With a sigh of frustration, he wondered why everything he did around Elliot seemed to be wrong.

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CHAPTER 2 Breathing hard, with his heart in his throat, Elliot Cullimore leaned against the kitchen wall in the alcove next to the tavern’s rear door, out of sight should anyone—Al—come looking for him. The kitchen was quiet, thank God. Dale’s stopped serving food at ten P.M. so the cooking staff had long since gone home, which Elliot was grateful for because he didn’t want to have to explain himself to anyone. It wasn’t like him to shirk off work, but he couldn’t have stayed out there another minute without either saying a bunch of shit he knew he probably shouldn’t, or doing something really stupid and horrifying, like letting Al see just how much the girl’s words and his actions had hurt. He dragged in another shaky breath, rested his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. 16

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Just once he wished he could deal with Al without his blood pressure skyrocketing and a damn pain forming in his chest. Usually he could suppress his reactions to the man by keeping his interactions with Al to a minimum and maintaining a passable, if sometimes tense, working civility. But tonight…it seemed like everything had gone south from the moment he’d found Al engrossed on his phone. Al was usually easy-going, with a quick wit and a too-charming-for-his-own-good smile. But when he’d told Elliot the email he was reading was from his parents, there’d been no smile, and the usual twinkle in his amber eyes had gone dull. At the sight of his slumped shoulders, something in Elliot’s chest had tightened and he’d found himself wondering if everything was okay, and realized it actually bothered him that it might not be. He’d just been about to ask Al when the man’s harem came up and interrupted. Which had snapped Elliot back to reality and reminded him all over again that Al wouldn’t have any interest in his sympathy or concern because he’d always have a string of women lining up to take care of his needs. But that hadn’t been the end of it. When Elliot had heard what the woman was saying, warning Al away from him because he was gay, and then he’d seen them kissing, it was like in one dull beat of his heart he’d gone back to being fourteen again, coming around the corner of the lockers after school and seeing Dave Adams, the guy he’d had a crush on forever, who’d acted like he really cared about Elliot, kissing Tammy Stockton. The weird deaf kid? Dave had said. He’s just some freak who follows me around. I think he’s a fag and it creeps me out. He could still remember how the pain that had ripped through him that day had cut so deep he could barely breathe. He’d backed 17

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away, needing to put distance between him and Dave and Tammy, but had tripped and ended up sprawled across the tile floor in the hallway like a scrawny sack of potatoes. One of his hearing aids had come out and, as he’d scrambled to his hands and knees and crawled toward it, Dave and Tammy and several other students had come to investigate the ruckus. Most of them had laughed at him. Tammy had curled her lip, much like Al’s groupie tonight had, and muttered, “Freak!” Dave had only looked at him with a sort of sad disgust, and that, somehow, had hurt worst of all. Elliot scuffed a hand over his face. Jesus, he thought he’d put all that crap behind him long ago. He was twenty-five years old, for fuck’s sake. A clear-headed, eyes-wide-open adult who knew people could be assholes and had been coping with it for a good chunk of his life. Something like what happened tonight shouldn’t have fazed him—it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard lots of derogatory comments over the years. But what had gotten to him was that it was Al. Maybe he hadn’t been the one saying the words, but he hadn’t told the girl to shut up either. And when she’d leaned across the gate and thrown herself at him, Elliot didn’t have a perfect view, but it sure looked to him like Al was going to go for it because he lifted his hands up to her arms as if he were planning to pull her closer. As he’d watched them together, shock and pain had risen up from somewhere inside Elliot, like ghosts that had been hunkered down and waiting for the right opportunity to come back and haunt him. He’d been caught off guard by how hard it had hit him. And it felt as shitty now as it had when he was fourteen. He sniffed and swiped the back of his hand over his damp eyes, pissed at himself for letting Al Baxter get to him. Again. He knew better, damn it. He fucking knew better! 18

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Realizing that wallowing wasn’t going to help anything, he straightened and rubbed his eyes a final time to clear away any lingering remains of emotion should someone come in the kitchen. Then he took the two tubs of dirty glasses he and Al had set in the back during the night over to the big industrial sink to wash them. Normally one of them took care of them after the bar closed, but right now he needed a few more minutes of solitude before facing the man who was making him certifiably insane. It seemed every week that passed his stress level when he was around Al built more and more. He felt constantly torn over wanting to put an end to the torture of seeing the man, while at the same time some perverse part of him counted the hours until he could see him. He’d tried to sort through all the complicated feelings, tried to understand why he kept putting himself through this, had even tried to convince himself he should quit Dale’s and find another job and completely take the temptation out of reach. Being a hard of hearing person working in a bar wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world, anyway, because of all the noise of conversations and music. There had to be other things out there that would pay as decently. But in the end he couldn’t bring himself to do it, which only made him feel more confused than ever. It left him wondering how much longer he could last before every piece of his heart would end up shattered. *

*

*

A few minutes after one A.M. the swinging doors into the kitchen creaked and Elliot tensed, expecting to see Al coming through in search of him. But it was Mandy, the cocktail waitress who’d worked the late shift, coming to get her things. 19

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“Hey, Elliot.” “Hey.” “Sloooow night tonight.” She pulled her shoulder-length dark hair out of its ponytail and shook it free as she spoke. “It’s like everyone’s gone out of town on vacation or something. Must be nice.” She opened her locker, untied her apron and shoved it into the metal cube, then pulled out her purse. “Yeah, must be.” She turned back to face him before she spoke again—everyone he worked with was really good about accommodating him in that way. It made it easier for him to hear them and, if he couldn’t make out every word, if he could see faces he could at least glean some cues by facial expressions and lipreading. “I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I probably won’t ever get a real vacation until hell freezes over.” Mandy was in her late twenties, married to a construction worker, with a two-year-old daughter who stayed with her grandma while Mandy and Jerry worked. She was only part-time here, and Elliot knew they struggled for money and lived paycheck to paycheck like he did. “Yeah, well, vacations are for wusses, right?” he said to Mandy with a smile. She laughed. “Yeah. Right. I’m going to remind myself of that the next time I get envious when my friend Trish gets home from her yearly jaunt to Myrtle Beach. ‘You’re just a big ol’ wuss,’ I’m going to say to her. “Real women, and men,” she added with a grin and a nod at him, “work for a living.” “Damn straight.” “And on that note, this working girl is headed home. I’ve gotta get my kiddo, then get some sleep. I’ve got an interview at nine in 20

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the morning at a coffee shop.” “Are you looking for another job?” Elliot would be sorry to see her go if she planned to leave. He counted her as one of his few friends—they’d been working together at Dale’s for over a year. “Yeah, as in another. As in a second one that’s parttime. Jerry got laid off yesterday.” “Oh man, I’m sorry, Mandy.” “Yeah, well, in this economy it’s not really a surprise. So I’m going to see if I can get a few hours a week doing something extra to help pick up the slack until he can get back on with the crew he’s been working with. They said they hoped to hire him back in a couple of months when business picks up again on new home building. He’s already looking for something else as well, so hopefully between the two of us we’ll come up with enough cash to cover all the bills.” “Have you talked to Fran? Maybe she can give you a few more hours here?” “No, I haven’t because if I took a few extra hours it’d be a few hours one of the other waitresses wouldn’t be getting, and I don’t want to do that to anyone. We all need our jobs here and I don’t want to cut into anyone else’s time.” Well, most of us need our jobs here, he thought, but didn’t say it aloud. He’d overheard Al talking to some customers once about his parents’ eight-thousand square foot house in Texas with a swimming pool and tennis courts. Both his parents were lawyers and so was his sister—Al had told him when they’d first met—so it wasn’t like the Baxter family was hurting for money. When he thought about how Al had been raised and compared it to his frugal upbringing with a single mom who’d barely been able to keep food on the table, it rubbed him like sandpaper on a wound. 21

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“Okay,” he said to Mandy, “but if I can help in any way, let me know. I’d even be willing to babysit your munchkin if you get into a real bind.” Not that he knew anything about kids, but for Mandy he’d give it a shot. He still remembered how tough it was for his mom to find childcare for him when she was working two jobs. She crossed over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Elliot. It means a lot to me that you’d even offer. I am not, however, going to put you through the insanity of watching a twoyear-old. Trust me, you do not want to go there,” she said with a grin. “And your schedule’s crazy as it is. I already worry that you barely make time to eat and sleep.” She gently pinched his side. “Look how skinny you are, and I know you’re lucky to get a few hours of rest a night because of your late hours here and having to study. There is one thing you can do for me, though.” “Anything.” “Don’t say anything to Fran, okay? At least not right now. I don’t want her worrying that I can’t pull my weight here if I get a second job.” “I promise. Not a word to her or anyone else.” “Thanks. Although, Al knows, so it’s a not secret from him. I was telling him about it earlier.” “You told Al?” Just the man’s name put him on edge. “Yeah. In fact, he said he’d seen a Help Wanted sign at that quirky little metaphysical store down by the university— Shoemaker’s Magick Shoppe. So if the thing tomorrow morning doesn’t pan out, I might try that. Anyway, it was great of Al to tell me about it.” “Great.” Elliot shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. “That’s…great.” Mandy rested a hand on his arm, which brought his gaze back 22

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up to her. She tilted her head to the side and offer him a sympathetic smile. “You know, Al really is a good guy. If you’d give him and yourself half a chance, you might be surprised.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “He likes you Elliot. A lot. I’ve seen the way he watches you. And I think he’s hurt and confused by your anger toward him. I don’t know what it is that caused the rift between you two when he first started working here, but whatever it was, maybe it’s time to revisit it and sort things out.” Elliot started to argue, but Mandy squeezed his arm. “Shush. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m your friend, that’s all, and I hate to see you so upset when you’re around him. I hate to see either one of you upset. But you don’t owe me any explanations—I love you no matter what. ” She smiled. “And on that note, I’m going home. You working tomorrow?” “No. I’m off. I’ll be here Friday and Saturday nights, though.” “Yeah, me, too. Could you do me one more favor?” “Sure.” “Walk me to my car? Jerry heard that a couple of people got mugged over at O’Malley’s Tavern on 13th Street a few nights ago. That’s not that far from here. Honestly, I’m not too worried about it—it’s like fifteen steps between the back door and my Tbird—but Jerry made me promise to have one of you guys walk me out after work for a while.” “Yeah, I’ll be glad to,” Elliot said as he joined her at the rear door and they went out into the still-warm night. It was a small parking lot, just a few spaces for employees, and Mandy had backed her big old sedan in against the wood fence so it faced the tavern. As she had said, it wasn’t far. “I don’t know, it’s a pretty wide expanse to cross,” she joked. 23

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“Do you think we should risk it?” “If anyone tries to bother you I’ll use my super-duper kung fu skills on them,” Elliot said. “Gleaned from watching mindless hours of badly dubbed kung fu movies on late night cable TV.” He faked a series of karate chops and made a “Hiah-ya!” sound. Then he realized how stupid he’d probably just looked, and felt his face heat up. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That was a total nerd thing to do, wasn’t it?” “Wait until you see me poke the bad guys’ eyes out with my secret stash of toothpicks I carry in my purse, then we’ll talk about who’s a nerd.” She snickered. “We’re terrifying. We’ll definitely send the baddies running.” They both snorted at the vision of the two of them coming across as terrifying in any fashion. Mandy couldn’t be more than an inch over five feet, and maybe weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. She looked about as threatening as a gnat. And Elliot, though he’d finally grown out of the painfully scrawny skin-andbones body he’d been stuck with as a teenager, was hardly superhero material. He was about as average-Joe and unassuming as they came—he was pretty certain he hadn’t been in a gym since junior high, wasn’t even sure he’d ever actually seen six-pack abs outside of pictures on the Internet, and had enough trouble just keeping his own two feet under him most days. But he had played about five thousand hours of Halo on Xbox. And if worse came to worst, he could always dial 9-1-1 with demon-like speed on his cell phone. When they reached her car, Mandy unlocked the old Thunderbird and Elliot held the door for her while she slid into the driver’s seat. “Well, here you are,” he told her. “Fifteen steps safely 24

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covered.” “You’re my hero, Kung-fu Dude,” she said with a smile. She shut the door, rolled down the window, and cranked the car, which gasped a couple of times before it caught. “Oh, meant to tell you inside and forgot. The band and customers are all gone. Al already locked the front door, so everything’s cool in the bar area.” Al again. Elliot sighed at the reminder that he was still going to have to go back inside and face him. “’Kay. Thanks.” “Talk to him,” Mandy encouraged. “Just give yourself five minutes with him without getting annoyed. You might be surprised what you find.” “Yeah. And while you’re at it, why don’t you just tell me to pour itching powder in my sheets,” he said dryly. A sparkle lit in her eyes. “Maybe it’s not itching powder you need to take to your bed, Elliot.” She arched an eyebrow at him, gave him a meaningful grin, and drove off with a wave. Elliot watched her go, his heart racing like a damn thoroughbred in his chest. Had she just really said that? “Shit.”

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CHAPTER 3 When Elliot returned to the kitchen, he found Al standing at the sink washing the remaining glasses from last call. Al looked up, lines creasing his forehead. “Everything okay?” “I was walking Mandy to her car. Her husband said some people got mugged over at O’Malley’s a few days ago and he’d feel better if one of us walked her out when she’s working late. So, if for some reason I’m not here one night when she’s working and you are, would you make sure she gets to her car safely?” “Yeah, of course.” “Thanks.” Elliot swallowed, feeling suddenly awkward having this conversation. It felt so…normal. That is until Al gave him an odd look. Which, of course, pricked at Elliot’s temper. 26

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“What?” Elliot demanded. When Al sighed and said, “Nothin’,” Elliot found himself tangled over how much the man irritated him but also how guilty that sigh made him feel. Al returned his attention to what he’d been doing, his dark blond head bent over the sink, the black fabric of his Dale’s Tavern T-shirt stretched taut over his shoulders and back. He finished the last glass, set it in the drainer, shut off the water, and reached for a towel to dry his hands. “So what was with the weird look?” Elliot asked, trying to keep his voice more modulated. Just give yourself five minutes with him without getting annoyed, Mandy had said. Al turned, slowly, and rested a lean, jean-clad hip against the counter. “It’s just, I think that whole speech about Mandy is the first thing in I don’t even know how long that you’ve said to me that didn’t have an underlying thread of anger.” Elliot swallowed hard, feeling more guilt creep into the pit of his stomach, but at the same time the pent up irritation toward Al flared again. “That’s because it wasn’t about you. It was about her.” “I wasn’t being critical. It was nice. I’ve missed talkin’ to you like that. We used to be able to do that, remember?” A vise tightened in Elliot’s chest. “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Don’t go there. I don’t want to talk about it.” “Why? For God’s sake, why won’t you talk to me?” His soft drawl did funny things to Elliot’s insides. “I said don’t.” He needed to escape, go home, get away from Al. He paced to his locker, opened it, realized he didn’t really have anything in it he needed, then slammed it shut. 27

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He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a touch on his shoulder—Al’s hand, gentle, squeezing. He hadn’t heard Al approach—one of the damn frustrations of being hard of hearing. The heat from Al’s palm spread through his T-shirt with a warm tingle, making him want… God…making him want more. But that was never going to happen. He spun around and shook off Al’s hand, then said it again, “Don’t.” Al’s eyes grew troubled. His tall, lean body, so damned sexy it made Elliot ache with longing, was usually loose and relaxed, but now it was tight with tension, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. He usually managed to stay aggravatingly calm, which annoyed the shit out of Elliot, but right now, it was as if Elliot could see the man’s calm slipping away with every passing second. Yet he still managed to keep some semblance of civility when he spoke. “Look, Elliot, whatever is goin’ on here, we can’t keep doing this. I know you have issues with me, for whatever reason, but we’ve gotta work together. I’m not going anywhere and I don’t think you are either, so like it or not, we’re stuck with each other. It’s not good for the customers to see all the tension between us. Hell it’s not good for the other people we work with or for us. I always feel like I’ve gotta tiptoe around you and, you know what? It sucks and I’m tired of it. So if you’ve got something to say to me, let’s just frickin’ get it out in the open once and for all.” His hackles rising, Elliot muttered, “I don’t have anything to say to you.” “God damn it!” Al dragged a shaking hand through his hair. Two patches of red moved up his cheeks and, as he spoke, his voice rose. “Yes you fucking do. You clearly have things to say to me and I’m sick and tired of this shut-out routine you do. Just say 28

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it!” At long last, Al’s usually even temper frayed, and it caused a jolt of something completely unexplainable to shoot through Elliot. It was like a sizzling electric wire downed in a storm had come to life in his body, and it sent bolts of heat and anger and desire all rolled into one through Elliot. It made him see red and hurt like hell, but also suddenly feel more alive than he had in a very long time. “I’m not getting into this with you,” he growled. “God, why do you always have to be such a stubborn ass? You’re so furious at me all the time that it’s eatin’ away at you, and if you’d just open up, even if you still hated me afterward, you might feel better!” “I don’t need you to be my fucking therapist,” Elliot snapped. “Don’t you? I don’t know. I’m beginning to wonder. You hold so much shit inside that it’s tearing you apart. Even I can see it and I was a poly-sci major and know nothing about psych.” Moisture stung behind Elliot’s eyes, but he refused to let the man get to him. He allowed his anger to flare even hotter to cover it. “Just back off, Al! You have no right.” “Yeah, I think I do have a right. When we had that class together I thought we were friends. But then, so fast it made my head spin, you pushed me away and shut me out and even now, a year later, you still can’t even look at me without getting pissed off. So I think, at the very least, I deserve to know what the hell’s going on.” His eyes glittering with anger, he held his arms wide. “Now’s your chance to unload. I’m right here in front of you. Do your worst. Say all the shitty-ass things you’ve ever wanted to say to me and get ’em off your chest.” “Leave. Me. Alone.” Elliot tired to push past him, but Al was 29

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taller and stronger, and he didn’t budge when Elliot shoved him. Instead, he grasped Elliot’s forearms firmly, but oddly gentle at the same time, and forced him to stop and look at him. Which Elliot did, and was furious when he felt the hot burn of tears in his eyes again. “Just tell me,” Al said, gaze churning with emotion. “Just tell me what the problem is, Elliot. I can’t fix it unless I know the problem.” His suddenly gentle tone, to match his gentle hold on Elliot’s arms, was too much. Elliot didn’t want him to be gentle. He didn’t want Al to be nice right now. He wanted to stay furious at the man, have Al yell at him so he could yell back. “You want to know what the problem is?” he choked out. “It’s you. It’s you, damn it. Everything about you!” He jerked out of Al’s hold, turned away from him, and rested his forehead against the cold metal of his locker. His breath came out in ragged gusts. God, he didn’t want to do this. Except a part of him still buzzed with anger, and eventually that won out. He spun back around, his heart pounding. “Tell me,” Al insisted. “You know what…fine! Where do you want me to start? How ’bout right here, this job. You working at Dale’s Tavern.” “What about it?” “You’re hogging a full-time position here just so you can cruise women. You don’t need this job, you’re just playing at it. You’re a fucking rich boy who’s no doubt had everything handed to you all your life. Some of us haven’t been so lucky. Some of us actually have to work hard for everything, scrimping and saving and barely making ends meet. People are getting laid off right and left in this 30

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town, but do you give a shit? No. Somebody else out there who’s really struggling to survive is going hungry because you’ve got a job they need, and all you care about is being able to say to women, ‘Look at me, I’m so hot ’cause I’m a bartender.’” During his speech Al’s face had grown pale. “Elliot, that’s not—” “No, you don’t get to interrupt. You wanted me to tell you what the problem is and that’s what I’m doing.” Al swallowed hard, then nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly. “What else?” “The women.” Elliot almost choked on the word. “They’re around you all the time, everywhere, hanging on you, flirting with you, and you’re always flirting back, and kissing them, like that gal tonight who was saying all that shit. She threw herself at you and you were just oh-so-willing to go for the ride in spite of the fact she was being a total bitch. ‘Just want you to remember how good kissing a girl is so you don’t get a bad reputation from hanging out with the wrong people,’” he said, mimicking her voice. “Wrong people meaning me.” “Ell—” “No, damn it! You wanted this.” Al winced and nodded again. “You know what the worst part is?” Elliot drew in a ragged breath, suddenly tired. “I don’t think you care about the girls. I think it’s all just smoke and mirrors. I’ve seen how you look at your roommates when they stop by here sometimes. You watch them with this look on your face—how they talk, how they touch, how they’re totally into each other—and you want what they have. You want it so bad it’s killing you, but you’re too fucking scared to do anything about it. You accuse me of holding stuff in and letting 31

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it eat away at me? Well, guess what? You’re as guilty as I am. I think you hide behind all the women so everyone will think you’re hot and studly and macho, while secretly, when you’re all alone, you’re dreaming of dick as much as any gay man. The problem is, when you play games like that, people get hurt, Al. When you use people…” His voice caught as a hot lump filled his throat. “When you use people, someone’s always gonna get hurt.” Out of steam, his chest aching and his throat raw, Elliot rubbed a hand over his face and his still burning eyes. “You know what I hate most of all?” His voice cracked with emotion he couldn’t hold back. “I hate this. I hate confrontation. I hate these words coming out of my mouth. I hate the ball of hot tar in the pit of my stomach. And I hate the way you’re looking at me right now.” Looking at him with those shocked, troubled amber eyes that tore at Elliot’s heart. He wanted to go home, curl into a ball, and shut out the world—solitude had always been his escape, his comfort. Except Al had ruined that for him, too, because right now, even more than being alone, some stupid perverse part of him wanted Al to open his arms, pull him against him, and make everything okay. How could he want so badly the one person who had the power to tie him up in knots? “I’m sorry,” Al whispered. He reached for Elliot and smoothed his palm along Elliot’s cheek. Elliot wanted to pull away and wanted to lean into him all at the same time. Where Al touched, he tingled. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” “Yes it does.” Al’s hand dropped back to his side. Elliot instantly missed the heat, and then was mad at himself for missing it. It seemed that’s the way it always was with 32

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Al…he’d offer something, Elliot would cling to it wanting more, and then he’d take it away. Pretty much a metaphor for their relationship. “When we had class together…” Al’s voice was quiet, raspy, as if he had a similar lump in his throat to the one in Elliot’s. He swallowed hard. “Did I hurt you somehow?” “What do you think?” “I don’t know, Elliot. I want to understand. Please.” Elliot huffed out a tired breath. “You led me on.” Al’s eyes widened and he looked truly shaken by Elliot’s comment. “How?” “For Christ’s sake! You let me believe…” His voice caught, again and he took a deep breath. “You talked to me every day, sat with me in class, and then you asked me if I wanted to get coffee with you. That day was so… It was… It was a good day.” “It was. For me, too. That’s why I don’t understand why you shut me out after that.” “I thought…” He ran his hands through his hair. “God, I don’t want to do this.” “Please. You thought what?” “I thought you liked me, damn it. Liked me for me. My hearing aids and the stupid quirks and embarrassments that come with being hard of hearing that make so many people uncomfortable being around me didn’t even seem to faze you. You looked at me, talked to me, like you really saw me, like you really liked me.” “I did. I do.” “Yeah, so much so that at the end of that really good day, when you’d made me…” He stopped himself before he said something he’d regret. When you made me fall for you, damn it. “When we were leaving the coffee house, a girl came up to you, threw her 33

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arms around you, kissed you, and you introduced her. ‘This is Cindy. My girlfriend.’” Al’s face went pale. “Oh God. You… You thought when I asked if you wanted to go for coffee… You thought it was a date.” “Shouldn’t it have been? Isn’t that what most sane people would think? You picked me up the first day of class, Al. You came on to me. You charmed me with that damned smile of yours, looked at me in a way that no straight man would have, led me to think you really cared and that maybe, just maybe, there might be something more there, something worth exploring. And then you asked me to go for coffee. That’s what people do on dates, dumbass. They go out for coffee. “But then…” He swallowed. “But then your girlfriend of the hour showed up, and it was pretty damn clear I was never going to be anything more to you than just a closeted side interest. And you know what?” Elliot’s eyes burned. “I may be a nerd and a freak, but I deserve better than being some guy’s toy that gets taken out when the guy needs a little gay man fix only to be shoved back into hiding the rest of the time while he frolics in the land of two X chromosomes.” *

*

*

Al stared at Elliot, his stomach tied in a knot that kept getting tighter and tighter with every revelation Elliot made. And the worst part was, even though he’d never done it intentionally, hadn’t even realized he was doing it, he was afraid there might be some truth in Elliot’s assessment of what had happened between them in class the year before. Back then, Al had thought he was just trying to be Elliot’s friend, that there was 34

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nothing more to it than that. But when was the last time he’d worked so hard at being another guy’s “friend?” When had he ever felt so excited to go to class just to see and talk to and spend time with one of his guy “friends?” And when had he ever enjoyed a day with one of his guy “friends” so much that he hadn’t wanted it to end? “Elliot, I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I was dumb, okay? I thought we were just friends. I truly did. I had no ulterior motives. Lookin’ back on it now, you’re probably right, there probably was more to it for me on a level I wasn’t even aware of at the time. But I promise you, I never set out to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you, I swear.” Elliot shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Al knew it did. It mattered to Elliot a lot, otherwise he wouldn’t have spent the past year so hurt he’d put up extra thick walls to keep Al out. “I’m sorry,” Al said again. “From the bottom of my heart.” “It’s done, over with. And you know what? We’re done here, too.” He pushed past Al again, and this time Al let him go. Or tried to, but couldn’t let him get far. There was still too much unsaid. He turned and reached for Elliot’s hand. “Don’t go.” But then he realized Elliot’s back was to him and he probably hadn’t heard, so he scrambled around him, stopping him with gentle hands on his upper arms. The position left them face to face and standing so close he could feel the heat emanating from Elliot’s body. “Don’t go. Please.” “God, just stop!” Elliot groaned. “I don’t want to do this anymore. You wanted me to tell you the truth and I did, but there’s nothing else to say, Al.” “There’s everything else to say. I listened to you. Now will you 35

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listen to me, and let me explain?” “It won’t matter. Nothing’s changed between us. You’re still a rich, sexy, entitled playboy who’s hiding in the closet and I’m still a poor, hard of hearing, openly gay geek who’s not willing to be anybody’s hidden secret. The two of us, we’re not mixable. And it’s too late to be friends. Nothing’s changed.” “You’re wrong,” Al said quietly. “You’re wrong, Elliot. Everything’s changed.” “Like what?” “Like this…” He cupped the man’s cheeks between his hands. Elliot’s eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise as Al drew him close. And then Al lowered his mouth over his and kissed him. Elliot stiffened, and for a moment, Al thought he’d pull away. But then his hands slid haltingly up to Al’s chest, and a second after that, with a soft, strangled moan of surrender, his arms curved around Al’s neck and he gave himself over to the embrace. Al had never imagined his capitulation, not like this, so willing and charged with emotion. He’d pretty much expected Elliot to tear away from him and storm out the door, and the fact he hadn’t was a gift. Elliot’s body was warm against his, filled with tension but no longer the angry kind. He moved closer and closer still to Al, then as their thighs touched, and finally their groins, he whimpered against Al’s mouth. A jolt of shock hit Al as he discovered Elliot was hard, as hard as he was. As Elliot rubbed against him, making soft moaning noises, Al wanted to touch him more intimately, wanted to slide his hand, now on the small of Elliot’s back, lower so he could cup his ass. Wanted to yank open their jeans and feel skin against skin, cock 36

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against cock. Wanted to sink to his knees and swallow Elliot’s dick in his mouth and make him cry out with pleasure. But he held back, letting Elliot take the lead. He didn’t want to push too fast, too hard. He was still reeling that the man desired him at all. All this time he’d thought Elliot hated him, yet beneath his anger, it seemed he’d had feelings for Al from the beginning. The fact he’d inadvertently hurt Elliot before, though, was front and center in Al’s mind, so there was no way he was going to overstep here. As much as he wanted Elliot, and God he wanted him so much he could shout, he wouldn’t push for more. He was just unbelievably grateful for this—just being close to him, kissing him. To have the man he’d not been able to stop thinking about for so long actually in his arms. They kissed for what felt like forever, tongues tangling in a sensuous dance of thrust and parry, give and take, their groins matching the rhythm. It was slow and sweet, but oh-so hot, and it just kept on and on like neither of them could get enough. It was as if they’d been waiting so damned long to finally do this that they couldn’t stop, couldn’t even come up for air, and instead breathed together to make it last. Eventually, though, they broke apart and it was Elliot who brought it about, though it was obvious he did it with regret. He pulled away from Al’s mouth with a soft moan, but didn’t pull out of his arms. “This can’t work, Al,” he said, his voice soft and hoarse. “I can’t…I won’t be your for now guy while you philander with women.” The words hit Al directly in the heart. “There are no women, Elliot. There haven’t been in months.” Now Elliot did pull out of Al’s arms, and Al ached with regret and missed his closeness already 37

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“Yeah, right, what about the one tonight who certainly seemed to have you in a pretty good lip-lock.” “I didn’t want that,” Al said. “She forced that kiss and it took me by surprise.” “You were just about to reach for her and pull her close from what I saw.” “No, I was about to push her away. I told you, I didn’t want that kiss and I was angry that she thought she could manipulate me. She only did it and said those things because she was mad at me.” “Yeah, right.” “Earlier, when she came up and interrupted us when you and I were talkin’, which I was already ticked at her about, she started makin’ some derogatory comments about you. She said I should go dance with her and make you watch the bar since you were just some deaf guy who didn’t have anything better to do. It made me so damn furious I told her off. That’s why she followed me to the end of the bar. That’s why she said the shit she did about you and me. That’s why she kissed me and made the snarky comments. She was in a snit at me for tellin’ her off earlier, for, as she put it, ‘playin’ your knight in shining armor.’” “I don’t need you to defend me,” Elliot rasped, but his expression wasn’t one of anger…more like a mix of surprise and something else Al couldn’t read. “I know you don’t need me to, but that’s not gonna stop me from doing it if some small-minded jerk treats you badly.” That seemed to take Elliot aback. He looked at Al, his lips parted and rosy and still wet from the kissing. Al started to reach for him, to touch his cheek, make contact, but Elliot took another step back. 38

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“What about the girl you were dating when you started working here?” Elliot said. “That wasn’t forced.” Al sighed and let his hand drop to his side. “Giselle. No, that wasn’t forced. I really liked her…but not like you think,” he added quickly when he saw Elliot’s face tighten. “She’s a friend only now, and she was the last. There’s been no one since her.” “You expect me to believe that?” “I do. Because she’s the one who finally helped me realize how unhappy I was tryin’ to be something I wasn’t. You said nothing had changed, but a lot has changed since we took that class together, Elliot. I haven’t been with anyone since Giselle.” “So you admit you’re gay?” “Yes,” he said quietly. “But you’re not out. Do your roommates even know?” Ugh. The guy was holding back no punches. Yet as uncomfortable as it was, Al was glad. Maybe they both needed to do this. “I haven’t told Jeremy and Ben yet. I don’t know why. I should have. I guess I’m just…” He drew in a shaky breath. “Scared?” “Yeah,” Al whispered. “Not for the reason you might think, though. If things were different I’d be out already. Probably would have been a long time ago. But my life, my family situation…it’s complicated. There’s a lot going on that I haven’t really told anybody about. I will tell you, though. If you want to hear it.” He watched Elliot, hoping the man wasn’t going to say he didn’t care or it didn’t matter. Because it did matter to Al. He knew that if he was ever going to have a shot with Elliot he had to come completely clean. There could be no secrets between them. It was the only way Elliot would ever trust him. Elliot didn’t say anything. He just looked at Al, as if trying to 39

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decide something. “Look,” Al said, “let’s get out of here. Let’s lock this place up and go somewhere where we can really talk. Please.” He wrapped his fingers around Elliot’s, and was relieved when Elliot didn’t pull away. “Give me a chance to finish explainin’. Give me a chance to prove to you that you can trust me. Come home with me. Ben and Jeremy are gone this week, visiting Ben’s family, so it’ll be quiet.” Elliot swallowed hard, looking uncertain, and Al suddenly worried that he maybe thought going home alone with Al was moving too fast. “Or how about someplace public that’s open all night,” he said, backpedaling, trying to think of something that would make Elliot more comfortable. “There’s a pancake house on Route 5.” No answer. “They have good waffles,” Al coaxed. A sigh shook Elliot’s shoulders. “Let’s just go to my place,” he finally said, his voice soft. “I don’t live too far from here.” Whoa. Al hadn’t been expecting that at all. Elliot wanted him to come to his place? “Are you sure?” “I wouldn’t have said it if wasn’t sure,” he snapped, but his voice sounded far less cranky than it usually did when he spoke to Al. “I’ll get the money out of the register and put it in the safe and then we can go.” “I already did, as soon as we closed.” “Fine, then I’ll go shut off the lights and meet you out back in a minute.” As Elliot crossed the kitchen and pushed through the swinging door out to the bar area, a sudden cloud of worry settled over Al. It was time to admit the truth and lay all his secrets on the table. He just hoped with all his heart that the truth really would set 40

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him free and not end up costing him everything.

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CHAPTER 4 When Elliot went out the back door of the tavern and locked it behind him, he saw Al standing, hands in his pockets, next to his open-topped Jeep CJ7. Equal parts fear and anticipation coiled in Elliot’s stomach. Not fear as in he was afraid of Al, but rather fear of letting himself trust and fall for the guy all over again only to get hurt, all over again. Was he really doing this? Taking Al home with him? To talk. Just to talk, he promised himself. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to just talk. In fact, he was pretty damn certain he didn’t. Their kiss inside…Jesus. Elliot hadn’t been with that many men, but one thing was certain, he’d never been kissed like that before. Had never felt his toes curling, his dick humming, and his chest banging like a bass drum 42

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from just a kiss. There’d been nothing fake or hesitant on Al’s part either—he’d been as turned on as Elliot was, yet also gentle and…it sounded silly, but kind of gallant. It reminded Elliot of the Al he’d met in class months ago, and why he’d fallen for him in the first place. There’d been no doubt in that kiss that Al wanted Elliot, but he hadn’t pushed for anything more than what Elliot was willing to give. Which, Elliot decided, was good. Because if Al had ratcheted things up a notch, he probably would have gone along. It had taken every ounce of his self-control just to end the kiss, so he couldn’t even imagine that he would have been able to back away from something more intimate. And sex would just make things messy, messier, between them when they were still walking on tentative ground as it was. No, it was best to stick to talking tonight. Because in spite of the fact Al said he could explain everything, and swore that he wasn’t seeing women anymore, Elliot knew that emotionally he couldn’t go through another round of thinking he had Al, only to wake up one morning and find Al had moved on to someone better looking or sexier or more in his league. Or that he’d gone back to hiding his true orientation and was dating and sleeping with women again. Or, worse yet, that he’d never really cared as much Elliot had to start with. The last caused a sharp pain inside him. His ten-year-old Camry sat two spaces away from Al’s Jeep and he started toward it. But a sudden rattling somewhere at the edge of the parking lot, as if someone had tripped over something metal, put him on instant alert and caused an icy shiver to course up his spine. The mugging at O’Malley’s landed front and center in his mind. Shit. 43

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Sometimes background noises were hard for him to decipher, though, especially out in the open like this. And with his hearing worse in one ear than the other, it also made it tough for him to figure out which directions sounds came from. So he turned to Al, who stood several feet away from him, for confirmation. “Did you hear that?” Al’s shoulders were tense. “Yeah.” Elliot’s gaze followed Al’s to the dark shadows at the corner of the lot where the bar’s Dumpster sat up against the fence, surrounded by a stand of heavily leafed-out elm trees. Al leaned into his Jeep, pulled something out from under the seat, and started moving in the direction of the Dumpster. That only sent a new jolt of fear through Elliot. “Don’t go over there!” he whispered. “Are you crazy?” Al turned to him and placed a finger over his lips, cautioning Elliot to be quiet. Pulse racing, Elliot didn’t know if he should follow the crazyass Texan to back him up in case there was someone over there, or stay here so that if something happened he’d have a chance to call for help. He opted for the latter because, honestly, he didn’t know what use he’d be in an actual fight if there was one, his joking with Mandy about knowing kung-fu aside. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out his smartphone, flicked the screen to life, and kept his finger poised over the keypad to dial 9-1-1 if necessary, all while keeping his gaze steadily on Al. He could see now what Al held—it looked like a wooden baseball bat, except shorter and more club-like. He carries that in his car? Does he go around expecting trouble? Al had reached the Dumpster now. Cautiously, he edged 44

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around it, holding his bat/club in two hands, like he was getting ready to swing at a fastball. Elliot held his breath, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. When Al was in a position to see behind the Dumpster, he looked over at Elliot and shook his head, indicating there was nothing there. Then he moved toward the trees. A few seconds later he lowered the bat/club and walked back to Elliot. “Nothing?” Elliot asked when he approached. “I didn’t see anything.” He put the bat/club back under the driver’s seat in his Jeep. “It might have just been an animal—a cat or a raccoon looking for food around the Dumpster.” Elliot’s heart continued to thump loudly, but he sighed in relief. “All I could think about was the mugging Jerry told Mandy about.” “Yeah, me, too. You okay?” Elliot nodded, suddenly feeling awkward again and not knowing why. “If you still want to come over, you can follow me,” he said. “My place is on Ivy, a couple of blocks off Whitaker.” He started to turn away, to go to his car, but Al reached for him and gently tugged him against him. He held him for a second as if he were giving Elliot a chance to pull away. When he didn’t, Al angled his head and his mouth captured Elliot’s. The moment he did, all the self-control Elliot had promised himself earlier that he would have, came crumbling down in one spectacular crash. Without hesitation, he found himself opening to Al, found his fingers curling into the man’s short, blond, barely tamed curls, found himself sighing as Al’s tongue sought his. So much for only talking tonight. But it was useless to fight it. The contact with Al just felt too damn good. The man was an amazing kisser, and the heat of his tall, lean body, pulsing with life and need and something more 45

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tender, was a balm to Elliot’s lonely, ravaged soul. He knew he should still be mad at Al. Should step away and keep things between them platonic and make Al earn back his trust. But, God…he wanted this. Wanted the man like he’d never wanted anyone. It had been a year and a half in the making, and the past six months had been hell, seeing him four or five days a week but always keeping his distance for his own sanity. He’d been so furious at Al he could barely look at him for so long, but underneath it all he’d never stopped having feelings for him. Did he dare hope Al really had feelings for him as well? This time when the kiss ended, Al continued to hold him, and Elliot let him, savoring the closeness. Eventually, still holding Elliot in his arms, Al leaned back and rubbed his thumb over Elliot’s lower lip. “Do you know why I was finally able to admit the truth about myself and break up with Giselle back in January?” Elliot didn’t want to talk anymore about Giselle, or women, or anything else that reminded him of the past. But he shook his head because he knew Al expected an answer. “Because after I started working at Dale’s and discovered you were here, too, all I could think of, all I could see…was you. In spite of the fact that you kept me at a distance and acted like you couldn’t stand me, every time I looked at you, Elliot, my heart melted. It still does. Every day.” The lump returned to Elliot’s throat, hot and tight. “You’re all I’ve been able to think about for months. When you’ve seen me watchin’ Jeremy and Ben and longin’ for what they have, the person I’ve been imagining that life with is you. I know I have to earn back your trust and I don’t expect you to easily forgive me for being so stupid for so long or for hurting you, but I hope maybe you’ll be able to find a way to give me a chance. 46

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Because you…” He brushed gentle fingers through Elliot’s hair. “You’re worth fightin’ for. And I just needed you to know that.” Oh God. Nothing, nothing had prepared Elliot to hear this—the sincere, softly drawled words that said so much. And nothing had prepared him for the tidal wave of emotion that surged up inside him either. He pulled Al into a kiss, letting the intensity of all the feelings he’d been keeping bottled up inside him for so long pour out. He was still afraid, but hearing Al’s admission healed something inside him, some part of him that had felt horribly broken since that crappy afternoon when he’d discovered he couldn’t have what he wanted. Because now, maybe, if he let himself hope, he could have it after all. And he knew he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try. “Whoa,” Al said softly, breathlessly, when they finally parted. His eyes glistened with surprise in the light of the nearby street lamp. “What was that for?” “Take me home, Al.” He reached between them and palmed Al’s groin through his jeans, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Right now.” Al sucked in a breath. His gaze grew steamy, so much so that Elliot’s knees got all shaky at the sight. “Are you sure?” Elliot squeezed his erection again. “Are you going to make me ask twice?” At that a sexy smile curved Al’s lips. “I didn’t think you were askin’ the first time. Pretty much sounded like a demand to me.” “Wise-ass.” A smile teased at Elliot’s lips and then broke free—and it felt amazingly good. “You’re driving. I’m riding with you. I’ll get my car tomorrow.” “I’d be a fool to turn that down.” 47

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“Yeah, you would.” Al planted another kiss on him, sexy, seductive, then gave him another grin. “Get in.” They made the few-block drive to Elliot’s in less than five minutes, and with his pulse racing in anticipation, Elliot led Al up the three flights of stairs in the old brick building and unlocked the door of his studio apartment. “It’s small, there’s not much to it,” he said apologetically when they entered. But at least it was clean, mostly, and Elliot had just changed the sheets on the bed a couple of days ago. The moment the door was shut, Al turned and pressed him up against it. “Not really lookin’ at the apartment right now, Elliot.” He didn’t kiss Elliot, simply studied him, as if he were trying to memorize his features. If Elliot hadn’t been so damned turned on it would have made him self-conscious. “Thank you.” Elliot’s brows drew together. “For what?” “For letting me in.” Elliot knew he wasn’t just talking about the apartment. “You know how to talk real pretty, cowboy.” “Everything I said was the truth.” “Then show me,” Elliot said softly. This kiss, when it came, was different still from the others they’d shared. This one was slower, more sensual, more thorough. As their mouths moved against each other, Al’s warm, callused hands slid beneath Elliot’s T-shirt and caressed his abdomen. At the first touch of skin, Elliot shivered and Al deepened the kiss. His hands curled into the hem of Elliot’s shirt and slowly, slowly pulled it up, exposing Elliot’s abs, his chest, and then Al was drawing it over his head and it was gone. 48

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Elliot sucked in a breath when Al’s mouth moved away from his and sought his neck instead. Licking, kissing, nuzzling, he made his way upward. When he got to Elliot’s ear, he kissed it and teased his tongue over the lobe, making Elliot shiver. No one had ever paid his ears any attention during sex and the arousal factor was a tingling surprise. Al leaned back enough to make eye contact. “Is that all right?” Elliot nodded. “Your ears are so fucking sexy I can’t resist them. But if I do anything that’s uncomfortable, let me know, okay?” He said it so earnestly, emotion tightened Elliot’s chest. He nodded again. With a smile, Al pressed a kiss to his lips, before he returned to his nuzzling. The few other men he’d been with had never bothered to ask Elliot about his hearing aids. Most, in fact, had avoided the subject like the plague, choosing to pretend they weren’t there, choosing to pretend his ears weren’t even there. If they didn’t have to look at them, then maybe the aids wouldn’t exist and they wouldn’t have to be reminded that Elliot was different. It might not have been so bad if he wore the kind that fit completely into his ear canal and were almost invisible, but those didn’t work well for him, so his fit behind his ears. And while they were smaller than the clunky ones he’d had as a kid, they were still noticeable. But Al…Al didn’t pretend they weren’t there. He accepted them as part of Elliot, and had actually been concerned about Elliot’s comfort, had actually said his ears were sexy. Sexy! He’s a good guy, he heard Mandy’s voice saying. You might be surprised. Al’s hands roamed Elliot’s chest, fingertips teasing through the 49

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triangle of dark hair over his breastbone, then following his treasure trail down to where it disappeared into his jeans. As he caressed his way back up again, he tweaked Elliot’s nipples, drawing soft gasps from him, which Al swallowed when he caught Elliot’s mouth again in another breath-stealing kiss. Needing to give as much as he was getting, Elliot worked Al’s black T-shirt, identical to the one he’d had on, up and over his head. Al’s chest, unlike Elliot’s, was smooth, with firm pecs, and sexy bronze areolae and nipples Elliot couldn’t resist. He leaned down to catch one between his teeth. When he bit lightly, Al hissed and his hands curled into Elliot’s hair. As Elliot continued to worry the nip between his teeth, then soothed it with swipes of his tongue, Al began to tremble. His hands tightened in Elliot’s hair, soft huffs of breath escaped him, and his eyes closed. “Good?” Elliot asked, looking up at him with a smile. “God, Elliot!” he gasped. Elliot chuckled. Okay, he’d take that as a good. Throwing himself even more fully into the task because the reward—the way Al responded to it—was too fucking sexy to resist, he offered Al double the attention. He used his mouth on one nip and his fingers on the other at the same time, twisting and pinching, biting, sucking, switching sides and doing it all over again, until both buds were both swollen and warm and had turned a delicious-looking red color. Damn, that was hot, Elliot thought, admiring his work. So hot it made his balls ache. He unbuttoned and eased the zipper of Al’s jeans down over his erection, then pushed his boxers down as well, letting his velvet-skinned cock spring free. Al’s eyes fluttered open, watching him, and when Elliot wrapped his hand around the base of the 50

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long, thick stalk and gave a squeeze, a throaty, unhinged groan slid from Al’s mouth. “Oh my God!” Elliot renewed his efforts on Al’s nipples as he stroked. “Oh shit…” Al moaned, thrusting his shaft into Elliot’s palm as Elliot jacked him. His dick was hot and firm in Elliot’s hand, and each time he bit one of Al’s nipples, he felt a corresponding pulse in it. He let his hand slip lower and sought out the man’s testicles, easing them free of his jeans as well, rolling them in his palm, gently squeezing. That produced more groaning and humping. But suddenly Al was pulling away. “Stop!” he gasped. Elliot did, instantly. Looking up, he asked, “Too much?” Al’s breaths came fast and hard. “Your mouth and hands are too fucking good. I was about a split second from losin’ it.” He lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “And that’s a bad thing?” “It is when I’m not even close to being done with you tonight.” His voice was husky with promise. “I’ve been wanting this with you too long to shoot off like a teenager. I plan to take my time and make sure you’re right there with me when we both lose it.” He ducked his head and pressed a kiss against Elliot’s neck. Then another, this one with suction, right at the sensitive spot beneath Elliot’s ear. “Oh!” Elliot whimpered and pressed his groin against Al’s in response. That, apparently, only encouraged Al to continue wreaking a special kind of spine-tingling, ball-aching havoc at his neck. Elliot wondered if he’d have marks when Al was done, and realized he didn’t care if he did—he’d wear them with pride. Al’s hands suddenly moved to Elliot’s ass and then he was 51

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lifting him. “Hold on,” he murmured. Elliot wrapped his legs around Al’s waist and his arms around his neck. A few strides later, Al was holding him with one arm and pulling down the covers on the bed with his free hand. He laid Elliot on the mattress and, with Elliot’s legs still wrapped around his waist, rocked into him and kissed him, deeply. Moonlight shone through the blinds on the lone window in the apartment, lighting the room and capturing Al in silver, luminescent rays. When he leaned up on his arms and looked down at Elliot, he was limned in silver. They kissed some more, slowly, intimately, as their hips continued to rock together. “Do you know how long I’ve been dreamin’ about this?” Al said, his voice a whisper of sound, but still clear enough for Elliot to hear. “You are so fucking beautiful, Elliot.” Elliot’s heart skipped a beat. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. And the thing was, Al really meant it. He could see the sincerity in Al’s eyes, on his face, hear it in the gentleness of his voice. Elliot couldn’t respond. His heart was too full. Which seemed to be happening to him a lot tonight. With gentle urgency, Al stripped him of the rest of his clothes, tugging off his trainers, pulling down his jeans and briefs, until finally, Elliot lay fully exposed in the moonlight. Self-conscious, he watched as Al paused and drew in another slow breath, studying him. Elliot knew he didn’t have a bad body, it was just thin and…unremarkable, he guessed would be the word he’d use. But the way Al was looking at him stole his breath. “So damn sexy,” Al murmured, his hands stroking slowly up Elliot’s calves and thighs and hips, his thumbs brushing through 52

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Elliot’s pubes and just missing his dick, which lay hard and leaking against his lower belly. Elliot’s belly fluttered when he backtracked and came this close again, missing his member by what felt like millimeters this time. And then Al was pulling him toward the edge of the bed and spreading his legs. He sank to his knees on the floor between them. When Al’s hands and hot, wet mouth took possession of him, Elliot cried out. Al’s tongue swirled over and around and under the crown of Elliot’s cock, dipping into the slit one second, tracing around the ridge and against the sensitive skin of his frenulum the next. Then he moved lower, along the length of his shaft, down, under, over his balls, up again, laving every inch of skin, leaving Elliot wet and throbbing and more turned on than ever. Al’s hands seemed to be wherever his mouth wasn’t, and by the time he took Elliot fully in his mouth and sucked him deep, and his fingers curled around Elliot’s balls, rolling and squeezing, Elliot was almost at the edge of his endurance. He writhed on the bed, his legs trembling hard, his hands clutching and releasing Al’s shoulders, and soft, sobbing pleas and moaned whimpers pouring from his mouth. Al brought him to the edge once, twice, and then again a third time, but didn’t let him go over. “Fuck, Al, please,” he cried. “Please…please…please…” Al pushed his legs up and back, propping his feet on the bed, and suddenly a wet finger teased over his tight ring. Elliot’s hips shot up and he moaned. One of Al’s hand squeezed his thigh, getting his attention. “Is this okay?” His finger brushed over Elliot’s hole again. “Yes,” Elliot gasped, pressing his ass down, seeking the contact. 53

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“Now would be the time to tell me, Elliot, if you’re a top, a bottom, or you’d rather not go there at all tonight.” No one had ever asked him about his preference before. The damn man was making it pretty impossible to ever be mad at him again. “Both. Either. And God, yes. Please, let’s go there. I want to go there. Desperately. Urgently.” Al’s soft, sexy laugh was almost his undoing. His hand had continued to stroke Elliot’s dick even after his mouth had gone, keeping him steadily aroused. And just looking at him now, his eyes twinkling, his lips curved in a come-hither smile, all Elliot craved was to be a part of him. To crawl inside Al’s body, and stay there, forever. “Desperately and urgently,” Al repeated. “Then we’d better do something about that forthwith. I have a condom, but do you have any lube?” Elliot groaned, because getting it meant one of them had to get up. “Bathroom, top shelf of the medicine cabinet.” “All right. Here”—he grabbed Elliot’s hand and brought it down to his dick, forcing Elliot to curl his fingers around his own erection—“hold this and keep it warm, but don’t come!” Elliot glared at him, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. “Sadist.” That earned him another grin and, as Al rose, a kiss. “You’ll thank me later.” “In your dreams,” Elliot called, watching his retreating back. The bathroom light flickered on and Elliot heard clanking and clunking noises, then the light went out and Al was back. As Elliot watched, breathless, Al finally shed the rest of his clothes. He pulled off his cowboy boots, then shimmied his jeans down over his lean hips and thighs. When they were gone, he rose, and Elliot 54

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got the full view for the first time. And oh my fucking God. Al Baxter with his clothes on was a sexy, sexy man. But standing in the moonlight, bare-assed, his lengthy dick erect and bobbing between his thighs… Fuck. Just…fuck. He must have made some sound in appreciation because Al’s gaze settled on him, hot and needy. “I want you,” Elliot whispered, holding out his free hand as his other continued to stroke his dick in slow, steady pulls. “Now.” Al grinned. “I know the feeling. Scootch up on the bed.” Elliot did, and watched as Al tore open a condom wrapper and rolled the rubber down over his impressive dick. Elliot’s ass clenched, knowing soon that fucking, beautiful masterpiece would be in him. Al climbed onto the bed, settling between his spread legs. Elliot let go of his cock, grasped his thighs, and pulled them back and up against his chest. “Holy mother,” Al rasped. “Do you have any idea how hot you are like this, all spread open, tremblin’ and waitin’ for me?” Elliot had no idea how to respond to that with words. So instead, he popped open the tube of lubrication Al had laid on the bed next to them, poured a generous amount onto his belly, tossed the tube aside, and swirled his fingers through the gel. While Al watched, Elliot reached down between his legs, behind his balls, and slid two slicked fingers into himself. Al’s eyes went dark with desire and Elliot thought he heard a softly spoken, “Sweet fuck,” come out of his mouth. Secretly smiling to have captured Al’s rapt attention, he dipped his fingers again, then went back to his ass, this time smearing the lube over his balls and along his crease before he probed at his 55

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hole. The look on Al’s face kept him at it for far longer than necessary, but each time he pushed his fingers back into himself, Al would let out a moan and a tremor would rock through him. Finally, Al grabbed Elliot’s hand. “Stop. Dear God, I don’t think I can take anymore of watchin’ you do that or I’m gonna be history before I ever get inside you.” He brought Elliot’s slick hand to his sheathed cock and, without being told, Elliot knew what he wanted. He slathered Al’s shaft with as much diligence as he’d used on his ass, and Al had to intervene again. “Fuck, you’re killing me.” “You’ll thank me later,” Elliot teased. That earned him another smile. “Smart-ass.” As they looked at each other, they both suddenly grew serious. “Need you,” Elliot said. “Need you, too.” Al moved closer, the heat of his body sending currents of heady desire through Elliot. When the tip of Al’s dick probed at Elliot’s asshole, Elliot caught his breath, eager for the invasion. One push and the flared head speared Elliot open and entered him. It burned in spite of all the lube, but God it was good. Then, with one more firm push, Al was filling him all the way to the root. They both dragged in air, their bodies locked and thrumming together. Elliot could feel the throb of Al’s dick deep inside him, and he left out a whimper because it felt so good. Al kissed him, a slow, lingering kiss. “You doin’ okay?” One of his hands rubbed a soothing motion on Elliot’s hip. “Yeah. Please, Al,” he whispered. Al didn’t have to ask what he meant. He eased out part way, as 56

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slowly as he had pushed in, letting Elliot feel every thick inch of him. Then, just when Elliot was about to cry out from the loss, Al thrust again, burying himself in Elliot’s body, balls to ass. They both moaned and shuddered, clinging together. Al did it again, torturously slowly out, with a forceful plunge back in, except this time sinking deeper, deeper until Elliot felt like he was going to burst. Al’s cock was longer and thicker than any he’d ever taken and it made his ass ache in that incredible, deep down way that made him burn for more. He’d feel this tomorrow for sure—but every twinge and thrum would remind him how it had happened, how Al had plumbed him to the depths of his soul, and Elliot would welcome it. Al eased out…and sank in again. Then again. Over and over. Elliot clung to him, one hand wrapped around his own dick once again, and his other arm around Al’s neck. And they kissed. Jesus, did they kiss. Every time Elliot thought kissing Al couldn’t get any better, he’d find himself quivering at new heights of pleasure as Al’s mouth claimed his. They surged together in the moonlight, the sounds of their skin slapping together, of their moans and urgent sighs curling around them. Al shifted angles, pushing Elliot’s legs back farther, and reentering him, this time thrusting in only shallowly, followed by a deep stroke. Shallow…deep…shallow…deep… Elliot floated on the new sensations the change created. The long-held-back flame at his core began to burn fiercely, spreading from the base of his spine to his balls. Al’s motions grew faster, harder, and Elliot knew he was feeling it, too. “God, Elliot. I’m not gonna last much longer. This is 57

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so…fucking…good.” It was. It truly was. Christmas good. Best day of his life good. I don’t ever want this to end good. “Oh-God-I-think-I’m-coming!” good. He didn’t realize until Al’s hand slid between them, covering Elliot’s wrapped around his cock, that he’d said the last out loud. The added pressure of Al’s hand, pulling quick hard strokes, was all it took to put Elliot over the edge. “Al…oh God…oh God!” With a hoarse shout and Al’s name on his lips, he exploded, hot seed spurting from his dick, dripping over his and Al’s hand, spraying their bellies and chests. The scent of it filled Elliot’s senses, along with the tang of his and Al’s sweat, and the faintest hint of Al’s soapy-clean scent, still clinging to his skin from a shower earlier in the day. The best aphrodisiac ever. Once he was spent, Al released his cock, and anchored his hands on either side of Elliot’s head. He drove into him with ever increasing intensity, spearing hard and fast, each time seeming to go a little bit deeper…and just a little…deeper…still. Elliot gasped with every thrust, experiencing each one to his core as it rocked through him, flaying his muscles, pounding his senses. He felt like he was well and truly being fucked into the bed, and it was a dizzying, mind-blowing experience. Al’s head dropped to Elliot’s neck, his eyes closed, his breathing hot and raspy against Elliot’s skin. Elliot ran his hands up and down Al’s back, urging him on. “Come, Al,” he demanded in Al’s ear. “Come now.” That seemed to be all it took. With a ragged cry, Al came apart in his arms. 58

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CHAPTER 5 They showered and Al didn’t know how the hell they managed it after the mind-blowing sex they’d just had, but after thirty minutes of standing under the spray of warm water, languidly kissing and soaping each other and kissing some more, they were both so damned turned on they’d gotten each other off again. Elliot had dropped to his knees and sucked Al, his mouth a fucking paen to the gods of passion, and then, just before Al shot, he’d pulled off and used his hand to make Al come, milking every drop from him and capturing it on his outstretched tongue, his mouth open, his eyes glued to Al’s. It had been the single most sexy thing Al had ever seen in his life, so sexy he’d come and come until his dick ached. And then it had been his turn. He’d bent Elliot forward, with 60

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his hands resting on the wall in front of him, leaving his pale, delectable ass jutting out and spread for his pleasure. Al had eaten him out from behind while he masturbated him, and if he thought his orgasm had been spectacular, it had been nothing to hearing Elliot’s unrestrained cries of ecstasy, or seeing his trembling body thrusting back against Al’s mouth as he cried, “More, Al, more!” and pumped out copious loads of cum. Cum Al hadn’t wanted to go to waste, so he’d turned Elliot again, and licked up every drop. By the time they’d soaped and rinsed again and staggered back to bed, they were both limp with exhaustion. They fallen into the sheets without bothering to cover up, wrapping around each other instead and letting their body heat keep them warm. It was almost four in the morning and Al was dead tired, but still too wired to sleep. Elliot lay curled against his side, his head on Al’s shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist. He knew Elliot wasn’t asleep either as he stroked Elliot’s hair with one hand, and his back with the other. It was a comfortable silence, and it felt so good to be lying here like this. It was hard to imagine that just twelve hours ago he’d been getting ready to go to work and had been experiencing his usual churning stomach over being able to see Elliot at the bar, but knowing Elliot wasn’t going to be happy to see him. How, exactly, they’d gotten from there to here was kind of a blur—a messy, painful blur, at least part of the time—but Al didn’t care. He’d gladly take the difficult parts all over again if it put them right back here like this. The man who meant everything to him was lying next to him and except for the first few weeks they’d known each other, it was the first time they’d been at peace. This, he knew, was exactly right and he’d go through hell to keep 61

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it. Finally, finally he felt like the pieces of his life were starting to fit together in a way that made sense. For years everything had felt…off. Not bad, certainly not unlivable, and there were parts that had been very good. But he’d always felt out of sync and not totally comfortable in his own skin. Like a great looking pair of boots that you wore because they were stylish and everyone raved over them and told ya how great they looked on you, but in reality, they always pinched your toes and rubbed blisters on your heels because they just weren’t the right fit. He didn’t want to go back to that ever again. Which made him think of home, and his parents, and the email he’d gotten earlier in the night. He wanted to cry out in frustration when a dull, churning anxiety began in his stomach. Damn it, he didn’t want to think about this right now. He wanted to stay in this warm, hazy, isolated cocoon with Elliot where they didn’t have to worry about anything on the outside messing things up between them. As if he’d been reading his mind, or maybe Al’s body, which, he realized, had gone tense, Elliot rose up to an elbow. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Al tried to school his voice to sound convincing. Then he let out a shuddering breath and knew he couldn’t lie to Elliot. “No,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I was just thinking about home. Do you ever wish sometimes that you didn’t have to go back, didn’t have to deal with your family?” “I can’t go back,” Elliot said softly. “I only ever had a mom— my dad took off when I was a baby—and my mom died when I was seventeen. I’ve been on my own ever since.” 62

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“Ah Jesus, I’m sorry, Elliot. I seem to have a scary way of puttin’ my foot in my mouth, don’t I?” Elliot shrugged, but he didn’t look angry. Just sad and kind of distant for a moment. “You didn’t know. And it happened a while ago.” “Do you miss her?” “Sometimes. Other times, it’s weird because I can go weeks without thinking about her, but then, when I do, I feel guilty because it’s been so long. She was always working, usually had two jobs just to keep us fed, and after I got sick and lost my hearing when I was twelve, I was an even bigger financial burden to her because of my medical issues, therapy, hearing aids. So she wasn’t really around much. Don’t get me wrong, I know she loved me and she worked so hard because she loved me and wanted to take care of me. I appreciate all her sacrifices more than I ever told her. It’s just that…” He shrugged. “I wish I could have seen her more. Spent more time with her. It felt like I was kinda on my own most of my life. So when she died, I was sad and I do miss her, but it wasn’t like this big hole in my life because she wasn’t there much. Does that sound awful to say?” Elliot’s gaze turned to him, troubled. “No, it doesn’t. I don’t think there’s a good or a bad in how people choose to handle what life throws them. I mean, we’re all different, we all have our own baggage and issues, and who’s to say what’s right or wrong? Your mom did what she had to, to take care of you, even though that meant sacrificin’ time with you. It doesn’t mean she didn’t love you, it just means she had to make choices and she probably wished it could be otherwise, but she did what she felt was best. I think we all have to find our own ways of coping, and deal with stuff as best we can.” 63

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“Speaking from experience?” Al took a hard swallow. “Don’t we all? But, yeah, I guess.” “You said earlier your family situation is complicated. Is that the reason you never came out?” “Yeah. It’s… Damn it!” He closed his eyes and dragged a hand through his still-damp hair, grimacing. But then he opened them again to look at Elliot, letting the other man’s presence fill him and take away the sting of his parents’ recent doings. “Sorry. The whole thing’s just a big ol’ knife in my back right now. Things have been pretty rough at home for a while.” Elliot sat up next to him, his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them. “So tell me. Weren’t you the one who said to me earlier that if I talked about what was eating at me I’d feel better? Well, guess what?” “So you’re going to be my therapist now?” “If that’s what it takes.” “Pretty generous of you considerin’ how much I hurt you because of my damn issues.” A faint smile curved Elliot’s lips. “Let’s just say, maybe I think you’re worth fighting for.” His heart squeezing at having Elliot gift his own words back to him, Al curved a hand around the back of Elliot’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Then he rested their foreheads together. “I just hope you still feel that way after you hear the story. You got mad at me about the women already. I don’t even know what you’re going to say about this.” “That bad?” “Some people think so.” But then he realized Elliot’s comment hadn’t been said in disgust or worry. And there was actually a glint of a smile in his eyes. So maybe there was hope, which made him 64

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feel a little better. Elliot sat back up again and returned to his position of arms around his legs. “Quit stewing over it and just get it out.” His throat dry, Al swallowed again. “Okay.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “You were right earlier, I have spent most of my life dating women, being with them, as a way to hide.” “I think we’ve already established that fact.” “Yeah, but you don’t know why. See, my mother isn’t just an attorney, she’s a politician. A conservative politician. So I grew up in a house with certain conservative expectations. With my mom always in the spotlight, there was no room for error. My entire junior high and high school life she was the mayor of our town. Everyone knew her, knew me, and if I had stepped one foot out of line my parents would have known about it probably before I even finished doing whatever it was. Jeez-o-Pete, if I’d even hinted that when I would lock myself in my room on the weekends and watch marathons of action movies it wasn’t because I got off on the whole kick-ass-blow-shit-up stuff, but because I was masturbating to the images of shirtless, sweaty men, I would have had my ass kicked from here to kingdom come. “I knew from probably the time I was fifteen or sixteen that the sight of the male body did things to me that a girl’s didn’t. But I was scared to death my parents or someone else would find out. I was generally a good kid, got decent grades, played sports, said yes ma’am and no sir and changed my shorts every day like a good boy. I never really got in trouble. So the idea of the kind of hell that would rain down on me if anyone found out my little secret was fucking terrifying to sixteen-year-old me. I knew enough to keep my mouth shut. I found out that if I smiled a lot and flirted, girls flocked to me. I didn’t even have to really date them as long 65

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as I paid attention to them. They just kept coming back for more, and it was a great cover because if I always had girls around, then no one would ever suspect the truth, especially not my parents. “I figured I’d just count the days until I went to college and then I could finally have some freedom. That’s why I chose to go to school here in Colorado—to get away. And believe me, that was a big frickin’ deal at home because my entire family, including my grandparents, had either gone to school at Baylor or the University of Texas, so I had to fight to get here. But in the end, my parents caved.” “But you didn’t get the freedom you wanted?” “Oh, I did. At first. Lots of it. Instead of doing anything so dull as trying to meet gay guys here on campus, I was gung ho to dive right into the gay nightlife. So the first thing I did was go to a couple of gay clubs in Denver. I was only eighteen, and had to get a fake ID to get in, but I paid some guy on campus to make me one. Probably the first two months I was here I went to Denver every weekend. I thought I was hot shit, defying my parents and getting away with anything I wanted. Then one night at one of the clubs there was this guy who came around, an older dude, passing out business cards that said if you called the number you could make a thousand bucks for just a couple hours of work.” Elliot groaned. “And you called?” “I told you, I was on a rebellious streak and eatin’ up every second of my new life. The thought of a thousand dollars for a couple of hours of work sounded pretty damn fine to me because I didn’t have a campus job at that point and had a limited monthly allowance from my parents. So, yeah, I called. The guy told me to show up at such and such place at nine A.M. the following Saturday. I did, along with three other guys. The older guy 66

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explained that he was a video producer and asked if would we be willing to be filmed having sex. I didn’t even think twice—it sounded too great to believe to me because I’d only just started havin’ sex with guys recently, and I was eighteen years old and always horny, so I figured have sex and get paid for it? Heck yeah.” He heard Elliot sigh and it made him pause to study his face, looking for signs he was scaring him away—God, he hoped not, wasn’t sure he could bear if it he did, but he also knew he had to tell Elliot the truth no matter what because he was done lying and hiding. Elliot, however, didn’t look angry or disgusted. Al couldn’t tell what the odd expression was on his face. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’ right now.” “Finish the story.” The non-answer wasn’t reassuring. Al’s stomach did a sickening sort of somersault, but he continued. “Even though I was above the age of consent in Colorado, and in Texas for that matter, the old dude insisted he only used guys over twenty-one. So when I filled out the forms, I used the name and birth date that was on my fake ID. He was paying us cash under the table, there’d be no paper trail with the IRS or anything, so I figured who was going to know?” Again he paused and tried to read Elliot, but couldn’t. “How many videos did you make?” Elliot asked “Two.” His eyes widened. “You went back a second time?” “Yeah,” Al said sheepishly. “What kind of…stuff…did you do?” Ugh! This was so not what Al wanted to be doing—telling the 67

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guy he was totally in love with about his sexual escapades in gay porn videos. But he’d promised full disclosure, damn it. Curse his vow of honesty. “The usual…stuff. Vanilla kind of…stuff. Nothing kinky.” “Protection?” “Always. I wasn’t that dumb.” “So what happened?” Al pushed to a sitting position and scooted so his back was against the bed’s headboard. “About a week after the second video was done, the old guy called me—I’d had to give a phone number and I’d given him my cell, which was probably dumb, but it was better than giving him a dorm number I figured. He said one of his ‘regulars’ had seen me on campus and told him I’d given him a fake name, was only a freshman, and no way was I twenty-one. He chewed me out bigtime for lying to him. Said he could have me arrested for falsifying documents that defrauded him out of potential sales as well as the money he paid me. He said I could go to jail for up to ten years because of it. “My parents were both attorneys and I’d grown up with a foot in the field of law, so I knew he was telling the truth.” His chest heaved with a deep, dry, painful breath. “I was scared shitless, Elliot. I was terrified of going to jail, of the scandal I knew it would cause for my mom and her career, of my parents finding out that not only did I like guys but that I’d been doing gay porn. Jesus.” His voice shook as he remembered that horrible time. Elliot reached for Al’s hand and wound his fingers through Al’s, offering support, and for some reason the simple gesture caused hot tears to form in Al’s eyes. He sniffed and wiped them away, but new ones formed. 68

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“I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t go to class. I walked around like a zombie, waitin’ for the cops to come any second, or the phone to ring and have it be my parents. The old guy told me he’d get in touch with me in two days after he’d spoken to his attorneys, and those were the longest two days of my life.” He swiped at his eyes again. “When he called, he offered me a deal. He said that if I paid him back the two grand he’d given me, along with an extra ten grand in damages, he’d settle with me and not call the police. “Twelve thousand dollars! Fucking hell! I’m no attorney but that sounds like extortion to me!” Elliot said. “I know, and I knew he was taking advantage of me, but all I could think of was that I had an out. I told him I’d do it. “I’d already spent a chunk of the money he’d given me ’cause like I said, I was young and stupid and it had felt like ‘free’ money to burn in my pocket. I’d bought a wide-screen HD TV for my dorm room and some other shit. Everything I could I returned and got my money back, but I was still short about five hundred dollars of having the original two thousand, and no clue where I was going to come up with the other ten. I had a few hundred dollars in my checking account, so I cashed all that in, I pawned my stereo system and my great grandfather’s watch my parents had given me when I graduated from high school. And then, I didn’t have any choice…I sold my car. I had this sweet 1969 Mustang Mach 1 that I’d worked and saved for two summers to buy when I was in high school. I loved that car. But I didn’t have any choice.” “What did you parents say about your car?” “I lied and told them some guy had offered me a great deal on it, so I’d sold it to him. I walked or took the bus or hitched rides with my friends for almost a year before I could afford to buy the 69

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CJ I drive now. But at least I was able to take the video guy the full twelve thousand and pay him off. I made him sign a paper saying he could never come back to me and make any further demands for money or anything else. In return, he agreed to destroy all the videos with me in them. So, after several weeks of nightmare I was, technically, off the hook and free. But…” “But you were still scared something might come back to haunt you.” Al nodded. “It was probably a year before I could actually wake up in the mornings without having a knot of anxiety in my stomach. It got easier over time, but I never could quite put the fear to bed. “Meanwhile, the same week I paid off my debt, my mom called and said she was going to run for the Texas House of Representatives. It was a big deal, certainly a step up from being mayor, and she reminded me again, as she always had before each election when she was mayor, that anything her family did reflected on her and her career. I was already sick with guilt and fear, and that just hammered it in harder. So I…” “You went back into hiding.” There was no judgment in Elliot’s voice, and only sympathy in his eyes. “Yeah. I didn’t know what else to do, Elliot. I was a mess. So I went back to living my good boy, keep-your-nose-clean life, covering my ass, surrounding myself with women. Sometimes I’d take home the ones I actually liked and sleep with them, just to keep anyone from being suspicious. Each time I’d tell myself I could get used to it and I could be okay with it if I found the right woman. “That’s what I told myself all the way up to Giselle. I really thought she might be the ‘right’ one. Not that hetero sex was 70

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suddenly fabulous because of her, but she was such a great, genuine person, and I thought, ‘If I can have that, someone I really like, who’s smart and kind and who I have fun with, it would be enough.’ I knew it wouldn’t be fair to her, but I had gotten myself into such a deep rut, I didn’t know how to get out. And that’s where you came in.” He squeezed Elliot’s hand and almost smiled when he saw a faint pink flush creep up Elliot’s cheeks. “I started working at Dale’s and realized that, for the first time, I’d actually met a man I wanted, desperately wanted. Giselle is a smart gal, and she picked up on that and helped me see the light.” “How did you…” Elliot’s brows drew together. “How did you get through sex with them? I mean, was it hard? Or… I don’t know, I’ve never been with a woman, so I have no frame of reference here. Do you think maybe you’re bi and that’s why you could do it?” Al thought about the women he’d slept with and how he’d felt. “I don’t think I’m bi because, really, it’s only ever been about the guys for me. I mean, I can’t think of a single time where I ever fantasized about a woman, and I think that’s pretty telling. And as far as having sex with women…” Here they went again, with Elliot, always curious and needing details—maybe it was the scientist in him—wanting him to talk openly to him about having sex with someone else. Argh! “It wasn’t like it was awful or a turn-off. I guess I’d say from my perspective it was…dispassionate. I knew what to do and went through the right motions, but I didn’t get any real thrill from it. At first, when I was younger, I could get it up and do what needed to be done, but the last couple of years, I pretty much could only get aroused with a women if, before and during, I imagined I was with 71

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a guy. I also only ever slept with the handful I genuinely liked, so we were always able to talk and have a connection besides just the physical, which helped. “And before you hear it from them, I need you to know the truth about something else. Ben and Jeremy think I have a thing about videotaping all my sexual encounters with women—it’s like a standing joke at our house. It started because I brought home this one girl once who had a kinky streak and she wanted me to film us together. Needless to say, that was never gonna happen given my history…no way was I going to have anything else come back to haunt me. So instead, I convinced her to put on a show and I’d film her alone. She loved every second of it and when it was done, I gave her the only copy of the tape ’cause I didn’t want her to ever worry I was going to exploit her. I told Ben and Jeremy about her because she was such a hoot and had loved it so much. So, somehow, they leapt to the conclusion that I filmed everything. I let them believe it because, I guess, it was another shield to put up between myself and the truth. Smoke and mirrors, like you said.” He hated that Elliot had been so right about him. “Like you said, I guess we all get good at doing whatever we have to to cope with our baggage.” “Doesn’t mean we have to be proud of all our decisions, though.” Al slumped down in the bed. “There are so many things I wish I could take back.” “Yeah. But do-overs are for wusses. Fucking up…it sucks and it hurts sometimes, but I guess that’s the only way we can really figure out the tough shit.” Their eyes met, and something passed between them, an understanding, or maybe just a mutual agreement that they’d both done things they regretted—separately and to each other—but 72

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from here on out they had to put the old, painful crap behind them and move forward. “Earlier tonight, at the bar, you said you were reading an email from your parents,” Elliot said. “It upset you.” “Oh God, you have no idea.” Al sighed and dropped his head into his hands. Then he remembered Elliot would have trouble hearing and understanding him if he didn’t look at him. With difficulty he lifted his head and met Elliot’s concerned gaze. “Tell me,” Elliot urged. “I went home for Thanksgiving break this past fall to find that Mom’s staff had been contacted by a man who said he had a damaging video of me in a compromising position.” “Oh shit,” Elliot breathed. “That fucker. He didn’t destroy them all.” “No. And the really messy part is that my mom has decided to upgrade again…she’s running for U.S. Senate. So you can imagine about how well that went over.” “Oh shit,” Elliot said again. His eyes had gone wide. “It was him, wasn’t it? The old guy and not someone else who’d bought the video? “It was him.” “He found out she was running for Senate and wanted to use it against her. Did he ask for money?” “Yeah, but even if he knew my mom was an attorney before he contacted her, I’m sure he had no idea what he was gettin’ himself into with her. She can be pretty formidable, and so can my dad. They nipped his extortion in the bud and got the video, which they destroyed. And they’ve been on crazy-ass damage control ever since, makin’ sure the whole thing’s covered up, there are no more copies anywhere, and the media never find out about it. Needless 73

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to say when I got home for the holiday, things were…unpleasant. Not exactly the way any parents want to find out their son likes men, by having to see him in a gay porn video.” “Fuck, they watched it?” “Said they did. Said they needed to know what they were dealing with.” Al let his head drop back against the headboard and closed his eyes. “We had a huge argument. They said some pretty hard stuff, stuff that I took to heart because I’m not as young or stupid as I used to be and I hate intolerance of any kind.” “What did they do? What did you do?” “They wanted me to swear that I would never be with a man again, or talk about being with a man, or in any way be around men who are with men because it would look bad for my mom’s career since much of her campaign is based on a conservative, family values agenda. And they told me I certainly would never, ever speak to a soul about the porn video. They gave me an ultimatum—said if I didn’t meet their terms in full, then they’d see that I lost my full-ride to UT School of Law and they’d cut me off without a penny. They thought hangin’ those things over my head was such a powerful persuasion that I’d never dare to disagree.” “You have a scholarship to UT?” “Yeah. But my parents are both alumni with powerful connections all over the place, so all they’d have to do is say something to the right people and they could make sure I lost it.” “But aren’t you staying here for law school in the fall?” “Yeah, because I refused their ultimatum and walked.” “You walked away from a full-ride?” Elliot’s voice rang with shock. “What are we talking about here…like forty-grand a year?” “I won’t be manipulated anymore, not even by my parents, Elliot. And I’m sure as hell not gonna take money that’s got all 74

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kinds of strings attached to it. Strings that go directly against everything I believe in. I’ve already spent too much of my life hiding who I am because of my family and my mom’s career. Having the porn video finally come to light was, in some ways, one of the best things that’s ever happened. Because it forced me to take a stand.” “What are you going to do for mon—” His face suddenly registered understanding. “Oh. Your job at Dale’s.” Al nodded. “Contrary to what you might think, I do need that job,” he said softly. “It’s my only source of income, and has been for the past six months. It’s the only money I have to pay my share of rent, buy food, books, gas, and anything else I need.” “How are you going to pay for school, Al?” “The same way you’re gettin’ through grad school. Lots and lots of financial aid. I’ll probably be paying off student loans until I’m old and gray and hobblin’ around with a cane. And I may not be able to go full-time every semester.” He shrugged. “But I’ll figure it out and get it done. At least I’ll know when I’m finished that I paid for it myself and didn’t have to compromise myself or my beliefs to do it.” “So the email tonight that upset you…are your parents giving you a hard time still?” “Oh yeah. They still think I’m going to come running home at the last minute because I can’t handle it—basically they think I’m bluffing. And they’re still trying to tell me how I’d better live my life according to their dictates. The email was from my dad, with the formal announcement of my mom’s campaign. In the press release, she actually had her staff say I’d be going to UT in the fall—” Elliot’s eyebrows shot up. 75

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“Yeah, denial, I know,” Al said. “And my dad told me they expected me to be there for my mom’s campaign kick-off fundraiser in mid-July and I’d better bring a girl as a date, a girl from a good family.” The words felt like ash on Al’s tongue. “Now they’re not just trying to force me into a straight mold, but I’d better be straight with an appropriately qualified woman.” “What are you going do?” Elliot said quietly. “They’re not going to back off, are they?” “No, probably not. I love my mom, and I don’t want to see her lose her campaign because of me. I don’t want that hangin’ over my head because I would never live it down. But I can’t stand at her side and put my entire life on hold any longer for her political aspirations. Especially now, when I have more reason than ever to stay here and live my life my way.” He lifted Elliot’s hand and pressed a kiss against his palm. Elliot smiled, faintly, but he seemed distracted. Troubled. “Hey, what is it?” “It’s…nothing.” “Okay, now I know it’s somethin’.” “I just… I’m wondering how, if your mother wins her campaign and ends up in the Senate for the next however long, she thinks she’s going to be able to hide the fact she has a gay son if you’re living openly.” “I don’t know. I’m not sure I care at this point.” “She’s going to be surrounded by people who want nothing more than to tarnish her reputation, and they’re going to pick apart everything she says and does. And if she denies you’re gay…there are some who will be hell-bent to prove otherwise. For you, that could make living any kind of normal life…difficult.” Al stared at him, letting his words sink in. He hadn’t looked at 76

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it from that perspective, and he couldn’t find fault with Elliot’s logic. He swallowed hard. Elliot was right, no matter how much Al wanted to live a normal life, out in the open, without the bullshit of politics, as long as his mother was in political office—especially given her leanings—he would always be a target. And anyone he was in a relationship with, would get caught in the crossfire. With the first light of dawn creeping through the window in the apartment, he and Elliot slid under the covers to finally catch some sleep. But unlike earlier, the silence between them now lay heavy. And as he and Elliot spooned together, he could almost feel a new, troubling wedge driving between them.

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CHAPTER 6 Al awoke at Elliot’s apartment late in the morning, rolled over, stretched, and opened his eyes…only to find himself alone. It took only a second to look around the small studio and into the bathroom and realize Elliot was nowhere to be found. Al tried hard not to feel like he’d been blown off, but he still wondered where Elliot was and why he’d gone. When he untangled himself from the sheets and got up, he explored Elliot’s small space, since he hadn’t seen much of anything except the bed and bathroom the night before. He touched a stack of math and physics books here, a shelf of video games there. He spied a neat pile of mail on the kitchen table, a few dishes in the drainer on the counter but nothing in the sink, and a folded pile of laundry on the floor next to a wooden chest of 78

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drawers like maybe the chest just wasn’t quite big enough to hold everything. He saw two tall bookcases of fully alphabetized DVDs, most of which were sci-fi, fantasy, and action-adventure, as were the paperback novels stacked along the wall (also alphabetized). A small desk set against one wall with a printer on it and an empty space where Al suspected a laptop usually sat. Elliot probably had the computer with him wherever he’d gone. The beige couch was older but in good shape, and it looked comfortable with a couple of throw pillows on it. He could imagine Elliot spent much of his time in the small apartment right there on that couch. Especially since he spotted another stack of sciencerelated textbooks and notebooks stacked next to it and on the coffee table, and saw that it had been placed in front of a small HDTV. The Xbox had Halo 2 loaded on it, with the case for Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic sitting next to it as if it had been recently played. All in all, the apartment told a lot about the man who lived in it, and even though Elliot wasn’t here, being around his things made Al feel closer to him. And then he found the note on the kitchen counter, written in Elliot’s neat, compact writing: Al, Sorry I had to bail, but I have classes starting at 11. I’ll be at school most of the day and evening. I know you’re working tonight, and I’m off, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night. E Al tried to read some emotion into it, or some hint Elliot still wanted to see him, or…something, but couldn’t. However, he also 79

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couldn’t clearly read a blow-off or a Dear John in it either. It was exactly what it was…a straightforward, factual note. Maybe that was just Elliot, that impersonal tone. But it bothered Al, because the guy he’d made love with last night…not impersonal at all. The man he’d gone to sleep with, however…that had been different. And confusing. Al couldn’t stop thinking that the business of his mom’s campaign and the possible fallout on Al’s life, no matter how hard he tried to stay away from it, had upset Elliot last night. Maybe it wasn’t a massive rift yet, more like a subtle tremor. But with their relationship as lovers still new and fragile, even subtle could cause a world of problems. Twice before he dressed and left the apartment, Al took his iPhone out with the intention of texting Elliot, even if it was just something simple like, Hope you’re having a good day. Something, anything to be in contact with him, and hope Elliot would respond so he might find a little reassurance things were okay between them. But he knew Elliot was in class and he didn’t want to disturb him, if he even had his phone on. Plus, he was still afraid of pushing too fast. Last night had been so damned unexpected and incredible, but he’d unintentionally screwed up with Elliot before and didn’t want to make that same mistake again. Just as he had last night, he decided it was probably best to let Elliot take the lead. And that meant respecting his space if that’s what he needed. Still…the note bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Maybe last night hadn’t meant everything to Elliot that it had meant to Al. 80

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When he left Elliot’s, locking the door behind him and trekking down the stairs to the ground level, he suddenly remembered that Elliot had ridden with him last night and left his car at Dale’s. He must have walked over there this morning to get it on his way to school. Once in his Jeep, Al stopped to get some coffee, then headed home. When he unlocked the door of the house and opened it, the empty silence there hit him almost as hard as it had at Elliot’s. He was alone here, too. He threw his keys on the kitchen table, grabbed a bagel out of the bag on the counter, then moved to the living room and sank onto the couch. He didn’t have to be at work until four-thirty, and it was just a little after noon right now. So what the hell was he going to do with himself this afternoon, aside from a shower? Damn it, he missed Jeremy and Ben. Not only their easy-going banter and camaraderie, but also being able to just shoot the bull, talk about what they’d done all day, and even just hang out and watch movies or play video games. They’d lived here together for two years now. When he’d asked them back in December if he could stay after he graduated because he’d decided to go to law school here rather than in Texas, he hadn’t told them why. He’d still been fuming and hurt by his parents dictates and, normally, the first people he would have gone to for feedback, advice, or just someone to listen would have been his housemates. But they’d been going through a tough time themselves, with Jeremy dealing with his own coming out, admitting their feelings for each other, and then major family issues with Jeremy’s alcoholic father. The last thing Al had wanted was to burden them 81

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any further. Besides, he kept hoping at that point that maybe, if he went back to Texas for a couple of days over Christmas, his parents would have magically come to their senses and everything would work out. But they hadn’t and it hadn’t, and instead Al had returned to Colorado, gotten a full-time job, and found himself either at school or at work most of the time. Ben and Jeremy had their own school and work schedules, and there just hadn’t been a time to have a long sit-down. Or so Al had told himself all through February, and March, and April, and May. And now it was June and he felt guilty as hell that he hadn’t confided in his best friends when they were the first people he should have told. The two people in his life probably the most qualified to be his support network and he’d kept them in the dark. Why? Why hadn’t he told them? Now, he’d never wished more that he had. He promised himself that as soon as they were back from their trip, he’d tell them everything. They’d been gone a week already and he didn’t expect them home for another several days. Ben’s family, which was huge, with eight kids, several spouses and partners, and a passel of nieces and nephews, were spread all over the world, and every couple of years they made a point to get together somewhere so that as many of them as possible could see each other. This year they’d congregated on one of the barriers islands off the coast of Georgia. A grandmother or great aunt or someone owned a couple of houses there on the beach. Al envied them, thinking it would be nice to get away for a while. But he didn’t see that anytime in his near future. Even though he wasn’t taking any classes this summer, working fulltime at Dale’s kept him busy. And once school started in the fall, 82

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he honestly wasn’t sure yet how he was going to find time to juggle it all. He truly was in the same position as Elliot. He couldn’t afford to cut down on his work hours or else he couldn’t pay his bills. But he was also going to attempt a full-time load in law school the fall semester. He figured he had to try it, and if it was just too much, then he’d drop a class or two and he wasn’t going to beat himself up over it. This was the life he’d chosen, and damn it all, he was going to stay the course. *

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By the time he got to work, after spending a thrill-inducing afternoon doing laundry, cleaning the bathroom, changing the sheets on his bed in anticipation of having Elliot in the bed sometime in the near future, he hoped, and going for a run just to blow off some excess steam, Al was missing Elliot so badly he’d been almost tempted to call in sick and go try to find him. Almost. He didn’t, of course, because a) he needed the money, and b) he wasn’t the type to shirk his responsibilities, including work, unless he had a damn good legitimate reason, like being forreal sick. The bar didn’t feel right without Elliot’s presence, which of course was kind of silly since it was hardly the first time Al had worked a shift without Elliot. Still, the other night bartender, Lauren, was a sweet gal, and Al got along with her fine, but she wasn’t the man he was in love with. So no matter what, she was doomed to be a poor substitute. He’d stopped himself a half-dozen times today from texting Elliot, every time reminding himself again to not push. Besides, it 83

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wasn’t like Elliot didn’t have his number—everyone who worked at Dale’s had everyone else’s numbers in case of emergencies. If he wanted to get in touch with Al, he could. And he hadn’t. “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Al mumbled. “You’ll see him tomorrow night. Whatever happened to being patient?” *

*

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After a long afternoon and night of classes, Elliot dragged himself out to his car and made his way home. By the time he parked, climbed the stairs, and got into his apartment it was almost midnight. He was tired from not having had much sleep last night, and had struggled to keep his eyes open in his advanced optics class and the following seminar he’d had to attend, and by the time he got to the lab, had depended on a serious infusion of caffeine to get any work done. Not that it had helped because he’d gotten no data on his project, and had zero to show for the six hours he’d spent there. He should have called it a night sooner and come home, but he kept thinking if he ran his experiment just one more time, and then just one more, he might get something. He blew out a huff of air in disgust. Right now he was running on caffeine and fumes. He couldn’t even recall if he’d remembered to eat or not. In response, like it had been listening in to his thoughts, his stomach rumbled. So after he’d dumped off his messenger bag filled with books and his computer on the floor next to the couch, he went straight to the kitchen, trying to think what he had in the cabinets or fridge that he could fix. But he stopped short at the entrance to the kitchen when he saw 84

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the paper he’d left for Al on the counter, except it had now been turned over and a new note was on it. He wanted to not feel the way his heart flip-flopped, or notice the way his feet suddenly began moving of their own accord toward it. But he did feel it, and did notice, and then he was there and reading it: Elliot, By the time you’re home and reading this I hope you’ve had a great day. Miss you. Counting the hours until Friday night. Al Elliot sucked in a deep breath and released it, trying not to smile, but unable to stop it. His fingers brushed over the note and Al’s bold, swirling script that totally fit his bold, charming personality. Miss you. Counting the hours… Al’s words caused a growing warm spot in his center that was already spreading out to the rest of him. That was how you wrote a proper note to your lover, not like the one he’d left Al this morning. He was a little embarrassed his note to Al had been so basic, but he’d struggled over what to say in it. When he was writing it, he’d still been unsettled by their talk last night and worried about the things Al had told him concerning his family and their fractured and fractious relationship. Plus, he’d had a scary pang of oh-my-God-did-we-really-just-sleep-together? this morning as he’d stood in the shower, which had left him offcenter and uncertain about the status of their relationship, or even if they had one, or if they even should have one. 85

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Add to that the fact he’d never had a reason to write a note to a man he’d slept with because he could count on one hand, okay, one finger, how many men had stuck around until morning, and that one finger was Al. He’d never had a lover like Al, and when it came to things like this, he felt awkward and unsure. But Al’s words in his note had worked with the same charm his smile did, or his twinkling eyes, or his soft Texas drawl. Al’s a good guy. Elliot couldn’t deny it any longer. Yeah, he was. He wondered how Al’s day had been, and realized, as he looked around his apartment, that he missed him, too. His bed had been neatly made, and that made Elliot smile. How many guys would have done that? Elliot liked to keep things tidy and organized—it made him feel like he had control over his immediate life because there were so many parts he had none. And he felt a particularly warm twinge of pleasure that Al had taken the time to do something so seemingly unimportant as make the bed and help keep Elliot’s tiny little sliver of the universe safe and orderly. He suddenly realized Al wasn’t the only one counting the hours. Elliot opened the cabinet, spied a bag of tortilla chips front and center, and pulled them out. He was too tired to cook something or even nuke a TV dinner, so the chips would tide him over until morning. He debated between a Coke and a Coors Light in the fridge door and decided after the long day, more caffeine might keep him awake whereas the alcohol might help lull him to sleep. He returned to the couch, munching the chips and drinking beer, wondering if he should boot up his laptop, sync his phone to upload the class lecture he’d recorded today, and send it to the gal 86

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he paid to type up the notes for him. Sometimes, in a small classroom, depending on the teacher, he did okay with hearing a lecture and writing notes himself. But classes in the big lecture halls were almost impossible for him, with the echoing noises and big acoustics. For those, he just set his phone to record, then emailed the file to the typist, and usually in less than twenty-four hours she emailed him the typed notes back so he could read everything. It maybe wasn’t the most elegant system, but it worked. Once he was on the couch, though, he turned out the lamp on the side table, darkening the room, and sprawled out, comfortable and relaxed. He decided the notes could wait until tomorrow. Instead, he turned on the TV and channel surfed. Elliot was just starting to doze off during an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise on SyFy with the closed captioning scrolling across the screen when he felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his cargo shorts. What the hell? It had to be close to one in the morning. Who’d be trying to reach him now? He pulled out his phone, and when he saw the text, his heart began to pound. It was from Al. Are you still awake? Elliot typed back, Yeah. You still at work? Just finishing up. Without letting himself think it through so he wouldn’t change his mind, he typed, Wanna come over? There was a pause, and he held his breath, waiting, waiting, hoping for the response he wanted. And then, Be there in 5 minutes. Elliot grinned and pumped his fist. “Yes!” Then he realized 87

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what a dork he probably looked like doing it and felt heat slide up his cheeks. “Now you are being a dork. Who the hell’s going to see you?” he mumbled, still grinning. Oh shit. Five minutes! He jumped up off the couch, feeling more energetic than he had all day, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’d just finished and was coming out of the bathroom when he saw headlights flash across the trees on the street below. He looked out the window and saw Al’s Jeep parking beneath a maple tree. His heart still pounding, he went to the door to wait, and when he thought an appropriate amount of time had passed for Al to have climbed the stairs, he opened the door. Al stood there, about to raise his hand to knock. Their gazes locked, and Elliot wasn’t even sure how it happened or who started it, but the next thing he knew Al was in the apartment with the door slammed shut behind him, and they were in each other’s arms. Their mouths fused, tongues lashing. Hands were everywhere, tangling in hair, stroking backs and asses, tearing shirts up and over heads, brushing over nipples and undoing zippers. Elliot’s breathing came out in harsh gasps between kisses, and Al’s was much the same. Al lifted him again, like he had the night before, and carried him to the bed. This time, they were old hat at it, knew what they wanted and where this was going. “Missed you so damn much all day,” Al said, before capturing his mouth again. They rolled on the bed, kissing, fondling, trying to touch 88

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everywhere and everything at once. The rest of their clothes disappeared at some point, leaving them bare warm skin to bare warm skin. Lube came off the bedside table where Al had left it earlier in the day, and they slicked each other, slicked everything, enjoying the sensation of slippery heat. This time, Elliot nudged Al to roll over onto his stomach, which he did. And this time it was Elliot who donned the condom. Al moved to his knees, letting his butt lift in the air, and Elliot thought he’d explode just from that sight alone. He pushed already slick fingers into Al’s hole and thrust them in and out, watching Al writhe. It was so, so fucking hot. This position made it harder for Elliot because if Al said anything to him he’d have trouble hearing it. But it was so worth it just for the view. He replaced his fingers with his cock, and with a firm thrust, buried himself in Al’s beautiful, clenching ass. Al bucked against him, and Elliot didn’t need to hear him to know he was moaning. He felt the vibration through Al’s entire body. His hands gripping Al’s hips, he fucked him hard and deep. Al met his every thrust with a back thrust of his own. Their bodies slapped together, ass to groin. The bed rocked beneath them. And still Elliot didn’t let up. He felt possessed, desperate, and the only way to find what he needed was to lose himself inside this man once and for all. His balls tightened, and heat flooded him. But still it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t ready. He needed more and more and more. He knew he was crying out with each thrust now, and felt Al doing the same. And then… 89

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Oh God, and then… Like a tidal wave, climax roared over Elliot. The first wave hit hard, pushing him deeper than ever into Al, rocking him forward on the bed. The second was almost as powerful. Before the third could hit, he pulled out, stripped off the condom, then came on the globes of Al’s ass, watching the delicate strings of cum land on the pale skin and glisten in the moonlight. Reaching around to Al’s groin, his hand had barely touched Al’s dick before Al was coming as well, driving into Elliot’s hand, hard and fast, his body trembling. When they were both spent, Elliot sank against Al’s back, his arms curling around his waist, shaking hard, exhausted. They stayed like that for only a minute, and then Al sank to the bed and was rolling over, pulling Elliot with him, until Elliot lay on top of him. As they had outside the door, their gazes locked and Elliot was shaken to the core when he realized Al’s eyes were damp, and so were his own. “I missed you, too,” Elliot whispered. Al’s lips sought out his in a kiss so tender it wrenched at Elliot’s heart. And he knew, in that moment, that whatever the future brought, whatever trouble might be brewing, he’d stand by Al no matter what.

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CHAPTER 7 A faint chime mixed with a buzzing sound woke Al. He blinked, not sure where he was or what he’d heard. It came again, and he suddenly placed it. It was his phone. A text message. But where the hell was his phone? He started to roll over, but felt the warm weight of something against his back. And then he remembered. Elliot. Al smiled. The phone could wait. This was much better. This time, he eased to the side before he rolled over so he wouldn’t disturb the man sleeping next to him. And Elliot was sleeping, deeply. When Al finally got turned, his heart went soft at the sight of the man curled on his side, one hand under his head and the other, 91

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which had been around Al as he snuggled against his back, now rested on the bed next to him. His dark hair spiked in unruly waves around his face and over his ears, and his eyelashes, resting on his cheeks, were the same dark color as his hair. He’d taken his hearing aids out to sleep—they lay on the table next to the bed. Dark stubble covered Elliot’s cheeks and chin and upper lip, and it looked particularly sexy for some reason. Definitely kissable, and if he didn’t think he’d wake Elliot doing it, he’d kiss him right now. And yet, in spite of the facial hair, in sleep Elliot looked younger, without the tired lines around his eyes, his face relaxed. Jesus…he couldn’t even express how in love with this man he was. Al’s phone chimed again, followed by a buzz. It sounded loud to him now, but Elliot didn’t move, and Al was glad. He needed the sleep. Careful not to disturb him, Al sat up and slipped out of bed. He padded across the floor to his jeans in a pile in the corner and fished out his phone. The phone screen had already gone dark, so he clicked it to life again. What he saw made his lungs seize in shock. The text, from his mother, said: Explanation? You’ve probably single-handedly cost me my campaign with this. Below the words was a picture. A high definition, fully detailed, side-view picture of him and Elliot wrapped in each other’s arms in a full-body embrace. They stood thigh to thigh, groin to groin, chest to chest, kissing. It was a picture of raw 92

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intimacy, leaving no doubt as to what they were thinking at that moment. And it had been made night before last, outside of Dale’s. “Fuck. Fuck!” His hands shaking with fury, he fired off a text to his mom: Where did this come from? Who took this picture? Less than a minute later he got a response: Don’t know the photog, but it ran in half a dozen major newspapers this morning. Followed by another in rapid succession: Proud of yourself? Okay, not a good fucking time for her to pull that bullshit. Al’s fingers moved over the keys: Not interested in your campaign. Want to know who the fuck invaded our privacy! He hit the Send button. “Who…the fuck…invaded…our…privacy?” he growled, saying it aloud as he kicked his jeans across the floor in a fit of anger. “Al, what is it?” Elliot. Every protective instinct inside Al welled up and made him want to do bodily harm to whoever had taken that picture just so he could make everything all right for Elliot. Because this was exactly the kind of crap Eliot had talked about the other night. Damn it. He didn’t want to have to tell Elliot. But he wouldn’t keep secrets from him either. He turned to find him sitting up in bed, putting his hearing aids on, his worried gaze fastened on Al. Flicking on his phone screen again, Al scrolled up to the picture and passed his phone over to him. “My mom sent this just now. She said it appeared in a bunch of newspapers this morning.” Elliot stared at him, the lines around his mouth tightening, his 93

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worry changing to fear. Finally, his gaze slid down to the picture. Al knew the moment it registered for him because his eyes widened in disbelief and a soft, shocked huff escaped him. His gaze crawled back up to Al, then down to the picture again. “This was made outside Dale’s,” he said. “Two nights ago.” “I know.” Al moved back to the bed and sat down stiffly next to Elliot. “The noise we heard. Someone was there.” “Yeah. Because this was made after that noise, after I went over there and looked.” “It’s the angle it would be from that corner, too.” Elliot suddenly moaned. “Inside the Dumpster.” Al realized he hadn’t ever looked inside it. Oh fuck. He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration. Someone had been hiding inside the piece of shit Dumpster! He rose to his feet again and paced. “Who the fuck invaded our privacy?” he demanded again to no one in particular. He noticed his mom hadn’t responded to the question. Probably because she was offended by his vulgarity. Or because he’d told her he didn’t care about her damned campaign. He turned back to the bed. “I’m so sorry, Elliot. This is exactly what you were afraid of, isn’t it? His face grim, Elliot nodded. “So it begins. If it starts here, with someone hiding in a Dumpster photographing us and splashing our faces all over newspapers, what will come next?” The empty, resigned look on his face was more than Al could bear. He drew in a deep breath and let it fill him, ground him. He had to fix this. It was time to shut up, quit blustering, and get answers. He returned to the bed and sank down next to Elliot. “It’s going 94

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to be okay. We’ll get to the bottom of this and put an end to it.” “How?” “I don’t know yet. But we’re not going to live in fear, damn it, always looking over our shoulder. Whoever did this, we’re going to find ’em and take ’em down.” “Which is a good plan…until the next reporter or photographer follows right behind.” Al let out a frustrated sigh. Not frustrated at Elliot—frustrated at this whole damned situation. Elliot seemed to realize that because he captured Al’s face in his hands and pulled him into a kiss. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” Al said when they broke apart. “I’m sure the last thing you expected or wanted was to find your face in the news.” “It’s not my favorite thing, no. Do I look like the kind of guy who wants to be in the spotlight? But we’ll get through it.” “You’re pretty amazing, you know that? Three days ago you would have reamed my ass for bringing this down on you.” “Three days ago I wasn’t a very happy person.” “Are you now?” Elliot’s gaze was intense, but the beginning flicker of a smile teased at his lips. “Do you really have to ask?” Al smiled. “When you look at me that way? No.” That brought him a full answering smile in return. “What do you have going on today?” Al asked. “I have a class from one to four, then work at four-thirty.” “Okay. How ’bout if I walk you to class?” “I’m driving to school,” Elliot said dryly. “Okaaay, how ’bout if I drive with you to school and then walk you to class?” 95

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“What, are you going to be my protector? My bodyguard?” “You don’t want me?” That brought another smile to his face. “I always want you. Surely you’ve figured that out already, considering what we’ve spent the past two nights doing.” “I think it’s pretty obvious right now,” Al said, lowering his hand to Elliot’s groin and curling his fingers around his half erection. Elliot sucked in a breath and his eyes closed for a second. But then they fluttered back open and his hand settled atop Al’s, stopping him. “As much as I would rather do this, I have to get ready for school.” “I thought you said you didn’t have class until one?” “I had planned to go to the lab this morning.” “Does that mean you’re turning me down on my offer to walk you to class, too?” “I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you take me to breakfast instead. I heard the pancake house out on Route 5 has good waffles.” Al grinned. “Deal.” Then he sobered. “It’s going to be okay, Elliot. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” “I hope so.” But he didn’t look convinced. *

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Al got to work around four-fifteen, antsy to talk to Elliot about what he’d discovered today. It had bothered the shit out of him that some random paparazzi would have ever known about him and Elliot with enough certainty to hide outside the bar and take pictures. Whoever it was had to 96

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have been tipped off, but who the hell would have known since he and Elliot just got together the night the pic was made. But as he’d pieced the mystery together today, along with his mother’s help— although he used the word help loosely here because she was still barely talking to him and had informed him that once again she had to spend the day cleaning up his messes—he’d discovered some answers. It hadn’t gotten him any closer to a solution for how to prevent the issues Elliot was worried about or stop the escalating snowball from running down the proverbial hill once other news sources picked up the story, but at least he knew how it had gotten started. Elliot’s class got out at four, so Al figured he should be here anytime now since the university was less than a fifteen-minute drive away. But four-twenty came and went, then four-twenty-five, fourthirty. Al had been waiting in the kitchen, knowing Elliot would come in the back door, but at four-thirty he had to go out to the bar and start work since the day shift went off the clock then. He said a quick hi and bye to the bartenders, and took over. And still no sign of Elliot. “Where’s Elliot?” Mandy asked, coming out of the kitchen tying on her apron. “Isn’t he working tonight?” “Yeah. He should be here.” He looked at his watch. Fourthirty-five. “It’s not like him to be late.” It was never like him to be late. In the whole six months he’d been working with Elliot, the man had been late exactly never, not even by a minute. “Let me see if I can find out where he’s at. Maybe he had car 97

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trouble or something.” Al pulled out his phone and texted Elliot. Everything okay? He hit Send, and waited. Mandy went to take orders at a new table of customers. When she returned, she asked if Al had heard back. “No.” And that worried him. He picked up his phone, which he’d left lying on the bar so he’d see it right away when Elliot texted back, and tried again. Getting worried about you. You’re never late. Is everything okay? He checked his watch again. Four-forty-five. Fran came out of her office a couple of minutes later. She was a weathered old gal, with long gray hair she wore in a braid down her back, skin the color of chewin’ tobacco, bright blue eyes, and always dressed in jeans and a black Dale’s T-shirt just like the rest of the staff. “Al, how’s it going?” “Okay,” he said, distractedly. “You?” “Same as usual.” A frown deepened the furrows on her leathery forehead. “Where’s Elliot? Isn’t he scheduled tonight?” “Yeah. He’s not here. I’m trying to get in touch with him.” Her brows rose. “That’s odd. He’s never late.” “I know.” Spikes of worry shot through Al now. Straight through his heart. Where the hell was he? And why wasn’t he answering his messages? “Well, do me a favor and let me know when he gets here,” Fran said. “Just so I know he’s okay.” “All right.” Fran’s forehead crinkled again. “You all right, Texas? You look a little green around the gills.” Al swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m just worried about Elliot. Like 98

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you said, it’s not like him to be late.” “Ahh. You two finally made your peace, did ya?” she said with a knowing smile. “Did you?” Mandy asked, her voice lilting and a smile blooming over her face as she came up to the bar just then with a drink order. “Yay!” She clapped her hands together. Al stared at them both askance. “What, is this some kind of plot?” Fran chuckled. “Well, let’s just say there’s been some noticeable chemistry brewin’ between you boys for a while now” “He hated me,” Al said. “Well, you know what they always say…there’s a fine line between love and hate.” “Besides, he’s never hated you,” Mandy said. “Angry maybe, annoyed, but the way he’s always looked at you…yeah, not so much with the hate. Trust me.” Al didn’t have to. He already knew the truth. He’d woken up with it warm and sexy and pressed up against him in bed this morning. “You’re smiling,” Mandy accused. “And that’s bad why?” “’Cause it’s a devious smile. Like you know something we d— ohhh!” Her eyes grew bigger. “Ohhh! You guys made a little more than just your peace, didn’t you?” “I never kiss and tell,” Al said. Obviously the full cover picture of him kissing Elliot and their clench telling the story to the whole world hadn’t made it to the sleepy college town of High Peaks, Colorado yet, or Mandy wouldn’t have to be asking that question. Fran chuckled again. “All right, children, back to work. Back to work.” 99

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As Al reached for the order form Mandy had left on the bar for him, Mandy’s cell buzzed. She looked at it, then lifted her gaze to Fran and said apologetically. “I’m sorry, I don’t ever take calls at work, I promise. But I keep my phone on so my husband and mom can get me if there’s an emergency. This is my husband. He knows I’m working. He would never call unless…” Fran nodded. “Go! Go take it.” “Thank you!” Mandy shimmied her way through the customers and went out the front door. “Until Elliot gets here, if it gets busy and you need a hand, Texas, give me a holler.” “Okay, thanks.” Al’s stomach knotted all over again. He looked at his watch. It was five now. A half hour late. He waited until Fran returned to her office and shut the door, then he pulled out his phone again and dialed Elliot’s number. It rang several times with no answer and then went to voice mail. Al didn’t leave one. “Damn it, Elliot!” He tried another text. Text me. Please. I’m worried. He set to work on the drink order, but his mind was only half on it as he poured liquor and mixers. He and Elliot had had breakfast this morning at the pancake house, and then parted ways with Elliot getting into his car to go to the lab at school, and Al in his Jeep, headed home to his house for the second morning in a row to shower and change clothes. Elliot had been fine when they’d left the diner. Well, maybe fine wasn’t the right word. Neither of them had been fine after the shock of finding a very intimate picture of them posted all over God’s Green Earth. But at least he’d smiled during breakfast. And 100

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when they got out to the parking lot, though they’d both been conscious of the possibility of being watched, they’d shared a kiss against the side of the Jeep, blocked by its bulky body. “Where are you?” Al whispered. He was just setting the drinks onto a tray for delivery when Mandy came back inside looking pale as a sheet. “What is it?” Al asked. “Mandy, what is it? Is everything okay with your family?” She looked shaken, and tears welled in her eyes. “We need to get Fran. She needs to hear this, too.” Al’s heart plummeted into his boots. “Okay.” Mandy asked the other waitress on duty, Shelby, to cover for them for a few minutes, then knocked on Fran’s door as Al came out from behind the bar. “Come,” he heard Fran call. Mandy opened the door. “Can we talk to you?” “Absolutely.” Al followed Mandy into Fran’s inner sanctum and shut the door behind them. “What is it, Mandy?” Fran asked. The tears she’d obviously been trying so hard to hold back burst free. “It’s Elliot.” The bottom fell out of Al’s stomach. “Oh God, what happened?” “He’s been hit by a car.” “Jesus, a car accident?” “No.” Mandy shook her head. “He was a pedestrian. Jerry just happened to be there and saw the whole thing.” Al’s heart raced and he suddenly thought he might be sick. “How bad is it? Is he all right?” His voice, when it came out, 101

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sounded raspy and distant. He bent over, fighting nausea, then straightened again. “God, is he all right?” Mandy’s eyes continued to flood. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know. Jerry said it looked like Elliot was crossing the street, except he kept turning to look behind him, like he was expecting somebody to be following him or something, and then a car came out of nowhere, turned the corner and…” She winced. “Jerry said there was blood and the ambulance came, and then they took him away. But he didn’t know anything.” “Did Jerry know what hospital?” Fran asked. “He thought Memorial Main.” “I have to go,” Al said. “I have to…” “Go,” Fran said. “I’ll cover the bar tonight. You go be with him.” She turned to Mandy. “Do you want to go as well?” “No…I can’t leave you totally short-staffed on a Friday night. Shelby can’t handle the floor on her own.” She sniffed and pulled a Kleenex out of the box on Fran’s desk, trying to pull herself together. “Al needs to be the one to go. Go,” she urged him. He didn’t wait to hear anything else. He wasn’t even sure how he made it out to his Jeep—didn’t remember walking through the bar, through the kitchen. He just knew he found himself standing by the green CJ7. He slid behind the wheel and started it, then took a deep breath, knowing he had to keep it together, that he couldn’t drive unless he was steady and cognizant. But even then, when he pulled into the hospital parking lot, he couldn’t remember getting there. He parked, slid out and ran to the entrance. He knew there had to be an emergency entrance somewhere, but he’d never had to come to the hospital in the four years he’d live here, and he couldn’t think clearly. So he went to the main entrance, and a nice 102

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older woman working the information desk had pointed the way through the maze of hallways. Elliot. God, Elliot. Al felt sick inside. He had no idea what he was going to find. Jerry had seen the ambulance leave with him, but that didn’t tell him anything. What if Elliot was dead? What if he got down to the ER and asked about him and some sympathetic-faced doctor came out to tell him Elliot hadn’t made it? In a daze, after taking a couple of wrong turns, he finally came out in the emergency waiting room. “Can I help you, sir?” a brisk woman at the desk asked. “Elliot Cullimore,” Al said, his voice shaking. “He was…he was brought in a while ago.” “Are you a family member?” “No. Yes.” “No or yes? Because I can’t give you any information unless you’re family.” “He doesn’t have any family. His parents are gone. He doesn’t have any siblings. There’s just…me. My name’s Al Baxter, and…” “It’s okay, take a breath. What’s your relationship to Mr. Cullimore? Are you his friend?” Al shook his head. “Boyfriend.” The woman raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. But having said the word, he suddenly felt calmer. And her raised eyebrow ticked him off. “He’s my boyfriend,” he said, his voice steadier. “Please, is he all right? I was told he was hit by a car.” “I can’t—” “Don’t.” Al cut her off. “I know my rights and I know his. He has no other family and I am his partner, which gives me every right to get information about him and to visit him. If you really 103

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want to push this, it’s only going to look bad for you. Now, please…Elliot Cullimore.” The woman’s face turned a shade of red, and she glared at him, but finally said, her tone stiff, “He’s still being treated. I’ll let Dr. McCarthy know you’re out here and she’ll come talk to you as soon as she’s able. In the meantime, you can wait in the waiting room.” “Thank you.” Al sank into a chair near the door. The encounter with the woman had drained him, but at least now he knew Elliot was alive. If he was “still being treated” that had to be good, right? But it also told him nothing. He might be alive, but that could mean a vast array of things. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Please, please be okay. Please. The chime on his phone went off and he almost didn’t look at it because if it was his mom he couldn’t deal with that right now. But when it went off again to remind him he still hadn’t checked the message, he finally reached into his pocket and pulled it out. It was Mandy. Any news? No. I’m waiting for a doctor to come out and talk to me. Hang in there, Al. Let us know. ’Kay. “Mr. Baxter?” He looked up to find a tall thirty-something woman with a brown ponytail and startlingly green eyes approach him. “Yes?” He stood, and she met him with a smile and her hand out. “Kate McCarthy. You’re Mr. Cullimore’s boyfriend?” She didn’t look the least bit uptight like the woman at the desk did, and Al was supremely relieved he wasn’t going to have to have another 104

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confrontation. “Yes. How is he?” “He’s stable. He’s a very, very lucky man. From what I understand of the situation from the witness testimonies, the car that hit him could have done far worse damage. He’s banged up, has a dislocated shoulder, and is going hurt for several days, but no internal injuries, no spinal injuries.” Al nearly sagged with relief. “Oh God. Thank you.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “You can come sit with him if you’d like. He’s probably going to be asleep or groggy for a while because we gave him some really nice drugs, but I’m sure he’d appreciate not being alone. As soon as we get a bed opened up in the general ward we’ll move him there. I’d like him to stay overnight for observation, but as long as nothing unexpected crops up, he should be able to go home tomorrow.” “I just can’t even tell you how grateful I am. Thank you.” “You’re welcome. He’s lucky to have someone who cares about him so much.” Al swallowed hard at her easy acceptance of their relationship. This was how everyone should be, damn it. “Come on. Let’s go see your fella.” She led Al through the swinging doors into the emergency room itself and to a curtained-off cubicle in the left bank of cubicles. “Here you go.” She pulled back the curtain, and Al’s breath caught at the sight of Elliot lying in the bed, his eyes closed, looking so pale against the blue sheets, but so alive. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched Elliot’s chest rising and falling. He crossed over to him and gently kissed his forehead where his wavy hair had been pushed back off his face. 105

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“There’s a chair here and a vending machine just down the hall. If you’d like anything, you’re welcome to bring it in here. His personal items are here in the cubby—the small items are in an envelope. His clothes, I’m afraid were shredded, though. About his hearing aids, one looks okay—it never came out—but the other did come out and is a bit banged up. I put it back in, but there’s no way to tell if they’re working until he wakes up and can try them. I’m guessing he has a spare set at home he can use if he needs them, but if not, then he might need to order some new ones.” Al nodded. “Like I said, he’ll probably be out for a bit. And we’ll get him set up in a room upstairs as soon as we can.” “Thanks,” Al murmured, but he only had eyes for Elliot. When she’d gone, he dragged the chair up close to the bed, sat down, and picked up Elliot’s hand, holding it between his. He brought it to his lips and gently kissed the skin above his scraped and raw knuckles. He had a scrape that ran along his left cheek, and it looked like his entire left arm, from what he could tell with it inside the sling, had road rash. That was obviously the side where he’d taken the fall onto the asphalt. His right arm was scraped as well, and he couldn’t see much else because of the hospital gown and the covers. Al leaned over him and kissed his cheek. “Hi, babe,” he whispered. “Looks like you had a rough day, but everything’s gonna be okay now.” Al’s voice caught, as emotion clogged his throat. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

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CHAPTER 8 Elliot felt like he was floating…floating, like he was rocking on a boat in the middle of a gentle lake. He thought he could lie back, tip his face up to the sky, and feel the heat of the sun beating down on him. Except the sun was too warm and his skin tingled. No, more than tingled. Ow! He’d gotten sunburned already. Well, that wasn’t very nice. But the rocking boat was. He lay still and let it carry him. Until his sunburn grew worse, burning and stinging. “Did I forget the sunscreen?” he mumbled. “I don’t think so. Did you need some?” a warm, raspy, drawling voice answered. Oh, he liked that voice. It was nice, too. Like the boat. “Boat’s 107

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nice.” “Is it?” He thought he heard a hint of humor in the voice now. “Nice. But…sunscreen. Next time.” “Okay, we’ll bring the sunscreen next time.” “’Kay thanks.” “You’re welcome.” “Come float.” “Come float?” “Boat’s nice.” A soft low chuckle rippled around him, making him feel warm and tingling and…nice. He wanted to keep listening to it, but he was so sleepy now. “’Night.” The last thing he heard was the voice saying, “Goodnight, Elliot. I love you.” And then he felt something warm and damp and pleasant against his lips, and that was nice, too. *

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Elliot came awake slowly, waffling in some bizarre middle land between fuzzy sleep and pain. The fuzzy sleep…not his favorite. The pain, really not either. But in the end, the pain drew him because at least there, his head was clear. His eyes fluttered open to darkness. Or, as they adjusted, mostly darkness. He realized he was lying in bed, except not his own. And his body felt funny, achy. His skin burned. And when he tried to shift his position, he couldn’t move his left arm. It was trapped. Frustrated, he began to fight against whatever held it in place. 108

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Firm but gentle hands stopped him. “Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay, Elliot.” That voice. He knew that voice. Loved that voice. “Al?” The gentle hands returned, settling carefully over his. “I’m here.” “I need… Could you turn on some lights?” “Sure.” He heard Al move, then, slowly, the light level in the room crept up. “Better?” “Yeah, thanks.” Elliot turned his head and found Al sitting in a chair next to the bed, his expression filled with worried tenderness. “Hi,” Elliot said. Al smiled. “Hi.” “I think they gave me really good drugs.” “I think they did, too.” “Did I have a conversation with you about…sunscreen?” Al’s soft laugh was a balm to his soul. “Yeah, you did.” “That’s weird.” “You also talked to me about boats. They were nice.” “Boats? God, I have no memory of that. I hope I didn’t say anything else too weird.” “Not too.” He reached out to touch Al’s cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” And he was. God, he looked so good, so warm and alive. “So are you.” Al’s voice trembled. “Did I scare you?” “Yeah.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I know, babe.” Al’s hand captured his and brought it to his 109

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lips, where he pressed a kiss against the palm. “I’m just grateful to have you here. How do you feel?” “Weird. My head’s still fuzzy and my mouth feels funny.” “That’s the drugs. You want some water?” “Yeah, please.” Al stood and moved to the table at the foot of the bed where a plastic pitcher and glass sat. He poured some water, then brought it back to Elliot. “Do you want to sit up a little?” Elliot nodded, and Al pushed the button on the side of the bed. Slowly the head of the bed rose until Elliot was half sitting half reclining. “That good?” “Yeah, thanks.” His head was getting clearer, and when Al handed him the water and he had a few sips, his dry mouth felt better, too. He was able to better assess himself from this position and finally saw the reason he couldn’t move his left arm was because it was in a sling. He had a vague memory of a nice woman telling him his shoulder had been dislocated, then he’d felt a sharp, excruciating pain, and then he’d blacked out. “What’s the damage?” he asked Al. “Dislocated shoulder, some pretty ugly road rash and scrapes and bruises. But amazingly, no broken bones or internal injuries.” Al had returned to the chair and he seemed too far away. “The doctor said you were very lucky. But that you’re going to hurt for a while.” Al swallowed another sip of water. “Yeah, I’m sort of getting that.” Al handed him a button connected to the IV pump. “You have morphine set up in a drip if you need it. All you have to do is press the button.” “No! A world of no.” Elliot pushed the button back into Al’s 110

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hand. “I’d rather have the pain than more weird dreams and fuzziness.” “Okay. But it’s here if you change your mind.” “I won’t.” “How are your hearing aids? The doctor said one of them stayed in but the other one that came out looked banged up. She was worried they might not be working properly.” Elliot reached up with his free right hand and touched each. “They seem to be working okay.” “Good. I’m glad.” The conversation felt…odd. And strangely distant. Like he and Al were once again cautiously circling each other, being careful of what they said, and Elliot didn’t understand why. He didn’t want this. He’d held Al at a distance for way too long and didn’t want to go back to that. Didn’t want to see Al measuring his words as if he were afraid he might say the wrong thing. He wanted the Al who’d pulled him into his arms in the parking lot at Dale’s and confessed how long he’d wanted to be with him. He wanted the Al who’d pressed him up against his front door and stolen his breath with kisses. He wanted the Al who’d looked down at him in the moonlight and told him how beautiful he was and then filled him so deeply and thoroughly that Elliot knew he’d never be the same again. And then he remembered something. A soft, drawling voice in his drug-induced dreams. Goodnight Elliot. I love you. Elliot’s eyes welled with tears. “I love you, Al.” He heard Al’s breath catch. And then, as Elliot watched, it was as if a hundred emotions flickered over his face, and finally, the one that was left burned with such intensity it stole Elliot’s breath. 111

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He moved so quickly Elliot didn’t even know how he got out of the chair and to the edge of the bed as fast as he did. But it didn’t matter how. All that mattered was that in a matter of precious heartbeats, Al’s arms were around him, gently, so gently, but fully encompassing. “Jesus, Elliot, I love you, too. I love you and I was so damn scared.” His voice, cracked with emotion, tore at Elliot’s heart. “I was scared, too. As I was lying there on the street, I thought I was going to die and never see you again.” “When I found out you’d been hit by a car, for a long time I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive. No one knew. All the way to the hospital, I didn’t know.” Al leaned back and his eyes were as wet as Elliot’s. “What happened? How did this happen?” Elliot rested his forehead against Al’s, closing his eyes, trying to remember the details. “Take your time,” Al said, stroking his hair. “I came out of class at four o’clock. I was hurrying, not really paying attention because I was looking forward to getting to the bar and seeing you. I bumped into someone, just outside Wilmer Hall. I started to apologize, but then I saw the guy had a camera and a microphone. ‘Are you Elliot Cullimore?’ he asked me. I kind of stumbled over a response because I suddenly realized no one with a camera and microphone would be talking to me in real life. And then I knew what it was about.” Al swore softly. “I can’t believe someone waylaid you like that.” “I told him I wasn’t going to talk to him, that I had nothing to say. I started walking fast. I had parked in the M lot, you know, the one closest to the lab since I’d been at the lab this morning. He 112

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kept pestering me and was following me, shouting questions at me as I walked, except I couldn’t hear specifically what he was saying, just that he was shouting. It’s hard for me to tell where sounds are coming from, especially when they’re behind me. “I kept dodging between the buildings, hoping to lose him, but he was persistent. Finally, I thought maybe I’d lost him. I had to cross Central Avenue to get to the parking lot. I looked back over my shoulder and didn’t see him, checked for cars and everything was clear, then I stepped out in the street to cross. “As I did, I saw him out of the corner of my eye and he was behind me again, kind of racing toward me, like he knew I was headed to the parking lot and he wanted to catch me before I got there and could drive off. I was in the middle of the street and I remember looking back at him again.” His voice hitched as emotion built inside him. “I had my back turned to the street for just a second, Al. Just one second. But when I turned around, a car was practically on top of me.” A sob tore through him. “ I didn’t hear the horn until I saw it. And by that time…it was too late.” Elliot sobbed against Al’s shoulder, letting the tears come. He felt Al’s shoulders shaking and knew he was crying, too. “Oh my God, Elliot. I could have lost you today. I could have lost you.” They clung together, Al slowly rocking them back and forth, but all the while so very careful of Elliot’s injuries. Elliot didn’t know how long they held each other, or how long it was before finally the emotional storm had passed. He just knew that for the first time in his life, from the time he was a little boy left to fend for himself at far too young an age, to when he’d been sick with meningitis and lost his hearing, and all the way into 113

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adulthood…for the first time he felt like he belonged. Like he’d finally come home. Al cupped his face and kissed him, infinitely gentle, but with so much passion and tenderness and love that Elliot wondered if it was possible to have too much emotion inside, so much a person couldn’t contain it all. “Are you comfortable?” Al…always the nurturer. Elliot managed a watery smiled, even though it made the scrape on his face hurt. “Yeah. Just don’t let me go.” Al’s gaze devoured him. “Never.” Elliot rubbed a hand over Al’s cheeks, feeling the prickle of his blond, day-old stubble. “Who’s doing this, Al? Who started this? Do you know?” His eyes grew trouble. “Yeah, I know. My mom found out that someone on her staff leaked it.” “Leaked what?” “Information about me being gay. Remember I told you that back in November my mom’s staff was contacted by a the old guy about the video? Well, even though my mom made sure all the copies were destroyed and later had the old man arrested when he tried to get money from her, a couple of her staff members knew about it. Maybe they didn’t watch the video, but they figured out what is was. One of them, it turns out, was a plant for another candidate.” “Like a political mole?” “Exactly like that. She passed the information to the other candidate that I was gay, and he hired a private eye to follow me and find out. I guess he’d been following me for a while, and since I hadn’t been seeing anyone at all for months, I’m sure he was 114

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getting bored. But then, he just happened to be out there the night you and I first got together. So he took pictures, handed them over to the other candidate, and the rest you know. The staff member has been fired, but now that the word’s out…” “It’s going to spread and anyone who wants to get some dirt about your mom is going to come peeking in at you.” “No. Not anymore.” “What do you mean? There’s no way to stop it. It’s like a snowball rolling downhill.” Al smiled. “I used that same analogy myself earlier today.” But then he sobered. “There is a way.” His voice was deep and firm. “And as soon as I get you home safe and sound, I’m going to make sure it happens.” Elliot had never seen him so determined before, so confident, and he realized he was getting a glimpse of the attorney Al would one day become. A frisson of pride slid through him. He could see Al making a career out of standing up for the underdog. “Speaking of home…can you get me out of here?” “They said you can go tomorrow—well, I guess technically, it’s today already. Probably around midday the doctor said when she came by a few hours ago.” “Any way you can sneak me out earlier? I don’t want to be here.” Al smiled, but his gaze was sympathetic. “It won’t be so bad. Just a few more hours.” Elliot huffed out a sigh. He hurt more than he wanted to admit to Al, but being in the hospital wasn’t going to help. He wanted his own bed. And he wanted to feel Al’s lean nude body stretched out next to him, feel his arms around him. “Promise you’ll stay with me?” 115

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“Always.” *

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Elliot woke up in his own bed, finally, and smiled. The only thing missing was the warm heat of the man he’d fallen asleep against last night. Still, he could smell Al’s clean, soapy scent on the pillows under his head, and could hear his voice, or what he thought was probably his voice somewhere in the apartment, though he couldn’t make out details. Scooching over in the bed so he could reach his hearing aids on the bedside table with his usable hand, he scooped them up and slipped them on. Instantly things began to clear. Al’s voice became less muddy and more the sweet, sexy drawl Elliot loved, though he still couldn’t quite make out all the words. Who was Al talking to? He levered himself up to a sitting position where he had a decent view of most of the studio apartment, and found Al sitting on the couch facing Elliot, with his Macbook on the coffee table in front of him. Yesterday on the way home from the hospital they’d stopped by Al’s house so he could pick up some clothes and his computer. He’d said he didn’t want to have to leave Elliot for the next several days, and Elliot wasn’t going to argue. He’d be perfectly happy, he realized, to have Al here all the time. He’d never felt that way about sharing his space before—it had always been his sanctuary and he’d never even invited over his few friends. But with Al it was different. Having him here made everything feel complete. Al was talking again, and Elliot realized he must be using his computer to talk to someone. 116

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He eased off the bed and stood, his body really not happy still over all the damned bruises and scabs that were forming, but he had to pee and his body was just going to have to cooperate. At least he didn’t have to bother with getting dressed, since he already was. As much as he’d wanted to be skin to skin with Al last night, it just wasn’t practical. The road rash across his left arm, shoulder, side, and hip just felt better covered and not exposed. And the sling got in the way. Finally, Al had helped him put on some stretchy sweatshorts and an old white button-down because it was the softest thing he owned that was easy to get on and off, and he’d just slept in that. When he was on his feet with minimal groaning and wincing, he looked over at Al, who looked up across the top of his computer at the same time, as if they had a homing signal between them. Even though Al’s face was tense and his eyes snapped with irritation—Uh oh, that couldn’t be good. Was it one of his parents?—the moment his gaze met Elliot’s, his face softened, his eyes filled with tenderness, and he gave Elliot a smile that went straight to his soul. Damn. Was this man really his? Elliot didn’t know what kind of dumb-ass he’d been for the past six months that he hadn’t ever realized how Al felt about him. But then…he let go of his self censure, because the past was exactly where it needed to be—the past. This, right here—the man across from him, wearing jeans, boots, and a light-blue V-neck sweater that made him look like Preppy Ken and hot fucking Texas cowboy all rolled into one— this was his future. Elliot limped to the bathroom and relieved himself, took a look in the mirror and tried to tame his unruly hair with damp fingers 117

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only to give up, brushed his teeth, then came back out. The moment he stepped out of the bathroom he could tell the conversation Al was having had heated up by the tone of Al’s voice. Whoever Al was talking to, and again he strongly suspected it was one of his folks, Al had reached his limit, and Elliot could see the determination in his eyes, and the clenching of his jaw. Whoever it was, Elliot was pretty damn sure they were about to meet an Al Baxter they’d never met before. What had Al said about his mother? That she was formidable? Elliot couldn’t think of a better word to describe Al’s body posture and facial expression right now. Fascinated, he crept closer. The bed and bathroom were on the opposite side of the studio apartment from the living room, but, as he got to the kitchen, he was able to make out words. And it was a video call—he realized Al could see whoever he was talking to and they could see him. “Mom, I didn’t call to have the same tired discussion again. I called because it’s time to put an end to this blame game and be productive. For the past seven months I’ve heard your arguments and threats over and over, but you have yet to listen to what I have to say on the matter. In the courtroom, both the prosecution and the defense have their allotted time to make their points. You haven’t afforded me that same respect. So this time, I’m asking you to be honorable and allow me time to have my say without constant interruption and criticism.” Elliot heard a female voice speak, and Al listened, but Elliot could tell from his body language he hadn’t given so much as millimeter. “I understand that, but that’s not what this is about, Mom. I 118

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love you and Dad. But I’m not a kid anymore that you can threaten or manipulate or punish if you don’t like something I do. I’m an adult and I have my own life and my own views. I respect the political career you’ve had, and the one you’re currently forging. I one-hundred percent support your right to run for public office under any agenda or views that you choose, even ones that are the complete opposite of mine. I think you’re good at what you do and you truly care about the people you represent. “However, what I can’t respect is intolerance and manipulation, and for the past seven months you’ve been exhibiting both. “Yes, the porn video was a foolish mistake that happened for all the wrong reasons. I accept full responsibility for making that mistake. I was young and cocky and paid the price. But that’s over and done with. You’ve destroyed all the copies, Mr. Cochrane is in jail, case closed. “What I can tell you is that while the pornography-making was a juvenile game, my attraction to men is not. It’s not a passing fad, it’s not something I’m going to grow out of, it’s not something I’m doing just to tick you off. I’ve known I was gay since I was fifteen. I’ve always fantasized about men, I’ve always been attracted to them, and I that’s not going to change. So let’s make some things crystal clear. “I’m not coming back to Texas for school. I’ve already enrolled in law school here, have arranged for my financial aid, and I have a full-time job. I will put myself through law school and, when it’s done, will have the satisfaction of knowing I worked hard for it and earned it on my own merits. So there will be no more mention of it in emails, in press releases, or in any other fashion. “Second, I will not continue to live my life in the closet for 119

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your career or because the truth offends your sensibilities. So no more emails or threats on that topic either. “Third, and this is the most important part of all. I’ve met someone, a man, and I’m in a relationship with him.” Al’s gaze skated up to brush with Elliot’s again, and, as before, the moment his eyes rested on Elliot, his entire demeanor softened. “This man”—his gaze slowly, almost regretfully, returned to the computer—“is important to me. As important to me as you and Dad are to each other. As Marsha’s husband is to her.” His gaze lifted to Elliot again and Elliot realized that Al’s mom had now become a mere observer and his words and heart were all for Elliot. “His name is Elliot,” Al said. “And I’m in love with him. And there is nothing on this earth that I will ever do to intentionally hurt him.” Elliot’s throat tightened with emotion. I love you, he mouthed to Al. Al’s returning smile had never been more beautiful. After a final, lingering look, his attention returned to his mom. “Unfortunately, while I would never hurt him, outside forces from your political campaign already have. A couple of days ago, you tracked down a leak in your own staff that led to one of your opponents hiring someone to stalk me and dig up dirt on me as a means of ruining your campaign. You plugged the leak and I’m happy for you about that. But unfortunately, it’s started a chain reaction that’s going to lead to more of these same types of incidents. It already has. Two nights ago, when Elliot was leaving the university after one of his grad classes, a reporter waylaid him, demanding he answer questions about his and my relationship. Elliot tried to get away, but the man chased after him and caused 120

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an accident that damn near cost Elliot his life. Do you know what it feels like to sit in a hospital waiting room and not know if the person you love most is going to live or die? “If you think that reporter was sent after him by anyone other than one of your opponents, who was digging for dirt to hurt your campaign, you’re deluding yourself.” Al paused, drew in a breath, and shook his head. “I know you love politics, and I know you have a lot to offer. But you know as well as I do that not everyone who runs for political office has scruples.” For the first time in several minutes, Elliot heard Al’s mother speak up. “Al, I am sorry about your…” “Boyfriend. Partner,” Al supplied. “Either one works, Mom.” His tone was patient. “I’m sorry about your…partner’s accident. Truly. But I don’t know why you think I have any control over this. I can’t control my opponents.” “No, but the reason they’re stalking me, and now Elliot, is because you have kept hidden the fact you have a gay son. They’re looking for skeletons in your closet and by continuing to deny my sexual preference, you are, for all intents and purposes, giving them fodder. You’re basically confirming for them that you have skeletons for them to find. And now, the more you deny it, the worse it makes you look because there are pictures posted in public newspapers of Elliot and me together. “The fact is, your opponents now have proof that you do, indeed, have a gay son. And that is not going to change, because I am going to be living my life here in Colorado openly with my male partner. Continuing to deny it after they have proof is only 121

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going to hurt you.” “What exactly would you suggest I do?” “I suggest you do what you’ve always done. Tell the truth. You’ve always run your political campaigns on a foundation of honesty—you’re the honest candidate. And that’s exactly what you need right now. These unscrupulous bastards who are your opponents are like schoolyard bullies. They beat and beat and beat on the kids they think are the weakest, and that’s all well and good until one of those weak kids stands up one day and kicks their collective asses. “Right now, they see you as the weak kid because they have power over you. They have you running, scrambling to hide the truth, scrambling to cover things up. Everything you do is reactive rather than proactive. So if you want to show these good ol’ boys who’s boss, it’s time to play for the offense instead of the defense. Once you bring out into the open the deep dark secret, well, it’s not deep or dark or a secret any longer, and then they have no leverage over you. You’ve taken the power. And once you have the power, then you make it clear, because you’re top dog, that your family is off limits. “You can have that power, Mom.” As Al had been speaking, Elliot, fascinated by the logic flying hard and fast from Al’s nimble mind and persuasive speech, had crept closer, wanting to catch a sight of the computer screen. He was curious about Al’s mom, who had been so caustic to him for months, yet had actually allowed Al to have his say today, and now even seemed to be contemplating his advice. Hell, if Elliot had been running for office he would have followed the man like he was the pied piper. “All I ask is that you consider the possibilities, Mom. You and 122

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Dad and I don’t have to see eye-to-eye on every issue. But one thing that I think is important to all of us is family. And I need you to understand that Elliot is my family now, too. As much as you want to protect your family, I want to protect mine. I do not want the person I love most in this world to be afraid every time he goes out of the house because someone might be stalking him. You have the ability to put an end to this cycle.” Silence followed. What felt to Elliot like a painfully long silence. He could see the blonde-haired women, Al’s mom, sitting in a contemplative position behind a desk with her fingers steepled in front of her. “I’ll take your suggestions under consideration,” she finally said. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.” “You talk pretty impressive logic. I hope High Peaks University Law appreciates what they’re getting in you.” “Thanks. I’ve had good teachers over the years.” Elliot thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile on her mouth. After they’d said goodbye and Al closed the lid of his computer, Elliot joined him, wincing with each step, yet unable to get the smile off his face. “You doin’ okay, babe?” Al got up and supported him the last few steps, then helped him get situated on the couch. “For someone who bellyached all day yesterday at the hospital that all you wanted in the whole world was your own bed, you didn’t stay there very long.” “I was lonely. I’ve decided I don’t like my bed half as much anymore when I’m in it by myself.” Al tsked. “Takin’ advantage. Tryin’ to wrap your nurse around your little finger.” He settled in next to Elliot, snuggling Elliot’s 123

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less banged up side against him Eliot gave him a teasing grin. “Well, I’d rather wrap him around something else, but that might have to wait a few days.” Al smiled. “You’re feelin’ better today, aren’t you?” “I got to sleep all night next to the man I love, woke up this morning to find him looking particularly hot, and got to hear him play a masterful game of verbal chess against a skilled opponent. All in all, it’s been a good day so far, yeah.” “Anything I can do to make it better?” “Kiss me.” “Oh, I’m always happy to do that.” He leaned in, and cupping Elliot’s cheek in a warm palm, grazed his lips over his. He took his time, teasing, tasting, caressing in a slow, gentle conquest. When at last he pulled away, his eyes promised more where that came from anytime Elliot wanted it. “Better?” he asked softly. “Always.” “Anything else?” “That I want you to kiss or that’s on my mind?” “Either. Both.” “Do you think your mother’ll do it?” “Ah…the big question of the day. I think…that she’ll take the suggestions under consideration.” “Uh-huh.” “That’s politician speak for, ‘I’m probably going to do what you said but I’m going to take the credit for the idea.’” Eliot chuckled, even though it kinda made him hurt. But then he eased himself around on the couch so he had a better view of Al’s face. “You really were pretty damned breathtaking when you were talking to her. I was watching you 124

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and…Jesus. You’re going to make a hell of an attorney, Al. Anyone would be proud and lucky to have you take on their battles.” Al smiled, one of those gentle, bone-melting smiles, and cradled Elliot’s face in his hands. “You know what I think? I think that no matter what I do in my life, the best part of me, the truest part of me…will always be you.”

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M. L. RHODES

Award-winning and best-selling author M.L. Rhodes lives in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains with her physicist husband, two teenage boys, and a menagerie of animals. She’s been writing professionally for sixteen years. Her characterization and emotional storytelling have received high critical acclaim and garnered her numerous awards in the writing industry. She’s had books published in several genres, but her focus now is entirely on gay male romance, which is her passion! If you’d like to keep up with what’s going on in M. L.’s world and find out about her new and upcoming releases, check out her website at www.mlrhodeswriting.com. *

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Don’t miss Wanting (part of the Rocky Mountain High: Campus Hearts series) available at AmberAllure.com! It started with one kiss. Which led to another. And another. And then to a mind-blowing night of intimacy Jeremy Reynolds can’t forget. He can’t stop thinking about the gorgeous, smart, compassionate man who tilted his world. Can’t stop seeing warm, sexy eyes gazing at him with breath-stealing intensity.

Jeremy tries to tell himself to let the incident go, move on, and chalk it up to a life experience. After all, what transpired between him and his best friend and roommate, Ben Cross, can never happen again. Ben is gay, and Jeremy…isn’t. At least he’s never thought he was before. But now he’s torn and confused and not sure what the night with Ben meant—for either of them. Already stressed about final exams before the holidays and his difficult family situation, Jeremy doesn’t know how to deal with the conflicting feelings he’s having. And the one person he’s always been able to talk to about everything, and who’s always been there for him, is the very person he’s been avoiding for the past week because he doesn’t know how to face him after waking up in his bed. Afraid he might have already screwed up his and Ben’s friendship beyond repair, Jeremy is haunted even more by the backlash he could face if he admits to Ben, or even to himself, how much the night they spent together really meant to him. And how much he still wants Ben even now…

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