Moving in Rhythm (3 page)

Why? she’d asked, working so hard to keep her face from crumbling that it broke his heart. That was where the conversation ended. Because
why
wasn’t something he was willing to discuss. With anyone. Ever. What was the point of going through all the stress of coming out if he wasn’t capable of forming a real relationship?

Not that it mattered. He was done with sex. What had it brought him? Mostly self-loathing, groping and panting with strange men in dark corners or far too well-lit bathrooms. Nothing was worth the disgust he felt with himself afterward. Not to mention that panic attacks, heart palpitations and goddamned fainting spells in the presence of attractive men were enough to keep the issue from ever coming up again, as it were. It was no big deal, really. Lots of people were happily celibate.

Mark closed his eyes and willed away the thought of Seth’s undulating body. He clenched his fists and counted slowly to ten. Sometimes that worked.

He opened his eyes and Belle sat in front of him, her tongue hanging, her blond fur covered in mud. He laughed, folding his laptop and slipping it into his backpack. “Lisa is not going to like how you look. We better head back and hose you off.”

Belle stood, wagging her whole body as she careened into him.

Mark chuckled and buried his hands in her ruff. “Who needs anyone else when we have each other, right, girl?” He leaned down and let Belle lick his chin. “That’s my baby.”

“Nice-looking dog.” The familiar voice startled him and Mark looked up to see Seth grinning down. He looked clean, healthy, beautiful in jeans and a sweater.

Mark looked away. “Uh, thanks.” His fingers clenched Belle’s fur. She stiffened and he let go. Belle turned to introduce herself to Seth’s companion, a sleek greyhound who seemed to slide behind Seth as Belle sniffed at him. Mark knew how he felt.

Seth reached down and stroked the greyhound’s neck. “This is Fred Astaire, Freddie for short. He’s a track rescue. Spent his first few years in a cage. I bring him here to help him get over his shyness. Do you mind?” Seth sat on the other side of the bench.

Mark mumbled something noncommittal as his heart rate skyrocketed.

“It’s tragic, really.” Seth stroked Freddie’s sleek neck. “They only leave their cages to eat, run and fight.”

It sounded familiar. Mark gave the dog a sympathetic look.

“He’s still not very civilized. I have to keep him reined in or I’d be chasing after him all afternoon.” Seth held up his right hand to show Mark the leash.

Mark looked at the leash, at the dog, at Belle, at his feet, and finally forced himself to nod. “That’s…” He trailed off. Maybe Seth would decide Mark was too stupid to live and he’d leave.

Belle circled the skittish greyhound, who wound himself around the park bench, trying to keep her from sniffing his ass.

“Belle, stop that,” Mark barked so loudly that all of them, Belle, Freddie and Seth, jumped.

“It’s okay,” Seth said, still smiling. “He needs to learn. Belle, that’s a beautiful name. What kind of dog is she?”

Mark swallowed. His face pulsed with heat. He could hear the rush of his pounding heart.
Breathe, damn it, breathe
. He inhaled deeply and spoke as slowly and evenly as he could. “Don’t know. Got her at the pound.” Shit. He sounded like a robot.

Seth reached out and patted Belle’s neck. “Well, she’s beautiful.” He leaned toward the dog. “Are you ready to be a big brother?”

“What?” Mark asked, his head too fuzzy with panic to follow.

“Oh,” Seth sounded rattled. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be offensive. I meant when your baby comes. Is that too weird? It’s just you seem like a dog person and…”

Mark blinked. His baby. Realization dawned and he almost laughed. Of course. Seth thought he and Lisa were together. He should correct him. Except that something like relief washed over him and the panic began to dissipate. Then he did laugh. Because it seemed to solve everything. He could pretend to be his brother. Gregarious, easygoing Pete. Pete, the husband and father. A man’s man. The kind of guy who had normal conversations with other men in dog parks.

Mark smiled at Seth for the first time. “Yeah, that’ll be a change.” A full sentence. Progress.

Belle made one more pass at Fred Astaire’s rear, earning herself a growl. Seth sighed and stood. “I think he’s had about enough. But we come here often. Maybe we’ll see you again.”

Mark channeled Pete and nodded. “That would be great.”

“Great. And I’ll see you at Zumba.” Mark’s distress must have shown on his face, because Seth grinned. “Oh come on. It’s not that bad. And you promised.”

With a wave he turned and strode off.

Mark closed his eyes and prayed, although he wasn’t sure for what. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable awareness that he was lying to the most interesting man he could remember meeting. He told himself it was okay, Seth wouldn’t be interested anyway—and besides, Mark was off sex. It was the perfect solution as long as Lisa didn’t spill the beans, the very thought of which shot a wave of panic through him. He called to Belle. With any luck he could run himself into an early heart attack.

Mark toweled off Belle as best he could. She smelled of wet dog and shampoo but it was better than the disgusting mess he’d just scrubbed from her coat.

“This dog park thing has its drawbacks,” he muttered to her, opening the back door and following her in. “Maybe running is enough exercise.” Run away, run away, run away home.

Lisa stood staring into the refrigerator. Turning toward the sound as he entered the kitchen, she smiled tiredly. “Hey, how was the park?”

Mark stepped quickly toward her, took firm hold of her shoulders and steered her to a chair at the kitchen table. “It was great. And I’m cooking.”

She sank into the chair with a weak protest. “I can do it.”

Mark pulled up another chair and swung her legs up and onto it. “Sure you can, but not tonight.”

He grabbed pillows from the living room, put one beneath her feet and another behind her back. He’d been so swept up in his own emotional turmoil that he’d forgotten he was there to take care of Lisa. Who was very pregnant and whose husband wasn’t exactly away on a business trip. He knew how scared
he
was for Pete. She must be having an even harder time. He added insensitivity to his ever-growing list of inadequacies.

Lisa smiled up at him. “This is sweet. Thanks, Mark.”

“No problem. I should have offered earlier.” He opened the fridge. “My repertoire is fairly limited but—” he scanned the contents, “—I’m pretty sure I could roast these chicken breasts and it looks like there’s the makings of a good salad.” He looked over his shoulder at Lisa. “Sound okay?”

She smiled. “Sounds heavenly. Especially the part about you cooking.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time for me to start being a better caretaker.” He began pulling out ingredients and stacking them on the counter.

“I got an email from Pete today.” Lisa said it casually, but when he turned to look at her, she was studying the floor. “He’s still stationed in the clinic in Bagram but there are rumors he might be going to Kandahar.”

Mark stared at her. Bagram was bad enough. “Kandahar? Isn’t that in the middle of the fighting?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? There are always rumors. I’m gonna stay up until it’s morning over there, try to catch a few minutes on Skype. You want me to find you if he’s in?”

Mark smiled. “That’s okay. I’ll stay out of it this time. You two need some alone time. Give him my love.”

She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. “You know, they can keep him as long as they need him. And that could be a long time. I wish he’d gone into some quiet specialty, like dermatology or ear, nose and throat—not emergency medicine.”

“He likes the adrenaline rush that comes with saving lives.” Mark turned on the oven and rummaged in the cupboard for a pan.

Lisa looked at him. “But you wouldn’t like that.”

Mark shook his head. “No, ma’am. I get all the adrenaline I need from…living, I guess.”

She cocked her head. “And yet you look so alike. You’re almost like twins. If you got the right haircut you could probably fool anyone.”

He grinned at her. “Not really. As soon as we opened our mouths it would be all over.”

Her forehead creased. “See, I don’t get that. How can you be so similar and so different?”

Mark shrugged. “Maybe looks really aren’t everything. And I am almost two years older. Teachers I’d had used to do a double take when Pete showed up in their classrooms, but by the first parent-teacher conference they were always wondering if we were really brothers. Kids are who they are right from the beginning.” He nodded toward Lisa’s belly. “You’ll experience that firsthand soon enough.”

She rubbed her bump thoughtfully. “I guess.”

Mark slid the chicken into the oven and began washing lettuce. What could he say? She was right. Pete was the hail-fellow-well-met type, talkative, warm, the kind of guy everyone liked. The exact opposite of his demon-driven brother. Pete had played basketball in high school, pledged a fraternity in college and dated half of the Kappa Delta sorority house before settling down with Lisa during his first year in med school. Mark, on the other hand, was a spotty member of the chess and math clubs in high school and hid out in his dorm through college, stumbled into a studio apartment for graduate school and “dated” only poor Ruth, who deserved better than a neurotic closet case who never even—

“Claire is really nice,” Lisa lobbed into the silence.

Mark blinked. “Uh-huh.”

She picked at her nails. “I invited her for dinner Friday night.”

“Why?” Mark stopped chopping carrots and looked up at her.

Lisa shrugged. “I thought we should get to know her.”

“Because she’s a midwife?” Mark asked, hopeful.

She gave him an exasperated look. “No silly. Because she’s very pleasant. And you can’t deny you were watching her in class. You hardly took your eyes off her for a minute.”

Mark gaped at her. “I wasn’t—”

She laughed. “It’s okay. I won’t tell her you were staring at her ass.”

Mark opened his mouth, closed it, blinked and went back to chopping carrots while he scrambled for something to say. Finally he tried, “I’m a pretty confirmed bachelor, Lisa.”

She giggled. “So was Pete when I met him.”

“Um, that’s not exactly what I meant,” he mumbled.

She grinned at him. “Oh, I know. He was dating a lot of women back then, but that was a defense mechanism. You isolate—which isn’t healthy, you know, but it’s just the opposite side of the same coin. Maybe you’re more like Pete than you think.”

The knife slipped and a small ribbon of blood beaded along Mark’s finger. An instant later came the sting. He stuck his finger in his mouth and sprinted from the room, mumbling over his shoulder something about being right back. In the bathroom he inspected his cut. Just a nick, it would probably be healed by bedtime. He fished out a bandage and wrapped it around his finger. Opposite sides of the same fucking coin indeed.

He stared at himself in the mirror. “You’re a frigging mess. This is ridiculous. You just need to make it through the next few…” He trailed off, remembering Lisa’s pronouncement that the army could keep Pete as long as they wanted. Was he really going to high-tail it back to his empty little apartment a hundred miles away and leave Lisa with a tiny baby to care for alone? No, he wasn’t that much of an ass.

Belle appeared in the open bathroom doorway. She looked up at him with large dark eyes, probably because he hadn’t fed her recently, but he could always flatter himself that he was seeing real concern.

He smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Might as well settle in, babe. We’re here for the long haul.”

Lisa had to stop trying to set him up, though. Maybe if he didn’t give Claire any encouragement she’d get the message on her own. It hadn’t worked with Ruth but then, Claire didn’t look like a naïve small-town virgin with a need to rescue. “Come on—” he patted Belle in passing, “—I’ll feed you too.”

* * *

He woke covered in sweat and sat up, the dream so vivid he found himself looking wildly around the room hoping he was still there. His heart pounded, but the room was empty except for Belle, Mark and Mark’s aching hard-on. He sank back, willing himself back asleep, back to where Seth loomed above him. His mind filled with the thought of the firm flesh of Seth’s ass beneath his hands, Seth’s skin against his, Seth’s cock… Mark groaned and rolled to his side, closing his eyes against the emptiness of the room. Pressing back toward the dream, he allowed himself to imagine Seth’s hand in place of his own, Seth’s mouth on his and it took only a few strokes before he buried his face in the pillow and came hard. As his heart rate and breathing slowed, a dark wave engulfed him and he felt very, very alone. He closed his eyes and shook his head. If he hadn’t been able to face the guy before, having wet dreams about him wasn’t going to help.

* * *

Mark was waiting outside the gym doors when it opened at 5:45 a.m. He had studied the schedule and knew Seth didn’t teach on Wednesdays, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Avoidance was the better part of valor. He planned to be back home by seven. Without running into anyone he knew or anyone who moved like that.

He shivered against the early-morning chill and ran a hand through his hair, stomping his feet impatiently as he watched the attendant unlock the front door. He hoped someone stronger than this teenage girl would show up to spot him, because he intended to go for the burn. Sublimation, the key to happy celibacy. Okay, maybe happy wasn’t in his nature, but he knew how to go for exhaustion and that might work as well.

He would double his morning mileage after the workout. Belle would be up for it. She loved a long run.

“You’re here early.” The voice startled Mark but it was only another gym rat. Ed might be his name, the guy who’d told him about his competitive weight lifting back in the day.

Mark smiled. “Good to see you. I’m gonna up my weights today. Do you think you could spot me?”

Ed grinned. “Sure thing. Always glad to help another serious bodybuilder. Have you thought about what I said, about the amateur competition? Give it a couple of years and you’d have a pretty good shot at a ribbon. Especially if you lost some of that body fat, got down to two, maybe four percent. You’re at, what, ten now? I could help out. You know, give you some pointers.”

Mark smiled and moved toward the bench press. He loaded up the dumbbell with his usual set of weights then added twenty pounds. “Nah, thanks, though. This is simple recreation for me.”

Ed looked flustered. “Hey, I didn’t mean to imply you were fat or anything. You look great. It’s just that with bodybuilding you need to look really sculpted, like this.” Ed struck the classic gorilla pose, muscles popping out all over.

Mark considered his overdone body and hoped he’d never look that crazy. Maybe too much sublimation could be a bad thing. He slid onto the bench and smiled up at Ed. “It’s all good. Now I’m gonna try to get at least six reps out of this puppy.”

Ed nodded, bent his knees and readied himself to spot. Mark closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and pressed upward, losing himself in the moment of power and the illusion of control.

* * *

Mark hadn’t intended to run to the dog park. At least, he thought that wasn’t in his plan. But there it was and wouldn’t it be a shame to pass by without letting Belle play? He told himself he wasn’t looking for anyone in particular as he scanned the park. After all, hadn’t he spent the morning avoiding the man?

Mark stood by a tree, stretching out his hamstring while Belle ran to join the pack by the pond. Maybe this time she wouldn’t go in. Then he heard the splash. Good thing she didn’t mind baths.

He had almost given up on Seth when he spotted him crouched beside Fred Astaire, petting the greyhound with one hand and a sleepy-looking English bulldog with the other. Seth seemed to be whispering in Freddie’s ear. The greyhound looked wary but gradually allowed the Bulldog to sniff his forepaw. Seth beamed at his dog like he’d won the Westminster Dog Show. Mark’s heart warmed. It was a great smile. Even Freddie seemed to bask a little in its glow.

Seth looked up, saw him and grinned. Mark gave a weak little wave, feeling light-headed as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He tried to muster his inner Pete as Seth strode toward him, Fred Astaire trotting daintily by his side. Even walking across a dog park, Seth’s body was a thing of beauty. Mark let himself admire the way Seth held himself, shoulders back, head up, limbs swinging in graceful arcs. It was breathtaking, really. Of course, Pete wouldn’t think so. And his dad, what would his dad see?

Horrid words floated into Mark’s consciousness, echoes of his father’s voice. Queer, faggot, poofter—where did that one come from? Mark wanted to channel Pete, not his father.

He took a deep breath. Seth and Freddie were almost upon him. He could taste the plastic quality of the smile he plastered on for Seth but there was nothing he could do.

“Hi.” Seth grinned.

“Hey,” he muttered feebly in response.

“Been running?” Seth gestured toward Mark’s shoes and Mark was suddenly aware of his own sweat making dark pools under his arms and down his back. He tried not to think of how he looked, or smelled for that matter.

“Yeah. With Belle.” Mark nodded toward the pond.

Seth looked over at Belle, who was rolling in the mud along the shore of the pond. He laughed. “How’s Lisa going to like you bringing that mess home?”

Mark shook his head, aware only of the thundering of his heart, the rising panic closing his throat and a deep sense of guilt at his ongoing deception.

Seth glanced at his watch. “Oh shit. I have to go. I have rehearsal in twenty minutes.” He smiled as he moved away. “Nice to see you. Give my best to Lisa.”

Mark nodded, trying for an answering smile. The man must think he was a moron. Mark watched Seth leave the park and climb into a dark blue Honda Civic. Only after Seth pulled away from the curb did Mark call Belle. It was time to run home.

* * *

Mark was uncoiling the hose when Lisa poked her head out the back door and called, “My last student canceled. You want to take that muddy dog to the beach?”

Mark smiled. “That sounds a lot more fun than this.”

Lisa nodded. “I’ll grab some towels and meet you at the car.” She surveyed Belle’s mud-caked fur. “Your car.”

“No problem.” Mark took Belle by the collar and led her to the car. “Stay,” he commanded while he dug for the tattered blanket he kept in the trunk. He threw the blanket over the backseat and gestured to Belle, who jumped in and settled down, her head on her paws.

Lisa appeared at the front door and Mark sprinted up to take the stack of towels from her. “I’d almost forgotten Lacland has a lake.”

She followed him to the car. “It’ll still be way too cold for us, though Belle might not mind. We can’t take her to City Beach but I know a great little spot up the road a bit.”

When the wet dog smell got too overpowering they rolled the windows down. Mark turned on the public radio station and soft jazz filled the car.

Lisa shook her head. “You are such a typical academic.”

He shrugged. “You can change it if you like. I don’t know anything about popular culture so I tend to stick with what I know.”