Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8) (31 page)

William laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Sorry, but I’ve really got to go.”

“It’s fine,” Jason said, standing and walking with him toward the mall entrance. “I hope my story didn’t bum you out. The important thing is, no matter how bad the heartbreak, you will recover. Hearts can take a beating and
keep on
beating.”

“You speak from experience?”

Jason smiled and held open the door for him. “Yes, but this most recent guy, he might be the one who finally does me in.”

William licked his lips, which had gone dry. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Try and stop me.”

That pretty much summed up Jason. He was unstoppable. But so was Kelly. William pictured them like two elemental forces, equally matched in power, a stalemate that only William could break.

* * * * *

William sauntered out of the Military Entrance Processing Station, head held high. As soon as the door behind him closed, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He leapt, punching the air with a fist as he let out a “Yaaaaahooooo!” Then he remembered Kelly and worried about celebrating so openly. That is until he saw his boyfriend crutching across the parking lot, wearing a smile just as big as his own.

“You passed,” he said, meeting him halfway.

“Yeah,” William confirmed.

Kelly’s face lit up. “I’m proud of you!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I be?” Kelly stopped in front of him. “It’s just a formality now. You’re as good as accepted.”

“We don’t know that,” William said.

“I have no doubt. I’m happy for you. You’ve earned this.”

William took in the shining eyes, the goodwill between them almost tangible, and spoke without thinking. “I wish we could always be this way.”

Kelly looked surprised, but not confused. “That wouldn’t make leaving easier, would it?”

“No,” he admitted. “If we could go back to this, I think I would stay.”

Kelly chuckled warmly. “I don’t believe that for one second. Even before the accident, you were already married to the Coast Guard. I’ve always been the other woman in this love triangle.”

He had the geometry right. Just not the participants.

“I’m going to get my shit together,” Kelly continued, moving closer. “When you’re gone, I’ll have to decide what I want to do with my life. That should help iron out the wrinkles. Oh who am I kidding? I’ll always be a bitch, but I think getting my life in order will let it return to being an occasional eruption instead of never-ending lava.”

“You’ve definitely got a way with words,” William said, struggling to find any of his own.

Kelly smirked. “I’ve got more than just words for you. Not here though. These lips have the power to disqualify you, don’t they?” He said this in good humor, not snidely, when normally the closeted nature of the military was a point of contention between them.

As for William, he was grateful for the excuse not to kiss. Doing so would feel like cheating… on someone other than his boyfriend.

Chapter Fourteen

Digital maps offer no solid frame of reference. Locations can be made to appear close or far apart just by zooming in and out, the terrain conveniently flat. When William went online and calculated a route to Jason’s home, he realized that he would be biking for the better part of an hour. The map failed to inform him of the increasing heat, reckless drivers, or steady uphill incline. He missed his destination the first time, having to backtrack to find the long driveway. Once on it, the road wound through lightly wooded land that opened to reveal a house in the distance. The dwelling was two stories high with a separate garage off to the left. Considering that Tim drove a Bentley, William had expected a mansion.

He pedaled to the front door, leaned his bike next to it, and seriously considered ducking behind the garage to change clothes. His muscle shirt was soaking wet, as was much of his body, a problem fresh clothes would do little to hide. What he needed was a shower. He rang the bell, still trying to catch his breath as he waited. When it swung open, Jason was on the other side, looking much fresher in a navy blue T-shirt and white shorts.

“You weren’t kidding about living far away,” William said, sweat trickling down from his drenched hair. “Great workout, but I can’t meet your family like this.”

“My friends,” Jason corrected, “and they won’t care.”

“I have a spare outfit with me.” William unslung his backpack. “Maybe I could take a shower?”

Jason glanced back and grimaced. “I can’t sneak you past them. They’re all in the living room, desperate to meet you.”

“Oh.” William thought of the garage again. “Is there a faucet out here? I could hose off real quick. I’d rather meet them soaked in water than in sweat.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay. We’ll have to go around back.”

Jason led him around the house and opened the gate of a privacy fence. Then he crept ahead, attention on the sliding glass door. He waved William forward after making sure they wouldn’t be seen. As soon as he saw the garden hose, William went for it, eager to feel the cool water on his skin. He ditched his shirt, kicked away his shoes, and peeled off his socks. Funny how often he and Jason began their time together by taking off their clothes, albeit usually in a locker room and not a backyard. William held the hose above his head, letting the water course over his shoulders and soak through the nylon shorts he wore, knowing they would dry quickly in the heat. Jason stood not far away, watching with a mixture of amusement and interest, so William pressed his thumb against the hose’s nozzle, forcing the water to spray and playfully using it first on one armpit and then the other.

Jason’s eyes darted away. Then he froze.

“Oh my goodness!” declared a husky voice. “Apollo has descended, and here I am without my camera! This is exactly the sort of scene that can’t be faked!”

William spun around to discover a small audience. He instantly recognized Tim, who wore a puzzled expression. Next to him stood a large man, dark hair thinning in some areas and graying in others. He was currently clapping his hands like a delighted child. Was this Ben? The jeweled rings and sharp clothing implied money. Maybe Tim was a kept man, which would explain the Bentley. That just left a shorter guy with brownish blonde hair. His build was slight, his brown eyes friendly as he stepped forward. Unlike the larger man, he kept his attention above shoulder level.

William tossed aside the hose and extended a hand. “Uh, hi! I was really sweaty and… Um.”

“William!” the shorter man said, expression bright. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m—”

A squelching noise cut him off, caused by William’s wet palm.

“Sorry!”

“—Ben,” the man finished, letting go to wipe the hand off on his jeans.

“Oh!” William said, looking to the remaining stranger. “Then who is—”

“Marcello Maltese!” Ben was bumped aside by the larger man’s bulk. “What a delightful way to make a first impression! The next time I meet a boy’s family, I shall do exactly the same.”

William stared, the blood rushing to his cheeks as Marcello continued to look him over while pumping his hand up and down. “I’m so embarrassed,” he managed.

“No need to be,” Ben said, gently stopping the endless handshake and prying away Marcello’s fingers. “Why don’t we all go inside and let William finish getting refreshed. Do you need a towel or anything?”

“I think I’m okay,” he replied. “Thanks.”

Ben pulled on Marcello’s arm, and when this failed to budge him, gestured at Tim to help. The extra muscle did the job, and the trio returned inside.

“I don’t suppose we can make a run for it?” William said as he put on his spare clothes. “That was beyond humiliating.”

Jason snorted. “You compete wearing less than that. If anything, you were over-dressed. Come inside and meet everyone properly.”

He preferred to remain outside to dry out, but he could hardly follow this weird debut with an impromptu sunbath. “Who’s the older guy?” William asked, stuffing his sweaty clothes into a plastic bag and then his backpack.

“Marcello?” Jason asked. “I don’t think I could explain him even if I spent the whole day trying. Just think of him as a creepy uncle. That’s close enough.”

As soon as they were inside, a small bulldog greeted them. He was more prepared for this, having visited Jason at the store where he worked and choosing a present for each of the pets that lived here. “I’ve got something for you!” William said, sitting on the floor. “It’s a…” he hesitated. “A dong?”

“Oh my!” Marcello declared, fanning himself in one of the plush chairs.

“It’s a Kong,” Jason said with a chuckle.

“Right,” William said, his face feeling like he’d gotten too much sun on the ride over. “Anyway, you fill it with treats, which I already did, and the dog has to get them out.”

“Chinchilla loves those,” Tim said enthusiastically. “She took the old one with her everywhere. We lost it during a walk. I kept meaning to buy another. Whoa, watch your fingers!”

Chinchilla harrumphed and forcefully took the Kong from him, shaking it around to dislodge some kibble.

“I also have this,” he said, holding up a bag of catnip.

“I believe I have rolling papers in my car,” Marcello said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s for Samson and not you,” Ben said, joining him on the floor. “Try shaking it and I’m sure he’ll make an appearance.”

William did just that. A gray cat with orange eyes appeared from under the couch and came toward him eagerly. Samson slowed a little when he got close, but after smelling William’s hand, focused entirely on the bag. “I actually don’t know how this stuff works,” he admitted. “We never had pets when I was growing up. My mom has an aversion to poop.”

“I know of at least one relationship cut short for that exact reason,” Marcello offered helpfully.

Ben ignored him with practiced patience. “Just sprinkle some right on the floor. He’ll want to roll around in it.” Once Samson was gleefully twisting in the catnip, Ben looked up and smiled. “How considerate of you to bring presents! Thank you!”

“I wanted to bring a bottle of wine for you guys too,” William said. “My mom didn’t like that idea, but she did send some cookies along.”

“Dibs!” Tim said, snatching the Tupperware container when William pulled it out of his backpack.

Ben looked exasperated. “If you were worried about making a good first impression, don’t be. I wish I could say my boys aren’t usually this ill-behaved, but I’d be lying.”

“He loves us,” Tim said, mouth already half-full of oatmeal cookie.

“I wouldn’t put up with them otherwise,” Ben said, tickling Samson’s tummy. “Jason says you live on the other side of the river. That must have been some bike ride!”

“It was.” William still felt hot from the exertion. “I probably stink. Do you mind if I finish getting cleaned up?”

“Not at all!” Ben said. “There’s a bathroom by the front door, or if you need more than a sink—”

“You can use mine,” Jason said. “I’ll show you.”

He led them to the other side of the living room, where a door led to an enclosed stairway. Once upstairs, Jason pointed out his bathroom, the first door on the right.

They stopped outside of it, like they were on a front porch, jittery as they tried to negotiate a goodnight kiss.

“—fresh towels under the sink,” Jason was saying. “You can use my body wash if you want. Not that you need a shower. I think you smell fine. Ha! God, that sounds weird. You know what I mean, right?”

“No,” William teased, glad to see he wasn’t the only one feeling nervous. “I’ll call if I need any help.”

Jason perked up at this. “You do that!”

“So I’ll meet you downstairs when I’m through?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah. See you soon.”

Jason wavered a second longer, then walked toward the stairs. William shut himself in the bathroom, taking in the cluttered counters. He noticed a bottle of cologne, sniffed it and recognized Jason’s scent, or at least the one he’d bought after Tim refused to share his. The neat-freak in him checked the shower next, happy to see it was clean. Then he made himself presentable. Hosing off outside preempted the need for a shower, but he put on fresh deodorant and switched the nylon shorts for a denim pair and some boxer briefs. The underwear was an expensive brand, a Christmas present from Kelly. William paused, thinking of the argument that had started the day. Kelly had pulled every trick to stop him from going on this picnic.

“I won’t abandon any more friends for you,” William had snapped at one point.

Kelly responded by insisting he hang out with Lily instead, but that’s not what William wanted. Not today. He wanted to spend time with the guy downstairs. He hurried to finish, washing his face in the sink, and just before he left, sprayed on a puff of Jason’s cologne. That made him feel naughty, a smile on his lips as he hustled down the stairs. The living room was empty. Nearly.

“The sun may disappear,” Marcello said, “but it is always destined to shine again. One must simply wait.”

“Hey,” William said, not having a clue how to respond to something like that.

Marcello was still seated in the same plush chair. He raised a narrow glass, the liquid inside an orange color. “Care for a mimosa? Ben insists they are healthier, but I can’t agree since I find myself drinking twice as much for the same result.”

“Does it contain alcohol?” William asked.

Marcello smiled. “I never answer that question truthfully. Not when handsome young men are involved.”

William took note of the nearest exits. Just in case. “Where are the others?”

“Preoccupied.” Marcello gestured to the nearby couch. “Won’t you keep me company until they return?”

William took a seat, trying to remember if Jason had mentioned this person previously. That might help him figure out how to make conversation. As it turned out, Marcello was willing to do the work for him.

“I remember the first time I was introduced to the masking qualities of orange juice. Are you familiar with screwdrivers? I don’t mean the tool. No? Well, when mixed correctly, the cocktail involves a fair amount of vodka. I wasn’t as fond of drinking back then, being nearly as young as yourself. When I told my date I didn’t care to drink, he offered a screwdriver as an alternative. Despite his ruse, I could still taste the vodka, but not enough to mind. Or complain. He was a very rich man with influential friends, and I found that enviable back then. The party my date had brought me to was in a mansion filled to the brim with beautiful people. Funny then, that I should find myself so taken by one young man. He wasn’t handsome exactly. I don’t remember his name, and my memory of his face fades with each passing year. What I
do
recall is how much I enjoyed his company. He was delightfully clever, making me clutch my sides in laughter. I snuck away as often as I could to spend time with him. I knew he found me attractive, but sadly, I was still burdened by the ideals of youth and wanted to remain loyal to my date. Even alcohol couldn’t loosen my convictions.”

William found himself leaning forward. “So what happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure. My head was spinning by this point, having had one too many. I might have kissed him. Perhaps I only wish I had. I do know that I went home with my date that night, and well, that’s not a story worth telling. Unlike my mystery man, I
can
remember all the relevant details about him, but it seems terribly unfair because he meant nothing to me. I only think of him in context of this story. Why can’t I remember the name of this other person or see his face when I close my eyes? Decade after decade, I’ve thought back to a man I can’t truly remember. Isn’t that silly? I blame myself. That night I took a road that led to a dead end, all because of a false sense of nobility. I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had I listened to my heart instead. Would he and I still be together? Would I be any happier now? I’ve met so many people since then. Why does this one stay with me?”

“Have you ever tried to find him?”

Marcello shook his head, jowls matching the motion a split second later. “No. What I know now, and failed to understand then, is how transient these things are. When opportunity presents itself, it never waits long for an answer. I failed to act that night, or the next day, or the next week. I wouldn’t know where to begin to find him now, or if we’d even still find each other’s company so pleasing. No, that road is closed to me. All I can do is learn from my mistake. Or perhaps you could learn from it instead. Consider it a cautionary tale. The next time your heart asks such a question, remember this old man filled with regret and—”