Cast Off (19 page)

They sat like that for several minutes, just touching. They sat there so long Rick wondered if Ian had fallen asleep, and he shifted to look up at him.

“I don’t know where best to begin,” Ian said, as though sensing Rick’s question. “Leon’s a friend. Nothing more, I promise. In fact, I haven’t even slept with anyone else since I met you. I haven’t wanted to.”

There was no mistaking Ian’s overwhelming sincerity.

“Me, neither.” It wasn’t stupid if they’d both denied themselves, right? The extra squeeze Ian gave him was assurance enough that he’d said the right thing for a change.

“I think there was more to tonight than Leon. I know my family makes you uncomfortable, but I don’t know why. I know you’re against relationships, but I don’t know why. I think you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you, but something’s holding you back. I’m hoping you’ll trust me enough to tell me what’s going on. If I know what the problem is, we’ve got a better chance of working it out together.”

“Are you sure you’re not a psychologist instead of an account manager?”

“That’s
senior
account manager.” Ian grinned at him and dropped a kiss on his temple. “And while there is certainly some psychology involved in keeping everyone happy and willing to accept compromise, I rather think it’s nothing more than having picked up a few pointers from my sister here and there. Occasionally I do listen to them.”

Ian’s expression grew serious. “But you’re stalling. Do you not trust me? No matter what else, we’re still friends. Please tell me what you’re so afraid of.”

Rick’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to tell Ian. He’d never told anyone the whole story, not ever. Jon knew some of it, but when he’d met Jon, they’d both been so raw from their experiences, they’d bonded over that without ever getting the full details from each other.

“I’m afraid of me,” he whispered. The confused tenderness in Ian’s eyes gave him some courage, but he couldn’t talk about it and worry about Ian’s reaction to every word, so he tucked himself against Ian, facing the darkened television.

“My parents had a very volatile marriage. I realize now my mother must have been manifesting early symptoms of mental illness. Bipolar, maybe. They kept having affairs, then fighting with each other about them, then they’d get back together and things would be calm for a while before the whole cycle started again. I wasn’t much more than an afterthought. An accident. They were too involved in their own drama to worry too much about the effect it had on me. But it wasn’t so bad. Not until I was… fourteen. I already knew I was gay, and I didn’t have much success hiding it at school. I got harassed a bit, not bashed, thankfully, but there wasn’t anywhere… calm and safe. My parents weren’t thrilled by my orientation, but they were so wrapped up in each other, they didn’t much care one way or the other.

“One day, just a few days before the end of the school year, my dad came home and told my mother he was leaving. This time, the affair meant something, and he wasn’t willing to give her up for the chaotic life he’d been living with my mother. She wasn’t able to accept that, and she grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed him seven times.”

Ian gasped and held him closer. Until that moment, Rick had been expecting rejection. Disgust, maybe. It could still come—he wasn’t finished yet—but he was thankful for Ian’s presence.

The tips of Rick’s fingers got cold and numb as he tried desperately not to remember the blood. His father’s sightless eyes. He rubbed his hands against his thighs, hoping the friction would help.

Ian grabbed Rick’s hands with his own free one. Compared to Rick’s bloodless hands, Ian’s hands were as fiery hot against his skin as the sun.

“Who… I mean… how….”

Rick knew what Ian wanted to know. “A neighbor heard the screaming and called the police. I got home from school to find my house surrounded by police cars and fire trucks and an ambulance. I got there just as they were taking my father out on a gurney. At first I’d thought maybe he’d had a heart attack or something. Until I got inside and saw all the blood.”

He grabbed for his glass of water and took a sip. Even after all this time, the memory made him nauseous. He cleared his throat. No reason to talk about the ordeal of the trial and his lost year at school.

“My mother was eventually declared unfit to stand trial and was committed.”

“And you were fourteen? What happened to you?”

Rick shrugged. “By that time I was fifteen. My only relative was my father’s sister. She did her Christian duty and took me in, but she hated my mother for killing her brother. And she hated me for being my mother’s son. I was allowed visits with my mother, which my aunt took me to, but my mother only wanted to know why my father wasn’t coming to visit.”

“You mean she didn’t know she’d killed him? How is that possible?”

“I guess she blocked it. None of the doctors would tell me anything, and after she killed herself, I wasn’t able to speak to find out the whys and wherefores.”

“I’m so sorry, Rick. Wait… you weren’t able to speak? You mean your aunt wouldn’t let you ask?”

“No, I mean, I couldn’t speak. The trauma, I guess. If it weren’t for the counselor at school who was training to be a speech-language pathologist, I might never have shaken it.”

His aunt had been just as happy he hadn’t been able to ask questions or complain.

“So that’s why you chose your profession?”

“Yeah. It probably wasn’t entirely ethical for her to treat me while she was in training, but however much my aunt pretended, she didn’t care enough to get me help or spend the money, and I was too frustrated and embarrassed to find help on my own. My friends all drifted away during the trial, and I had no one besides Miss Abernathy. And I was lucky for her help because as soon as I graduated high school, my aunt decided she’d done her duty by her gay nephew and tossed me out. Talking was a necessity to get a job. I moved to Toronto and started a brand-new life.”

Probably it wasn’t necessary to tell him that he still had occasional bouts of silence, usually triggered by women like Ian’s mom, who tried to mother him.

“Needless to say, I haven’t had the best role models for relationships nor do I have a lot of respect for families.” Which was a nice, politic way of saying they scared the shit out of him.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I had no idea.”

Rick waited, expecting Ian to leave. God knows, he would. There was no way Ian had been expecting Rick to have such immense, boundless luggage. Any minute now, he’d realize he’d bitten off more than he was willing to chew and would leave. Even if he didn’t, there was still one final nail to go in their relationship coffin. Until Ian took that final step to leave, he’d enjoy the comfort of Ian’s arms. His fuck buddies weren’t much into cuddling. Except for Oscar and that had always felt more like smothering than cuddling.

They sat in silence again, Rick’s ear pressed against Ian’s chest, listening to the steady, soothing thump of his heartbeat.

Ian shifted and Rick curled up on himself, prepared for yet another rejection as Ian left. It shocked him a little to find himself seated between Ian’s legs, his back propped up against Ian’s chest as Ian leaned back against the high armrest of his sofa.

Ian’s warm hands rubbed down his arms, and for a moment, Rick expected Ian to make a move. Pleased beyond measure to find out he was wrong, he settled back against Ian, who wrapped his arms around Rick’s chest.

“I am so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know if I would have survived, but you not only survived, you…. You’re so strong. Funny, sweet, successful… I never would have guessed.”

Strong? Successful? Ian had to be talking about someone else.

“Thank you for telling me. I definitely understand you better now and while it might take me some time to fully assimilate everything, there was one thing you said that confused me. You said you were afraid of
you
. What did that mean?”

Eyes burning, he blinked away the tears even as his limbs began to tremble. He’d set up his rules to avoid ever having to deal with this situation or even think about it, but he’d already given Ian so much, he might as well finish it. He couldn’t have Ian hanging around under false pretenses anyway. That wasn’t fair to either of them, not if Ian was after more than Rick could give.

“I’m my mother’s son. What if I do the same thing? Mental illness can be hereditary. What if my jealousy tips over into a murderous rage? I can’t take that chance.”

Rick sat up. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t jeopardize Ian like this. Not even if it meant his own happiness needed to be sacrificed.

“You should go now. We should make a clean break.”

Standing, he stepped aside, facing away from the sofa, and wrapped his arms around himself. They weren’t even a poor substitute for the strength of Ian’s arms, but Ian’s arms would be leaving and not coming back.

“No.”

Rick turned around. “What do you mean, no?”

“Okay, I understand why you’re afraid. But I’m not afraid. Not of you. I haven’t seen anything that would lead me to believe you’re dangerous. And I don’t want to go. I think you’re it for me. And I don’t think being unfaithful will be an issue. I’ve fucked lots of other guys and not one has ever meant anything to me. I don’t want to go back to that. I want to build a life with someone. Someone who gets me, someone who I enjoy spending time with, someone who makes me so damned horny I could come just from kissing him. I want that someone to be you, and I think maybe you want that too, which is why you told me all this. You trust me with your past, and I trust you not to hurt me. This will work, Rick. Please give us a chance.”

This had to be a dream. No way would a guy like Ian sign up for this. “Are you sure? I can’t… I’m not sure I trust myself. You’d be betting your life on the outcome.”

Ian stepped close, and Rick fell into his arms like he’d always belonged there.

“I
am
willing to bet my life and as far as I’m concerned, it’s a good bet. The best. But if you’re worried, go talk to someone. There’s no shame in getting help. Even if you’ve got the same condition your mother had—which I doubt—I’m sure there are medications available, and better ones than were available twenty years ago. We can get through this.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

Ian leaned back to stare into Rick’s eyes. “Okay? Okay, what?”

He wanted this more than anything in his life and if it didn’t work out, he didn’t know what he’d do. “Okay, let’s give this a chance.”

Ian’s smile was a beautiful sight, and it gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, this might all work out.

“You won’t regret this.”

But his fears weren’t put to rest that easily. “Can we… can we not tell anyone? I’ve had such a hard stance against relationships, I don’t want to have to explain about this unless I’m sure—we’re sure—that this is working out.”

“Anything you want, baby. We can keep this under our hats for a while. But you have to promise me you’ll come to a family event as my date. It doesn’t have to be right away, but I want my family to know how I feel about you.”

“Okay. Yes, I can work on that.” He didn’t even feel the need to snark about being called
baby
. Normally he hated it, but for some reason, he didn’t mind when Ian said it.

“And we’re exclusive. It’s just us.”

Rick tilted his head. “I want that. I do. But what do either of us know about being faithful?”

“Has it been hard, not sleeping with other guys?”

He thought about that. “No, actually.”

“Me neither.”

“But how can we guarantee it will continue like that?” Probably his parents had assumed some degree of fidelity when they’d first gotten together, and that had gone completely down the shitter.

Ian shrugged. “We can’t. All we can do is try.” He paused for a moment. “How about this? If it gets too hard, we make sure we talk about it. I can promise that. We’ll talk before it gets to the point of cheating.”

Yeah, yeah, he could promise that. “That sounds good.”

Feelings, promises, relationships, and broken rules. Rick should have been scared shitless. Instead, he just wanted to devour Ian.

“Now, my sweet boyfriend….”

A delicious shiver danced up his spine at Ian’s words, his cock filling and pressing against his fly. He was someone’s boyfriend. At thirty-five, he was a little old to feel as giddy as a teenager, but he couldn’t quell his excitement.

“Yes?”

Ian pinched at his nipples, which had peaked when his cock hardened. “I think I need to express how very much I love this shirt on you. Where’s your bedroom?”

A slight frown marred the moment. “Unless… is that too fast? Did you want to wait?”

If it was possible, he just got hornier. “No fucking way.”

Ian’s smile returned and he pulled Rick close, pressing their lips together.

Rick moaned and opened his lips under Ian’s questing tongue. He’d never known what he’d been missing by not kissing guys—but then, maybe it was only Ian’s lips that could make him feel this way.

He brought his hands up and held them against Ian’s cheeks. The sensation of movement under his palms was surprisingly erotic, like the movement when a guy was sucking him off. But this was better. Sweeter and hotter and more delicious all at once. The faint trace of Ian’s stubble rasped against his fingers, and he wanted to feel that against his belly, against the head of his cock, and against his face while Ian drove inside him.

But telling Ian where the bedroom was would mean losing the drugging pleasure of his kisses. Instead, he urged Ian backward, heading for the bed by guiding him with his body.

I
AN
had to be dreaming. Rick had agreed to give them a chance. Sure, he wanted to keep it quiet, but after all he’d been through, Ian couldn’t blame him for that.

Now, Rick was kissing him like he never wanted to stop. Ian wasn’t sure he wanted to stop either, but damn, he wanted another chance to explore Rick’s naked body. He’d not fully appreciated what he’d had those first two times and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.