Cast Off (4 page)

“I don’t know what went wrong last night, but I hate how we left things. I’m sorry.”

Manfully, Rick refrained from rolling his eyes. Simply stupid it must be, since Rick had been clear what had gone wrong. But it was a nice gesture.

“Thanks, Oscar.” Rick reached out a hand for the flowers, not entirely sure he enjoyed being placated with a bunch of flowers like he was a damned girl, but he couldn’t deny the flowers were beautiful.

In an unexpected move, Oscar moved the bouquet to the side and leaned in for a kiss. Rick ducked, but nearly fell backward off his porch steps and irritation bloomed into full-blown anger.

“What the hell, Oscar? We’re done. No more nothing. No moving in. No fucking. No phone calls. Over. Understand?”

Oscar’s face got a pinched look to it. “I said I was sorry. We don’t have to move in together. We can just go back to the way things were. Please.”

Just as suddenly as it appeared, Rick’s anger fled, leaving only sadness in its wake. “Oscar, I’m sorry. But I can’t see you anymore. I told you I don’t do relationships, and if you’ve started to care for me in that way, there’s no way we can go back to the way we were before. It’s not fair to either of us.”

“Please, Rick. Give me another chance. We’ll do this however you want.”

“No second chances. And I’ve told you what I want.”

Oscar frowned. “Are those the same clothes you had on yesterday? Are you seeing someone else?”

Despite the unwarranted anger that unexpectedly radiated from Oscar, Rick snorted. No one in their right mind would call what he did with Ian last night “seeing.” But there was no denying he’d enjoyed himself and even the faint twinge in his backside was enough to make him smile, however conflicted he’d been about breaking his rules.

“That’s none of your business.” Just thinking about last night’s fantastic sex had been enough to soften the edge in his voice, and Oscar’s frown morphed into a black scowl. No, thinking about Ian wasn’t going to do him any favors. “I think you should go now. Get some sleep.”

Huh. He hadn’t considered Oscar might have decided on this grand plan while under the influence. For all Rick knew, the guy could still be drunk.

“Did you drive here?” Not that Rick was in a position to offer a lift home. “I could call you a cab.”

Oscar snarled and threw the flowers at Rick. “Fuck you.”

Without another word, Oscar practically ran to his car, got in, and peeled away.

Rick grimaced. That hadn’t gone well, although Oscar seemed to get this message this time. He placed the flowers next to the door, ready to add to his composting, but later. Now, he had a date with his broken basement window and a shower. In that fucking order. If it weren’t for the fact he needed to get both his keys and car back, he’d be tempted to turn off his phone and hole up with a book or three for the rest of the weekend. He needed some time to consider if Ian would be a suitable fuck buddy or if Ian unsettled him too much, but he sure as shit didn’t need to make a decision right away.

S
UNLIGHT
streamed against Ian’s face, illuminating the insides of his eyelids to translucent red instead of the normal pitch black he preferred at this time of the morning. He twisted away from the heated brilliance and cracked a lid, trying to focus on the alarm clock.

God. He couldn’t even see the damned thing due to the nuclear glare pouring in through his windows. How had he possibly forgotten to close his blackout curtains last night? The streetlights outside made it intolerably bright for sleeping and the morning sun was—as he remembered—obnoxious.

Oh, yes. Sex. Awesome sex. He’d been far more intent on getting into that gorgeous, lithe male body than he’d been on shutting his drapes. At least there wasn’t an easy way to peer into his bedroom windows, or someone would have gotten a free show. But there was no mistaking that Ian was alone in bed now. He sat up, peering about for the man who should have still been in bed with him. Squinting at the clock, he groaned. There was no good reason to be up at six on a Sunday morning.

Not a sign remained of Ian’s one-night stand aside from the crinkled condom half hanging over the edge of the wastebasket like a sloughed-off snakeskin.

Wide awake now, with eyes adjusted to the light, Ian flopped back into his pillows. A faint musky scent hit his nose as he disturbed the bedding, reminding both him and his morning wood of an exceptional night. With athletic activities he would have gladly repeated this morning if only he hadn’t woken alone.

He stretched and snuggled back down into the bed. He had nowhere to be until early afternoon. Maybe he could sleep off his disappointment.

Unfortunately, the reminder of the momentous task yet to come at his parents’ place later drove away the remnants of sleep. The trepidation was probably unnecessary, but he was drawing unwelcome parallels between the red-shirted dude who accompanied Captain Kirk, or the poor bastard who fought the Minotaur before Theseus tried his hand. The ones who tried and failed and got eaten by monsters for their trouble. No matter how much he reminded himself that his imagination was working overtime, he was getting more and more nervous.

He needed backup, like never before. Ian had always been closest to the brothers that bracketed him in age, Kurt and Dylan. The three of them had been almost inseparable throughout school, and their tight bond hadn’t lessened. Except Ian had sold them both short by not trusting them. Dylan deserved to know when their parents found out, and if anyone was going to provide him the moral support he needed, it was his two brothers.

Rolling over, he swiped his phone from the bedside table. He thumbed through his contacts, hoping that maybe Rick had added his phone number, but no such luck. Well, it was a simple matter to rectify that if Ian felt it necessary.

With a sigh, he called Dylan.

“Oh, ho, so your hands aren’t broken.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Are you taking guilt trip lessons from Mom?”

“Someone ought to guilt trip you.” Dylan’s voice was only a little pissed off, and Ian didn’t blame him a bit. Even though his brother was all caught up in preparing for his wedding, he’d still made the effort to call Ian, but Ian had either avoided the calls or ditched him as soon as he could. And Ian had almost never taken the initiative to call anyone since Kurt’s mind-blowing announcement.

“Look, I’m… sorry. I can explain, but… can you come to dinner at Mom and Dad’s tonight?”

“Are you actually going to be there?”

Once again, Ian couldn’t blame Dylan for the skepticism in his voice.

“Yes, I promise, Dyl.” Ian didn’t know what to say to convince Dylan it was important that he show up, without scaring the shit out of his brother or just blurting out his secret. The next time he came out, though, he wanted to do it without just blurting it out. Calm, careful, prepared.

Somehow, though, Dylan could tell. “I’ll be there. It’ll be good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Ian’s eyes burned and, with his recent practice, he expertly extricated himself from the phone call before he started crying, of all damned things.

He’d thought about calling Kurt too, but clearly his emotional state was a little precarious at the moment. Instead, he fired off a text asking Kurt to show up for dinner as well, then relaxed back into his pillows, a fraction of his tension bleeding off now that he’d taken those few baby steps forward.

Shifting, he caught another whiff of Rick’s scent. Smiling up at the ceiling, he scratched at his belly. Meeting the sexy blond had been an unexpected but welcome surprise. Last night had been momentous, and not just because of the spectacular sex. He’d never once brought a guy back to his condo. After spending his entire adulthood in the shadows, he’d looked forward to having a man in his bed, and the fiery, flamboyant blond had been eager to ditch the house painting to follow him home.

Having sex in his bed with the slender, supple Rick had been utterly inspiring. Ian stretched again. He’d well used several muscles that didn’t get nearly enough of a workout. Although no stranger to one-night stands, he’d also never let himself explore a man’s body in daylight. Starting with Rick this morning would have been an excellent beginning to his newfound freedom.

Letting his hand drift toward his groin, Ian let those fantasies fill up his mind. He had a few hours left before he needed to see his family and tell them the truth. Rick was missing out on another spectacular orgasm, but it was his own damn fault for sneaking out like a thief in the night.

Bastard. Ian was missing out too. Rick fucked like a dream, and Ian would be searching a long time to find someone who could measure up.

“
I
AN
! It’s about time you made it to Sunday dinner.”

Ian rolled his eyes at his older sister. “Whatever, Caitlyn. It’s not like you’re here every week either.”

Deirdre and Sean O’Donnell had emigrated from Ireland and opened a family-style pub called Finn’s Frolic in the heart of downtown Toronto. All the kids had learned the value of hard work doing chores at Finn’s, and still helped out on occasion, although it had never been necessary to keep the business afloat; Deirdre and Sean had made their pub successful early on. It had quickly become a tradition for his parents to ensure hired staff covered Sundays at the pub so that Deirdre could host her large brood—which grew larger every year—for a family meal. It was rare for everyone to show up. Now that most of his siblings had kids and in-laws, the entire family was only ever together at the O’Donnell birthday parties. Not even Christmas was as sacrosanct for his mom and dad. If you were going to miss a birthday celebration, you’d better be half-dead.

“And just how would you know that?” Caitlyn flicked him across the back of the head with a dish towel. “Been weeks since we’ve seen you.”

For the most part, he and his siblings appeared as often as possible, barring the occasional hangover. Not many families with seven kids could boast about how well everyone got along, but they did. Scuffles, arguments, and shouting were common, but underneath it all, they loved each other and no one was ever lonely.

On the other hand, no one was ever alone, either. Someone always knew where you were or what you were doing, even if you wished they didn’t. Which had been part and parcel of his need for secrecy. Even after he moved out, he’d lived in fear of any of his family seeing him with a man. Ian had never dated. Never met a man for drinks or a movie. Not romantically or with the expectation of sex, at any rate. There were clubs all over the city where he could go to get off and he did so, almost as often as he told his family he was out scouting for women.

The paranoia had become an all-consuming guiding force in his life, and as much as he looked forward to getting rid of it, he felt an inexplicable sadness. His life was changing—hopefully for the better—but guilt and fear had been his constant companions for almost two decades and he thought he might miss them. For a few minutes, at any rate.

Ian set the table, amazed to see his fingers tremble. This shouldn’t be so scary. Kurt had done it—gone and blurted it out like it was nothing. His family hadn’t cared. Ian had been the only one to care, and that had been selfishness more than anything. Jealousy that Kurt had found the courage—and the acceptance Ian craved—that Ian had been afraid to look for. Now that he was going to tell the rest of the family, he was afraid. More afraid than he’d ever been. Soul-deep, bone-shaking, stomach-swirling fear filled him.

“So what are you doing here?” Caitlyn waddled into the dining room behind him, her round beach ball of a stomach leading the way, a basket of rolls in her hand.

“Well, it’s almost dinnertime and it’s Sunday, so obviously I’m here to get Dad’s fantasy football picks. What the he… heck do you think I’m doing here?” Ian couldn’t hear the shrieks of any of Caitlyn’s or his other siblings’ kids, but his mom would kill him if he cursed in their presence.

“Dunno. Just haven’t seen you in weeks.” Caitlyn put the rolls down on the table.

Ian frowned and peered around Caitlyn, looking for her twin, Colleen. He hadn’t heard anyone else arrive, but it was a rare day that only one of the twins showed up to a family function.

Before Caitlyn and Colleen had gotten married, the twins were inseparable. After they got married, they still did a lot together, but their husbands took up any gaps. The twins, more than any of the O’Donnells, didn’t like to be alone.

Then he shook off his concern. He had other things to think about. Like when would be the best time to break his news. Right before dinner? During dessert? The meals really weren’t that formal, but if nothing else his siblings, their spouses, and his parents would dine at the table, with the kids in the kitchen.

“So?”

“So nothing. Just that Mom hates it when you’re a sulky little bitch.”

“I am not a sulky bitch.” Why had Caitlyn chosen those specific words? What did she know?

“Are too.”

“Am not.” Ian bit the inside of his cheek. Hormones. Had to be hormones. Or simply a sister being a pain in the ass, like they were genetically programmed to be. Getting drawn into one of these pointless squabbles would keep his mind off his upcoming confession, but he wasn’t six anymore, and he tried, most days, to act accordingly.

“Whatever.” Caitlyn shook her head. “Why did you put the leaves in the table? It’s way too big. You’re going to have to do this again.”

Irritation gripped him, and he almost yelled at his very pregnant sister. Who hadn’t been sleeping well, judging by the dark circles under her eyes. “I thought everyone was going to be here.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Where is your brain, idiot? Can’t you count?”

Ian gulped and the butterflies in his stomach evolved into pterodactyls. With claws. For some reason, he’d assumed it would be easier if the whole brood were here. He’d only have to do this once and maybe no one would make a scene in front of the kids. Of which, he couldn’t hear one. This small, intimate family gathering meant there should be ample opportunity to bring it into the conversation, and now that he was so close to doing it, he wanted to puke. But he couldn’t wait any longer. Not only was this secret choking the life out of him, Kurt already knew, and Ian hadn’t asked him to keep silent.