Yes (8 page)

“And your T-shirt. But you could have liked the movies and never read the books.”

“Oh, I’ve read the books. Several times. And seen the movies too.”

“What did you think of them?” Ryan asked.

“Jackson did a great job, for the most part. ‘The Scouring of the Shire’ is my favorite chapter. It’s the ultimate payoff for me, when they return all grown up and kick some major hobbit ass. I was kind of disappointed when it got cut from the last film. I understood why, but still.”

“Sean Astin ruined the whole thing for me. He sucked so bad it made my teeth hurt, and he got worse with each movie.”

“Have you seen
The Hobbit
?”

Ryan nodded. “It’s criminal—a step away from fan fiction—like a train wreck I couldn’t stop watching. That poor little story is going to collapse under the weight of all the bullshit Jackson keeps piling on top of it.”

“I agree,” Jeremy said. “When Legolas showed up in the second film, I almost gagged on my popcorn.”

“So you’re looking for your Samwise?”

Jeremy chewed on his crust. “I guess. I don’t know what to put on those profiles, but I figured I might as well be myself. I’m a math geek, I play Dungeons & Dragons, and my favorite TV show is
Arrow
.”

“Stephen Amell? What’s not to like? I hated Grant Gustin on
Glee
, but I love him as the Flash. I take it your familiarity with the San Diego Convention Center means you go to Comic-Con every year?”

“Guilty. I’ve never met another gamer I wanted to date, but I figured with a headline like ‘Looking for my Samwise’ I might at least meet a guy who likes guys like me.”

“How’s that working out?” Ryan asked.

“Terrible. Most of the messages I get are from old pervs who want to fuck me or flakes collecting dick pics. It seems like every other conversation starts with barebacking or PNP. Even the guys with ‘no hookups’ in their profile message me for a hookup.”

“What was that other thing you wrote?”

“Oh. ‘Out of my mind and into the light.’ I don’t know where that came from. I think I read it on someone else’s profile. I thought a quote from
The Lord of the Rings
would be a bridge too far.”

“So you went with something that sounds like Marianne Williamson instead?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Jeremy said. “I’m a very cerebral person, and I have this idea that the right guy would get me out of my head.”

“You should change it to ‘Out of my mind and into my pants, where you’ll find my nine-inch dick.’ I bet that would get you some attention.”

“Maybe. But not the kind of attention I’m looking for.”

“Have you dated anyone recently?” Ryan asked.

“No, not since I moved here. Bars aren’t my scene, and I seem to disappear on sites like Manhunt or Adam4Adam. Grindr is the only place I actually meet guys, and even then it’s rare and generally leads to nothing.”

“You need to find a nice boy and settle down.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

Ryan grinned and changed the subject. “How long have you lived in Austin?”

“Two years. I went to school at SMU and then taught in Dallas before I moved here.”

“You didn’t like the Big D?”

“No,” Jeremy said. “It’s too big for me, and the gay guys there are horrible to each other. Austin is more laid back and the perfect size.”

“It’s getting bigger every day. Have you heard the joke about the gay pickup lines in Texas?”

“No. Tell me.”

“You always know what city you’re in by going to a gay bar and listening to the pickup lines. In Houston, it’s ‘Do you want to go home?’ In Austin, it’s ‘Do you want to get high?’ And in Dallas, it’s ‘Why’d you wear
that
?’”

Jeremy laughed. “You pretty much nailed it. Who told you that one?”

“My uncle.” Ryan swallowed the last of his pizza and wiped his face with a napkin. “You want to spend the night?”

Jeremy looked surprised. “Really?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Hookups usually end after someone comes. I’ve never had pizza afterward, let alone been invited to spend the night.”

“Maybe you’re hooking up with the wrong guys.”

“Maybe,” Jeremy said. “I have to be at school at seven in the morning, so tonight’s probably not a good time.”

“You’re right. I forgot tomorrow is Tuesday and people have to work. I’m starting at La Tazza this weekend, so you should stop by if you want.”

“I’ll definitely do that. It was cool to meet you, Ryan. Knowing that guys like you exist gives me hope.”

“I enjoyed meeting you too, and you’re welcome to try and redeem yourself at the Ping-Pong table anytime.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably take you up on that. I just need to grab my shirt and shoes from the bedroom and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Jeremy finished dressing, and they said good-bye at the front door. Ian went into the kitchen and grabbed the bag of semi-crushed cookies from the pantry. He poured himself a glass of milk and returned to the living room. He flipped through his DVR menu, but nothing caught his eye. Sleep would be impossible. He ate a cookie and washed it down with a swig of milk.

This is the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to me
.

CHAPTER FIVE

I
AN
HAD
no intention of allowing Mark, who still used an iPhone 4, to pick out Ryan’s most important accessory. So the next morning, in direct defiance of Mark’s orders, he headed to a shopping center after the morning rush. An hour later, Ryan emerged from the Best Buy with a brand new Samsung Galaxy S5, which had only been on the market for less than a month. He couldn’t wait to show it to Matthew. The Best Buy happened to be located next to a GAP, and since Ryan needed new clothes, he went in and bought a pair of skinny jeans and a few shirts.

When he got home, he started a load of laundry and then used Ian’s phone to call Colleen. He lowered his voice and launched into the story about his ailing mom. He tried to sound distraught as he laid out his abrupt change of plans. Her concern made him feel bad, since his mother was probably playing golf or drinking mai tais with her friends. He told her about Ryan’s imminent arrival and emphasized she wouldn’t have to take on any additional responsibility. She assured him she could handle things for the next few days and looked forward to meeting his nephew.

In the evening, Mark came by with some pad Thai and a yellow curry from Titaya’s. Ian pulled some plates from the cupboard and opened a bottle of wine. As they sat at the kitchen island and ate dinner, Ian and Mark worked on expanding Ryan’s biography, including where he went to high school (Saint Augustine) and who he asked to the senior prom (no one—he went stag).

Ian took a sip of wine and grimaced. He went to the sink and poured the wine down the drain. He rinsed out the glass and then refilled it with milk. “Shouldn’t Ryan have a Facebook profile?”

“No,” Mark said.

“What do you mean, ‘No’?”

“How stupid would that look? He wouldn’t have any history or friends.”

“Oh,” Ian said. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Are you starting to appreciate the complex nature of this endeavor?”

“A little. But everyone’s on Facebook. How am I going to explain that?”

“Go in the opposite direction. Make Ryan an outlier and a rebel. He used to be on Facebook, but then he quit—he shut the whole thing down and deleted all his photos. There’s a twenty-something kid in my office who told me he did the same thing. It’s considered badass.”

Ian raised his middle finger. “Fuck you, Facebook.”

“Exactly. Fuck you, Facebook. Fuck you, Twitter. Fuck you, Instagram. Ryan is the first wave of a new generation—one that will unplug from social media.”

“I can sell that. And now that I think about it, the less of an online footprint he has, the better.”

“The fewer public lies he tells, definitely the better. Remember the prime directive.”

“Keep it simple,” Ian said.

“You’ll need an e-mail address, though.”

“That’s easy enough.”

Mark picked up a shrimp with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. “Keep Ian’s phone in the house. Only make calls on it from here. I can just picture a scene at La Tazza, where Colleen calls Ian and a phone in your backpack starts to ring.”

“Good point.” Ian told Mark about the pizza boy and Jeremy and driving to get Ryan’s phone. He told the whole truth, because withholding information from Mark, who he trusted more than anyone in the world, would only make things worse in the long run. As Ian suspected, Mark expressed concern about giving Ian’s number to Sam, but he reacted to the hookup with Jeremy in a surprisingly upbeat manner.

“You should do more of that,” Mark said. “Hookups are a great way to rehearse, and they’re like disposable razors. Use ’em and toss ’em. The more you practice being Ryan, the more convincing you’ll be when you start at La Tazza on Friday.”

“Use ’em and toss ’em? You are so cold sometimes.”

“Look, this is one situation where the fast-food nature of the hookup scene works in your favor. Chances are you’ll never see any of those men again, so if you screw up, who cares? No real harm done. Embrace it. And I don’t think I need to tell you to play safe, do I?”

Ian spooned some more pad Thai onto his plate. “No, you don’t need to tell me. But Jeremy seems to have quelled my thirst for Grindr hookups.”

“That didn’t take long. By the way, I should have your new ID by Thursday, but until then, stay off the road. Unless it’s on a bicycle. Honestly, who knows what would have happened if a policeman had pulled you over this morning.”

“I was careful.”

“Careful has nothing to do with it. Haven’t I told you police officers pull people over because they’re bored? They don’t need a reason, or if they do, they’ll make one up.”

“Nothing happened, but okay, I’ll stay off the road.”

Mark poured some curry sauce on his rice. “Have you decided if Ryan is a top or a bottom?”

“Can’t he be both?”

“No. I liked the story about the goalie. Ryan should be a top, like a young Topher DiMaggio.”

“Topher DiMaggio’s not young anymore?”

“God, no. He’s almost thirty.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “He bottomed once. I saw it.”

“One of the worst scenes ever filmed. The pained expression on his face?”

“That’s the only thing that made it hot.”

“Ugh. You would say that.”

Ian started picking around the curry bowl to find the remaining shrimp. “But I used to enjoy bottoming back in the day.”

“And how long has it been since someone fucked you?”

“Years.”

“See? You have the maturity of a good top inside the body of a twink. Use it to your advantage.”

Ian shook his chopsticks at Mark. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? A good top?”

“No, a twink.”

Mark waved his hand. “Please. You should be thanking the Lord someone’s calling you a twink. Look at you. Don’t make me slap you upside the head. Being a young top would work with Ryan’s whole outlier persona. The mental picture of him fucking the lacrosse goalie in the boys’ locker room? Hot.”

“That is so disturbing,” Ian said.

“It would give his character a little edge, if you really commit.”

“He’s not a part in a play.”

“Maybe not, but you should approach him like one.”

Ian grabbed a fork from the drawer to clean up the last of the rice. Mark finished his glass of wine and pushed his plate away. He went to the fridge for a bottle of water, then sat back down and said, “You’d better think carefully about these next few days, because the choices you make will affect the rest of Ryan’s life.” Mark took a long pause. “You do understand how this will eventually have to go down, don’t you? I know I haven’t spelled it out for you yet, but tell me you see what’s coming twelve moves ahead.”

Ian felt sick. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you want to go back and do it all over again, but this cover story still gives you an out. Everyone thinks Ian is alive and well in Arizona. He could conceivably come back at any time.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t even looked into it. We could call Tad. Maybe this isn’t permanent, or maybe Mrs. Brown can come up with a remedy and reverse it.”

“I told you, I don’t want to do that.”

“You don’t want to do that
now
, but things can change. The way I see it, you can play out this cover story for maybe three months, tops. After that, the separation between Ian and Ryan will become untenable. People won’t understand why Ian never visits. They’ll keep asking when he’s coming back. You won’t be able to sustain his absence forever.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Ian will have to….”

“What? Die?”

Mark laid his chopsticks down.

“That’s crazy,” Ian said.

“If you see another option, I’m all ears. My way, Ian has an accident in Phoenix, leaves La Tazza to Ryan, and you continue with his life.”

“Isn’t that illegal? Faking your own death?”

“Not per se. I looked it up. There’s the potential for fraud down the line, since you’ll be impersonating your nephew, but I can help with that.”

“My family would have to be in on it.”

Mark looked like he was thinking it over. “You’re probably right. You’d have to change your will and leave everything to the real Ryan Parker, but Jeff would have to know the truth, in order to protect your assets.”

“How do I convince them?”

“We’ll figure that out when the time comes,” Mark said. “They don’t have any plans to visit in the next three months, do they?”

“No, but you know my family. My parents especially love to surprise me.”

“Then you should call and tell them you’re going on a European vacation or something.”

Ian reached for the wine bottle and refilled Mark’s glass. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Not at all. Until you decide to fully commit to a future as Ryan Parker, your family is your greatest liability. Keep them away, whatever it takes.”

“God, this is complicated.”

Mark took a gulp of wine. “Imagine where you’d be if I wasn’t here.”