Page 28 of Contingently Yours

Shaw shakes his head, fortunately dismissing his husband as easily as I do. “Um…remind him you’re just playing pretend boyfriends,” he ventures. “Seriously, is this why you called?”

“Yeah, but he looks at me like…” I don’t even know how to go there, so I just rapid fire off the other list of crimes, “and gets hard for me, and jerked me off in the shower, and I don’t know how to end it without his pouting fucking up our deal. We still have two more properties to sell.”

“ Holyfuckingshit . Go the fuck back, right now,” Terry interrupts, his head appearing in the shot behind the couch like a jack-in-the-box.

Doesn’t he have his own cousins? “Why can I still hear you? This is your phone, isn’t it, Shaw?”

Shaw sits up, looking slightly more attentive now, at least. “Dude…did you just say he jerked you off in the shower?”

“Yeah. Keep up.” I bat my hand in front of my screen, waving off his attempt to get hung up on details. “So, how do I tell him it can’t happen again?”

“Uh…maybe, I don’t know—don’t fucking shower with him,” he says, sounding amused.

Terry throws his hands up behind Shaw and glances at the ceiling. “ Seriously ? You showered with him? How do you not see that you’re attracted to men?”

“Being attracted to men and trading hand jobs with one guy are not the same thing.”

“Whoa! Trading? Did you say trading? ” he shrieks, his eyes bugging out.

Oh my God. I don’t have time for this. My nipples are getting hard out here.

“Um…cuz, I think you have more than one problem here,” Shaw says sagely, with a hint of amusement.

Great. Terry’s infected him with his cockamamie theories.

Now I’m the one looking skyward. “He was begging for it. I was proving a point, and getting me back was the least he could do for all the effort I put into that shit. Quit making such a big deal out of it.”

“A big deal?” Shaw scoffs.

Terry’s hands slap the sides of his head as he leans over the couch. “Are you listening to yourself? Oh, my God, you’re freaking out big time. It’s okay,” he soothes, but then shakes his head and adds, “I can’t believe I’m actually consoling you, but it’s okay.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now Terry wants to braid my hair right along with Lucas.

“I’m not having a fucking freak out. I was hard and turned on. He…pisses me the fuck off. Apparently, I have an anger kink or something when it comes to him. I’m not bringing him to a Pride parade with you. He’s just… Help me out here, will you, Shaw?”

“Your John Stamos?” he suggests, referencing one of our favorite movies, ‘ Stepbrothers ,’ where two guys agree on the one guy they’d sleep with if they were women.

“No! I don’t want to fuck him. I just let him fuck my hand .”

Terry snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Snorting? What’s the snorting for?”

“You’re an idiot.” He sighs, shaking his head as he straightens up. Patting Shaw’s shoulder, he tells him confidentially like I can’t hear, “Don’t help him,” and then disappears from the frame, but not before I hear his enthusiastic comment of, “Let him fuck it up and figure it out on his own.”

“Goodnight!” I call. “Shaw will tuck you in under the coffee table in just a few.”

Resting my forearm on the retaining wall off the patio, I close my eyes and sigh. I need another gay cousin. One who’s not married.

“Drew…what’s going on with you?” Shaw asks.

“I told you. I had a one-night hand job, but I need it to end there. What should I do?”

Sighing, he scrubs his hand down his face. “I don’t know. What do you normally do?”

“I leave and never call, but I can’t do that, can I?”

“Then… I don’t know what to tell you. Stage a breakup, but tell the clients you still want to work together to show them the properties.”

“No way. They love Team Drewcus . They’ll try to play matchmaker and get us back together.”

It’s true. Me and my freaking method acting are what got me so deep into this madness.

“Then tell Lucas it was great, but you’re not interested in anything more.”

Ew. Has living with Terry turned him into a schmuck?

“Why do I have to compliment him?”

“Because you’re still stuck cohabitating with him for the next week and a half?”

“God, you give the worst advice. You know that?” It’s true. Why did I think calling him would help? “Honestly. Your advice is what got me into this mess.”

“ My advice?”

“Yeah, it all started when I kissed him. He went all doe-eyed and started mouth-breathing whenever we were close, like the sun shines out my ass.”

He snickers at that and covers his mouth.

“I’m glad this is so funny to you.”

“I’m not laughing at your situation. I’m laughing at you.”

“How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel better? And what does that even mean?”

Now he’s rolling his eyes like I’m the one who’s not understanding the situation. “Drew, most people want to find someone who thinks the sun shines out of their ass. I’m laughing because you’ve got one and you’re annoyed about it.”

“Well, yeah, because he’s…he’s…”

“What?”

Good. Patient. An open book. Devoted. Stirs my blood in all the right places.

“Nothing. Forget it. Thank you again for absolutely nothing.”

He lets out an amused huff and smirks. “My pleasure.”

“Oh, and my parents are having a fifth of July party at their house and asked if you and a plus one want to come.”

“You mean Fourth of July and Terry?” he asks, his face scrunching up.

“No. Fifth of July, noon, and bring someone who’s not obnoxious.”

“I’ll see if we’re free.”

“ Be free, so I have someone to talk to.”

“Lucky me.” He yawns. “That it?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

“Goodnight.”

He may give shit advice, but at least he’s a good listener and never lets emotions get in the way. There aren’t many people in my life like that.

“Shaw?” I call just as he starts to lower his phone.

“Huh?”

I try the salutation out to see how it feels. “I love you.”

His head rears back, and you’d think I just shot him with a stun gun. “Oh, my God.” He cracks up, shaking his head. “You need help.”

The call ends, telling me what he thinks of how much I value our cousinhood . What the fuck am I doing? Trying to be like Lucas?

No. That’s stupid. I’m trying to be the opposite of Lucas right now. I remind myself of that on my way back to our room.

As I get into bed and brush up against his Andrew-don’t-jerk-me pillow, I see red again and jam a pillow of my own up next to it. Two can play this game.

Lying back, I close my eyes and sigh, suddenly exhausted.

I’m tired of playing games. It feels like my entire life has been a game to some degree or another.

Doing just enough of what my parents expected of me without pulling my hair out.

Being the messenger boy between them and Uncle Lou’s side of the family.

Charming women over and over until I found one who didn’t expect anything from me.

Trying to convince her she’d never have to expect anything from me only to find out she’s foolishly dreaming about expectations.

This game, however, the one between Lucas and me, needs to end.

I’m not about to wake up with my hand on his dick again and then have to be an asshole when he starts breathing heavy like he was dreaming about it all night.

He needs to step up to the plate and take a turn because it’s getting exhausting being one all the time.