Luke shook his head. “You’re not lying.”
“Not right now. No.”
“If I asked you, right now, to tell me that you wanted to be with me. Like try a real thing. What would you say?”
Alex chose his answer carefully. “I can’t say that.”
“Lie, then,” Luke said. “You lie all the time, so lie about this!”
Alex shook his head in silence. Luke’s shoulders slumped. He pulled his hand from Alex’s grip and used his other one to rub it, as though the touch had left a bruise.
“I’m not the guy you want for real. I’m the guy you fuck because you’re curious. I’m the one you fuck because you’re lonely. Or confused. I’m just the guy you fuck,” Alex said. “That’s all.”
Luke got to his feet, staggering once but catching himself before he could stumble. It was the first time he’d seemed less than sober tonight, but Alex knew Luke wasn’t drunk. Something inside him was cracking, getting ready to shatter.
“That’s not all you are,” Luke said.
Alex stood, too. “That’s all I am for you. It’s all I’ll ever be able to be.”
Luke pulled himself up straight. Squared his shoulders. Lifted his chin.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, absolutely. You will.”
At the door, Luke turned. “It would have been better if you’d been able to lie to me, at least for an hour or two.”
He didn’t wait for Alex to answer him. Alex locked the door behind him, one hand on it, then put his forehead to it as he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Luke on the other side. He still had the chance, this one last chance, to open up the door, but he knew that no matter what Luke thought, it would not have been better for either of them if Alex had lied.
Chapter 18
Alex had enough friends in enough places that all he needed was a plane ticket and an overnight bag. He had both within a few hours. He slept on the plane. He got off the plane. He got a cab to a friend’s house. Madeline was an acquaintance of a generous nature, with a nice guest room and low expectations. She’d been through a recent divorce and was not interested in dating or even fucking.
“That’s the only reason I let you stay here,” she told Alex over mugs of hot, sweet tea and a plate of scones. “Because believe me, if I was in the mood to get laid, I’d have been all over you.”
He laughed, but the comment stung. “I appreciate the honesty.”
“Always.” She studied him over the rim of her cup. “You look different.”
The last time he’d seen her had been at the party of a mutual friend. She’d just separated from her husband. “You do, too. You look happy.”
“I am happy. Ecstatically.” Madeline tilted her head, looking him over with a furrow of her brow. “You don’t look happy, Alex.”
“I’m not happy.”
Madeline reached across the table to take his hand in hers. Alex drew in a breath that became a sigh, a muttering whisper. A small, helpless groan. Her simple kindness had unravelled him.
“When you want to talk about it, I’m here,” she said.
He didn’t think he would ever want to talk about it, but he found himself unable to stop himself from talking about it. The tea went cold, the scones uneaten, while Alex talked. They moved to the living room with glasses of wine, and Alex talked. The next morning, over the breakfast he insisted on cooking for her as a thank-you for the hospitality, Alex talked.
For days. Weeks. A month. And another. Alex told Madeline everything, all about his friendship with Jamie. What had happened with Anne. With Luke. With everyone else in his life he’d ever done wrong or been done wrong by.
When she asked him to travel with her — using her recent ex-husband’s money without qualms and more than a little bit of venom, Alex said yes. It was good to have a companion, Madeline told him. Better and safer, in some of the places she wanted to visit, if she had a man at her side. They moved from city to city, country to country, eating and drinking and talking their way around the world.
It took a little over a year.
By the end of it, Madeline had started giving interested glances at the handsome and usually younger men who’d been giving her the eye. “I’m not kicking you out or anything. You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
They’d been sipping cocktails in her garden. Most of the flowers had died, but the day had been mild enough for them both to crave the sunshine that the winter would soon chase away. Alex savored the drink before answering.
“I have a friend in the States who’s been after me to take on some work in his area.”
“A friend,” Madeline said with amusement.
Alex laughed. “He’s only a friend, as far as I’m concerned.”
“With you, I know how that goes.” She gave him a small smile. “Will you be all right?”
“If you mean can I resist him? Yeah. Probably. It wouldn’t be the first time I disappointed someone who wanted to get me into bed. One of the few times, but not the first,” Alex added with a wry laugh. “But I think it’s time I move on. Give you some room around here. You can’t really get your groove on with me hanging around.”
“I could if I wanted to. You’ve never been a hindrance to that.” Madeline flicked her fingertips in his direction and tipped her head back to laugh toward the autumn sky. She looked back at him. “I think I’m ready to at least see what might happen. Thank you for that.”
Alex’s brows rose. “Me? I haven’t done anything. I mean, you’re the one who’s been holding my hand for the past year or so, listening to me droning on and on about the same thing, over and over. Getting me through. I owe you.”
“You gave me someone to love without expectation. I needed that,” she told him seriously. “Someone to take care of for a bit, so I’d stop thinking so much about how much I needed taken care of.”
He wasn’t ashamed to cry in front of her. They’d gone past that, long ago. Alex swiped at his eyes, throat closing with emotion.
“I’ve been happy to take care of you,” he said.
Madeline smiled and brushed the fall of her silver hair out of her eyes. “But you’re not happy, Alex.”
That was true. The best he could say was that he was at least no longer relentlessly miserable. “Maybe one day.”
“One day, indeed. Let’s hope it’s sooner than you think,” Madeline agreed.
She took his hand. He kissed the back of it. They sat that way in the garden, enjoying the sun, neither of them speaking about anything at all.
Chapter 19
A small city tucked into the rural countryside, Harrisburg was charming in its way. It had a beautiful capital building and a struggling downtown that had been revitalized more than once but had never managed to stay vital. Patrick lived in a nice little house that had been renovated without losing any of its vintage appeal. He offered Alex a room, but being a permanent house guest for the past year or so had left Alex wanting a little more privacy. A hotel room would lose its appeal quickly, he knew that, but for the time being it felt right.
Patrick, as it turned out, had a lot of single, curious, confused or lonely friends, and many of them were happy to think of Alex as the guy they wanted to fuck. Alex, for all his determination to get his shit together, had never been any good at celibacy. Living with Madeline had made it easier when she held him accountable, but he was back on his own and randy as hell. Patrick’s friend Evan made it quickly clear he was down for some rumpy pumpy action to help him get over a recent breakup. It was supposed to be “just for fun.” The “fun” lasted all of two weeks, when Evan made the offhand comment that the extra toothbrushes were in the closet.
Nobody would ever say Alex Kennedy wasn’t smart, but sometimes, he sure was a fucking dumbass.
He’d only been keeping a small overnight bag at Evan’s house to save him time and effort the few nights he’d stayed over. He didn’t want to bother picking it up, counting the loss of
some deodorant and a couple of pairs of briefs as collateral damage. He did man up and tell Evan he wasn’t going to be coming back around. The fun had ended.
“Just come by and get your things,” Evan said. “No drama.”
But of course there was drama. There were accusations. There was pleading. There was the throwing of shoes and stamping of feet. Alex had extricated himself as well as he could, knowing he’d gotten what he deserved. One day he’d learn his fucking lesson.
He should’ve known, though, that Evan would be at Patrick’s holiday party.
It was wrong, of course, to go with Evan outside to Patrick’s very cold, very cluttered, screened porch, but the offer of a good old fashioned dicksucking had led Alex to a lot of bad decisions in the past. Why should this time be any different? Other than the audience, he thought, as he caught sight of the woman standing in the shadows, mostly hidden by the piles of Patrick’s hoarded junk. Alex had been watching her all night, careful to make sure she didn’t catch him staring. She was gorgeous — dark hair in braids all over her head, bronze skin, lush mouth and figure.
He should have talked to her, he thought, distracted and still a little high, even as Evan grew himself a wild hair and shoved Alex against the wall like he was trying to be the daddy. Alex turned his face toward the light. If he’d talked to her earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be here with Evan, now. He could just barely glimpse her, standing still as a wild deer trying not to catch the attention of a wolf. If he called out to her, would she run?
If she ran, would he want to chase her?
Before Alex had the chance to say anything or think about his silent observer any longer, Evan dropped to his knees and unzipped the front of Alex’s trousers. Alex had to shake his hair out of his eyes to look at the man in front of him, so eager to get to Alex’s cock that his mouth already gaped. His lips glistened in the dim shaft of light from the yard, making Evan’s eagerness not sexy, but somehow unsettling. Like, getting your knob gobbled was one thing, but something about how Evan was acting seemed more like he meant to actually eat Alex’s dick. Something like a conscience poked him, which was a fucking joke, because Alex usually ignored the angel on his shoulder, that annoying little fuck.
Still, right now, in the dark and cold and the party still thumping inside, and especially with the woman watching them, Alex had the sense to know that all of this was going to end up going sour in the long run. Hell, in the short run, as in about ten minutes from now when he was done coming down the back of Evan’s throat and the poor guy thought that meant a reconciliation. Alex had already gone through drama with Evan. The guy was lovestruck, or something stupid like that.
So, Alex tried. “Evan, you don’t have to do this.”
“Shut up.”
The light from the streetlamp down the alley was barely bright enough to illuminate anything, but it was enough to show Alex what was going on. He didn’t dare look toward the corner to see if the woman was still watching. He hadn’t seen even the glimmer of movement, so he thought she must be. Watching…and enjoying it? He hoped so. Something about the idea of that was super hot, hot enough that he ignored the danger bells clanging inside him about getting involved again with Evan’s crazy.
Evan yanked Alex’s trousers down past his knees. Alex had been nursing a semi since they got out onto the porch, but Evan didn’t settle for that. He gripped Alex’s cock and stroked, stroked, and say what you wanted about the guy being a pretentious asshole, he did know how to get a cock hard. Alex’s head tipped back with a dull thud against the wall as the warmth of pleasure washed through him.
“Shut up and take it,” Evan said.
Maybe he meant to be menacing or sexy, but Alex only laughed and put his hand on Evan’s head to twist and twine his fingers in the other man’s hair. Alex jerked Evan’s head back seconds before he could get his mouth on Alex’s dick.
“Are you fucking serious?” Alex said around his laughter. He loosened his grip enough to let Evan’s head bob forward. Evan was, indeed, serious.
There came the soft, wet noise of a mouth on flesh.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Alex said.
“I know how you like it,” Evan said, softer this time, without the attitude.
“Who doesn’t?” Alex laughed, low and slow and a little drowsy.
More soft, wet sounds. Alex looked down at Evan and saw the gleam of Evan’s smile as he pulled away from Alex’s cock. Alex put his hand on Evan’s head again. Evan got back to the business of cocksucking.
Alex moaned. Evan made a muffled noise and drew Alex’s cock in nice and deep, so that it nudged the back of his throat. His palm cupped Alex’s balls and he stroked his thumb along that sweet spot, finding the place to press, just right. Evan could be clinging and jealous and held far too high an opinion of himself. He’d tried too hard, demanded too much from Alex even though he’d made it clear from the start that everything was only casual between them. But fuck, if the guy couldn’t suck cock.
The soft, feminine sigh from the corner told him she was still watching, and that was what pushed him over the edge more than the steady stroking of Evan’s tongue or the tickle on his balls. She sounded like she might just be getting a little bit herself. Alex arched, hitting his head with a dull thump on the wall.
He was coming, oh fuck yes. Oh, God. He looked for her then, staring deep into the shadows to find her face. Her eyes were closed, her face turned. She wasn’t looking at him, and the disappointment softened his cock faster than it otherwise would have.
While Alex had lost his attention to the silent woman in the corner, Evan had gotten to his feet and was aiming his mouth at Alex’s. He almost got it there, too, because of the distraction. Alex could smell himself on Evan’s breath, a thick ocean scent that normally didn’t offend him, but now pissed him off.
“No,” Alex said and put his hand up to keep Evan from kissing him. There was distance between them, a space of light in the dark of their two shadows. Evan moved forward again, a little, and Alex stepped to the side.
“No?” Evan mimicked, sounding exactly like the whiny, clingy lover he’d always been. A reminder of exactly why this had been a bad idea. “You’ll let me suck your dick, but you won’t kiss me?”
Zip. Sigh. Alex shrugged.
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”
“I know it,” Alex said. “But so did you before you brought me out here.”
Evan stamped his foot. Tossing a tantrum. It probably worked on other guys, but it never had on Alex. “I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do!” Evan opened the door to the house and turned back to add dramatically, “You can just forget about coming home!”
Alex rolled his eyes. Yes, it was true. He was an asshole. But he’d been an honest one, at least, and it wasn’t his fault Evan had thought he could somehow get around that.
“Your place isn’t home. Why do you think I took all my stuff?”
“I fucking hate you. I never should’ve given you a second chance!” Evan’s voice cracked.
For a second, a tiny one, Alex felt a little pity for the other man, who’d once told Alex he was afraid everyone left him because they thought he was unlovable. They’d been in bed, the lights out, both too high even to fuck. Alex had kissed Evan’s forehead and told him not to worry so much about what other people thought.
“I told you not to,” Alex said.
Evan swept out. Alex stayed behind for another minute or two, his breathing heavy. He wanted to call out to the woman, to ask her what she thought about it. Was he an asshole, he wanted to know. Did he deserve Evan’s hatred?
He wanted to ask her, his sexy voyeur, if she thought he, Alex, was unlovable.
But of course, she wouldn’t be able to answer him. She didn’t know him, and she probably never would. So instead of calling her out to let her know he’d seen her watching, embarrassing them both, causing more drama he didn’t need, for once Alex listened to the sane l
ittle angel on his shoulder.
He went inside.
Chapter 20
Alex had been looking for his mystery woman all night, but although the party had thinned out a lot, he hadn’t found her. She must have gone home. Drunk and weeping, Evan had begged Alex to reconsider, “just one more time.”
“Listen to me,” Alex said under his breath so that Evan’s friends, who were hovering around ready to rescue him from the Big Bad Wolf wouldn’t hear. “You are not unlovable. Okay? You’re not fucking unlovable, Evan.”
“Then why?”
Alex sighed. He put a hand on each of Evan’s shoulders. He looked into the other guy’s eyes.
“Because I don’t want to. Sometimes, that’s the only reason.”
“Come home with me anyway,” Evan said.
Evan’s friends pulled him away before Alex could answer, although he had no intentions of taking the other guy up on the offer. Anyway, Patrick had convinced him to stay here, at least for the night. Longer, if he wanted to.
The bedroom they’d given him was small. Barely big enough for a twin bed with a plush mattress and a small dresser, into which he had not bothered to unpack his duffel bag. He liked sleeping naked, but it was too damned cold in here, so he pulled out the first pair of soft pajama bottoms he could find. They were the Hello Kitty pair he ought to have thrown out long ago, and after he tugged them on, he sat on the bed with his head in hands for a long time.
The pajamas made him think of Anne, which made him think of Jamie, and dammit, wouldn’t it have been the perfect hour of the night to call the number of the house on the lake and talk to one or both of them? To ask them if he could come…home, Alex thought, and clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the small cry from leaking out. Anne and Jamie’s house could never again be his home. He’d ruined that the summer he’d stayed there, and if it had been salvageable, he’d ruined it again for good after what had happened later. After seeing Anne in Cleveland, Alex knew there was no way he could ever take that sort of advantage again.