Some Like It Hopeless (A Temporary Engagement) (6 page)

“Let’s just cross all of Mulholland off the list. We don’t need to come back up here.”

She smiled, then sighed. “It’s not going to work, Brady. This. Us. It’s just for fun, just a little distraction.”

“You already said yes.”

“I wasn’t saying yes to you. It was more of a ‘I’ll have what she’s having’ yes.”

“You were saying yes to the car.”

She grinned. “I might have gotten a little carried away thinking about zipping along in your car. But there’s the big problem of Argentina, remember? If I get in your car without you, I’m not coming back.”

“You will.”

“I won’t. I won’t come back, I won’t stop.” She nodded her head. “Except for the occasional messy burrito and the more frequent speeding tickets.”

“Is Shane going to go with you?”

She’d been happy and playful, but she froze when he said that.

He said, “I have no one. You have half of someone. Half of him plus half of me equals as close as you’re going to get.”

“And you? What are you going to do with only half of me?”

He looked at the top of his car. “I’ll make do.”

He smiled at her.

When she didn’t smile back, he said, “Half of you is twice as much as I deserve.”

“You really want this?”

He nodded. He did.

Peace had turned out to be impossible to fight.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the hood, staring out at the city. “If I do this, I want it to be clear that I’m only using you. Your money, your body.”

“My car.”

She looked at him and nodded. When he nodded back, she pushed herself off the car, opening the driver-side door and saying, “Are you going to pay for the speeding tickets?”

“No. But I’ll pay for the gas.”

When Brady woke the next morning in Cassandra’s bed, her alarm blaring loud enough to wake the neighbors, he stared at the ceiling. Ran his hands along the sheets.

Seven hours, again. No dreams, no screaming.

He turned his head and found Cassandra watching him.

Six years. Six years of wishing he’d died, too. Six years of trying to punish himself. Six years of reliving that one moment that had changed everything.

He didn’t remember the accident, not during the day.

But at night, he dreamed, and he didn’t know if it was real or if it was a story his subconscious had made. Because a man couldn’t destroy his whole world and not remember it.

He pushed the sheet off, and Cassandra said, “I’m never getting rid of you, am I?”

He stopped, poking his internal wounds. They were still there, he could feel it. But it hurt a little less, as if it was finally healing. No longer raw, no longer infected.

He didn’t know why he’d been given this reprieve. All he knew was he would grab it with both hands. He’d denied himself the oblivion of alcohol, the flying freedom of coke, but this he couldn’t fight. Because it didn’t feel wrong.

It felt. . .not like forgiveness, but acceptance. It felt like what was next.

He said, “It might come back.”

Cassandra said, “I’m not that lucky.”

Brady blinked, then couldn’t help it as his lips tipped up. His smile grew, and hers answered, until they were both lying there grinning at each other.

He said, “Neither am I.”

She rolled toward him. “What are you talking about? You get all this,” she waved her hand down her body, “and all it’s going to cost you is your car.”

He laughed. The first time in six years he didn’t try and stop it, and then he did it again.

“You’re right. That is pretty lucky.”

And then they both got lucky.

Shane had given Christian a few days to himself. To miss what he’d found, to see what he wanted to give up.

Because Christian didn’t want Shane or his love.

Shane already knew, and was trying to give Christian time to figure out, that you can’t fight yourself. That you can’t be anybody but yourself.

Shane had been lucky. His mother hadn’t cared one jot that her son was gay. And if his father had cared, he’d hidden it well before he’d passed on. But Shane thought that the man had loved his son. Had loved everything that made him Shane and wouldn’t have changed anything about him.

Shane had had unconditional acceptance and love since the moment of his birth. Had never been made to feel that something was wrong with him.

Shane would give that to Christian. He would love everything about him. Love that he was careful and cautious. Love the daily struggle that had made him who he was.

And he would give Christian as much time as he could, it was just Shane Wilder wasn’t a very patient man.

Christian opened his door, his hazel eyes cautious and his brown hair
brown
, and said, “You were going to give me a week.”

“I know. Two days was all I could last. I froze my car keys in the ice tray last night, which was why you got a third night.”

Christian smiled like he knew he shouldn’t give Shane any encouragement but just couldn’t help it.

Shane said, “I want you to meet my friends. Brunch with Kenny and Tom, and then we’ll swing by and say hello to Cass. See if Dear Penthouse is there because her exact words were, ‘He’s big, he’s tailored, and he has a scar.’”

Christian sighed. “Shane.”

Shane sighed. “Christian.”

“I would love to meet your friends, I would love to be one of those friends. But you want more than that.”

Shane nodded. He wasn’t going to lie about it. “I do. And so do you. You just won’t let yourself.”

He grabbed Christian’s hand, holding on even though it was tense, even though Christian jerked. “So, I’ll take friends. For now.”

Christian pulled at his hand. “And this is being friends?”

“Yes. I hold Cass’s hand.”

“This is different.”

It
was
different. And it wasn’t because their attraction was one-sided, either.

But Christian couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say that he was attracted to Shane.

“Come meet my friends, Chris. ‘Resistance is futile.’”

And there was that pinched smile again on Christian’s face. Like he thought Shane was wonderful and fun, he just didn’t think he should think it.

Should, should, should.

Oh, how Shane hated should. Shane wondered just who came up with all these shoulds.

Shane stayed silent, hard though it was, and let Christian fight himself.

Christian finally said, “Don’t think that you can quote Star Trek at me and get me to do whatever you want.”

Shane sighed theatrically and tugged Christian out the door. “‘I find your lack of faith disturbing.’”

Christian’s smile was a little bigger, the pinch a little smaller, and Shane said, “I know. You prefer Star Wars.”

When they got to the car, Shane let go of Christian’s hand, and it wasn’t his imagination that the contact lingered; the reluctance to let go wasn’t one-sided.

Shane decided he wasn’t beating his head against a door that would never open. He just was beating his head against a door that
might
not ever open.

Kenny and Tom were already at brunch, sitting down side by side. They’d been “married” for years. Years before it had been legal for them to be, and they’d been one of the first couples in California to tie the knot when the state had granted them the privilege. The first time around.

They’d cried for the other couples who had missed their chance when it had been taken back, and cheered yet again when the Supreme Court upheld the decision that Proposition 8 was unconstitutional.

Kenny always said it was necessary to be a lawyer if you were gay today, so you could understand what was going on. Or “married” to one. Or, finally, married to one.

Shane bent to kiss their cheeks. Kenny, looking like he’d rather be in Hawaii, his brightly colored shirt sporting parrots. Tom in his double-breasted suit, even on a Sunday.

Tom patted his mouth tidily and peered at Christian. “And who is this? I was preparing myself for Cassandra’s sarcastic comments.”

Kenny chortled. “You mean, coming up with your own. But put them away for now because this looks like a nice young man.”

Shane held a chair out for Christian, and he was not the only one at the table who noticed the pause before Christian took it.

“This is Christian. And he is a nice, young man. From Utah.”

Kenny’s eyes flicked down to Christian’s plaid shirt. “Utah!”

Tom said, “A sad business there right now.”

Christian said, “I do think most people were surprised when gay marriage became legal. I would have sworn it would be the last state to extend marriage to same-sex couples.”

Tom agreed. “They passed a law to prohibit it.”

Kenny said, “But it is exactly what happened in California. It shouldn’t be too long before it is legal again.”

“It took five years to make its way through the courts for California. I doubt it will happen any faster for Utah.”

Kenny sipped his cappuccino and slipped his hand into Tom’s. “Five long years. But for a moment, all things were possible, and some couples were able to take advantage.” He sighed. “When we heard the news, I was so excited but Tom said to wait and watch. I detest when he is right.”

Tom smiled slightly. “My dear, it happens so infrequently one would think you could just muddle through until I was wrong again.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at Shane and Christian. “One would think.” He waved his hand in the air in front of him. “But enough of that. We are in California, where the birds are chirping, the smog is choking, and young lovebirds can sit stiffly next to each other. Just where did the two of you meet?”

Shane nearly groaned as the strawberry-covered waffles were placed in front of him. The whipped cream leaned precariously, the nuts covered it liberally. He said, “At a wedding reception,” and then filled his mouth with a large bite.

Kenny grimaced at him, then said, “Not Cassandra’s wedding reception, I hope.”

Shane closed his eyes, partly to enjoy the waffle, partly in shame.

He swallowed and hung his head. “Yes. I left her there, with her family. In purple!”

Kenny shook his head. “Gasp! She will never forgive you.”

Tom said, “Of course she’ll forgive him. Despite her mouth, she has a heart that is big and resilient. And all she has to do is look at these two to know her sacrifice was worth it.”

Kenny and Shane exchanged a look, and Kenny stage-whispered behind his hand, “Alas. He is wrong again and all is right with the world.” Kenny turned to Christian, trying to include him in the conversation. “And what did you think of our dear Cassandra? I see you survived the experience.”

Christian shook his head and Shane said, “He hasn’t met her. Yet.”

Kenny said, “Wise.”

Tom agreed. “Wise.” He said to Christian, “Just know that she loves Shane. And she will love you, eventually, when she sees that you love him as well.”

Christian’s cheeks turned red, and Shane thought there were quite a few
mights
missing from that sentence.

Kenny looked between the two younger men, at Christian’s stiffness and Shane’s drooping shoulders. “Well, there is always hope.”

Tom said, “There is, sometimes, only hope.” He squeezed Kenny’s hand. “Until, one day, suddenly, it is no longer needed.”