Between Sinners And Saints

  Levi resisted the urge to reach out and touch those soft strawberry-blonde curls. He didn't answer, but what he thought was, Just watch me. "Goodnight, kid." He started to leave, but turned in the door. "Do you want me to lock it?" he asked.

  It took Jaime a moment to answer. "No," he said at last, sounding as if his own answer confused him.

  "Okay. If you're gonna be sick, try to make it to the bathroom, okay?"

  "Yeah." Jaime sighed, his eyes still closed. "I think I like your bed."

  The feelings those words stirred in Levi were unlike anything he'd ever felt. Arousal, yes. And curiosity. He wanted to know what it would feel like to be in under the covers with Jaime. To feel his thin body curled up against him. But there was also a fondness--a protectiveness and a gentleness--that was new.

  "I just wish..." Jaime started, but then let his words trail away.

  Levi half hoped Jaime would say he wished he would sleep in the bed with him, but he knew it was unlikely. "You wish what?" he asked quietly.

  "Levi," Jaime said, "I wish you didn't smell so damn good."

  Chapter 9

  There were no bad dreams that night. Although Jaime's dreams were jumpy and frantic and confusing, at least there was nobody trying to hurt him. Somehow, he felt...not safe. That wasn't quite it. He barely even knew what the word meant. But he was a little less scared. For once.

  He woke at two in the morning and did manage to make it into the bathroom before being violently ill. The next two-and-a-half hours were spent sitting on the bathroom floor with his head on the toilet seat, swearing to God and the universe and whoever else might be listening that he would never drink again. Finally, with an empty stomach and a head pounding with every heartbeat, he went back to bed. He saw the water, Alka-Seltzer, and ibuprofen Levi had brought to him. He'd completely forgotten about them. He took them all, then settled back into bed.

  Levi's bed.

  It was a queen-size bed, the same size he had at home, but it was taller. And somehow, deeper. It must have had one of those pillow-tops because Jaime felt like he could sink into it forever. The sheets were worn and soft and comfortable, the pillows were fluffy, and the comforter was thick and heavy. And everything--everything about it--smelled like Levi. It made him feel at ease, more than he had for a long time. He felt he might be able to take Levi's strength, his bearing and his confidence, and wrap them around himself like a shield. He could hide in them forever. Nobody would ever know he was there at all.

  He fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  When he woke again, he was pleased to find he felt almost human. He was afraid to open his eyes, in case the light caused his head to pound again, but he stretched. He loved Levi's bed. He had never imagined he might feel at ease in another man's bed, but he did. It was more than just being comfortable. Somehow, it soothed him. Of course, it didn't hurt that it smelled so damn good. He almost wanted to roll over and bury himself down into it again. He almost wanted to strip off his boxers and push his naked groin into Levi's soft mattress. He thought about how good it would feel. Somehow the idea of letting Levi's scent touch him there was unbelievably arousing. It would allow him to have a bit of Levi, without ever having to let Levi touch him. Without ever letting Levi hurt him.

  "Hey, kid," Levi's sultry voice cut into his thoughts. "Hope I didn't wake you."

  Jaime risked opening his eyes. Levi was standing at his closet wearing only a pair of shorts while looking for a shirt. His over-grown hair was wet from the shower and sticking to the back of his tan neck. He looked absolutely amazing.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Not bad," Jaime said. "What time is it?"

  "Almost eight. Your first client is at nine-thirty?"

  "Yes. I need to get home."

  "Come on. I'll drive you."

  "You don't have to do that."

  Levi smiled at him. "I do, actually. My bike's at your house."

  He waited until Levi left the room before he got out of bed and got dressed. Then he followed Levi out of his apartment and into Jaime's car. He wasn't even surprised when Levi got in the driver's seat. It was strange, riding in the passenger seat of his own car. He'd never done that before. Except last night.

  Last night!

  For the first time, he thought about the night before.

  He didn't remember much. He remembered dinner and about half of the movie. After that, there were only random, disconnected images. He remembered Levi taking his keys. He remembered the drive-through at Wendy's. He remembered talking on the couch. He remembered Levi carrying him into the bedroom. The memory made his heart race with panic, but then he remembered very clearly Levi saying, "I won't hurt you." And he remembered cuddling down into Levi's fabulous bed.

  "What happened last night?" he asked.

  Levi laughed. "You don't remember?"

  "Not much. I don't usually drink."

  "Yeah, I sort of figured."

  "We were on your couch?"

  "For a while, yeah. We were talking. Then you decided you needed to go home, but you were way too drunk to drive. So I put you to bed."

  "Did I say anything really stupid?"

  To his surprise, Levi blushed. "No," he said, and it didn't sound like a lie. "You're a pretty mellow drunk."

  They reached his house and got out of the car. He held his hand out to Levi for his keys, but Levi didn't hand them over. Instead, he stood looking at Jaime as if he was debating something.

  "Do you work tomorrow?" Levi finally asked.

  The question surprised him. "No," he said. "I don't see clients on Saturdays."

  "You have any plans?"

  "No." Jaime never had plans. "Why?"

  Levi smiled at him. "Perfect," he said as he placed Jaime's keys in his hand. "I'll pick you up at ten. Bring your swimsuit."

  "We're going swimming?" Jaime asked in surprise.

  "No," Levi said, still smiling. "We're going surfing."

  * * * *

  Jaime was both elated and terrified at the idea of learning to surf. He felt as if he barely paid attention to his clients all day. All he could think about was being in the water the next day. With Levi.

  He wasn't sure what had prompted Levi to offer to teach him, but he wasn't complaining. He'd wished many times he knew how, but he'd never taken lessons because he was afraid there would be physical contact involved. He also wasn't sure where to go to avoid running into some type of surfer gang. He'd seen Point Break and while he suspected it was nothing but Hollywood bullshit, he didn't exactly want to find out the hard way he was wrong.

  Levi picked him up right on time and drove them to the beach. "The waves are kind of small here," Levi told him as he parked. "Which is good for us since you're just learning, and it means there won't be any knuckleheads in our way."

  They carried the boards out onto the beach, and Levi laid them both on the sand. "We won't get in the water yet. First, you're going to lie down on the board and practice jumping up."

  Jaime felt a little ridiculous, but he didn't argue. He lay on his stomach on the board, then jumped to his feet.

  "You have to go faster than that."

  Jaime tried again.

  "You have your left foot back," Levi said this time. "Try jumping up with your right foot back."

  Jaime did, but found it more awkward. "Will my weight be on my back or front foot?"

  "Slightly more on the back foot, but not too much. Maybe sixty-forty. Try again."

  Jaime did, but it still felt awkward.

  "You're pushing on the board under your chest like a push-up. Some people think that's awkward. You can try using the rails instead."

  Jaime looked down at the flat board in confusion. "What rails?"

  "The sides of the board."

  Using the rails did make it a little easier, and a couple of tries later, he felt like he'd managed to stand up faster than before.

  "You're left foot is back again," Levi said in amusement.

  "Is that wrong?" br />
  "Not necessarily." He shook his head. "Leave it to you to be a goofy-foot. Are you left-handed?"

  "Yes."

  "Not all southpaws put their left foot back, but some do. Go ahead and try again."

  "With my left foot back or my right?"

  "Whichever feels best."

  It definitely felt more natural with his left foot back, and after a few more tries, Levi declared Jaime ready to try it in the water. He grabbed his own board and led Jaime out into the surf. The beach had a slow slope, and they paddled out to the point where most of the waves were crashing.

  "We'll start on the whitewater first," Levi told him. "It's easier than the swells. The trick is to be in the wave right as it breaks. You'll paddle, but as soon as you feel the water grab you, stop paddling and jump up. Let the force of the water do the work."

  Of course, the first few tries were miserable failures. He could feel what Levi was telling him about the water. He knew when to paddle and when to stand. The problem was staying on his feet. The first couple of times, he came up too close to one side of the board or the other. Even once he got his balance centered between the rails, he kept tipping forward into the water.

  "It seems like you want to put more of your weight on your front foot," Levi said after his fourth face-first fall into the surf.

  "Is that wrong?"

  "Not necessarily, but you'll have to compensate for it by moving back on the board a bit."

  Jaime was sitting astride his board and he scooted backward a couple of inches, while Levi scanned the waves behind him. "There's one coming now. You ready?"

  "Of course not," Jaime said, although he couldn't keep himself from smiling like a fool as he moved to his stomach on the board.

  "Here it comes," Levi said. "Paddle, paddle, paddle!"

  If Levi said anything else after that, Jaime couldn't hear him. He was already paddling toward the shore. The sun beat down on his back and his eyes burned from the salt water. He felt the board lift a little and then cool water splashed over his legs as the wave broke. The force of the white water caught his board, pushing it on. Jaime quit paddling. He grabbed the rails and jumped to his feet, a bit farther back than he'd been before. He wobbled a little, but found his balance. And then...

  He was surfing!

  It wasn't graceful, and he thought he probably looked more awkward on his board than anything, but it felt great. He could hear Levi whooping behind him. He made it halfway to shore before the force of the wave died away and he drifted to a halt, feeling triumphant.

  Dismounting was even less graceful than the ride had been. He tried to step off the board, which threw his balance off and he landed on his back in the shallow water. Before he could get up, Levi was there. He grabbed Jaime's arms and pulled him to his feet, laughing and pounding him on the back.

  "Did you see that?" Jaime asked. "I did it!"

  "You did."

  "Oh my God, that was great! I want to do it again!" He looked around for his board and realized it had washed farther into shore, along with Levi's.

  "You're a natural," Levi said, although he only sounded half-serious.

  "Yeah, right." Jaime laughed, turning to look back at him.

  Levi was smiling at him. His wet hair was pushed backward off his tan face. His eyes were happy and bright. He was so at ease and so unbelievably gorgeous, Jaime found himself staring. Of course, Levi always looked great. But there was something about seeing him here, in his element, that was different. He seemed so much more real. So much happier.

  Levi's hand moved on his arm, and Jaime looked down in surprise at where Levi was still hanging onto him after pulling him out of the surf. He hadn't quite realized how close he'd let Levi get, and it troubled him. He pulled away instinctively, and Levi let him go.

  "Come on," Levi said, as he headed toward their boards, which were now stranded on shore. "A few more like that and we can try some real waves."

  They surfed all day. They stopped once long enough to walk up the shore to a beachside restaurant where Levi ordered Coronas and the Captain's Special, which turned out to be a basket full of unidentifiable deep-fried objects, and then it was back into the water. Levi led him farther out this time and tried to show him how to ride down the face of the wave as it was cresting, before it crashed. It was harder, but Jaime thought he'd be able to do it, with a bit more practice.

  By the time Levi dropped him off in front of his house, he was exhausted and extremely sunburned.

  "Thanks for taking me," he said to Levi.

  "You're welcome."

  "I'll see you Monday for your massage?"

  "I'll be there."

  Jaime closed the door to the truck and was turning toward his house when Levi called out, "Hey, Jaime?"

  "Yeah?" he asked, turning back to peer through the open truck window at Levi.

  "You want to go again tomorrow?"

  Jaime couldn't stop a giant smile from spreading across his face, even though he knew he probably looked like a fool. "I'd love to."

  "Good," Levi said. "I'll pick you up at ten."

  Chapter 10

  A weekend of surfing with Jaime erased Levi's argument with his mother from his mind. But only until the following Monday when Ruth called.

  "Are you trying to break Mom's heart, Leviticus?" she asked accusingly. "Are you trying to be a selfish jerk?"

  "She started it," Levi snapped, knowing as he did how childish he sounded.

  Ruth's silence was thick with sullen disapproval. It seemed to stretch on and on. He could picture her on the other end of the line, her jaw clenched and her fist on her hip. He could see her sorting through her ammunition as she seethed. As he waited for her to choose her line of attack, he felt himself shrinking, becoming as low and horrific as a rat in a five-star restaurant.

  "Leviticus," she finally said, her voice low and tight with anger, "Dad will only turn sixty once. We have no way of knowing how much longer we'll have with him."

  "Ruth, give me a break--"

  But she kept speaking, ignoring his interruption. "If we're lucky, he'll be around another twenty or thirty years, Levi. If we're lucky. But his father died at the age of sixty-five. And his brother died at sixty-six."

  Levi closed his eyes and tried to blot out the image of himself at his father's funeral. It couldn't happen so soon. His father was a giant. A force of nature. He was invincible. It couldn't happen. Not yet.

  Except of course, it could.

  But it didn't change the fact he'd be walking into the proverbial lion's den.

  "Goddamn it, Ruth," he said. "You don't know what you're asking."

  "You don't think so?" she asked, her voice like ice. "Well, you're wrong. Get over yourself! So you put up with them praying over you. You put up with them lecturing you. For three days, Levi. Three days! Then you can go back to whatever you think you have in Miami that's more important than your own father."

  "Shit!" He put his head down on the table, wishing this wasn't his life. "Shit, shit, shit!"

  His sister recognized his outburst for what it was--he was giving in. "Three days, Levi," she said, her voice softer now. "That's all I'm asking."

  He sighed. Three days. Three days of being the sinner in a family of saints. "Fine," he said. "I'll be there."

  He only had a few minutes before he was due at Jaime's for a massage. Levi called the club and requested Labor Day weekend off as soon as he hung up the phone so he wouldn't have time to change his mind. Then he had to race to get Jaime's on time.

  Jaime had him start facedown, and as the massage began, Levi found he couldn't stop worrying about his upcoming trip. The idea of seeing his family again filled him with equal parts happiness and dread. He hoped things would be different this time. Even so, he knew it was a groundless hope that would only leave him angry and disappointed. Again. He was already regretting having given in to Ruth. And Ruth had undoubtedly already called to inform his mother. Was there any way to get out of it now?

&nb
sp; "You're quiet today," Jaime said. "Is something wrong?"

  "No." Yes. Were all family relations this hard? If he were straight, would they just find something else to fight over? Did Jaime have this kind of trouble with his family? Of course, Jaime never talked about his family at all.

  It seemed strange. Over the weeks, Jaime had learned a great deal about Levi, but Levi still knew next to nothing about Jaime. The only thing Levi remembered had occurred during Levi's second massage. Levi had said his relationship with his family was complicated, and Jaime had said, "It always is when it comes to family."

  "Where are you from?" Levi asked. He was still on his stomach, so he couldn't see Jaime's face.

  "Cleveland."

  "Yuck," Levi said. "No wonder you left."

  There was a tiny pause, then Jaime said, "Yeah."

  "When did you move here?"

  That same tiny pause, which meant Jaime wasn't comfortable with the question. "Right after high school."

  "You came here to go to school?"

  "Take a deep breath, Levi. Let's work out some of this tension in your lumbar."

  He suspected Jaime was simply evading his question, so instead of doing what Jaime said, he asked another question. "Do you have any family here?"

  "No. Take a deep breath."

  "Brothers or sisters?"

  Jaime sighed in frustration. "I'm an only child. Take a deep breath!"

  "Are you close to your parents? Do you--"

  Jaime suddenly pushed hard on his lower back, and as so often happened, Levi hadn't realized how sore it was until Jaime's strong hands started kneading on it.

  "Ow! You don't have to hurt me."

  "Would you like to cooperate now?"

  "Jesus Christ," Levi grumbled. "Fucking sadist." But he took a deep breath, and they spent the next several minutes working through a series of movements that hurt like hell, but left his back feeling an inch longer on the left side than it had before.

  Afterward, Jaime had him turn onto his back. He began massaging his arm.

  "Are you out with your family?" Levi asked. He'd asked Jaime once before, but Jaime had evaded the question. He wondered if he'd do the same now.