Chapter Twenty-three
Waiting should always be avoided. Good or bad, confronting the future is better than torturous anticipation or crippling dread. Tim called Ben early the next morning with the intent of talking him into cutting class. There was no answer. He tried again closer to lunch. Still no answer. With Jace due back in the evening, Tim was forced to wait and wonder.
He didn’t remember how long Jace and Ben had been together. Perhaps he had tuned out that information. Regardless if their relationship had lasted years, months, or even just a few weeks, they would most likely celebrate their reunion in the bedroom.
The thought alone made Tim seethe with jealousy. He tried not to think about it, giving his full attention first to his classes and now to painting. Tim worked in silence, just him and a canvas, occasionally glancing toward the fading light on the other side of the garage window. He had moved all of his equipment into the garage some time ago. Marcello had a habit of letting himself into the house, occasionally commenting on Tim’s work. His words were encouraging, but still invasive.
Later, when Tim brought home a one-night stand who turned out to be an art student, the guy had stood there and critiqued one of Tim’s paintings. Like it was any of his business! Of course Tim didn’t admit the work was his own, but that had been the final straw. The paintings were as private as his emotions—not to be shared with just anyone.
So Tim had cleared out the garage and made it his studio. Usually he found painting therapeutic, but today it only seemed to increase his frustration. Nothing came out like he wanted it to, the canvas growing darker as he added more and more layers of failure. He was trying not to think of Ben, desperately avoiding thoughts of where he was or what he was doing. Or what was being done to him.
Still the images came unbidden. A hello kiss for Jace when he came in the door. That shy feeling that comes from being apart, especially when the other person means so much to you. Jace picking Ben up. Carrying him down the hall. Laying him on the bed.
Tim tossed aside the paintbrush. Part of him felt like driving over there, kicking in the door, and begging Ben to run away with him. Despite how pathetic this would make him seem, the idea was tempting.
Instead he picked up the brush, closed his eyes, and thought of Ben. Not what he was doing at this moment, but who he was, how complete he made Tim feel. When they were in high school, Ben had given Tim the affection he was desperate for while showing him how to be free. Now Ben represented hope, the promise of an end to his solitude. Someone he could share his life with.
Taking a deep breath, Tim opened his eyes and continued painting.
* * * * *
Tim understood why Ben didn’t answer his phone that first day. That he didn’t answer the second day was an ill omen. Tim tried anyway, hoping to get through. On the third day he abandoned all subtlety and called every hour. He cursed himself for not setting up the voicemail before giving Ben the phone. At least then Ben might give into temptation and listen to what he had to say.
Tim didn’t have a plan. He had nothing.
He was deep into one of his evening painting sessions when he heard a car pull in the driveway. He shot out the side door in seconds, hoping to see Ben smiling at him through the windshield. Instead he found a huge man getting out of an even bigger Rolls-Royce Phantom.
“Hello, my handsome prince,” Marcello said theatrically.
“Hey,” Tim replied, forcing his eyes away from the car. Whenever Marcello came around, he made some excuse to enter the house. Tim understood why. Others visited graves, but he and Marcello were lucky to have this piece of Eric left behind.
“It’s hotter than Satan’s butt crack out here.” Marcello dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. “Please tell me you have the air conditioner cranked up to the max.”
“Of course.” Tim led him inside to the living room before fetching drinks from the kitchen. He always kept a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator for Marcello. Tim popped the cork, grabbing a glass to go with it and a bottle of beer for himself. When he reentered the living room, Marcello was glancing around as if at an exhibition.
“The parties that used to take place here,” he said as Tim poured his champagne. “You know, I don’t think a single party at my house has ended without someone getting into an argument, but here people behaved respectably. Ah, thank you!”
Tim raised his bottle in a quick toast, took a swig, and sat in the chair opposite Marcello. “It was Eric. People never argued here because they didn’t want to upset him.”
“Quite so.” Marcello nodded. “Do you ever think about continuing the tradition?”
Tim shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the same.”
“I suppose not. Well, speaking of parties, guess who’s turning fifty?”
“Your nephew?” Tim teased. “I know it can’t be you, because I was at your fiftieth last year.”
“And that wasn’t my first.” Marcello took a dainty sip of his champagne, the light catching the glass and the rings on his fingers. “I’m having a real bash this year, no expense spared.”
“If you want me to jump out of the cake, you can forget it.”
“I’d rather you jump out of those clothes.” Marcello chuckled at the idea, then tutted when Tim didn’t look amused. “You seem tense tonight.”
Tim sighed. “Sorry. Don’t take this as a hint, but I’m sexually frustrated.”
“Easily cured,” Marcello said. “I can’t imagine you having trouble attracting bees to the flower. Or if you’re tired of the scene, I’d be happy to send over one of my boys.”
Tim shook his head. “There’s only one guy who can scratch my itch.”
“And? Has he never laid eyes on you?”
Tim smiled at the compliment. “It’s Ben’s boyfriend that’s the problem.”
Marcello waved a hand dismissively. “That’s only a problem if you get caught.”
“It’s more than just sex,” Tim said. He took another swig. “Have you ever been in love?”
“I’ve always been in love with the idea of being in love, if that counts.”
“Seriously.” Over the years, Tim had seen a number of guys on Marcello’s arm, most of them young and gorgeous. And they didn’t seem to be there under duress. At first Tim thought it was the money, and maybe it was for a few of them, but others seemed to genuinely find something about Marcello appealing. “You never seem to have trouble getting what you want.”
“Success in love comes much as it does in business. Aggression and persistence will get you most of the way, with a little sweet talk to seal the deal.” Marcello appraised him. “In your case, a pair of Speedos should do the trick. My birthday party is at Splashtown this weekend. I won’t be swimming, but I always enjoy the view. I have the whole park reserved for me and my friends.”
“Isn’t that down in San Antonio?”
Marcello nodded. “I have two party buses reserved to shuttle us all there. Why don’t you come and bring this Ben person with you?”
Tim leaned back. “I doubt his boyfriend will allow that.”
“Bring him as well.”
Tim snorted.
“I’m serious.” Marcello leaned forward. “Do you really think he can compete with you?”
That was a tricky question. Tim avoided conversations about Jace, so he didn’t know much about him. From the photo he had seen, he was an okay-looking guy. Handsome in an offbeat way. But Tim had taken good care of his body, and it wouldn’t hurt to remind Ben of his assets.
“When Ben sees you and this other person together,” Marcello said, “one of you is going to pale in comparison. I wouldn’t bet a penny on this boyfriend of his. If it doesn’t work out, I’m inviting the handsomest boys in Austin. I’m sure you’ll find someone to soothe your broken heart.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
When it came to advice, Marcello made a poor replacement for Eric, but he might be on to something this time. He knew how to get what he wanted, and Tim sure as hell wanted Ben.
The next day he called only once, unperturbed when he still didn’t get an answer. Tim went through the motions of the day, waiting until evening when he was sure Ben would be out of class. Then he drove over to the duplex and rang the bell. Allison opened the door, eyebrows raised as if his every thought was transparent.
“He’s not here,” she said.
“Does he have a class this late?”
“He’s usually home by now. Just not this home.”
“Jace?”
She nodded. “Sorry.”
Well, that was something. At least she didn’t look smug as she shut the door. Of course she probably didn’t realize that Tim knew where Jace lived. Or that Tim was crazy enough to head straight into enemy territory. Why shouldn’t he? Jace was invited to the party too. Besides, it was time he learned firsthand what he was up against.
His self-assurance remained intact even as he knocked on the apartment door. He imagined Ben opening it, shocked and maybe a little thrilled by Tim’s audacity. He felt less certain when Jace answered.
There is a big difference between seeing someone in a photo and meeting them in real life. Jace was taller than he was—which Tim didn’t like—and dressed in a nice button-up shirt and casual slacks that made Tim feel scuzzy in his T-shirt and shorts. His blond-brown hair was styled intentionally messy, matching his controlled-but-casual appearance. Jace looked Tim over with a flicker of recognition, but with no hint of interest.
“Hey,” Tim said, flashing a smile. Even that failed to provoke a reaction, causing him to wonder if he wasn’t looking his best today. “Jace, right? I’m Tim.”
He extended a hand, which Jace accepted. Because Jace was tall, he looked thin, but his hands were warm and strong. Tim hated to think of all the places they had been.
“Tim, of course,” Jace replied. “Ben said he had run into you recently.”
In other words, I know all about you. “Yeah, it was just like old times. Hey, I was hoping to talk to you both about an idea I had.”
“Ben isn’t home,” Jace said.
“But he usually is by now, right? I don’t mind waiting.”
Jace took stock of him. Tim was sure Jace was about to tell him to go fuck himself and to not come around anymore. That’s what Tim would have said were the situation reversed, but instead Jace shrugged easily and gestured for him to enter.
The apartment felt more alive with Jace there. Even Samson seemed peppier. He still did the creeping, cautious sniff thing that cats did, as if seeing a person wasn’t proof enough that they weren’t really a giant pudding monster. Then Samson happily followed Jace to the living room and hopped up on his owner’s lap as soon as Jace was seated in the recliner.
Tim spread out on the couch, trying to make himself as large as possible. Hey, it worked in the animal kingdom. “So, Ben tells me you’re a stewardess or something.”
Jace smiled as if this didn’t bother him. “Yes. That’s exactly what I am, although I prefer to think of myself as an astronaut of the stratosphere.”
Huh.
“That’s funny,” Tim said without humor. “Seems like all they talk about on the news lately is airline employees having to take cuts. Must be hard making a living in your line of work.”
“I don’t live in a mansion,” Jace replied, “but I managed to take Ben to London recently. That was nice. Still, I’ll be glad when Ben has graduated and is earning money. What are you studying?”
Tim mumbled something about architecture while trying to come to grips with the situation. Here he was, a high school sweetheart back from the past and gorgeous enough that most gay guys would love to get into his pants—and yet Jace calmly sat there watching him with the same casual curiosity as his cat. Was Jace always like this? If so, Tim could understand the appeal of being with someone so confident.
“I don’t know much about architecture,” Jace said, “although I did see one of Hundertwasser’s buildings once, and that was a real eye opener.”
“He was amazing,” Tim admitted. “Shows you what’s possible if people think outside the box. Buildings can be art.”
“True. I suppose it’s like poetry. I’ve never really enjoyed it either, but someone like Dr. Seuss makes it so wacky and fun that it’s impossible not to like.”
Tim nodded. “Although it’s odd how if you make a painting that’s strange and different, most people dismiss it. Everyone scoffs at modern art or art installations, when really that’s also being playful within a medium. These days you have to grab people’s attention any way you can.”
Hold on now! Tim felt like leaping to his feet and pointing an accusatory finger. Jace was disarmingly charming when he should be biting his nails and fearing for his relationship. Even now, he was checking his watch as if he had other concerns.
“If he’s this late, I should probably start dinner.”
“No problem,” Tim said, whipping out his phone. “I’ll order us some pizzas. Ben still likes cheese and tomatoes, right? What about you?”
Ha ha! Take that! Your boyfriend is being fed by another man!
But this small victory went unnoticed by Jace, who pet and talked to his cat while Tim was ordering on the phone. When waiting for their food to arrive, Tim gave up taking cheap shots at Jace and kept conversation civilized. After all, the plan was to invite him to a party, and being the only one behaving maliciously made him feel like a royal asshole.
Not that he was done completely. The second the doorbell rang, Tim leapt up to answer it, like he owned the place. When he opened the door, he found something much more appetizing than dinner. Ben stood there slack-jawed, arms full of books and take-out.
Tim grinned at him. “For a pizza boy, you’re pretty hot.”