Page 51 of The Holy Grail

Cantankerous

“Well? How did it go?” Jules asked Malcom, when she let him into her place.

He went straight to the cabinet with her liquor in it and poured himself a few fingers of Maker’s Mark, then took a drink.

Jules blinked at him. “That good?”

“It didn’t … go well,” he said.

“You seem kind of disturbed. What happened?”

Malcom finished off his drink. “He, uh, grabbed my dick.”

She blinked at that unexpected nugget, not surprised when an image of Evan grabbing Malcom’s dick popped into her head with sharp clarity. Nor was she surprised, really, when she liked it.

“Through my jeans, I mean,” Malcom clarified.

Adjusting the image in her head slightly, to have less nudity (but still liking it), Jules asked, “Why? I mean, he probably did it because he wanted to, but how did that come about? Because I didn’t grab it until like the third date.”

“I think he was trying to make a point.”

“What point?”

“That he wanted all of me.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way to get the point across.”

“You don’t seem upset.”

“That he grabbed your dick? ”

Malcom gave a hesitant nod, like he thought she was going to blow a gasket.

“I’m not upset,” she said. “Does it upset you that I’m not upset?”

“No … I don’t think so.”

“Did you like it?”

“When he grabbed my dick?”

It was her turn to nod.

“Yes, I liked it.”

“Did you get hard?”

“Yes, I did,” he admitted, after a brief pause.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, it would be a bit of a problem if you didn’t, right? So, you liking it is a good thing.”

They looked at one another for a few seconds, and then Malcom said, “He also kind of had me up against a door in a choke hold.”

Now that was a really interesting nugget, and Jules let the image unfold in her mind.

“You’re frowning,” he said, looking uncertain.

“Probably because I’m wishing I could have seen it.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

Because he seemed a little shell-shocked—from both the encounter with Evan as well as the conversation with Jules—she led Malcom to her couch so they could sit down and be comfortable. “Why don’t you tell me everything that happened,” she suggested. “From the beginning.”

He began slowly, but quickly gathered steam, and when he got to where he asked Evan, “What if I was ready for it now?” Jules broke in. “That wasn’t a bad segue,” she mused.

“I thought so, too, and he seemed really shocked. Then he took my hand and …” Malcom quickly explained how the shit had hit the fan.

“Part of my reaction was because it was unexpected, but most of it was because it was the first time, you know? I assume he held another guy’s hand for the first time in high school, but I’ve never done that, so my …

anxiety … kicked in and I looked around to see if anyone was watching. ”

“Oh.”

“He didn’t like that, either. He told me if I couldn’t even have my hand held, I wasn’t ready for a triad. ”

Jules sighed. “He’s not wrong, Mal. Do you really think you can handle it?”

“Well, not all at once, but … maybe we could work up to the public stuff? Because this is new for me—hell, I only admitted to liking guys five minutes ago.”

“I know.” She gave him an empathetic look.

“But, I also think a lot of your anxiety over this is you projecting your dad’s shitty prejudices against gay people onto all the other people around you.

I’m sure when you looked around, probably no one was even paying attention.

Or, if they were, they didn’t even care. Am I right?”

“Yes, but—”

“But you’re not going to be able to throw off the fear of your anticipated response overnight. I get it. It’s definitely something that needs to be worked on, though.” She narrowed her eyes as something occurred to her. “Maybe it would help if you talked to someone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like a therapist.”

“You think I should talk to a therapist about being bisexual?”

“No, I think you should talk to a therapist about your anxiety associated with it.”

It didn’t sound very appealing, but he said, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” she replied, knowing it was better than nothing. “If you decide to give it a shot, I’ll get you the contact information for the therapist Paige and Jacob have seen. She’s amazing.”

“All right.”

He then continued telling her the rest of the story—how he followed Evan into the back office to continue their conversation, and when Malcom got to the ‘scared little boy’ comment, he could feel himself flushing again.

“Hmm,” she murmured.

“That pissed me off, so we got into it a little bit—”

“Good for you. He was being a dick.”

“He wasn’t done. He then told me to have the balls to own it, even if it meant I had to grow a pair, first—” Malcom paused at Jules’ frown, then kept going.

He told her about Evan not thinking Malcom was ready, or would ever be, and how the monologue on them being great together led to one of Evan’s hands at Malcom’s throat and the other one on his cock, which turned into a bit of a hand job.

“One of his waitresses knocked on the door because she needed Evan out front, so that broke up our little encounter. Before he left, he told me it was great I’d taken the deadbolts off my closet door, but just peeking out of it wasn’t enough. ”

Jules took it all in for several moments. “Well, that’s not how I thought it would go, to be honest.”

“Me, either.” He took a deep breath. “So, now what?”

“Well, I think we move on to the next step, which is the three of us getting together to talk.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

Jules pulled out her phone and texted Evan.

JULES: I think the three of us should get together and talk.

To her surprise, it didn’t take long for him to reply.

EVAN: Why? JULES: Because this you and me talking, then you and Mal talking, then Mal and me talking is stupid.

We need to sit down, all three of us together, and have a conversation.

EVAN: I don’t see the point. He’s not ready.

JULES: I disagree. EVAN: Let me rephrase that.

He’s not ready for ME. JULES: So when are you available to have a sit-down?

JULES: The sooner the better. EVAN: I. DON’T.

SEE. THE. POINT. JULES: Stop with the shouty caps.

They don’t work on me. JULES: And quit being cantankerous.

EVAN: Cantankerous? EVAN: Ouch. JULES: How does tomorrow night work for you?

EVAN: It doesn’t. JULES: Tuesday night? EVAN: Sorry.

JULES: Wednesday night? EVAN: That’s no bueno .

Knowing he was just being a pain in the ass at this point, Jules decided to put an end to it, by taking a page out of David’s playbook.

JULES: Okay, here’s what’s going to happen … you can either give me a night you’re available to talk, or Mal and I are going to ambush you at work. JULES: It’s your choice.

To her amusement, the three dots appeared and disappeared several times before she finally got a response.

EVAN: FINE. EVAN: Wednesday night it is. JULES: Good. We’ll see you at 7:00 p.m.? JULES: We can have dinner and talk. EVAN: FINE. JULES: I’ll text you Mal’s address. EVAN: FINE.

Jules actually chuckled at his attitude as she sent him the address, adding a few smiling emojis, just to annoy him some more.

“What’s so funny?” Malcom asked.

“He’s being a brat,” she replied, handing him the phone so he could read the texts.

When he was done, Malcom said, “He is the youngest one of us, so ...”

“He is?”

“Well, I believe he’s seven years younger than me, and you’re five years younger than me, which makes him two years younger than you ...”

“Which makes him the youngest.”

Malcom gave her a somewhat amused look. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know he was younger than me,” she murmured, although truth be told, she had never given it much thought. “Being older than him feels kind of strange.”

“How do you think I feel, for Christ’s sake?”

Jules pressed her lips together to stifle her amusement. “You must feel really strange?”