Chapter 13
JAMES
My alarm went off—a familiar, soft stroke of piano keys.
Chopin.
Imagine my surprise when I woke, for the second morning in a row, with an arm over my waist.
I was on my back already, so just a turn of my head revealed Lucas curled up against my side with his arm loosely slung over my body. I was instantly warmed by his presence, even if I also felt a bit sad that I wasn’t awake all night to enjoy it. He must have been stealthy when he snuck into my room.
For a brief moment, I wondered if he’d ever even kissed a guy before. He was young enough where it was possible either way.
I also seriously considered that he might actually be straight, and maybe I was just the closest thing he clung to for comfort. I imagined it had been a long time since Lucas could trust anyone as much as he apparently trusted me.
That realization made me feel very … important.
And necessary.
And needed.
As much as I hated to, I slipped out from under his arm and got out of bed. Pulling open my closet, I picked out my clothes for the day, then slipped into the bathroom to change and get ready. When I stepped out, Lucas had spread himself out on the bed, but still appeared to be asleep.
Fuck, that guy does something serious to me. My heart broke just watching him on that bed, lost in his dreams.
I almost called in sick to work just to crawl back into those sheets and cuddle him. I still could, I reasoned.
But I decided I’d been irresponsible enough for a weekend with my reckless decisions. I jotted out a note in red ink that I left on my nightstand, telling him that there were hard-boiled eggs in the fridge along with lunchmeats, lettuce, and other condiments if he wanted to make himself lunch. I even left cash on the kitchen counter with a couple menus and a note telling him he could order delivery if he wanted.
At first I left twenty. Then I put out forty. Then twenty, again, thinking I was overdoing it. Really, he’d just be ordering for one person, anyway.
Then I left forty.
I’m such a mess over him.
The bank was uncharacteristically still for a Monday morning, calm and uneventful. Walking past my coworkers as I made my way to my office, I felt a strange boost of confidence, knowing that Lucas was home in my bed sleeping. It was like I carried with me a special secret that no one else knew.
Lucas was my secret.
A secret I’m particularly proud of.
Lewis, his uniform looking more starched and crisp than usual, greeted me with a nod and a little wink as I passed by. The way he nodded made me worry for a second that Duncan blabbed to all my friends about my little secret, but seeing as Lewis didn’t look too unpleasant—any more than he always did, that is—I decided Duncan did, in fact, keep what I told him in confidence.
Speaking of the devil, Duncan called me between his first and second classes. “Alright. Tell me about this special man.”
I sighed and shook my head. “There’s not much to say. We’re still getting to know each other. It’s all new.”
“Is his dick a foot long?”
I frowned. “Duncan. Please.”
“Hey, you’re the one who ditched me Saturday. I’m fishing for the reason. What’s so special about this new guy of yours that you went all the way back to the Royal Flush a weekend early?”
“Listen, I’ll make up Saturday to you sometime. But—”
“Come on. I waited all night to hear from your ass. Now you’re gonna ice me out because I’m asking about your new guy?”
I ran a hand over my face. “Duncan, seriously …”
“Wait. Did something happen?” Duncan took on that superior, know-it-all tone he’d get. “Hah, knew it. Things fell through with your mystery casino boy. That’s why you’re being evasive. It didn’t work out. Did he give you the applause?”
“Applause?”
“The clap. I’m teaching English. I’m trying to be clever here, catch up, jeez.”
I snorted into the phone. “No, Dunc.”
It was too early in the morning to be talking about all of this, but he was between his classes, and we only had minutes before either his next students arrived or my next client came knocking on my door. Besides, it was nice to have someone in the know.
And also a little disconcerting. “He had a wife,” Duncan went on, shooting in the dark. “He ditched you for a younger boy. He was one of the go-go dancers at the Talisman. C’mon, spill it.”
If I couldn’t confide completely in trusty Duncan, then who else could I? Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to tell him. “I … I actually sort of hit it off with him. A lot.”
“Yeah? So what’s the issue?”
I lowered my voice. “I … brought him back. With me.”
“Well, I figured you did. With a hotel room all to yourself, you had full liberty to get your freak on.”
“No, no. Actually, I brought him back here.” I swallowed hard, feeling my throat tighten up in the silence while Duncan didn’t respond or react. “With me, Duncan. To my house. I brought him.”
“Oh, shit. Like, back to your house-house?”
“My house-house.”
If there was a straight equivalent to the “gay gasp”, he just did it. “You brought a total stranger from the casino back to your house??”
“There’s more. A lot more.”
“Well, you’re alive, so it can’t be all that bad. Does he live out here or something? Did he drive himself, or—? C’mon, I don’t have enough time to play the guessing game.”
I sighed. “He’s … still at my house.”
There was a long pause. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. And—”
“Like, alone? At your house? While you’re at work? What the fuck are you thinking?” He didn’t wait for answers. “He could be going through all your shit. He could be stealing things. I bet you never set up that twelve-cam security system your parents got you for Christmas, did you? Oh my God, dude, you’re so fucked.”
“Duncan. He’s not going to do any of that. We connected. He’s a … a very decent guy.”
“How can you possibly know that? You’ve known him a day.”
“I …” I forgot that Duncan also had a way of making me feel incredibly stupid and irresponsible. “I just do. He needs a place to stay, Duncan. He’s depending … depending on me.”
The more I tried to explain it, the stupider I sounded. There was no arrangement of words that made my decision sound any more mature or well-thought-out or smart.
The bottom line was: it was reckless. My choice to bring him home. My choice to indulge in his needs.
My choice to open my life and my door—literally—to a total stranger.
Except he wasn’t a stranger. Not anymore. Even in the space of a short couple of days, I felt a genuine connection with him, and I knew it was reciprocal. We had something between us.
Something …
“James, James, James.” He sighed into the phone. “Assuming he isn’t already halfway down the highway with all your valuables piled into a stolen K-Mart shopping cart, you need to take the rest of the day off and get that guy out of your house.”
I screwed up my face. “What? No.”
“Then I need to meet him. I need to see this guy for myself.”
“N-No freakin’ way,” I sputtered. “It’s too soon. Way too soon. Oh, and your K-Mart shopping cart imagery doesn’t make sense. Why the hell would he steal a cart from K-Mart when the nearest store isn’t for ten miles, and he doesn’t have a car, and even if—?”
“It’s called hyperbolizing, for Pete’s sake.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’ve lost your mind. Have you tried calling the house? To make sure he’s even still there?”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s there now, he’ll be there when I get home after four.”
“Dude. How long is he staying?”
I shrugged. “As long as he wants, I guess. Why?”
There was a pause. “Is he … Did he move in or something? I’m so fucking confused. Help me put this puzzle together.”
“Sort of. Just temporarily. He’s … between living situations right now.” That’s putting it kindly.
Duncan sighed. “James. I’m so anxious for you, you’re giving me ass sweat. What’re you gonna do with the dude if he’s still there Friday? You realize it’s our casino weekend, right?”
I froze, no answer coming to mind. “I … I guess I’ll …”
“Well, you can’t just leave him there, obviously.”
“No. I wasn’t going to. I’m …” Well, I already had my answer, I supposed. “I guess I’m … not going with you guys.”
“James! What the fuck?”
“You gotta cover for me. Please. I’ll just tell the rest of the guys I got a family thing.”
“Quinton will know you’re lying.”
“I’ll tell them I have a personal thing, then.” I sighed. “C’mon, Dunc. I will tell you more when I can, but I need to … see where this thing between us is going first. It’s very new. It’s exciting. It’s scary. Just let me have it, alright? Cover for me. Be my friend.”
He let out the longest most strained sigh I had ever heard. I’d told Duncan a lot of weird stuff over the years since our days in college and stranger days in high school, but this was probably the most outlandish, uncharacteristic thing I’d done to date. Duncan knew it, and he was clearly having a hard time processing it.
“Fine,” he finally mumbled. “Holy Jesus balls, you’re making it really difficult to be your friend right now.”
“A well-meaning Christian just turned over in their grave.”
“Because of ‘Jesus balls’? Sorry. I know your sister is hella Christian. Is that offensive to say?” he asked. “Hella Christian?”
“She’s just the garden variety Christian who bows her head before meals. The hella Christians are my neighbors.”
“I can’t believe you have some dude in your house right now.” Duncan let out a bark of laughter. “That new housemate of yours better have some kind of magic anaconda in his pants.”
“Have I ever mentioned how gay you sound?”
“I drink pink wine, teach English and Math, and haven’t had sex with a girl in over a year. I’m basically a gay guy with a fetish for straight women.”
“That’s not what a fetish is.”
“Says the careless loser with a stranger sleeping at his house.”
“Harsh. And you need to get laid. Maybe you can make that your priority this weekend when you’re with the guys, huh?”
“Thanks, Quinton,” he teased. “Like I haven’t heard that golden piece of advice ten thousand times.”
“See, now that is hyperbolizing, Mister English.”
“Students are showing up. Shoot me now.”
“I’ll shoot you next week. Don’t tell the guys.”
I hung up the phone and tossed it to my desk, then buried my face into my palms with a sigh. I wondered whether Duncan was right, or if his opinion would change if he actually met Lucas.
For that matter, would Lucas even want to meet my friends?
I knew that if Duncan brought some random woman back from the casino to live in his house, I would likely have given him the same sort of what-the-fuck spiel. Not to mention if he said his lady was homeless, then the stereotypes I knew of a homeless person would have paralyzed all my sense, and I’d only be able to imagine a dirty lady with bags full of junk hanging off her arms coming to stay at his quaint tiny apartment on Third and Bellview.
To me, Lucas didn’t look like a “homeless person”. He sort of destroyed that stereotype in a hot minute. He made me feel guilty for ever thinking of homeless people that way.
The truth Lucas unknowingly instilled in me was that every single person on the street had a story worth telling. It was so easy, so unassumingly easy, to forget the simple, obvious fact that homeless people were human beings, too.
That a drunken fool slumped over a card table at the Ebon Oasis, down on his luck, was a human being.
That the elderly folk at the local casino with the sticky slot machines were all human beings, despite their zombie eyes.
That a banker at a desk with a plastic smile he wore on his face all day long was a human being—a human being with a guy he barely knew living at his house, a guy who gave him fulfillment, a guy who made him feel alive.
And they all had stories.
And mine was about to start a whole new chapter.