Family Man (18 page)

“No!” he moaned, reaching again for my pants. “Trey, come on.”

“No.”

“You can’t stop now. You know you want this as much as I do.”

“I do, Vinnie. But not like this.”

“Don’t be a tease.”

If I’d had any doubt that it was the alcohol talking instead of him, that statement dispelled them. He’d always respected my limits before, and even though I’d followed him to his apartment on the pretense of exploring that boundary, I knew the real Vinnie, the
sober
Vinnie, would never have said that word to me.

“Okay,” I said, untangling myself from his limbs. “You get undressed and get into bed.”

He practically knocked me off the bed onto the floor in his haste to obey. In the faint light from the window, I watched him shed his pants. I turned away when he bent to remove his briefs. When I turned back around, he was in bed, the covers pulled up far enough to make a tent over his erection. I was glad I couldn’t see the look in his eyes.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Give me a minute to get ready.”

What that meant, I had no idea, and I was glad he was too drunk to ask. I went into the bathroom. I put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it with my head in my hands. I took deep breaths until my heart had stopped pounding and my hands no longer shook. I waited until my erection was gone. I found some kind of martyr-like comfort in the dull ache that resided in my scrotum, reminding me that I’d forgone the release I so desperately needed.

By the time I emerged, Vinnie was snoring softly, sound asleep, exactly as I’d planned. The rain outside pelted the window, now a heavy staccato instead of a light patter. The thought of going out into that cold, miserable weather and riding the train home alone made my heart sink. I checked the clock. It was after midnight. I was tired. Even if I left now, I still wouldn’t finish my paper. I wasn’t even sure I’d bother going to class the next day.

Here in Vinnie’s bedroom, it was warm and comforting. His bed looked like heaven.

“Vinnie?” I asked, unsure if I wanted him to wake or not. I wanted to ask if I could stay, but I didn’t want to risk him remembering where we’d left off.

It didn’t matter. He was out cold.

I stripped down to my boxers and climbed into the empty side of the bed. It was a long time though before I fell asleep.

Chapter Twenty-One

When Vince woke up the next morning, he felt like seven kinds of hell. Groaning, he tried to roll over, hoping he could make it to the toilet before he threw up.

That was when he heard the toilet flush. Somebody was in his apartment.

In his
bathroom
.

A different kind of sick swamped him, and he frantically tried to recall the night before, worried he’d picked up some whore at a bar and taken her home, ready to beat himself into next week for being such an idiot, wondering if Trey would ever forgive him.

The bathroom door opened, and Vince made himself look, ready to try to tell whatever woman came out of it that he’d made a terrible, horrible mistake—

But it wasn’t a woman who walked out of the bathroom. It was Trey, wearing nothing but his boxers, appearing tired and frazzled, but still as sexy as hell.

A wave of relief washed over Vince, but it didn’t last long. What exactly had he done?

“I used your toothbrush,” Trey said, not quite meeting his eyes as he crawled back into bed. “I’m sorry. I know that’s gross, but I was desperate.”

After everything that had happened, Trey was worried about using his toothbrush? Carefully, so carefully, Vince turned over to lie on his side so he could face Trey.

I’m a bastard. The lowest, scum-sucking bastard that ever lived.
He ignored the pounding in his head and touched Trey’s face, ready to do any penance he was asked. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked.

Trey lifted an eyebrow at him, then smiled a sad little smile before politely moving his hand away. “You’re forgiven.”

Oh, no. Vince knew penance, and this wasn’t it.

“I’ve been such an ass this past week, not even returning your calls. I just…” He wanted to explain it, but he wasn’t sure he could. Not yet. “I wanted to see you, but I was so scared.”

“Of what?”

A valid question, and one he deserved an answer to, but first Vince wanted to know how much of a jerk he’d been the night before. “I can’t remember much of last night, but I don’t have any doubt I was a drunken, idiot ass.” His stomach lurched. “Did I…? Did we…?”

Now Trey looked mildly pissed. “You honestly think I’d let my first time be with someone so drunk he can’t stand up?”

Vince started to stammer an apology, then went very still as he realized what Trey had said. He’d thought he’d imagined it, but then Trey moved his gaze away.

Vince moved up—carefully—to rest on his elbow as he stared down at Trey in disbelief. “Are you telling me…? Are you saying that you…?”

“I told you.” Trey’s cheeks were pink. “I don’t date.”

“Yeah, but I thought you meant you didn’t date anymore. I didn’t know you’d never…dated.”

His cheeks turned pinker. “Is that a problem?”

Fuck yes, it was a problem. Vince remembered enough of the night before to know he’d been pressuring Trey to go to bed with him, and the idea that he’d been doing that to a virgin—
drunk
—made him feel lower than the belly of a snake. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you looking at me like I was a freak. Like you are right now.”

Vince scowled. “I don’t think you’re a freak. I think I’m an ass.”

“You are. But you’re a sexy ass.”

Vince couldn’t share the joke. “I should have figured it out. That’s just like you, to wait for something special, and there I was so wrapped up in my own problems I ignored you and what you needed.”
Like everyone else in your life.

Trey rolled his eyes, but Vince could tell his words were appreciated.
Good.

“I know I was pressuring you, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

This time, Trey smiled. “It’s okay.”

“It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He was surprised at the way those words made Trey’s smile disappear. “I don’t want your promise.”

“What?”

Trey sighed. “Never mind. You’re forgiven.” He turned toward Vince, reaching out to stroke his bare arm. “But I want you to talk to me. I know something’s wrong. There must be a reason you’ve been avoiding me.”

Ass, ass, ass. That’s what I am, first-class asshole.
“I’m sorry.” How many times would he have to say it before he felt better? “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I… Something happened Sunday, and it’s really upset me. I should have talked to you about it, but…”

Trey scooted over and kissed his forearm. “Talk to me about it now.”

Vince didn’t want to talk about it. His head was pounding, his gut felt like it had knives in it, and that was just from thinking about repeating what he’d heard his family saying, not what the overindulgence of alcohol was doing to him. But Trey deserved an explanation.

He didn’t know how he could say it without falling apart.

Trey’s fingers stroked Vince’s chest, teasing the whorls of hair leading to his briefs. It was a comforting touch, intimate, and oddly soothing to the part of him so afraid to speak the truth. It stirred things deep within Vince, things he’d never told anyone at all, not even Rachel. That simple touch was a flood loose inside him. Vince thought he might be ready to let it out.

Shutting his eyes, shaking a little, he settled back down onto his pillow, clutching at Trey’s hand as he began to speak.

He told him everything.

“I was twelve when I realized what I felt for some of my guy friends was different, that it was wrong. I’d called everybody fag like the rest of the kids, but I didn’t get it until then, what it meant. I knew it was a sin, that it would make everyone mad at me, that it would make me different and shut me out. So I shut it out instead. I did what I was supposed to do, believing it would make everything okay. I dated girls, I scolded myself when I noticed guys. I screwed around a little in college, with one guy in particular, but never very far, and not for long. I told myself it was bad, that I could say no, that I should say no. Every time it crept up on me, I ran. I never let myself look back.

“I married my first wife because she got knocked up. I might not have been the father, but she told me I was, and she was a good girl, and my mama cried, so I married her. She miscarried.” He swallowed hard, remembering that pain, of gearing up to be a father and then finding out he wouldn’t be. “I helped her through that. Helped her through school too. Helped her family when they needed things. I fucking helped her in and out of cars. I took out the trash and did the odd jobs around the house and didn’t press her to make love when she had a headache.” He shut his eyes, embarrassed at the rest. “She left after eighteen months and married some friend of her sister’s eight months later. They have four kids now.”

Trey kissed his shoulder. Vince turned away from Trey’s face so he wouldn’t have to see any pity and continued.

“Patty, my second wife, didn’t want to have sex until marriage. So we didn’t, and when it felt right, I asked her to marry me. I thought this time would be fine. Same thing: did what I thought I was supposed to. Took her out to nice dinners. She liked seeing shows. I took her to the shows.” His jaw set and he shook his head. “She didn’t even last a year. Said I wasn’t involved. Said she didn’t feel like she knew me. I told her if she wasn’t happy, I wouldn’t stand in her way if she wanted to go. She left.” The story was starting to get to him, so he sped it up. “Amelia was the same, except I sort of think I know what I did. I bothered her too much, asking if she was happy. She said I tried too
hard
. And she left too.

“So I stopped. Stopped dating. Slept around a little for awhile, but then I just stopped. Then there was this long dry spell, and then there was that call to the gay couple in Lakeview.” He realized he hadn’t ever told Trey about that, so he filled out the rest. “They had a broken disposal, but they were so sweet and so happy, even when they were upset, and I ached just looking at them. I wanted that. And for the first time ever, I let myself admit I wanted it with a man.” He shivered at the terror of that admission. “I tried to walk away from it, but I couldn’t shake it. I went down to the restaurant, thinking that would square me up, being with my family, reminding me what I’d lose, and I saw you with your group project and thought you were cute.”

Trey’s soft laugh caressed his soul. “You did not,” he said in a voice that made it clear he wanted to believe Vince did.

“I did so, and it freaked me the fuck out, so I went to talk to Rachel. I told her what I was feeling, scared to death of what would happen when I said it out loud, trying like hell to say I wasn’t gay, but she’s Rach, so of course she didn’t bat an eye and yelled at me for saying gay men were effeminate. Which I don’t think I did, but it didn’t matter, she still wanted to kick my ass. She told me to go to a gay bar and see what happened, to try and sort myself out. I went, and it was awful, and I was just about ready to leave and call it a bust when you came up to me.”

Trey found his hand and laced their fingers together, and Vince squeezed back.

“The rest you know, except there’s this cousin of mine. He’s the one they warn you about when you don’t get married and have babies in time. You don’t want to be like Hank, they say. Lonely old Hank up in the burbs. Hank is the horrible warning, and we all nod and say of course we don’t want to be like Hank. Except I found out from Rachel that Hank is gay, that this is why he stays away. I thought maybe it was just a misunderstanding, or that maybe somehow if I fixed things for Hank, it would be okay for me.” He swallowed hard. “Sunday I found out there wasn’t any chance of that. I heard my aunts and cousins talking about Hank, about him being gay, and they said…they said people like that aren’t family.”

The words caught at rough edges in his throat. For a moment the confession hung there, terrible and weighty, the monster ready to consume him raw and whole.

Trey shifted closer, put his arms around Vince’s chest and kissed his shoulder, keeping the beast at bay.

Vince turned his face into Trey’s hair as he closed his eyes. “I’m gay,” he whispered. “I always have been. I tried to run from it, and it was like I ran from my life. I thought I was a fuckup, that there was something wrong with me that kept me from being happy. Except with you I am happy, and it’s not just because you’re sweet and strong and sexy and amazing.” He squeezed Trey close, more to steady himself than anything else. “It’s because for the first time I’m actually being myself. I feel like a kid when I’m with you, and it’s not because I’m a dirty old man. It’s because I think I am a kid when I’m with you, the twelve-year-old who got scared and packed himself away because he thought he was a sin. And maybe I am. Except it doesn’t feel like one, not even close.” He let out a shaky breath. “I want to have a relationship with a man. With you. I really, really don’t want to screw up anymore.” His heart broke, and tears he didn’t realize he’d been holding back leaked silently out of the sides of his eyes. “But I don’t want to lose my family.”

For a long time they lay there, holding each other, Vince trembling as he wept silently, reverberating from everything he’d laid out, not just to Trey but to himself.
I’m gay,
he repeated, tasting the words, getting used to the panic they set loose inside him.
I’m gay. I’m gay, and it’s all right. I’m gay, and my family won’t like it, and I don’t know how to tell them, and I might lose them all forever, but it’s still okay. Somehow, it’s all going to be okay.