L. A. Witt - Rules 1 - Rules of Engagement (24 page)

A
FTER
we caught our breath, we moved into the bedroom. Brandon rested his head on my shoulder, his fingers idly playing with my dog tags. “What’s on your mind?”

I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. “It shouldn’t surprise me anymore that you know things like that.”
“But it still does, so at least I’m not boring you.”
I laughed. “Hardly.”
“So tell me what you’re thinking about.”
I chewed my lip, trying to decide if I really wanted to pursue it. The muffled rattle of my dog tags on their chain reminded me of chirping crickets, a quiet sound that seemed to exist only to emphasize how silent the room was.
Brandon shifted, turning over onto his stomach and resting his chin on his hands. “Talk to me.”
“I was just thinking….”
“About how guilty and ashamed you are of your little stunt in my classroom?”
Rolling my eyes, I gestured dismissively. “Oh please, you deserved that.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.” I nudged him playfully and kissed his forehead. “Anyway. I was thinking about when you gave me your key.” His brow dipped a little and his head cocked. “What about it?”
“Did you—” I paused. “Did it bother you in the slightest that you were giving me your only key and sending me to your place alone?”
“No,” he said simply.
“Really?”
“Should it?”
“No, I mean, not unless you’re worried about my history as a cat burglar and identity thief.”
Chuckling, he elbowed me. “I know where you live, Walker.”
“True, I guess you do.”
He propped himself up on his elbows and trailed his hand up my arm. “Does it bother you that I trusted you with my key?”
“No, I mean, not—” I paused. “I guess it just caught me by surprise.”
“Dustin, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t trust you.” He smiled. “And I have no reason not to trust you.”
“Even after I crashed your class to fuck with you?”
He laughed. “Even after that.” He picked up my dog tags and gave me a good-natured glare. “But expecting me to get through a lecture while you were wearing these, that was just mean.”
“At least I wasn’t making noise with them.”
“The fuck you weren’t.”
I batted my eyes innocently. “You mean you heard that?”
Narrowing his eyes, he let the tags scrape along their chain. “Yes, I heard it, and it was killing me.”
I laughed and watched him play with the tags. “You really like those things, don’t you?”
He wrapped the chain around his finger. “Absolutely love them.”
“Okay, indulge me,” I said, propping myself up on my elbows. “I want to see how they look on someone else.” I lifted them over my head.
“After four years in the military, haven’t you seen them on someone else?”
“Sure,” I said. “But not someone I was interested in sleeping with.” I let the chain hang off of my outstretched fingers.
“Good point.” He sat up and took them, putting the chain over his head. The tags rattled as they hit his chest and jingled when he got his hair out from under the chain. “So,” he said, pretending to strike a pose. “What do you think?”
“I think I get why you like them so much,” I said, grinning.
He lay back down on his side, propping his head up on one hand. “There’s something I want you to do,” he said, toying with the tags.
“What’s that?”
With a completely serious expression, he looked at me. “I want you to draw me.”
I blinked. “You—what?”
“Wearing this.” He held up the tags before making a theatrical display of reclining into a ridiculous pose. “Wearing only this.”
I snorted with laughter and rolled my eyes. “Dork.”
He chuckled and sat up. “What can I say? I’ve seen
Titanic
a few too many times.”
Grimacing, I said, “Damn it, I knew I’d find a flaw in you somewhere.”
“What? The fact that I like
Titanic
?”
“Yes.” I paused. “Though I’ll give you the backseat scene. That was hot.”
“Exactly. And the hand on the steamed-up window?” He sucked in a breath. “Hottest moment in film history.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“See? And it made the whole rest of the film bearable.”
“I wouldn’t go
that
far,” I said. “So who were you looking at during that scene? Kate or Leonardo?”
He grinned. “Ah, Dustin, don’t you see? That’s one of the joys of being bisexual: Scenes like that are twice as hot.”
“Hmm, good point.” I looked at the dog tags. “You’re right about those. They do look hot on the right chest.”
He laughed and started to take them off, but I stopped his hand.
“No,” I said. “Keep them on.”
He grinned. “You want to fuck me with them on?”
“Well, there’s that.” I smiled. “I just want you to wear them.”
“In bed?”
“I mean wear them. Whenever. I want you to have them.”
He looked at them, then at me, and smiled. “So now I have your dog tags, and I’ve let you take off with my house key. I think in some societies, that would mean we’re engaged or something.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “When you figure out which society has the sacred house key-dog tag exchange ritual, do let me know.”
He laughed and kissed me. When he looked up, his expression was less playful. “In all seriousness, I think we have gone past just casual fuck buddies.”
“I know,” I said, running my fingers through his hair. “And I have to admit, this is uncharted territory for me.”
He squeezed my hand. “I know it is, I do. But, isn’t every relationship?”
I shrugged. “Well, yeah, but….”
He smiled. “I know, it’s because I’m a man. But does it really matter?”
“Before I met you, I’d have said yes.” I played with the dog tags on his chest. “But now, I don’t even know which way is up, so….”
“Look at it this way: We’re two people who happen to have a lot in common, a connection most people would kill for, we trust each other, and we have the kind of sex that people base pornos on.” He shrugged. “The fact that we’re both men really doesn’t make a difference, does it?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I said, smiling.
“See?” He pushed himself forward and kissed me gently. When he pulled back, his expression was more serious. “Look, I understand that this is all new to you. I’ve been there. But,” he squeezed my hand, “don’t let all of that get in the way of this. Whatever it is we’re doing, wherever this goes, stay or go because of
who
I am, not
what
I am.”
I let my hand drift from his hair to the back of his neck. “Can I stay because of who you are and what you do to me in bed?”
He laughed. “Please do.”
“I think I will.”
“You think?”
I wrapped my hand around my—
his
—dog tags and pulled him closer. “Come here, you.”

“What’s up?” I asked, taking a quick look in the bathroom mirror and running my hand over my jaw to make sure I hadn’t missed a spot while shaving.

“Hey, man, the boys and I are going out tonight, you want to go?” “I would, but I’ve got plans.”
“Aw, come on, you’ve had plans every night this week.” I chuckled. “Yeah, well, you know how it goes.”
“So who is she?”
My pulse jumped and I hesitated. “Just,” I paused. “Just some

chick I met a while ago.”
“Damn, Dustin,” he said with a laugh. “With as much time as
you’re spending with this—” He paused. “You’re not getting all pussywhipped are you?”
I snorted. “Please. I spent the last ten years being pussy-whipped.
I am not going down that road again.”
I may be whipped, but it’s
definitely not pussy this time
. I barely kept myself from laughing at that
thought.
“Thank God,” he said. “She’s not dragging you off to the ballet or
something, is she?”
“Nah, we’re hitting up that new steakhouse over by the gym.” “
Julian’s
? Oh, dude, that place is awesome. Can’t imagine a
chick would want to go there, though. I had to drag—” He paused for
just a split second. “The last girl I went out with, had to drag her in
there. She wasn’t into the whole ‘peanut shells on the floor’ thing.” “Guess you just have to find the right girl,” I said, chuckling to
myself.
“Yeah, really,” he said. “Look, I’m out. The guys are meeting up
at the usual place if your girl bails on you.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that, but I’ll keep it in mind
just in case.”
“Later, bro.”
“Later.” I clicked off my phone. Something about the way he
paused when he mentioned taking a girl to
Julian’s
unsettled me, but I
couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Maybe he’s hiding a boyfriend too
. I laughed aloud and shook my
head as I grabbed my jacket and headed out. If things continued with
Brandon, sooner or later, I was going to have to tell Dan and my other
friends. And Tristan. And my mother. That thought made me cringe. I
brushed it off, though. I’d cross that bridge when I got there. As I got into my car, I paused.
Never thought I’d need to “come
out” to anyone. Isn’t life funny?
Shaking my head again, I started the
car and headed into town to meet Brandon.

O
N THE
way out of the restaurant, I put my arm around Brandon’s shoulders. He slid his around my waist. Though part of me still worried about what other people would think, for the most part, I just didn’t care. I liked our playful, affectionate contact.

“Oh,” he said. “Did I tell you one of my students asked about you the other day?”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “She wanted to know if you’d dropped the class.”
“She? Was she cute?”
“Oh man, she was hot. Brunette, gorgeous ass. Looked like the type that likes it rough.”
I glanced at him. “Shit, did you give her my number?”
“Fuck no,” he said, feigning offense. After a pause, he added, “I gave her mine, though.”
“Jackass,” I laughed and turned to kiss his cheek.
Just as I did, a white flash startled me. We both stopped in our tracks. Then my blood ran cold.
My ex-wife lowered her cell phone, her mouth contorted into an all-too familiar scowl.
“Stephanie,” I said, barely breathing.
Brandon looked at her, then at me. “Is that—”
“I should have known you were a queer,” she snarled.
I glared at her. “What difference does it make to you?”
“Oh, it doesn’t.” She clicked a few buttons on her phone, then sneered at me. “But your mother will probably love that photo for her Christmas cards.”
My heart fell into my feet. “Stephanie, you wouldn’t.”
She hit one more button and turned the phone so I could see “Photo Message—
Sent
” flash across the LCD screen. “Already did.”
I groaned aloud, letting my arm slide off of Brandon’s shoulders as I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my other hand. “What the fuck do you want, Stephanie? Did you just hunt me down so you could—” I paused. “Wait, how the hell did you know I would be here?”
She smirked. “I have my ways.”
Dan, you son of a bitch
. “Why are you here? Was every dick in the city busy tonight?”
She snorted. “Obviously yours is.”
My cheeks burning, I avoided her eyes. “
Why
are you
here
?”
Her eyes narrowed, then her expression softened, her lip twitching as if trying to hold back emotion. “Because I wanted to see you.”
“Oh, is that right? So you find out I’m on a date, and—”
“So you admit it’s a date. You are gay, aren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. I am out from under your controlling, cheating thumb. What do you want?”
“Oh please, you—” She paused, shifting her attention to Brandon. “What? Surprised to know he used to be normal?”
Without missing a beat, Brandon said, “No, I just thought he had better taste in women.”
Had I not been so furious with Stephanie, the horrified look on her face would have made me laugh. She glared at him and started to speak, but I stepped between them and stabbed a finger in her direction. “Answer my fucking question, Stephanie. You’re the one who came all this way to find me, then took the liberty of announcing who I’m seeing. What do you want, Stephanie?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I heard through the grapevine that someone saw you with him, and they thought you had gotten yourself a boyfriend. I wanted to see for myself.”
I was shaking with anger and tension. Brandon rested a reassuring hand on my back, and I glanced over my shoulder at him, then looked at Stephanie “How did—”
“Why, Dustin?” she shrieked, her sudden anger startling me.
“Not that it’s any of your—”
“Got tired of trying to figure out how to get a woman off?”
“Stephanie, you know—”
“After ten years, I really don’t blame you.”
Fury tightened my chest. “After ten—”
She refused to let me finish a sentence. “Or is that why you always wanted to try anal with me?”
“What? You’re the one who—”
“Come on, Dustin, tell me: why a man? Why now? Did—” “It’s—”
“Say it, Dustin,” she snarled. “Why?”
“Damn it, Steph—”
“Not man enough for a woman? Why do—”
“
Because he’s everything you’re not
,” I snarled. Brandon’s hand tensed, nearly lifting off my back.
Stephanie balked but recovered, snorting bitterly. To Brandon, she said, “Good luck with him. You two make an adorable couple.” She held up her phone, grinned, turned on her heel, and walked away.
I watched in disbelief. Brandon’s hand slid up my back, squeezing my shoulder gently. “What was that all about?”
My knees suddenly went slack. I sank onto a nearby car’s bumper, cursing as I ran a hand through my hair.
“Dustin?” Brandon sat next to me and squeezed my shoulder again.
“I told you she was a fucking psycho,” I said. Nausea rose in my throat.
“What did she do? Follow you?”
I shook my head. “I told a friend earlier that I was going to
Julian’s
. That fucking son of a bitch. He must have told her he knew I had a date tonight.”
“But why would she follow you here?”
“She’s done this before. Followed me when I’ve gone out with other women. Apparently she thinks I deserve it after I busted her for cheating.”
“Oh Jesus.”
“Yeah.” I rested my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, rubbing the back of my neck with both hands. “And now everyone I know knows about us.”
“Shit. How many people did she send it to?” He gently ran his hand up and down my back.
“Just one.” I groaned. “Unless she was bluffing, and I highly doubt it, she sent it to my mom.”
“Why the hell would she do that? What does she possibly have to gain?”
“Anything to make my life hell.” I sighed. “And she knows my mother hasn’t forgiven me for divorcing her.”
“Even though the bitch cheated on you?”
I laughed bitterly. “Stephanie and my mom have always been really close. When I left that night I busted her in the hotel, I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. Went home, drank myself stupid, and went to sleep.” I sighed again. “She, on the other hand, called my mother and damn near everyone we knew. Told them that
she
had set
me
up. That she’s the one who sent the fake e-mails, she’s the one who got the room intending to catch me in the act of cheating.”
“You’re shitting me.”
I shook my head. “Nope. So now everyone believes I cheated on her.”
“Didn’t you have the e-mails? The chat accounts?”
I looked at him. “Remember the part where I went home and drank myself stupid?”
“Yeah?”
“By ‘stupid’, I mean I went through and deleted every e-mail, every picture, every scrap of anything of her on my computer.
Everything
.”
His shoulders slumped. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “Honestly, I think she really believes she was the victim. When I busted her, she said she wouldn’t have done it if I’d fucked her enough, or loved her enough, or whatever.” I cleared my throat. “Christ, she’s the one who pushed me away half the time when I touched her.”
“Are you serious?”
“God, yes. If I dared to cuddle up next to her during the night, she’d shove me off as soon as she was awake.” Swallowing the lump that rose in my throat, I looked at him and said, “Honestly, it took me a long time to stop expecting you to do it, because it’s just what I’m used to.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Old habits die hard.”
Brandon’s hand moved on my back, rubbing my shoulders gently. His touch was more reassuring and comforting than ever.
I blew out a breath. “And I think that while she was convincing everyone else that I had cheated on her, she actually convinced herself that she wasn’t in the wrong.” I glanced at him, smirking. “She is one hell of a manipulator.”
“So I see,” he said, looking at the empty space a few feet away where she and I had faced off. “And you lived with that for ten years?”
“Plus the year or so we dated before we got married. Like I said, she’s a manip—” My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. “Oh crap.”
“What?”
I pulled the phone out. My mother’s number was on the caller ID, and I groaned, letting my head fall forward. “Fuck.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry about her tonight,” he said, his voice gentle. “Why don’t we get out of here? Sleep on it. Deal with her tomorrow.”
Numbly, I nodded. We got up and headed towards the cars.
As I stopped to unlock my car, he put his hand on my hip. “Do you want to stay at my place tonight? I mean, with all of this, if you don’t, I under—”
I silenced him with a gentle kiss, holding his face in both hands. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”
His expression was uncertain for a moment. Then he smiled. “I’ll meet you there.”
I smiled, kissed him, and we got into our respective cars.