Crash: M/M Straight to Gay First Time Romance (6 page)

Reid

              “I don’t like it,” Darlene says, hopping up on my counter and sticking a celery stalk in her mouth.

”You don’t like what exactly?”

“Him. He seems creepy and mean for no reason,” Darlene argues.

“You can’t dislike a guy because he
seems
creepy. And he is a little mean, but I can handle it,” I explain, washing the vegetables before pulling out my cutting board.

“Are you cooking?”

“I don’t think making a salad counts as cooking.”

“And I don’t think being a good Samaritan makes you a whipping boy for a spoiled stranger,” Darlene fired back at me.

“I am nobody’s whipping boy. Trust me; I can handle this,” I assure her.

She simply rolls her eyes and slides down from her perch.

“Are you eating with us?” I ask, fully expecting her to say yes. To my surprise she shakes her head. “Where is Buster? Has he crossed over to the dark side as well?”

“The dark side?”

“I bet that stupid mutt thinks Liam is a great guy too,” she says, her face scrunched up into a comical frown.

“He does indeed. They spent all day together and, other than needing a long walk, it seems like they are both in good shape.”

“Who needs a walk, the mutt or the bitch in the wheelchair?”

I toss the lettuce in my hand at her.

“Shh, he can hear you,” I whisper, stifling my chuckle.

“Good,” she whispers back, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Nobody would ever guess that you are the older sibling by the way you act.”

“I’m just lucky I guess,” she says, straightening out her clothes and retrieving Buster’s leash. “I’ll let Buster stretch his legs for a minute while you finish dinner and then I’m out!”

The door bangs as she escapes, Buster pulling her along the pavement. I keep my hands busy preparing the chicken as Liam’s voice rumbles in the background. It’s none of my business, but I can’t help myself from trying to make out the words he is saying. He sounds agitated, his voice high and strained as he laughs at whatever the other person is saying. It’s a laugh designed to mock the person hearing it and protect the person delivering it.

My feet move in the direction of that horrible sound, and I stand outside the door, leaning in so that I can make out the words better.

“Don’t tell me you are disappointed?”

“…”

“I will be there, don’t worry.”

“…”

“Don’t worry; your spies are doing their job. There just isn’t anything to report.”

“…”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I have paid enough people to pretend they care about me without being forced to endure your acting skills as well.”

“…”

“Have a good evening,” he says, sounding tired.

I wait for a few moments outside the door before knocking gently.

“What?”

I ignore his tone and open the door. “Are you hungry?”

“Does it matter? I need my meds, and I have to eat something before I can take them, so just fix me a plate,” he says. The muscle in his jaw jumps slightly as he grits his teeth and his nostrils flare, but his eyes look sad. I see that look on a lot of the older boys at my center. It seems like anger, but it’s really hurt and sadness.

“It matters to me,” I say. He looks away and shrugs. I resist the urge to hug him and walk out. It was obvious that whoever he was talking to was family. Only your family can make you that upset with just a few words. I’m not sure why he said he didn’t have any family, but it’s clear they aren’t close.

Darlene comes back, dragging Buster behind her, as I am plating our dinner. “This dog is a menace,” she declares, removing the leash and hanging it on the hook on the wall.

“Then you two are a perfect match,” I say.

“Funny. That smells fantastic. Pack me a to-go plate?”

I hand her a plastic container with a full serving of chicken and salad already packed for her.

“Lemon pepper,” I say to her unasked question.

“You are the best,” she says, kissing my cheek.

“Hey, Dee. How about you give him a break, okay? I think he has some pretty heavy stuff going on,” I say, indicating the back bedroom with my head.

“Why?” she says quietly, leaning in as if I am telling her a secret.

“Just trust me on this one. He isn’t as much of an asshole as he wants you to think,” I say. She narrows her eyes and presses her lips together in an exact duplicate of the face mom used to make at me when she knew I was lying.

“Uh-huh. Just watch your back, okay Reid? He might be a wounded animal, but even wounded animals attack,” she says, taking her dinner with her as she leaves.

I put both plates on a serving tray and take a deep breath. Darlene is right. Whether it’s people or animals, the ones who need your help the most are often the most dangerous. I push open the door to his room and set the plates down on the corner of his desk. I don’t say anything as I stack his papers and books up neatly and make room for us to eat.

“You’re eating here too?” he inquires, skeptically.

“No point in both of us eating alone,” I say.

“Where is your sister?”

“She just stopped by to check on me and meet you. She comes by often. She doesn’t live too far from here, and it’s along her route to work,” I explain.

“Oh,” is all he says, looking away from me.

“I heard you on the phone earlier.”

“Yeah?

“Who was that? They seemed to get under your skin.”

He examines my face critically for a moment before answering.

“My cousin, Ruairi,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any family?”

“I don’t. He and I just happen to be related to each other,” he says, cocking his head to the side as he speaks.

“Oh, so like distant cousins,” I nod in understanding.

“Yes, very distant. In fact, the more distant, the better. I would like to maintain or increase the distance,” he chuckles, his eyes shining back at me.

“So what’s the story there?” I ask, picking up my fork. He takes the hint and pokes at his food with his fork.

“There is no real story. He is just a self-important ass, with an ego that is only eclipsed by his bank account,” Liam explains.

“Yeah well, I know a thing or two about rich assholes,” I say absentmindedly.

“As bad as you think I am, he is much worse.”

“Oh really?”

“His head is so big his ears have stretch marks,” he spits out. There is a moment of silence before we both burst into laughter. He covers his mouth when he laughs and looks down as his shoulders shake. He hiccups several times as he tries to regain control, but only succeeds in creating more, not quite soundless, giggles.

“Let it out. I already told you I know your secret,” I say, throwing my napkin at him. That seems to get his attention, and he looks up at me with wide eyes as his laughter dies.

“You play a good game, but you aren’t an asshole. Well, you are an asshole, but not really. You just have had a few shitty breaks,” I assure him.

“Yeah,” he says, focusing on his plate once again.

“So, no chance that Ruairi might come and visit, huh?”

“No chance, unless he thinks there is something in it for him,” Liam says, shoving a fork full of salad into his mouth.

“Well, at least you know what you are dealing with,” I say, shaking my head.

I’ve seen all kinds of dysfunction in families. None of it surprises me. The unpredictability of dysfunction is often the most damaging part of the equation. You never know what kind of treatment you will receive from one day to the next. You never know who to trust or how to trust. As painful as their relationship might be to Liam, knowing that Ruairi won’t even try to help him is better than refusing to accept that fact and carrying the hope that one day things will change.

“I have therapy tomorrow,” he says after several minutes of silence.

“Yeah, I am working remotely while you have your session. Who are these guys you hired?”

“Specialists in sports medicine and physical therapy. They work with athletes usually.”

“But you are no athlete. I mean, you have a decent body, but-“

“Speaking of athletes,” he interrupts “you do look like an athlete, but I don’t see any trophies or medals anywhere.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the small lump of silver that I have carried with me for nearly fifteen years. I drop it on the table in front of me and take a deep breath.

“That is the only medal I need,” I say.

His long fingers creep towards the small pendant slowly, hovering over the dull medallion reverently before picking it up and examining it.

“Saint Christopher?”

“Liam…
My
Liam gave that to me the night of my first game in high school. I was nervous and scared and worried. He didn’t say anything, you know. No fancy speeches or anything. He just handed it to me and then walked away. It became my good luck charm. Every game, every victory, on and off the field, I had that thing with me. Even when I was strung out and desperate for money, I held on to that thing,” I explain, recalling the shy boy whose silent hero worship meant so much to me so many years ago.

“You don’t believe in that stuff do you?”

“What?”

“Good luck,” he says with a lopsided grin, handing the trinket back to me.

“Athletes are superstitious people, Liam. And I was one hell of an athlete,” I say, leaning forward. Liam rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“If that thing worked, you wouldn’t have needed rehab in the first place,” he says skeptically.

“Maybe…” Or maybe remembering that once there was somebody who thought I was a hero helped me to get clean. But he doesn’t need to know that. Those thoughts and private regrets are the ones I reserve for Liam, my Liam.

“I need to get a little more work done tonight,” he interrupts my dark musings.

“Yeah, I’ll leave you to it,” I say, collecting the plates and putting them back on the tray.

In the kitchen, I can hear the low staccato of Liam’s voice as he dictates his work into the headset. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the Saint Christopher medal. You can hardly tell what it is anymore, but it is the only thing I have left from that time. I got rid of all of my memorabilia when I moved. There was nothing from that old life that I needed in this new one except for this.

Remorse and longing wrap themselves around my heart and make breathing difficult for me. I use my meditation technique and focus on my breath. I let the feelings happen but don’t hold on to them. I let the memories of those blue eyes invade my mind, wrapping them in gratitude and putting them back into the place inside my heart where all of my most precious memories are stored.

Liam, I am sorry. 

I miss you.

Liam

             
When Reid knocked on the door to help me into the bath, I was in a flow state. After our intense dinner conversation, I happily escaped into my work. It turns out there is more to Reid Cummings than meets the eye. Some part of him, maybe the sober human part, remembered me. Or at least the boy that I once was. As the steam from the shower filled the bathroom, I took another hard look at myself in the mirror.

              Back then I would have sold my left testicle to have Reid say more than four words to me. Now, he knocks on my door and reminisces about old times with me over dinner, and I hate him for it. I hate him for being kind, and I hate that his kindness is just another thing that I bought with the money I inherited after my parents died. I hate that it feels so good, even after all of these years, and I hate that his farce is so thorough I can almost believe it’s genuine.

              I wash quickly and call Reid in to help me get dressed. He doesn’t say anything while we work together to dry off and put on some pajamas. His eyes have a haunted look in them, but I don’t ask any questions. I don’t want to know. I’m not supposed to care. I have bigger fish to fry.

              Ruairi is not going to sit idly as I convalesce. He will use my accident as an opportunity to stir up trouble. While I can’t say that I care about the millions my mother left me, I can’t live with the thought of that pompous shit benefitting from one red cent of that money.

              I take my meds obediently and climb out of my chair, into the bed.

              “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day for both of us,” Reid says.

              I don’t answer. I just watch his face as he adjusts the bed and arranges the things on the nightstand. His Adam's apple bobs several times in his throat, and his eyes scan the scene in front of him.

              “Forgetting something?”

              “I don’t think so,” he says with hesitation.

              I reach out and grab his hand, forcing his focus on my face. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. I just let the moment stretch out between us. I know the only reason I am here, in his house, is because I paid him. Still, I am afraid, and he is nervous, and we have a history of something like friendship to lean on when we reach moments like this.

              Maybe it’s the fear of the grueling physical therapy ahead of me or the thought of dealing with Ruairi, but I suddenly don’t care if he likes me or not. Tonight I want him to stay and pretend to be the person I thought he was ten years ago.

              “Reid…never mind,” I say, turning my face away from the temptation of those strong hands and sympathetic eyes. Never beg for things you can simply pay for.

              I feel the weight of his body sinking into the mattress as he sits on the corner, but I ignore it.

              “Are you going to be alright?”

              His voice is so soothing it makes me ache inside. I want to tell him I am not alright, and I haven’t been alright for a long time. But I say nothing.

              Reid inches closer to me on the bed, and my whole body begins to vibrate like a tuning fork. I shut my eyes and try to will myself not to be aware of his body so close to mine. The feeling of his warm hand on my forehead puts an immediate end to any hope I had of holding on to my pride. He strokes my hair away from my face and runs the pad of his thumbs across my cheek softly. He shifts his weight and hovers over me, daring me to look him in the eye.

              And I do.

              And I am lost.

              Something old and familiar in his hazel gaze doesn’t let me hide from myself. I give in and wrap my arm around his neck, pulling him down onto the mattress with me, holding him close like a lover. He doesn’t resist, shifting his weight onto his elbows as our chests meet. The mattress groans under the weight of both of our bodies together.

              I let my good hand do the talking for me, slipping my fingers under his shirt and resting them against the warm skin on the small of his back. Without any prompting, he takes my mouth. He slips his hand under my pajama bottoms, and his strong fingers grip me tightly, pinning my pelvis down as his cock hardens.

              Reid tears his lips away from mine and breathes heavily, his forehead resting on mine. I swallow hard, the sound of our breath in the silence of the room makes me hot. I shift under him, grinding the evidence of my arousal against his body as I cup his ass.

              “I want you,” I say, biting his bottom lip and tugging it slightly. He doesn’t deny me entry as I slip my tongue into his mouth and taste him. He doesn’t resist as I pull his shirt up. I run my fingers over the perfectly sculpted pecs and abs, letting the soft curls below his navel tickle the back of my knuckles. As soon as my fingertips make contact with the tip of his erection, his whole body jumps, and he sucks the air past his teeth in a dangerous hiss. The sound is like a starting bell to my libido, daring me to push further.

              “Liam,” he moans, his eyes closed tight and his fists clenched on either side of our bodies.

              “Look at me. Say it again,” I coax, prying his fingers apart. His hazel eyes look almost green as he returns his gaze to my face. Pleasure twists his face into a grim snarl. His breaths come in rough shuddering gasps as I tease his straining cock through the thick fabric of his pants.

              “Liam, what are you doing?” he whispers, his warm breath tickling my eyelashes.

              I shake my head. I don’t know either, but I like it. I will regret tonight no matter what happens. I already know that, and I still can’t bring myself to pull away.

              “I don’t know what we are doing here,” he says honestly.

              “You are seducing the boss,” I say with all of the confidence and cheeky flavor of a Broadway diva.

              “I am
not
,” he growls, his eyes transforming into cold glass as he speaks. “Not everybody is after your money. I guarantee you that I have turned down more money than you have ever seen.”

              I roll my eyes. He has no idea how much money I have seen. In all fairness, I would never have gotten my hands on that money if he hadn’t left my family and me to die. I should thank him for that. Thinking about it makes my blood run cold, and the warm heaviness of his body begins to feel like an iron vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

              I push at his chest with my forearms, trying to make him move, but he uses my struggling against me, crushing me against the mattress as his weight sinks against my chest. He dips his head as if he is going to kiss me and I turn my face away. What is it with assholes? Why do they always think the best way to handle conflict is to fuck the angry right out of you? The braces on my legs restrict my range of movement, and for a minute, I regret letting my hormones get the best of me. I knew Reid Cummings was fire and decided to play anyway. I shut my eyes tight and hold my breath, waiting to get burned.

              “Listen to me, Liam McClehllan,” he growls in my ear. “I have done a lot of things in my life that I am not proud of. But I have never gotten into bed with anybody who didn’t want me. And I am not like those boys you are used to. You can’t buy my interest.”

              Without another word he rolls off of me, hitting the ground like a cat and strolling out of my room with smooth strides. He doesn’t look back, but my eyes follow his every move. The evidence of our close encounter leads the way as he disappears into the hallway.

              He is right. He isn’t like the men I am used to. The tragically stylish, waifish party boys who howl at my jokes and seduce my wallet would never walk away from me. The naïve princes who drink champagne like it’s water and perform acrobatic maneuvers on my naked body so that they can say they bedded an “old money” heir would never cook me dinner. They were for rent. They were expendable. I may have bedded the same one a thousand times or a thousand of them once. I can’t remember and don’t care. But Reid Cummings, who once kissed me and held my hand at a bonfire, him I don’t think I could ever forget.

              Tired and frustrated, I turn off the light and pull the comforter up over my head.

              “What am I doing?” I ask myself out loud. I giggle at my foolishness. Working with that stupid dictation program has finally broken my brain. I am talking to myself.

              “Doing your own voice overs?”

              I pull the comforter down and wait as my eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness. Standing just inside my door is a familiar silhouette.

              “Didn’t you just leave?”

              “Yeah, I did,” he says as he moves toward me. It’s clear that he isn’t going to say anything else.

              “So stay gone!” and by staying gone I mean, stay right here and look at me the way you used to when I was a mute nobody, and you were God incarnate.

              “You don’t mean that,” he says, standing over me.

              “What part of fuck off makes you think I don’t mean it?” I don’t mean it. I don’t mean it.

              “Do you always say the opposite of what you mean?”

              “Seriously, dude. Pound sand.” Only when I know that person can hurt me. You can hurt me. Please just leave. I would rather be alone and crazy in the dark than admit that I want you here and have to watch you walk away.

              I can barely make out the soft glow of his eyes in the dark, and he blinks several times, scrubs his face with his palm and shoves his fists into his pockets.

              “I think I like you, Liam. I mean, like you. In my whole life, there has only ever been one other man I could say that about, and he is long gone. Maybe I am confused. I honestly don’t want to look too deep into it. I just thought you should know,” he says.

              “I’m gay,” I blurt out as if he needed any more confirmation of that fact. “I was a smart ass back at the hospital.”

              “No you weren’t. You were smart. You didn’t know me. You had to protect yourself.”

              “Isn’t that the story of my life,” I say, and the truth behind those words burn through my chest like a hot ember.

              “That’s no way to live,” he says softly.

              “That’s the only way to live. Anybody who tells you different is selling something,” I reply. My words sound acrid and bitter in the warm darkness that enfolds us. Moments tick by slowly without either one of us speaking.

              “Can I stay here tonight?” His voice slices through the awkwardness.

              “Where?”

              “Here, next to you.”

              “Why?”

              “I don’t know. It’s another one of those things I am not going to look at too deeply,” he says, his shoulders hunched over as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

              “I snore,” I say, shoving my battered body to the side as he folds his large frame into the full sized bed. He rolls onto his side and rests his face on the edge of my pillow. I can’t help but smile, so I turn my face away so that he can’t see it. A large hand rests on my chest, his third and fourth finger tapping lightly as I try to figure out how to keep breathing and fall asleep at the same time.

              He smells like soap and sunshine and all of the things that could be mine if I am brave enough to chase them. I fall asleep thinking how great it would be if Reid Cummings fell in love with me.