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Kaje Harper
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After the five years he spent with his last lover, Cade has

come to regard Valentine’s Day as irrelevant - just another day
when romantic chumps spend money they can’t spare to keep
the chocolate and greeting card companies happy. But his lover,
Lorin, has been dead for eight months. After struggling to get past
his grief, and cope with his HIV positive status, Cade is beginning
to think about getting on with his life. Joel, a young co-worker, is
not the person Cade would have chosen to share his battered and
tainted renaissance . But Joel may be just the man to unfreeze the
romantic in Cade’s soul.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by
MLR Press, LLC
3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.
Albion, NY 14411

Visit ManLoveRomance Press, LLC on the Internet:
www.mlrpress.com

Cover Art by Deana C. Jamroz
Editing by Amanda Faris

ebook format ISBN#978-1-60820-608-7

Issued 2011

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication
or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of
International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and
upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot
be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can
be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the
publisher.

Possibilities

Cade opened the office door and ducked in swift reflex.

Something light and sinuous wound itself in loving coils around
his ears.

“Oops, sorry!” Ardith’s voice held stifled laughter. She stepped

down off her stool, and helped him untangle the strands of red
cord and sparkly hearts from their grip on his head.

“If this is a trap, you caught the wrong guy,” Cade told her.
“I know that. I really was hoping I’d get it strung up before

anyone came in. You’re early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Something in the new meds was screwing

with his day/night cycles. He was prone to dropping off at odd
moments during the day and then felt restless and wide awake
at night. Maybe he should just write that great American novel
after all. It would beat staring at the ceiling. Too bad his brain
usually felt too cottony and unfocused for coherent prose. Maybe
he could write the great American porn novel. No focus needed
there. At least he’d had an interest lately, which was more than he
could say for the previous six months.

And his mind was wandering again. Fuck.
He handed Ardith the last of her over-amorous decorations

and headed for his desk.

His computer booted right up, which was a good sign. Maybe

the gods of Linux were smiling on him today. Ardith hummed as
she taped her garlands to the wall. The little hearts sparkled in the
fluorescent lights. Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Huh.

It had never been a holiday he and Lorin had celebrated.

Lorin wasn’t much of a sentimentalist, and sparkly hearts had
definitely not been the man’s style. Unless it had been a heart-
shaped sparkly jock-strap, maybe. Cade had a moment of regret
that he had never tried that for Valentine’s. Maybe that would

Kaje Harper

have made a dent in Lorin’s bah-Cupid attitude. Well, too late
now.

The door popped open again and Ardith teetered on her

stool. The young man who had burst in grabbed her arm and
steadied her.

She laughed. “Maybe I should just stay here with this garland

until a straight guy walks in. It seems to be a guy-magnet.”

Joel let go and made a swipe for her head. “But what if the

next guy is Steven?”

“Um. Good point.” Ardith wrinkled up her nose. Personally

Cade would have paid to watch her drop sparkly hearts on the
boss’s head. But he understood why she hurriedly fixed the last
free end of the garland and put the stool away. Steven did not have
much of a sense of humour.

Joel wandered over and leaned on Cade’s desk. “So. Plans for

tomorrow?”

“You’re kidding, right?” He’d never figured Joel for insensitive.
Joel flushed red. “No, sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Just small talk.

Me either. I mean, I don’t have a date either. Not in forever. Not
that I think you should be dating again but… okay, I’m just going
to go sit down and work now.”

Cade fixed his eyes on his screen, so as not to stare at Joel

walking hastily away. Not that I think you should be dating again.
The damned thing was, he was thinking about it. How long was
long enough that you didn’t feel guilty for wanting to move on
after losing the love of your life? Or the guy who should have been
the love of your life, perhaps. How many months; how many
years? Was it some kind of ratio, like a month for every year you
were together? Five years of loving Lorin, five years of arguing
and laughing and hot sex and cold anger, highs and lows, and the
long, drawn-out ending. Did that last year count more or less,
when Lorin was so sick? At least they had finally been exclusive,
until Lorin’s interest had been lost to the never-ending parade of
discomforts and humiliations, large and small.

Possibilities 9

It had been almost eight months now. Cade realized he no

longer knew the exact number of days without looking at the
calendar. Surely that was long enough. But it was complicated,
and he wasn’t ready, and damn the man. A familiar wash of grief
and anger went through him. Not yet. He turned determinedly
to his work.

Fortunately, the buggy program he was tackling was

complicated enough to keep him focused. Three hours later he
had made very little progress. He pushed his chair back and
rubbed at his stiff neck. He should get up, go out somewhere and
walk for a bit, but he didn’t have the energy. He ate at his desk,
forcing his sandwich down despite a vague distaste for it. The
salami had an odd flavour. He wondered if it was just his lack
of appetite, or if the meat had gone bad. Or maybe some other
odd taste-altering side effect of a medication. He seemed to be
the world champion of idiosyncratic drug reactions. Not the bad
ones. He didn’t have the vomiting and the skin rashes and sky-
rocketing kidney and liver values that had put medication after
medication off the list for Lorin. No, what he got was dumb stuff,
like seeing auras around lights or developing ingrown toenails.
He had a sneaking suspicion his doctor hoped to write a research
paper describing his charming array of reactions.

Cade figured he should be glad if someone got a productive

use out of him.

He sighed and went back to staring at his screen. There was

something still not working about the website revision he was
doing for the office. A script that had always worked fine in the
past now gave him a complete web-server crash. He was beginning
to wonder if he needed to just write his own code for the damned
thing. A sharp sound made him look up, startled.

Joel had paused at his desk and rapped on the laminate top.

“Hey. Want a coffee?”

Cade definitely did. “Yeah, sure. Thanks!”
Joel held out a cup of the real stuff from the coffee shop down

Kaje Harper

the block, not the dregs out of the office pot. Cade took it and
sipped appreciatively. Mmm, heaven. This at least tasted right.

Joel hesitated uncertainly, and then said, “I hope I didn’t

offend you.”

“Offend?” Cade tried to figure out where that was coming

from. “By buying me coffee?”

“No, the Valentine’s date thing. I didn’t remember… How

long has it been?”

“Ah. No, don’t worry about it.” Joel had only been working

in the office for a couple of weeks so far. Someone, maybe Ardith,
had obviously filled him in on Cade’s back story because after a
first couple of days of shy but obvious interest, the guy had been
tiptoeing around Cade ever since. The Valentine’s date comment
had actually been a refreshing attempt at conversation. “Almost a
year. Don’t worry, it’s fine. I wasn’t offended.”

“Okay. Good. I mean, you know, I’m sorry about your

partner, but it’s good that you’re not mad at me.”

“Of course not.” Cade watched Joel head back to his desk.
Partner. That was the one thing Lorin had never been. Friend,

fuck-buddy, roommate, boyfriend, lover—yes. And maybe they
had been heading down that road to becoming true partners. At
least, Cade liked to think so. Those last few months before Lorin
got his diagnosis, Cade thought they had already been apart less.
Fewer nights when he came home to an empty house and a note,
Gone out to find some fun, see you tomorrow. Fewer nights when he
himself went off to a bar or dark theater, to pick up someone who
meant nothing more than warm willing flesh, but would help
even the score. Their open relationship had begun closing of its
own accord. Until that blood test slammed the door.

Fucking ironic that the months after Lorin had tested positive

had been the best of Cade’s life. He was scared, yeah, but Lorin
was finally his. Finally content to stay home and let Cade take
care of him and distract him and tell him it would be fine. After
all there were treatments, all kinds of drugs. No one died of AIDS

Possibilities 11

anymore. Unless they couldn’t tolerate the drugs that might
have worked. And then Lorin slowly got sick and Cade became
caretaker and nurse and cheerleader. But never partner.

Damn, he was morbid today. Cade forced his mind back to the

screen and his work. Time to concentrate on getting something
accomplished. He was successful enough that the end of the day
caught him unaware. Steven’s voice over his shoulder startled him.
“So, is it ready to go up?”

“Not quite.” Cade saved his work and stuck in a thumb drive

to make a back-up. He squinted up at his boss, wincing at the
crick in his neck.

“Tomorrow?”
“Maybe. I hope so.” Cade stowed the back-up safely in his

pocket and pushed his chair back. He stood and stretched. The
dull throb in his back told him he’d been in one position too long.
Ardith swore by those weird kneeler chairs. Maybe he’d have to
look into it.

Steven gave him a nod and headed for the door. Cade got

his things together and followed. The parking area was behind
the building. Steven’s Volvo was parked closest to the door. Cade
waited for the boss to back out of his spot before crossing the lot
to his old Camry wagon. It was a reliable beast, despite its age.
Better than the Porsche of Lorin’s. Lorin had adored that thing,
but it spent more time in the shop than out of it. It had sat in
the driveway for months after the funeral, until Cade couldn’t
walk past it one more time and sold it. The new owner had been
thrilled. And the wagon was all Cade needed anyway.

Cade popped the locks and then hesitated with his hand

on the door. All of a sudden the world was doing something
interesting in the way of a tilt and shimmy. Either Vancouver was
having a major earthquake, or he could add vertigo to his list of
new and exciting side effects. The general lack of screaming and
excitement in the passersby suggested the motion was all in his
head.

Kaje Harper

Cade leaned his hip against the door, clutched the edge of

the roof, and cursed slowly under his breath. He squeezed his
eyes shut and waited for things to stop spinning. He would have
gotten into the car to sit down but he had a queasy feeling that
if he tried to move at all, he would end up on the pavement and
not in the seat.

“Hey, are you okay?”
Cade made the effort to open his eyes. Joel stood peering at

him anxiously.

“I’m fine. Just dizzy for a second.”
“Can I do anything?”
Go away and not look at me? Because Cade wasn’t out about

this. The whole office knew he was gay. Most of them knew Lorin
had died of AIDS. He’d never said it out loud, but it didn’t take
a rocket scientist to figure it out. But not one of them, not even
Ardith, knew that six months after Lorin’s diagnosis, Cade came
up positive too. And he was going to do everything in his power
to keep it private. Bad enough that a couple of people had treated
him like some kind of plague carrier just from his contact with
Lorin, and his friends all seemed to think he was a fragile widower.
Time to move on folks. Except for the virus that kept on giving.

“I’m just going to sit for a minute.” Maybe having an audience

was good, because Cade managed to lower himself into the seat
without falling. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back on
the headrest. He’d always figured vertigo was like a merry-go-
round, a gentle swirling thing. This was more like the Camry had
suddenly become a rollercoaster at the CNE. A big one. Cade
swallowed hard.

“Um, you look like shit.”
Obviously Joel hadn’t gone away.
“Thanks so much.”
“Sorry. I mean you always look good, but you’re pretty pale

right now.”

Possibilities 13

“How can you tell?” Cade muttered. The days might be

getting longer, but it was still twilight in a poorly-lit parking lot.

Joel cleared his throat. “Do you want to… I don’t know, go

back inside and lie down? Or can I get you some water?”

“I think I’ll just sit here for a bit.”
“Okay.” But there was still no sound of Joel moving away.

Cade slitted his eyes open and looked over. Joel was just standing
there looking at him.

“You don’t have to hang around.”
“Maybe not. But I want to make sure you’re okay. Anyway, I

don’t think you should be driving.”

Cade was pretty damned sure about that. And what a fucking

pain in the ass. He’d have to call a cab, leave his car here… At least
it was old enough not to be attractive to thieves. This wasn’t the
greatest neighbourhood at night. “I’ll call a taxi.”

“I could drive you.” Joel’s voice was diffident. “Ardith said you

live in Burnaby. I do too. It’s not much out of my way. A cab will
cost you thirty bucks.”

At least. And Cade hated taxis, even the laid-back Vancouver

variety whose drivers only seemed to have half a death wish
instead of the full-blown Montreal suicidal style. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Although, do you think maybe we could take my

car? I hate leaving it here.”

Right. Which meant getting up. Of course, since he was

sitting in the driver’s seat he’d have to get up either way. Cade slid
his legs out and stood. And wavered. Joel caught his elbow with a
strong hand for such a slender man. “Or maybe I should call an
ambulance.”

“No. I’m fine.” He was. The dizziness was actually backing

off. Cade straightened and moved a step away from the door. So
far, so good.

“I’ve got your bag.” Joel said. Cade winced. He hadn’t realized

he’d dropped the thing. Good thing the laptop was padded.

Kaje Harper

Joel had a new-looking Civic hybrid. No wonder he hadn’t

wanted to leave it in the lot. He held the passenger door open
for Cade. There was less legroom than in the big Camry, but still
enough. Cade was barely six feet tall, not a giant like Lorin’s six-
four. When the Camry died he could get something smaller…

Joel stowed Cade’s bag in the back seat and looked at him

anxiously, holding the door. “You’re sure you don’t want to see a
doctor or something?”

“I’m fine. Probably just a little food poisoning. My sandwich

at lunch tasted off.” That was even true. It could be possible.

“Okay.” Joel walked around and slid behind the wheel. “Tell

me if you need me to stop.”

Cade’s lips twitched—Joel was probably picturing him puking

on the still-new seat. Then the world tilted and his stomach
lurched enough to wipe the incipient smile out. It wasn’t out of
the realm of possibility. “I’ll let you know.”

Joel was a considerate driver, and their progress was as gentle

and jolt-free as a rush-hour commute could be. As they merged
on the highway, Joel said, “Hey. I can use the HOV.” He changed
lanes and accelerated smoothly. “You know, maybe we should car
pool, just for this.”

“Maybe.” Or maybe not. Becoming better friends with this

bright, attractive, untainted young man might not be wise.

Cade gave brief directions as they came to the exit. It was odd,

so familiar and yet so alien to be sitting there being chauffeured
by another guy. Back when they were both healthy—Cade had
almost thought when they were young—Lorin had loved to drive.
Plus he had had the far sexier car. Cade had spent many evenings
sitting in the passenger seat as Lorin took them out to some
restaurant or club. Lorin would have been talking a mile a minute,
griping at the other drivers, telling Cade about his day, his plans.
There would have been none of this oddly restful silence. But the
bulk, the warmth and sheer presence of a man beside him was
the same.

Possibilities 15

Joel pulled up in front of Cade’s house and looked over at

him. After some undecipherable pause for thought, he turned off
the car and pocketed the keys.

“You don’t have to come in,” Cade said. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You still have this glazed look. At least I’m going to

see you inside and make sure you don’t fall down the steps.”

“It’s not that bad. Really.”
Joel’s steady gaze didn’t look likely to be moved. Cade sighed.

He stood up out of the car carefully, but hey presto, he really was
fine. No tilting, no nausea, thank the side effect fairies. Joel got
Cade’s bag out before he could do it himself, and followed Cade
up the walk. As they stepped in the door, Cade was aware of the
staleness of the air inside. It felt like a damned museum, not a
place someone lived. There was dust on everything. It wasn’t really
dirty; all the trash was bagged, he did the dishes religiously. It was
just… untended.

He turned to Joel and reached for his stuff. “Thanks. Really, I

appreciate the ride.”

Joel looked around. “Cool place. I love the high ceilings and

the mouldings.”

Cade had too, once. How long since he had even noticed

them? “Thanks.”

“Is the kitchen the same vintage? Nineteen twenties, right?”
“Yes. But the kitchen was updated in just the wrong era.” Joel

looked intrigued. Cade couldn’t just throw the guy out. Against
his better judgement he said, “Come see the damage.”

Joel followed him toward the kitchen. The very air seemed to

sit up and take notice as he went past. Cade bit his lip and ignored
the effect.

“So see if you can guess the era here.”
Joel looked around and laughed. The avocado appliances,

dark cabinets and cute painted tiles on the wall above the sink
were apparently unmistakeable. “Has to be seventies. I’ve seen

Kaje Harper

pictures of my grandma’s place—I swear it had the same tiles.”

“My grandma’s stuff was that dark gold colour. Otherwise

identical.” Cade slid his bag onto the counter and went to the
sink. “Want coffee?”

“Sure. Great.” Joel sat on one of the tall stools along the

counter in the breakfast nook. Cade busied himself with filling
the kettle and getting out the good coffee. This room was where
he spent most of his time these days, when he wasn’t sleeping.
It was as lived-in as you could get. And yet even this room was
brighter with another person in it.

Don’t get stupid about this. As if to remind him why it would

be smart to send Joel on his way, another little wave of dizziness
went through him and he spilled a few grounds on the counter.
He set the bag down and held the edge firmly, waiting for it to
pass.

Joel’s hand was warm on his elbow. “Maybe you should sit

down, let me make the coffee. Or do you want to lie down? You
don’t need to entertain me. Do you want to call your doctor or
something?”

Get it over with. Cade turned around, putting the counter

supportively at his back, and looked at Joel. The man’s brown eyes
were gorgeous, long-lashed and wide-set. They held nothing but
concern. Could change any minute now. “This is nothing new. I’m
HIV positive.”

Joel just looked back at him. Those brown eyes didn’t change,

didn’t cut away in discomfort or disgust. But still Cade waited for
the inevitable move that would put a little more distance between
them. He counted his breaths, as they stood there facing each
other.

Then Joel said softly, “Me too.”
It was Cade who recoiled, a small sound escaping his throat.

Fuck no! He was later proud of that reaction. Because his second
thought was, fuck, yes. “You—how old are you anyway?”

Possibilities 17

Joel’s eyes were laughing at him a little, damn the man.

“Twenty-two. And before you ask, I’ve been pos for four years.”

“That’s…” Cade didn’t think he could express how fucked up

that was. He was nearly thirty and it was still too damned young.

“I’m good,” Joel said almost gently. “Viral load undetectable,

CD4 cell count fine, and the meds rarely fuck with me at all. So
what about you? Is this symptoms or side effects?”

Cade sighed, like all the tension was just sliding out of his

chest. “Side effects. I hope.”

“So do you want to sit down or lie down?”
“I think I’ll sit.” He groped for the back of one of the kitchen

chairs and dropped onto it heavily. Joel took over the coffee-
making matter-of-factly. Cade watched his small, deft hands as he
measured grounds and located mugs and poured water. Watched
those hands and felt like hot water was flooding through his own
veins. Even the hint of dizziness blended in and became part of
this wash of I-want that had suddenly hit him.

Joel had come on to Cade in small, subtle ways when he joined

the office two weeks ago. And Cade had been studiously ignoring
him from day one. Because he would burn in hell before he would
take any chances with doing to some other man what Lorin had
inadvertently done to him. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed
Joel’s neat, compact body and curly dark hair and full lips. It just
meant he had very firmly put the man in the not-for-me category.
He’d figured his gradually reawakening libido would have to settle
for mental pictures and the touch of his own hand.

But Joel was positive. Didn’t mean they could be careless.

There were lots of strains of the virus, and mixing them could
be even worse news. But it was a whole different ballpark from
that first infection. And it would have taken more than the mild
vertigo he felt now to keep him from imagining just what would
happen if he took Joel up on one of those invitations.

Except Joel handed him coffee gently, with a look that was all

concern and no heat. Damn.

Kaje Harper

“Sit down and join me,” Cade said.
Joel picked up his own mug and pulled out the chair across

the table. He took a small mouthful of the brew and sighed
appreciatively. “Mm, good. I usually don’t like flavoured coffees,
but hazelnut is the one exception. Very nice.”

“Thanks. I like it.” He sipped his own, fumbling for how to

start a conversation. It felt so long since he had done this.

“So have you owned this place long? Or are you renting?”

Joel asked.

“Renting. Which is why the appliances are still avocado.”
“Ah. That’s a relief.” Joel smiled a little over the rim of his cup.

“I’d hate to think it was by choice.”

“Not likely.” What next? “Do you have a house? Or no,

twenty-two, probably not, eh?” Smooth, Cade, remind him how
much younger he is than you.

“I rent a studio over a garage. Small but nice and quiet.”
“Far from here?”
“Only ten minutes or so.” Joel glanced at his watch. “Although

maybe I should get going if you’re really okay.”

“Stay for dinner.” Cade no longer cared if he sounded

desperate. “I have a couple of steaks in the fridge. Cole slaw. Fries
in the freezer if you like.” No dessert. He hadn’t had much appetite
lately, but he wished this was one of the weeks he’d indulged his
fondness for cheesecake. He racked his brain for something else
to offer.

But Joel said, “Sure, I’d like that. I’ll even cook. Beats frozen

pizza in the microwave.”

“You microwave pizza?”
“It’s fast.”
“But soggy and limp.”
“True. And limp is never a good thing.”
Cade looked more closely. Joel’s eyes had regained a teasing

Possibilities 19

expression. “Don’t need to worry about that,” Cade muttered.
He wasn’t really hard, but it would take about two seconds of
thinking about Joel’s mouth to get there. He slid his legs a little
further under the table.

“Whereas slabs of thick meat are a good thing,” Joel continued.
Okay, not Cade’s imagination. “You talking or cooking?” He

would have taken the words back if he could. It was the kind of
thing he’d have said to Lorin, but he and Joel weren’t on those
terms. Joel was a guest. But Joel laughed and went to the freezer.

“Fries in here? Got any steak sauce?”
“Second cabinet over, bottom shelf.”
Joel turned out to know his way around a kitchen. He

hummed softly to himself as he pulled out a pan and a cookie
sheet for the fries, switched on the oven and located the plates. It
was a pleasant, companionable sound. Small-talk seemed to have
momentarily deserted Cade, but Joel seemed happy to just get the
dinner together in silence. Once, when Cade made a move to get
up and fetch the silverware, Joel snapped, “Stay put. Your food,
my cooking. You should take advantage. Anyway you still look a
little off.”

Cade subsided obediently. “Maybe I’m just hungry. I feel

pretty good.” Not that good was the right word for the mix of
emotions building in him, but it would do.

“Five minutes. Ketchup?”
“Yes.”
“I meant where?”
“Fridge.”
Joel brought two full plates to the table. The steaks were

succulent and brown, the fries steaming hot. Joel set Cade’s in
front of him and dropped into the other chair. “Mm, haven’t had
steak in a while.” He cut off a bit, popped it in his mouth, and
chewed with his eyes half shut. “Yum, that’s good if I do say so
myself.”

Kaje Harper

Cade tasted his. It was good. They ate in contented silence for

a few minutes.

“You know though,” Joel continued casually. “I miss really

rare bloody steak. And rare lamb and all of that. Hate having to
be careful and cook things well done. Sometimes it’s the fucking
little stuff that gets to me.”

Cade paused, a fry between his fingers, staring at Joel. How

could he talk that casually about it, and then take another big bite
and…

“What?” Joel paused to stare back. “Do I have ketchup on

my nose?”

“No, it’s just…” Cade shrugged, wondering how to put it

into words. “Sometimes it’s the fucking big stuff.”

“Yeah.” Joel’s eyes were kind. “I wasn’t trying to make light of

what happened to your partner.”

“No, it’s good. You’re right. With Lorin and me, it was so

damned hard, right from the start. He was sick when he was
diagnosed, and he never got really well. We didn’t have a time
when there wasn’t big stuff happening.” It had been life or death
drama, even at first when Cade was still negative and trying his
best to be optimistic about how it would all work out. Even when
there was that breathing space, when Lorin felt okay, and Cade
had almost made himself believe in forever. Neither of them had
quite forgotten about the sword hanging over their heads. And
Lorin was all about the drama, although to be fair this was one
time he hadn’t been overreacting.

“Damn, sounds exhausting,” Joel said. “There was a guy in

this support group I was in, who nursed his partner through till
the end. I have never seen a man as completely wiped out as he
was, body and soul.”

Cade stuffed more steak in his mouth. He hadn’t nursed his

partner through it.

§ § § §

Possibilities 21

He remembered the day he came home from work to find

Lorin trying to pack a bag. He’d taken the bag out of his lover’s
hands. “What the hell are you doing? You should be in bed.”

Lorin had looked at him, turned a little sideways because his

vision in one eye was almost gone. “I’m packing.”

“What for?” Cade had a moment of an odd mix of panic and

anger. “What did I do? Where are you going to go?”

“Oh no, Cade, you didn’t do anything.” Lorin put a hand on

his arm. “I just decided it’s time for me to do the hospice thing.”

“I don’t understand.” Cade sat heavily on the bed. “I thought

we decided against that. I thought when it was necessary I would
take a leave from the job and stay home. And we already have the
nurse coming in for the daytime anyway.”

Lorin sat beside him, the gracelessness of his drop to the

mattress a measure of the strength he had lost. “Cade, you decided
that. I’ve told you over and over, I won’t do that to you. I already
gave you the fucking plague. I won’t have you staying home taking
care of me and burning yourself out. It’s bad now but it’s going to
get fucking ugly.”

“I don’t care.”
“But I do! It’s bad enough to have you helping me to the john.

I’ll be damned if I want you wiping my ass and cleaning up my
puke and holding the damned bottle for me to pee into.”

“Done some of that already.” Lorin had been through a

couple of rounds of severe intestinal symptoms, but his doctor
had managed to get them back under control both times.

“I know. And I fucking hated it.”
“Oh.” Cade felt painful and cold, like someone had shoved an

icicle into his gut. “You didn’t say.”

“Cade.” Lorin’s dry fingers cupped his chin. “I love you. But I

really, really don’t want you seeing all the weak and nasty and ugly
shit I’m going to go through.”

“I thought that was what love was.” Cade was amazed that he

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could say these things. But it felt like he was fighting for his life
here. “Sharing the good and the bad, no matter how hard it gets.”

“I’m not sending you away. I still want to see you. I want

you around as much as you can manage to be around. But when
something ugly happens, I want you to be able to walk away for
a few minutes while someone who’s paid to do the job cleans up.
And then I want you to be able to come back and sit with me and
touch me and not think about shit.”

“I don’t mind.” Tears burned in Cade’s eyes. He blinked

valiantly.

“I mind.” Lorin pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s time, babe. I

cleared it with Dr. Chin, and he called to tell me a space is open.
You know, I couldn’t make it to the bathroom this afternoon. The
day nurse had to clean up and practically carry me back to bed. It
was pathetic. I’m a little better now, but it’s time.”

“A few more weeks. You just started on the new NRTI med.”
“And I just came off the new NRTI again. Dr. Chin says my

enzyme levels were through the roof. My liver doesn’t like this
one either.”

“Shit,” Cade whispered. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Lorin laughed and there was a hint of real amusement in it.

“Story of my life right now, babe.” He leaned back on the pillows
with a little grunt, and swung his legs up on the bed. “Do me a
favour, Cade?”

“Anything.”
“Could you pack my damned bag for me? Because you’re

right. I should be in bed.”

§ § § §

Lorin had spent the last three months of his life in hospice

care, fighting off one thing after another, wasting away while
Cade had been free to leave. Free to walk out and go to his job
or go home, to get away from the slow downhill slide that had
only one possible ending. Cade had no right to feel exhausted just

Possibilities 23

thinking about that time.

“My partner was in hospice care. It wasn’t that bad.”
Joel shook his head gently. “You’re a crappy liar. It was that

bad.”

“Maybe.”
Joel shoved the last of his fries into his mouth and stood up.

“I’ll get the plates. Dishwasher?”

“Sure. Put the pan in too.”
Joel loaded the dirty dishes in efficiently and then came back

and pulled his chair around to sit closer to Cade. “What can I do?
How do you feel?”

In sudden undeniable impulse, Cade grabbed one of those

small strong hands and placed it on the zipper of his jeans.

“Oh!” Joel smiled, slow and hot. “Are you sure you’re up for

that?”

“You can’t tell?”
“Well, sure.” Joel’s fingers trailed in languid loops across

Cade’s tight denim, tracing swirls with the rasp of his fingernails.
“But I don’t know how far you want to take this.”

Cade wasn’t either. But this chance might never come again.

“Can we go somewhere more comfortable and discuss it?”

“Absolutely. Bed or couch?”
“Bed.” Cade decided. Then if he got dizzy again he would

already be lying down. “This way.”

He led the way into his bedroom and paused. It was fairly tidy.

The bed was made, the blue comforter pulled up, no dirty laundry
on the floor. And it just felt odd to be bringing Joel in with him.
He braced himself against the feeling and went resolutely to sit on
the bed. Joel followed him but didn’t sit down. “Are you sure? Was
this your partner’s room too?”

“Lorin. His name was Lorin. And no. This was the guest room

then.” Cade had slept alone in the big bed across the hall every

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night of those three months. Well, all but those last few nights
he’d spent in the chair in Lorin’s room. But the day he came home
from the funeral he had made up this guest bed. His clothes and
stuff were still across the hall, but he no longer slept there.

“Good,” Joel said. “Fewer ghosts.” He put his hands on Cade’s

shoulders. His voice was firm and a little deeper. “Lie back and
let me in.”

Cade scooted over, eased himself flat on his back on the bed.

Joel kicked off his shoes and stretched out beside him, leaning up
on one elbow to look down at Cade’s face.

“You don’t have to…” Cade began.
“Shut up.” Joel bent down slowly, giving Cade time to dodge.

Which was the last thing on Cade’s mind. Joel kissed as if he had no
other plans, tracing Cade’s lips with his tongue before demanding
entrance. His lips were as soft as they looked, his tongue flavoured
with ketchup and coffee. Cade put a hand behind Joel’s head to
pull him in closer. He had missed this. Even more than the sex,
perhaps. This was something his own hand couldn’t do for him,
this sweet exploration, exchange of breath and need. Joel didn’t
pull back until they were both panting a little.

“Mm, you do that well.” Joel caught Cade’s wrist, pulling

Cade’s fingers out of his soft hair and kissing them wetly. “Do you
have other hidden skills?”

“I haven’t done this for a long time. Haven’t done anything

for a long time.”

Joel’s eyes softened. “Me either. It gets complicated. We don’t

have to go fast.”

Cade wanted the heat back. But he wasn’t sure if he was up for

negotiations and latex and mechanics. He put his fingers on the
big bulge in Joel’s jeans. “Maybe hands? Just that tonight?”

“I could do that. Oh, yeah.”
Cade found he hadn’t lost his touch. Joel was unfamiliar under

his fingertips, and yet the same. Soft velvet skin and coarse, dark

Possibilities 25

curls. Round, firm balls in their silken pouch, and hard shaft.
Joel responded to Cade’s touch with little moans and sighs that
were amazingly sexy. And his fingers on Cade were skilled too.
They didn’t undress all the way, just pulled clothes open enough
for access, and then undertook the serious business of driving
each other wild. Cade came first, in a blinding rush that took his
breath. The electric blast of orgasm shook him as he erupted in
Joel’s hand. Joel stroked him hard through it, until Cade’s hand
on his signalled the tipping point into too much. Joel let go and
smiled down into Cade’s eyes. “You are so fucking hot when you
do that.”

Cade arched up, pressing a wet open-mouthed kiss onto those

smiling lips. “Now let me see you.” Joel was close, steel hard and
leaking precum in Cade’s hands. Cade pushed him over on his
back and slid down Joel’s body to look and kiss as he pumped
his hands roughly. He sucked on the pale skin of Joel’s stomach,
pressing his nose into the sweet smell of clean male skin. Until
Joel fisted in his hair to tug his mouth up and away. “Gonna blow,
Cade. Oh God. Unh.” Joel came with a rush across Cade’s hands
and his own belly, shaking with the intensity of it.

In the sticky aftermath, Cade reached for the tissues. They

wiped fingers and dicks and stomachs without letting their eyes
meet. Cade smoothed his shirt down and refastened the last
button. Joel did some kind of interesting wriggle to get snug
pants back up over his ass. Cade rolled away from him to tuck and
zip and button. And stayed rolled on his side, staring at the wall.

“Are you okay?” Joel’s voice was hesitant.
Was he? Hell if Cade knew. But he said, “I’m good. That was

great. That was amazing.” Because it had been, at least in the sense
of blowing the top off his head in a way he hadn’t experienced in
months. Years. It wasn’t Joel’s fault that the wavering of Cade’s
vision wasn’t from tiredness but from tears.

Cade bit his lip hard. He was turning into some kind of girl.

He had never cried after sex. Not after the first time, when it had

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hurt and been over too fast, and left him disappointed and empty.
Not after the time they realized that they would absolutely have
to use a condom on Lorin for everything. Not even the last time,
when nothing he did was enough to break through Lorin’s pain
and fatigue to a place of pleasure. Lorin had ended up bringing
Cade off with his hands. And they had looked at each other, and
Cade somehow knew they would never do that again.

And if he hadn’t cried then, why the hell was he getting

weepy over a quick hand-job with a cute guy that meant nothing
more than a little tension release? He curled up more tightly and
breathed through his nose.

Joel’s hand rubbed briefly on Cade’s shoulder and then fell

away. “Should I go?”

“You don’t have to.”
“But you don’t want me to stay.”
Cade had no fucking clue what he did want. So he stayed

silent and closed his eyes.

There was rustling beside him as Joel slid to the edge of the

bed. The mattress bounced as he stood up. Then the scuffing
sound of shoes being toed on.

“Are you okay for me to leave you? Health-wise I mean?”
“Yeah.”
Joel’s steps left the room but a minute later he was back.

“Here. I got your phone from your jacket and I’ll put it on the
charger here, just in case. And there’s water. Do you have your
meds?”

Always. The flat pill case was hard in his pocket. The watch on

his wrist had an alarm function and he used it religiously. “Yes.
Thank you.”

“So I should go then.” But there was only silence.
Come on, Stevenson, you’re better than this. Cade made himself

roll over, open his eyes, and meet Joel’s worried ones. “Really,
Joel, I’m fine and I’m sorry. It’s just weird is all. And I feel kind

Possibilities 27

of crappy.” Which was true, in a way. He hurriedly added, “Not
about the sex. Or about you. You were awesome.”

Joel nodded slowly. “Too soon?”
“Maybe. I wish I knew. Too something.”
“Can I give you a lift in to work tomorrow? Since your car is

still there?”

Shit. Cade had forgotten that. He really should say no, cut

the guy off. Because Cade obviously wasn’t going to be good
company. Instead he asked, “What time do you go by here?”

“Whenever you like.”
“Seven-thirtyish?”
“Sure.” Joel sounded relieved that Cade had accepted the

offer. This was a bad idea.

“I appreciate it but you know…” Cade hesitated.
“It’s just a lift. Don’t worry.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m kind of fucked up.”
“You’re not fucked up. You have reasons to go slow. I get that.

I can wait.”

Cade wished he understood it himself, but he nodded

gratefully.

Joel’s eyes regained a little of their sparkle. “But just so you

know, that was damned hot. It’s been a long time for me too. And
I’m up for a rematch any time you say the word.”

He had to be some kind of idiot, because what came out of

his mouth wasn’t now but, “Thanks.”

“Any time. See you tomorrow.”
The house seemed very quiet after the front door closed

behind Joel. Cade lay in his bed in his work clothes and tried
to pick apart his own feelings. A job akin to picking through a
garbage bin, he thought. Was he feeling guilty? Surely he knew
better than to think he was cheating on a dead man. After all, in
their first three years together he’d had plenty of sex with other

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men, and Lorin had never cared. Except for maybe wanting to
watch. Why would the man care after he was dead?

Perhaps it was the virus. He wondered if he had somehow

decided never to come in the presence of another man ever
again. Never to spill his deadly seed on clean skin. But Joel was
positive—surely even his brain could figure that one out.

Maybe it was just differences. Different scent, smaller hands,

higher voice, different sounds when he came. A host of minor
differences that said that this man in his bed wasn’t Lorin, would
never again be Lorin. A rush of emotion caught at his throat,
and tears threatened. Oh, Lorin. Damn it. He’d thought he was
over this, past the first stunned emptiness and the later aching
pain and loss. So damned unfair of it to ambush him when he
had something, someone¸ good under his hands. But then it had
been a long time since he’d thought life had anything to do with
fairness. He rolled back over and pressed his face into the pillow,
where the sounds he was making would be smothered. Even
though there was no one there to hear him.

In the thin morning light, Cade woke stiff and sticky and

bleary-eyed. He realized he’d slept in his clothes. He felt grimy,
still tired and wrung out. The vertigo was gone but he still felt
odd. Empty in some new way that was different from other
recent mornings. He glanced at his watch. He had enough time
to shower before taking his seven a.m. meds. The hot water was a
benediction on his skin, cradling him in warmth and washing the
dregs of the night down the drain. He got out reluctantly, shaved
and dressed, took his meds and ate.

Joel rang the bell right on the dot of seven-thirty. In fact,

given the variability of traffic around the area, Cade had a
sneaking suspicion Joel had come early and waited down the street
somewhere. Joel’s pretty eyes were friendly but a little guarded as
he stood on the doorstep. “Hi, Cade, ready to go?”

Cade pulled the door a little wider. “Want coffee first?”
He saw Joel relax a bit even as the man shook his head. “That’s

Possibilities 29

tempting, but the traffic is a bitch at this hour and I have work
waiting.”

“Let me grab my bag.”
Joel’s car was already blessedly warm inside. Cade glanced

over while fumbling with the catch of his seatbelt. “I’m really
sorry about last night.”

Surprisingly Joel smiled. “I’m not. It was fun, and you were

hot. I really want to do it again. But only when you’re ready.”

“Don’t know when that will be.”
“I can wait.”
God, Joel’s smile was gorgeous, with that single dimple on his

right cheek. Cade turned to look out the window instead. They
rounded the corner and began navigating stop and go traffic
toward downtown. Familiar streets passed by, houses and small
stores, quiet in the cool light of morning. Suddenly his attention
was caught. “Stop here!”

Joel jumped a little at Cade’s tone but pulled over obediently.

“Here?”

“Yeah.” Cade stared out the window of the car at the gates of

the cemetery. It was dumb and weak and it would probably put
Joel off him for life, running away from him to visit a grave, but
Cade suddenly needed to talk to Lorin. “Let me out here. I can
get a cab after.”

Joel followed his gaze and blinked in sudden understanding.

“I can wait.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. I might be here a while.”
“I don’t mind.”
Cade shook his head. “You said you have work piling up. I’ll

see you in the office later.” He grabbed his bag out of the back and
shut the door firmly.

He headed through the open iron gates in the dawning

morning light. The familiar path led off to his right, slightly
downhill. He had come here often at first. He’d tended the grave

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and brought things Lorin would probably have laughed at in life.
He’d brought flowers, lots of flowers, and a flag on Canada Day.
Lorin would have preferred a good cigar. A wreath at Christmas.
Was that the last time he’d been here? He was no longer sure.

The headstone was simple, grey polished marble with Lorin’s

name and the dates, and the words “He lived, loved, died.” Lorin’s
choice. Cade wasn’t sure if it was some kind of in joke, or Lorin’s
attempt at being poetic. Cade snorted now. It did sum things up
pretty neatly. He reached out a finger to trace the O in Lorin’s
name. Round like a ring. They had never gotten as far as rings.

The ground was too cold and wet to sit on, but Cade

glanced around to be sure he was alone and then squatted on his
heels beside the stone. He leaned his shoulder against its cold,
supportive bulk.

“So, Lorin, I bet you thought I was gone for good, eh? I’m

sorry. I know it’s been a while.” He paused. He wasn’t really sure
what he was doing here. Was he really going to ask Lorin for
permission to date again, to feel again? Or was it some other
unfinished business?

“So it’s Valentine’s Day today. Bet you didn’t know that. Not

like you ever paid any attention to it when you were actually
here. But it is and I’m alone today, looking and wondering
and standing on the edge, because you, damn you, broke your
promise. Remember? The one you made when we first moved in
together, when we took the cable car up Grouse?” The view from
the top of the mountain was often obscured by clouds, but that
night it had been clear. The lights of the city with its bridges and
its water had been laid out beneath them.

“You said that world down there was ours. We were young

and beautiful and together. And that would never change. That
was just like you, Lorin. Always making promises you couldn’t
quite deliver on.” Although the man had tried. He just dreamed
bigger than his body could accommodate, then and later.

“So what do I do now, eh? How am I supposed to go on when

Possibilities 31

I’m not young and not beautiful, and you’re gone? Damn you!”
He choked, slamming the headstone with the heel of his hand,
and then dragged his sleeve across his face. “And I just might be
crazy, yelling at a dead man. Tell me I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” a woman’s voice said. “Just human. And if

you ask me, you’re still pretty young and beautiful.”

Cade jolted and looked behind him. In the next row over,

a woman sat on a plaque set into the ground, eyeing him with
a kind expression. She was old, with hair moving from grey to
white. Her face was lined and long, her nose large, her mouth
generous. Her clothes were loose and comfortable, with no hint
of style, and her hair held no more than the memory of a bad
perm. But her eyes were steady and warm.

“I shouldn’t butt in,” she said. “But I’m an incurable busybody.

And it would be a shame if you hurt your hand punching a rock.”

Cade rubbed his wrist sheepishly. “I guess that looked pretty

dumb.”

“Just unwise. What’s the rule for fighting? Hit the soft parts

with your hand and the hard parts with a utensil? Someone said
that and it’s good advice. Don’t hurt yourself more than the
person you’re mad at.”

“Can’t hurt him at all now. Pretty dumb to be mad at him.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She patted the edge of the plaque she was

sitting on. “I get mad at this old bastard a lot. He died of lung
cancer, you know. Almost ten years ago now. And sometimes I
come here and give him hell for leaving me alone.”

“He couldn’t help getting cancer.”
“He could have quit smoking. He kept saying he would. The

man kept promising me and then he would get busy, or stressed, or
any damn thing, and he would come home smelling of cigarettes.
I used to tell him tobacco was like a mistress he was sneaking out
to see. I told him it was a foul habit, and it made everything reek.
I told him smoking wasn’t sexy even when Johnny Depp did it.

Kaje Harper

And if that man couldn’t make it look attractive then my husband
had no hope. What?” Cade must have made some sound. She
shrugged. “You don’t think I should notice Johnny Depp is sex on
legs? I may be old but I’m not blind.”

“No, I just…” He lost his thought. “Ryan Reynolds is better

looking.”

“To each their own.” She pulled her jacket a little closer

around her and gentled her voice. “How long ago did he die?
Your boyfriend?”

He was past trying to follow this conversation. “Quite a

while. Eight months now.”

“Oh, honey.” She shook her head. “That’s not quite a while.

You’re still doing all the firsts. First Christmas alone. First New
Year’s. And today first Valentine’s Day.”

“This one doesn’t count for much. Lorin hated Valentine’s Day.

Said it was a conspiracy on the part of flower and greeting card
companies to get us spending money in between Christmas and
Easter. We never did anything, or exchanged gifts or anything.”

“And yet you’re here today. That was what Lorin thought.

What did you think?”

Cade started to voice his agreement with Lorin, and hesitated.

He could remember that first February. He’d known they weren’t
exclusive. And they’d only been together a few months. He hadn’t
expected anything for Valentine’s, with the way Lorin talked
about it. But he’d gone out and bought a card and some wine
anyway, and hidden it away. Just in case. But Lorin came home
wild and restless, and dragged him out to some bar and found
someone to bring home and share the bed with. Lorin had a gift
for that. It had been hot fast sex with a stranger, and after the
guy left, Lorin had said, “And that’s the only way to celebrate
Valentine’s Day.” Eventually Lorin had gotten dressed and gone
home, because they weren’t living together yet. Cade had ripped
up the card and opened the wine. It was good wine. But he had
been just twenty-three and barely out of school, and he’d had a

Possibilities 33

lot to learn.

“I never cared much. He would often bring me home chocolate

or something the week after Valentine’s, to show he didn’t need
some corporation telling him when to give me presents.”

Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “And by then it would be

cheap. So he was being thrifty and romantic.”

“Um.” Neither of those really applied to Lorin. But Cade

would take that interpretation. “Something like that.”

“And you miss him grumbling on about red hearts and cupids

and how people would spend money they didn’t have, to give
people they barely knew stuff they didn’t need.”

Despite himself, Cade’s lips twitched. “You met Lorin?”
“Maybe his older brother.” She reached down beside her

knees and brought out a small bouquet of daffodils. The hue of
their petals was startlingly bright, a blaze of yellow against the
sombre browns and greys of the graveyard on a cloudy morning.
“Old bastard brought me daffodils for Valentine’s once. Might
have been by accident. He was known to get his dates mixed up.
But now I bring him some, every year.” She began arranging the
flowers in a small vase. Her fingertips brushed over the bright
petals. “He said daffodils were my flower. Bright and loud and
hardy. First to appear in the spring, showing up in places they
hadn’t been planted, bringing cheer and sunshine.”

“He said that?”
She snorted. “Are you kidding? He was a man. He handed them

to me and said, ‘Here. These remind me of you.’ I extrapolated.”

Her fingers trembled a little as she steadied the full vase

upright. It might have been age, or cold. Cade said, “You miss
him.”

“Every damn day.” She straightened a stem. “Especially this

year.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked at Cage. “It
does get better, you know. Second year is easier than the first.
Third is better yet. You let go of a lot of things, regrets, disbelief.

Kaje Harper

The memories move back deeper, until you aren’t thinking about
them all the time. But they don’t disappear. And anger… I think
grief and anger are so twined together they both last. Sometimes
I come here and all I feel is sad and longing. Then sometimes I
want my husband back so I can punch him in the nose. Six of
one, half a dozen of the other.”

“You never remarried.”
“Oh, honey, you’re sweet but I’m old. Any chance of that is

long past.”

“You never know. You might find someone.”
“Is that what brought you here today? Because you found

someone?”

Her guesses were becoming uncanny. But Cade said, “Maybe.

I don’t know. It’s too soon.”

“Too late for me. Even if I wasn’t old, part of the reason I’m

here today is because I’m wishing my husband was still around to
kick my butt. They found a mass. I’m going in for surgery. Have
to be there in an hour.”

“I’m sorry.” How useless was that. “You want him to kick

your butt?”

“Yeah. He would, too. He would say, ‘Sweetheart, you are

too damned tough to let a little thing like a brain tumour get the
best of you. What are you doing getting sick like that anyway?
You tell the surgeon to be careful when he’s in there, leave all the
critical chatterbox neurons intact.’ Or he’d say, ‘You’re strong, girl.
I know you’ll be up and dancing in no time. Or you would be, if
you didn’t have two left feet.’”

“And that would be helpful?”
“Planning how to murder him would be a distraction.” She

sighed. “Oh, well. I’ll just have to be tough on my own, I guess.
Wish we’d had kids. But it never happened, and back then they
had maybe two tests to figure out the problem, and if neither one
panned out you were out of luck. Kids can be a pain and they’re

Possibilities 35

expensive buggers to raise, but at least someone will miss you
when you are gone.”

“Not likely for me either.”
She stood stiffly and came over to look down at him. “You

never know. The thing about life is that it’s always changing. If it
isn’t changing, then you’re dead. So mourn your boyfriend, miss
him and be angry with him and love him. But don’t shut out
other possibilities, okay? Not forever. Because life’s too short.” She
gave Cade a wry smile and then strode off toward the gates.

At the last moment, Cade remembered to call, “Good luck

with the surgery!”

She didn’t turn, but one hand waved in acknowledgement

before she rounded the bend in the path and was gone.

Cade leaned his forehead on the cool stone. “What do you

think, Lorin? Is she right? Is it okay if I’m thinking about a new
possibility? Because I am thinking about it.” The low hum of traffic
on the road beyond the gates was the only reply. Somewhere a dog
barked once and then was silent. Cade snorted. “Bark once for
yes and twice for no?” Lorin wouldn’t have been reincarnated as a
dog. The man was a cat, all the way.

“He’s different from you, quieter, restful. I think I could

like that.” The grey light was slowly brightening as the sun rose
behind the clouds. “I don’t know, man. I just don’t know. It’s
too hard, too soon. I can’t face…caring again. And I’m not you,
I can’t just fuck him. Not anymore.” He closed his eyes. It was
peaceful and dark in there. “You spoiled me for other guys, you
crazy fuck. Although I’m betting Joel would buy me something
for Valentine’s Day.” He could almost hear Lorin laugh, say I have
a better idea, touch his face. Even if that warmth on his cheek was
just sun breaking through, with his eyes closed he could pretend
it was Lorin.

Eventually the cold seeped in through his jeans, and the

crouching position cramped his knees. He used a hand on Lorin’s
stone to shove himself upright. The sky was overcast again. If

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there had been bright sunlight, it was gone now. He slung his bag
over his shoulder and patted his pocket for his phone as he turned
for the gate. Then in curiosity he went over to the flat plaque
where the woman had been sitting. It was a simple memorial, set
into the grass.

David Samuels, 22-08-1922 to 12-06-2001. There was no

inscription, but below the first name was a second. Evelyn Samuels.
No dates. Not birth, not death. Waiting for that woman when
she finally wasn’t tough enough, he guessed. She would no doubt
choose to be laid here. The vase of daffodils sat beside the flat
stone, leaning just slightly askew. Cade bent and straightened it,
pressing the base more firmly into the ground. With the chill in
the air, the flowers might not last long, but the colour was bright
as hope against the dark metal and winter-faded grass.

The walk back up to the cemetery gates always seemed shorter

than the walk down. Cade had done this trip with every emotion
he could name wrapped up inside him. Days of numb grief, of
denial and disbelief, of impatience with himself for being weak, of
sheer blazing anger. This was the first time he’d walked this path
and found the inside of his own head a quiet place. The wind blew
cold down his neck, but the air smelled of damp earth awakening
to springtime. At the gates he paused to pull out his phone. He
had a cab company on speed dial somewhere. But before he could
press the button a familiar figure pushed away from a parked car
and walked toward him.

“You’ll wait half an hour for a cab at this time of day,” Joel

said. “And I like company for the drive. Here.” He held out a
paper cup.

Cade took it and looked in. Dark liquid with a swirl of white

on the top. The shape of a heart made of foam was still clear in
the dissolving image.

Joel coloured. “I didn’t ask him to do that. He made them

all that way for Valentine’s Day. Maybe I should have stirred it.”

“No.” Cade took a small grateful sip, and watched the heart

Possibilities 37

shape shift, warp and disperse into an abstract swirl. “That was
nice actually.” He gave Joel a small smile. “First Valentine I’ve
had since I was six and Mrs. Davidson made us bring cards for
everyone in the class.”

“I remember that,” Joel said eagerly. “First grade. I wanted the

cards with Mutant Ninja Turtles but they were all out. I ended up
with these lame Scooby Doo ones.”

“I like Scooby Doo,” Cade confessed. He took another big

mouthful and glanced casually around. He had an odd sense of
being outside himself, of watching this new Cade take a step away
from the life he’d had. It seemed as though the world should have
changed somehow too. But it was still just a normal street with
ordinary cars on a dull Vancouver morning. With Joel grinning at
him as though he’d said something important.

“Come on,” Cade said. “If you’re going to give me a ride to

work I might actually make it on time. I’ll owe you one.” The
rich coffee taste filled his mouth and he toasted Joel with the cup.
“Or two.” And that look of pleasure and interest from Joel went
somewhere into his frozen soul and warmed it just a little. Or
three, Cade thought with dawning realization. For possibilities.

Epilogue

Cade slid an arm out across the mattress and frowned as

his fingers encountered rapidly cooling sheets instead of warm,
smooth skin. He scooted up in the bed against the pillows. Joel’s
side of the big bed was empty, but there were sounds from the
hallway. A moment later Joel eased through the doorway, a loaded
tray in his hands.

“Breakfast in bed?” Cade wasn’t complaining, as he sat up

further. But it was a work day.

“Valentine’s Day, babe. I intend to pamper you all day long.”
“Um. I like the concept but, really, you don’t need to make a

big thing out of it. Remember, I don’t really do Valentine’s Day.”

“Well I do.” Joel set the tray down across Cade’s knees and

then slid into bed beside him. “Scoot over a bit and don’t eat all
the bacon.”

Cade sometimes wondered what it was about cured fried pig

that just went right to the pleasure centres of the brain. He picked
up a crunchy strip and stuffed it in his mouth. “Mmm, good,” he
mumbled around the ambrosia of the gods.

Joel bit his own piece and inspected it quizzically. “There may

be a few burned bits. Your landlord needs to replace that damned
stove. It’s not bad enough that it’s a repulsive avocado, but the
burners are getting uneven. I hope the food’s okay.”

“Can’t ruin bacon.” Cade took a third piece and then paused

to lean over and press a greasy kiss to Joel’s gorgeous mouth.
“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They ate companionably for a while,

sharing the toast and scrambled eggs off one plate.

“Remember last year’s Valentine’s Day?” Joel said, reminiscing.
“Oh, yeah.” Cade recalled cold and darkness and a heart

Possibilities 39

created out of whipped cream. “I’m surprised you put up with
me.”

“I’m surprised I had the nerve to approach you. And that you

didn’t shoot me down.”

Cade said lightly, “With those gorgeous eyes? How could I

do that?”

“You were within an inch of it. Admit it.”
“Maybe. Thanks for sticking it out.”
Joel bent to kiss him, hot and deep. Then he got up and went

to rummage in his drawer in the dresser. He came back with a
bright red envelope. Cade took it with a little trepidation. You
never knew with Joel. He was a quiet guy, but underneath there
was a vein of wicked humour. Joel lifted the tray away and held
out a letter opener. “Go on, look at it.”

Cade slit the top, and pulled out the card. Along with it came

a cloud of pink, red and silver glitter. Sparkling stars and hearts
dotted his fingers and drifted to the bedcovers. He laughed. “Holy
crap, Joel.”

Joel smirked. “I figured I would do the holiday up in style.”
“You’ll be spending the evening vacuuming.” Cade opened

the card, a simple I’m glad I found you sentiment. He smiled
and reached to open the drawer in his nightstand where a dozen
other cards already lived. Sparkles smudged from his fingers to
the drawer handle. Lorin had bought the bedroom furniture. He
would be choking to see it decorated with pink sparkles. “Lorin
would never…” Cade bit his tongue hard and looked up at Joel
contritely. That was something he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. When
Joel moved in two months ago, Cade had promised himself he
would never mention Lorin’s name, never make comparisons.
Joel had told him he was being dumb, that it would happen and
the best Cade could promise was to keep it to a minimum. He’d
turned out to be right, but it still hurt Cade every time he slipped.
He thought maybe it bothered him even more than it bugged
Joel.

Kaje Harper

Joel leaned over and took Cade’s jaw in his fingers. “I am not

Lorin.”

“I do know that. I’m sorry. I’m really glad you’re you.”
Joel kissed his hair. “No problem. And FYI, I love Valentine’s

Day and plan to bring it in its full gorgeousness to you all day
long.”

“I could live with that. Is part of it a really sparkly jock-strap?

Because that’s one gift I could really get into.”

“I’d love to see you get into skimpy sparkles. Go for it.”
“I meant for you.”
“Ah. You can wait and wonder.”
Cade said, “Go look in my top drawer.” This year he had

sealed the card and wrapped the gift. He’d had a feeling it was
Joel’s kind of thing.

Joel pulled out the card and wrapped package. He opened the

card first. Cade watched the flush rise and ebb on Joel’s fair skin
as he read it. When he was done he looked up at Cade, his eyes
bright. “Thank you.”

“I’m slow in the romance department, but I get there

eventually. Open the gift.”

Joel was of the rip-paper-wildly school of package opening.

He pulled the silver frame out of the shards of tissue and looked
at it. “Who took this? I don’t remember it.”

Cade knew what he was looking at—a picture of the two of

them on the beach at Stanley Park. The water stretched out blue
and grey behind them, with one ship just visible in the distance.
Joel was standing on a log, so his head topped Cade’s by a few
inches and he had his cheek leaned on Cade’s hair. The wind had
whipped colour into both of their faces. The frame was a simple
narrow silver one.

“There was a girl on the beach, taking photos. I saw her smile

when you kissed me. While you were playing balance beam with
the driftwood I asked her to take photos and email them to me.

Possibilities 41

This is what she sent.”

“Nice.”
Cade nodded. “And this weekend I think we should go

apartment hunting. Or house or whatever we can find.”

“Seriously?” Joel set the picture up carefully on the dresser

and then turned, half sitting on the wooden top. His expression
was serious. “You love this place.”

“I love some things about it. I have a serious hate on for

avocado. You know the landlord is never going to replace it.”

“I could sabotage it so skillfully it looks like a breakdown.

He’d have to.”

“He’d probably go out and buy another one used. No, listen

Joel. We need a place that’s ours. Yours and mine. Because Lorin
will always be hovering over our shoulders here.”

Joel’s sigh was relief. “You feel it too. I figured it was just

something I’d have to live with.”

“God, no.” Cade swung his legs out of bed and went to wrap

his arms around Joel. “If something bugs you, tell me.”

“It was liveable.”
“I want better than liveable. I want…” He couldn’t have

said it to Lorin with a straight face, but he could to Joel. “I want
wonderful. I want amazing.”

“Well you have me.” Joel leaned back in Cade’s arms to give

him a teasing smile. “What more do you need?”

And the alarm on Joel’s watch went off. Thirty seconds later,

Cade’s did the same. They looked at each other, and Cade felt a
little shadow slide across his personal sun.

Joel moved close and kissed him. “Your watch is slow.”
“Yours is fast.”
“Come on.” Joel stepped back, took his hand and tugged

him toward the kitchen. “I want mine with mashed banana this
morning. Slips right down.”

Kaje Harper

On the kitchen table a bouquet of daffodils sat in the sunlight,

the yellow so bright it reflected in the polished wood surface like a
second sun. Joel dropped Cade’s hand, lifted one blossom out of
the vase and held it out to Cade. “I was thinking roses were too
much but, here. These remind me of you.”

Slowly, Cade took the angular green stem from Joel’s fingers.

The petals brushed his hand. “No. Daffodils are your flower.
First to appear in the spring, showing up in places they hadn’t
been planted, bringing cheer and sunshine.” The words echoed
somewhere in his head.

Joel smiled happily. “Damn. That’s almost poetic. I didn’t

know you had it in you.” He turned to the refrigerator. “So. Meds.
Do you want water or juice for yours?”

“Juice.” Cade leaned against the wall, the better to watch

Joel’s delectable ass as he bent to look in the open refrigerator.
Cade turned the bloom in his fingers. One petal was askew, and
the pollen smudged his fingertip. It was beautiful.

“What kind of juice?” Joel asked, his head stuck in the fridge.

“We have all kinds of possibilities.”

Yeah, Cade thought. Damned right we do.

§ § § §

About the Author

KAJE HARPER grew up in Montreal and spent her teen

years writing, filling binders with stories about what guys like
Starsky and Hutch really did on their days off. (In a sheltered-
fourteen-year-old PG-rated romantic sense.) Serious authorship
got sidetracked by ventures into psychology, teaching, and a
biomedical career. And the challenges of raising children. When
Kaje took up writing again it was just for fun. Hours of fun. Lots
of hours of fun. The stories began piling up, and her husband
suggested it was time to try to publish one. Kaje currently lives
in Minnesota with a creative teenager, a crazy little omnivorous
white dog, and a remarkably patient spouse.

Trademarks Acknowledgments

The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark

owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of
fiction:

Camry: Toyota Motor Sales, U.S.A., Inc.
Civic: American Honda Motor Co., Inc
CNE: Canadian National Exhibition
Linux: Linux Mark Institute
Mutant Ninja Turtles: Viacom International Inc
Porsche: Dr. Ing. h.c. F. Porsche AG; Porsche Cars North America,
Inc.
Scooby Doo: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Volvo: Volvo Cars of North America, LLC

THE TREVOR PROJECT
The Trevor Project operates the only nationwide, around-the clock
crisis and suicide prevention helpline for lesbian, gay, bisexual,
transgender and questioning youth. Every day, The Trevor Project
saves lives though its free and confidential helpline, its website and
its educational services. If you or a friend are feeling lost or alone
call The Trevor Helpline. If you or a friend are feeling lost, alone,
confused or in crisis, please call The Trevor Helpline. You’ll be able
to speak confidentially with a trained counselor 24/7.
The Trevor Helpline: 866-488-7386 On the Web: http://www.
thetrevorproject.org/

THE GAY MEN’S DOMESTIC VIOLENCE PROJECT
Founded in 1994, The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project is a
grassroots, non-profit organization founded by a gay male survivor of
domestic violence and developed through the strength, contributions
and participation of the community. The Gay Men’s Domestic
Violence Project supports victims and survivors through education,
advocacy and direct services. Understanding that the serious public
health issue of domestic violence is not gender specific, we serve men
in relationships with men, regardless of how they identify, and stand
ready to assist them in navigating through abusive relationships.
GMDVP Helpline: 800.832.1901
On the Web: http://gmdvp.org/

THE GAY & LESBIAN ALLIANCE AGAINST
DEFAMATION/GLAAD EN ESPAÑOL
The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) is
dedicated to promoting and ensuring fair, accurate and inclusive
representation of people and events in the media as a means of
eliminating homophobia and discrimination based on gender
identity and sexual orientation.
On the Web:http://www.glaad.org/ GLAAD en español:
http://www.glaad.org/espanol/bienvenido.php

If you’re a GLBT and questioning student heading off to university,
should know that there are resources on campus for you. Here’s just
a sample:
US Local GLBT college campus organizations

http://dv-8.com/resources/us/local/campus.html

GLBT Scholarship Resources

http://tinyurl.com/6fx9v6

Syracuse University

http://lgbt.syr.edu/

Texas A&M

http://glbt.tamu.edu/

Tulane University

http://www.oma.tulane.edu/LGBT/Default.htm

University of Alaska

http://www.uaf.edu/agla/

University of California, Davis

http://lgbtrc.ucdavis.edu/

University of California, San Francisco

http://lgbt.ucsf.edu/

University of Colorado

http://www.colorado.edu/glbtrc/

University of Florida

http://www.dso.ufl.edu/multicultural/lgbt/

University of Hawaiÿi, Mānoa

http://manoa.hawaii.edu/lgbt/

University of Utah

ttp://www .sa.utah.edu/lgbt/

University of Virginia

http://www .virginia.edu/deanofstudents/lgbt/

Vanderbilt University

http://www.vanderbilt.edu/lgbtqi/

Document Outline