Chapter 8
Max
No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the memory of the silk rope in my palm. I figured work would take my mind off it, but my fixation has only grown stronger as the day progressed.
All I can think about is getting home to find out more from Clay and do some internet research of my own.
“Guess who I ran into at the bar last night,” Gio says, bumping his shoulder against mine as I work a tire off an old Chevy.
“No idea, Gio. And you know I hate guessing games.”
My brother rolls his eyes at my lack of enthusiasm for his little game.
“It was Nina.”
“My ex from like ten years ago?”
“Yeah and she was still fine as hell. I thought for sure you would wife her up.”
I bristle and clench my jaw, forcing my attention to remain on the tire I’m in the middle of replacing.
Nina was my high school sweetheart, and she was a great girl. I was well aware that my entire family and hers expected I’d put a ring on it after graduation. It didn’t matter that we were clearly too young and had no fucking clue which way was up. Hell, at thirty-two I still feel too young for something as serious as marriage most days. But, more than that, there was just something missing. I loved Nina, but there was no passion, no excitement.
“Just didn’t fit, bro,” I tell him with a shrug. “I don’t go around asking you why you haven’t married every girl you’ve taken to bed.”
Gio laughs and slaps me on the shoulder.
“Good point. I just hate thinking of you lonely, man. You know, you could always move in with me and Tony; we’ve still got one more extra bedroom.”
Live with both my brothers? Fucking shoot me now.
“No thanks, Gio.” I can barely stand to spend ten minutes at their place with the dirty sock and piss smell. It’s like they live in a damn frat house and neither of them is willing to pick up after themselves. They’re goddamn animals.
“It’s just Tony and I have been thinking that maybe living with that que—”
The impact gun whirs in my hands as I tighten the lug nuts, cutting off the abhorrent slur my brother just dropped like it was nothing. I spin on him and fix him with a warning look.
“I told you not to call him that. While you’re at it, erase that fucking word from your vocabulary, asshole.”
Gio holds his hands up in surrender.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Just that he’s a fa—uh...he’s feminine.”
“Oh yeah, how so?” I challenge. Gio takes a step back and casts around, likely looking for backup. He knows better than to get into this with me. After he and Tony met Clay for the first time, they certainly had something to say, and I laid down the law.
“Okay, listen...all I’m saying is we figured maybe living with him is starting to rub off and that’s why you haven’t been dating lately.”
“Jesus, you two are morons,” I mutter, turning back to my current task.
“It’s true though. When was your last date?”
I pause while I try to recall. And, sadly, it takes me way too long to come up with an answer. “Maybe eight months.” It’s been over a year, but if I tell him that, this conversation will never end.
“Dude,” Gio gasps. “Is your dick broken or something?”
“My dick is fine,” I grit through my teeth. Jesus, will this conversation ever end? My dick is in perfect working order; I had an epic hard on just this morning...after a dream about Clay.
I shake that thought off because it’s not helping anything. I already determined this morning that I’m as straight as I’ve ever been. A few errant thoughts after a year of celibacy are almost expected. Gio is dead wrong about Clay having anything to do with my dry spell, but maybe he has a point about me going out and getting laid.
“Fine, just wanted you to know we worry about you.”
“I’m glad to know you two spend so much time thinking about my dick,” I quip.
“Hey, fuck you,” Gio retorts with a chuckle. And then he finally walks away and lets me get back to my damn work.
But even once he walks away, his words nag at me. Could I use a warm body in my bed? Hell yeah. Do I have time to date or even go pick someone up? Not even close. Between Gigi, work, and restoring vintage bikes on the side, I don’t have time for any of that shit. And now with everything Jess is putting me through, the last thing I need to be worried about is getting my dick wet.
I’ll find time to have fun once everything falls into place. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to do some personal research on all that bondage stuff. Maybe it’ll come in handy when I am able to enjoy a little playtime.
Clay
I stand at the front door with my hands shaking, too afraid to open the door and face Max’s disgust. I shouldn’t have said anything to him last night. I’ve ruined everything, and there’s no way to go back and fix it now.
Okay, on the count of three I’ll go in. One...two...two and a half…
The door opens, and Max smiles at me with confusion.
“I thought I heard someone out here. Why are you standing here instead of coming inside?”
“Uh…” I shove my hands in my pockets and try to think of a plausible excuse aside from I was afraid to face you. My mind buzzes with the white noise that makes it impossible to think straight, and Max is still staring at me, waiting for me to say something. “I feel like I’m failing at everything. I feel like my life is falling apart in my hands,” I blurt.
“What? No, it’s not,” Max tries to reassure me.
“I know, but that’s how it feels. I’m treading water and getting farther in over my head every day. It’s all too much. And now you’re creeped out by me and want me to move out.”
“Where’d you get that idea? I’m sorry I don’t know what to say when you get like this. Please, come inside.”
I huff out a laugh and look up at Max through my moist eyelashes.
“Trust me, as helpless as it feels from your end, it feels a thousand times worse inside my head. With the catastrophic thoughts, it’s like I want you to agree with me that the worst is about to happen because it’ll validate me. But at the same time, I don’t want you to agree because that means all my worst fears are coming true.”
“How about if I just give you a hug?” Max offers helplessly, opening his arms to me.
I nod with a small smile on my lips and step into his arms. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I mumble against his chest.
“Ah, you’d be fine. Now, get in here; I made dinner.”
“You did?” I ask in surprise.
“Well, it was a frozen pizza. But I didn’t burn it, so I think I still deserve the credit.”
I chuckle. “Of course, you deserve credit. Thanks for cooking.”
I follow Max to the kitchen; when he reaches into the fridge, he holds up a beer questioningly.
“No thanks, I’m still feeling the effects of last night. Just my liver’s way of reminding me I’m not twenty-two anymore.”
“Right? God, I’m glad I’m not the only one feeling every one of my thirty-two years today.”
I nod in agreement and accept the soda he hands me instead. A little knot of tension eases in my chest. Everything feels normal. This is totally fine; he just needed a minute to adjust to it.
“Can I ask you a few questions about the bondage thing?” Max asks, and I accidentally inhale while taking a sip of my soda.
I set the can down and start to cough and sputter against the fizzy liquid now burning down my trachea instead of my esophagus.
Max reaches over and thumps his large hand against my back until I stop coughing.
“What...uh...what kinds of questions?” I ask once I catch my breath again.
Max doesn’t answer right away, and I feel my face heating as I keep my gaze trained on a slice of pepperoni on my piece of pizza.
“How did you know that was what you were into?” he finally asks.
I shrug as I pick off the pepperoni and shove it in my mouth. “I had a boyfriend who was into it,” I answer after thoroughly chewing.
“That’s not all there is to it. If that was it, you wouldn’t be having trouble dating.”
I sigh and finally look up at Max, whose expression is full of open curiosity. “Okay, you know I have anxiety? Well, it’s always been bad when it comes to sex. I don’t really know why, I just could never turn my brain off and relax enough to really enjoy it. Then, I dated this guy in college who was into bondage, and that was pretty much it. I was able to go to this really Zen place in my head and just feel. It’s kind of like a drug, though. Now sex without bondage doesn’t really do it for me in the same way. I still cum, but it’s not as intense. I’m too in my own head.”
My pulse thunders in my ears as I wait for Max’s reaction. I’ve never even given a full explanation to Beck.
Max nods thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything for two hundred heartbeats. “So, you didn’t really know until you tried it?”
“I guess, yeah.” I take another big bite and pray for this conversation to find a quick conclusion. I don’t understand why Max wants to know all this anyway.
“Huh. I was thinking it seems kind of...interesting.”
“Interesting?”
Max shifts in his seat, and now, it seems to be his turn to avoid my gaze. “Yeah, I don’t know. Theoretically, where would someone find out more about how it works and everything?”
“The internet?”
“Duh,” Max laughs. “But I don’t just want porn. Do you know of any instructional type videos?”
“Google Shibari, there’s some porn, but lots of helpful stuff, too,” I answer with a dry throat. Is Max really into the idea of bondage? As if there needs to be one more way he’s perfect and still completely straight.
“Oh okay, I’ll do that then.”
Something flashes through Max’s eyes that I can almost imagine is disappointment. But it can’t be. It’s not like he wanted me to offer to teach him. I wouldn’t be able how to teach him how to bind anyway, all I know is how to relax and enjoy being bound.
Heat flares at the base of my spine just imagining Max straddling my chest as his rough fingers wind my soft ropes around my wrists and attach them to my headboard.
“Did you talk to Jess yet about mediation?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
“Not yet, I’m going to talk to her when I pick up Gigi this weekend. I figure giving it a few days to settle is a good idea. The last thing I need is to say or do something that she can use against me.”
“Good thinking,” I agree.
After we finish eating, I clean up our plates while Max takes out the garbage. It really is too bad he’s straight because we’d make a great couple. But it’s useless to long for things that will never be.
Normally, Max and I hang out after dinner, but tonight I’m feeling a little too raw from my high anxiety day and the new development of Max apparently being into bondage—just not with me. I decide to slip into my room to get some space from him tonight.
I close my door behind me and flop down on my bed just as my Skype ringtone sounds on my phone. There’s only one person I Skype with.
I glance in my mirror quickly to make sure I look presentable and then hit the accept call button.
“Hey Jake,” I greet my smiling ex-boyfriend when his face fills my screen.
“Hey, babe. How’s it going?”
“Ugh,” is the only response I can come up with that isn’t a lie.
Jake chuckles and the sound warms me. He’s always had a nice laugh.
“Uh-oh, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just life. My sex life is non-existent, my gorgeous roommate might be into bondage but is still straight as an arrow, and all the stress of running a business is hell on my complexion.”
“Sugar, it sounds to me like the answer to all of your problems is the same thing. You need someone to take care of you. You’re wound too tightly, and you need to be unraveled.” Jake’s voice takes on a husky quality he always used when he was sweet talking me into bed. Not that he ever had to put that much effort into it.
“Stop it with that charming shit; you know it doesn’t work on me anymore.”
Jake sighs and then chuckles. “Pity. I didn’t mean me, though. I only meant that I remember how much good a proper release always did for you.”
“Yeah, I almost can’t remember what that feels like. Do you have this much trouble finding partners?”
“I don’t need the ropes like you do, love,” Jake Points out and a wave of self-pity washes over me.
Why do I have to be so broken that it’s impossible for me to find someone? Maybe I should forget the bondage altogether and settle for a lackluster sex life with someone I could build a life with. My chest aches both in longing and disappointment at the idea. Why can’t I have both? Is it so much to ask to want a life partner as well as someone willing to tie me up and use my body until I’m spent and boneless?
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’m probably going to be alone forever.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re a catch; I still regret ever letting you get away.”
I roll my eyes at my friend. “I told you that shit isn’t going to work.”
“I know, but you can’t blame a guy for trying. Tell me something good going on in your life.”
I settle back against my pillow and tell Jake all about On Pointe and about my wonderful friends and the LGBTQ youth center—Rainbow House—that I’ve been volunteering at.
“You’ve got a good life, Clay. As much as I miss you sometimes, I’m glad you stayed where your happiness is.”
“Thanks, Jake. It’s getting late, and I had a long day, so I think I’m going to get some sleep.”
We sign off, and I strip out of my clothes, leaving them in a pile beside my bed. And then I snuggle under my blankets and drift off to sleep, doing everything in my power not to wonder if Max is enjoying his Google exploration of bondage.