Page 53 of Falling for Raine

“Aye. Jayzus, I couldn’t even say the word back then. Gay. It was my biggest weakness, my Achilles’ heel. The one thing about myself I couldn’t improve.”

“That’s a sad way to look at yourself,” he commented softly.

“It is, but…it’s all I knew. My parents were good people, but it was a different time. Gay was the worst possible insult anyone could wield. Poofta, nancy, pansy…it was all the same thing. You were weak, you were less than, you were a pariah, a nobody. Before I even knew what the words really meant, I knew I didn’t want that label. Imagine my dismay when I realized that’s who I was.” I held my hands up like dual stop signs. “No matter how many nights I prayed the gay away, I still woke up queer as could be the next morning. The only way to handle my predicament was to never tell a soul.”

Raine frowned. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Aye. My secret felt like a burden or a poison that would hurt the people I loved. Think about it. Me fatha nearly had a heart attack when I got nabbed for petty thievery, getting outed as gay…oy, that woulda sent him to an early grave, shamed memam, me brutha, me sista. The neighbors would turn on ’em, the church would send them away. And it would all be my fault.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” he chided carefully.

“No, Ray-n. It’s not. Different times, different ways.” I waved dismissively, signaling I’d moved on. “Men like me lived two lives. That’s it. No other choice. And if someone caught on that you had a secret…say, in the workplace, you were bloody well screwed.”

He opened his mouth to a perfect O. “He found out.”

I inclined my chin and glanced briefly out the window. “Blower saw me with Tom, a chap from uni I…dated. We were at a crowded pub nowhere near where either of us lived. I don’t know how much I’d had to drink, but I let my guard slip and brushed my hand to Tom’s. Like this.”

I covered Raine’s hand and lightly brushed his fingertips.

“That’s it?”

“No, I hooked our pinky fingers too. But that really was it, and it was enough for Blower. He followed me.”

“Are you joking?”

“Insane, right? He even took some grainy photos,” I said, dipping a chip in mayo. “They weren’t much, but as the night wore on, there was more—a peck on the cheek, a hug—enough to ruin lives. And that fucker knew it. In short, he blackmailed me. Four years under his thumb, doing his bidding, letting him take credit for my ideas, working overtime for free. He used my youth, inexperience, and fear against me.”

“Holy crap. Okay, that’s criminal. We’re taking that motherfucker out,” Raine hissed.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s not necessary. I’ve already handled the hard part.” I snort-laughed, continuing in a thoughtful lilt. “The funny thing…I was more concerned about my father’s reaction than anything else. You know, he went to his grave thinking I was straight.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Aye, me too. I thought that was a job well done by me, but I soon realized I’d missed an opportunity to show him he was wrong. That it’s possible to be a successful, proud homosexual. I’ll regret that forever. I think it’s another reason I have a particular vendetta against Blower. He fed my fear.”

“What’d you do about him? Please tell me it was something epic like a public smackdown with rainbow strobe lights and a Madonna playlist.”

“No, I simply got smarter and played the long game. Remember, he’s the one with the floundering firm, not me. Nothing makes your enemy battier than your success.”

Raine hummed thoughtfully. “Then why are you letting him get to you now? And don’t say you aren’t. You’ve been doing the grumpy bear shuffle all afternoon.”

I skewered him with a dark look. “A grumpy bear…what?”

“Shuffle.” He bit his bottom lip and did a side-to-side mini dance.

“You really are a nutter.”

“Guilty, but I’m not wrong. You think he’s messing with your deal to spite you, and it’s working. He’s under your skin.”

“Hmph. Maybe he is,” I grumbled. “Change the subject before I get angry all over again.”

Raine patted my hand and popped a chip into his mouth. “We can’t have that. Salisbury Cathedral is gorgeous. Did you know the Magna Carta is there?”

I listened with half an ear as he chattered on about important historical figures and events in Salisbury, and the old lady who’d dared to eat a homemade tuna sandwich on the train. It didn’t take long for me to forget my angst. It was easy to do with Raine. He made me laugh and gave me a reason to stay in the moment. Nothing important was happening outside this pub. My worrieswould be right where I left them in the morning, so why not just enjoy?

We ordered soup and burgers, and another round, and spent the next hour or so discussing a medley of topics ranging from rugby rules, Jane Austen’s best novels, and who discovered popcorn. I know…ridiculous. This was how conversations with Raine evolved. Or devolved. One second we were discussing architecture and literature, the next…popcorn.

“Corn is many thousands of years old. The first instance of popped corn probably occurred in Mayan times,” I stated, pushing my glass aside.