Chapter Twenty-two
Tim called first thing the next morning. Ben was already up, and from the noise in the background, he seemed to be driving.
“Hello?”
“I dreamt about you last night,” Tim said.
“I don’t want to know,” Ben replied.
“You really don’t. Horribly obscene things happened.”
“I bet they did.”
“Worst of all, we were both wearing clown makeup.”
“Ugh.”
“I know.”
“I have to go,” Ben said, but he sounded amused.
The conversation was short, but it was a good start to Tim’s day. He called later in the afternoon between classes. The phone rang longer this time, and when Ben answered he sounded angry.
“How the hell do you turn the ringer off on this thing?” he grumped. “I got kicked out of class!”
“You took me to class with you? That’s so sweet! Tell me where you are, and I’ll come carry your books for you.”
Ben laughed. “I’m going back to class. Don’t call me again.”
“Then let me take you out tonight.”
“No, Tim.”
“Go-karts. Me and you. We need to finally settle our differences.”
“I have to wash my hair.”
The line went dead, but Tim wasn’t discouraged. That evening he went home, got gussied up, and was halfway to Ben’s duplex when he called again. “I’m picking you up in ten minutes. That’s enough time to brush your teeth, check the mirror, and get your butt to the curb.”
After a long pause Ben said, “Hurry up.”
He wasn’t waiting at the curb, but he did answer the door a few seconds after Tim rang the bell. Tim offered his arm, which was ignored, but soon enough Ben was in his car. If he could find a way to permanently lock the doors, he would have driven straight to Mexico and never looked back. Instead he made good on his promise and took him to a family fun center that had a lot more than just go-karts.
They were walking through the arcade, game cabinets buzzing and bleeping, when Tim put an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “High school, take two,” he said.
Ben smirked. “You couldn’t pay me to go back there again.”
“You sure? Five hundred bucks? A thousand?” The reaction to this was strangely awkward, so Tim tried again. “It wasn’t all bad. Junior year was pretty nice.”
Ben didn’t exactly sigh and lean into him, but he didn’t pull away, either. When they were out on the track, racing each other, Tim became frustrated. Usually he loved engaging in a miniature race, but not when it meant being separate. Then again, when he purposely lost near the end, Ben wore the same goofy smile as in the photo. Take that, new guy! I can make him happy too!
“Another round?” Ben asked when they were getting out of the karts.
“I can’t stand the humiliation of another loss. Besides, I owe you your prize.”
“Prize?”
“Yeah, the loser always buys the winner a beer.”
Ben shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I can afford it, trust me.”
Now Ben looked downright uncomfortable, but Tim couldn’t figure out why. “Still don’t drink?”
“I do. Not often, but occasionally.”
“Then let’s go.”
Tim supposed it would be like this for a while. Ben would have fun with him and get caught up in the past before remembering his current boyfriend. But eventually he would make a choice, and Tim was feeling more and more confident about what that choice would be. A couple of beers and some horrible chicken wings later, Tim was driving Ben home when the storm that had been hovering over the city finally broke, rain pouring down.
“Good.” Ben sighed in relief. “We need that!”
“We do?”
“I mean plants and things,” Ben explained, but Tim had already hit a button on the car’s console. “Hey, what are you doing?”
With a whirr of motors, the convertible top opened, letting the weather in. Ben shouted in shock, and Tim howled with laughter. Soon Ben joined him as they cruised through torrents of rain. They reached Ben’s home a few blocks later, but it was enough to thoroughly soak them both, Tim’s shirt and shorts plastered to his body.
“Mind if I come in for a towel?” he asked once the convertible top was up again.
“Allison is home.”
“So? Just think of what we used to do when your parents were home.”
“Ha.” Ben gestured toward the duplex with his head. “Come on. But in and out, okay?”
“Of course.”
Allison was on the couch watching TV when they entered. She didn’t look happy, shutting off the television and rising to have a hushed conversation with Ben. Tim idly examined the surroundings, feeling like a home wrecker. When the whispers became more like hisses, Ben broke away briefly.
“Wait in my room,” he said, pushing Tim in the right direction.
Perfect.
He didn’t find anything recognizable about Ben’s bedroom, the furniture and decorations completely different from those of their teenage years. With one exception. The painting Tim had given Ben for his birthday—two hearts overlapping—hung on a wall opposite the bed. Tim stared at it, part of him criticizing his work from so long ago, but the rest of him feeling elated.
He spun around when Ben came in, wanting to scoop him up into his arms. Instead he took inspiration from the towel Ben had fetched for him and started stripping off his wet shirt. Slowly.
For one fleeting moment, familiar lust made those brown eyes appear anything but innocent. Then Ben tossed him the towel and looked away. “I need you to go.”
Need. Not want. Tim dropped his shirt on the floor and towel-dried his hair. “Mind if I keep this? The car seats are pretty wet.”
“Sure.” Ben remained in the doorway, eyes on the carpet.
Just come closer, Tim thought. We both want this. “I had fun today,” he said. “Just like old times. Better maybe, since I’m hiding in your bedroom from Allison instead of the whole world.”
“It was a nice day,” Ben admitted.
“How about dinner tomorrow? You deserve a better meal than those chicken wings.”
Ben raised his head. “You broke my heart. You know that? I picked myself up and brushed myself off, but it never stopped hurting.”
Tim swallowed. “If it’s any consolation, I broke my own heart in the process.”
“Did you?”
Tim put his hand over his chest. “I swear. I won’t pretend to know what you went through, but I sent myself straight to Hell. I deserved everything I got, but you didn’t.”
Ben looked away, chewing his bottom lip. Tim struggled to find another way of expressing how much regret he felt, but there were no adequate words. He was sure he had lost when Ben said, “Maybe a quick lunch.”
“Deal!” Tim walked toward him, towel draped over one shoulder, and Ben stood aside for him to leave. That was okay. Tim showed himself out, nodding cordially to Allison on the way. Not bad for the first date. Not bad at all.
* * * * *
Tim had an enemy in Allison. A shame, since he really did like her, but her intent became obvious the next day. He met Ben for lunch on campus, which was nice, but not conducive to romance. When they made plans for that night, Tim knew they were on the fast track. He could feel the tension between them growing. A little more time spent together and the outcome was inevitable.
Then Ben called in the late afternoon to cancel, saying Allison needed a night out with him. Tim didn’t hold it against her. She was only trying to protect Ben from getting hurt again. She’d come around when she saw how happy Tim would make him. Instead of getting angry, he made further plans.
Saturday morning, Tim collected Ben and whisked him away to a nearby amusement park for another blast from their past. It wasn’t the same park they’d visited as teenagers, but it wasn’t so different either. They fell right back into their old routines, except this time Tim was desperate to touch Ben in public, to hold his hand or just put an arm around him. He didn’t, not wanting to move too fast, but Tim did mentally kick his teenage self around for all the missed opportunities.
The day was ideal, the sun steadily sinking, when Ben’s new guy found a way to ruin their fun, even from out of town.
“Samson!”
“Who?”
“Jace’s cat. I totally forgot to feed him today.”
Tim had forgotten the new guy’s name until Ben said it again. Jace hadn’t come up in conversation at all, and Tim had been happy to pretend he didn’t exist. Ben—well, who knew what he was thinking? But now they had to head back to Austin just to feed the damn cat.
“I hope Samson’s okay,” Ben fretted once they were back on the highway. “Usually I stay over there when Jace is out of town.”
“So why haven’t you been?”
This earned a thoughtful pause, but one that ultimately backfired on Tim. “I’ll crash there tonight. Gotta make sure the apartment looks nice before Jace comes home.”
“When’s that?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“So I have you to myself until then.” Tim glanced over at him. “We can do dinner tonight. We’ll feed the cat and then head out. My treat.”
“You don’t need to pay for everything,” Ben said. “I have money too, you know.”
“I can afford it.”
“How?”
That single word was loaded. Heavily. Come to think of it, Ben acted weird every time the topic of money came up. Tim’s stomach sank. He knew what people said about him at school. The rumors had started after he moved in with Eric. The following fall, the fraternity had sent their usual fund-raisers to the alumni, including Eric. Tim had answered the door, recognized one of the brothers, and told them they could go fuck themselves. The rumors had spread after that, lies that would explain Ben’s curious reactions.
“I inherited some money,” Tim said. “A lot, actually.”
“From who?”
“No one you would know,” Tim snapped. He regretted it and took a few steady breaths. “His name was Eric. He was a friend of mine. He died last year.”
“I’m sorry.” Ben paused. “Still, it’s a bit unusual. Inheriting money from a friend, I mean.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. Unless he was your sugar daddy or something.”
Tim felt his temper rising. “I guess Allison has filled you in on the rumors, then?” Why did people have to be so stupid? Maybe the situation was unusual, but that didn’t give them the right to cast judgment. Especially on Eric. He was amazing and wouldn’t have needed to buy anyone. Ever. “I guess there’s no point in telling you what you already know. Eric was rich, old, and gay. What else could it have been, right?”
Ben looked guilty. “I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s bullshit! People think the whole world revolves around sex and money, but they’re wrong. Eric was a good person and one of the best friends I ever had. All he ever wanted was friendship.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Yeah, you did, but it’s okay.” Tim exhaled. “I just get tired of what people say. They don’t know me. They take a couple of facts and warp them into something they can feel superior about.”
“Yeah, that does suck.” The hum of tires on the freeway accompanied an awkward pause. “So what’s the truth, then?”
Complicated, to say the least. Tim explained the parts of it he could, how Eric was like the father he’d always wished for. How they could spend hours just being in each other’s company and talking. And how, at the end, Tim found himself playing a role he never expected to. That part was much too complicated to express, so he kept it simple. No details, no breakdown of those final days. Tim had been his nurse. Simple as that.
“So sex was never involved?”
“No! Christ! Can’t gay people just be friends?”
“Sorry. It’s just the money thing—”
The money. Sometimes Tim felt like burning it all just to shut people up. “Yeah, well, what else was Eric supposed to do with it? He didn’t have any kids. Just a sister. She got most of it. I got a small part, which was still a tremendous amount. And the house. She didn’t want it, anyway.”
His little outburst made the rest of the drive awkward. It only got worse for Tim when he followed Ben into Jace’s apartment. He wished it was a horrible dump, cluttered by empty beer cans and smelling like a dirty litter box. Instead it was respectable and comfortable. Samson was cute, a gray furball who Tim felt gave him knowing looks. As soon as the cat was fed, Tim was eager to get Ben away from there, luring him back to the car with promises of dinner. But he needed to step up his game if Jace was due back tomorrow, and that meant finding somewhere private.
“Why don’t we avoid the crowds? We’ll go back to my place and I’ll cook for you.”
Ben’s spidey sense must have tingled. “Eh, I don’t know.”
“It’ll be cool.” Tim switched lanes without waiting for permission. “You’ll like it there.” As he took the next exit, he wondered if that would be true. He couldn’t imagine anyone but him and Eric in that house; the idea of Ben being part of the scenery seemed somehow surreal. But he had to try.
* * * * *
Ben sat on one of the bar stools, glancing around at the large kitchen, unaware that Tim watched him from the doorway. In front of Ben, the countertop held little except decorative bottles of oil. And a container of dry cereal, which had a surprising number of memories surrounding it. Eric loved a bowl of cereal in the morning. Tim always found this amusing. Eric had been such a food connoisseur, but in the mornings he went for artificially colored and heavily sugared cereals, usually with marshmallows. He would always sit where Ben sat now, Tim on the next stool over, as they munched away together.
“It’s a huge house,” Tim said, startling Ben as he walked into the room. “Too big for me. I plan on selling it and finding a place in Allandale, so don’t go getting used to it.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Allandale is a nice neighborhood, but I don’t know if you’re enough of a hippie to fit in there.”
True enough. Besides, Tim doubted he could really part with this place. He walked around the kitchen island and leaned against one of the counters.
Ben considered him. “So Eric lived here alone?”
“Yeah, when I first met him. It wasn’t long before he asked me to move in. Don’t give me that look! I can see what you’re thinking.”
“What would you think if anyone told you the same story? You have to admit it sounds fishy.”
“Yeah, I guess so. You believe me, right?”
Ben shrugged. “Why not? The world’s a crazy place.”
“I would have, though.”
“What?”
“Slept with Eric.” Tim kept his head held high, not ashamed of this confession. “If it would have made him happy, I would have, but he never even hinted at it.”
“Did you want to?”
“I don’t know.” Tim turned around and opened one of the cabinets, grateful for the excuse not to face Ben while he talked. “Sometimes you can’t tell your friends from your lovers, you know what I mean? The line gets kind of blurry. That’s how it was with me and Eric. Maybe if he wasn’t on so many meds he would have wanted something physical. Maybe not.”
“What was wrong with him?”
“Cancer. Multiple kinds, multiple places.”
“Geez.”
“Yeah.” Tim grabbed a handful of ingredients and turned to set them on the island. “Eric toughed it out until the end. He never complained, never felt sorry for himself. He had so much spirit. That’s why I can’t sell the place yet. I feel like he’s still here.” Tim stared at the tiled surface of the island, thinking how he’d give anything for one more shared breakfast there. When he noticed Ben watching him, he tried to sound chipper. “Anyway, what did you have in mind for dinner?”
“You don’t know how to cook, do you?”
Tim glanced down at the ingredients for the first time. Pineapples and pasta? Brown sugar and rice? Tim laughed. “No, I don’t, but I had to get you here somehow. We could do delivery. Or we could get nostalgic and you could cook for me. I’ll even lay myself out on the couch and pretend my ankle is jacked up.”
“Tim—” Ben’s warning tones matched his expression.
“Too far? Sorry. I just wanted you to see my home, since it’s so connected to my past.” And because he hoped Ben would be part of its future. “You being here really livens the place up. I wouldn’t mind you visiting more often. Bring Jace along. I’d love to meet him.”
Ben scrutinized him. Okay, so maybe Tim was laying on the nice guy act a little thick.
“All right,” Ben said. “I’ll cook, but you have to help. I don’t care how rich you are, everyone should know how to make at least one meal. What have you got here?”
“Just a bunch of canned stuff.” Most of it had been in the cabinets when Eric was alive. “Uh, you better check the expiration dates. I eat a lot of take-out.”
Ben was at his side, rustling through the counters. “Canned tomatoes—these are still good. Where are the spices?”
Tim followed Ben around, discovering cupboards he’d forgotten about, which was refreshing. Eric used to cook with these things, and now Ben would too. Tim liked that.
“Seriously? No onions?”
“I think there are green ones in the herb garden out back.” Automatic sprinklers watered those. “Lots of things grow wild out there, if you know what you’re looking for.”
They raided the garden, tearing leaves off different plants to taste them and laughing about getting poisoned, but they found some familiar flavors and the onions. Ben fired up the oven, put a pan on the flames, and threw in some olive oil. He made Tim wash and slice the onions while he put water to boil on another burner.
“Toss the onions in and stir them around,” Ben commanded like a drill sergeant. “Now the can of tomatoes and the spices.”
“Yes, sir!”
Then Ben started stirring the concoction with a wooden spoon. “I learned to cook when taking care of you,” he said.
“Seriously?”
Ben nodded, smiling at the memory. “You didn’t notice? For two whole weeks everything you ate was either burnt or undercooked. I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m surprised you survived.”
“I remember it all tasting good.”
“Must have been the painkillers.” Ben glanced over at him, his eyes shiny. “I loved taking care of you.”
“Well, you know where I live, and I’m still needy as hell.”
“It’s different now,” Ben said.
“Exactly.” Tim came up close behind him. “So is there a trick to stirring? Let me try.”
He moved his arms around Ben, who let go of the wooden spoon before Tim could place his hand over his.
“Seriously?” Ben said. “That tired old move? Stir away.”
Tim took the spoon and jabbed at the sauce. “I don’t know how.”
“Oh, come on!”
Tim moved forward, their bodies in full contact now. “Guide my hand.”
“So lame!” Ben shook his head, but then he put his hand over Tim’s.
And it felt so damned wonderful. Ben made a little effort to stir, but Tim let go of the spoon, splaying his fingers and inviting Ben to interweave his own. Ben moved his hand away and rolled to the side to free himself from his embrace. He didn’t look angry though. Instead his skin was flushed.
“Keep stirring,” he said.
“I’m not really hungry,” Tim tried.
“But I am, and you promised me dinner.”
“I suppose I did.” Tim stirred, but kept his eyes on Ben. “You should come by more often, maybe in the morning. I miss those burnt waffles you used to make.”
“They were pancakes,” Ben protested, “and I thought you didn’t remember my food being bad!”
Tim nodded at the pot. “It’s starting to come back to me.”
Ben laughed and shook his head, pushing Tim aside so he could resume cooking, tasting and adjusting the sauce, and testing the noodles. When he was satisfied he drained the water. “Grab some plates.”
“Nah, just throw the pasta in the sauce and we’ll eat it here. That’s what I do sometimes with mac and cheese. Eat it straight out of the pot right here at the stove.”
Ben stared at him. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You feel sorry for me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Misery loves company. Grab a couple forks from that drawer and join me.”
As it turned out, the food wasn’t much better than the instant food Tim occasionally wolfed down, but the process had been fun. They attacked the pot, occasionally sword fighting with their forks, and snacking away until most of it was gone.
“I wish it could be like this every day,” Tim said.
Ben toyed with a few leftover noodles in the pot. “This used to be my dream.”
“And I ruined it. Do you ever regret it?”
“What?”
“The time we had together.”
Ben snorted. “Are you kidding? Never. Not once.”
Tim straightened up. “Really? I figured you hated me for what I did.”
“I never hated you. I just hurt. When we were together—” Ben exhaled. “Don’t let it go to your head, but even when it was bad, it was good.”
Tim leaned forward, ready for a kiss, but Ben returned his attention to the stray noodles in the pot. So much for Lady and the Tramp. Maybe dessert would work better than pasta. Tim went to the freezer. “I know I have some ice cream in here somewhere.”
“I really need to get back to Jace’s.”
“Aw, you can’t leave. You haven’t even done the dishes yet!” Tim winced from Ben’s glare. “Only kidding. Geez! There is a pool here, you know. We could go for a swim, have a couple of beers. You can even crash here.”
Ben scoffed. “I don’t think so!”
“Your virtue will remain unchallenged, Princess, you have my word.” Not true. “There are two guest rooms. Take your pick. I’ll even sleep in the car.” Also not true!
But Ben was adamant. Short of pouncing on him and taking him on the kitchen floor, Tim’s only option was to give in and drive Ben back to Jace’s. He pulled up to the apartment, wondering if he should walk Ben to the door, but of course being close to the lair of the enemy probably wouldn’t help his chances.
“Thanks for the last couple of days,” Tim said. “I know I went a little overboard, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had someone like you around.”
Ben shifted in his seat. “I liked it too, but I’m also looking forward to Jace coming home tomorrow.”
“Hint taken.” Unwillingly. What if Jace being back in town put an end to their little reunion? “I’m serious about meeting him. The man behind the legend and all that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
Where a goodbye kiss should have been was a nervous chuckle. Then Ben was out of the car, released back into the world. If you love somebody, set them free…