Page 21

21

PATRICK

W e're sitting on the sofa, watching television and drinking wine for the past couple of hours. I try to steal glances at him. He smells so good, and the way the buttons strain and the fabric gaps between his pecs makes my cock jump.

I haven't even been paying attention to what's been streaming on TV for the last half-hour, and truth be told, I don't give a damn. All I want to do is rip Michael's buttons off with my teeth, one by one. I take another sip of my wine and close my eyes. Instantly, my mind fills with images of his hairy, muscular chest. He's a true daddy in every sense of the word, and I have no idea how I got so lucky.

He's older than me, but still looks and acts young. We have so much in common, and I really don't want to keep looking. I sigh, careful to do so under my breath. Michael is perfect for me. So, when is the other shoe going to drop? When is he going to inform me that he likes to eat puppies? Or that he enjoys having sex when death metal plays in the background. Patrick, I think... stop being so judgmental. But I can't help it... I don't like those things, and they'd be deal-breakers. When are the deal-breakers going to reveal themselves?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Michael asks.

Not on your life, buddy. "Huh?" I need to buy myself some time to think.

"You haven't said anything for a while. Are you okay? I'm having a really nice time with you."

"Me too," I say. "There's nothing wrong."

"But?" His voice betrays his own worries. His eyes are so blue, drawing me in, begging me to kiss him.

"Full disclosure?"

"Definitely." He shifts his weight so he can turn and face me.

"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"What do you mean?"

How do I explain that I have the worst luck in the world? As an adult, I've never even been in love. I shrug. "I keep waiting for a romantic comedy turn of events to happen. Like you're going to reveal you're actually married... or you were only looking to make a new friend."

"Oh my god." He puts a hand to his chest, grasping imaginary pearls.

"Come on," I say. "Just tell me you have two weeks to live. Or you're moving to Pakistan or something."

He grabs my hands and pulls me closer to him, leaning in and slowly kissing me on the lips. He tastes like Rosé, and his tongue slips into my mouth with a flurry of sensation.

"I don't have any secrets... there's nothing I'm keeping from you. Promise," he says as he pulls away, but then kisses me once more with soft, sensuous lips. My belly tingles with desire. My hands tremble with the need to rub his chest and shoulders, and then tear his clothes from him.

I clear my throat, tight with emotion and sexual desire. "I believe you."

He smiles.

I smile, reaching for his chin and then pulling him closer once again. This time, I kiss him. Standing, I slowly straddle him.. The naughty smile I'd hoped to see spreads across his face. The twinkle in his eyes tells me all I need to know, he's as ready as I am, and it's go time.

Michael's erection pushes against my bottom as I grind my hips into him. He moans, our lips never coming apart from one another. Within seconds, we've found our rhythm, both our bodies rubbing against each other with optimal feeling. Michael wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight.

He kisses my neck, soft and sweet. He whispers, "Patrick, you make me feel real... wanted, for real."

His words cause me to flinch, and I pull away. You make me feel real. These were the exact words Ricky in high school had said whenever we were together and alone. It wasn't until we were away from everyone else that he opened up to me and became the person he'd been born to be.

"What's wrong?" Michael asks, concern etched across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

I pull away, backing off his lap and stand. What can I say? How can I still be affected by this? What the hell is wrong with me? I shake my head and cross my arms. Fighting the urge to run away, I grab both our empty wine glasses and head for the kitchen.

"I'll get us a refill." I hurry away, instantly wanting to kick myself in the butt. Here I go again, ruining a good thing. I open the refrigerator and pull out a fresh bottle, white wine this time.

Looking back into the living room, I can see Michael still sitting there watching television, although I'm sure he isn't actually paying attention. He's most likely trying to figure out what the hell my problem is. I pour wine into the glasses, then slowly walk back and hand him one.

"Thank you," he says, taking the wine. He immediately takes two gulps. Yep, he's freaked out, and why wouldn't he be? I'm acting like a freak.

I lower myself down next to him on the sofa and sigh. "I owe you an apology."

He shakes his head. "You don't ever have to apologize. If you're not ready... you're not ready. I can be patient."

"It's not that," I say. "Or at least it's not just about that."

"What is it then?" he asks. "I don't want you to feel pressured into anything."

"I don't," I say.

"Then, what is it?" He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "If I said something or did something wrong, please tell me. Patrick, I really like you."

Michael's tone is so heartbreaking. I made him blame himself. This is exactly why I've struggled to be intimate with someone I care about. Wait... I care about him. I must really care about Michael.

This is a really good thing. Suddenly, my spirits feel lifted. My feelings are really starting to come to the surface, and I want to keep it going. "It's not you... it's me."

"You're ending this already?" His eyes go wide.

"No," I say. "No... nothing like that." I start laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"

I try to explain, but I can't stop myself. This whole thing has been so ridiculous. "I'm sorry. It's not so much funny as it is stupid."

He rests back against the sofa. "Care to share?" His expression has softened and he clearly feels better than he did just a few moments ago.

Regaining control of myself, I take another sip of wine. "First, do you have enough wine?"

He looks at his glass and nods.

"Okay," I say with a smile. "You're going to need it after this story."

Michael smirks. "This I've got to hear."

"We're going to have to jump into a way-back machine," I say. "Picture it, Senior Prom... 2018."

“First of all, ouch,” Michael says with a laugh. “Now, I feel really old.”

I swat his arm. “Don’t. You’re gorgeous. Anyway, the Varsity Football Quarterback, Ricky and I had a special moment in the boys’ room. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was draining him dry in the back of his pickup truck.”

“Hot.”

“Yes,” I agree. “But I caught feelings for him. He was a real nice guy… when no one else was around. We had more in common than our joy of gay sex. He was actually a really interesting guy, and I fell so hard for him.”

“What happened to him? Did he die?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. I kind of feel like it was actually worse. We would have sex, laugh, talk, and figure out how we were going to conquer the world together… but that was only while we were alone. At school or in public, I was lucky when he ignored me… sometimes he’d even laugh and point at me with his football buddies. Each and every time it was a knife in my chest.”

Michael reaches for my hand and holds on. It's nice. Seems like he isn’t going anywhere. I swallow down my rising emotions.

“Eventually,” I continue, “I couldn’t take it any longer. It got to the point where I didn’t want to go to school, couldn’t bear to see him with his friends or in public. I stopped going out with friends for fear of encountering him at parties or places the kids from school wanted to hang out.”

“Did I say something that triggered you?”

I nod. “He would say to me, ‘when I’m with you I feel real’. When you said that, it was like a gut punch. I know you didn’t mean it… and it’s stupid because it’s been years since this all happened, but my feelings were really destroyed that year.”

“I’m so sorry you went through something like that. I can’t even imagine.” He shakes his head. “There’s probably nothing I could really say to make you feel better at this moment, but please know… I’m not Ricky. I would never walk away that easily from someone like you. You’re honestly fantastic… smart, cute, funny… kind.”

Letting out a held breath, I fall back into the sofa. “Tell me more.”

Michael laughs. I laugh. I feel so much better… telling him the truth. Even my bestie, Tina didn’t know the entire story.

“Patrick,” he says, putting the wine glass down on the coffee table. “I am falling for you.”

I nod and swallow down the lump in my throat. “I truly believe you, and what that tells me is I am also falling for you.”

“We don’t have to solve anything tonight. There’s no sense in rushing into anything. In fact, time is on our side. Especially since I’m not planning on moving to Pakistan… unless you’ve got something crazy up your sleeve you haven’t mentioned yet?”

I smile. “Maybe… but nothing that can’t wait until next time. Like you said, time is on our side.”

Michael gets up and offers his hand to me. I take it, and he pulls me up into an embrace. I melt into his chest, my arms wrapped around the lower part of his chest. I can hear his heartbeat as he holds me. Nothing has felt so right for so long.

“I’d like to stay the night, Patrick,” he says.

We rock back and forth a slowly, neither of us letting go of the other. There’s nothing I’d like more than to have this burly man sleeping next to me in my bed. All night. But, I also can’t expect him to come running to my side like I’m some damsel in distress. Sure, it was great in the movies, but wouldn’t that make me some kind of little bitch?

I pull away and we gaze into each other’s eyes. My heart begins to beat faster and I can’t help but tremble with desire. “I want you to stay, but I think I have to prove to myself I’ll be fine here alone.”

“No,” he says. “There’s nothing to prove. I want you to be safe… to help you stay safe.”

Grabbing his hand, I kiss his fingertips and then go up on my tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. “I love hearing you say that. Just knowing how much you care about me is comfort enough. But no,” I say. “I need to stay by myself tonight.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” His eyes search mine for any indication of my faltering resolve.

“I’m sure,” I say with a smile. “And look, I’ll use one of my kitchen chairs to wedge under the front door… just in case.”

“Well, in that case, I should go,” he says. “I think you got this all under control, and there’s a lot to do in the morning for work. The investigation keeps growing.” Michaels tone was soft and unconvincing, but he would abide by my wishes.

Such a good man.

“I’m guessing you can’t tell me anything about it, but you know I’m dying to know everything.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Hopefully soon I’ll be able to tell you all the gritty details. Any chance you’re available to have dinner on Thursday?”

I pull away and grab my phone. “Let me check my schedule.” I pull up the calendar and smile. “Wide open that day.”

“Perfect,” he says. “I was thinking of cooking for you? Would you enjoy that?”

“As long as I don’t have to cook, I’d love it.” I shove the phone into my pocket and start toward the front door.

“Not much of a cook, huh?”

“My favorite recipe is, making reservations.”

We share a quick laugh as he walks through the door. He turns back, our eyes locked.

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“Being real.”

He nods and walks away. I close the door and lean against it. Could he really be this perfect for me?