Something Like Winter (23 page)

Tim shook his head. “They
don’t deserve it.”

“
You’re one of them, and I
think you do. Besides, won’t someone notice it missing?”

“
I don’t care.”

“
But I do,” Eric said,
shoving it in his hand. “Please. I can’t stand the thought of you
living without air conditioning or a roof over your
head.”

They laughed together, and
Tim gave in. He would accept the donation, but he wasn’t going to
let his brothers bad-mouth Eric again. Maybe he could even find a
way to stop them telling that horrible story. Of course he would
need to know the truth first.

“
I’m holding you to that
non-date,” Tim said.

“
You name the hour, I’ll
choose the place.”

“
Okay.” Tim nudged him
playfully. “Don’t stand me up!”

“
The pretty ones are always
the most insecure,” Eric teased.

They said goodbye, and
despite how crappy the day had started, Tim grinned most of the
drive home.

* * * * *

Tim was dozing off when
something thudded against the door to his room. From the snort and
the hissing laughter that followed, the smart money was on Travis.
His country boy crush had made himself scarce the last couple of
days. Tim hadn’t seen him at all Monday or Tuesday, even though
there were little signs in their room that Travis had come in late
and gotten up early, just to avoid him.

But now Travis had
abandoned these tactics, stumbling into the room, shutting the door
behind him with a bang, and tromping over to Tim’s bed. Keeping his
back to the room, Tim was determined to ignore the racket, but a
heavy weight fell halfway on top of him.

“
Are you sleeping?” Travis
said, throwing an arm around him. His breath smelled like rubbing
alcohol.

“
No.” Tim replied,
straining to breathe. Travis was heavy!

“
I’m sorry.” Travis kissed
his neck, his lips sloppy and wet. “I just got a little scared. I
want to be with you.”

The way he ground his
crotch against Tim’s back left little question as to what he
wanted. They were entering familiar territory, but Tim wasn’t eager
to return there.

“
Let me up. I have to take
a piss.”

“
And then you’re coming
back?” Travis slurred.

“
Yeah.” The weight rolled
off him. Tim got out of bed, surprised by how wasted Travis looked.
His hair was a mess, mud smeared one cheek, and a couple leaves
were stuck to his shirt, like he had just crawled out of the
gutter. Tim started unbuttoning Travis’s shirt, the fabric damp in
places with something strong, like whisky.

“
You get naked too,” Travis
said.

Tim was wearing only a pair
of flannel boxers, so he wouldn’t have far to go, but he focused on
undressing Travis instead. Then, dodging a few kisses, Tim managed
to get him over to his own bed. Travis wouldn’t lie down
completely, instead reaching out and trying to pull Tim down with
him.

“
I have to pee,” Tim
reminded him. “I’ll be right back.”

“
Hurry.” Travis fell
backward carelessly.

“
I will.” Tim left the room
and slid to the floor with his back against the closed door. Travis
was drunk enough that he should pass out quickly. All Tim had to do
was wait.

They couldn’t do this
anymore. Nothing would change if Tim allowed Travis to use alcohol
as an excuse to do what he wanted, to be who he really was.
Besides, it wasn’t gratifying to be with someone who would only
sleep with him when wasted. Even though Tim’s body wanted to give
in, he was cutting Travis off. They could be together sober or not
at all.

When he was sure enough
time had passed, Tim quietly reentered the room to a chorus of
nasal snores. Travis still lay above the sheets, so Tim took the
blankets from his own bed and covered him. Then he lay down next to
his country boy and held him—just for a little while.

Chapter
Fourteen

When Tim pulled up to
Eric’s house on Tuesday, another car waited in the driveway.
Parking next to the old Honda Civic, he wondered if someone would
be joining them for dinner. He was halfway up the front walk when a
middle-aged woman with brown curly hair and a plump frame left the
house. She appeared distracted as she dug in her purse for keys, a
manila folder stuffed with papers pinned beneath one
arm.

“
Hi,” Tim said, mostly so
she wouldn’t run into him.

“
Oh! Hello!” She looked him
over once, her face flushing slightly before she continued on her
way.

Tim looked back while
waiting for Eric to answer the door, nodding at her as she pulled
out of the driveway.

“
I thought she would never
leave!” Eric said. “Come in, come in. I’m running late because she
never stops chatting.”

“
Friend or family?” Tim
asked.

“
Neither.”

Eric led Tim to a grand
kitchen. Pots and pans hung everywhere like decorations, all
gleaming as if they were polished every morning. Tim noted a pair
of ovens, an electric grill, and a refrigerator so tall and wide
that a small family could live inside.

Leaning against the island
in the room’s center, Tim whistled in appreciation. “You like to
entertain?”

“
Ask me that again next
week. I’ll be right back. I have to run upstairs and get changed.
Help yourself to a drink, if you’d like.”

Tim checked the
refrigerator, mostly just to waste time. Every shelf was crammed
with food. How many people lived here? Eric was about Ben’s size,
so it was hard to imagine him packing away all these munchies.
Closing the refrigerator, he strolled around the room, running his
hands along the marble countertop. When Eric came back downstairs,
he wore a maroon dress shirt and gray slacks the same color as his
hair. A fresh puff of cologne followed in his wake. Tim was wearing
the same T-shirt and jeans he had thrown on in the
morning.

“
Are we going somewhere
fancy?” he asked self-consciously.

“
Yes,” Eric said, “but
don’t worry. The restaurant is so expensive that it’s actually
comfortable.” He laughed at his own joke before adding, “Would you
mind driving?”

“
No problem.”

They made small talk on the
way to the restaurant, Eric just as curious about Tim as he had
been the night before. Between asking about his car, what classes
he was taking, and anything else that came to mind, Eric gave
directions, leading them to a corner of downtown Austin that looked
run-down. They pulled in behind a building where a small parking
lot held expensive cars. Tim never would have guessed a restaurant
was here. Aside from stenciling on a tinted glass door, it had no
outside sign.

“
What is this?” Tim
asked.

“
A place where a master
works his magic.”

The door swung open for
them as they neared the entrance. A stiffly dressed maître d’
invited them inside, his tidy little mustache wiggling. “Mr.
Conroy, Mr. Wyman, please, right this way.” The only thing missing
was the French accent.

The inside of the
restaurant wasn’t at all what Tim expected. Eric was right about
the comfort. Instead of starched white tablecloths and confusing
cutlery, rustic tables were surrounded by plush chairs. Only six
tables were visible in the low lighting, each separated by plants
or dressing screens to provide privacy.

“
How did he know my name?”
Tim asked as soon as the maître d’ seated them and glided
away.

“
He asked when I made the
reservation.”

“
How did you
know?”

“
Your last name? I found it
on the fraternity’s website.”

Tim stared at
him.

“
Are you surprised an old
man can use a computer,” Eric asked, “or are you disturbed that I
stalked you?”

“
A little of both,” Tim
said before laughing.

“
Champagne?” The maître d’
had reappeared, popping open a bottle with flair, the cork blasting
away into the shadowy restaurant. People were lucky not to lose an
eye here! Tim would have to remember to duck if anyone else was
offered champagne. Golden bubbles filled their glasses before the
maître d’ bustled away. Apparently he would be their waiter as
well. Hell, he could even be the chef, as small as this place
was.

“
Here’s to new
friendships,” Eric said, raising a glass.

Tim toasted him, feeling a
little overwhelmed. He wondered if that was the intention. As nice
as Eric seemed, gay was gay, and Tim hadn’t met a gay guy yet who
didn’t find him attractive. “So, uh, where are the
menus?”

“
There aren’t any.” Eric
took another swig, gave a satisfied smack, and set down his glass.
“Whatever Jeffery cooks is what we get. You aren’t a vegetarian,
are you?”

“
No.”

“
That’s the one exception
he’ll make. Trust me, we’re in good hands.” Eric, elbows on the
table, rested his chin on his hands. “So, how are you and Travis
doing?”

“
Oh no you don’t!” Tim
said. “This dinner was supposed to make up for me blabbering about
my problems. It’s my turn to ask you questions.”

“
Oh, I’m
boring.”

“
I doubt that!”

“
Very well.” Eric smiled.
“I can’t promise you honest answers, but give it your best
shot.”

“
Do you live
alone?”

“
Yes.”

“
But your house is
huge!”

“
It didn’t feel that way
five years ago.”

“
So there was someone
else?”

Eric coughed, taking
another sip of champagne to soothe his throat. “Excuse me. Yes,
there was someone else. Gabriel, the love of my life. I built that
home for the both of us. He left all the details to me, happy with
how I threw myself into it. I had just decided to retire, and I
think he worried I would become a different person, but I attacked
the project with just as much gusto as I did our work.”

“
You guys worked
together?”

“
Mm-hm. Our relationship
was very much career-based. We were both stockbrokers. Gabriel had
the connections and clients, and I had the foresight to invest in
little-known technology companies that have now become household
names.”

“
Microsoft?” Tim
guessed.

“
Among others. We got rich
and made our clients even richer. I was happy to become
independently wealthy, but Gabriel—” Eric shrugged. “We lived in
that house together for six years, and it was one of the happiest
times of my life. That’s all that matters.”

The first course
appeared—an appetizer that looked more like modern art than food.
Delicately arranged cubes were decorated with sprigs and savory
syrups. Tim couldn’t tell exactly what they’d been served, but as
soon as the first bite was in his mouth, the food was so delicious
he decided he didn’t care if he was eating poodle.

“
So what happened?” Tim
asked.

“
You’ll have to be more
specific than that,” Eric teased. “My life is twice as long as
yours.” He peered at Tim. “Oh god, maybe even three
times!”

Tim grinned. “With you and
Gabriel. Did he run off with the pool boy?”

“
The pool boy,
yes.”

“
Dude! Sorry! I was trying
to be funny.”

“
So was I.” Eric winked.
“It wasn’t the pool boy, but it was a much younger man. Gabriel
didn’t take to retirement. He kept working as a broker, only from
home, which isn’t the same as being in the thick of it on Wall
Street. Myself, I didn’t see the point. Once you’re rich, what’s
the sense in getting richer? But what I failed to understand was
Gabriel’s need for a challenge. Eventually he met someone who
became that challenge.”

“
That sucks.”

Eric shrugged but then
nodded. “At least the young man was stunningly handsome. Somehow
that made it almost forgivable. Why, he could have given you a run
for your money.”

“
Impossible!” Tim said
mockingly. This made Eric laugh, which was good, but he felt bad
for the guy. “Sounds really shitty. How long were you
together?”

“
Seventeen years. It was a
good run. And yes, for the first few years apart, it was shitty,
but I’ve made my peace. Knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t have it
any other way.” Eric gave a brave smile and tackled his
food.

Tim joined him, considering
the similarities of their stories. More than once, Tim had given
himself the same pep talks—saying it was for the best that he had
split up with Ben, because Tim couldn’t give him what he needed.
Ben had surely found his Prince Charming out there, someone who
could be as bold and open and as wonderful as Ben was. Someone
better.

Just the thought made his
stomach tight. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

“
What?”

“
That you’re happy with how
things turned out.”