Page 136 of Something Like Winter

“Another one for you.”

There he was! Not Bo Williams and his fake beard but Benjamin Bentley. And he looked fantastic. Age had done him more favors than harm. His once-blond hair was cut short, darker now and closer to matching his brown eyes. The summer sun made his skin appear radiant and healthy, and he didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on his thin frame.

Tim could see by Ben’s expression that he was having entirely different thoughts about him. Was that pity?

Then Tim heard a familiar scoff. Ryan was standing farther away, wearing a smug expression.

“What are you doing here?” Tim said, jaw clenching.

“Me?” Ryan shouted. “I should be the one asking that, if it wasn’t so obvious. I checked your computer. I know you’ve been coming here!”

“So what? It’s a theater!”

“Withhimin it? Like that’s an accident?” Ryan marched forward; Tim met him halfway. “You’re pathetic, you know that? You have the nerve to kick me out for sleeping around on you—”

Too much! Tim couldn’t take it anymore. Here he was in front of Ben again after all this time, looking and feeling like hell, and Ryan was spouting everything ugly about his life. Red blinded his vision. He just wanted Ryan to shut up, to stop spewing venom and go away.

“Let go of him!” The voice sounded like Ben’s, but it was far away. “I said let go!”

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and Tim swung around defensively. Then the world came back into focus and Ben was staring at him in fear.

Oh god.

“That’s right, show him how you treat me!” Ryan shouted. When Tim turned around, Ryan was lifting up his T-shirt sleeves to reveal the bruises he got last week when Tim had shaken him in anger. Now, just above them, were fresh red handprints. “Did he do this to you, too?” Ryan said. “Is that why you left him?”

Tim turned to explain, but Ben no longer appeared afraid. He looked angry. Tim couldn’t hold his gaze.

“I’m going to kill myself,” Ryan shouted. Tim heard the front door open. “I’m going to kill myself and leave a note blaming it on you!”

The door slammed after him. The silence that followed was thick. This was humiliating.

“I guess I should go after him,” Tim said lamely.

“I guess you should.”

He reached the door, his hand on the push bar. He couldn’t leave it like this. Ben had seen him do plenty of terrible things, but this was too low. Tim turned his head. “La Maisonette, tomorrow. Seven o’clock?” When Ben didn’t answer, he added, “Please?”

Ben sighed. “All right.”

Tim left the theater, head hung low. He found Ryan half a block down, waiting at a bus stop, arms wrapped around himself.

“Come on,” Tim said, not bothering to stop. “I’ll drive you home.”

Half a minute later Ryan rushed to catch up to him. “I hate you,” he said.

“Yeah. I kind of figured that.”

Ryan sniffed. “You still love him, don’t you? Admit it.”

“I have a bad habit of loving people I shouldn’t, but don’t worry. He shares your opinion of me.”

They didn’t talk during the drive home or the rest of the night. When Ryan announced he was having a party the next day, Tim merely shrugged. At least it would keep Ryan occupied while he went to dinner with the love of his life and tried to explain the colossal mess he’d gotten himself into.

Chapter Thirty-one

A fresh haircut could work wonders. Today, Tim needed something more miraculous than that. He stared forlornly at his reflection in the car’s flip-down visor. The stylist had done the best she could, but even cleanly shaven he still looked like life had taken a dump on him. Too many parties, sleepless nights, and arguments. Too much Ryan.

Flipping up the visor with a resigned sigh, Tim went into La Maisonette early and had the waiter bring him a bottle of wine. He intended it to be ready and waiting when Ben arrived, but his nerves got the better of him and he poured himself a glass. Or two.