Give Yourself Away (10 page)

March gaped at him. “You’re nervous?”

“I’m nervous about everything. Sleeping, waking, talking to guys I— Crossing the road involves a lot more than look right, look left, look right again, look left again, look right just once more, look— Well, you get the picture. I don’t even step on cracks on the pavement.” Who was this person with verbal diarrhea?

“Yet you managed to find a large crack and fall nine meters into a cave.”

Caleb’s mouth went dry. “Nine meters? Oh fuck. That’s a long way.”

“How did you come to fall?”

“I was running. Lost the path. Didn’t notice until it was too late.”

“You weren’t in running gear.”

“No. It was a spur of the moment thing. I usually never do anything on the spur of the moment. It inevitably leads to trouble.”

“You…want to come in?”

Now wasn’t the time for Caleb to wonder if he was doing the right thing. He was desperate to go in, yet his feet kept him planted in the gravel. Oh look, another hole. He kicked in more gravel to fill it. What the fuck was the matter? It was as though he knew that once he stepped over the threshold something big was going to happen.

You think?

Oh shit.

His hesitation unnerved March. Caleb could see it in his face and the tension of his shoulders. Had he just showered? His hair was damp and he wore different pants. His feet were still bare though. Hmm.

“Tea with biscuits?” Caleb asked.

“Okay.”

“You haven’t eaten all the chocolate chip ones have you? Otherwise I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

Caleb sighed. “Have to walk all the way back to town to buy more.”

March smiled. A proper wide-mouthed grin where one lip curved a little higher than the other, and for a moment Caleb froze, but it was a shadow memory that slipped away as quickly as it had come.

“Am I going to get farther than the hall this time?” Caleb asked.

“I’ll try.”

Caleb stepped over the threshold and pushed the door closed behind him. He’d half expected another kiss but March strode off and Caleb followed.

The hall opened into a big open-plan kitchen living room that was incredibly untidy. Caleb looked beyond the clutter and admired the Shaker-style, blue-painted wooden doors, the satin-steel handles and glimpses of dark-granite worktops. A bank of bifold glass doors offered a spectacular view of a valley dropping down to the town and the sea beyond. In front of the kitchen area and under a sloping glass roof were an old oak table and chairs, and a big, red, loose-cushioned couch with books piled on the floor, at either end, that were being used as places to put drinks. There were papers and books and photographs and CDs everywhere. It looked like a real home and Caleb felt a pang of envy.

“Wow,” he said.

“Was that wow, what a mess? Or wow, what a view?”

“It was wow, there’s only one chocolate chip biscuit left.” Caleb plucked it out of the box on the counter.

March laughed. “I thought those biscuits were my reward for saving your life.”

“Except for this one.” Caleb took a bite and headed for the couch.

“Tea with milk and sugar?”

“No sugar, thanks.” He checked out the top book.
The Wars of Alexander the Great.
Then bent to read the titles of the others.
High Sierra Climbing.
Genghis Khan.
The Science of Snowflakes.
Weather
.
Endurance Races
.

Caleb dropped onto the couch. “Are you a highly tactical mercenary soldier specializing in high-altitude, cold-weather climbing races?”

March chuckled. “Try again.”

Caleb looked at a few more titles.
Wonders of the Solar System.
Angels—An Endangered Species
.
The Vikings.
Roman Warfare.
Birds of the United Kingdom.
The Plague.
“Not sure I can connect all those. An angelic researcher, of Viking and Roman origin, who believes birds were responsible for the Black Death and will fight to prove it. Alternatively a pub-quiz expert?”

March smiled. “Nearly right. I’m a history lecturer.”

“At Langbourne?”

March’s short nod gave Caleb the impression it was something March didn’t want to talk about. “What about you?”

“I wish I had something exciting to say but I’m just a carpenter,” Caleb said.

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’m useless with wood.” March blanched as if he’d just realized what he’d said. “How did you get in to that?”

“My first ever job was as a laborer on a building site. I found out I was good at working with wood, which was a relief because I was crap at laying bricks. I don’t believe for a moment that you’re useless with wood. What guy is? Anyway, I learned on the job how to make doorframes, build roofs, lay floorboards, fix skirting boards, fit kitchens. Stuff like that. I like making something from nothing.” Just like he wanted to make something out of this. At least March had allowed him in.

He handed Caleb a mug and sat at the other end of the couch, well out of accidental-touching range.

“Do you have to take exams in handling wood?” March asked.

Hmm, playing are we?
Caleb nodded. “I passed them all with distinction. Actually, to be truthful, I don’t have any qualifications apart from cycling proficiency, and if my pal hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t have passed that.” Caleb thought of the many times his friend coached him to practice cycling around cones until Caleb could do it without falling off. His secondhand bike had been too big for him. Though his pal had almost as much trouble with the cones as him.

March’s smile faded as though Caleb had inadvertently brought back some memory. Damn, and he’d liked his smile.

“How about I tell you all about me?” Caleb blurted. “Well, not all, but a bit about me. I have to leave some mystery. Then it’s your turn. Okay?”

March nodded.

“I’m gay,” Caleb said and waited.

March put his mug down.

Caleb spotted that March’s hands were shaking.
Oh fuck, I was right. That’s what’s wrong. He’s not out. And if he panics, I’ll be back outside in seconds.

“I was born in Dorset,” Caleb blurted. “Left in my teens. Came back in my twenties. My ex used to be a porn star. I’m pausing for you to show suitable shock and awe.”

March let out a startled gasp. “Does raising my eyebrows count?”

Yep, when they’re as beautiful as yours.
“Shock and awe at the same time. I’m impressed. My favorite biscuits are chocolate chip cookies. I like mojitos and getting caught in the rain. I
am
into yoga but I don’t like karate. I’m not sure about making love in the dunes of the Cape. Sounds risky. Sand in places you don’t want sand. Killer whales waiting in the shallows when you go to wash off the sand. Possibility of your date being a serial killer who buries you in the sand. Told you, I worry a lot.”

March laughed, which was just what Caleb wanted.

“Back to the porn star,” March said.

“Really? You don’t want to talk about why I’m into yoga?”

Caleb could feel March relaxing and that relaxed him.

“Porn star?” March asked.

“There are pros and cons. I can’t deny Mike was good in bed and I was flattered. I mean, he’d been paid to have sex and yet he chose to have it with me. But now we’re not together, I wonder how much he really meant and felt. I’m not sure you can turn it off and on. I can’t turn off the way I feel. I used to be able to, but once I let myself go…” He gave a quiet chuckle.

“You must have to turn your emotions off and on as a porn star. They tend to be outgoing and unselfconscious, and you might not have noticed, but I’m kind of shy, so having a boyfriend who lived to be the life and soul of the party was mostly a good thing. Then he cheated on me and…hit me, and nothing made up for that, not even his creativity with his big dick. One day he even fastened a paintbrush to it and… Sorry, too much information. After he cheated and hit me—all on the same night—I walked out. That was why I was on the clifftop. I was running because I was upset.” He winced. “You needed one sentence. Sorry. Blabbermouth.” Not like him at all.

“Are you still upset?”

“I’m pissed off I didn’t see sooner what he was like. I feel like I wasted four months of my life. But things are looking up. I nearly died, but I was saved by a good-looking lifeboat man. Last night I got a new job at Sandbery Cove Holiday Village and I can live on-site. I’m looking forward to making a new start.”
Hopefully, with you.
“Now it’s your turn.”

Chapter Ten

Baxter stayed motionless behind the door, listening to Liam’s bellows of rage after he saw the empty bathroom and the open window.
When he also heard Tye cry out in pain, he almost gave himself away. It was supposed to be Tye hiding and not him. Tye had argued Liam liked him best, and though Baxter didn’t think the word
liked
was a good one, he knew Tye was right. That was a good enough reason for Tye to be the one who escaped. Liam always stared at Tye as if he wanted to eat him. Baxter would have done anything to save Tye from that, but the idiot had taken Baxter’s role and now they had no choice but to carry on with the plan. Baxter still could hardly believe Liam hadn’t thought to check behind the door.

But when he looked out of the window, he sagged. Desperate as Baxter was, he knew he’d break a leg or both legs. Even a sprained ankle would be game over. He needed Liam to rush outside and look for him, to give Baxter time to free Tye, or to find a phone or a weapon, or to run.

He heard Tye yelping and Liam swearing as he dragged him back down the stairs. A few moments later, a door slammed. Baxter didn’t move for a while, in case it was a trick, but when through the open window he heard Liam calling him, threatening him, threatening Tye, he ran down to the cellar. There was no key in the door.

“Tye, you okay?” Baxter whispered.

“Yes. Get out of here. Go and get help.”

Baxter bolted back up the stairs. Liam had locked the front door. Did that mean he thought Baxter was still in the house or just something he did automatically? The back door was locked too and the kitchen window nailed shut. As Baxter headed into the hall, he heard Liam coming in behind him and fled upstairs, not just one flight but two, as panic raced through his body.

When he found a small access door leading into the eaves, he crawled through, pulling it shut. There was hardly any light, just slivers of illumination from places where roof tiles had slipped. He kept his knees on the joists and sheltered behind a chimney breast, pressing his knuckles into his mouth when tears threatened.

He ought not to have spoken to Tye. If Liam was taping them, he’d know he was still in the house. Shit.

* * *

March stared at Caleb and wanted him so much he ached.
My turn to talk. What the fuck do I say?
The silence grew longer.

“I know it’s hard to compete with the porn-star bit, but try to say something, or I’ll keep talking to fill the awkward gap and I’ll make no sense at all.”

March opened his mouth, then closed it again, and finally blurted, “How did you meet the porn star?” Shit. Did he have to ask Caleb that?

“He tried to steal my taxi on a wet night and I wouldn’t let him. We ended up sharing, reached his place first and he took my number. He said he’d call me and I was shocked when he did.”

Why was he shocked? March would have called him.
Christ, no I wouldn’t.

“Want me to put my number in your phone?” Caleb asked.

March handed it over.

“I’ll text myself so I’ve yours too, then where this goes is up to both of us, not one.” Caleb smiled.

Where this goes? Or
whether
it goes anywhere? March didn’t want it to be up to him or nothing would happen.

“You don’t think you’re gay,” Caleb said.

“I…I don’t know what I am.”
You liar.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” That at least was true.

“Have you ever…messed around with a guy?”

“Apart from that kiss? No. It’s all your fault.”

Caleb’s face lit up as he smiled and March’s dick wanted to come out and look for itself.

“Can I try something?”

Caleb didn’t wait for him to agree but caught March’s chin in his hand, brushed a thumb over his lips and the embers smoldering in his stomach burst into life. Oh hell. Caleb ran his thumb along March’s teeth and March sucked in a breath while he still could. When the thumb slid onto his tongue and drifted back and forth, March forgot how to breathe. A finger joined the thumb and March sucked. He felt it all the way to his balls and down to his toes.

“Sorry. I meant to kiss you but you’re so sexy,” Caleb whispered and took his fingers from March’s mouth.

March’s cock fought to unfurl against his zipper. “I’m not.”

Caleb laughed. “So sexy and you don’t even know it.”

“I’m not.”

“Am I swapping an ex who thought he was God’s gift to all gay men and a lot of straight women, with a guy who could outshine him on the sunniest day and doesn’t even realize it? You’re gorgeous. Tall, dark and a little dangerous.”

“Can I be a lot dangerous?”

Caleb smiled and leaned in until his mouth hovered over March’s and they were sharing air. When he began to use his lips to tease with feather-soft sweeps, March whimpered.

God. Don’t bloody whimper.

Caleb had one hand on the back of March’s head, fingers threaded in his hair, the other still holding his chin as he nibbled March’s upper lip and then the lower.

Oh fucking hell. Fucking, fucking hell.
Everything was right—the touch, the scent, the sight. March’s senses had shot on to instant overload, his cock granite hard. Caleb kissed his neck, licked the dips and ridges of his ears and then gently bit them, which made March groan even as he tried not to. He became dimly aware his hips bucked every time Caleb touched him. His body wanted more while his mind still resisted.
Traitor, traitor, traitor.

The guy nipped and nibbled along the line of March’s chin and pushed him back, leaning into him. Caleb pressed himself hard against March, nuzzling his neck, and fireworks went off all over his body.

Caleb kissed him until March came to his senses and did more than sit there preparing to spontaneously combust. He began to explore Caleb’s face in the way Caleb had explored his, trailing his tongue down the column of his slender throat and sucking at his Adam’s apple. He could feel Caleb’s erratic breathing, feel him swallowing. Their tongues met and tangled, and Caleb tasted so sweet, felt so hot that March began to shake, overloaded by the intensity of the sensations.

He wanted more. He wanted everything Caleb had to offer. He’d waited too long for this. Maybe this was all that was missing in his life. No, that wasn’t true, but maybe Caleb could help him mend.

His head swirled as if he were in the throes of a fever.
Oh God. Please don’t let me come.

Caleb slid a hand under the back of March’s shirt and ran his nail across his spine. But when Caleb’s fingers wormed into his pants, March jerked upright and retreated to the far side of the couch. Caleb looked as dazed as March felt. March tried to speak but no words came out.

“Sorry. Got carried away.” Caleb gave him a tentative smile. “Wow, you’re a fast learner. Or maybe I’m a brilliant teacher.”

“I want…I want…I don’t know what the hell I want.” March gritted his teeth.

Fingers crept around his and squeezed. “It’s okay.”

“I’m thirty years old. I should know what I fucking want.”

“You do, you just don’t want to admit it.”

March stared him. “Doesn’t that piss you off? Make you think I’m a dickhead? That I can get to this age and still be confused?”

But I’m not confused about what I am, just about what I want.

“No, it doesn’t piss me off. I don’t think you’re a dickhead and I don’t think you’re confused. You know what you are but you’re just waiting for the right moment to believe it, to understand it.”

How the hell could Caleb see that?

“And it has to be the right moment, otherwise it doesn’t mean anything,” Caleb said. “It’s a big step for someone who was confused.”

“Does that mean I’m not going to get to fuck you now?” March tried to make a joke of it.

“And miss out on all the stuff that goes before? Anyway, who says you get to fuck me first?”

March’s heart thumped. “All I can think about is getting you naked.”

He hoped it was his imagination, but he thought he caught a flicker of concern in Caleb’s eyes.

“About that…maybe I better tell you something before this goes any further.”

March’s mouth went dry.

“I’ll only take my T-shirt off if the room’s pitch black,” Caleb mumbled.

March was torn between relief he wasn’t telling him he was HIV positive and bewilderment that Caleb wouldn’t strip in the daylight. “Why?”

“Because I don’t let anyone see my back.”

March stared. “Were you in a fire? Are you scarred?”

“I have…tattoos I don’t let anyone see.”

March almost laughed because he didn’t see what sort of problem that could be, but Caleb’s face warned him not to. “If they bother you, why don’t you get rid of them?”

“Because they can only be made to fade, not look as if they were never there.”

“Why did you have them done?”

“One of those things.” Caleb pushed to his feet. “You okay with me stripping in the dark?” His shoulders slumped and he avoided March’s gaze. “You’re not. I know. Maybe one day I won’t be bothered about it, but I’m not there yet.”

“My brain stopped at the word ‘stripping’.”

Caleb groaned. “Oh God. I’ve created a monster.”

“It was that kiss. I’m ruined.”

Their gazes collided and stuck.

March shrugged. “You’re not the only one who has stuff they don’t want to deal with. Thirty years old and I’m still trying to persuade myself I’m not interested in guys.
Was
still trying.”

“So…you’re interested?” Caleb asked.

“I’m interested in one particular guy.”

“Want some tips on how to approach him? What to wear? What to say? What jokes to tell?”

March laughed. “Yeah, funny guy. I think I’ve figured out part of that. He’s not afraid of a bit of rough, but he likes gentle too. He has a thing about bare feet, judging by the look he gave mine, and mojitos, and there’s a place on his neck that if licked, makes his entire body tremble. Oh and he worries about killer whales.”

“He sounds familiar.” Caleb smiled. “Maybe we have something here, but don’t let’s rush it. Friends, yeah?” Caleb pushed out his fist and March bumped it.

“So I need to wait until tonight to drag you into bed?”

Caleb gave a loud laugh.

“I think we should go out to stop me dragging you there right now,” March said. “Can you climb?”

“You mean stairs?”

March smiled. “I was thinking of Devil’s Crag but maybe we’d be better starting with the college climbing wall.”

“Oh God. What else can you do? BASE jump? Dive with Great Whites? Surf fifty-foot waves? You’re brave. I’m not.”

“Brave? I’ve been pretending to be something I’m not for too long. That’s not being brave. And don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”

Caleb gave a heavy sigh. “Okay. I’ll look at the wall and then decide.”

Caleb had been working up to saying no all the way to Langbourne College. He didn’t need to see the wall to know he didn’t want to climb it, but March had been so relaxed, so different that Caleb had kept his mouth shut. They made each other laugh and Caleb felt comfortable with him. Weird, but it was as if they’d been friends for years.

March led him through a few warm-up exercises outside, but one step inside the echoing sports hall and Caleb came to an abrupt halt.

“Christ Almighty,” he whispered. “It’s a mountain.”

The whole end of the sports hall looked like some mammoth modern-art installation. Red, blue and green, steep vertical walls and overhangs were splattered with multicolored hand- and footholds of various shapes and sizes. Ropes dangled from the top and there was even a section that ran along the ceiling. Fucking hell.

“Great, it’s not busy,” March said at the same time that Caleb said, “Oh dear, it’s too crowded.”

Three people were climbing.

“No.” Caleb shook his head. “I can’t.”
I really can’t.

“You won’t fall. You’ll be attached to an automatic belay device. It takes up the slack as you ascend and safely controls your descent if you let go or fall.”

“When we’re standing in front of Everest, I really don’t like hearing the words ‘let go’ or ‘fall’. Nor ‘automatic’, for that matter. Machines malfunction.”

“Want me to hold you?”

Caleb looked around. “What? Now? Not sure a hug is going to make me change my mind.”

March’s jaw twitched. “I meant I’d fasten you to me and I’d be holding the rope.”

Trusting him not to let me fall. Shit.
“I’m not wearing the right shoes.”

“You can borrow a pair.”

“I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“You’ll be fine. Look, there’s a little kid doing it.”

Everything inside Caleb was still shouting no as he took off his sweater and changed his shoes. He let March put him in the harness and fasten him to the rope, but he kept his lips pressed together.

“Watch what I’m doing,” March said. “Once the rope is through here, I tie a bowline to keep it safe, and I’ll put a stopper knot on just in case.”

“In case what?”

“It’s an extra precaution. You’re not going to fall.”

Caleb looked up at his worst nightmare. No, not quite his worst, but… “What do I have to do?”

“Climb. Don’t overstretch.”

He didn’t want to do this. He was scared to death of falling, but Caleb also didn’t want March to think he was a wimp.
Oh fuck, I
am
a wimp.
He reached for the first hold—yellow, how appropriate—and began to haul himself up.

I can
do this.
I’m not
going to fall. Caleb kept repeating the same phrases over and over as he slowly began to pull himself up the wall. Maybe this was a chance to show March how supple he was. He stretched his leg out to a hold almost level with his shoulder.

“What the…?” March called. “Not that one. It’s too far to reach. Actually, it doesn’t look like it is for you, Mr. Incredible, but you’re not going to be able to push up from that position. Bring your left foot back down and feel with your right foot. Hmm… Other right foot.”

“You’re distracting me.”

March laughed. The bastard.

“You’re doing great,” March said.