Between These Walls (16 page)

“Do you spend a lot of time alone?” Hunter asked.

“Let’s say I have plenty of time on my hands. But I’m okay with it, so it works out fine.”

Hunter didn’t like hearing that. A chunk of his heart sank, like a link had gone missing from a chain that connects a boat to its anchor. Without that link, the boat would drift into isolation.

Gabe had an air about him that Hunter considered a blessing. How could Gabe’s depth end up going to waste? Did people stay away from Gabe, or did he choose solitude? Hunter didn’t find much comfort in solitude, but he knew people are different and had come across a wide range of personalities in his career, brief as it was. He couldn’t imagine people keeping their distance from Gabe. If anything, Hunter himself wanted to spend
more
time around him, not less.

Then an idea dawned inside him. He didn’t know how Gabe would respond, but it was worth a try.

“Just a thought,” Hunter said, “but would you want to hang out some time? I mean, we’re different, but we get along, right? The talks and all.”

Gabe’s countenance brightened. Hunter could tell that, even though Gabe guarded himself against looking too eager, Hunter’s invitation had made his day. Hunter felt his own heart warm.

Gabe regarded Hunter for a beat. “Sure,” he said, “let’s do it.”

“Would tomorrow night work? We could catch a game on TV at my house. No social-butterfly stuff to worry about.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The more Hunter thought about the idea, the more he looked forward to it.

The massage continued. When Gabe reached Hunter’s lower back, he incorporated his elbows, which he had not used in prior appointments. “I switched my technique here. How’s it helping? Better?”

“I think so.”

A minute passed in silence. Hunter felt a nerve snap and felt a release of tension as he exhaled.

“I think I
heard
that one,” Hunter snickered.

“Yeah, I heard it too. I found a knot down here. I’ll bet you feel better after that.”

Hunter reconsidered Gabe’s words about solitude and, once again, grew curious about Ellen’s remarks and Gabe’s past relationships. Maybe he could find a way—discreetly—to tiptoe around the topic, see what happens.

Hunter tried to convince himself he didn’t care either way, but it didn’t stop the nervous quiver in the pit of his belly. Gabe was a Christian. Chances were, he was straight. Then again, people would say the same thing about Hunter—yet Hunter and God knew the shades of gray that colored the truth. Maybe Gabe wrestled with the same secret undercurrent as Hunter. At least, Hunter hoped he did—a wish Hunter took back instantly. As a Christian, he felt convicted, wishing such hardship on anyone else. Hunter just yearned for someone who could understand. The whole misery-loves-company side of human nature.

No, Hunter thought. Gabe was, in all likelihood, straight. How could Hunter navigate around the question without ruining their new friendship and rendering himself unwelcome for a professional appointment? He wouldn’t be able to look Gabe in the eye if he bungled this.

Yes, despite his reservations, he really did want to know. He just needed a Plan B to provide coverage in case Gabe grew suspicious.

If he asks, tell him you have some female friends and thought one of them might make a good match.

Perfect!

Hunter shut his eyes well in advance of asking. That way, Gabe wouldn’t be able to read them. If Hunter made any fast or unusual eye movements, they wouldn’t be noticeable. That relieved some of the pressure.

Because Hunter knew his true motive in asking, the quivers accelerated in his belly, but he fought to keep his voice steady.

Relax,
Hunter told himself, taking a deep breath to usher in calm. He knew from past experience that if he allowed tension to reach his muscles, Gabe would detect the change.

Hunter entered the conversation through a side door. “Most of your clients are female, right?”

“The majority are. You’re not getting concerned about
that
all over again, are you?”

“No, not at all. I was curious what your girlfriend thinks of you massaging other females. I know
you
realize it’s a professional matter, but you know how girlfriends can get sometimes.”

“The good news is, I don’t need to worry about that. No girlfriend in the picture.”

That intrigued Hunter. If his heart were connected to an EKG monitor, he could imagine the sudden, rapid spikes that would appear as his heart beat faster.

“Well, how about in the past?” Hunter said. “You’ve been doing this for several years.”

Hunter felt Gabe’s fingers slow down, then recover their normal speed, as if he had caught Gabe off guard but Gabe didn’t want him to notice a change had occurred.

“Relationships don’t seem to work out for me,” said Gabe, “so I guess I lost heart. I gave up on dating back in college. Well, ‘gave up’ isn’t accurate. I didn’t make a decision. Things worked out the way they did, and I made peace with it.”

Hunter could tell Gabe was an honest person. And after the openness of their conversations, he should have expected Gabe to give the candid answer he did. Yet he hadn’t anticipated its transparency. It drew him toward Gabe’s heart. Hunter wanted to listen. Opening his eyes, he turned his head toward Gabe.

“There’s been nobody since college?” Hunter asked. “Not even one date?”

“I guess my heart never hooked up with it.” Gabe looked Hunter in the eye for what seemed a moment too long, then continued working. “Besides, I don’t think many women would be interested in a guy like me.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” Gabe shrugged, “but it’s no loss, I suppose.”

“It’s
their
loss. You seem to have a great heart. You’re a good listener.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think that puts me in a special club. Lots of people listen well.”

Hunter didn’t seem to have gotten through with what he’d meant to say, so he decided to try again. Perhaps it was the competitor in him, but for some reason, he wanted Gabe to know what he’d meant and how rare it was to find Gabe’s qualities in other people.

“I didn’t say it the right way,” Hunter said. “It’s hard to explain. You have a transparency about you. It’s not so much something you do, but something you
are.
You have everything I’ve ever wished
I
could find in a relationship.”

Hunter winced. He hadn’t intended to make himself vulnerable and certainly hadn’t planned to say
that.
Granted, he’d felt it in his heart, even if he hadn’t found the words to describe it. Maybe it crept forth from his subconscious. Whatever the reason, he’d gotten too comfortable as they’d talked. Normally Hunter said too little. Now, the one time he made his best effort to open up, he’d said too much. But maybe it wasn’t as bad as Hunter figured; after all, Gabe didn’t know what had gone through Hunter’s mind these past weeks. Holding his expression steady, trying to appear as if he’d meant nothing by his words, Hunter looked back at Gabe.

Sure enough, Gabe had noticed. Hunter could tell by the momentary, stunned look in his eyes, the way they flicked back and forth before Gabe refocused his attention on Hunter’s back.

Did Hunter catch the slightest twitch of a grin at the corner of Gabe’s mouth? He wasn’t sure. Hunter clenched his jaw at his unanswered questions. How could he have said something so stupid?

“I just realized how that sounded,” Hunter said, stumbling his way to a recovery. “What I meant was—”

“No worries. I understand what you meant by it. I appreciate the compliment, though.”

Gabe nodded as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but Hunter detected new fervor—broader, deeper sweeps—from Gabe’s thumbs. Gabe gave no signs of anger. For that matter, he didn’t look offended at all.

As Hunter continued to gauge Gabe’s reaction from the corner of his eye, Gabe peered in contemplation at Hunter’s face once more. And to Hunter’s surprise, Gabe’s eyes lingered a second or two as he resumed his work.

Something had changed. Hunter could sense it hanging in the air, two feet between Gabe’s face and his own.

Hunter’s mind churned as he reflected on their past appointments and pieced together arbitrary details: The way Gabe’s eyes had flicked back for a second glance the moment they’d met. The sense of disappointment that lingered when their appointments ended, and the way Gabe seemed to prolong them rather than simply end them.

Call it instinct, a sixth sense. It wasn’t the actions themselves, but the sensations Hunter picked up in those moments. He didn’t have tangible evidence, yet he no longer doubted.

The familiar nervousness, that bittersweet pang, returned to his gut.

Hunter wasn’t the only one with something to hide.

Gabe felt something for him, too.

CHAPTER 12

That night, conflict roiled within Hunter’s soul.

Earlier that day, he had left his appointment exhilarated. After all these years, Hunter was no longer alone. And not only had he found someone else in the same predicament, but that individual felt drawn to him, too. Hunter felt overwhelmed by the thrill of discovering another person, someone he found appealing, had responded with mutual, albeit unspoken, interest. He felt poised for a new adventure.

But as the hours progressed, Hunter considered the scenario further and shame arose in his heart. Soon Hunter felt he had entered a room he had no business entering.

Forbidden fruit.

Back and forth, Hunter veered between two extremes—thrill and remorse—for the rest of the evening. At its root, Hunter recognized it as the same inner conflict that had wrenched his soul since he was younger. And as excited as he felt tonight, Hunter viewed it as selfish. He couldn’t shake the sense that he’d made God unhappy.

Hunter could hide from people, but he couldn’t hide from God.

Shortly before bedtime, Hunter reclined on his side upon his bed, his Bible open before him. As was his custom this time each night, he quieted himself and allowed his heart to connect to God’s. Hunter would read the Bible, then ponder what he’d read and let God minister to his heart. Whatever restlessness Hunter experienced during his days, these final minutes before bedtime brought refuge. Hunter considered God not only
God,
but also his closest friend, and their friendship grew stronger during these final minutes of the night. Some nights, Hunter could sense God speaking to his heart. Other nights, his personal study felt like mere reading. But Hunter dedicated himself to reading the Bible regardless.

Tonight, Hunter focused on the sixth chapter of 1 Corinthians. In the twelfth verse, he read,
“All things are lawful for me, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful for me, but I will not be mastered by anything.”

Hunter paused.
All things are lawful.

He considered those words in light of his current predicament. If all things were lawful, did he need to worry about his feelings for Gabe?

Then he considered the rest of the verse.
Not all things are profitable.

Hunter’s parents had raised him to believe that romantic attraction toward the same gender was inappropriate. His friends, pastors and role models, from churches to Youth Vision meetings to leisure activities, had reinforced that view over the years.

I will not be mastered by anything.

The fact was, Hunter did believe his attractions displeased God. So shouldn’t he resist those attractions rather than give in to the power they seemed to hold over him?

That’s what made the battle so confusing. That’s what wore him down. He hadn’t asked for this fight. He didn’t
want
to be attracted to Gabe or any other guy in the first place. If God didn’t want him to give in to the temptation—if neither God nor Hunter wanted it—why didn’t God remove it from his life? Wouldn’t that be the easiest route?

Hunter didn’t have answers. Not for this.

So he continued to read. Soon he came across verse 19:
“Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own?”

Hunter sighed. Not only did verses like that remind him he couldn’t escape by ignoring his circumstances, they also caused him concern. He wanted to please God. He wanted God’s will, not his own, to come to pass in his life.

With blurred vision, Hunter set aside his Bible and wiped away a film of tears from his eyes.

He needed God. Sometimes he simply wanted to draw near to Him.

Climbing off of the bed, Hunter planted his feet on the ground and stood still. With a hefty breath, he filled his lungs with oxygen, then exhaled. He closed his eyes and tilted his head toward heaven. Palms outward, Hunter lifted his hands to God and allowed a sense of God’s presence to fill him.

His lips trembled. His voice shook. Although he felt defeated and weak, Hunter spoke aloud to God, his volume just above a whisper.

“Please heal me.”

More tears sprang forth. He started to wipe them away, but they trickled in such abundance, he gave up and let them flow.

“I don’t want this. I’m begging You,” he said, “please heal me of this.”

How often have I prayed that prayer?
wondered Hunter. So many times over so many years, he had lost count.

“God, You know I love You.”

Though he didn’t hear audible answers when he prayed, he knew in his heart God heard him. If nothing else, Hunter kept the communication lines open between them. He could lay his heart on the line, expressing his feelings in the simplest way he knew. When he felt broken, Hunter ran to God.

Hunter grew quiet, then sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned against his bed, spending time in God’s presence. He could tell God was there, so Hunter talked to Him like he would talk to a friend. Simple prayers in passing when fleeting desires flared up or when shame felt so murky and thick, he couldn’t withstand it any longer. Moments when passion burned in him at night as he lay in bed. Moments of close calls where he had almost gotten caught.