Chapter One
“I can’t help feeling as if this is my last chance,” Evan said.
He was sitting opposite Dr. Lorne, a psychiatrist at the Havilland
Recovery Cabin in northwestern New Jersey. It was the next to
last day of his fourth pass through a twenty-eight day program for
sex and alcohol addiction. The sex addiction was questionable; the
alcohol was not.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean by your last
chance,” said Dr. Lorne. He sat at his desk in the usual position:
leaning back in his chair, with his elbow on the blotter, tapping a
ballpoint pen against his chin. He showed no emotion or any signs
of bias. There were times when Evan felt like kicking him in the
leg to see if he was still breathing.
But Evan Littlefield had been through enough sessions like
this to know Dr. Lorne wanted to draw out his feelings and emo-
tions without influencing him. This was the first time Evan had
ever been this honest in all the times he’d been to rehab. He spoke
in a smooth even tone, without much emotion. “I can’t keep doing
this,” Evan said. “It’s become a way of life and I’m tired. It has to
stick this time. I want to write again, I want to enjoy my kid while
he’s still a kid, and I want my life back once and for all. And I’m
going to get all this, and more, if it kills me this time. Because
I’d rather be dead than go back to waking up drunk in the back of
some strange guy’s pick-up truck, with my head between his legs
and an empty bottle of vodka in my hand.”
“Do you think you’re putting more pressure on yourself this
time?” Dr. Lorne asked. Nothing Evan said ever seemed to shock
him.
“I love all bars, not just gay bars,” Evan said. It was the first
time he’d ever admitted this aloud to anyone. “I love bars where
there are men drinking and looking for nothing but casual sex. I
love that hungry look in their eyes and the way they smell and feel.
I love the way they look at me. The first time I ever went into a bar
I felt as if I’d gone home again. I’d never felt so comfortable in my
life. All the stress and anxiety and problems in the world disap-
peared within those dark walls. And that was a straight bar. When I
started going to gay bars and I realized the power I had over other
men there, it felt as if I’d won the lottery and nothing was beyond
my reach. Combine that feeling of elation with vodka and you get
the most fantastic concoction the universe has ever known. But it
gets tired after a while, and soon you begin to block out reality and
nothing else matters but getting drunk and pleasing other men. It
reaches the point where you can’t stop thinking about your next
drink. And I just can’t do it anymore. I want to know what it’s like
to walk past a bar and not feel as if I’m going to shatter into a mil-
lion little pieces. I’m turning thirty years old soon and I know deep
down that if I don’t get it right this time I might not get another
chance.”
“Does turning thirty bother you?”
Evan shrugged and said, “It’s an interesting feeling. It’s like
saying good-bye to a youth I’m not sure I ever really had. I’ll be
completely honest with you. What I’d love to do is celebrate turn-
ing thirty by taking on thirty rough football players in a locker
room with thirty bottles of vodka. But I’m not going to do that any-
more. I’ve been lucky in one respect, and I know it. I didn’t always
have safe sex and I could be in a very different position right now.
How I managed to dodge the HIV bullet I don’t know. How I man-
aged to avoid herpes I don’t know. But I’m not taking any more
chances, and turning thirty is just another fucking number. I’ll be
spending this birthday with my son and friends.”
“Do you feel apprehensive about going back out into the world
after what happened?” the doctor asked.
Evan had been through enough therapy sessions to know that
Lorne was trying to see if he had post-traumatic stress syndrome
because of what he’d experienced right before he’d been admitted
to Havilland this last time. “Not at all,” he said. “I was so drunk
that night I don’t even remember what happened to me. I only
know what I was told. And you can’t be afraid of something you
don’t remember.”
At the end of that final session, Evan thanked Dr. Lorne for
everything he’d done and he went back to his room to pack his
bags. The Havilland treatment center wasn’t really a cabin. It was
a large brick mansion on a luxurious estate that had been built in
the late 1920s by an industrial tycoon who’d spent fifty years of his
life there. When he died, the family donated the five-hundred-acre
estate to a group of philanthropists who wanted to start a rehab
center for people who suffered from all forms of addiction. Evan
had become so familiar with Havilland by then he often felt as if
he’d gone on a vacation.
When he finished packing his bags, he climbed into bed and
switched off the lights. Though it was only eight o’clock and he’d
missed dinner, he wanted to savor this one last night of peace and
quiet before he had to return to the real world. This wasn’t the first
time he’d left Havilland and he always felt apprehensive on the
last night. It was the one place other than a bar where he’d always
felt safe. The only difference was that nothing at Havilland could
harm him or tempt him. If it had been possible, he might have
considered spending the rest of his life at Havilland, in his stark
white room, with crisp white sheets and simple white Venetian
blinds. But he had to return to the real world and pull what was left
of his life together, for himself and for his son. But more than that,
he wanted to feel as safe in the real world as he did in a bar or at
Havilland.
* * * *
In the morning, Evan climbed out of bed and took a hot show-
er. It took him longer than usual because he hadn’t manscaped in
weeks. He hadn’t had hair on his legs in so long he’d forgotten
what it looked like. He smiled when he saw how bushy his pubic
hair had become. Even though he’d never been obsessed with his
looks, being smooth all over made him feel cleaner in a way he
couldn’t explain. He didn’t mind body hair on other men. For the
most part, he preferred other men to have a little natural body hair.
He’d grown a goatee while he’d been there this time, and
he spent a long time in front of the bathroom mirror that morn-
ing shaving to get it just right. Though his light brown hair was a
little longer than he normally kept it, he styled it forward. Then he
added product and messed it up a little so the top would stick up in
a way that looked as if he’d been riding with the top down.
This was the first time since he’d entered Havilland that he’d
actually looked into the mirror for any length of time. He’d spent
the last twenty-eight days there wearing baseball caps and sweat-
pants. There had been days when he hadn’t bothered to shave at
all, which is how he wound up with the goatee. Before he left the
bathroom, he glanced into the mirror one last time and shrugged.
Though he’d been through more in the last ten years than most
people he knew, his skin was still clear, he didn’t have any wrin-
kles, and there were no bags beneath his eyes. He didn’t look a day
over twenty-five. Unfortunately, he felt like ninety.
When he returned to the room, he put on a pair of jeans he’d
left on the bed and made a face. He turned toward the mirror and
cinched them at the waist to keep them from falling down below
the waistband of his underwear. He figured he must have lost at
least ten pounds and hadn’t even realized it. It was a good thing
he’d brought a belt, because he’d lost so much weight he would
have had to borrow a safety pin from someone to hold his jeans
up. A month earlier, these sagging jeans had been his tight skinny
jeans, the low-rise jeans that had hugged his hips and made his butt
look bigger than it really was.
The last time he’d worn jeans similar to these he’d met three
young guys at a bar in Chelsea. He’d been so drunk that night the
most he remembered about them in detail was that they all had
dark hair and deep voices. While they kept buying him drinks
and talking dirty to him, he flirted and squeezed their muscles.
When they told him they wanted to take him someplace and fuck
his brains out, he kissed them all and agreed to go after one more
drink. When he woke up in a hospital the next day, he had no idea
someone had found him unconscious in an alley with his jeans
down around his ankles. Evidently, the three young guys had raped
him, robbed him, beaten him, and left him between two overflow-
ing trash cans and a broken statue of St. Francis that someone had
discarded. The police said he was lucky they hadn’t beaten him to
death. The doctors said he was lucky he’d only suffered broken
ribs and he wouldn’t need plastic surgery. His best friend, Michele,
said it was time to go back to Havilland.
While he was standing in front of the mirror rolling up the
sleeves of his white button-down oxford, one of the aides walked
into his room and stared at him for a second. “I wanted to see
if you’re okay. I know you’re leaving today.” She was an older
woman with salt and pepper hair and a full figure, who always
wore those unstructured nurses’ uniforms in pastel colors that had
themes with little teddy bears or smiley faces. She reminded Evan
of a favorite aunt he’d had as a child.
Evan laughed and said, “Get me a pizza so I can fit into these
jeans, Mary.” He turned sideways and pressed his palm to his
sunken stomach. “I can’t believe how much weight I lost.”
She laughed and patted her round stomach. “Don’t complain
about that to me if you know what’s good for you.” Then she
hugged him and said, “I’m going off duty now. I just wanted to say
goodbye and check in on you one more time. I’m not supposed to
get close to the patients, but you’re my favorite. You never com-
plain, you say thank you all the time, and you always make me
smile.”
This aide had been there the past two times Evan had been ad-
mitted to the twenty-eight day program. She knew what he’d been
through; she’d seen how bruised he’d been when he’d arrived.
He squeezed her tightly and said, “I’m going to miss you. You’ve
made this place tolerable. But I’m not coming back again. This is it
for me. I’m done.”
She stepped back and looked him up and down. Then she
smiled and said, “That’s good, because as much as I love you, I
don’t want to see you here again.”
After he thanked her again for everything she’d done for him
while he’d been there, she left the room and Evan walked to the
window. At the exact moment he glanced out, he saw a sleek black
Mercedes sedan pull up to the front entrance. He held his breath
for a moment as he watched an attractive young woman with long
blond hair climb out of the driver’s side. She wore a black blazer,
a short beige skirt, and fawn leather pumps. She looked as if she
were going to meet a friend for lunch instead of picking one up
from a rehab clinic. Evan crossed to the bed and picked up his
bags. He glanced around to make sure he’d packed everything,
then turned toward the door. Before he left the room, he looked
back one last time and said, “This is the last time.” Then he turned
fast and went down to meet his best friend in the main lobby.
Chapter Two
When he reached the staircase that led to the main lobby, he
glanced to the left and saw Michele sitting in wing chair beside a
large fireplace reading a magazine. The moment his foot landed on
the bottom step, Michele glanced up and their eyes met. He sent
her a smile from across the room and she stood up and smoothed
out her skirt.
She’d been one of his best friends since college. They’d met
each other their freshman year while they’d both been in the infir-
mary dealing with a couple of the less serious STDs. It hadn’t been
Evan’s first time taking penicillin and it wouldn’t be his last. But
Michele had never been there before, and she had no idea what to
do about a bad case of crabs. Evan had gotten her through it, then
through two failed marriages after that. She’d always been there
for him as well, and he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to pick
him up from Havilland that day.
Michele met him in the middle of the lobby and reached for
one of his bags. On the way out, Evan hugged a few nurses and
said goodbye to Havilland for the last time. When he stepped
outside, he felt a little shaky. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
He’d been through this before: the overwhelming moment some-
one returns to the real world after weeks of virtual isolation in a
protected environment. He knew it would pass.
It was one of those late autumn mornings with crisp cool air
and only a few clouds in the sky. The leaves had already turned
red, orange, and yellow and half had already fallen to the ground.
When he glanced up at the sky to take a deep breath, Michele
closed the trunk, handed him the car keys, and said, “Here you go.”
He flung her a stare. “I don’t know if I want to drive today.”
She opened the passenger door and said, “Well, I know I don’t
want to drive. Besides, it’ll be good for you to get back behind the
wheel again.”
Although Evan hadn’t owned a car in a long time, he always
drove when he was with Michele because she hated to drive. She
wasn’t a bad driver. But she hated the thought of driving so much
she would let anyone else with a license take over if it was at all
possible. So he took the keys and walked to the driver’s side with-
out putting up a fight.
On the way back to the city, they talked about mutual friends
and a few new stores Michele wanted to show him next week.
Then Michele went into detail about a new diet she’d just started.
From what Evan could gather, it had something to do with eating
raw organic veggies and a great deal of protein. Although Michele
was only about ten pounds overweight, she’d been fighting with
that same ten pounds for the past ten years and had never been able
to lose them. This hadn’t been the first diet she’d tried and he knew
it wouldn’t be the last. He tended to drift off into deep thought dur-
ing these conversations and he missed more than half of what she
said.
At the Lincoln Tunnel, while they were sitting in traffic round-
ing the ramp that would lead them to the toll booth plaza, Michele
glanced at Evan’s body and said, “I can’t believe how thin you are.
I hate you.”
Evan laughed. “Maybe you should check into Havilland for
twenty-eight days,” he said. “You’d be amazed at how rehab can
kill your appetite.” He’d learned how to make jokes about Havil-
land. It was easier—and, he thought, healthier—than not talking
about it at all.
But Michele tended to take his relapses more seriously, and she
looked as if she were sorry she’d said that. She changed the subject
and asked, “What did you think about most while you were there
all that time?”
“Kenny,” Evan said. He didn’t have to think hard about that
question. He’d thought about a lot of things, from chocolate to
men. But the one person he’d thought about most had been his son.
Michele reached over and held his hand. She squeezed it and
said, “He’s fine, and he’s excited about seeing you again.”
When they reached Evan’s neighborhood in the East Village, a
group of rough-looking kids ran into the street waving sticks and
Michele made a face. “I seriously wish you’d think about moving
out of here once and for all. I heard of a great place in my neigh-
borhood that’s going to be vacant in a few months. I’m sure Jeffery
would buy it for you.”
Evan slowed down to wait for a parking space not far from his
building. He’d seen a man get into a car and parking wasn’t easy to
find at that time of day. While the rough-looking kids examined the
long black Mercedes, Evan shrugged and said, “It’s home. And the
rent is good. And you know I don’t like change. I feel comfortable
here.”
Although a good deal of Alphabet City had changed for the bet-
ter over the years, Evan lived on East 4th between Avenues C and
D, and Michele seemed to think she took her life in her hands each
time she braved the trip downtown. Brooklyn sent her into a panic
that caused her voice to tremble and her hands to shake. She lived
on the Upper East Side, in white Manhattan, where the women all
had their hair colored in seven shades of blond and carried purses
that cost more than a month’s rent for most people. Evan could
have moved to a more upscale neighborhood. His estranged hus-
band, Jeffery Charles, was worth billions and had even offered to
buy Evan something. But Jeffery had always been one of Evan’s
problems and he wanted to keep things simple in that respect.
Evan lived in what was called a “walk-up,” which meant there
wasn’t an elevator. Between the fourth and fifth floor, Michele
clutched the stair rail and said, “We might have to stop for a break.
You’re killing me with these fucking stairs.”
“It’s not that bad,” Evan said. He took her hand and pulled
her toward the next flight of steps. “I only live on the sixth floor.
It’s good exercise.” He didn’t mention the fact that Michele had a
personal trainer and that she went to a gym four times a week to do
cardio. She should have been in better shape after spending all that
time and money. Evan went to a gym to work out with weights, but
he got all the cardio he needed just by walking up and down those
steps, or jogging around his neighborhood, and he got it for free.
By the time they reached the sixth floor, Michele pulled a hand-
kerchief out of her purse and dabbed her neck. They rounded a
corner and Evan glanced at the end of the hall and saw the door to
his apartment wide open. He pointed and said, “I hope this means
Cadin is in there waiting for us, because if he’s not we might be in
trouble.”
Cadin Wright was another one of Evan’s closest friends. He’d
met Cadin at a bar seven years earlier and he’d tricked with him.
At the time, Evan had been on one of his drunken binges. This was
right before his first trip to Havilland. Although Cadin and Evan
had never been lovers in a relationship, they’d had sex more than
once and they referred to each other as fuck buddies in a campy,
sarcastic way.
When they entered Evan’s apartment and found Cadin hapless-
ly arranging a bouquet of flowers on the small dining table outside
the kitchen, they both took a deep breath and exhaled at the same
time. Michele crossed to where Cadin was standing and gave him a
push. She went right to work arranging the flowers and said, “How
can you be so damn helpless? I have never met such a donkey of a
gay man in my life. You remind me of my first husband. That sono-
fabitch couldn’t even put the juice back in the refrigerator.”
Cadin turned toward Evan and smiled. “I can’t help it if I’m not
good with flowers, or cooking, or picking out the right clothes. I’m
a man. I have other talents that you’ll never know about.” Then he
crossed the room and threw his arms around Evan.
It felt food to be held by a strong handsome man again. Cadin
did have other talents, and those talents surpassed cooking, shop-
ping, and flower arrangement. He stood about six feet tall in bare
feet, had thick black hair he parted on the side, and a body that
made people stop and stare when he jogged down the street with
his shirt off. He lived in Brooklyn and worked in a family con-
struction business that focused on remodeling kitchens for high-
end clients in Manhattan. And he had the thick rough calluses on
his palms to prove it.
Evan sank into his strong chest and closed his eyes for a mo-
ment. “It’s so good to see you. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed
my friends so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
Cadin smacked Evan on the ass in a playful way and said, “Of
course I’m here. I’m your hero and you know there’s nothing I
wouldn’t do for you.”
Evan hugged him tighter and said, “And there’s nothing I
wouldn’t do for you either.”
“Then marry me,” Cadin said. This had become a running joke
between them. Although they were good in bed together, and they
loved each other, they weren’t in love with each other. But that
didn’t stop Cadin from asking Evan to marry him at least once or
twice a week.
Evan released Cadin and stepped back. He looked him up and
down and said, “It’s too soon. We have an agreement, remember?”
They’d both agreed that if they reached the age of fifty and neither
of them were in a serious relationship they would get married and
live together. “Besides, I’m already married and I love my hus-
band.”
Cadin frowned. “Don’t remind me.” Cadin had never hidden
his dislike for Evan’s husband, Jeffery.
“He’s not that bad. We have a wonderful child together.” Evan
had to work hard to look at the brighter side of his marriage to Jef-
fery. Although Jeffery had always been generous with money and
material things, he’d never been faithful or dependable. It stung a
little that Jeffery hadn’t bothered to show up at the apartment to
greet him on his first day back. But this was something Evan had
grown accustomed to over the years and he wasn’t surprised.
“We can have a child together,” Cadin said. “At least we can
have fun trying to make babies.” He moved closer and kissed him
on the lips this time.
“You two are making me sick to my stomach,” Michele said.
She’d finished arranging the flowers and she was now sitting on a
club chair next to the sofa, checking her makeup.
Before Cadin could reply, there was a knock on the door and
Evan turned to see who was there.
Cadin said, “I figured you’d need food in the house.” He
glanced at Evan’s thin body and frowned. “And from the way it
looks I was right. You need a good meal. I’ll fatten you up.” He
tended to like his men with a little meat on their bones. Michele
and Evan often called him a chubby chaser. He never seemed to
mind, though. He was the first to admit he liked men who were
at least twenty-five pounds overweight, especially from the waist
down. In fact, he often went out searching for what he referred to
as, “guys with childbearing hips.”
The young man carrying the box of groceries stepped into the
apartment and set the box down on the dining table. He glanced
at Evan as if he were the only one in the room and smiled. “Hey,
baby,” he said. “I was told to charge this to Jeffery Charles’s ac-
count.”
Jeffery and Evan were still legally married in the state of New
York and Jeffery still paid for most of Evan’s expenses. Even if
they hadn’t been legally married in the state of New York, Jeffery
would have insisted on paying for his expenses. It was one small
part of their extremely complicated relationship that seemed to
work. “That’s fine,” Evan said, and he thanked the guy.
The guy walked up to Evan, looked him up and down, and
smiled again. “Anything for you.”
Evan felt a little shaky. The guy couldn’t have been older than
twenty. He had short reddish brown hair, a strong stocky body, and
a thick neck. He reminded Evan of a guy in college he’d known.
The guy in college had been on the football team and they’d had
a secret relationship for most of Evan’s sophomore year. That guy
had been in the closet and engaged to a girl. Even had always been
attracted to men like this, which was one of the reasons why he
never had to wonder why he’d wound up at a place like Havilland
so many times. But even worse, men like this always seemed to be
attracted to Evan. He didn’t have to initiate anything. They always
approached him first in very aggressive ways. It was as if they
could smell his weakness and they would zoom in on him.
Cadin stepped in between Evan and the grocery guy and he
handed the guy a five-dollar tip. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll take it from
here. You can leave now.” He squared his shoulders and looked
down at him to show him he was in charge.
Michele continued to work on her face. She rolled her eyes
and said, “Here we go again, and he’s not even out on the streets
for one full day.” She tended to get a little jealous when men came
on to Evan this way. Not because she wanted anything sexual with
Evan. She wanted men like the delivery guy to come on to her that
way and they never did.
The young guy glanced over Cadin’s shoulder and smiled at
Evan. He didn’t seem intimidated by Cadin at all. In fact, he ig-
nored him completely. “You need anything else, baby, just call. I’ll
be here fast.”
Evan smiled and said, “Thank you.” Then he crossed to the
sofa and sat down to catch his breath. He felt overwhelmed and he
wasn’t sure why. It was nice of Cadin to come to his rescue that
way, but he could have handled it himself.
Michele must have noticed his distress, because she stopped
working on her face and went over to sit next to him. She pulled a
bottle of Ativan out of her purse and said, “Here, take one of these.
It’ll calm you down.”
“No,” Evan said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. I just got a
little overwhelmed, is all.”
Cadin closed the door and he went over to the sofa and stared
down at Evan. “Sorry about that idiot, man. I don’t know what gets
into some guys that make them act like assholes sometimes.”
Michele reached for his hand and said, “You can do it, Evan.
You can control those urges. And I didn’t think that guy was all
that cute.”
Evan knew what his friends were doing and he wanted to set
them straight. He laughed and said, “It’s not like that, not at all. I
went to Havilland mainly because of alcohol and because of what
drinking was doing to me. The sex addiction is something differ-
ent. It’s not like I see every man that walks down the street and I
want to sleep with him, at least it’s not like that with me. The only
time I’m out of control with men is when I’m drunk. And I don’t
intend on getting drunk ever again.”
Cadin and Michele exchanged glances.
He laughed aloud. It was evident they didn’t understand. “I
could have handled that guy alone without a problem. I probably
wouldn’t have slept with him. I have to be drinking to be out of
control that way with men. As long as I’m not drinking I’m okay.
When I’m not drunk and I sleep with someone it’s a conscious
choice I’m making like everyone else. It’s the alcohol that makes
it dangerous because I just do it and don’t think first. It’s not really
a choice.” He knew it was a complicated thing to explain to them
and he knew he wasn’t doing it very well. The truth of the matter
was that Evan might have been interested in the delivery guy if
he’d been alone in the apartment. In that case, he would have made
the choice one way or the other. He didn’t consider that addiction.
Cadin frowned and said, “Well, I still think the asshole was too
aggressive, and I’m glad I set him straight.”
Evan knew his friends cared about him and he didn’t want to
upset them. “Thanks for watching out for me.” He held Michele’s
hand tighter and said, “I don’t know what I’d do without my
friends. You are always there for me.”
Michele glanced at her watch and stood up. “Well, you’re go-
ing to find out soon because I have to leave for an appointment.
I’m having Botox this afternoon and I want to get uptown early in
case there’s traffic.”
Cadin blinked. “More Botox?”
Evan sent his friend a smile. She’d been getting Botox injec-
tions for the past year and there were days her face took on such a
stark, expressionless look he couldn’t figure out what kind of mood
she was in.
Michele grabbed her purse and said, “We’re not getting any
younger. Don’t judge me.”
“Can you give me a ride uptown?” Cadin asked. “We’re work-
ing on a job on East 72nd Street and I left the truck up there. I
won’t have to take the subway back up there if you take me.”
Michele kissed Evan on the cheek and said, “Sure I can. You
can drive.”
Then Evan reached for her arm and asked, “Did anyone let Jef-
fery know I was coming home today?” He knew Jeffery had ways
of finding out information he wanted without anyone’s help. But
Evan was curious about whether or not Jeffery had been in touch
with anyone while he’d been at Havilland.
“I left a message with Jeffery’s assistant,” Michele said. “I
couldn’t get through to him.”
“The Werewolf?” Evan asked. Jeffery’s assistant was an ambi-
tious young man with tons of facial hair, and thick wiry hair on his
forearms. Evan always joked that he probably had hair on his back,
and all over his ass, too. This personal assistant always seemed to
be flirting with Jeffery, and he couldn’t wait to get involved in his
personal business. Evan would have preferred him not knowing
he’d been discharged from Havilland that day.
Michele shrugged. “What else could I do? The Werewolf man-
ages Jeffery’s entire life these days.”
Evan ignored that remark and walked them to the door. He
knew Jeffery better than anyone and he knew Jeffery would never
be attracted to the pushy, aggressive werewolf. Jeffery only used
him as a minion.
He hugged them both and thanked them for being there for
him again. Cadin offered to stop by and check in on him on his
way back to Brooklyn later that afternoon but Evan told him he
would be fine. He loved them both dearly, but he wanted them to
leave. It was his first day back and he needed time to be alone with
his thoughts and to sort out his feelings. Although he loved his
apartment, he still had to face a few demons he knew would never
disappear. Most of them were in his bedroom, in a cabinet where
he used to stash all his booze, next to a window with a view of a
solid brick wall.
Chapter Three
When he was finally alone, Evan locked the door, leaned back
against it, and took a deep breath. He’d worked hard to show his
friends his spirits were good and he was happy to be home. Smil-
ing for long periods of time tended to hurt his face, especially
when he didn’t feel like smiling. It had been work, not fun. He
needed to be alone for a while now and think about what he was
going to do next. Being in an isolated environment like Havilland
where no one had expected him to smile or pretend to be happy
tended to distort reality. There had been times when he’d thought
about never leaving.
As he crossed to the dining table where Michele had left his
bags, he glanced around the living room and smiled. It was evident
Cadin had tried to spruce things up in his own haphazard, clumsy
way. He’d tossed pillows on the cream sofa upside down, he’d
opened the blinds in the front window crooked so that the one on
the left was higher than the one on the right, and he’d rearranged a
few side chairs that only made the room look smaller.
Evan’s collection of furniture wasn’t spectacular, but every-
thing in his apartment reminded him of an event that had happened
in his life over the past ten years. The modern cream-colored sofa
had been a gift from Jeffery the first month they’d met. Evan had
just graduated from college and he’d signed a lease for his first
real-life adult apartment. Though Jeffery hadn’t been a billionaire
at the time, he’d been doing well on Wall Street with tech stocks
and he’d purchased the sofa as a gift for Evan. Evan could even re-
member it had arrived on a Friday afternoon. They’d made love on
that sofa that same Friday night. About a week later, Jeffery moved
in with him and remained there until they both moved out a few
years later when Jeffery could afford to buy a townhouse uptown.
Evan smiled and lifted his bags from the table. He crossed
through the dining area to a small hallway that led to two bed-
rooms. This was another reason he didn’t want to move. It had
become impossible to find an apartment this large, with two full
bedrooms, anywhere in Manhattan without paying a small fortune
in rent. He had a separate bedroom for Kenny when he spent the
weekend there. This building was one of the last rent controlled
buildings in his neighborhood. He knew he could never get a
deal like this again, and that was the reason he’d sub-leased the
apartment and held on to it when he’d moved into the townhouse
uptown. This apartment gave him independence, a sense of secu-
rity, and he could afford it without Jeffery if he had to. In hindsight
he often wondered if he’d ever believed he and Jeffery would live
happily ever after.
But his relationship with Jeffery was too complicated to deal
with that day. He didn’t want to think about it and get himself
stressed out on his first day home. He opened a small Gucci bag
and emptied the contents on the bed. The Gucci bags had been a
gift from Jeffery, too. He’d given them to Evan two Christmases
ago before they’d left for Switzerland. Evan would have been
happy with anything Jeffery had given him. It didn’t have to be
designer bags. But Jeffery had a way of tossing money around in
a vulgar way without giving it a second thought. And when he did
this Evan knew there was no use arguing with him.
Evan smiled at the personal items on his bed: a blow dryer,
underwear, hair product, and a few other toiletries. The other small
bag contained a few pairs of jeans, sweatpants, and T-shirts. He
could have packed it all in a shopping bag and still had room left.
The room felt stuffy, as if no one had lived there for years. As
he moved to the other side of the bed to open the window he heard
a knock on the door and he stopped short. He wasn’t expecting
anyone. As far as he knew no one knew he was home yet other
than his closest friends. He heard a louder knock, almost a bang.
Then he heard Jeffery’s deep voice say, “Are you in there?” and his
chest caved in.
He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t home, so he took a quick breath
and went back into the living room. By that time Jeffery had begun
to bang on the door and shout his name aloud. Jeffery wasn’t the
kind of man who liked to be kept waiting. But the moment Evan
unlocked the door his cell phone rang. He’d left it on the dining
table when he’d pulled it out of his jacket pocket.
He opened the door, stared at his husband for a moment, and
said, “Come in.” Then he walked over to the table and answered
his phone without bothering to look at the caller ID first.
“Hey, Dad. Are you home now?”
Evan sent Jeffery a glance. Jeffery was standing in the middle
of the living room watching him. He nodded at Jeffery and said,
“Hey, Kenny. Yes, I’m home. Hell, it’s so good to hear your voice.
I was just about to call and leave you a message. I figured you were
in class now.”
When Jeffery heard that Evan was talking to their son, he
smiled and sat down on the sofa. Evan figured he’d come right
from his office on Wall Street. He wore a gray suit, a starched
white shirt, and a navy blue tie. He was one of those men who
looked just as good in a suit as he did jeans and a T-shirt.
“I’m between classes right now,” Kenny said. “I wanted to see
if you’re okay.” He went to a private school uptown near Jeffery’s
townhouse. He’d just entered his freshman year and he seemed to
be well adjusted in spite of the fact that his parents weren’t living
together.
“I’m fine,” Evan said. “I’m really doing okay and I don’t want
you to worry.” Sometimes it was more like Evan was the child and
Kenny was the parent. They related to each other more like good
friends than father and son. Jeffery and Evan had adopted Kenny
when he was seven years old, right after they’d committed to each
other. This was before gay marriage in New York had been legal,
and right before having children had become the ultimate chic
thing to do for gay men. Jeffery had insisted on adoption. At the
time, he’d said he’d always wanted to be a father and he wanted to
do it while he was still young. Although Evan had been apprehen-
sive about being a parent back them, he now realized it was the one
single decision he’d made in his life so far that had been worth-
while. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without
Kenny.
“Good, because I want you to listen to me read tonight,” Kenny
said.
“Read?” Evan asked. He glanced at the sofa and Jeffery
shrugged.
“I wrote a short story for my English class and tonight is
parent-teacher night at school. Each department is doing something
different. The English department has kids doing readings, and I’m
doing one.”
Evan felt a surge of panic deep in his stomach. “Oh, I’m not
sure, Kenny. I just got home. I look like a mess and I can’t promise
anything.” He didn’t want to face people this soon, especially other
parents and teachers in a school environment where everything
always seemed so proper and upstanding.
“Dad, you have to come, seriously. I need you there. You’re a
writer and I’ve been telling everyone about you. I’m also scared to
death. I’ve never done a reading before.”
“Oh, God,” Evan said. He hated being put on the spot this way.
But there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his child. He’d made a
silent pledge to himself the first night Kenny had spent with them
ten years earlier. He’s tucked him into bed and waited for him to
fall asleep. He sat there watching him sleep for more than an hour.
Before he got up and went to his own bedroom that night, he bent
down, kissed his son on the cheek, and said, “I will always put you
first.”
“Please come,” Kenny said. “I think dad will be here, too. I
told him about it this morning before I left for school.” Kenny
lived full time with Jeffery. It often seemed as if his main mission
in life was to get his two dads back together again.
Evan didn’t mention that Jeffery was in his apartment. “Okay,
I’ll try to be there. I really will. But I can’t promise you.”
“Thanks, dad,” Kenny said. “I have to go now. I’ll see you
tonight at seven. It’s room 304.”
Evan said, “I’ll try. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
After he hung up, Evan set the phone on the table and smiled.
It felt so good to hear his son’s voice he stopped worrying about
being nervous with Jeffery. He crossed to the other end of the sofa
and sat down. Before he had a chance to say anything, Jeffery said,
“He’s missed you. You have to go tonight. I’ll send a car for you
around six thirty.”
Although Evan didn’t want to go out in public that soon, he
knew he would go. He sent Jeffery a look and asked, “Aren’t you
going?” He wasn’t sure if Jeffery was offering to pick him up
or just send a car. With Jeffery he could never be certain. He’d
learned to read between the lines.
“I can’t,” Jeffery said. “I have an important dinner engagement
tonight. I was going to call him later and tell him I can’t go, and
now I don’t feel so bad knowing you’ll be there for him.”
“I can take a cab,” Evan said.
“I’m sure you can do anything.”
Evan would have stopped the world for his son. He’d already
missed deadlines and publishing events to put his son’s needs first.
And he’d never regretted it. But not Jeffery. He’d always put busi-
ness first and Evan had gotten used to this. There was no use argu-
ing with him anymore. He’d done that more than once when they’d
been living together. He also knew Kenny would not be surprised.
His other dad had missed school plays, singing recitals, soccer
matches, and more than Evan could recall. Kenny had become as
accustomed to Jeffery’s work ethic as Evan had.
But just to see Jeffery’s reaction, Evan said, “Maybe you could
cancel this dinner engagement just this once, for Kenny’s sake. I’m
sure he’d like to see us both there tonight as a family. It sounds like
it’s a big event for him.” As a writer, Evan knew what it was like to
give readings of his own work. He’d always dreaded doing it. He’d
never done it sober. He couldn’t have been prouder of his son’s
courage or his ambition to become a writer.
“Can’t do that,” Jeffery said. “It’s an important guy from
Silicon Valley who flew in just to talk to me. This is big. There’s a
lot of money involved. This guy owns the most important online
social media outlet since the invention of TV and he’s going public
soon and I’m his biggest investor.”
Evan didn’t truly grasp what Jeffery did on Wall Street because
he’d always worked in the more creative end of publishing. He
knew it had a lot to do with the stock market and investments—
venture capitalism. Jeffery had made his fortune in the right tech-
nology stocks at a time when a lot of other investors had been
laughing at them. And he’d continued to build his billion-dollar
fortune by following all the latest trends in social media. At this
particular time social media seemed to be booming and Evan knew
Jeffery would never miss an opportunity to get involved in some-
thing this important.
Evan smiled and said, “I didn’t think you would. I understand,
and I’m sure Kenny will, too.” Now he would have to go to the
reading. He would not let his son down the same way Jeffery al-
ways let him down.
Jeffery moved closer to him and rested his palm on Evan’s
thigh. He ran it up and down and said, “You look fantastic. I was
expecting to find you all depressed and pale like the other times
you’ve returned from Havilland. But this time you look different.
It’s hard to explain.”
Evan shrugged. He felt different this time, but he didn’t want to
get into anything too deep with Jeffery. “I’ve lost too much weight.
My clothes are falling off. But I feel good.” When he said this, he
realized how true it was. He really did feel good and he wasn’t sure
why.
“You look like you did the first day I met you,” Jeffery said. He
move even closer and put his arm around him. He kissed his neck
and said, “You smell good, too.”
Evan laughed. “What are you doing?” He tried to pull out from
under Jeffery’s arm but Jeffery held him even tighter.
“I’m welcoming my husband home the proper way,” Jeffery
said. His hand moved higher and he squeezed the inside of Evan’s
thigh.
Evan reached for his shoulders and said, “We shouldn’t be do-
ing this.”
Jeffery’s hand went higher. “We’re married. We love each
other.”
Although they were separated in the sense that they didn’t live
together, they weren’t formally separated and they had been having
sex regularly since Evan had moved back to his old apartment. The
reason they didn’t live together wasn’t because of Evan’s drinking
problem. It was because Jeffery couldn’t be monogamous, no mat-
ter how hard he tried. He hadn’t lied to Evan. He’d been open and
honest from the beginning of their marriage and Evan had known
what he was getting into. They’d always had what some couples
call an open relationship and were free to have sex with other men
as long as it was safe sex and there was nothing emotional about
it. At first, Evan thought it was the perfect relationship for two gay
men. But then they adopted Kenny and Evan found he wanted a
more traditional lifestyle. He’d tried to make the open marriage
work; he’d tried to live with knowing his husband was sleeping
with other men. But it finally reached a point where he couldn’t
take it anymore and he moved back to his old apartment to sort
things out on his own.
As Jeffery continued to kiss his neck, he pushed Jeffery’s
shoulders and said, “We’re not like other married people and you
know it. We don’t live together, but we’re not actually separated or
even talking about divorce. Most people would think that doesn’t
make sense.”
“Fuck what most people think,” Jeffery said. “Most people
are dumb, most people are not informed, most people don’t know
shit, most people are fat and ugly, and most people can kiss my hot
American ass.”
“You’re an arrogant prick,” Evan said, enjoying the way Jef-
fery’s hands were moving between his legs.
“And you love arrogant pricks, especially big ones,” Jeffery
said, as he removed his suit jacket and threw it over the back of the
sofa. He buried his face in Evan’s neck and said, “I’ve missed you
so much. You know you’ve missed me, too.”
This had always been the problem. Their open relationship kept
Evan awake at night; sometimes he thought it was part of what
caused him to drink. But he had missed Jeffery; he did still love
him even if he couldn’t live in the same house with him. No other
man in the world could to do him what Jeffery did. And Evan had
been with more than enough men to know this.
So Evan stopped fighting him and he submitted to his aggres-
sive advances the same way he’d always done in the past. As much
as this would frustrate him later in some ways, he also knew it
would comfort him and give him the courage he needed to go to
Kenny’s reading later that night. By making love to Jeffery, Evan
could pretend for a short time that he was a normal married person
having sex with his husband, the man he loved. He could pretend
that everything was okay and that he didn’t have any serious prob-
lems or issues to deal with. He’d been doing this for a long time
and he knew how to rationalize his motives.
While Jeffery stood up and removed all of his clothes, Evan
remained on the sofa, on his back, and removed his. When Jeffery
climbed on top of him and their naked bodies touched, Evan closed
his eyes and sighed aloud. His husband smelled like a man who
had been working all day. His natural scent mingled with remnants
of his the hair product he’d used on his short dark hair earlier that
morning. Though his powdery deodorant had softened since he’d
showered, traces of it lingered each time Evan took a breath. And
the damp scent that rose from between his legs filled Evan with
such a sense of excitement he lifted his legs up and rested one foot
on the back of the sofa and the other on the cocktail table.
They made out for a while on the sofa in the same familiar
way they’d always begun their lovemaking. Jeffery had a way of
kissing Evan that made him close his eyes, lift up his legs, and
surrender completely. It wasn’t rough, and yet it was forceful in an
unplanned way. Sometimes when they kissed for a long time it felt
as if they were one person breathing through the same set of lungs.
While they kissed, Evan’s fingers explored his husband’s
strong, solid upper body. Jeffery was only a year older than Evan
and he still worked out on a regular basis at five o’clock every
single morning. Jeffery had never been a sleeper. If he managed to
get four hours a night he considered that a novelty. All this working
out had been as much of a stress release as it had been a successful
attempt to keep a good body. It had paid off, too. Every muscle on
his back, his arms, and his chest made Evan’s erection grow harder.
After they kissed, Jeffery moved up on the sofa and he strad-
dled Evan’s head that same way he’d been doing since the first
night they’d made love. Evan took him gently in his palm and
opened his mouth. The instant Jeffery’s erection entered, Evan
closed his eyes and started sucking slowly. Though he knew Jef-
fery preferred him to be rougher, he also knew his husband didn’t
complain when he used a gentle touch. This was fine with Evan.
He didn’t like to get rough. These lines had been drawn early in
their marriage and he saw no need to alter them. What worked well
and didn’t need to be fixed should be left alone. In fact, if every
other aspect of their relationship worked as well as their lovemak-
ing, his life would have been perfect.
Evan sucked until he tasted his husband’s pre-come. He
reached up with his left hand and gently squeezed Jeffery’s scro-
tum. He pulled Jeffery closer and started to suck harder, wondering
if Jeffery wanted to climax this way. In this respect he could never
be certain. It all depended on Jeffery’s various moods.
He brought Jeffery to the edge of climax, and then Jeffery
reached down and held Evan’s face in his hands. He smiled and
shook his head back and forth, and then he slowly pulled his dick
out of Evan’s mouth, ran the tip across Evan’s lips, and reached
over to the coffee table where he knew Evan kept the condoms.
Though Evan would have preferred to take his husband raw, with-
out a condom, this wasn’t an option in their marriage. This was
a part of their deal that drove Evan to move out: he longed to be
with his husband without condoms, but knew that one simple thing
wouldn’t happen as long as they remained in an open marriage.
Because they had always had an open relationship they’d both
always used condoms. They could have taken a chance and trusted
each other because they’d both sworn they would always use con-
doms when they were with other people. But they both agreed to
play it safe just in case.
It didn’t take long for Jeffery to enter. Evan had one leg spread
over the back of the sofa and the other dangling over the side.
Jeffery grabbed the ankle dangling over the other side and lifted
Evan’s leg up higher. With his other hand, he guided his dick into
Evan’s body and watched Evan’s expression the entire time he did
this.
Without saying a word, Evan looked into Jeffery’s eyes and
nodded to let him know he was okay, to let him know he could
continue. He didn’t stop nodding until every inch of Jeffery was in-
side his body and Jeffery’s balls were pressed to the bottom of his
ass. When he finally did stop nodding, he closed his eyes and threw
his arms back over the arm of the sofa. The leg over the back of the
sofa went higher and Jeffery pushed his other leg so far back his
knee met his shoulder. Evan had always been agile this way and
men had always been able to bend him and spread his legs apart in
ways that made them more comfortable.
When Jeffery began to move his hips, Evan reached down with
one hand and he started to stroke his own dick. He knew what to
expect with his husband most of the time; he knew this time Jef-
fery would begin slowly and the fucking would increase until he
heard slaps. Jeffery had always been one of those men who pre-
dominantly fucked with his pelvis, not this entire body. Though
he had his more aggressive moments in bed, Jeffery’s moves were
not always as dramatic as they were orchestrated and even. There
had been times when they’d made love in the past when Evan had
glanced into a nearby mirror and watched his husband’s hips mov-
ing. The rest of his body remained relatively still, but those slim
sturdy hips moved so fast every nerve ending in Evan’s body filled
with what he’d always considered unwarranted inspiration. And
that was because it was inspiring to watch from a distance, and
just as inspiring to experience deep inside his body. The other men
he’d been with tended to be awkward, without a sense of balance
and rhythm. They often poked and prodded instead of entering and
exiting with grace and dignity.
Jeffery even came with a sense of decorum other men didn’t
seem to have. At the exact moment he climaxed that afternoon on
the sofa, he looked into Evan’s eyes for a moment, and then his
head went all the way back in such a way that Evan watched the
muscles in his neck tighten. While he watched his husband fin-
ish, he jerked his own erection until he came with a discharge that
landed on the side of his face.
Jeffery glanced down at him and smiled. He leaned forward,
slowly licked the mess Evan had made on his cheek, and kissed
Evan one more time. It was a deep kiss and Evan grabbed the back
of his husband’s head. He always felt the same way in the end. He
didn’t want to let go of Jeffery; he didn’t want to stop kissing and
he didn’t want Jeffery to leave his body.
But it ended a moment or two later, and Jeffery stood up and
removed the condom. They showered together the same way
they’d been showering since the first time they’d made love. Then
Evan put on a short black robe and Jeffery went back to the living
room to gather his clothes. Evan stood near the dining table and
watched him dress. He was as much in love with Jeffery as ever.
A problem in their relationship was that there were times he didn’t
like Jeffery. Another problem was he always felt as if he’d failed.
He’d always wanted to be the one man who could tame Jeffery and
turn him into the perfect monogamous husband. He’d had to learn
the hard way that nothing in life is perfect and it takes time and ef-
fort to be happy.
When Jeffery was dressed, he walked over to the dining table
and handed Evan the navy tie. “Would you do it? No one can tie a
tie they way you can.”
Evan smiled and wrapped the tie around Jeffery’s neck. He
moved slowly and concentrated on making a tight Windsor knot
because he knew Jeffery couldn’t make a Windsor knot on his own.
When he finished, he adjusted the knot tightly to Jeffery’s col-
lar and kissed him on the lips. Jeffery’s hand went up the back of
his robe and he said, “I’m glad you’re home. I have to go now, but
I’ll call you later this week.”
Evan walked him to the door, with Jeffery’s hand still up the
back of his robe. “Thanks for coming over today. I’m glad your
assistant told you I was coming home today.” He didn’t refer to the
assistant as the Werewolf in front of Jeffery.
Jeffery tilted his head sideways and said, “My assistant didn’t
tell me anything. No one had to tell me you were coming home
today. I’ve been checking in with Havilland since you were admit-
ted.”
“You were?” This was news to Evan. This wasn’t typical of
Jeffery. He tended to delegate every aspect of his busy life, even
the most personal things, to his various minions.
“I was seriously worried this time,” Jeffery said. “Especially
when you had to be hospitalized.” Jeffery didn’t mention he knew
Evan had been raped and beaten. Jeffery also tended to ignore
things that bothered him.
“I’m okay now,” Evan said. “I’ve learned my lesson. It’s not
going to happen again.” He knew he should have felt more trau-
matized about being raped. He knew how serious an issue rape
was, and how it was often ignored with men. But he just couldn’t
remember the act itself or anything else about that night because
he’d been unconscious through all of it.
Jeffery hugged him and said, “I have to go. I’ll call you. Maybe
you should think about moving back home for a while. Kenny
would love it, and you can have your own bedroom.”
Evan stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “If I ever do
move back home I don’t want my own bedroom, Jeffery. You know
what I want. We’ve talked about this before and I’m not going
to change my mind.” They’d been over this a million times since
Evan had moved out. Evan wanted them to be a real couple with a
traditional marriage. He didn’t want an open relationship, he didn’t
want to do three-ways, and he didn’t want a husband who screwed
every good-looking young man he came in contact with. And
though the open marriage gave Evan his own advantages, he was
willing to give all that up forever just to be a family again. It was
the one issue where he wouldn’t back down.
As always, Jeffery changed the subject. “I’ll call,” he said.
Then he kissed him goodbye, turned, and headed down the hall un-
til he reached the staircase. As he grabbed the banister, he glanced
back and sent him a smile.
Evan stood in the doorway and listened until he couldn’t hear
Jeffery’s feet tapping on the stairs anymore. He wondered if he still
had time for a short nap before he had to get ready for Kenny’s
reading. This would be the first time he would be out in public
without having a drink and he started to feel a little shaky again. It
would have been nice if Jeffery had been able to join him just this
one time.
Chapter Four
It always made Evan smile when he tried to explain to people
what he did for a living. He wrote historical romance novels, with
covers that had women in long flowing gowns and large English
manor homes in the background. He’d been doing this since he’d
graduated from college, thrilled and grateful to find a niche in an
industry known for its constant rejection.
When most people heard he was a published author the first
question was always the same: “What’s the name of your book?”
This was usually followed by, “What’s your book about?” These
questions made Evan smile even more. Most people didn’t read
historical romance. They read mainstream fiction, the latest best-
selling nonfiction, or whatever else they’d heard or read about in
the mainstream media that was trending. Most did not understand
there were career writers who focused in genre fiction and catered
to a smaller, dedicated group of readers who tended to read up to
ten or more novels a week. Evan had learned early in his career it
was easier to just say he worked in publishing and leave it at that.
This wasn’t totally off base. He did do freelance jobs whenever
his agent found something interesting he thought Evan might like.
The last freelance piece Evan had done was for a book of essays
that examined a popular textbook on romance novels that would
be used to teach on a university level. Although these publications
were usually more academic than creative, Evan enjoyed the diver-
sion once in a while. Not being creative had its advantages.
He didn’t feel creative that evening. He still felt shaky, slightly
paranoid, and self-conscious about all the weight he’d lost at
Havilland. All of his thirty-inch-waist slacks hung on his hips and
he needed a belt to keep them from falling down. Even his jackets
and sport coats felt loose in the shoulders. But he didn’t want to
disappoint his son, so he put on a pair of beige slacks, a white shirt,
and a black sport jacket. On his way to the avenue to get a cab,
he phoned Cadin and told him not to stop by on his way back to
Brooklyn. Cadin offered to drive him uptown to Kenny’s school,
but he was stuck in traffic on Seventh Avenue South and Evan was
already running late as it was.
When the cab pulled up to the school, Evan climbed out and
slipped through side door where a group of kids were hanging out
next to a brick wall. He kept his head down; he walked directly to
the staircase and headed for room 304.
At the top of the stairs, he turned without looking and bumped
into a tall kid carrying a gray backpack. He knocked the backpack
out of the kid’s hands and he stopped to help him pick it up. But
when he bent down to help the kid and he said, “I’m so sorry. I’m
in a hurry,” their eyes met and the kid sent him a seductive glance.
He stared at Evan’s lips for a moment and said, “No problem at all,
dude. You can bump into me anytime.” Then he helped Evan stand
up and looked him up and down with eyes that made Evan feel as
if he’d just stepped out of the shower stark naked.
Evan didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been this embarrassed
since the time he’d left the men’s room in a busy restaurant with
a long piece of toilet paper hanging out of the back of his pants.
This kid couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen years
old. When Evan had been seventeen he never would have thought
about flirting with a thirty-year-old man. Evan smiled and turned
fast. “I’m late. Sorry, again.”
“No problem, dude,” the kid said.
As Evan headed to room 304 he had a feeling the kid stared at
him the entire time. He didn’t dare look back. He’d done things in
his life he wasn’t proud of, but he’d never flirted with a minor and
he never would.
He slipped into room 304 as quietly as he could and tiptoed to
a row of seats at the back of the room. The lights had been lowered
and a small group of people sat facing a podium at the front of
the room. When he sat down next to a man with dark brown hair
and he looked up and saw Kenny reading something he’d written,
he pressed his palm to his chest and smiled. For an instant, all his
fears and frustrations disappeared and the world was a comfortable
place to be again.
Kenny was reading something deep and meaningful, and his
expression looked serious in an exaggerated way that came off
more delightful and amusing than intense. Oh, it flung Evan right
back to his own high school days when he’d been this serious
about literary fiction and he’d sworn he could define true literary
fiction. Back then, he knew all the answers. In those days he’d
considered himself an artist, not a writer. He’d learned a great deal
about life and writing and fiction since those days. There truly was
nothing more entertaining than an amateur who thought he knew it
all.
This reading turned out to be absolutely adorable. Evan smiled
even wider when he heard the way Kenny had overwritten his
narrative with too many adverbs and adjectives, and how he’d
screwed up dialogue tags, making small minor errors all new writ-
ers make when they are just starting out. All his characters “grum-
bled, mumbled, pleaded, and cajoled,” when they should have just
“said” or “asked.” If Kenny was serious about being a writer, he
would learn these things in time and he would improve with each
thing he wrote. Even though Evan and his son were not biologi-
cally related, Evan felt proud to see his son follow in his footsteps.
Though Evan would never have said it aloud, he took even more
pride in the fact that his son didn’t want to be a billionaire Wall
Street shark like his other dad. They’d never encouraged Kenny
one way or the other. His natural abilities in English were evident
from the day he entered school. He started to read full novels be-
fore most of the other kids, and it seemed to come naturally to him.
And now, ten years later, he was actually writing his own fiction
and reading it in front of a roomful of people.
When he finished, Evan applauded with the others and turned
to the nice-looking young man sitting beside him. Evan was smil-
ing so wide his face pinched. He said to the man, “That’s my son.
He wrote that on his own. Wasn’t he wonderful?”
The handsome man with brown hair smiled and said, “I know.
I’m his English teacher. He’d a good kid.”
Evan felt his face grow warm. He’d thought this guy was one
of the other parents, not the teacher. He looked to be around twen-
ty-five years old.
The teacher reached out to shake Evan’s hand and introduced
himself. “Carson Savione,” he said. Then he gave Evan the same
seductive glance the kid in the hallway had just given him.
Evan ignored his look and he shook his hand. “I’m Evan Little-
field, Kenny’s dad.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Carson said. “You’re the famous
author in the family. I haven’t read your work, but I’m planning to
soon.”
Evan stared down at his feet and shrugged. “Far from famous.
I’m just a career writer trying to make a decent living doing what I
love most. My son tends to exaggerate sometimes. It will help him
with his fiction someday, I’m sure.” Evan hated pretense of any
kind. He wrote for a living; just like people clean teeth for a living
or build houses for a living. He didn’t think he did anything that
special.
Carson stared into his eyes and said, “He left a few things out.
He didn’t tell me you were so young and attractive. I kind of pic-
tured someone with less hair, a larger waist, and bushy eyebrows.”
Evan was starting to wonder what was with the people at this
school. First the kid in the hall, and now the teacher. So he smiled
and said, “I wish my husband had been able to come tonight. I’m
sorry he missed Kenny’s reading.” He figured if he mentioned Jef-
fery, the teacher would stop flirting.
But Carson tilted his head to the side and said, “I thought you
and your husband were separated. That’s what Kenny said.”
Evan laughed this time. He tended to laugh whenever he felt
uncomfortable. “We’re not exactly separated. We just don’t live
together. You must have misunderstood Kenny. It’s a little compli-
cated. But we’re still very married.” He was not going into details
with a total stranger, especially one so aggressive.
Then someone called the teacher’s name and he turned to see
who it was. Evan figured this was a good chance to escape. He
turned fast and said, “It was nice meeting you. I’m going to wait
for Kenny downstairs now.”
By the time Carson turned around, Evan had reached the door.
Carson waved and said, “It was nice meeting you. I hope I’ll see
you again.”
Evan sent his son’s English teacher a backward glance and
smiled, and then he slipped out the door and practically ran back
downstairs to wait for Kenny on the street.
When Kenny finally did step onto the sidewalk, Evan saw him
from behind a huge potted shrub next to a fire hydrant. He’d been
waiting in the background, trying to avoid contact with any of the
other parents or students. He’d seen a few people he knew and he
didn’t feel like making small talk. He would have gone right back
home but he knew that would have disappointed his son.
Kenny turned and caught a glimpse of him next to the shrub.
He walked over and threw his arms around him. “I figured you’d
be out here,” he said. “I saw you in the back of the room talking to
Mr. Savione.”
It had only been a month since Evan had seen his son and he
looked and felt as if he’d grown another inch. He stepped back and
said, “You look like a man now. I can’t believe you’ve grown up in
such a short amount of time.” He reminded Evan of a young ver-
sion of Tom Cruise, with dark hair, a tight slim body, and a smile
that seemed to stop traffic on the noisy Manhattan street. Only he
was much taller. He was already close to six feet and still growing.
Kenny smiled at his dad and said, “You look great, too. You
shouldn’t be hiding behind a shrub.”
“I feel like an old troll,” Evan said. He hiked up his pants for
the one hundredth time.
“I think Mr. Savione would disagree,” Kenny said. “He came
up to me and said he couldn’t believe I had such a good-looking
young father.” Then Kenny made a face and pretended to gag.
“Mr. Savione seems like a nice man,” Evan said. “He thinks
you’re a great student.” He wasn’t going to discuss the horny
teacher with his son. “And I’m an old married man.”
Kenny leaned forward and said, “I’ll bet if you work it just
right you could get me an A in this class. Savione was practically
drooling over you.”
He knew his son was teasing him now. Kenny had a sense of
humor like Jeffery: he tended to go for the weaker spots and he
knew Evan didn’t like to discuss things like this with him. “Let’s
go get something to drink and talk for a while. I want to catch up.
I’ve missed you.”
When he mentioned getting a drink, Kenny’s head jerked.
“I’m talking about coffee, not booze,” Evan said. “Relax. I’m
sober for good now. You have nothing to worry about.” He figured
he’d get this out of the way sooner rather than later.
As Kenny was about to turn, the same young man who had
bumped into Evan earlier walked up to Kenny and said, “See you
tomorrow, man.” Then he smiled at Evan.
Kenny introduced them. “This is my buddy, Donald Fairweath-
er. Don, this is my dad, Evan Littlefield.”
Donald reached out to shake Evan’s hand and said, “We’ve
already met. I can’t believe this guy is someone’s dad.” He tapped
Evan on the arm and whistled.
Evan wanted to sink into the sidewalk and die of shame. But
he smiled and shook the kid’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Donald.
Now be a good boy and run along.” He wanted to kick him in the
balls, but that wouldn’t have been smart either.
Donald turned to Kenny and said, “I do have to run, man. I’ll
see you tomorrow.” Then he winked at Evan and ran across the
street to meet up with a group of other young people who were
climbing into a taxi.
When he was gone, Evan rolled his eyes and said, “There’s
nothing shy about him.”
They both turned at the same time and started walking to the
next block. “It’s not his fault,” Kenny said. “It’s your fault.”
Evan flung his son a horrified stare. “What are you talking
about?” He didn’t think he’d made any overt advances. He’d been
working hard not to look him in the eye.
Kenny shrugged. “I’ve learned to live with it. You’re just too
good to be true. You do things to guys that make them wild. You
had Mr. Savione and my best friend drooling over you. It’s like you
give off these invisible signals that guys can’t resist. I don’t get it.
But I can’t miss it.”
This time Evan knew his son was joking around in a sarcastic
way. He could tell by that fake lilt in his voice. Kenny knew Evan
tended to be more conservative and talk like this freaked him out.
Like most kids know their parents, he could zoom in on Evan’s
weakest points whenever the mood suited him.
So Evan patted Kenny on the back and said, “And if you keep
it up, young man, I’m going to kick you in the ass.” They’d been
joking around this way since Kenny had been a child, which was
one reason why they were more like friends than father and son.
And Kenny was straight, which seemed to make all this male-
male interaction even more entertaining to him. Kenny had told
them early that he was attracted to women in an almost apologetic
way—as if he’d disappointed his two gay fathers. Both Jeffery and
Evan hugged him and told him he didn’t have to apologize for any-
thing and that he could be whoever he wanted to be, gay, straight,
or bi-sexual for all they cared. They just wanted him to be happy.
This was something else Evan never said aloud to anyone and he
often felt guilty about it: he was glad his son wasn’t gay because
he’d have a much easier life all the way around.
When they reached the corner, Evan said, “Let’s go to that little
coffee place near the house.” He was talking about the townhouse
where Jeffery and Kenny lived, not his own apartment in Alphabet
City downtown. “We’ll talk and then I’ll walk you home and get a
cab.”
“Why don’t I get a few things and go back downtown with you
tonight?” Kenny said. “I’m thinking of moving in with you any-
way. I might as well start moving my things now.”
When Evan heard this, he stopped breathing for a moment. He
turned, with his palm to his throat, and said, “What on Earth are
you talking about?” Kenny had a habit of springing things on him
this way without warning.
Kenny smiled and said, “I’ve already talked to Dad about it and
he’s okay with it. I want to move in with you full time.”
At first, Evan didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t reject his
son, yet he didn’t want him living with him full time because he
wasn’t sure he was strong enough yet to deal with a teenager. “We
have to talk about this more. And my apartment is so far from your
school.”
“Dad said he’d have a car there to pick me up and bring me
home every day,” Kenny said. “We both think it’s a good idea.”
“I saw your dad this afternoon,” Evan said. “He didn’t men-
tion any of this to me.” Wasn’t this just like Jeffery? He did things
like this all the time. He would plan and calculate, setting Evan up
without letting Evan know anything until the final moment. Evan
also had a feeling he knew their motivation. They both thought
he was too unstable to live alone and they wanted Kenny there
at all times to keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t wind up drink-
ing again. This point he knew he couldn’t argue. The only way to
prove to everyone that he could remain sober forever was to show
them, not to tell them. And he had a lot of showing to do.
“Dad wanted me to bring it up first,” Kenny said.
They crossed the street and Evan said, “I’m sure he did. That’s
how your dad operates.”
“Don’t get mad at Dad,” Kenny said. “It really was my idea. At
first, he wasn’t even sure about it. I kept bugging him.”
“I just wish he’d said something to me this afternoon when I
talked to him,” Evan said. For the first time since he’d left Havil-
land, he felt like having a drink. An ice-cold glass of vodka would
have hit the spot.
“You could just come back home and have your own room,”
Kenny said.
Jeffery and Evan had explained their complicated situation
to Kenny as honestly as they could without going into any of the
sexual details he did not need to know. “I’m not ready to do that,”
Evan said. “You know your dad and I love each other. But we can’t
live together right now, and I’m not sure we ever will.”
They talked more about this in detail over coffee and Evan still
wasn’t convinced he was strong enough emotionally to deal with
a teenager full time. He knew Jeffery couldn’t be depended on for
anything but the next business deal he was working on. It wasn’t
that Jeffery was totally absent. Neither Kenny nor Evan had to
worry about money. But Jeffery couldn’t be depended on to deal
with the ordinary mundane issues of everyday life that required
more attention sometimes than a major crisis.
What made Evan’s chest cave in was when Kenny said, “I’m
going away to school next year and I want to spend as much time
with you as I can. Dad’s never home. You know how it is. He’s
always working or traveling. I spend most of the time with Ellie.”
Ellie was their live-in housekeeper at the townhouse, a short,
stout proper British nanny who baked kidney pie and brewed loose
tea with a contraption that looked like it came out of one of Evan’s
historical novels. Evan had hired her when they’d first adopted
Kenny and she’d been there ever since. Evan knew Kenny had a
point. With Ellie around all the time Jeffery never had to worry
about being home for Kenny, not that Jeffery ever actually worried
about anything.
“And that werewolf is really creeping me out,” Kenny said.
Evan covered his mouth and smiled. He even had Kenny call-
ing Jeffery’s assistant the werewolf now. “What does your father’s
assistant have to do with any of this?” Evan asked. He was still
smiling, but he didn’t want to refer to Jeffery’s assistant in front of
Kenny as the werewolf.
“He’s always around, ready to please Dad,” Kenny said. “I
think he’s trying to get into Dad’s pants. If you ask me…”
“Kenny,” Evan said. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk. You
know your father never mixes business and pleasure.” This was
true about Jeffery. He would screw any man on the planet, but he
always kept his business relationships uncomplicated.
Kenny rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not a kid anymore. I know
how things are. I know Dad’s not a saint and that’s one of the rea-
sons you aren’t living at home anymore. But seriously, the were-
wolf is like totally creeped out.”
Evan had to fight to hide his smile this time. He thought the
werewolf was, as Kenny had stated, totally creeped out, too. But he
didn’t want to say this in front of Kenny. “What happens between
your dad and me is something personal that’s just between us and
you don’t need to worry about it. We both love you, and we’re both
there for you, and that’s all you have to worry about.” One thing
he and Jeffery had agreed upon was never to talk down about each
other in front of Kenny.
“Well, I know that,” Kenny said. He rolled his eyes again.
“I’m not mad at either one of you, and I’m not like those kids who
resent their parents getting divorced.”
“We’re not divorced,” Evan said. He might have reacted too
soon. He tended to be sensitive about this because he was still so
much in love with his husband.
Kenny stopped walking and pulled Evan over to bench in one
of those small parks that were cropping up all over Manhattan
thanks to some group that wanted to make the city more appeal-
ing. When they were both seated, Kenny reached for Evan’s hands,
held them, and said, “I just want to spend some time with you right
now. Why does it have to be more complicated than that? I’m not
mad at Dad. I’m not all screwed up or anything like a lot of the
kids I know who come from broken homes.”
Evan shrugged. “You’re not from a broken home. Your father
and I love each other more now than we did the day we met. I’ve
told you the story of how we met and fell in love a million times. It
happened when we least expected it.”
Kenny squeezed his hands tighter. “I know that story. Please
spare me the mushy details. And tell me it’s okay for me to move
in.”
Evan felt himself getting weaker. “And you’re sure your dad is
okay with this?”
“We’ve talked about it and he’s fine.”
“If I did agree, which I’m not sure I will yet, I still have to talk
to your dad about it first.”
Kenny laughed. “You know Dad would do anything for you.
All you have to do is ask.”
“Is it that obvious?” Evan asked. He’d never been able to de-
pend on Jeffery emotionally. But he did know Jeffery would have
done almost anything he asked. He’d always wondered if other
people noticed the power they both had over each other.
“It’s that obvious.” Kenny frowned and shrugged his shoulders.
“I know how Dad can be sometimes. I’m not stupid. But I also
know he’d never say no to you.”
Evan stood up and they started toward the avenue where he
would hail a cab. When they reached the corner, he asked, “If I
agree to you moving in with me, when is this going to take place?”
“I can move in tonight,” Kenny said.
Evan had been thinking more along the lines of a month or
two, just to give himself time to get used to being back in the real
world again. “You’re pushing me now.”
“I know,” Kenny said.
Evan saw an empty cab approach and he lifted his arm. When
the driver stopped, he opened the door and said, “I’ll talk to your
dad tomorrow and we’ll set a date.” He knew this went against
all his better judgment, but he couldn’t say no to his son. And as
frightened as he was about having Kenny live with him full time,
he knew deep down he wanted to spend this time with his son
while he was still young enough to enjoy him. Kenny would be a
grown man in a few years and Evan would never get this time back
again.
When he said this, Kenny grabbed him and hugged him so hard
he almost took his breath away, which was not something Kenny
did often. “This is so cool. I love you, Dad.”
Evan climbed into the backseat and said, “I love you, too, kid.
I’ll call you tomorrow.”
As the driver pulled away from the curb, Evan glanced back
through the rear windshield and waved at his son. Kenny was
standing on the sidewalk, with his long legs spread apart, waving
with both arms in the air. But it was the smile on his son’s face
that caused a sting in his eyes. Evan had missed a few events in his
son’s life because of his drinking, and he knew he could never get
them back again, but he could at least try to do the right thing now
while he still had a chance.
Chapter Five
“I don’t see any harm in it,” Jeffery said. “I’m on my way to
the West Coast and I can’t talk long. There’s a car waiting for me
downstairs.”
“This is a big thing,” Evan said. “Our son wants to move in
with me full time and I’m not sure it’s the best thing for him.” As
Evan had promised his son, he’d phoned Jeffery to see how he felt
about Kenny moving in with Evan full time.
“You’re his father, too,” Jeffery said. “And it’s not like he’s
moving to a different country. He’s going to the same school. He’ll
still be able to go back and forth between the townhouse and your
apartment. I don’t see an issue. I think it would be good for you
both.”
“And you can come and go as you please,” Evan said. He’d
promised himself he wouldn’t get nasty with Jeffery. But Evan
tended to read between the lines for ulterior motives whenever Jef-
fery proposed something to him.
“I already come and go as I please,” Jeffery said.
“That’s true.” Evan sighed. He wanted things to be different;
he wanted Jeffery to change so they could live together as a family
again.
“Now you sound angry,” Jeffery said.
“I’m not angry,” Evan said. “I’m worried. I recently got out of
rehab and I’m still getting myself together. This was the last thing I
expected to be dealing with. I haven’t even started working yet.”
Jeffery hesitated for a moment. Evan heard his assistant, the
werewolf, come into the office and ask him a question. Evan
couldn’t hear exactly what the werewolf said, but it made him
clench his fists to think Jeffery would ignore him when they were
talking about something so important.
“Are you still there?” Evan asked, speaking louder.
“I’m here,” Jeffery said. “But I have to go. Look, I think this is
a good thing for both of you. Kenny’s talked to me about it and I
support it completely. He needs time with you and if you don’t let
him live with you he might hold it against you for the rest of his
life.”
Evan had considered this already. If he refused to take Kenny
full time, Kenny might resent him forever, which could define their
future relationship. And he didn’t want that to happen. Besides,
he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Jeffery today. This
new business deal he’d been working on seemed to be consuming
him. “I’ll call him and tell him he can move in next Friday night. I
want to fix the apartment up a little before then.”
“Excellent,” Jeffery said. “Then it’s all settled. I’ll arrange to
have a car pick him up to and from school. If you need anything,
let me know. You know you don’t have to want for anything.”
“I know,” Evan said. The trouble was that the one thing he
wanted didn’t cost anything: living like a real family, with his hus-
band and son. And Jeffery couldn’t seem to provide this.
“So we’re good?” Jeffery asked.
“We’re good,” Evan said. “Call me and let me know when you
get to the West Coast.” Jeffery always checked in with him when
he traveled. It was the one thing Evan knew he could depend on.
Jeffery said, “I will. Love you.”
When Evan told Kenny he could move in full time the follow-
ing Friday night, Kenny said he’d be there in time for dinner. He
sounded so excited on the phone Evan couldn’t help smiling and
feeling the same way. Then Evan went to work on the apartment.
With his best friend Cadin’s help, he managed to paint every single
room, including the small kitchen, a bright, clean shade of off-
white. He ordered a new full-sized mattress for Kenny’s room, plus
new pillows, sheets, and covers. He even painted the insides of all
the closets so everything would be fresh and new.
By Thursday evening he sat back on the sofa and glanced at
the living room. They’d finished putting all the furniture back
and Cadin had just left. Evan had offered to take him out to din-
ner that night as thanks for all his help. But Cadin asked for a rain
check because he had a date that night with a new guy he’d met
on the Internet. From what Cadin said, a cute guy with nice big
hips. Evan didn’t pursue it. He was so tired all he wanted to do
was fall into his bed and sleep for hours. He hadn’t done that much
manual labor since the first year he’d moved into the apartment.
He could have asked Jeffery to send painters over. Jeffery would
have paid the bill and Evan wouldn’t have had to lift a finger. But
this was where Evan tended to be stubborn. He knew if he did that,
he would grow more co-dependent on Jeffery than he already was.
And Evan didn’t want a co-dependent marriage. He wanted a real
marriage, where both people were equals, and he wouldn’t settle
for less.
He yawned and noticed the painting over the fireplace was
crooked, so he got up to straighten it. When he stepped back to
make sure it was straight, he felt a hunger pang and realized he
didn’t have a thing to eat in the house. If there was one thing
about Kenny he knew to be true, it was his appetite. The boy never
stopped eating. How he managed to eat so much and never get
fat amazed Evan. Even at Kenny’s age, Evan would have gained
weight if he’d eaten that much.
But Evan was too tired to go shopping that evening, and he had
a luncheon appointment with his agent on Friday he knew would
take up most of the afternoon, so he figured he’d phone the grocery
store and have a list of things delivered instead. They would prob-
ably order take-out tomorrow night—Kenny could eat an entire
pizza himself—but at least there would be food in the apartment in
case Kenny got hungry late at night.
He placed the order, and went into the bathroom to take a quick
shower. When he dried himself off, he shaved and put on a pair of
white briefs. He’d figured it would take at least an hour to have the
groceries delivered and he had plenty of time to get dressed.
But while he was arranging new white bath towels he’d pur-
chased that week at Gracious Home, he heard a knock on the door
and he glanced at his watch. It couldn’t have been more than forty
minutes since he’d placed the order. He heard a louder knock and
grabbed a white dress shirt hanging on a hook behind the bathroom
door. He’d sent his robe out with the rest of his laundry, and the
white shirt was long enough to cover everything. It was an old shirt
that had once belonged to Jeffery, with frayed sleeves and tails
that stopped at the middle of his thighs. He often slept in this shirt
because it he felt so comfortable in it.
After another knock, he said, “I’ll be right there.” Then he but-
toned the shirt and jogged to the door in his bare feet. On the way,
he pulled cash out of his wallet for a tip. He felt a little lightheaded
and blamed it on the combination of paint fumes and not eating
enough that day.
He hadn’t planned on letting anyone inside. He would open the
door partially, reach out and take the box of groceries, and hand
the delivery person a tip. But when he opened the door, the deliv-
ery person pushed it forward before he had a chance to protest. He
walked over to the dining table without glancing back at where
Evan was hiding behind the door. Evan stood there speechless,
watching the same red-headed delivery man he’d met the day he’d
been discharged from Havilland walk across his apartment. He
pulled the shirt down to make sure his underwear wasn’t exposed.
The guy set the box on the table and turned to face Evan. His
eyes opened wider and he rubbed his chin. “Hey, dude,” he said.
“Looks like you got caught with your pants down, man.” He was
trying to make a joke, but joking didn’t come easily to him.
Evan felt his face grown warm. He smiled and pretended
nothing was out of the ordinary. After all, guys walked around in
their underwear all the time and no one made a fuss about it. He
took a few steps forward and reached out with the five-dollar bill.
“Thanks for carrying it in. This is for you. I told them to charge the
order to Jeffery Charles.”
The red-headed guy ignored him. He looked him up and down
again and said, “You look nice. I think you were expecting me.”
Evan rolled his eyes and laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, bud-
dy.” After that smug remark, his embarrassment turned into frustra-
tion. He hadn’t planned anything. This guy was new and Evan had
only met him that one time. Besides, if he had planned on seducing
the delivery man he would have at least dried his hair.
The guy walked up to him and said, “I don’t think so. Don’t be
shy. It’s a little obvious, but it’s cute.”
Evan stepped back and said, “I think you got the wrong idea.
My son is moving in here full time tomorrow and this isn’t some-
thing I would do on purpose.” At least it wasn’t something Evan
would have done on purpose sober. If he’d been drinking, he would
have done something like this, and more. He probably would have
opened the door stark naked and pulled the delivery guy into the
apartment.
“You don’t look old enough to have a kid,” the guy said.
“We adopted him when he was seven,” Evan said. The guy
was wearing faded jeans that hung low on his hips. His jacket was
some kind of black shiny material and his black work boots had
those thick nubby ridged soles. Evan noticed his large hands and
his thick neck. He had a deep voice and spoke with a Bronx accent.
As the guy moved closer, Evan continued to step back. “I think
you should leave now. You seem like a nice guy but I didn’t plan
anything.” He knew he was smiling; he tried to stop. But there was
something adorable about this guy he found hard to resist.
“I don’t think you want me to leave,” the guy said. He contin-
ued to smile.
When Evan’s back was to the wall next to the door, Evan
pressed his palms to the guy’s chest and tried to push him. But his
body was wide and solid, and Evan didn’t push too hard. “I’m go-
ing to be thirty years old. You can’t be older than twenty.”
The guy reached out and grabbed Evan by the waist. “I’m
nineteen and as far as I know I’m legal. That’s not much of an age
difference anyways. Besides, I like older dudes, especially older
dudes with legs like yours.” His right hand went down and he
started caressing Evan’s thigh.
Evan felt more like eighty years old. The way he’d said “any-
ways” made Evan cringe for a second. He tried pushing him one
more time; he tried one last time explaining that he hadn’t planned
to seduce him. When he was sober, Evan didn’t think that way and
he never planned anything in advance—which tended to be part
of his problem in life. But the guy continued to caress his thigh,
which only made Evan’s voice grow weaker. Then he started to un-
button Evan’s shirt. Before Evan knew it, the white shirt was fall-
ing off his shoulders and the young guy was pulling down Evan’s
underpants.
It all happened fast and Evan had no time to think about it.
When he realized how attracted he was to this guy, he stopped talk-
ing, stopped making excuses, and submitted completely. Although
he had sex with Jeffery often, this was the first time in a long time
he’d had sex with another man while he hadn’t been drinking. It
wasn’t cheating. Jeffery and Evan had an open marriage and Jef-
fery had been the one who’d wanted an open marriage. But more
than that, this young red-headed guy with the scruffy beard and
shiny black jacket had always been the kind of man Evan had
fantasized about. He wasn’t by any means as attractive as Jeffery,
at least not in a handsome refined way. This guy was stockier and
rougher. His hands moved with sharp jerks in ways that made Evan
breathe heavier. He spoke with poor grammar and didn’t seem to
care. When he pulled the white shirt of Evan’s back and said, “You
don’t need to do nothing but what I tell you to do,” Evan’s erection
started to pulse.
Then he pulled Evan’s underwear down to the middle of his
thighs and he slapped Evan on the ass. “Get down on your fucking
knees and suck my dick. You know that’s what you want. That’s
why you answered the door dressed that way. You don’t have to
play no games with me, man. It’s cool. I’ll take care of you.”
Evan thought about protesting all this one more time. But it
didn’t seem to matter anymore. Jeffery was off on the West Coast
doing whatever it was he did without Evan. As far as Evan knew
Jeffery could have been screwing half the guys in Silicon Valley.
So he reached up and caressed the red-headed guy’s scruffy face,
and then he pulled off his underwear, went down on his knees, and
pulled the guy’s zipper down.
The guy turned out to be as thick as Evan had hoped he would
be. He’d also been wearing boxer shorts, which Evan had hoped he
would be wearing. Although Jeffery always wore expensive de-
signer underwear, the rough guys who wore loose boxer shorts did
something to Evan he couldn’t explain. He even enjoyed reaching
into the fly of the guy’s boxer shorts to pull out his dick. Nothing
could be more of a turn off to Evan than a guy wearing underwear
that looked like women’s panties.
Evan took his time and held him gently. When his dick was
sticking out of his shorts, Evan then reached in to pull out his balls.
He saw no reason to hold back. He’d never done anything like
this with a delivery man and he wanted to enjoy the novelty of the
experience for as long as it lasted.
The guy spread his legs wider and he grabbed Evan’s head with
both hands. When he leaned back, Evan closed his eyes and started
sucking. He had to open his mouth extra wide; the corners of his
lips hurt because the guy was so thick. But once Evan’s tongue
found the bottom of the guy’s shaft, his jaw indented and he went
to work. The guy held his head the entire time, pulling and jerk-
ing him around. At some point, the aggressive guy moved his hips
and slammed into the deepest part of Evan’s throat without warn-
ing. Evan had never been the type to gag; he’d never coughed or
choked. A big thick dick in his mouth felt as natural to him as a
length of rosary beads in a nun’s hand. Although he wouldn’t have
gone as far as calling cock-sucking a religious experience, it came
damn near close to putting him into a higher state of conscious-
ness. In fact, for gay men like Evan, nothing else existed to which
cock-sucking could be compared.
The guy had to get back to work, so they both knew it wouldn’t
last long. Eventually, the guy grabbed the back of Evan’s head and
said, “Get up and bend over the table.”
While Evan followed his orders, the guy took a condom out
of his back pocket, pulled his pants and boxer shorts down to his
knees, and put on the condom. Evan was ready and waiting for
him. He’d lifted his right leg up and rested it on the dining table
and his left remained braced to the floor. The guy slapped Evan’s
ass with his dick and he played with Evan’s hole for a minute or
two with his fingers. When he finally entered, Evan’s head went up
and he grabbed both sides of the table and squeezed as hard as he
could. Though the condom was pre-lubed, the girth and length felt
more like an invasion than a welcoming experience. The pain ren-
dered Evan speechless for so long he never thought it would pass.
But when it did, which he knew it would, Evan arched his back
and reached around the grab the young guy’s thigh. Each time the
guy went deep, Evan pulled on his thigh, begging him to go even
deeper without saying a word. They lasted in this position for a few
minutes, then the guy pulled out and said, “Get on your back and
lift up your legs.”
When Evan did this, the guy entered him again and this time he
moved faster. Evan kept sliding backward on the dining table be-
cause there was nothing to hold, and the guy had to grab his thighs
and keep pulling him forward. He didn’t seem to mind. He only
fucked faster and he never took his eyes off what was happening
between Evan’s legs.
Evan thought they would come this way. He’d been stroking
himself the entire time. But then the guy stopped fucking and he
pulled out. He slapped Evan on the ass and said, “I’m close, man.
Get down on your knees again.”
The guy didn’t have to go into a detailed explanation for Evan.
During a fuck session like this, any gay man with the most limited
experience would have known what he wanted.
The guy helped Evan climb down from the table, in an unex-
pected gentle way. This time he reached for a throw pillow so Evan
would have something to kneel on, which Evan thought was a nice
gesture for someone who seemed so clueless. When Evan was on
the floor kneeling, the guy pulled off the condom and put the head
of his dick into Evan’s mouth. Evan grabbed his thigh with one
hand, and grabbed his own dick with the other. The guy started to
jack and his fist bumped into Evan’s lips, so Evan closed his eyes
and waited. In less than a minute or two, the guy came. Then the
guy released his dick and grabbed Evan’s face. Evan took it all the
way into his mouth, sucking even harder.
After Evan climaxed, he continued to suck until the guy
laughed and said, “I have to get back to the store. Damn. I wish
you’d teach my girlfriend how to suck dick like that.”
Evan glanced up. “Your girlfriend?” He should have guessed.
The guy pulled up his pants and said, “She tries, but those
fucking teeth kill me. And she only sucks on the head, with that
hand over hand thing, as if she doesn’t like sucking dick.”
Evan smiled and reached for his white shirt. He put it on and
stood up. Though he knew most men hated nothing more than teeth
during a blow job, he didn’t feel like handing out blow job advice
to anyone. The girlfriend could learn how to suck cock on her own.
On his way out, the guy reached down and patted Evan on the
ass. “I guess I’ll see you around, man. Maybe next time I’ll fuck
you in the bedroom.”
As far as Evan was concerned there wouldn’t be a next time.
He would start shopping at another store because he wasn’t inter-
ested in making this a regular event. But he smiled and said, “Let
me give you a tip.” He was going to give him five dollars, but he
figured he’d better give him more now.
The guy laughed and said, “Fuck, man. I should be giving you
a tip. Forget about it.” Then grabbed Evan’s back, pulled him for-
ward, and kissed him on the mouth.
When he was gone, Evan picked up his underwear and walked
to his bedroom. He fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceil-
ing, amazed at how satisfied he felt after such a cold, emotion-
less encounter. He didn’t even know the delivery guy’s name. He
wanted a drink now more than any time since he’d left Havilland.
He would have killed for the taste of ice-cold vodka sliding down
his throat.
But he noticed something else that evening he’d never experi-
enced before. He’d just had sex with a stranger and he hadn’t been
drunk this time. And though he felt a little guilty about it, the over-
whelming feeling of self-hate did not rush through his body and fill
him with anxiety. The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach didn’t
happen. The craving for alcohol would never disappear. He knew
this deep down and he would have to figure out a way to live with
it. But at least he wasn’t falling apart this time, running down the
steps to the nearest bar. And for the first time since he’d moved out
of the townhouse, he wondered if Jeffery might not be right about
having an open marriage. At least it was something to consider.
Chapter Six
“I can’t stay much longer,” Cadin said. “I’m meeting the same
guy I saw last night.”
“The one with the big ass?” Evan asked.
Cadin smiled and pretended to fuck the chair. “I prefer full
hips, thank you.”
“Please stay until he gets here,” Evan said. “It will help break
the ice.” He’d asked Cadin to come over to be there when Kenny
arrived.
Cadin glanced at his watch, frowned, and said, “I can stay an-
other half hour. But that’s it.”
Evan decided to change the subject and ask Cadin more about
his date. He knew his best friend better than anyone and he knew
how much Cadin liked talking about himself. “So do you think this
could be something serious?” In spite his own disillusions with
love, Evan still believed in the concept of love and he wanted his
best friend to live happily ever after. This concept of living happily
ever after for gay people was still so new, half of the gay people
Evan knew weren’t completely convinced it even existed.
“I don’t want to talk about it too much,” Cadin said. “You
know how I feel about Kina Hora.”
Evan laughed. Cadin tended to be superstitious and he used
the phrase Kina Hora often. Though Cadin was not Jewish, it was
a Yiddish word that was supposed to protect people from jealousy
and bad luck when something good happens to them. “You can
tell me the basics, without the details. I’m not going to wish you
bad luck. I love you.” He was smiling the entire time, but he was
so nervous about Kenny moving in that night he felt like running
down to the corner bar and having a martini. He actually had to
lace his fingers together to keep his hands from shaking.
Cadin went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and said, “He’s
thirty-five, he’s a schoolteacher in Brooklyn, and he’s recently
divorced.” Evan kept a pot of coffee going all day. He hadn’t re-
placed alcohol with caffeine; nothing could do that. It just helped
him get through the day.
Cadin frowned. “From a man or a woman?”
“A woman,” Cadin said, carrying a fresh mug of coffee into the
living room.
“Does he have kids?”
Cadin shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Two boys,” he said.
“Ages eleven and thirteen.”
This was interesting to Evan because Cadin had never been
particularly fond of children. “Are you sure you should be getting
involved with a guy who has kids?”
“No. But I like him a lot.”
“Good for you,” Evan said. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re
willing to keep an open mind. Five years ago you wouldn’t have
done that.”
“Five years ago I was only twenty-five and I thought I’d be
young forever,” Cadin said. “Five years ago I had no idea how fast
five years would fly by and I’d be thirty.”
“Isn’t that the truth?”
The phone rang and Cadin picked it up first because he was
standing next to it. Evan got up from the sofa and watched him.
The only person who would call at that hour would be Jeffery.
And he’d already checked in with Evan from the West Coast a few
hours earlier.
Cadin said, “I’m not sure, but I’ll check and see,” and he cov-
ered the receiver with his palm and said, “It’s a guy named Carson
Savione. He wants to talk to you.”
Evan’s head turned sideways. “What in the world does he
want?” He’d probably found Evan’s number in Kenny’s school
records. The school had both his and Jeffery’s contact information
in case of an emergency.
Cadin glanced at his watch and said, “Don’t ask me.”
“He’s Kenny’s English teacher,” Evan said. “I met him the
night I went to hear Kenny do a reading at his school. He flirted
with me.” Evan hadn’t mentioned the way Carson had flirted with
him that night to anyone up until now, the same way he hadn’t
mentioned he’d had sex with the delivery guy from the grocery
store. He shared some things with his good friends, but not every-
thing. He’d always believed there were certain things everyone had
a right to keep to themselves and no one else had a right to know
them.
“What should I say?”
The buzzer sounded and Evan said, “That’s Kenny down-
stairs.”
“Should I tell this dude you’re not here?” Cadin said. “It might
not be a good idea to get involved with your son’s teacher.”
Evan thought for a moment, and then said, “It could be about
Kenny, not about me. Maybe it’s something to do with school. Tell
him I’ll be right there. I’ll take it in the bedroom. Would you buzz
Kenny up?” He felt a twinge of guilt for not putting Kenny first.
When Evan went into his bedroom, he closed the door and picked
up the phone. “Hello, this is Evan Littlefield.” He hoped Carson
was calling about Kenny.
“Hey, this is Carson Savione. We met at your son’s school. I’m
his English teacher.”
“Yes. I remember,” Evan said. “Is everything okay with
Kenny? He’s not in trouble or failing something, is he?” Although
Kenny had always been an A student, he decided to ask just in
case.
“No. He’s fine,” Carson said. “I called to speak to you about
something else. I was wondering if you’d like to get together one
night next week.”
This wasn’t something Evan wanted to deal with that night. He
took a quick breath and pressed his palm to his stomach, wonder-
ing what to say now. “Can I call you back tomorrow? It’s kind of
busy around here tonight. Kenny is moving in full time with me to-
night and he just arrived.” This was actually the first time anything
like this had come up and he wondered if accepting a date with a
guy was allowed in an open marriage. But more than that, he found
it both flattering and unnerving that Carson Savione would actually
call him and ask him out.
Carson said, “Sure you can.” Then he gave Evan his number.
When Evan hung up, he walked into the living room and found
Kenny hugging Cadin.
“I can’t believe how big you are,” Cadin said. “Your dad
wasn’t joking around when he told me you’re almost a grown
man.”
“You look good, too,” Kenny said.
“Come over here and give your dad a hug now,” Evan said.
Now that Kenny was there, with several suitcases and a backpack,
he didn’t feel as anxious as he had a few minutes earlier. He even
thought about how nice it might be to have another person in the
house.
While Kenny hugged Evan, he glanced around the apartment
and said, “This place looks fantastic.”
Kenny smiled and glanced down at the floor. “I wanted to fix
things up for you, and Cadin gave me a lot of help. I would have
done more in the kitchen but there wasn’t time.” Even he had to
admit the clean bright paint and all the cleaning out he’d done had
turned that apartment into a new place. As a writer, Evan knew
how important it was to edit. So he applied those editing skills to
his apartment and he’d removed anything that didn’t need to be
there. He’d removed tables, chairs, stacks of books, and wall hang-
ings he’d grown tired of looking at. The apartment not only looked
better, it felt larger and more open than it had in years and the good
pieces of furniture he had actually stood out.
“It looks great,” Kenny said, taking a step back. “I’ll bring my
suitcases into my room and unpack them later.”
Cadin reached for his coat and said, “I have to be going. I have
a date and I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Kenny gave Cadin another hug and carried his bags into his
bedroom.
As Evan walked Cadin to the door, he said, “Thanks for being
here and helping me out with everything. I honestly don’t know
what I would do without my friends.”
When he reached the door, Cadin stopped and turned. He put
his arms around Evan and hugged him tightly. “Are you going to
be okay? You sound uptight.”
Evan smiled. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“What did the schoolteacher want?”
Evan had been hoping Cadin would forget about the phone call
from Carson. He shrugged and said, “He wants to have dinner with
me next week. I said I’d call him back.”
“I think you should call him back and have dinner with him,”
Cadin said.
Evan’s eyebrows went up. “You do?” He’d seemed against it at
first and Evan wondered what had changed his mind.
Cadin nodded and said, “It’s time to go out and have a little
fun. You know it’s never going to work out with you and Jeffery.”
Cadin had never hidden that fact that he didn’t think Jeffery was
right for Evan. Though he didn’t dislike Jeffery as a man, he’d
never thought Jeffery knew how to deal with Evan’s emotions.
“He’s never going to change and you’re not the one who is going
to change him. As soon as you figure that out, you’ll be much hap-
pier.”
“I know that,” Evan said.
“I wonder if you do sometimes,” Cadin said. “All these years
you’ve been married to him you’ve been trying to change him
and turn him into someone he’s not. He likes to screw around.
He cheats and lies whenever he gets a chance. He’s the ultimate
example of pure douchbaggery and you’ve never been able to deal
with it.”
“He’s good to me and he’s a great father,” Evan said. He hated
it whenever someone talked down about Jeffery—even if they
were right.
“That doesn’t make him a good husband and you know it.”
Cadin grabbed Evan’s arms and he held them firmly. He looked
into his eyes and said, “I think it’s time to move on and put the past
behind you. This guy at Kenny’s school sounds like he could be
good for you and that would be a novelty in itself. Give him a call
and have dinner with him. I don’t see how it can hurt.”
Evan knew he wasn’t wrong. “I’ll think about it. I’m not sure.
I’m still a married man.” The arrangement he had with Jeffery, as
far as Evan understood it, was to have sex, not date outside the
marriage.
Cadin rolled his eyes and opened the door. “Give me a break.
Do you honestly think Jeffery never takes anyone else out? Seri-
ously, man. I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you’re doing. If you
need anything, call me.” Then he told him he loved him, kissed
him goodbye, and headed out the door.
When he was gone, Evan went into Kenny’s room where he
found him unpacking jeans from a suitcase that reminded Evan
of a doctor’s medical bag from the early 1900s. He sat down on
Kenny’s bed and said, “I hope you like the changes I made. I tried
to keep it masculine and butch. Nothing frilly or girly.”
Kenny dropped his jeans and laughed. “Dad, just because I’m
straight doesn’t mean you have to overcompensate. I mean, it’s not
like you have to hang baseball bats on the wall and put Playboy
magazines under the mattress.”
Evan’s head went back. “I would never do that.”
Kenny laughed and said, “But I know you thought about it.”
This was true. Evan often did overcompensate because his
son was straight. And he did this because he didn’t want Kenny
to think he was trying to influence him with gay culture. He also
wanted Kenny to know he loved him no matter what his sexual
preference was. This, for Evan, was important. He often worried
Kenny might wind up resenting him if he didn’t treat him like a
straight kid. He’d felt that way growing up as a gay kid when his
parents treated him like a straight kid. He didn’t want to make
the same mistakes, and in turn he wound up going in the opposite
direction, to the point of looking foolish at times. So Evan laughed
and said, “Okay, I thought about it. But I didn’t do it. No girly
magazines under the mattress. I promise.”
Kenny placed his jeans on a shelf in the closet and said, “What
do you want to do for dinner? We can go out. We can order out.
Or we can just call the grocery store on the corner and have a few
things delivered.”
When Evan heard him mention having groceries delivered,
he flung out his hand and said, “No. I’d rather not order from the
grocery store on the corner.” The last thing he needed was for the
nineteen-year-old delivery man to show up.
Kenny’s head tilted back. “Why?”
He laughed and said, “I did that yesterday. The kitchen is
stocked with the best junk food ever made. I think we should order
take-out from the sushi place two blocks away.” He knew they
delivered and the person who delivered was a woman, not a man.
“Cool,” Kenny said. “I’ll get the menu. Are the menus still in
the same drawer?”
Evan smiled when he heard Kenny remembered where he kept
the take-out menus. He hadn’t even spent a weekend with him in
the last year. “Yes. They’re still in the same place as always.”
* * * *
They ate so much sushi that night Evan plopped on the sofa
and didn’t have the energy to reach for the TV remote. He held his
stomach and said, “I have to be careful. I’m not used to eating that
much.”
Kenny sat down on a black leather club chair and flung him a
look. “Seriously? Dad, you barely ate anything. I’m the one who
ate like a pig. You’re skin and bones.”
Evan hadn’t gained any weight since he’d been discharged
from Havilland and he hadn’t been paying attention. “I guess
you’re right,” he said. “You did eat way more than I did. But I’m
still not used to eating that much.” When he drank, alcohol tended
to make him look swollen. It also made him hungry. Without alco-
hol, he had to remind himself to eat otherwise he would forget.
“Can we watch Star Wars tonight?” Kenny asked. He’d seen
each Star Wars movie at least a dozen times and it had become a
ritual to watch them together. Kenny had been fascinated with the
Star Wars saga since he’d been a kid. As child, he’d even worn
Star Wars Halloween costumes. He’d been every male character
in the film. And he’d thought it was hysterical the year Evan had
decided to dress up for Halloween as Princess Leia. Thankfully,
Kenny had no idea that Jeffery thought Evan dressed up as Prin-
cess Leia was even more entertaining. That night he’d fucked Evan
for so long he had bruises on the back of his legs the next morning.
“Of course we can,” Evan said. “But let’s sit and talk for a few
minutes.” He hadn’t been alone this way with Kenny in a long time
and he wanted to get to know him as a young adult. He knew there
were still hints of him as a child, but for the most part he was al-
most grown. He wanted to know the kind of man his son was going
to turn out to be.
Kenny placed the TV remote on a glass topped table next to the
chair and said, “What should we talk about?”
“What’s Mr. Savione like?” Evan asked.
“He’s a good teacher,” Kenny said. “I like him.”
“How would you feel about me going out to dinner with him?”
Kenny hesitated for a moment. He tended to think first before
he replied to any question. This time it took a little longer. “What
about Dad?”
Evan shrugged and said, “I’m not sure how he’ll feel about it.
Your father and I have a complicated relationship that is very per-
sonal. We’ve talked about seeing other people and we both agreed
it’s okay as long as neither one of us gets emotionally involved.”
He’d never actually talked about this openly with Kenny. He
wanted to do it because he suspected Kenny had to be wondering
about their arrangement.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Kenny said. “If two people love
each other I don’t get why they can’t live together and be happy
with that.”
Evan laughed. “I’m not sure I understand it either, kid. But
that’s how it is right now and there’s not much I can do to change
it. You know I love your dad, and you know I have never talked
down about him to you. And I never will do that. But he’s a com-
plicated man and I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to change him
anymore.”
“But you still love Dad,” Kenny said. He seemed genuinely
curious.
Evan smiled and said, “I love him more now than the first day I
met him. But I’m not sure love solves all the problems in a rela-
tionship. I used to think it would. But not anymore.”
“It should,” Kenny said. “And I know Dad loves you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I asked him and he told me basically the same thing you just
said.”
This comment from Kenny caused a tug in Evan’s heart.
He wanted to change the subject because he didn’t want to dis-
cuss anything with Kenny he wasn’t sure he understood himself.
“Would you be okay with me going out to dinner with Mr. Savi-
one?”
“I guess it would be okay,” Kenny said. “As long as I don’t
have to call him Dad or anything like that.”
Evan laughed and said, “Oh God, it’s nothing like that. I prom-
ise you. It’s just dinner and that’s it.”
“But you’ll talk to Dad about it first,” Kenny said.
“Of course I will.”
“And what if he says it would bother him?”
Evan looked up at the ceiling and sighed aloud. “I’m not sure I
can answer that right now.”
“This is just a suggestion,” Kenny said. “Maybe it might be a
good thing if you went out with Mr. Savione, especially if it both-
ers Dad. This way he might get really jealous if he thinks there
could be something serious with you and Mr. Savione.”
He sent his son a glance and said, “How did you get so smart?”
He’d been thinking the same thing but he didn’t want Kenny to
think he was devious that way. He knew Jeffery would never for-
bid him to go out with Carson, but he also knew Jeffery never hid
his anger.
“I’d like to see you happy,” Kenny said. “And I don’t want you
to start drinking again.”
“I’m sorry for everything,” Evan said. “I once swore I’d never
do to my kid what my dad did to me with his drinking, and I
wound up repeating the same mistakes all over.”
“I didn’t know your dad had a drinking problem,” Kenny said.
Evan’s dad had died long before Evan had met Jeffery and ad-
opted Kenny. “My dad didn’t think he had a problem either, which
is how he wound up driving into a tree on his way home from a bar
one rainy night when I was fifteen years old. I still don’t think I’ve
forgiven him for that.” He sat up and leaned forward. “I don’t want
you to end up feeling that way about me. Of all the horrible things
in the world I can think about, that would be the worst.”
“You broke the cycle,” Kenny said. “You at least admit you
have a problem and you’ve gone for help. That’s a huge difference
than what your dad did.”
For a moment, Evan sat back and thought about this. While
he’d been beating himself up over his drinking problem, he’d
never actually realized he had done things differently than his own
alcoholic father. “Thank you for being so forgiving.”
“I’m not that forgiving,” Kenny said. He stared down at his lap
to avoid Evan’s eyes.
Evan felt a sharp pain in his stomach. “What do you mean?”
“I never forgave you for moving out of the townhouse and
moving back here,” Kenny said. “I felt as if you’d abandoned me.”
This was hard to explain to his son, but he had to try. “I’m not
always tough enough to deal with your dad. I had to leave and it
had nothing to do with you. I was afraid if I didn’t leave he would
wind up consuming me completely. And I didn’t want to ruin your
life either. At the time I was out of control and I knew it. And
although I regret having to leave you, I don’t regret leaving that
situation. I did the best thing I could at the time and I can’t apolo-
gize for that. The only thing I can say is that I wish things had been
different for you.”
Kenny glanced into his eyes and shrugged. “I’m not saying I
had a bad childhood. Hell, you should hear what I hear from other
kids in school. Some of them have moms and dads who are di-
vorced and they fight all the time. I know a few kids who have to
spend two days at their mom’s house and then the next two days
at their dad’s house. It just keeps rotating that way forever. That
would freak me out. I like to be stable and know where I’m going
to be every night when I come home from school. I also know kids
who have stepmoms and stepdads and that’s even worse. I guess
I’ve been pretty lucky for the most part. I have two dads who love
each other, they never fight, and they always put me first.”
Evan stood up and he crossed to a cabinet where he kept the
DVDs so they could watch Star Wars. He sent Kenny a backward
glance and said, “It’s going to be better from now on. I can’t prom-
ise anything with your dad. But I can promise you that I won’t be
drinking anymore. And, I’m glad you’re living here now.”
Then he turned toward the DVD player and pushed a button. It
felt good talking to Kenny about these things. He only wished that
craving for a drink would go away, at least for a few minutes. He
wanted one even more now than earlier.
Chapter Seven
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Evan said. It was
Saturday morning and Evan had been disrupted from a deep sleep
a half hour earlier thanks to Kenny’s music and all the banging
around he’d done in the kitchen. It was the first time he’d been up
before ten in the morning in long time.
“How’s Kenny?” Jeffery asked. He was calling from the West
Coast. “Did he move in last night? I haven’t spoken to him yet.”
Evan yawned and said, “He’s fine. He moved in last night, and
this morning I woke to the lovely sound of Mumford & Sons blast-
ing in the kitchen. He went to football practice.” Actually, Evan
liked Mumford & Sons, but not before noon on a Saturday.
Jeffery whispered something Evan couldn’t make out. “Do you
have someone in bed with you right now?” Evan asked.
“I thought we agreed not to discuss it when we have sex with
other people,” Jeffery said.
They had agreed to this, only Evan hadn’t been happy about
it then and he still wasn’t happy about it now, all these years later.
The thought of another man in bed with his husband made him
want to throw the phone across the room. But he couldn’t com-
plain, so he said, “I can call you back later when you’re alone.”
“No,” Jeffery said. “He just went into the shower. I can talk.”
Evan rolled his eyes and took a quick breath. It was all so ca-
sual and comfortable for Jeffery. He actually felt good about what
he would tell Jeffery next. “Kenny’s English teacher asked me out
to dinner and I wanted to talk to you about it. This is the first time
something like this ever came up and I’m not sure how dating fits
in with our so-called open marriage.”
“As long as you don’t get emotionally involved, dating is fine,”
Jeffery said. “Is this the English teacher who has an ethnic name?
The one who looks like Sean Penn? Kenny’s mentioned him to me.
He said he met you and was drooling over you.”
“Carson Savione.”
“That’s the name,” Jeffery said. “He seems like a nice guy. I
met him at an open house while you were in Havilland. I had a
feeling he was gay, but wasn’t sure. He’s not my type at all. Way
too pushy and aggressive. But I don’t see any harm in you having
dinner with him.”
“I’m not asking for your permission, Jeffery,” Evan said. “I’m
asking about whether or not dating is part of an open marriage.”
He knew sex with other men was okay; he just wasn’t sure where
he was supposed to draw the lines.
“And I told you it was fine,” Jeffery said. “Do you want me
to spell it out for you in a goddamn text message?” His tone grew
stronger, the way it sounded right before he started shouting.
“There’s no need to snap at me,” Evan said. He’d learned to
speak up fast when Jeffery took this tone. There was a reason
they called Jeffery Charles “The Wall Street Shark” and Evan had
learned how to snap right back at him for his own survival.
Jeffery took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I
didn’t mean to sound that way. It’s just that it’s three hours earlier
here and I have a busy day. How did your lunch appointment go
with Billy on Friday?”
Billy was Evan’s literary agent. He would have forgotten to
mention this if Jeffery hadn’t asked him about it. “Okay,” he said.
“He wants me to sign a three-book deal for a new historical series
and I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I’d think about it and get back next week,” Evan said.
“The publisher wants all three books in the series written within a
year’s time and I’m not sure I can do that.”
Jeffery laughed. “You should do it. Don’t think about it. Just
sign the contract and start working. You know you’re always hap-
pier when you’re working.”
“How’s your business deal with this social media company do-
ing? I read about it online and it sounds both impressive and risky
at the same time,” Evan said. If this deal went through, Jeffery
would be the largest investor in one of the most popular forms of
social media to ever go public with stock. At least that’s how Evan
saw it.
“It’s interesting,” Jeffery said. “I have a feeling we’ll be chang-
ing the world if this happens.”
Evan had read there were pros and cons to this, and the more
conservative people on Wall Street were not certain social media
based purely on advertising revenue could hold up as a strong
investment. Only time would tell. But Evan trusted Jeffery’s judg-
ment more than he trusted anyone else’s. He’d made billions of
dollars taking risks that had been stronger than this. “I always
thought you would change the world. I knew it the moment I met
you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jeffery said.
Before Jeffery answered, Evan heard a deep voice say, “Are
you coming? I thought we were taking a shower together.”
It was evident the man Jeffery had slept with that night wanted
to take a shower, and Evan didn’t want to hear the details. “I’ll let
you go,” he said. “You sound busy.” Then he hung up before Jef-
fery could say, “I love you.”
A minute or two after he hung up, he phoned Carson Savione
and agreed to meet him for dinner at a place in Chelsea called
The Park with which he was familiar. Later that day when he
told Kenny he was going out on a date with Mr. Savione, Kenny
shrugged and told him to have a good time. When Evan asked if he
was certain it was okay to date his English teacher, Kenny reached
into the refrigerator for a bottle of water and said, “It’s cool, Dad.
Besides, he can’t compare to Dad. He’s not as smart, as rich, as
personable or as good looking. Have fun with him.”
At the time, Evan had been shocked at his blunt assessment of
his English teacher. “You make it sound as if I’m going out to din-
ner with the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
Kenny smiled and said, “I being honest. He’s a nice guy, but
he’s not Dad.”
The thing Kenny didn’t understand as a young straight man
was that Mr. Savione had an invisible sexual quality most gay men
would have found hard to ignore. Kenny was right about him not
being as smart, rich, personable, or as male-model handsome as
Jeffery. It was hard to find a man who could compete with Jeffery
in those areas. But Kenny missed the fact that Carson Savione
had a raw sex appeal that could usually be found in gay male porn
stars, and this had more to do with his imperfections. His nose was
a little too big, but by no means offensive. His ears stuck out a
little, but not in a way where people would have made jokes about
them. He had thin lips and a strong jaw, both of which gave him
the rugged Sean Penn look Jeffery had mentioned on the phone.
Though he kept his brown hair short, Evan had a feeling if he’d
let it grow longer it would have looked messy and wavy like Sean
Penn’s hair. But the thing about Carson Savione that Kenny had
missed the most was something Evan would never have admitted
aloud to his son. Evan had a feeling that Carson’s dick was one of
his best attributes. This feeling was instinctive and Evan was rarely
wrong when it came to these things. Although he’d never been a
size queen, he’d never refused a man because his dick was too big
either.
When Evan showed up at the restaurant on Tuesday night, he
had to walk through the huge open bar that resembled an atrium
to get to the back of the restaurant. This place was called The Park
because it had once been an indoor parking garage. He knew a
few people there by sight. As he walked past them with his fists
clenched, trying hard to fight the urge to get a drink, he said hello
and smiled as if nothing was wrong. They weren’t good friends;
just drinking acquaintances he’d met over the years. This was one
of those bars where gay and straight mingled together without giv-
ing it a second thought. It was also his first time in a bar since he’d
left Havilland. He could have met Carson at a restaurant where
alcohol wasn’t served, but Evan didn’t want to be one of those
alcoholics who avoided other people who drink. He wanted to be
an alcoholic who could avoid drinking altogether whether he was
in a room full of other drinkers or a room full of nuns sipping tea
and honey. For him, facing his fear of drinking took precedent over
avoiding it.
He found Carson at a table for two in a dark corner in the back.
The moment he saw Evan, he stood up and walked across the room
to meet him. Jeffery had been right about Carson’s aggressive ten-
dency. He put his hand on Evan’s back, gave him a push forward,
and said, “I hope you don’t mind. I already ordered drinks for us
both.”
Evan took one look at the beautiful ice-cold martini sitting on
the table and his chest caved in. For an instant, his mouth started
to water and he rationalized that having one small martini couldn’t
hurt him. Then he touched the rim of the martini glass and said,
“I’m sorry. I’m a recovered alcoholic and I don’t drink anymore.”
He figured honesty would work best this time. It didn’t make him
want the drink any less, and he still had to clench his teeth to keep
from reaching down and drinking the martini in one gulp, but at
least he’d said it and he knew there would be no turning back.
Carson pulled out his chair and said, “I’ll tell the waiter to get
rid of the drinks right now.”
Evan sat down and reached for a napkin. He spread the napkin
across his lap and put his martini on the other side of the table next
to Carson’s. “No, please don’t do that. Just because I don’t drink
doesn’t mean you can’t. I don’t mind at all.”
Carson smiled at him, then lifted his arm and gestured to a
waiter at the next table and said, “Please take these drinks away.
We’ll have coffee instead.”
When he sat down, Evan said, “Thank you. You didn’t have to
do that, but it was nice of you to do it.”
Carson stared at his lips and said, “I can live without drinking.
I’ve never been anything more than a social drinker. I can take it or
leave it. And I admire your honesty.”
After that, Carson seemed to take control of the entire evening.
He ordered for them, made sure Evan’s coffee cup was always
filled, and he even stood up and held Evan’s chair when Evan went
to the men’s room. While they ate they talked about Kenny, then
Evan’s new books. Evan told Carson he’d just signed a contract to
write three historical romance novels that he’d been debating. Then
Carson told Evan about how much he loved teaching, that he’d
always wanted to be a teacher, and that his only hobby was boxing.
He liked to ride horses, too. But boxing took up so much of his free
time he found it hard to find more free time for riding.
Evan said, “I’m not all that surprised you’re into boxing.”
Carson’s head tilted back. “Why not? Most people are. Let’s
face it, most people don’t think of gay guys and boxing at the same
time. And I’m an English teacher.”
“Most people are idiots,” Evan said. He sounded like Jeffery.
“They like to put gay men into little boxes, tie the boxes up with a
pink ribbon, and keep them in there. You have that hard, wiry kind
of body most boxers have. I don’t know anything about boxing
myself, but from what little I’ve seen I think you actually do look
like a boxer. ” He was picturing how he would look in a jock strap
and those cute little white ankle socks.
Carson looked into his eyes and said, “I think that might be the
nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”
Evan shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
“I have a match on Friday night,” Carson said. “It’s not profes-
sional boxing. It’s just an amateur match at a small gym I go to
downtown. But I’d like you to come and watch.”
Evan smiled. “I’d like that. I’ve never been to a real boxing
match. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Carson made a fist and fake punched Evan in the arm. “I’m
pretty good. At least I try to be, anyway.”
After dinner, Carson took care of the check and held Evan’s
chair while he stood up. Evan had tried to take the check, but
Carson had insisted on paying. Then Carson walked him to the
corner and hailed a cab for him. He didn’t make one single attempt
to take Evan back to his apartment, and he’d told Evan he lived
in Chelsea, not far from the restaurant. He didn’t put his hands in
any inappropriate places or touch Evan in a seductive way. When
the cab pulled up to the curb, he opened the back door and waited
until Evan sat down. Then he leaned forward, kissed Evan on the
cheek, and said, “I had a nice time. I’ll call you this week and let
you know where the boxing match is. I can’t get together with you
again until after the match because I’ll be in training for the next
few days. I actually shouldn’t have gone out tonight. I hope that’s
cool.”
Evan looked up at him and smiled. “It’s fine. I had a nice time,
too. Thanks for dinner.”
As he was about to close the back door, he stopped and leaned
forward. He made a fist again and fake punched Evan in the chin.
“I’ll see you on Friday.”
Chapter Eight
When Evan returned to his apartment that Tuesday night, he
found Kenny in the living room doing math homework and watch-
ing TV at the same time.
Kenny turned the minute he walked through the door and said,
“Sorry you had a bad time.”
Evan set his keys on the dining table and sent his son a side-
ways glance. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, it’s not even eleven o’clock and you’re home from a
date,” he said. “I guess it was pretty boring with old Savione. He’s
kind of like that sometimes. I swear I have to pinch myself some-
times in class when he’s reciting Shakespeare.”
Evan took off his coat and joined his son on the sofa. “Actu-
ally, I had a great time. Mr. Savione is not only interesting, he’s
very nice and there’s a lot more to him than you know about.” He
almost said Carson acted as the perfect gentleman, but he figured
that might make Kenny uncomfortable.
Kenny didn’t look up from his math book. He seemed disap-
pointed to hear Evan had enjoyed himself. “What do you mean?”
“He has an interesting hobby,” Evan said. “He’s an amateur
boxer.”
“Oh, I know about that,” Kenny said. “Everyone knows about
that. He’s on the Internet.”
Later that night, after Kenny had gone to bed, Evan Googled
“Amateur Boxing Carson Savione” on his laptop and he found a
few photos of Carson. He’d been modest during dinner. Evan dis-
covered he was fairly well known in amateur boxing circles and he
belonged to some kind of national boxing association that sounded
important. But Evan wasn’t interested in those details, at least
not at first. He found it more interesting to focus on the photos of
Carson wearing boxing gear. One photo in particular, with Carson
standing slightly hunched and braced for battle with boxing gloves,
showed him wearing adorable white boxing shorts and no shirt. It
looked as if the photo had been taken while he’d been jumping up
and down. His hair and chest were wet with perspiration, he was
wearing a mouth guard, and there was a bruise on his left cheek. It
was one of the sexiest photos Evan had ever seen.
But when Cadin stopped by on Wednesday afternoon and Evan
told him about Carson’s amateur boxing hobby, he threw his hands
in the air and screamed. “I can’t believe how you always seem to
attract them. It’s like you’re wearing an invisible sign on your back
or something.”
Evan felt a sting in his gut. “What are you talking about?” He
didn’t see anything wrong with Carson’s hobby. “What do you
mean ‘them’?”
“I thought you’d finally met a nice, calm stable guy,” Ca-
din said. He shook his head and frowned. “I thought a nice quiet
English teacher at a private school would be perfect for you. I’m
picturing a professor in a tweed jacket with half glasses on the end
of his nose and it turns out he’s a goddamn pugilist and he beats
people up for sport. Seriously, Evan. Think about it. You have a
tendency to go for the aggressive types who always leaves you
fucked up in the end. Jeffery’s not a boxer, but he’s just as aggres-
sive and just as vicious as a boxer. Only he wears a three-thousand-
dollar suit while he’d going for the throat. I think that if there were
one hundred men in one room and ninety-nine of them were calm,
even, and stable and just one was a rough prison type, you’d find
the rough prison type without even looking at the other guys.”
Although he knew his best friend had a point, Evan defended
Carson. “He is a nice, stable guy. He just happens to like boxing
as a sport. There’s nothing wrong with that.” It was hard to argue
this point, though. One reason why Evan had never had a problem
living in a rough neighborhood was because the thug types never
bothered him. They flirted with him, called him baby when he
walked past them, and often followed him down the street, trying
to get his attention. And they didn’t do it in a dangerous way. Evan
knew they wouldn’t hurt him. They really were attracted to him,
especially young men of African descent. Evan couldn’t help it if
calm, stable men weren’t attracted to him. He couldn’t help it if he
wasn’t attracted to them either.
“I hope you’re careful this time,” Cadin said. “I don’t like the
sound of this. I think you should play it really cool with this guy.
It sounds like you’re thinking about him the same way you think
about Jeffery and you know that’s never been realistic. The last
thing you need now is to get involved with another rough aggres-
sive type who wants to control your life.”
Evan laughed this time. “First, no one alive is more control-
ling than Jeffery, so I already know about that. It’s been my life.
Second, you shouldn’t judge people before you meet them. Carson
Savione really is just a nice quiet schoolteacher.” He didn’t men-
tion the fact that he’d been picturing Carson in nothing but a jock
strap since he’d left the restaurant.
On Thursday morning, Evan started his new book and wound
up writing more than four thousand words in less than five hours.
Where the words came from he didn’t know. It was the first time
he’d sat down in front of his computer to write anything in months.
And it was also the first time he’d done this without a bottle of
vodka by his side. When Kenny came home from football practice
at six, they went out to a quiet little burger place in the East Village
to celebrate.
While they were eating, Jeffery called from the West Coast. “I
just wanted to let you know I’m flying in tomorrow afternoon. I’ll
let you know when the plane lands.”
He’d called Evan’s cell phone. They hadn’t spoken in two
days, which was unusual for them. Evan had been busy with his
new book and he figured Jeffery had been busy working on this
huge business deal with the so-called social media giant. “Okay.
That sounds good. Say hello to your son. We’re having dinner in a
restaurant right now and he’s sitting across the table from me.”
Evan handed the phone to Kenny and he heard his son say,
“Hey, Dad.” Then it seemed as if Kenny sat there listening and
nodding, occasionally offerering a yes or a no to questions Jeffery
was asking him that he didn’t want Evan to hear.
When Kenny said goodbye and handed the phone back to
Evan, he smiled and said, “Have a safe flight, and call me when
you land.”
Jeffery said, “I will. I love you.”
Evan glanced at his son and said, “I love you, too. Call me.”
When he hung up, he glanced cross the table and asked, “What
was he asking you?”
Kenny stared down at his plate and shrugged. “Nothing impor-
tant.”
“He wanted to know if I was drinking again,” Evan said.
Kenny shrugged again. It was obvious he wanted to avoid this
conversation. “He asked. I said no.”
There were times Evan thought it would be easier to get infor-
mation out of a CIA agent than from a teenage boy. “I don’t mind.
I wish you would talk about it openly in front of me. I can handle it
and I don’t want you all thinking I’m going to fall apart just be-
cause you’re being honest.”
“What do you want from me?” Kenny asked. “Maybe I should
ask you, ‘Hey there, you drunk, had any shots today?’ when I come
home from school every day.”
Evan laughed. He didn’t take offense to this. “Okay. I’m sorry.
I guess I forget it’s not easy for you either. I’ll try to remember
that. But please don’t feel as if you have to walk around on your
tiptoes with me. I’m really doing okay now. I’ve started working
again, I’m thrilled to have my kid living with me full time, and I’m
really looking forward to the boxing match tomorrow night. I’ve
never been to one before.”
When he mentioned the boxing match, Kenny rolled his eyes.
“Did your dad ask about Mr. Savione?” Evan asked. He found
it interesting that Jeffery hadn’t called to see how his date with
Carson had gone. He knew Jeffery hadn’t forgotten. The man could
listen to ten different conversations at one time and repeat each one
verbatim an hour later.
“Yes, he asked,” Kenny said.
“Well, what did he say?”
“He asked if you were seeing him again and I said you were,”
Kenny said. “That was it. You were sitting right here.”
He could see his son was getting frustrated. He knew he had
to lighten the mood so he smiled and said, “I think I might take up
boxing as a hobby, too. Carson said I could join his gym and work
out like boxers train.”
Kenny dropped his fork and started laughing so hard he almost
choked on a French fry. Although Evan wasn’t effeminate, he’d
always been gentle and quiet and passive. Anyone who knew him
well knew he avoided confrontation at all cost. The thought of him
putting on boxing gloves and beating up another guy must have
sounded ludicrous to his son. Evan wouldn’t even kill a bug, let
alone hit another human being. Kenny held one hand to his stom-
ach and pointed at Evan with the other. He laughed so hard he had
trouble speaking. “I want ringside seats to that one.”
* * * *On Friday night, Kenny went to the movies with a few
friends. He was sleeping over a friend’s house that night and he
promised Evan he’d call him a few times to let him know where
he was. Evan had learned through experience this meant he would
call him once, not a few times. But at least he had a teenager who
phoned to check in. He knew some parents who didn’t.
Evan had asked Kenny to come downtown with him to watch
Carson’s boxing match, but Kenny had rolled his eyes and said, “I
think I’d rather eat a bowl of worms and diced scrotum than watch
my English teacher, who happens to be dating my dad, box while
my dad cheers him on.”
Evan had said, “It’s not like I’m bringing pompons along. I’m
just going to watch an amateur boxing match. Stop being so dra-
matic.”
“What do you know about boxing?” Kenny had asked.
As Evan stood there in silence, trying to come up with a reply,
he shrugged and said, “I can learn, can’t I?”
Kenny kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ll call you when
I’m at Zack’s house so you know I’m in for the night. If you need
me, I’ll have the phone on all the time.”
“I’ll be fine,” Evan said. He wished his friends and family
would stop treating him as if he needed to be watched round the
clock. “I’m not going to drink.”
An hour after that, Evan’s cab pulled up to a small gym on
Delancey Street and dropped Evan off. It was a neighborhood with
which he wasn’t familiar. When Evan climbed out of the backseat
and glanced up, he saw two men walking down the street, pushing
a child in a wheelchair. He knew they were gay; he could tell by
looking at them. He felt more comfortable seeing two gay men for
reasons he couldn’t explain. He heard one of them call the other
one Jonah and say, “I think we should spend the night here instead
of driving all the way back to D.C. tonight. I’ll call Bobby’s mom
when we get home.” The one named Jonah nodded in agreement
and said, “I’m fine with that,” and he looked down at the kid in the
wheelchair and said, “We’ll watch that movie you like so much,
Bobby.” When he lifted his head, he glanced at Evan in passing
and smiled as if he’d just read Evan’s mind.
The gym on Delancey Street looked more like an old storefront
huddled between a barbershop and a bakery. There was a group of
young guys gathered near the front door, smoking cigarettes and
bouncing a basketball. Evan was glad he’d dressed casually that
night. In his blue hoodie, jeans, and black work boots he could
have joined the young guys and fit in perfectly.
When he entered the gym, he felt like turning around and going
back home. There didn’t seem to be any gay people in there. He
wondered if maybe his son and his best friend had been right about
him dating a boxer. It all started to seem so bizarre to him. The
only thing he knew about boxing was that guys put on cute outfits
and punched each other around. They got all sweaty and people
poured bottles of water over their heads to cool them down. The
only boxing movie he’d ever seen had been Rocky, and he’d fallen
asleep halfway through it. He figured this was a mistake. He could
turn around and leave and he could call Carson and tell him some-
thing came up and he couldn’t make it. They didn’t know each
other that well and neither of them was obligated to each other in
any way.
But as he turned to leave, a large stocky man with silver hair
grabbed his arm and said, “Are you Evan Littlefield?” He could
have been in his early sixties.
Evan’s eyes opened wider. “Yes.”
The older man gestured to the back of the gym and said, “The
Dog told me to bring you back to the locker room when you ar-
rived.” He was missing a front tooth and he spoke with a thick
Brooklyn accent. “I’m his trainer.”
“The Dog?”
“Yeah, Savione,” the guy said. “He told me to bring you back
to the locker room.”
The next thing Evan knew, he was following the overweight
man through a long narrow gym where a makeshift boxing ring
had been set up surrounded by rows of folding chairs. There were
a few guys lifting weights in one corner, and a few people had
already taken seats around the ring. Though the cinderblock walls
and the concrete floor had been painted gray, and there didn’t seem
to be any windows in sight, Evan noticed the harsh overhead fluo-
rescent lights made the place brighter than he’d expected it to be.
While the man led him past two burly guys with thick stubble
and hairy legs, Evan tripped over a brick that was holding the
locker room door open and one of the guys caught him before he
fell flat on his face. The guy grabbed him by the waist and said,
“Are you okay?”
Evan glanced up and took a quick breath. He had one hand on
the guy’s chest and the other on his shoulder. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
But he felt his face getting hot and he wanted to turn around and
run back out to the street.
But the older man led him through the main locker room,
where a few guys were walking to and from the showers. One
good-looking guy with dark hair and a goatee wore nothing but
a towel so low on his waist Evan saw his pubic hair. Two other
guys stood near a broken wooden bench wearing nothing but jock
straps and talked about bench pressing. Evan shoved his hands
into his pockets and stared down at the floor when a naked young
guy holding a towel and a plastic soap container loped toward the
showers in his bare feet. His thick flaccid dick bounced around in
such an obvious way Evan was terrified to look at anything but the
floor.
This boxing gym wasn’t anything like the high-end commercial
gym he went to when he lifted weights, where there were expen-
sive slate floors, luxurious steam rooms, potted palm trees, and
fresh clean white towels stacked on shiny stainless steel shelves.
Evan didn’t see a juice bar or a spin class room. No one got pam-
pered here. This gym with concrete floors and cinderblock walls
brought him back to his high school days, where he’d been afraid
to take off his pants for fear he’d get an erection surrounded by all
those other naked guys.
The smell of jock sweat, rubber, and damp towels also brought
back all his old insecurities about being around so many wet, na-
ked men. There was nothing sexual about it, not in the least. It was
pure fear of being exposed—or rather, the association of what he’d
experienced in high school during gym class. Even though he’d
been out of the closet for years, he felt a pull in his stomach at the
sound of deep hollow male voices talking about guy stuff min-
gling with the harsh sound of running water from the showers. The
steam alone made him want to gag.
He found Carson at the back of the gym in a small room with
a few lockers, a sink, and a high metal table that reminded Evan
of an examination table in a doctor’s office. Carson was sitting
on the table and two other guys were getting him ready for the
match. He was wearing loose white boxing shorts with navy blue
sports stripes down the sides, a sexy pair of red athletic shoes that
came up to his ankles, and some type of thick blue wrist bands.
He looked nothing like the conservative teacher Evan had met at
Kenny’s school. He looked nothing like the nice quiet guy he’d had
dinner with in Chelsea. In this boxing gear, he looked like all the
other guys walking around in that gym and no one would ever have
guessed he was gay.
When Carson saw him enter, he smiled and made a fist. “Hey,
you’re really here.”
The heavyset man with silver hair left the room and the other
two continued to help Carson put on his red boxing gloves.
Evan smiled and said, “I told you’d I’d be here. Why wouldn’t
I come?”
Carson shrugged and laughed. “I had this deep down feeling
you might not be interested in boxing and that you were being
polite when I invited you.”
Evan smiled again. “I don’t know shit about boxing, but that
doesn’t mean I can’t learn. Besides, I’m curious.” He chose his
words with care, because he wasn’t sure if the other two guys knew
Carson was gay. This came naturally, as it comes so naturally to all
gay men when they are placed in situations with straight men.
When Carson’s gloves were on and he was ready to step into
the ring, he asked the other guys to leave so he could have a mo-
ment alone with Evan. His exact words were, “I need to talk to my
buddy for a minute,” which meant he didn’t want them to know he
was dating Evan—or he didn’t feel the need to admit it.
Evan had been sitting on a small chair in the corner of the room
watching them prep him for the fight. Although he didn’t have a
clue as to what they were doing or what was happening, he smiled
and pretended he’d been watching men get ready to fight all his
life.
The moment they were alone Carson hopped off the metal table
and said, “Can I give you a hug for good luck?”
“Is it safe?”
“Most of the guys know I’m gay,” Carson said. “And I don’t
give a damn anyway at this point in my life.”
Evan stood up and crossed to where he was standing. He
glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Then
he put his arms around Carson’s shoulders, kissed him on the lips,
and said, “This is more exciting than I thought it would be. I’m
glad I came.” Carson had put his arms around Evan and he could
feel the red boxing gloves pressed against his back.
“I’m glad you came,” Carson said. “I reserved a ringside seat
for you.”
Evan almost laughed. He never would have guessed anyone
would have reserved a ringside seat for him in a place like this.
But he knew they couldn’t remain this way for a long time, so he
stepped back and said, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“What do you guys wear under your shorts?”
Carson sent him a seductive smile. “Why don’t you see for
yourself?” He moved his hips forward and said, “Take a look.”
Evan hesitated for a second, then reached out and pulled the
waistband on Carson’s boxing shorts. When he glanced down into
Carson’s shorts, he saw something that looked like a black jock
strap, but it was thicker and padded. “I’ve never seen one of those
before.” He reached into his shorts and grabbed it to see if it felt as
soft as it looked.
“It’s a groin protector,” Carson said.
Evan gently released Carson’s waistband and patted his crotch.
“I’m glad you’re wearing it, because I wouldn’t want anything bad
to happen to such a nice groin.”
After that, Carson asked his trainer to take Evan out to his seat
where he could wait for the match to begin. The room had filled
up by then and he found himself in a crowd of people murmuring
their expectations. Some were cheering for “The Dog,” which was
Carson. Others were cheering for someone they referred to as “Ice
Man.” Though Evan had no idea what any of them were talking
about, he picked up a few things that were helpful. He learned the
man they called the referee seemed to be the judge and he decided
what worked and what didn’t while The Dog and Ice Man were
fighting. And they fought in rounds, which he figured were inter-
vals between fighting sessions. In his mind, with his limited knowl-
edge of boxing, it all seemed so uncomplicated he sat back, crossed
his legs, and waited for the fight to begin. He wished he’d thought
ahead to bring a snack. He hadn’t eaten anything all day.
But when the match started and he saw how hard Carson had
to fight to compete against the guy they called Ice Man, he started
shouting and screaming along with everyone else. This Ice guy was
huge and mean-looking, with a big round bald head, massive feet
stuffed into blue ankle high athletic shoes, and a long hook nose.
His eyebrows pointed down in a natural way that made Evan won-
der if they ever went up, and his small beady eyes were set closely
together. Every time he threw a punch at Carson, Evan’s heart
stopped beating and he felt a pull between his legs.
By the twelfth round, Carson’s lip was bleeding, his body
drenched in sweat, and he wasn’t hopping around with the same
energy with which he’d started the match. He was swaggering now,
as if forcing himself to remain on his feet. In the same respect, Car-
son had thrown a few good punches of his own and the big ugly
Ice Man wasn’t bouncing around as much anymore either. At that
point, Evan just wanted it to be over. He didn’t care who won. He
felt like running up to the ring, jumping over the ropes, and kicking
the Ice Man in the nuts.
He almost got into a fistfight himself during the last round.
Carson made a move and the referee made each fighter go back to
his corner for a moment. Evan had no idea what had happened or
why the referee had done this. But he overheard the woman next to
him turn to the man next to her say, “That fucking Dog is a fucking
waste. Ice Man’s gonna kill him.” She dropped her g’s. She was a
big one, too, with bleached frizzy mullet and a hot pink sweatsuit.
She also looked as if she’d seen the inside of one too many tanning
beds.
Evan gave her a good shove with his elbow that almost
knocked her off her army boots.
She grabbed him by the collar and said, “What the fuck?”
He pushed her back and said, “It was an accident. Calm down,
asshole.”
“Who you callin’ asshole, asshole?” she shouted.
He wanted to grab her by the back of the head and drag her
into the ring, but Carson and the Ice Man started fighting again and
Evan and the woman both forgot why they were arguing. This time
it didn’t last long. When Carson started to sway back and forth,
Evan had a bad feeling. The Ice Man had thrown the last punch and
it seemed to have knocked poor Carson senseless. The woman next
to Evan screamed, “Kill’em, Ice man,” and Evan flung her a look.
Then the Ice man lifted his arm again and tried to swing. But at the
final moment, when no one expected it, Carson dodged the punch,
turned around, and threw his own punch. He hit the Ice Man square
on the jaw and knocked him down for the count.
When the fight was over and Carson was declared the winner,
Carson’s trainer came over to Evan and said, “He told me to tell
you to wait out here for him. He said he wouldn’t be long.”
Evan had been biting the inside of his mouth the entire time.
He wanted to see how Carson was after such a brutal match. But he
didn’t want to overstep. He nodded and said, “Tell him I’ll be out
front waiting near the door.”
An hour later, Evan glanced up from a game he’d been play-
ing on his phone and he saw Carson coming toward him. Evan
had been in the front room of the gym, in a section that looked like
a waiting area with a couple of folding chairs, a metal desk, and
more grey cinderblock walls. Carson was alone, carrying a gym
bag, and his face was swollen. They’d put a small Band-Aid at the
corner of his lip and he wasn’t bleeding anymore. Evan stood up
and met him halfway.
“Are you okay?” Evan asked. He actually looked better than
Evan had thought he would look after that brutal display. If Evan
had been up there in the ring with that Ice Man, he would have
been in the emergency room now begging for pain killers.
Carson tried to smile, but he couldn’t because of the Band-Aid.
“I’m good. Thanks for waiting so long. They had to patch a few
things up back there.” He laughed and made a joke out of it.
At a closer glance, Evan could see his swollen eye. “You poor
thing.”
“I won,” Carson said. He didn’t seem concerned about his eye.
“I know, but look at you.”
Carson waved him off. “This is nothing. I’ve been in worse
shape. I actually feel good. Let’s go out and do something. You
probably didn’t eat yet.”
Evan took his arm and said, “Oh no. I’m taking you back home
right now. You need to soak in a hot tub and put some ice on that
eye to get the swelling down.” He thought it was nice that Carson
wanted to go out, but there was no way he’d take him out in that
condition. The man needed rest.
As Evan led him out the front door, Carson didn’t object and
he didn’t pursue going out. This time Carson let Evan escort him
to the corner, hail a cab, and help him into the backseat. When
the driver pulled away from the curb, Evan’s phone rang. It was
Kenny. He’d called to tell him he was at Zack’s house for the night
and he would be home around noon the next day. When he asked
how Evan’s evening at the fights had been, Evan smiled and said,
“It was amazing. He won. You should have seen the big guy he
beat up, too. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Kenny didn’t sound all that impressed; he didn’t ask Evan
where he was, either. He hesitated for a moment, sighed aloud, and
said, “I’ll see you in the morning, Dad. Love you.”
Chapter Eight
When the taxi dropped them off in front of Carson’s loft in
Chelsea, Carson climbed out of the backseat and pretended he
was fine. But Evan had learned to watch expressions closely. As a
writer, he kept notes on various expressions so he could use them
in his historical novels. One thing about fiction he’d learned was
that when people were in pain, they’d made the same expressions
in 1815 as they made in 2012. And that night Carson’s face had a
pinched, twisted look, as if each step he took toward his building
caused him pain. When he tried to smile, he squinted and clenched
his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
Evan knew Carson was trying to be brave, and he didn’t want
to diminish his ego. So he quietly played along with Carson and
offered small suggestions without letting Carson know he knew he
was in pain. He held the elevator open for him, but he didn’t help
him get inside. On the way up, Evan mentioned again how thrilled
he’d been to see Carson win the fight. When they reached the door
to Carson’s loft and Evan saw he was having trouble lifting his
arm to get his hand into his pocket for the keys, Evan sent him a
seductive smile and he put his hand in Carson’s pocket before he
had a chance to object. In other words, he made it appear he was
flirting instead of helping. He did this on purpose because he’d had
years of experience dealing with men who had inflated egos and
too much pride. Whether or not Carson knew he was doing this he
would never know. But he suspected Carson didn’t have a clue.
Men with huge egos usually didn’t.
The loft was one vast open-concept space with exposed brick
walls and a modern kitchen that had glass cabinets, concrete coun-
ters, and one of those huge complicated faucets that had always re-
minded Evan of an instrument in a doctor’s office. The floors were
stained concrete and all the pipes, wires, and duct work had been
left exposed. Evan preferred less open-concept and more private,
individual rooms. He didn’t mind seeing the kitchen during a din-
ner party but he didn’t like sleeping in a bedroom that overlooked
the living room.
Carson gestured to the living room area and told Evan to have
a seat on one of his brown leather sofas. “Can I get you coffee? We
can order out, too. I’m not much of a cook.”
Evan walked over to him and reached for his arm. He rubbed it
gently and said, “I have a better idea. We can eat later. I don’t like
to cook either.” Then he took Carson by the hand and led him to
the other end of the loft where he found a large bathroom that had
been sectioned off with partial sliding walls made of rice paper and
wood.
“What are you up to?” Carson asked.
Evan glanced to his left and saw a large sunken bathtub that
had been tiled in white marble. “You’re going to take a nice hot
bath and relax. After what you’ve been through tonight, you need
to be pampered a little.” This was one of Evan’s nicest, yet worst,
faults. He actually liked to pamper the men in his life and he didn’t
even know why. He’d never been subservient in other areas of his
life, just with the men he cared about. It was one of the reasons
he’d always let Jeffery get away with so much. Unfortunately, the
men in his life had always taken advantage of this.
“Normally I would argue with you,” Carson said. “I hate baths.
I prefer showers. I haven’t used that tub in a year. But to be honest,
I am a little sore.”
Evan smiled and crossed to the tub without replying. There
was a large shower on the other side of the bathroom with more
white marble that could have accommodated five people with room
to spare. But he thought a bath would be nicer. He’d never met a
man yet who didn’t like to be pampered and bathed, with gentle
strokes and soothing rubs. The bigger the ego, the more babying
they liked. He also knew Carson was more than a little sore, but he
didn’t want Carson to know he knew this. While the tub filled with
hot water, Evan turned down the lights, lit a few candles Carson
had placed around the perimeter of the tub, and gathered a couple
of clean towels from a stainless steel shelf. He poured a generous
amount of body wash into the tub so there would be bubbles.
While Evan had been drawing his bath, Carson had gone into
the bedroom to remove his clothes. When he returned wearing
nothing but white boxer briefs, he sent Evan a glance and asked,
“Aren’t you going to join me?”
Evan hadn’t removed his clothes. He was kneeling beside the
tub, checking the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. He looked
up and smiled. “No, I’m not joining you. This is for you to re-
lax, not to get worked up all over again.” He noticed the bulge in
Carson’s briefs. It rounded out in such an obvious way he couldn’t
help but notice it. He also noticed Carson’s lean wiry body again.
He had some hair on his legs, but not much. His muscles stretched
more than they bulged. Even though his knees leaned toward be-
ing knobby and his legs slightly bowed, every inch of him was
masculine in an athletic way Evan had always found hard to resist
in a man. Without shoes, his feet even seemed a little too big for
his body. None of this bothered Evan. The only physical traits in
men that had ever turned Evan off were soft white-pink skin, weak
features, tiny hands, and small feet.
Carson frowned and said, “I think it would be nicer if you took
off your clothes, too.”
Evan stood up and laughed. He’d already planned to take off
all his clothes and get into the tub with him. But not this soon. He
walked up to him and reached for the waistband of his briefs and
said, “I told you. This is just for you, not me.” Then he gently low-
ered Carson’s briefs, went down on his knees, and helped Carson
step out of them.
Before Evan stood up, he took a quick glance between Car-
son’s legs and held his breath for a moment. His dick hung semi-
erect and seemed to be growing slowly without a hint of encour-
agement. Oh, those poor sexless spinster types who ran from big
dick and weeping cock would have been clutching their proverbial
pearls and swooning in agony. The psychologically damaged
types who liked to objectify gay men, turning them into effemi-
nate quasi-women by making them dickless creatures of the worst
kind, would have been thoroughly repulsed. It was thick at the base
and narrowed slightly toward the head: the kind of dick Evan had
always liked most—the kind of dick no gay man alive would ever
reject. It wasn’t quite as big as Jeffery’s, but it wasn’t what anyone
would ever consider small. He wanted to reach for it; he wanted to
worship it. He didn’t want to just suck it; he wanted to swing from
it. But it was still too soon.
When he stood up, Carson put his arms around him and kissed
him. Carson ran his hands up and down his back and rested them
on his ass. “Come on. Let’s get into the tub together.”
Evan stepped back and reached for his hand. He led him to
the tub and said, “I really want to do this. It’s not every day a guy
gets to bathe a hot amateur boxer, especially one he just saw win a
fight. Indulge me in a small fantasy this once.”
So Carson climbed into the tub and sank down in the hot water
with a sigh. “Oh, this really does feel good.” He rested his head
back against the rounded edge and closed his eyes. “I guess I am a
little more bruised than I realized.”
Evan reached for a wash cloth and kneeled down next to the
tub. “You poor thing,” he said. “Just close your eyes and I’ll make
you feel better.”
Evan spent a long time gently wiping the bruises on Carson’s
face. In this light, he reminded him even more of a young Sean
Penn. Carson’s eyes remained closed the entire time. The only
sounds he made were sighs of relief each time Evan touched his
skin with his bare hands.
When Evan finished with his face and neck, he slowly rubbed
his chest and his arms with the cloth. He took a long time washing
under Carson’s arms, and even longer massaging his fingers. When
he rubbed his stomach, he set the washcloth aside and only used
his fingers. Carson’s eyes remained closed, but his lips had parted
by then.
After Evan finished massaging Carson’s stomach, he skipped
over his groin area and moved right down to his legs and feet. Car-
son seemed to enjoy having his feet massaged the most. He even
moaned softly when Evan held his foot in his hands and rubbed his
toes. He lingered there for the longest time, taking equal turns on
each foot.
Then his hands moved slowly up Carson’s legs, massaging
each muscle one last time before he reached Carson’s most sensi-
tive spot, the spot he couldn’t wait to begin rubbing. When he fi-
nally did reach Carson’s groin, he gently held his balls in one hand
and his dick in the other. Carson had been fully erect since he’d
entered the tub. Evan knew by the way Carson had reacted to his
light strokes everywhere else that he would respond better to light
strokes between his legs.
“How is that?” Carson said in a soft whisper. He was squeezing
and stroking him with both hands.
“Awesome,” Carson said. “And if you knew me, you’d know
I hate that word. I’m an English teacher. I can’t believe I used that
word right now. But that’s the best way to describe it.”
Evan ran his thumb across his shaft slowly and said, “I think I
might join you after all.”
Carson opened his eyes and smiled. “There are condoms in the
drawer under the sink.”
Evan laughed. “Aren’t you being presumptuous now?”
Carson sent him a look. “I’m being honest.”
Evan squeezed him one last time, and then he dried his hands
on the towel and stood up. He knew Carson was watching him. He
walked slowly on purpose. He opened the drawer and saw con-
doms and a tube of lubricant. He hesitated for a moment before he
reached into the drawer. This was different from other times. Car-
son wasn’t just another trick. He was a man Evan could get serious
about and he knew this. He really liked him. He didn’t love him
the way he loved Jeffery. But he liked him and didn’t feel awkward
about it.
Even if he’d had reservations about sleeping with Carson,
he’d already gone too far and he couldn’t stop now. He wanted
to do this, partly because it wasn’t just anonymous sex like he’d
had with the delivery guy and partly because he hadn’t been this
attracted to another man since he’d met Jeffery. He’d always been
sexually attracted to men like the delivery man, but there hadn’t
been any emotion. With Carson he started to feel there might be
hope for having an emotional, monogamous relationship after all.
So he reached into the drawer for the condoms and lube and
set them on the counter. While Carson watched, he removed his
clothes slowly and left them on the floor. He’d always been proud
of his body and he knew men liked to watch him undress as much
as he enjoyed being watched. Though he didn’t have the lean wiry
body of a boxer, he did have smooth soft legs he shaved regularly,
a naturally hairless chest he’d built up by going to the gym a few
times a week, and a plush round ass that he made sure remained
firm by running four times a week. Although he’d lost a lot of
weight at Havilland, the one place where he hadn’t lost weight was
in his ass.
Before he joined Carson in the tub, he opened the tube of
lubricant and turned around to face the mirror. He knew he would
be getting fucked that night and he wanted to lube himself up for
Carson before he got into the tub. So he lifted one leg up and rested
it on the counter, with his legs spread and his ass facing Carson.
Then he greased his fingers with lube and slowly reached around.
While Carson watched, he arched his back and inserted two fingers
into his ass with generous amounts of lube. By the time he was
finished, he glanced over his shoulder and found Carson leaning
forward, with one hand holding the side of the tub and the other
stroking his dick in the water.
A minute later, Carson took his hand and he helped him into
the tub. As the candle flames flickered, he straddled Carson’s waist
and reached around to cover him with the condom. Then he spread
his legs wider and leaned forward to hold Carson’s shoulders.
Carson took his own dick and guided it as Evan slowly sat down
on it. He felt some pain at first; he closed his eyes and squeezed
Carson’s shoulders harder, waiting for it to pass. But the deeper
Carson went, the less he needed to hold onto Carson. By the time
it was all the way inside, Evan released Carson’s shoulders and sat
up straight. He arched his back and ran his hands up and down his
own torso, grinding his hips in slow circles. For a moment, he lost
himself so completely in this position that he jerked a little when
Carson grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him for-
ward.
They started to kiss and he put his arms around Carson’s shoul-
ders as Carson held his waist. While he slowly rode Carson’s dick,
their mouths locked and bath water splashed over the side of the
tub. At one point, as Carson bucked his hips, Evan licked Carson’s
ear and asked, “Are you more relaxed now?”
Carson rubbed his ass and said, “I’m in heaven.”
Evan laughed and said, “It really is amazing. I’m glad you
wore that groin protector tonight when you went into the ring,
because I’d hate to see anything happen down there. That would be
a shame.”
Carson laughed. “You’re fascinated with my groin protector,
aren’t you?”
Evan shrugged. “I’ve never seen one before. I think it’s sexy.”
Carson grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his hair
in a playful way. “I’ll rub your face in it later tonight.”
When they tried to change positions, the water started splash-
ing too much so Carson opened the drain and forced Evan over the
side of the tub. The water had become cold anyway, and Carson
seemed ready for another round, so to speak. Carson wound up
fucking him over the side of the tub, then on the floor next to the
tub, and finally over the toilet bowl.
It didn’t end in the bathroom. Evan submitted and Carson took
complete control. He fucked him in the living area on a brown
leather sofa, then on top of the concrete center island in the kitch-
en. They wound up outside on Carson’s terrace overlooking Ninth
Avenue with Evan’s head hanging over the railing while Carson
fucked him from behind. Although the slaps against Evan’s ass
were loud enough to be heard on the other terraces that surrounded
them, Carson didn’t seem to care one way or the other. He seemed
to have reached that point where there was no turning back and
Evan didn’t want to stop him.
They both came together, without screams or moans or grunts.
Carson went in as deep as he could, he remained dead still, and
Evan rubbed his own dick a few times. Even though it was quiet,
it was such an intense orgasm for them both they remained locked
together this way for a minute or two longer than most people
would have. A horn honked on the street below them and Carson
leaned forward to kiss Evan’s back. Then he asked, “Are you cold
out here?”
Evan sent him a backward glance and said, “I’m okay, but
thanks for asking. I think that’s nice.” It was the first time he’d
been with a man who seemed to care about his well being. Jeffery
wouldn’t have asked if he was cold; the humpy delivery man with
the big dick would have cared even less. They would have fucked
him, pulled out, and left him there standing in the cold.
Carson bent down and wrapped his arms around Evan’s body.
“I hate to let go. Can you spend the night here?”
It would have been nice to spend the night. But Evan said, “I
have to get home. Kenny’s spending the night with a friend from
school, but I don’t want him to walk in tomorrow and find the
apartment empty.”
“You can leave early in the morning.”
“I can’t take that chance,” Evan said. “If he came home early
and I wasn’t there, he’d know I spent the night with you. He’s hav-
ing a little trouble with me dating his teacher. I don’t want to make
it worse.”
“He thinks I’m boning you?”
Evan laughed. He knew Carson was joking around. “Not yet,
and I don’t want him to think I’m getting boned by his teacher…
or anyone.” Evan had always walked a straight line in this respect.
Having a straight teenage son had its advantages, but he didn’t
want his son to think he liked dick too much.
“But I am boning you,” Carson said. He pushed harder and his
dick went deeper. “Can’t you feel it?” He slapped him and laughed.
Evan shrugged. “Oh, I can feel it. But I really do have to go
home and you have to pull that bone out right now. I’m not sure
I’m ready to spend the night with anyone. You know I’m married.”
“But you have an open relationship,” Carson said.
“As far as sex goes,” Evan said. “When it comes to getting
emotionally involved with another man, that’s completely differ-
ent.”
“Who said we’re getting emotionally involved?” Carson asked.
“Now you’re being presumptuous. For all you know this could just
be good old-fashioned boning.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he said. “It’s just this is the first time
I’ve ever dated anyone in this so-called open marriage thing Jef-
fery wanted.”
Either Carson didn’t want to know more about Evan’s rela-
tionship with Jeffery, or he didn’t care. He pulled out slowly and
rubbed Evan’s ass. “Let’s shower, get dressed, and get something
to eat. I’m starved and I know you haven’t eaten. Then I’ll take
you home.”
Evan stood up and kissed Carson on the lips. “You don’t have
to do that. I can get around in this city blindfolded. Trust me, when
I was drinking I did get around blindfolded half the time.”
“I want to do it,” Carson said. “I had a good time tonight. And
there’s nothing emotional about that. It’s just the right thing for a
guy to do for someone he just boned.”
Evan laughed louder that time. “Since you put it that way, I
guess it’s okay.”
Though Evan felt awkward about Carson taking him home, he
didn’t argue the point. He let Carson take him by the hand and lead
him back to the bathroom. It was nice for a change to be treated
with that rare kind of concern. For Evan it was a novelty and he
couldn’t help but wonder what his doctor at Havilland would have
thought if he could see him now. Jeffery had always been there to
offer him anything he wanted in a material sense, but he’d never
been there to offer his time. And that had always been the one of
the things that Evan had needed the most.
Chapter Nine
Evan woke up early on Saturday morning and he took a long
hot bath. He’d planned to go out for a three-mile run in the East
Village. The blue sky and slightly warmer weather would have
made it a perfect morning for running. But his legs were so sore
from having sex with Carson the night before he decided to give
his body a rest. After all, it wasn’t every day he suffered from sex
injuries. Of course they weren’t serious, and he wasn’t upset about
them in the least. It was just that he hadn’t had sex injuries in a
while and he wanted to quietly enjoy them, and remember the time
he’d spent with Carson before Kenny came home from Zack’s
house.
While Evan was in the tub soaking, with his head back, his
eyes closed, and his hand on his dick, Kenny stormed into the
apartment and slammed the front door. Evan had been thinking
about how sexy Carson had looked in the locker room, sitting on
the metal table, right before he’d gone into the ring to fight. There
was something about a real jock that filled Evan with a sense of
well being that he would never have admitted aloud to anyone.
Then Kenny pounded on the bathroom door and said, “Dad,
have you seen the news this morning? You’re going to love this.”
Evan released his dick and sat up in the tub. He’d locked the
door; force of habit. “What are you doing home so early? I didn’t
expect you until noon.” It was a good thing Evan hadn’t spent the
night with Carson.
“I couldn’t stay there,” Kenny said. “It was too embarrassing.
Seriously, Dad. ”
This made no sense. “What was embarrassing? What are you
talking about?” At first he thought this was just more of Kenny’s
teenage drama.
“You obviously haven’t seen the news,” Kenny said.
Evan detected a hint of desperation in his son’s tone, so he
stood up and said, “Give me a minute. Go make a pot of coffee and
I’ll be right out. I’m in the tub.”
While he dried himself off, he glanced at the back of his legs
in a full-length mirror on the bathroom door and smiled. There
were a few black and blue marks from last night and he didn’t want
Kenny to see them. So he put on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt
he’d been planning to dump in the hamper instead of the short robe
he usually wore after a shower or bath. He didn’t rush; he even
took time to comb his hair and shave. He knew from experience
his teenage son tended to exaggerate the smallest incident and this
drama was probably nothing important. Kenny could turn a pimple
on the end of his nose into a goiter that rivaled an avalanche.
When he stepped out of the bathroom he found Kenny in the
living room with his eyes fixed on the TV. Evan smiled, sat down
on a chair opposite the sofa in front of a fresh mug of black coffee,
and asked, “So what’s wrong?” He figured Zack and Evan had had
an argument. They’d argued before over the same girl; he had a
feeling it had happened once again.
Kenny was leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees and
a mug of coffee in his hands. He stared at the TV and said, “That’s
what’s wrong.”
Evan picked up the coffee and turned to the TV. At the exact
moment he went to take a sip he saw Jeffery’s face on the screen
and the coffee went up his nose. He started to choke and Kenny
came over to pat his back. Though he couldn’t hear what was hap-
pening because he was choking, he saw Jeffery’s face and the word
“scandal” on the TV screen.
When he finally caught his breath, he pointed to the TV and
said, “Turn up the volume. What’s going on? Is your dad okay?
Was there an accident?” His entire body filled with panic. At first
he thought something might have happened to Jeffery. Although
Jeffery was talked about in the media, he wasn’t one of those high-
profile celebrities who were hounded by reporters and paparazzi
twenty-four hours a day. When people like Jeffery, famous for
making billions of dollars, made headlines, there was usually a
valid reason for it.
And that reason almost always tended to be disastrous.
Kenny just slumped back on the sofa, folded his arms, and
closed his eyes.
The reporter on TV started talking about Jeffery and it didn’t
register at first. Evan had come in during the middle of the segment
and he had to piece it all together. When he finally did, he sat there
gaping at the screen, with one hand pressed to his chest and the
other braced against the arm of the chair. When he finally looked at
Kenny again, his chest caved in and he didn’t know what to say.
Evidently, Jeffery had been caught with his pants down, and
in one of the most embarrassing ways possible. The owner of the
high-profile social media company Jeffery had been meeting with
in Silicon Valley, Darin Bloomberg, had gone to Jeffery’s hotel
room on Friday night. Darin Bloomberg’s wife had been following
her husband and Darin didn’t know it. The enraged wife stormed
into Jeffery’s hotel room, caught Jeffery and her husband in bed
together naked, and fired shots over their heads. She ran out of
bullets, hotel security caught her, and the police were called. After
that, the media found out about it and the incident became top-
priority news. There wasn’t much else going on in the world that
weekend, so there was no hope of it disappearing fast. To make
matters even worse, someone—probably hotel security—had taken
a video of Jeffery and Darin Bloomberg in bed together and posted
it on the Internet. According to the TV reporter, the video went vi-
ral within an hour and the entire world seemed to be talking about
the gay billionaire Wall Street Shark in bed with the allegedly
straight married tech geek from Silicon Valley.
As Evan sat there in shock, wondering what to say to Kenny
about all this, the phone rang and he reached across the coffee table
to pick it up. When he heard Jeffery’s voice on the other end, he
walked into the kitchen so Kenny wouldn’t hear what he was say-
ing.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Evan asked, keeping his
voice low. He wanted to slam the phone into the wall next to the
refrigerator. “When we agreed to an open marriage you said dis-
cretion was the key word. You told me you’d never embarrass me
or Kenny or do anything in public that would hurt us. And now
I have to look at a viral video of you in bed with that bone-fuck
ugly Darin Bloomberg on TV?” On TV they’d only showed clips
of the video that had been posted on the Internet because the full
video was too graphic. On TV it was basically upper body shots of
both Jeffery and Darin with stunned expressions. Though Kenny
had seen photos of Darin Bloomberg before, he’d never been
impressed with his looks. He had a long hook nose, a weak chin,
curly red hair, and a chubby body that suggested he rarely took
a walk, let alone worked out at a gym. He certainly wasn’t the
type Evan would have thought Jeffery would have slept with. But
what bothered Evan more than that was if Jeffery was attracted to
someone as butt ugly as Darin Bloomberg, what did that say about
Jeffery’s attraction to him?
Jeffery’s voice remained calm and even. “The fucking wife
went berserk. You should have seen her flinging that gun around
and shooting at us. I think the cunt has a firearms fetish. And she
was screaming something that made no sense at all, ‘What fresh
hells await me now?’”
“You were boning her husband,” Evan said. “Think about that
for a moment.” He knew Jeffery would never be the bottom with
anyone. He didn’t have to ask who was getting fucked in that bed.
Evan also knew the wife was referring to a Dorothy Parker quote:
“What fresh hell is this?” It made no sense to mention the quote
to Jeffery. He’d never read a book that wasn’t financially oriented
from cover to cover in his life.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Jeffery said.
“What about your rule of never mixing business with plea-
sure?” Evan asked.
“Turns out Darin Bloomberg loves dick,” Jeffery said. “He
begged me to fuck him. What can I say? It’s not like we’re having
an affair or anything. He wasn’t planning to leave her for me. So I
don’t know what the fuck fresh hells the bitch is talking about. If
she were smart she’d grab that gun, put on a strap-on, and fuck him
herself.”
“He’s married,” Evan said. “She thinks you broke up their
home. Most people would think that way. I’m sure she didn’t know
she was in an open marriage, because unless an open marriage is
discussed, it’s called cheating.” It always amazed him to think he
had to explain things like this to Jeffery.
“It’s not the first time I’ve slept with a married man. It’s just
the first time I got caught sleeping with one. I can’t believe that
crazy fucking bitch shot at us. I could be dead now. I don’t know
what the fuck her problem is.”
Evan hadn’t overlooked this. He was relieved Jeffery hadn’t
been shot. But he was too mad to comfort him. “Her problem is
that you fucked her husband and that her husband is a lying god-
damn cheater. What part of that don’t you get, Jeffery?” He knew
he shouldn’t have asked that question. He knew Jeffery would
never understand what he’d done wrong. For Jeffery, sex had noth-
ing to do with emotion. It was a physical need to be satisfied. Plain
and simple.
“I can’t talk long,” Jeffery said in a dismissive tone. He’d mas-
tered the art of changing the subject years ago. “I’m waiting for a
call from my attorney.”
“What am I supposed to tell Kenny?” Evan asked. He glanced
into the living room and saw that his son was sitting on the sofa
with a pillow over his face now.
“Tell him I’ll talk to him when I get home,” Jeffery said. “For
now, tell him the truth and don’t lie about anything. You know me
better than anyone in the universe, and we both agreed a long time
ago never to lie to him.”
“But he’s still hoping we might get back together,” Evan said.
“Well, we are going to get back together again as soon as you
come to your senses. I don’t see how this silly little thing changes
anything.”
Though most husbands would have hung up and phoned
their attorneys, Evan knew deep down that wasn’t how it would
work with him. It would have been a completely different mat-
ter if Jeffery had been lying to him. But Jeffery had always told
him the truth, which made it virtually impossible to hate him. So
Evan ignored the remark about them getting back together and
asked, “When are you coming home? I don’t want to deal with this
alone.”
“I’m leaving as soon as I can,” Jeffery said. “Darin’s not going
to press charges against his wife, but I’m not sure how that works.
I’m not either. We want this thing to die fast. That’s why I’m wait-
ing to talk to my attorney.”
“I guess the deal you’ve been working on with Darin is fin-
ished now,” Evan said. He felt a slight sense of comfort in this.
Jeffery had worked hard, but a lot of his success had been acquired
through what Evan considered dumb luck—being in the right place
at the right time. He’d always believed that if his husband had
known how to deal with a little failure it would have made him
a better person. Evan had been around long enough to learn one
thing: money didn’t buy happiness.
“The hell it is,” Jeffery said. “This doesn’t change anything. I
didn’t fuck his fat for nothing. We’re still going public next week,
I’m still investing millions of dollars in his company, and this is
only going to give us the best free publicity we’ve ever had. Oh,
there’s nothing like a good old-fashioned sex scandal to get atten-
tion.”
“You almost got killed while you were fucking a married man,
and now your dick is all over the Internet. How is that good public-
ity?”
Jeffery laughed. He didn’t seem concerned. “Any free public-
ity is good publicity as long as they spell my name right. And you
know I have nothing to worry about with my dick. If anything,
when they get a look at me naked, the stock is going to soar.”
“Don’t be so smug,” Evan said. “Not now.”
“It’s true. I’m not being smug. I know how people think and I
never sugarcoat it.”
Evan hadn’t looked at it that way, but that was because he’d
never been good with anything that involved business or market-
ing. He needed advice from his literary agent about everything that
involved the business end of publishing. He probably could have
sold more books if he’d spent more time marketing and promot-
ing himself like other authors he knew, but he was satisfied with
his small readership and as long as his books sold a decent number
of copies, that was all he cared about. Like most career writers, he
only wanted to write. He didn’t want to give speeches or lectures,
or spend most of his time at book signing events. Conferences
made him cringe.
So Evan sighed and said, “You’d better promise me one thing.
When you get home you talk to Kenny first. Nothing else happens
before you do that.”
“Of course I will,” Jeffery said. “You know the only two im-
portant things to me in life are you and Kenny.”
This sounded good whenever Jeffery said it. But Evan always
had trouble believing it. He also wondered if all this had been
an accident, or if Jeffery had somehow planned to get caught in
bed with Darin Bloomberg on purpose to get the free publicity. It
seemed awfully strange that something like this would happen only
days before Darin’s company went public. And from what Evan
had read, this social media company was popular but based on
nothing concrete. “I have to go into the living room and talk to him
now. Call me before you leave California.” His voice had softened
by then. He knew getting mad at Jeffery wouldn’t help the situa-
tion. It would be the same as getting mad at a dog for licking his
own balls.
“One more thing,” Jeffery said. “Keep a low profile for a while.
The press will be looking for you and Kenny. They’ll want to get
your reaction to what happened. You know the drill.”
He’d been through things like this before with Jeffery. Nothing
this serious, where Jeffery had been caught in a sex scandal and
his penis had been broadcast all over the Internet, but Evan had
learned how to deal with the media: play dumb, say nothing, move
forward without looking sideways.
When Evan returned to the living room to talk to Kenny, the
news reporter had just mentioned Evan’s name. There were two
people on this particular news show discussing what had happened
with Jeffery and Darin, trying to figure out whether or not there
would be any ramifications as a result of Jeffery’s indiscretion.
They didn’t know Jeffery and Evan had agreed to an open mar-
riage. Evan knew their faces but not their names. He usually got
his news online.
Reporter one said, “How do you think Jeffery Charles’s hus-
band, Evan Littlefield, will react when he finds out? I hear they
are living in separate apartments in New York, but neither one has
officially announced plans to divorce.”
Reporter two said, “I’m not sure how Evan Littlefield will
react. He’s a very reclusive author. There were rumors he was in
rehab recently but nothing was confirmed.”
That was when Evan lifted the remote and muted the volume.
The last thing he needed to hear was some idiot trying to figure out
his life when he still hadn’t figured anything out yet himself. He
turned to his son and said, “This is how Evan Littlefield is going to
react. He’s going to take his son to the Museum of Modern Art this
afternoon and he’s not going to say a word to the press about any-
thing. It’s none of their business what goes on in his private life, or
in his marriage.”
“We’re going to be hounded,” Kenny said.
“We’ll wear hoodies and sneak out the back way,” Evan said.
“We’ve been through it before and we’ll get through it again.” In
his neighborhood they would blend right in with everyone else.
This was another reason why he loved living there. He never could
have done anything like this if he were still living in the town-
house.
Kenny sent him a frustrated glance and asked, “That’s it?
You’re not pissed off or anything? How can you let him get away
with that? He just cheated on you, in case you haven’t heard.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” Evan said. He sat down on the sofa
next to his son and reached for his hand. “Your father loves us and
that’s all that matters.” He knew this sounded lame.
“But you’re married to him,” Kenny said.
“Your father is not like other men, and it’s time you realize it.
You’re not a child anymore. Your father is a complicated man who
moves to the beat of his own drum, pardon the bad cliché. We have
an open marriage, which isn’t all that uncommon for gay men. So
he didn’t really cheat on me. I wish he’d been more discreet about
it. But that doesn’t mean we still don’t love each other, and that
doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“If you were so happy about this open marriage thing, then
why did you move out?” Kenny asked.
“I didn’t say I was happy about it,” Evan said. “I said I under-
stand your father. There’s a difference. When he said he wanted an
open marriage I decided to give him the room he needed. If I had
fought him, our marriage would have ended and I would have lost
him, and I didn’t want that to happen. I still love him too much and
I’m not ready to give up on him. I know it’s hard to understand, but
it’s the truth. That’s the best explanation I can give you.”
Kenny made a face and turned away from him. “And look
where that got you. You wound up soaked in booze, in a back alley,
then in rehab.”
Evan grabbed Kenny’s arm and held it tightly. “Oh no, that’s
not how it works. I take full responsibility for my actions and your
father had nothing to do with my drinking. I have an alcohol prob-
lem because I’m addicted to a substance. I have that under control
now and I’m not going back to rehab again. I’m not blaming my
alcoholism on anyone anymore.” While he said this, he felt a little
shaky. He could have killed for a drink to get him through this
conversation.
“Well, you can take it from him, but I’m not,” Kenny said. “I
don’t want anything to do with him anymore after this. I’ve had it.”
Evan lowered his voice. He put his arms around his son and
said, “It doesn’t work that way, Kenny. You can’t divorce your dad.
As soon as he lands in New York he’s going to talk to you about all
this and you’re going to listen to him.”
“Oh no, I’m not,” Kenny said.
“Oh yes, you are,” Evan said. “Like it or not, he’s still your fa-
ther and he hasn’t done anything wrong to you. He’s done nothing
but love you and give you the best he could possibly give.”
Kenny’s voice softened this time. He turned to Evan and said,
“You can’t tell me that what just happened didn’t change things
forever. If there was hope for you moving back home, it’s gone
now.”
Evan had to stop and think about this before he answered.
“You’re right about that. After this, your father and I might never
get back together. I honestly don’t know how I feel anymore. He
seems okay with this open marriage and I’m not. I was hoping he
would eventually get tired of it. But that doesn’t seem to be hap-
pening and I’m getting older and I want something different.” He
thought about Carson again, but didn’t mention him to Kenny.
“Does that mean you’re getting a divorce?”
Evan held his son tighter. “I don’t know,” he said. “At this
point the only thing I know is we’re going to take it one step at
a time and get through this crisis. It will die down eventually. It
always does. You’ll see what I mean.” Then he closed his eyes for
a moment and wondered what “fresh hells” awaited him next.
Chapter Ten
In a move that surprised both Evan and Carson, Kenny ar-
ranged for his dad and his teacher to meet at a small bistro in the
Village to discuss his grades. This happened a few weeks after
Jeffery’s sex scandal with the multi-million-dollar social media
king, Darien Bloomberg. Since then, Jeffery had explained every-
thing to Kenny, he’d gone public with the social media stock, and
the sex scandal had died down to the point where people seemed
more interested in whether or not social media would be a profit-
able investment than how often the Wall Street Shark was boning
Darien Bloomberg.
While all this had been happening, Evan had been working on
his next historical novel during the day and seeing Carson on the
sly in the evenings. In lieu of what had happened with Jeffery and
Darien in Silicon Valley, Evan thought it would be easier on his
son if he didn’t know his other dad was sleeping with his English
teacher on a regular basis. Evan also had to be careful about what
he did in public because the press had been following him ever
since Jeffery’s sex scandal.
Evidently, Kenny didn’t seem to mind Evan getting to know
Carson better, and he proved this when he set a luncheon date with
his English teacher and Evan.
Up until that meeting at the bistro in the Village, Evan and
Carson had been getting together in the early evenings at the gym
where Carson trained on Delancey Street. He wound up enjoying
the training regimen boxers did more than he thought he would. He
even learned how to fight, which made him feel more secure. Evan
always told Kenny he was going to the gym after dinner. He didn’t
lie. He just didn’t tell Kenny what gym he went to. And if the press
was following him, they couldn’t fault him for going to a gym to
work out.
After Evan and Carson worked out, they would meet in the
small room at the back of the gym and share a few passionate mo-
ments together. They didn’t have much time; none of these en-
counters lasted more than fifteen or twenty minutes. Carson would
basically pull down Evan’s shorts, bend him over the metal table,
and fuck him until they both came. Sometimes Carson didn’t even
pull down his boxing shorts. He seemed too excited. He would pull
up the leg of his boxing shorts, pull his dick out of his jock strap,
put on a condom, and spread Evan’s legs.
Although they shared a strong sexual attraction, Evan wasn’t
sure it was emotional enough to leave Jeffery once and for all.
That was another reason he decided not to mention anything about
Carson to Kenny.
But Evan didn’t know what to think when he found out Kenny
had arranged a meeting between them, without knowing they’d
been seeing each other all along.
By the time Evan showed up at the bistro in the Village, Carson
was already sitting at a small table waiting for him. Evan sat down
and said, “I don’t understand why we have to be so formal. We
could have talked about this at the gym tomorrow. When Kenny
told me yesterday you wanted to meet me today to talk about his
grades, I was actually kind of surprised.” They hadn’t seen each
other in a few days because Evan had been busy working on a pro-
motional piece for a website that focused on historical romances.
And Evan had told Carson not to phone him unless it was abso-
lutely necessary.
Carson blinked. “I didn’t want to meet you here. Kenny said
you wanted to meet with me. I’m just as shocked. I figured we’d be
seeing each other tomorrow anyway. And you told me not to call
unless it was important. I figured I’d play it safe and not ask any
questions so Kenny wouldn’t make any assumptions about us.”
Evan frowned and stared down at his lap. When he glanced up,
he asked, “So what’s wrong with Kenny’s grades? Is he failing? I
had a feeling all the stress from Jeffery and his moving in with me
would catch up eventually.”
Carson blinked again. “He’s my best student. He’s not failing.
What did you want to talk to me about?”
That was when Carson realized they’d been set up. He closed
his eyes and shook his head. “I have a feeling Kenny’s trying to tell
us something.”
“I don’t understand.”
Evan shrugged and said, “It’s obvious this meeting was his at-
tempt at getting us together. I think he’s actually trying to fix us up,
and he has no idea we’ve been seeing each other all this time.”
“I guess I should be flattered,” Carson said. “Now we can stop
sneaking around and being so secretive.” He’d already let Evan
know he wasn’t fond of meeting him in the gym. He wanted to take
him back to his loft and make love to him like civilized people.
Evan shook his head. “I know it sounds good,” he said. “But
I know Kenny, and he’s only doing this because he’s still mad at
Jeffery for getting involved with Darin Bloomberg. He wants to get
even with Jeffery. And this is his way of protecting me. He thinks
if I’m with someone stable like you, I can’t get hurt again. Besides,
I don’t want our relationship to be public knowledge yet. That
kind of news might not hurt my career, but it could hurt yours as a
schoolteacher.”
“You have a point,” Carson said. “But I’m not worried about
my job. I’ve been out of the closet for years and I’m not hiding
anything from anyone.”
Evan hesitated. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing because
he really liked Carson. He reached for his hand and held it tightly.
“It’s not that simple. I’m still married to Jeffery and I’m not ready
to let go of that yet.” This was getting more complicated than he
wanted it to be.
“But he’s so bad for you,” Carson said. He leaned forward and
looked into Evan’s eyes. “He’ll sleep with anyone, he’ll do any-
thing to make money, and from what I’ve seen and heard, he has
no morals or ethics to speak of. I know I’m not perfect, not by any
means. I have my quirks just like any other guy. But I think I’m
falling in love with you and I don’t want to sneak around with you
anymore.”
Evan sat back and folded his hands on the table. “I’m sorry,
Carson. I have to be honest with you. I can’t offer you anything
more than what we have right now. I still love my husband, in spite
of everything you just said. I have strong feelings for you. But I’m
just not ready to say it’s over with Jeffery.”
“If you need more time, I can deal with that,” Carson said.
“I’m curious about something. When was the last time you saw
Jeffery?”
“We speak every day on the phone,” Evan said.
“I’m asking about the last time you saw him.”
Evan shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since before he went on
that trip to California. It’s been weeks now.”
“Does he know about me?” Carson asked.
Evan nodded. “Yes, I’ve told him I’m seeing you regularly.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
Evan smiled, but he hesitated even longer. He couldn’t tell Car-
son the truth this time. When Evan had mentioned his relationship
with Carson to Jeffery, Jeffery had laughed and said, “Have fun
while it lasts. I’m sure he’s a competent stud horse.” Evan wasn’t
surprised by Jeffery’s reaction. He knew Jeffery tended to be smug
that way. Jeffery even said, “I know you still love me, and I also
know no man will ever make you feel the way I do. I’m not wor-
ried at all.”
So Evan took a quick breath and answered Carson’s question
without going into detail. “Jeffery is respecting the rules of our
open marriage.” He couldn’t tell him Jeffery didn’t consider him
serious competition. But more than that, Evan wasn’t sure how he
felt about Carson yet. The only reason he continued to see him was
because he thought he might be able to have a real relationship
with someone who wasn’t interested in things like open marriages.
He knew he might have to settle for second best, but it was worth it
to get that kind of stability in his life.
“Then I’ll wait,” Carson said. “I don’t care how long it takes.
Sooner or later you have to come to your senses and see that Jef-
fery Charles is no good for you.”
But that same afternoon, while Kenny was at football practice
and Carson was back at school meeting with another parent who
had a kid who really was failing English, Evan opened the door
to his apartment and found two dozen long-stemmed roses on his
dining table and Jeffery sitting almost naked on his sofa. He was
wearing nothing but a red bowtie.
Evan reached out to touch a rose and smiled. He glanced at
the way Jeffery was stretched out on the sofa stroking his dick
and took a deep breath. Jeffery knew Evan had always had a small
secret fetish for men in bowties.
“Where were you?” Jeffery asked.
His deep smooth voice calmed Evan. He wanted to run over
and hug him. But Evan remained standing and said, “I had to meet
Carson about something this afternoon. Why didn’t you tell me
you were coming over?” It was a dumb question. Jeffery never
called in advance; he just showed up and expected Evan to drop
everything for him.
“Is Carson the boxing schoolteacher still fucking you?” Jeffery
asked.
Evan nodded. “Don’t be so crude, Jeffery. You’re the one who
wanted things this way.”
Jeffery released his dick and stood up. He walked over to the
table and put his arms around Evan. “I’m not judging you and I’m
not upset about the boxing schoolteacher. I want him to fuck you
so you can compare and see who’s better at it.”
Sometimes the things Jeffery said didn’t make sense to Evan.
He knew they made sense to Jeffery because everything was a
mind game for him. He did nothing and said nothing without an ul-
terior motive. The problem was figuring out the motive. But Evan
wrote historical romances, not mysteries. “Well, you’re getting
what you want. He’s been fucking me since the first date we had,
and it’s not bad at all.”
Jeffery kissed the back of his neck and said, “Excellent.”
“And why is that excellent?” Evan wanted to pull back. He
knew Jeffery was playing with his head again. But it felt so good
to be in his arms, and so good to inhale his familiar scent, Evan
couldn’t move his feet.
“It’s excellent because whenever you’re with another guy you
always realize that I’m the best, that I will always be the best, and
that no other man on Earth will ever compare to me.”
Evan smiled and rested his cheek on Jeffery’s bare chest. “You
are such a smug sonofabitch. I should throw you out right now.”
Jeffery’s hands went down and stopped at Evan’s waist. “But
you know you’re not going to do that. You haven’t been with me
since you got out of Havilland and you’ve been missing me. I’d bet
a billion dollars that you even close your eyes and think about me
when the boxing schoolteacher is fucking you.”
“Of course not,” Evan said. But he had fantasized about Jeffery
more than once while Carson had been fucking him.
“You’re lying,” Jeffery said. “I can tell because you won’t look
at me.”
If Evan had continued to play games with Jeffery he wouldn’t
have been able to get through to him. The one thing he’d learned as
Jeffery’s husband was that the only thing that gave him power was
the truth. So this time he did step back. He pushed Jeffery away
and said, “The reason why I’m not going to throw you out has
nothing to do with your dick, so get that into your head. The reason
why I’m letting you stay is because you’re my husband, I haven’t
seen you in weeks, and because I love you.”
Jeffery’s expression softened and he lost the smug grin. He
took a few steps and he grabbed Evan by the back of the neck.
He pulled Evan forward and kissed him so hard Evan had to hold
on to his shoulders to keep his balance. While they kissed, Jef-
fery walked backward, pulling Evan toward the bedroom. The few
attempts Evan made to break free from his embrace only made
Jeffery kiss him harder. When they reached the bedroom, Jeffery
threw him down on the bed and climbed on top of him.
This was the kind of control and passion Evan always craved
the most when he wasn’t with Jeffery. Though all the men Evan
had been with in the past, from the delivery guy to Carson Savione,
had been aggressive, none could ever compare to Jeffery when it
came to absolute control. That was because the sex they shared
went deeper than what Evan had shared with other men. This af-
ternoon was no exception. After Jeffery threw Evan on the bed, he
ripped off Evan’s shirt and yanked off his shoes, socks, and pants.
He didn’t bother to pull down Evan’s underwear. He grabbed the
waistband with both hands and with one tug on the right side and
one on the left, he tore them from Evan’s body.
When Evan was naked, Jeffery climbed up higher and smacked
him in the face with his dick. By that time, Evan’s mouth was open
and his tongue was extended. Jeffery grabbed him by the hair and
forced his head back. He held his dick within inches of Evan’s lips,
as if he wanted Evan to beg and plead for it. The harder he forced
Evan’s head away from his dick, the more Evan fought him. His
mouth remained open and he struggled as hard as he could until
Jeffery finally let go and shoved his dick to the back of Evan’s
throat.
While Evan sucked, he closed his eyes and ran his hands up
and down his husband’s solid thighs. No one had legs like Jeffery,
and no one else could fill him with this much emotion. Evan turned
into every bad cliché he’d ever hated. His heart raced while Jeffery
slid in and out of his mouth. His own cock jumped each time Jef-
fery held his head in his hands and forced it in deeper. When they
made love this way, it was as if Jeffery could read his mind and no
words were needed. With his husband, Evan felt free to do things
he wouldn’t have felt free to do with other men, not even Carson.
They knew each other so well, and trusted each other so much,
they both knew nothing they did to each other in bed would ever
be questioned or judged. This one aspect of being married to a man
who he loved unconditionally was a huge reason why Evan still
wanted to fight for his marriage.
On that afternoon, they did something Evan would never have
suggested doing with Carson. They remained in the same posi-
tion, with Evan on his back and Jeffery straddling his chest. Evan
sucked until he could taste Jeffery edging toward climax. A minute
after that, their eyes locked and Jeffery grabbed the back of Evan’s
head with both hands. Jeffery jerked Evan’s head a few times and
made a face. When he came, Evan closed his eyes and took every-
thing Jeffery had to give him. The sweetness always overwhelmed
him for a moment.
But that wasn’t the thing Evan wouldn’t do with Carson. He’d
already sucked Carson off and swallowed more than once, on his
knees in the locker room of the gym on Delancey Street. What hap-
pened next was something he only did with Jeffery—or when he
was alone.
After Jeffery came, he remained inside Evan’s mouth until
Evan had sucked every last drop. When he finally did pull out, Jef-
fery crawled off Evan’s body and went to the other side of the bed.
He grabbed Evan’s legs and smiled. Evan returned the smile and
nodded. The thing he was about to do was something Jeffery loved
to see and Evan never complained about doing it. It was something
he’d learned about himself when he’d been a teenager, and now it
was something he only shared when he was with Jeffery. They’d
done this so many times Jeffery knew exactly how to hold him and
which way to position him to get the maximum effect.
Jeffery glanced down and asked, “Are you ready?”
Evan nodded and said, “Yes.”
Then Jeffery lifted Evan’s legs, pushed his lower body forward,
and bent him in half until his dick was hanging over his face. Jef-
fery didn’t have to work hard pushing his lower half into his upper
half, and Evan felt no pain or discomfort whatsoever. It was as if
his body had been designed to do this. Jeffery gave him a gentle
push and Evan opened his mouth and started sucking his own dick.
He couldn’t take the whole thing into his mouth, but he could take
enough of it to get himself off with his own mouth. And it never
took very long, especially with Jeffery watching him.
When they were finished, Jeffery lowered his legs and climbed
on top of him again. He kissed him on the mouth and held him the
same way he’d been holding him after sex since the first day they’d
met. After being with Carson, who still felt like a stranger, the
familiarity overwhelmed Evan for a moment.
Evan caressed the back of his head slowly until he stopped
kissing. He didn’t want to let go of him, but he knew Kenny would
be home soon and he didn’t want Kenny to know they’d had sex.
“When will I see you again?” he asked. It caused a pain in his
stomach to ask this question.
Jeffery got up and climbed out of bed. “I’m not sure. I have to
fly out to Cupertino tomorrow again.”
“Are you still fucking fat-assed Darien Bloomberg?” Evan
asked. He sat up and felt his lips to see if they were puffy from
sucking Jeffery’s dick. He knew he would have to put ice on them
so Kenny wouldn’t notice. The last time Kenny had seen him with
puffy lips he’d lied and said he’d had an allergic reaction to a
mango, but he’d really been sucking Carson’s dick.
“Does it matter?” Jeffery said. “He’s just a piece of ass. You’re
the one I love.”
Evan climbed out of bed and walked over to where he was
standing. He put his arms around him and said, “It’s starting to
matter more and more to me. We can’t keep this up much longer.
I’m not cut out for an open marriage, Jeffery. We’re both getting
older.”
Jeffery kissed the top of his head and sighed. “Can we talk
about this later? I have to go. I’m meeting some very important
people for dinner tonight. Do you need anything?”
“I’m good,” Evan said. “The only thing I need is something
normal in my life. I don’t want to give up on us. I really don’t. But
Carson is a great guy and he’s willing to wait for me to make a
decision.”
“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t get serious with anyone
else,” Jeffery said. “And it sounds like you’re telling me this god-
damn boxing teacher is more than just a fuck buddy.”
“I didn’t plan it,” Evan said. “It just happened. He’s a sweet
guy.”
“Do you love him?”
“Not the way I love you,” Evan said. “But he’s stable and hon-
est, and he cares about how I feel. He wants the same things in a
relationship I want. And I think Kenny likes him, too.” He almost
mentioned that Kenny had set him up on a date with Carson and
then changed his mind. He didn’t want to put Kenny in the middle
of his situation with Jeffery.
“I’ll call you,” Jeffery said. “And when I get back we’ll talk.
Okay?”
Evan kissed him and said, “I’m serious this time. This open
marriage isn’t working for me. And I’m starting to think I’m never
going to turn you into the man I wish you’d be.”
Jeffery kissed him on the forehead and turned. As he loped into
the bathroom, Evan felt a tug in his chest. He wanted alcohol, and
not just one drink. He felt this overwhelming desire to put on his
clothes, run out of the apartment, and hit the first bar he saw.
Chapter Eleven
“Did you see that girl?” Kenny asked Evan.
“No, who are you talking about? What girl?” Evan hadn’t been
paying attention to anything except getting through the afternoon
without going into a bar for a drink. It was Saturday afternoon,
they’d gone out shopping because Kenny needed a new coat, and
Evan hadn’t heard from Jeffery in two days. This wasn’t unusual,
not completely. It happened sometimes when Jeffery was busy
working on something important. Evan knew he was concentrating
on the social media venture because the stock hadn’t been doing
well since it had gone public.
Kenny grabbed his dad’s arm and pulled him closer so he could
whisper. “There are a couple of people over there near the corner
and one of the girls gave me a look. She’s like really hot, Dad.”
When Evan turned to look, Kenny grabbed his arm and said,
“Don’t be so obvious. I don’t want her to know I noticed.”
Evan smiled. “Okay, I won’t look. Let’s get something to eat.
You must be starved.” They were standing outside a small restau-
rant in the West Village. Evan wasn’t hungry at all; he rarely ate
lunch. But he knew his growing teenage son could eat two lunches
a day and still be hungry.
When they entered the restaurant, the head waiter told them
he’d have a table ready in a moment. On Saturday afternoons in
the West Village, Evan knew they were lucky to get any table any-
where because there were so many tourists from New Jersey and
Connecticut. He’d completely dismissed the girl Kenny had been
talking about a minute earlier until Kenny grabbed his arm again
and started to whisper.
“Don’t look, but they are coming in here,” Kenny said.
Evan remained still, terrified to move his head in any direction.
“Who are you talking about now? Who’s coming in here?”
“The hot girl with the other two people,” Kenny said. “You
have to do me a favor.”
Evan’s head went up. “What kind of favor?”
Kenny did not answer him. Before Evan had a chance to ask
another question, the three people Kenny had been talking about
stepped into the restaurant and stood behind them. Evan took a
quick glance and saw a nice-looking young woman with long
blond hair, another young woman with brown hair, and a tall young
man wearing a brown leather sport jacket. He didn’t think any of
them were all that special. And they looked overly prepped, trying
hard to be cool, as if they’d just hopped off a bus from New Jersey.
While Kenny stood there sending furtive glances to the young
blond woman, the head waiter returned and said, “We have your
table.” Then looked over Kenny’s shoulder and spoke to the tall
guy in the brown leather sport jacket standing behind Evan. “I’m
afraid there won’t be any more tables for at least a half hour. We’re
extremely busy today.”
Without missing a beat, Kenny interjected in a move that re-
minded Evan of Jeffery when he wanted something he thought was
important. Kenny said, “How big is our table? Can you seat five
there?”
Evan’s jaw fell. He had no idea what his son was doing.
The head waiter said, “I’m sure we can. No problem.”
Kenny turned to the young blond woman and said, “You’re
welcome to join us. My brother and I don’t mind.”
Evan grabbed Kenny’s arm and squeezed it hard. He glared at
him and said, “Your brother?”
The blond girl asked, “Are you sure there’s room?”
Kenny sent Evan a look and smiled at the blond girl. “Yeah,
man. We have plenty of room.”
Evan rolled his eyes. He knew words like “man” and “dude”
were interchangeable nowadays. It was evident that Kenny wanted
Evan to pretend they were brothers so he could get to know the
young blond woman. So Evan shrugged and said, “That’s fine.
But we can’t stay long. We have that party to go to later tonight.”
Although this was not something Evan would ever have thought of
doing, he found it amusing to see how eager his son was to get to
know this young woman. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to play along
for a little while. He would simply sit quietly and observe the
younger people.
The head waiter escorted them to the back of the small nar-
row restaurant. On the way, Evan leaned into Kenny and said,
“I’m going to get even with you, you little shit.” He wasn’t really
angry. Evan didn’t want to bruise his ego just when he was begin-
ning to explore his own sexuality. They’d already had the dad/son
talk about the facts of life and Evan knew Kenny wasn’t shy about
anything. Even though Evan had explained there were benefits to
abstaining from sex and waiting for the right person to come along,
hoping his son wouldn’t start having sex too soon, he knew in
reality not many young people paid attention to this advice. In fact,
they’d been ignoring this same advice since the beginning of time.
Before they sat down, Kenny said, “I’m Kenny and this is my
older brother, Evan.”
The blonde said, “I’m Candy.” She gestured to her two friends.
“This is Lorraine and Grayson. We’re students at Fairleigh Dickin-
son University in New Jersey and we’re hanging out in the city for
the day.”
Kenny flashed a huge smiled and squared his shoulders. “We
go to NYU. We live downtown in Alphabet City.”
In a deadpan tone, Evan sighed and said, “I’m older than my
brother. I’m in grad school.”
Before they sat down, Grayson stepped up to Evan and pulled
out his chair. This set the tone for the duration of the meal and
Evan had never been so uncomfortable in his life. He soon learned
he wouldn’t be able to sit quietly and observe. While Candy and
Kenny talked about school, Lorraine giggled and she tried to flirt
with Kenny, too. Both young women seemed so interested in
Kenny, and Kenny seemed so interested in them, everyone forgot
about Grayson and Evan sitting at the back of the table. No one
even heard Grayson lean over and ask, “How long have you been
out? I just came out last year, dude.”
Evan gulped and said, “I’ve been out for a while.” On the one
hand, he admired the way Grayson seemed to so comfortable talk-
ing about being openly gay, but on the other he felt creepy sitting
there with a guy in his first year of college. But more than that,
he wondered how Grayson had been able to tell he was gay. Most
of the time no one knew, at least not at first. These younger kids
nowadays seemed to have extra hidden radar or something.
Evan grew even more uncomfortable when handsome young
Grayson dropped his napkin on purpose, bent down to get it, and
grabbed his ass under the table when the other three weren’t look-
ing. Evan remained solid and even. He wanted to pretend it never
happened. He reached down and removed Grayson’s hand from
his ass and smacked him gently. But it didn’t end there. Grayson
continued to stare between Evan’s lips and eyes. Grayson felt up
Evan’s legs, his arms, and even put his arm around him at one
point. By the time the waiter handed them the check, Evan wanted
to stand up and kiss the waiter for saving him from this aggressive
young gay man who didn’t seem to have any boundaries.
Before anyone else could say a word, Evan stood up, took
the check from the waiter, and said, “This one’s on me.” Then he
handed the waiter the full amount in cash, with a generous tip,
and glanced down at his son. “We have to get moving now, little
brother.” He gritted his teeth because young Grayson was feeling
up his leg and no one knew it. “We’ll be late for that appointment
we have with Mom and Dad.”
Kenny shrugged and stood up. He clearly didn’t want to leave
yet, but he must have noticed the serious tone in Evan’s voice.
Candy asked. “Are you guys free later tonight? There’s this
party we’re all going to in Chelsea and you can come along.”
That’s when Evan took control. Not only was he too old to be
getting felt up by a horny freshman in college, he thought Kenny
was too young to be meeting a girl that much older than he was.
Kenny was still in high school. It was fun while it lasted; Kenny
got a chance to pretend. But enough was enough.
Evan grabbed his son’s arm, pulled him away from the table,
and said, “Thanks for the offer, but we really can’t. Mom and
Dad are taking us out to dinner tonight before they leave for an
extended tour of Japan. It was nice meeting you, though.” Then
he yanked Kenny out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk, and
hailed a taxi.
On the way home, Kenny poked him in the arm and said, “I
think Grayson wanted to get into your pants. The guy has it bad for
you.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Evan said. He felt his face getting warmer.
“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” Kenny said. He sounded
as if he were teasing Evan.
But Evan gaped at his son. “Kenny. I can’t believe you just said
that. I’m turning thirty next week and I’m your father. Have you
completely lost your mind?”
Kenny laughed and said, “Calm down, Dad. I think it’s cool
that I have such a young-looking dad. Seriously. How many other
dads or moms get hit on by a guy in college? I can’t wait to tell
Dad about this.”
Although Evan didn’t want to encourage him, he started to
laugh, too. He also took silent pleasure in imagining the expres-
sion on Jeffery’s face when their son told him about how a college
freshman tried to ask him out in a restaurant. “Okay, you’ve had
your fun. But that’s the last time I’m ever doing anything like that
again. And from now on I’d prefer it if you got to know girls closer
to your own age who are still in high school.”
Kenny frowned. “We exchanged phone numbers. We might get
together.”
There wasn’t that much of an age difference, and Kenny would
be in college himself in less than a year, so Evan took a deep
breath and said, “She seemed like a nice girl. Just be careful, if you
know what I mean.”
* * * *
Later that same day, they ordered take out from a Thai place
Kenny liked and then Kenny went out to meet his friend, Zack, at
the movies. Kenny said he was going to a party after the movies
and he wouldn’t be home until midnight. He assured Evan this was
not the same party he’d been invited to earlier by the blond girl in
the West Village, and Evan told him to check in after the movie so
he knew where he was.
Before Kenny left the apartment, Evan hugged him and said,
“If you don’t want to call, you can text me. I only want to know
where you are and that you’re safe. And I’d like you guys home at
midnight.” His friend Zack was spending the night there and Evan
always felt a stronger sense of responsibility when someone else’s
kid was in his home. He knew he couldn’t keep Kenny home and
locked up in his bedroom forever; he knew he had to let him get
out and have fun with his friends. He also wanted to know where
he was and what he was doing at all times. And Kenny had always
been good that way. He argued about it sometimes, but he always
let Evan know what he was doing.
When he left, Evan phoned Jeffery in Cupertino. He’d extend-
ed this latest business trip to work on marketing and promotion,
hoping to create a better image for the social media company that
seemed to be tanking in spite of all the hype when it had gone pub-
lic. Jeffery answered on the first ring but they didn’t speak long. He
said he was in the middle of a meeting and he would call Evan on
Sunday to let him know what time his plane would be landing.
After that, Evan grabbed his backpack and headed down to the
boxing gym on Delancey Street. While Kenny had been sleeping
earlier that morning, Carson had phoned him and they’d set up the
date. They were still meeting at the gym because Evan didn’t want
anyone to find out about them yet. Though the press had backed off
and the sex scandal with Jeffery had died down, he still didn’t feel
comfortable being seen going in and out of Carson’s loft. He still
hadn’t mentioned anything to Kenny about Carson Savione either,
and Kenny seemed to have become disinterested in them getting
together as a couple—at least for the time being.
That Saturday night, Evan didn’t have high hopes for his mar-
riage. He was beginning to think he would never move back to the
townhouse with Jeffery and nothing would ever change between
them. He sometimes fantasized about what life would be like if
he and Jeffery did get a divorce. He would be civil and maintain
a friendly relationship with his ex-husband for Kenny’s sake. In
that sense, they would be bound together as parents for the rest of
their lives. Evan figured that because he hadn’t been able to make
his marriage work, he would fight to make his divorce work. He’d
seen too many screwed-up kids from divorced homes because the
parents had continued to fight each other even when they weren’t
married.
When he walked into the gym, he found Carson boxing in the
ring with a rough-looking young guy who had a scruffy beard and
lean hairy legs. Carson’s trainer was acting as the referee. The gym
looked empty and they were only two training. He didn’t want
to distract Carson, so he slipped into a seat in the back row and
waited for them to finish.
At the end of the training session, Carson reached for a towel
to wipe his sweaty face and he caught a glimpse of Evan sitting in
the back row. He smiled and said, “Hey, I didn’t see you come in.
I want you to meet my buddy, Juan.” He glanced back at the other
sweaty boxer and gestured with his right hand. “C’mon over here
and meet Evan, the guy I was telling you about.”
Evan smiled and walked over to the boxing ring. He reached up
to shake Juan’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Juan.” Although Juan was
as lean and wiry as Carson, his hair was darker, his eyes were more
intense, and he had that serious street-wise quality that suggested
he came from humble, but rough, beginnings. Evan had always
been uncomfortable talking to his type. They tended to make him
feel self-conscious about being gay.
“Nice to meet you,” Juan said. His handshake was firm; he
spoke with an accent.
Then Carson’s trainer said, “I’m going home now. You can
lock up.” He handed Carson the keys to the front door and nodded
at Evan. The old man had never been big on small talk and Evan
wasn’t insulted when he continued walking without even saying
hello or goodbye.
Evan looked up at Carson and said, “You’re closing up al-
ready.” This was the first time he’d gone there on a Saturday night.
Evan usually spent Saturday nights with Kenny watching TV and
eating junk food.
“We close early on Saturdays,” Carson said.
Juan remained silent, as if waiting for Carson to make the next
move. While he stood at the end of the ring, Evan couldn’t ignore
what loomed above his head. When he looked up he could see
Juan’s jock strap through the leg of his shorts. His legs were just as
hairy at the top as they were at the bottom, and there seemed to be
a nice round bulge in his jock.
Then Carson grabbed two towels that had been hanging over
the ropes and said, “C’mon guys. Let’s hit the showers.”
Though Evan didn’t know what to make of this casual com-
ment, he followed Carson and Juan to the back of the gym and into
the locker room. It was the first time Evan had been there with no
one around and it felt a little creepy. The smallest sound seemed to
amplify; even their voices echoed a little. He took a quick breath
and inhaled the familiar damp rubbery scent he grown so accus-
tomed to since he’d met Carson.
Juan stopped at the end of a long wooden bench and opened his
locker. Evan followed Carson to the other end of the same bench
and set his backpack down. When Carson opened his locker, he
leaned into Evan’s side and said, “Juan wants to take a shower with
us. He’s seen you around and he asked if it’s okay. I didn’t want to
say anything until I talked to you first.”
It took a moment for this to sink in. All this time Evan had been
thinking Carson was different from the other men he’d known.
He’d actually begun to believe Carson and Jeffery were nothing
alike and that Carson only wanted to be with him. For that one
brief instant in his complicated life, Evan thought there might still
be hope and that he’d found a gay man who wanted a monogamous
marriage and wouldn’t be interested in having sex with anyone else
but him. Oh, he should have known better. Cadin was right: he did
go for the same type all the time. He almost laughed in Carson’s
face. This knack he had to ignore the realities in his life had always
been one of the reasons why he’d turned to alcohol. And he had no
one to blame but himself.
Carson kissed him in front of Juan and said, “So, is it cool? I
think it could be fun.”
Instead of shoving Carson into the lockers and kicking him in
the ass for making him believe there was still hope, he smiled and
said, “Why the fuck not?” Then he glanced over his shoulder and
Juan and said, “We’ll be right in. You get the water nice and hot,
handsome.” Juan had already stripped down to his jock strap. The
bulge between his legs looked even bigger than Evan had imag-
ined.
An unusual sense of relief passed through Evan and a good
deal of the stress he’d been feeling about his relationship with Car-
son dissipated. He realized that night his relationship with Carson
had never been anything more than sexual and that he hadn’t been
as emotionally involved as he’d thought he’d been. He felt a slight
sting of disappointment, deep down. But nothing that would keep
him awake at night, or send him to the nearest bar.
Chapter Twelve
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Carson asked. He’d
removed his shorts, shoes, and socks, and was about to pull off his
jock strap.
“Sure. I’m a good sport,” Evan said. “He seems like a nice guy,
too.” He’d already removed all of his clothes and he was about to
join Juan in the showers. He reached forward and squeezed the
bulge in Carson’s jock strap and smiled. He kissed him on the lips
and said, “You’re one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met and I
don’t see any reason why we all can’t have a little fun.”
“This doesn’t change anything between us,” Carson said. “I
still have feelings for you. This is just fun and games and when it’s
over, it’s over, as far as I’m concerned.”
Evan squeezed him again and felt him getting harder in his
hand. He’d been listening to these same words from Jeffery for
years. “Let’s not talk about anything too deep right now. I’m so
tired of talking about things too much I could scream. I’m all
talked out. In the past six months I’ve been analyzed, scrutinized,
examined, and dissected. For once I’d just like to go with the mo-
ment and forget about everything emotional that requires too much
thought. Right now, the only thing I want is to have two good-
looking boxers take turns fucking me in a men’s locker room.”
Carson’s eyes opened wider. “I’ve never seen you this candid
before.”
Evan turned and headed for the showers. He sent Carson a
backward glance and said, “I have my moments.”
What Evan didn’t say was that he wanted to find out what
he’d been missing out on that other men seemed to embrace.
He’d played by the rules all his life and he’d never stopped going
in circles. Men like Jeffery did whatever they wanted and noth-
ing ever seemed to happen to them. They moved forward, not in
circles, stepping on anyone who got in their way. Though Carson
was by no means as notorious as Jeffery, they both had a lot more
in common than Evan had realized in the beginning. Evan would
never have suggested they do a three-way with Juan—or anyone.
He would have been happy just being with Carson and spending
time alone with him. But Evan seemed to be missing something,
because Carson clearly didn’t have a problem suggesting the three-
way. And it was time for Evan to find out exactly what he’d been
missing.
The showers in that gym were located in one large, open,
square room that had been tiled in white from floor to ceiling.
When he stepped down to join Juan, he found him standing under
a showerhead at the back of the square room with his head tilted up
as hot water splashed his face. The instant Evan saw Juan, his heart
started to race and his dick grew fully erect. While the hot water hit
Juan, he leaned back with his wiry legs slightly spread, soaping his
genitals with both hands in an awkward way that made Evan smile.
He crossed the shower room slowly and rested one hand on
Juan’s shoulder and the other between his legs. When Juan turned
to put his arm around him and kiss him, he handed Evan a bar
of soap and turned away from the water. As they kissed, Evan
slowly rubbed the bar of soap up and down between Juan’s legs.
Juan spread his legs wider and Evan lathered him with one hand
and gently groped him with the other. Juan seemed to respond to
a lighter touch—they always did. Each time Evan ran his fingers
up and down Juan’s soapy erection, so gently he hardly touched
him at all, Juan shoved his tongue deeper into Evan’s mouth and
squeezed the back of his neck.
When Carson joined them, he stepped up from behind and
placed his hands on Evan’s waist. His pelvis bucked forward,
he shoved his dick up against Evan’s ass, and he started kissing
them both. As their three tongues met, Evan dropped the soap and
reached back with one hand to massage Carson’s balls. He took
both men in each hand at the same time. He stroked and rubbed
and squeezed. They responded to his light, articulate movements
by forcing him into submission the way he’d been hoping they
would.
They yanked his hair and squeezed his neck. The softer he
stroked Carson’s dick, the harder Carson held his waist. Juan’s
hands were all over his body by then. He grabbed Evan’s chest and
cupped his pecs so hard Evan’s entire body went rigid. His back
arched, silently begging Juan to continue, as Carson’s dick tried
to find the lips of his anus. When Evan released both men and his
arms went all the way up, they ran their rough hands up and down
his wet body in moves that sent chills up and down his spine.
There were no spoken rules, but all three of them knew how
this would turn out. When they stopped kissing, Juan held Evan by
the neck and Carson applied pressure to his shoulders. And Evan
knew without having to be told that it was time to go down on his
knees on the shower room floor and do what they wanted him to
do.
No one seemed to be in a hurry, so Evan took his time tonight.
Both men stood side by side as he kneeled before them. He rested
one palm on Juan’s thigh and the other on Carson’s. He buried his
face between Juan’s legs first and gently sucked Juan’s dark balls
into his mouth. Juan held his head and Carson watched with his
lips parted, waiting for his turn.
When Evan turned to do the same thing to Carson a few min-
utes later, Carson spread his legs wider and held his dick up so it
wouldn’t get in Evan’s way. The only thing lacking for Evan was
the sense of smell. He’d always enjoyed the scent of a man who’d
just worked hard. Although there were strong lines drawn between
men with bad hygiene who didn’t wash properly and men who did,
Evan tended to get more turned on when clean men were not fresh-
ly showered. That didn’t mean he wanted them dirty and grungy.
That would have been a huge turn-off for Evan. But the jock who
showered twice a day and cleaned his body thoroughly always
smelled a little better right after a strong workout that had caused
him to perspire, especially between his legs. The ultra-clean man
in a business suit who shaved and showered every morning before
work smelled even better at the end of the day when he came home
and took off his pants. But with the water splashing on all three
of them, any hint of their natural scents virtually disappeared and
mingled with the damp soapy aroma of the shower room.
That didn’t stop Evan from swallowing Juan’s uncircumcised
dick, nor did it stop him from sucking the pre-come from Carson’s.
He took turns on them both and they moved closer together. At one
point, he pulled them together and sucked them both at the same
time. He couldn’t get them all the way into his mouth, but he did
his best trying to get them in as far as he could. They didn’t seem
to enjoy this as much as he did. A few minutes after he started
sucking them together, Juan pulled the back of his head, yanked
him away from Carson, and shoved his dick so far down Evan’s
throat, Evan almost gagged.
Juan seemed needier than Carson. They were both aggressive
and both clearly knew what they wanted, but Juan didn’t hesitate
to pull Evan’s hair or shove his face. He moved with jerks and
unplanned gestures during sex, the same way he’d moved in the
boxing ring when earlier when he’d been training with Carson.
When Juan had had enough in the shower, he turned off the water,
reached down with both hands, and lifted Evan up with one fast
heave that meant nothing to him. And while Carson stood there
watching all this, Juan lifted Evan up, threw him over his right
shoulder, and carried him back into the locker room.
Though Evan had been lifted, turned, bent, and twisted by men
in the past, he’d never actually been carried around this way. He
panicked a little at first; he didn’t have anything to hold on to for
support hanging over Juan’s shoulder. But he calmed down fast
when Juan slapped him hard on the ass and said, “Don’t worry.
You’re not that heavy. You’re safe with me.”
Carson followed them to a long wooden bench in the locker
room not far from where they’d undressed. He helped Juan lower
Evan to the floor, and then he went over to his backpack and pulled
out two condoms and a tube of lube. While Carson opened the
packages and prepared to cover his dick, Juan grabbed Evan by the
arm and pulled him to the bench. He gave him a shove and Evan
went down on his knees. He gave him another shove and Evan
bent over the bench and spread his legs for them.
They both put on condoms and lathered their dicks with lube.
Then Juan made a fist, spread some lube on his middle finger, and
inserted his finger up Evan’s ass. As with all his other moves, Juan
wasn’t gentle. The minute his middle finger entered, Evan’s head
went up and he grabbed the bench and squeezed tightly. He didn’t
slide his finger with gentle strokes. He shoved and poked and prod-
ded in a way that was both intrusive and exciting. Each time his fist
hit the bottom of Evan’s ass, Evan’s mouth opened and he gasped.
A second after that, Juan went down on his knees and reached
between Evan’s legs. He spread them wider and Evan arched
his back in an exaggerated way to let Juan know he wanted to
get fucked. He’d learned early the unsaid things during sex with
strangers tended to be louder than anything he could have said—or
planned to say aloud. Juan seemed to understand what Evan want-
ed and the next thing Evan knew, Juan was holding his waist and
sliding in and out of his body while the top of Evan’s head hit the
metal locker.
Juan fucked harder and faster than most men. He went deep
and pulled all the way out without a set pattern. Evan didn’t know
what to expect next with him. He tended to invade more than enter.
He would slam into Evan, go as deep as he could, then start mov-
ing his pelvis in a way that made the bench vibrate. It also made
Evan’s body vibrate, both inside and out, to the point where the
nerve endings at the lips of his anus brought him to a point of plea-
sure he always found hard to describe. This was one of the most
sensitive areas in Evan’s body. So many people not familiar with
good sex thought anal sex was all about prostate stimulation, and
they failed to consider that a good deal of stimulation came from
the most sensitive nerve endings around the anus. Though Evan
had heard this wasn’t the case with all men—or women—in his
case that was where it all began and ended during anal sex for him.
When Juan pulled out and Carson took his turn, he continued
where Juan had left off. Carson was a more predictable lover and
Evan enjoyed the way his even moves created a balance and a
diversion. Each time Carson entered and pulled out, he seemed to
enhance the same nerve endings that Juan had already stimulated.
And as each of them took a turn on Evan, their individual styles
and movements continued to bring Evan closer to the edge of what
he portended would be an orgasm to remember.
He lost track of how long they’d been taking turns on him.
Though his knees were sore and his fingers ached from holding the
bench, he wouldn’t have minded if they’d kept him in this position
for the rest of the night. But they had other plans. Juan pulled out
and grabbed Evan’s waist. He lifted Evan up until he was standing.
While Carson watched, obviously not sure what was happening,
Juan sat on the bench, spread his legs, and rested on his back. He
reached forward with one hand and took his dick. He shook it and
said, “Sit on it and lean forward.”
When Evan did this, and Juan’s dick was all the way in, he
placed his palms on Juan’s chest. It wasn’t until Juan gestured to
Carson and said, “Get in there,” that Evan grasped the concept.
He’d never done this before. The magnitude of what these men
were going to do to him almost overwhelmed him.
It took a minute, but Carson finally forced his way into Evan
from behind. By that time, Evan was holding Juan’s shoulders
and making a face. He felt no pain. They’d been fucking him for
so long, and the lips of his anus were so sensitive, he was ready
to explode. The way both men had stretched him left him gasp-
ing for air. He’d once heard someone say two dicks are better than
one, and now he knew they weren’t joking. He couldn’t control
his emotions or his actions. He started moaning aloud and mak-
ing noises he never made during sex. If he’d been able to stop, he
would have. He’d never liked it when other people made vulgar
sounds during sex. But this was something he couldn’t seem to
control no matter how hard he tried to restrain himself.
When the guys saw how much Evan liked it, they started fol-
lowing his moves. Carson fucked faster from behind; Juan bucked
his pelvis from below. Evan kept backing into them both, trying
hard to get them into his body as deeply as he could. This time he
wound up grabbing Juan’s hair and pulling it. He screamed so loud
at one point Juan had to shoved three fingers in his mouth to shut
him up.
Carson came first. Then he pulled out and Evan started riding
Juan’s dick faster. He missed Carson’s dick but he was so close by
then it didn’t matter much. He wanted to get Juan off this in this
position, which wasn’t always easy to do with some men. But he
could see by the expression on Juan’s face and the way Juan was
nodding that he was ready to come.
At the exact moment Juan grunted and made a face, Carson
pulled off his condom and he shoved his dick into Evan’s mouth.
Evan closed his eyes and sucked. He moved his hips faster and
Juan grabbed his waist and said, “Fuck, man, fuck.” When Juan
said he was coming with his thick accent, Evan took his own dick,
sucked on Carson harder, and blasted a three-day load that arced
so high it went over Juan’s head and landed on the other side of the
bench.
When it was over, Carson helped Evan climb off Juan’s dick.
They went back into the shower room and Evan took his time
soaping and rinsing both men off. He wanted to do this and they
didn’t seem to mind. When they were finished showering, Juan
even asked Evan to dry him off and help him get dressed. Now
that the sex was over, Evan noticed a vulnerable quality in Juan
that he often saw in aggressive men: the apprehensive need to be
treated with care and at the same time terrified to let anyone know
they wanted this. He’d seen this so many times he wondered often
about the stereotypes all men have to deal with as a result of social
conditioning that said men had to be strong at all times and never
show emotion.
After they got dressed, Juan and Evan waited in front of the
gym on the sidewalk so Carson could close up the gym and turn
out all the lights. While they waited, Evan noticed the gay couple
with the kid in the wheelchair walking down Delancey Street he’d
seen the first time he’d gone to the gym to see Carson fight the Ice
Man. Only this time the kid wasn’t in a wheelchair. He was walk-
ing between the two gay men, holding their hands. They didn’t
walk fast. The kid had braces on his legs.
As they passed, Juan put his arm around Evan and pulled him
closer. It felt like a lame attempt to show emotion and Evan was
not impressed. Evan nodded at the two guys and glanced down to
smile at the little boy. They looked so happy together, Evan felt a
sting in his eye. He wanted to run over and hug all three of them
to let them know how happy he was to see them together again, to
see that they were a family, and to see the little boy walking on his
own. The last time he’d seen them he’d felt sorry for them. This
time, all he felt was love.
But he didn’t move. He just stood there with his hand on Juan’s
abdomen and smiled, remembering a time when he’d walked down
the street the same way with his husband and son.
Chapter Thirteen
“Are you still getting it from the boxing dude?” Jeffery asked.
He’d phoned Evan earlier that morning and Evan had returned
his call. When Jeffery spoke in this crude manner, he tended to be
joking—one huge reason why he’d never had many female friends.
Michele never got his humor, nor did most of the women in his
life. Most women expected Jeffery to be the gay man they saw on
TV, arranging flowers and picking through fabric samples, and
when they found Jeffery was more like the men they’d married and
divorced, they drifted away from him.
“I’m not in the mood for your sarcasm, Jeffery,” Evan said.
Sometimes he lost patience with his sense of humor, too. “I just
found out that Michele broke up with her boyfriend and she’s dev-
astated. The birthday party is off.”
“That’s too bad. But look at the bright side, you can turn thirty
again next year,” Jeffery said. “Besides, I was calling to let you
know I couldn’t make it anyway.”
This didn’t surprise Evan. Jeffery never went out of his way for
anyone, especially not for a party at Michele’s apartment. Jeffery
tended to tolerate her in the same way she tolerated him. But Evan
wasn’t in the mood for Jeffery’s arrogance and he lashed out and
said, “Why do you even bother calling me? I’m serious, Jeffery.”
“I’m sorry I can’t make it to the party,” Jeffery said. “Some-
thing came up and I have to deal with it.”
Evan laughed. “It’s not about the party. It’s not about you. God,
you’re such an asshole sometimes. My best friend just got dumped
by a guy she really liked and I’m upset about it. I know that’s not
something you’ll ever understand. But I care about my friends
and I don’t like to see them get hurt. Forgive me for having feel-
ings, Jeffery, but we can’t all be heartless, sour bastards like you
who spend our days thinking about money and fucking anything
that walks. And right now I’m so sick and tired of everything and
everyone, I don’t even want to talk to you.” He hadn’t spoken to
Jeffery this way in a long time. He wanted a drink so badly he felt
like tearing the pillows on his bed apart.
After a moment of silence, Jeffery said, “I’ll talk to you later,
then.”
Evan hung up without saying goodbye. He’d had the urge to
drink since he’d been discharged from Havilland but it had never
been this strong. He clenched his fists and pounded the mattress
a few times. He thought about Carson and how disappointed he’d
been when he’d discovered Carson wasn’t as interested in a seri-
ous monogamous relationship as Evan had thought he’d been.
Although they were still friends and Evan didn’t hold anything
against him, Evan couldn’t help wondering why he always seemed
to attract the same kind of man. He’d thought it would be different
with Carson and he’d been wrong again. But more than that, he’d
given up all hope of ever having a real marriage and family with
anyone.
Before he got dressed, he phoned Cadin to see how Michele
was doing. Cadin answered on the second ring.
“She’s just sitting on the sofa, staring at a martini glass,” Cadin
said. He spoke in a soft whisper so Michele wouldn’t hear him.
“I’ve never seen her take anything so hard.”
Evan sighed aloud. “I’m coming over. I’ll be there in about
a half hour.” Michele had been seeing the same guy since Evan
had been back from Havilland and she’d sounded so happy. They
hadn’t seen much of each other because she’d been so busy with
the new boyfriend. That night, at Evan’s thirtieth birthday party,
Evan would have met the guy for the first time.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Cadin said. “Between the two of us
I’m sure we can at least make her feel a little better.”
The last thing Evan felt like doing that night was cheering
someone else up. And Cadin sounded just as depressed at Michele.
But Evan couldn’t disappoint Michele. She’d always been there
for him and now it was his turn to be there for her. “Did you phone
everyone and tell them the party was canceled?”
Cadin said, “Yes. I took care of all that. What about Jeffery?”
“Don’t ask,” Evan said. “I’ll see you in a half hour.”
After he hung up, he put on the clothes he’d been planning to
wear to the party: a black sport jacket, white shirt, and new jeans.
Then he went downstairs and walked to the avenue to hail a cab.
But it wasn’t always easy to get a cab in his neighborhood, so he
continued walking toward the West Village. Each bar he passed
along the way made him tighten his fists and lower his gaze to the
sidewalk. At one point, he stopped and gaped at the open door of
a bar he’d been to in the past. He held his breath and counted to
twenty, holding back the urge to run inside and head for the bar-
tender nearest the door. This overwhelming urge, this craving for
alcohol of any kind, consumed him so fully nothing else seemed to
matter.
But he took a deep breath, exhaled, and continued walking
to the next corner. When he finally found a taxi, he climbed into
the backseat and told the driver where to go with such a sense of
urgency the driver sent him a second glance before he pulled away
from the curb. For a moment, Evan felt a slight sense of relief. He
rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He’d been
strong enough to resist the urge to go into that bar. A year earlier
he wouldn’t have resisted that urge. He would have gone inside
and he wouldn’t have come out until the bar closed. There was no
doubt in his mind he would have left the bar with whatever man
there at the time had shown him the slightest amount of interest.
Although the urge to drink lightened a little by the time he
reached Michele’s apartment, it didn’t disappear. It never really
did, not forever. He should have known; he should have expected
this. His doctor at Havilland had warned him. When Cadin an-
swered the door and he walked in and found Michele sitting on the
sofa with a martini glass in her hand and a huge tray of food on the
coffee table, the urge to drink returned with even more intensity.
He kissed Cadin on the cheek and crossed to the sofa. He sat
down beside Michele and put his arm around her. “I’m so sorry,”
he said.
Michele shrugged and leaned into him. “I’m sorry I ruined
your birthday.”
He held her closer. “Sweetie, this isn’t about my birthday.
You’ve been through a shock and that’s all that matters.”
Michele sat up and said, “You have no idea, trust me.”
“What do you mean?” Evan asked. He glanced up at Cadin,
who’d been standing next to the sofa, and Cadin rolled his eyes.
“It’s the last thing I expected,” Michele said.
Evan felt a lump in his throat. He had a feeling he knew what
she was talking about. “Is it another woman?” They were both
getting older and Michele wasn’t dealing with it well. She’d just
turned thirty and she was already doing Botox and talking about
plastic surgery.
“Not exactly,” Michele said. “It’s another man.”
Evan’s head jerked back. “You were dating a gay guy?” He
sent Cadin another look and pressed his palm to his throat. They’d
always joked around that Michele would be happier if she could
just find a nice gay man and settle down. But they’d never been
serious about it.
She turned and glared at him. “I didn’t know he was gay. I had
no idea until he met me for lunch this afternoon and told me he’d
met a guy, he’d fallen in love with him, and they’re planning to get
married.”
“You didn’t see any signs? Your two best friends are gay and
you didn’t see anything unusual about this guy?”
“He’s not really gay,” she said. “He told me he’s bi-sexual.
And get this, the guy he fell in love with is twenty years old.” She
smacked her forehead with the heel of her palm so she wouldn’t
ruin her makeup. “Now I not only have to compete with younger
women, but also younger men. How fucked up is that?”
Evan put his arms around her this time and hugged her tightly.
“It’s not like that, it really isn’t. You just got mixed up with the
wrong guy, is all.”
She sniffed and said, “I can compete with another woman. But
I can’t compete with a twenty-year-old guy. That not even pos-
sible.”
Evan knew there was nothing he could say or do that would
make her feel any better that night. So he took her martini glass,
stood up, and walked over to the bar next to a white baby grand
piano. He mixed a full pitcher of vodka martinis without even real-
izing what he was doing. By the time he started to pour the mixture
into Michele’s martini glass, he glanced up and saw both Cadin
and Michele gaping at him.
They seemed to be waiting for his next move. He lifted the
martini glass and smiled. “It’s not for me. It’s for you.” Then he
brought the martini to the sofa and set it on the coffee table be-
side the tray of party food and picked up a canopy of caviar and
chopped egg and popped it into his mouth.
Then Michele started to cry and they listened to her story
about the way the guy had dumped her. He’d met her for lunch in
a restaurant and dumped her before they had a chance to order. As
if that wasn’t enough, he gestured to the front of the restaurant and
the twenty-year-old guy walked over to their table and sat down
with them.
Both Cadin and Evan leaned forward at the same time. “He
brought the new boyfriend with him?” Evan asked, exchanging a
quick glance with Cadin when Michele wasn’t looking.
She nodded. “He introduced me, asked the guy to join us, and
said he hoped we could all be good friends.”
Cadin’s mouth was hanging open by then. “What did you do?
She shrugged again. “I put up a good front. What could I do?
We were sitting in the middle of a busy restaurant and I couldn’t
make a scene. You know how it is: women aren’t supposed to
make scenes in public or show aggression. We’re supposed to be
nice and smile all the time.”
“I would have kicked them both in the ass,” Evan said. He
reached for Michele’s hand. “I know that’s not something I would
have done a year ago, but the older I get, the more tired I get of
people like this guy making assumptions. I’ve learned a few things
about some men in the past few months, let me tell you. They seem
to drift through life making their own rules, expecting everyone
around them to just go along with them. And I’m getting tired of it.
I say fuck them all and you’re better off without this guy. If more
gay men and straight women took on this attitude we’d all be a lot
better off for it. We need to start making our own rules.”
When Michele got up to use the powder room, Cadin went to
the bar and poured himself a martini. He took a huge sip and said,
“God, I don’t know how I’m going to get through this night in one
piece.”
Evan walked over and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but the guy I’ve been seeing just
told me he thinks we should start seeing other people.” Cadin fin-
ished the drink in one swallow. “And we all know what that means.
He’s probably already seeing other people.”
“The guy with the child-bearing hips?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Evan said. “I thought everything was going
so well.” They’d all been so caught up in their own lives in the
past few months Evan realized they hadn’t been paying attention to
each other.
“He didn’t even have the decency to ask me out to lunch,” Ca-
din said. “He mentioned this to me on the phone.”
“Oh, not the phone.”
As Cadin nodded, Michele walked into the living room, took
one look at their expressions, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Evan wanted a drink now more than ever. “The guy Cadin has
been seeing told him he wants to see other people.”
Michele reached for his hand and said, “I’m so sorry. I know
how serious you were about this one.”
Evan noticed that although Cadin wasn’t thrilled about his situ-
ation, he sounded less upset than Michele. “I’m just sorry I told so
many people about it. I introduced him to my mother, and to the
rest of the family in Brooklyn. At first, I was a little worried be-
cause he’s a little effeminate and my family is still not used to me
being gay. But everything seemed to work out and I thought things
were going so well between us.”
“You poor thing,” Michele said. “I think we both need another
drink.”
Evan said, “You two sit down. I’ll get you both another mar-
tini. You’re out of vodka at the bar.” He knew Michele’s apartment
as well as he knew his own. He knew she kept several bottles of
vodka in the freezer at all times.
Michele’s apartment was large enough to have a private eat-in
kitchen off the dining room, with a swinging door so no one would
have to look at the kitchen during her candlelight dinner parties.
She tended to be more formal than most of Evan’s other friends,
who liked cooking in front of people with their open-concept kitch-
ens. Michele didn’t cook; she hired a chef. She believed kitchens
belonged at the back of the house, and only the hired help needed
to know what was going on inside them, not the guests. Although
Evan had always tended to be more informal, he had to admit there
was always something special about being invited to Michele’s
house for a dinner party. They were civilized events to be remem-
bered.
Of course he’d never forget this particular party. When he
went into the kitchen, he went directly to the freezer, pulled out
an unopened bottle of the best vodka money can buy, and opened
it so fast he almost twisted his wrist. He took one glance over his
right shoulder and another to the left, and then he lifted the bottle,
tilted his head back, and took a few swallows. The ice-cold booze
went down so well, and he felt such a surge of calm rush through
his body, he took a few more quick swallows and put the cap back
on the bottle. He told himself that’s all he would drink for the rest
of the night. He promised himself he’d only needed that quick
taste to calm his nerves. All the excuses he’d made to himself in
the past came rushing back and he didn’t think he’d done anything
wrong. After all, they were all falling apart right before his eyes. If
a person couldn’t take a small drink at a time like this, life simply
wasn’t worth living.
He returned the open bottle of vodka to the freezer and pulled
out another one that hadn’t been opened yet, and then he wiped
his lips and went back into the living room to join his friends. He
found them both on the sofa. Cadin was hugging Michele, and
Evan felt a sting of guilt because he’d just taken a drink and they
had no idea. He’d been an alcoholic long enough to hide what he’d
just done; he could look anyone in the eye and swear he hadn’t
been drinking. Like all alcohols, manipulation and lying became a
way of life.
While they sat on the sofa eating caviar and chopped egg, Evan
continued to make them martinis. By the time he’d finished mix-
ing the third pitcher, he poured himself a glass and sat down in an
armchair on the other side of the sofa without thinking about it.
Cadin’s voice started to slur a little. He wasn’t drunk, but he
wasn’t completely sober. “I swear to God this is the last time I’m
introducing anyone to my family unless I know it’s the real thing.”
Michele frowned and finished her martini. “Well, I swear to
God this is the last time I get involved with a guy without asking
him on the first date if he likes to suck dick.”
Cadin laughed so hard he fell backward.
Evan lifted his martini glass, finished what was left, and said,
“I think you should get it in writing, Michele.”
That remark should have made Cadin laugh harder. But he
didn’t. When he saw Evan sitting across from him holding an
empty martini glass, he frowned and said, “I can’t believe we let
you do that.”
Michele sent him a look. “I wasn’t paying attention.” She
closed her eyes and shook her head in a way that suggested utter
disapproval.
Evan laughed. He hadn’t felt this good in months. “Calm down,
guys. I’m good. I really am. I know how much I can handle. Seri-
ously.” With alcohol in his body he could talk himself into believ-
ing anything. He used to be able to talk other people into believing
anything. But it didn’t seem to be working anymore—at least, not
with the people who knew him the best.
There was still a little martini left in his glass. Cadin reached
for it and said, “You’ve had enough. I’m not going to sit here and
watch all the hard work you’ve done vanish in one night.”
Evan stood up before he could take the glass. He went to the
back of the sofa and Cadin followed him. “I’m fine, I really am.
It’s only one little drink.”
Cadin started to shout at him. He grabbed his arm and tried to
take the glass out of his hand with force. “Goddamn it, Evan. Give
me the fucking glass.”
Evan pushed him away. He started to shout, too. “Give me a
fucking break,” he said. “There’s no way I’m going to get through
this night with fucking club soda. You two are melting down before
my eyes, I’m now on the wrong side of thirty, my husband wants
an open marriage, and the guy I’ve been seeing who I thought was
so different just informed me he’s into three-ways. I need some-
thing to get through all that shit, and I’m going to have it.” Then he
lifted the glass and finished what was left in it.
Cadin turned to Michele and said, “Do something. Say some-
thing.”
Michele stood and turned. “Don’t do this, Evan. You know you
can’t drink anymore. When I picked you up, you told me in the car
that you’d never go back to Havilland again.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Evan said. “I’m tired of people
telling me what to do. I’d like to be treated with a little respect just
once in my life.”
Michele glared at him. “Then you need to earn it, because
you’re not getting any respect from me if you start drinking again.
I’m not joking this time, Evan. I can deal with a lot. I’m devastated
right now about getting dumped by a guy I thought I was in love
with. I know I’ll get over that eventually. But I’m not going to go
through another round with you drinking.”
“Fuck you,” Evan said.
Then the doorbell rang and all three of them stopped talking.
After a moment of silence, Evan said, “Is anyone going to answer
that?” His tone had lifted; he sounded as good as he felt. He only
wished they’d leave him alone and let him have just one or two
drinks this one time.
Michele turned and walked toward a small hallway at the front
of her apartment. From where they stood in the living room, they
couldn’t see who was at the door. Evan hugged Cadin and said,
“Stop being so serious. It’s going to be okay. I’m fine. I know what
I’m doing.”
Cadin didn’t seem convinced. He didn’t return the hug.
A second later, Michele returned and said, “It’s Kenny and two
friends.”
“Oh fuck,” Evan said. “I forgot to call Kenny and tell him
the party is off.” He thought for a moment. He’d only had a few
drinks; it wasn’t as though he was falling all over the place. While
Michele stood there waiting for him to speak, he walked to the
other side of the room, and said, “Just let them in. We’ll have our
own little party.”
As Michele turned to get Kenny and his friends, Evan
smoothed the front of his jacket and smiled at Cadin. “It’s fine,
don’t worry. I’ll be the model dad. The GLAAD father of the year.”
Cadin didn’t reply. He stood there staring at him with an ex-
pression that suggested he wasn’t sure what to expect next.
Chapter Fourteen
The moment Evan saw Kenny and two other people enter the
living room, his arms went up, he crossed the room to greet them,
and he started speaking in that eager-to-please-everyone animated
voice he only used when he’d been drinking. Although he’d never
been able to judge himself in this respect, people had always told
him he was a happy, playful drunk. At least in the beginning. The
more he drank the nastier he tended to become.
“There you are.” He threw his arms around Kenny and hugged
him.
Kenny seemed surprised, partly because Evan was so animated
and partly because the room was virtually void of other party
guests. “Where is everyone? Am I early?”
Evan winked at Michele, letting her know he would protect her
secret about getting dumped. “There was a change of plans, sweet-
ie. I’ll tell you later.” He hugged him again and said, “But I’m so
glad you’re here now.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Dad,” Kenny said, glancing over
Evan’s shoulder at Cadin.
Evan turned to the people Kenny had brought to the party. For
a moment, he couldn’t place them. Then it dawned on him these
were the two young people he’d met in the restaurant that after-
noon when Evan had pretended to be Kenny’s older brother. He
thought quickly and grabbed Kenny’s arm. “Do they know I’m
your father, not your brother?” He didn’t feel like playing games
that night.
Kenny laughed and said, “Yes. I told them the truth. They
know you’re my dad.”
Evan’s arms went up again. “It’s Candy and Grayson.” He
shook Candy’s hand and said, “I’ll bet you thought I’d forget your
names. But I never forget a name or a face.” Then he turned to
Grayson and hugged him. He squeezed young Grayson’s biceps,
took a quick breath, and said, “And I’d never forget a big, strong,
handsome guy like you.”
By that time, Kenny had walked to the other side of the liv-
ing room to where Michele was standing near the grand piano.
Evan noticed they both had serious expressions and said, “What’s
wrong? This is supposed to be a partly. You two look like it’s a
funeral.”
They didn’t say anything.
On the other side of the room, Evan noticed Cadin standing
beside the fireplace with the same ominous expression.
The only one in the room who seemed to be interested in hav-
ing fun was Grayson. He put his arm around Evan and said, “I
couldn’t believe it when Kenny said you were his dad. It freaking
blew me away. You’re so young and hot.”
Evan thought of something else that would blow him away, and
in a more literal sense. But he didn’t want to embarrass his son—
he wasn’t that drunk yet. He patted Grayson’s stomach and said,
“You be a good boy tonight, or else I’ll make you call me daddy.”
Then he laughed and patted Grayson on the ass.
While everyone stood there waiting to see what his next move
would be, Evan ignored them and he went over to the bar to mix
another pitcher of martinis. “Who wants to join me? A guy only
turns thirty once in a lifetime, after all.” It hadn’t occurred to him
yet that this was the first time Kenny had seen him drink since he’d
been discharged from Havilland. With that small amount of alcohol
all the promises he’d made vanished.
That’s when Kenny grabbed his arm and said, “Dad, I want to
talk to you in private. Let’s go into the kitchen.” He spoke softly,
through his teeth, trying to maintain his dignity so his friends
wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.
Evan noticed that handsome young Grayson had already found
the free food. Candy just stood there with a smile, as if she didn’t
know where to go. Evan hugged Kenny again and said, “I just want
to tell you how much I love you. You’re the best son anyone could
ever have. Sometimes I don’t think I say it often enough. And I
want you to know how I feel.”
In a lame attempt to repair the awkwardness that filled the
room, Michele jumped into the conversation and said, “I have tons
of food in the kitchen. Help me bring it out, Evan. I’m sure Kenny
and his friends are hungry.”
Evan reached for the pitcher and then a bottle of vodka. “I’ll be
right there, sweetie. I want to make another pitcher of martinis.”
She could be pushy that way, Michele. He wasn’t in the mood for
it.
Cadin glared at him and said, “Knock it off, Evan.”
When Evan heard the serious tone in Cadin’s voice, he returned
the glare and said, “Don’t you tell me what to do. How dare you?
This is my party and I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do.” He
wasn’t going to allow Cadin or anyone else to embarrass him in
front of Kenny and his friends. Although he would one day look
back on this night with utter shame, at the time he felt completely
in control and he didn’t like the way his good friends were treating
him in front of virtual strangers.
Candy stepped back and looked down at her shoes.
Grayson popped a caviar canapé into his mouth and reached for
another.
Michele said, “Let’s get the food, Evan. You need to eat some-
thing.” It sounded more like a demand than a polite request. Now
she was speaking through her teeth.
Evan poured the vodka right into his martini glass without
bothering to mix it with anything. He took a gulp and pointed at
Michele. “I’m getting a little fed up with you giving me orders,
Michele. If you want the goddam food go get it yourself. I’m not
hungry.” Then he slammed the glass on the bar so hard the stem
shattered.
Everyone went silent; they stood there staring at him as if they
were terrified of his next move. Poor Candy moved closer to the
wall and folded her arms. Even Grayson stopped eating caviar. He
swallowed and put his hands in his pockets.
When Evan realized what he’d done, he pressed his palms
to his face and said, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Michele. I’ll clean it up.”
He turned to Candy and laughed. “I guess I don’t know my own
strength.”
“Never mind,” Michele said. “I’ll take care of it. I guess I
shouldn’t have put out the Baccarat martini glasses.” She rolled her
eyes in Cadin’s direction, which really made Evan’s face feel hot.
“I said I was fucking sorry,” Evan said. This need to impress
and to brag about her crystal and other pretentious treasures had
always irritated Evan. So in order to get even with her, he turned
to Grayson and Candy and said, “It’s probably not Baccarat any-
way. I’ll bet it’s some cheap shit she bought at the dollar store like
everything else in this fucking dump.” He knew this would bother
her because nothing in that apartment was junk.
But after he said this, he regretted it. They all sent him such
a collective glance of unmistakable pity he felt like picking up
the shards of broken crystal and grinding them into his palms. He
walked over to Michele and put his arm around her. “I’m sorry,
sweetie. I didn’t mean that. I’ll buy you a whole new set.” He
looked up and told everyone else, “She really does have Baccarat.”
Before Michele could reply, Kenny took Evan by the arm and
said, “I think it’s time I took you home, Dad.”
“But the party is just beginning,” Evan said. He jerked away
from his son and walked over to Grayson. He put his arm around
Grayson’s waist and said, “I think we all need another drink. And
this big strong guy hasn’t had anything to eat yet.”
Grayson shrugged. He put his arm around Evan and pulled him
closer. “I’ll have a beer, man.”
Evan laughed and rested his head on Grayson’s chest. He liked
men who drank beer. Although he wouldn’t have done anything
with his son’s friend, he had to admit that receiving that kind of at-
tention on his thirtieth birthday from a younger man was flattering.
But Cadin didn’t seem to find this flattering or amusing. He
glared at Evan again and said, “I think you should let Kenny take
you home. There’s not going to be a party, Evan.”
Evan clenched his fists. “Don’t you ever tell me what to do,
Cadin. When we met you were nothing but a goddamn construc-
tion worker from Brooklyn, and don’t you forget that.”
“How could I forget it?” Cadin asked.
Evan didn’t understand.
Cadin walked over to Evan, reached for his hands, and said,
“I’ve always been in awe of you. If I hadn’t met you I don’t even
want to think about what my life would be like now. You’re every-
thing I’ve always wanted to be. You’re talented, smart, and gor-
geous. When you want to be, you’re a great father, husband, and
writer. I’m your biggest fan. But I’m not going to stand around
and watch you self-destruct again.” He squeezed his hands tighter.
“Not this time.”
Then Kenny said, “I want to find out what it is about drinking
you love so much, Dad. I’m serious. I’ve never fully understood it.
All those nights I heard you stumble home drunk and I would stay
in bed, thankful you’d come home safe. That’s right, I heard it all,
Dad. I didn’t miss a single thing. But I never understood it, and I
want to know what it’s like. I need to know.” He walked to the bar
and reached for the bottle of vodka Evan had left open.
Evan felt a pain deep in his stomach. Evidently, they were
going to dig up the past. “I didn’t know that. I thought you were
sleeping.” He thought he’d hidden all this from his son, at least
most of it. He’d worked so hard at it all those years. And all this
time Kenny had been listening and watching every move he’d
made, just as he’d done with his own alcoholic father. Evan won-
dered what his psychiatrist at Havilland would say now, because he
had no idea how to deal with it.
“It doesn’t matter,” Kenny said, with an expression of pure dis-
gust. “I’ll live. But I would like to know why you can’t live with-
out drinking.” He poured a full glass of vodka and stared at it.
Evan took a deep breath and exhaled. He walked over to the
bar and said, “Don’t, Kenny. I’ll go home with you now. I’m sorry.
We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Kenny lifted the drink, stared at it, and hesitated. Then he put
the drink down and said, “No more talking. I’m moving back to
Dad’s tomorrow. I thought things had changed, but I guess I was
wrong.”
Evan felt a sharp pain in his chest. He knew he’d fucked up
and there was no turning back now. He looked up and glanced
around the room. Candy and Grayson were sitting on the sofa, not
sure where to look. Cadin was near the piano with his arm around
Michele. For a moment, Evan felt a slight sense of relief. He knew
his good friends would be there for him in spite of what he’d done
that night. That’s how it had always worked. Kenny might not be
able to forgive him for years to come, but Cadin and Michele un-
derstood him and they would never turn their backs on him. They
might remain mad at him for a while, but never for long.
Then it dawned on him that his relationship with both Cadin
and Michele might have been part of his problem. They were such
good friends they never questioned him or gave him any ulti-
matums that lasted for long. They talked a good game, but they
let him get away with anything. Here they were again: all three
single, all three recently disappointed in relationships they prob-
ably knew wouldn’t work in the first place, and now they could
all wallow in self-pity. In fact, all three of them were so fucked up
that when they got together and sat around comparing sob stories,
they seemed to feed on the negative things instead of the positive
things. When Evan realized this was part of what he had been try-
ing to change in his life all along, he turned toward the front door
and said, “Let’s go home, Kenny.”
Oh, he wanted to have another drink. He wasn’t drunk enough,
not by any means. The craving overwhelmed him so much he felt
weak in the knees. But he knew, deep down, that if he could refrain
from having another drink that night he might be able to refrain for
the rest of his life. And even though Kenny might never forgive
him for this night, there might still be hope for the future. And that
was about all he had left.
“You can stay here if you want,” Michele said. Her tone had
softened by then. “I’ll make up the guest room.” She smiled at
Kenny. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.”
Cadin said, “It might be a good idea, Evan. We’ll make a pot of
coffee and talk for a while.”
Evan walked over to them and hugged them both. He kissed
them on the cheek and looked over his shoulder at Kenny. He
loved his friends, but knew they were part of his problem. He
smiled and said, “I think I’d rather go home with my son. I’ll be
fine. That is if my son still wants to go home with me.”
At that moment, Kenny had been staring down at the floor,
with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side. It
reminded Evan of the way he’d stood in line at school when he’d
been a child. Evan used to walk him to school every morning and
he’d kiss him good-bye at the gate. But Evan never left right away.
Evan had stood behind a fence where no one could see him, watch-
ing his son get in line with the other kids, making sure he was
safe. Not even Kenny knew this, and it was something Evan would
never tell anyone.
Kenny looked up and sent Evan a smile. “Of course I want to
go home with you.”
*****
When they were outside on the street, Kenny put Candy and
Grayson in a taxi and told them he’d call them in the morning.
Then Kenny and Evan started walking downtown, hoping to find
another cab. There didn’t seem to be that many around, and those
that passed were already occupied. So Kenny suggested they take
the subway and Evan agreed it was the fastest way to get home.
Evan could still feel the effect of the vodka he’d had, but not to
the point of slurring his words or staggering while he walked. The
worst part was he still wanted more, yet knew he couldn’t do that.
They didn’t speak much on the subway. They sat next to each
other, facing forward with their hands on their laps during the ride
downtown. Evan was too exhausted to talk about anything and
Kenny seemed deep in thought. Evan had no idea what he was
thinking and he didn’t want to push his luck anymore that night.
He knew he’d disappointed his son, and he’d already accepted the
fact that he might not be able to change his mind about moving
back to Jeffery’s. But more important, Evan knew it might be the
best thing for Kenny to move back with Jeffery.
When the subway dropped them off about three blocks from
Evan’s apartment and they were on the street again, Evan reached
for Kenny’s hand and said, “I’m really sorry about tonight. I know
I can’t make it up to you. I know I said I’d never drink again. But
everything just started to get too confusing. I wish I had an expla-
nation for you to make you understand. But I don’t.”
They’d just passed a group of three guys leaning against the
side of a building with a long, narrow, dark alley. Evan had no idea
that when he’d reached for Kenny’s hand one of the guys leaning
against the building had seen him do this. Evan was still holding
Kenny’s hand when the three guys walked up behind them and one
of them said, “Isn’t this adorable? Two little fags walking hand in
hand down the street.” He glanced at his two buddies, made a fist,
brought it to his lips, and made a blow job gesture.
Kenny stopped and pulled his hand out of Evan’s.
Evan felt a lump in his throat and a surge of panic shot through
his entire body. He turned and said, “This is my son, not my boy-
friend. Don’t be an asshole.”
The big guy with a deep voice grabbed Evan’s arm and
laughed. “I’ll bet you’re a good daddy to your son. I’ll bet you take
good care of your boy when you get down on your knees and suck
his cock. You’ve got that kind of mouth, with those full lips that
were made to suck cock.”
“Let go of me,” Evan said. “He is my son. We live a few blocks
from here.” He worked hard to remain calm, trying not to antago-
nize them.
Kenny made a face and tightened his fists. “Let go of him.”
The last thing Evan wanted to see was his son get into a fight.
He knew these guys were capable of serious harm. Their type had
no regard for human life. All they wanted that night was something
to amuse them.
They all laughed at Kenny and one of them pushed him back-
ward. He landed on the sidewalk and the biggest one grabbed the
back of Evan’s neck and said, “This sure is one pretty daddy. I’ll
bet he’ll know how to take good care of us.” He shook Evan and
asked, “Don’t you? I’ll be you could take on me and my buddies.”
Kenny was still on the sidewalk. The other two guys wouldn’t
let him get up. Each time he sat up, they pushed him backward
with their feet.
Evan said, “Let him go. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t
hurt him.”
Kenny stood up and pushed one of the guys into a street lamp.
He looked at Evan and said, “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
One of the guys put his arm around Kenny and said, “I think
this one wants to play. I’ll bet he knows how to take good care of
a man, just like his daddy.” Then the other guy grabbed Kenny by
the waist and pretended to fuck him from behind.
Evan felt his chest growing tighter and his face warmer. He’d
walked down this street hundreds of times and nothing like this
had ever happened to him. When Evan saw one of the guys put his
hand on Kenny’s ass, something happened to him that was hard
to explain. He remembered all the things he’d learned while he’d
been at the boxing gym on Delancey Street. A good deal of the
time he’d spent working out there he’d watched the amateur fight-
ers train. At the time he’d only watched because he it had aroused
him to see cute sweaty guys bounce around in their boxing shorts
with no shirts. He had no idea he’d been taking in their moves and
learning how to fight at the same time. When the biggest guy tried
to put his hand down the back of Kenny’s pants, Evan jerked side-
ways, braced for battle with both fists, and swung his right fist so
hard and so fast, the big homophobic idiot never saw it coming.
Chapter Fifteen
When Jeffery arrived at the hospital, he found Evan and Kenny
in the emergency room sitting side by side on a hospital bed in a
small room draped off from other identical rooms with half cur-
tains. He said the police had notified him. They’d told him that
Evan and Kenny had been involved in a street fight and they were
being transported to the hospital.
For the first time in years, Evan saw panic on Jeffery’s hand-
some face. He must have been at a formal dinner that night be-
cause he was still wearing a tuxedo. When he walked into the small
room and saw them both sitting on the bed with bandages and
bloodstains on their clothes, he grabbed a metal table and his knees
looked as if they were going to buckle.
Evan lifted his arms and said, “We’re okay. It’s not as bad as it
looks. It could have been a lot worse.” The poor guy lost all color
in his face.
“What happened?” Jeffery asked.
Kenny’s head went up. “You should have seen Dad fight. He
kicked ass. Seriously.” He couldn’t speak clearly. His lip had been
stitched and the swelling had not gone down. Though he’d stood
and watched most of the fighting, he looked a little worse than
Evan.
Jeffery walked over to the bed and lifted his arms as if to hug
Kenny. He hesitated first, as if unsure about whether or not he
could touch him. He glanced at Kenny’s bruised face and said,
“My God. I didn’t know what to expect. The police just told me
to come here.” Then he moved forward and hugged Kenny gently,
barely touching him.
Evan reached for Jeffery’s arm and squeezed it lightly. Then he
told Jeffery what had happened and shrugged. “I had to do some-
thing,” he said. When he thought about what they could have done
to Kenny he still felt a pain in his gut. “So I did what I had to do.”
“I’d like to speak with the police,” Jeffery said.
“They took statements, asked for descriptions, and then left,”
Evan said. “The guys who attacked us got away and there wasn’t
much they can do. They said they’d be in touch.”
“I’ll call my attorney tomorrow,” Jeffery said. “I want those
bastards to pay for this.”
Kenny’s swollen face took on an animated look. He was so
excited he could hardly contain his emotions. “After Dad hit him,
the big dude pulled a knife on us,” he said. “And dad freaking
pulverized him. Dude, you should have seen it. Dad punched him
in the gut, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back so fast
he didn’t know what to do.” Kenny laughed. “They never thought
we’d fight back. But Dad really fucked them up.”
“Don’t use that language, Kenny,” Evan said. “It’s common.”
Jeffery put his arms around Evan this time and hugged him
tighter than Kenny. What happened next sent a chill down Evan’s
back. Jeffery rested his head on Evan’s shoulder and started to sob.
“They could have killed you both. Why on Earth were you walking
around that late? Why didn’t you at least take a cab? You know if
you need a car I’ll send one at any time.”
Evan and Kenny exchanged a glance. Then Kenny said, “The
party got canceled because Michele got dumped and we couldn’t
find a cab. I was the one who made dDad take the subway. He
didn’t want to and I forced him to do it.” Then he sent Evan a smile
and winked. It was evident he didn’t want Jeffery to know about
the argument or that Evan had been drinking that night.
But Evan smiled at his son and said, “That’s not exactly how it
happened,” and then he told Jeffery the truth, from the drinks he’d
had earlier that night to the scene he’d made at Michele’s house.
He couldn’t let his son take the blame. If he hadn’t been drinking
this might not have happened. “I’m not proud of what I did. And
Kenny thinks it might be best all the way around if he moved back
in with you permanently.”
Before Kenny or Jeffery could reply, the doctor came into the
room to check them out before they could be discharged. She was
a middle-aged woman with a pinched expression and it didn’t take
long for her to pat them on the back and send them on their way.
The emergency room was so crowded that night with other pa-
tients, there was no time for small talk.
When she left, Kenny jumped off the bed and Jeffery helped
Evan get down. They hadn’t broken any bones, but Evan felt so
sore he had trouble moving his legs. He tried to make light of his
injuries but he continued to hold Jeffery’s arm until they were out
on the street. He didn’t even complain when Jeffery helped him get
into the Town Car he had waiting outside in front of the hospital.
All Evan wanted to do was go home and get into bed and sleep for
the next three days.
But Jeffery told the driver to take them to the townhouse, not
back to Evan’s apartment. He turned to Evan and said, “I want you
home, at least for tonight. No arguments.” From his deadpan tone,
he meant business.
Evan wanted to go back to his apartment. But he didn’t want to
bicker with Jeffery in front of Kenny, so he nodded, sat back in the
seat, and looked out the window.
On the way to the townhouse, Jeffery asked more questions
about what had happened that night. Then he said, “I want those
criminals caught and arrested. I’ll hire a private detective if I have
to.”
Kenny did most of the talking. “While Dad was kicking the shit
out of them, some dude saw what was happening and he called the
cops. One of them heard it and he grabbed the other guy and those
two ran down an alley. But Dad was still pulverizing the big one,
so he couldn’t get away. Finally he heard the sirens and he gave
Dad a push and ran down the alley before the cops got there.”
Evan sighed. “The police are still looking. They said they
might never find them.” He shrugged in defeat. “They said they’d
stay in touch.”
Jeffery put his arm around Evan and pulled him closer. “I’m
just glad no one got hurt. I don’t even want to think about what
might have happened.”
When the car pulled up to the house, Kenny climbed out first
and he opened the front door while Jeffery helped Evan climb up
the front steps. It was one of those large townhouses made out of
limestone, with a kitchen on the lower level and the living and for-
mal dining room on the main floor. There were six floors altogether
and Jeffery had installed an elevator when they’d renovated it.
When they were inside, Kenny hugged them both and he went
up to his bedroom. Evan wanted to go upstairs with him, but he
insisted he was fine. He seemed to understand they needed to talk
and he didn’t want to intrude. Before he went up, he hugged Evan
one last time and said, “Thanks for saving me, Dad. Those guys
could have killed us. You were freaking awesome. I’m not sure
about moving out now.”
Evan hugged his son and said, “Let’s talk about it in the morn-
ing. It’s late, we’re exhausted, and we need to rest.” He didn’t want
to get into this now. He still felt Kenny might be better off living
with Jeffery after what had happened.
The moment Kenny disappeared from sight Jeffery led Evan
into a large living room with stark modern furniture, gray marble
floors, and mirrored tables. He put his arms around him, kissed him
on the mouth, and held him so tightly the bruises on Evan’s face
started to hurt. Evan sensed his shock and he did not complain. But
he did step back when Jeffery tried to put his hands down the back
of his pants.
“I’m sleeping in the guest room,” Evan said. “As much as I
love you, I’m not sleeping with you anymore. Not ever again.”
He’d come to the conclusion that there would be no more sex with
Jeffery. This open marriage situation wasn’t working and he had
no intention of living this way any longer. “I can’t do this, Jeffery.
I think we should get a divorce and make a clean break. I’ll always
love you, but I know I’ll never change you. It’s the best thing for
all of us. I can’t do this to Kenny anymore either.” This part hurt
so much Evan’s stomach ached, and not from the bruises he’d
received that night. He’d always thought he might be the one man
alive to change Jeffery. It was evident to him now that would not
happen.
“It’s the boxing teacher, isn’t it?” Jeffery said. His head re-
mained down, and he couldn’t look Evan in the eye. “You’re in
love with him.”
“Of course not,” Evan said. He almost laughed. “He’s a great
guy, but I’m not in love with him. There’s no one else. I’m still in
love with you. But nothing’s going to change.”
Jeffery lifted his head and looked him in the eye. He hesitated
for a moment. Then he said, “I don’t want a divorce. I love you and
I want my family together.”
Evan felt a sting in his eye. He didn’t want to cry, but couldn’t
help it. He reached for Jeffery’s hand and held it. “There’s no other
way. The way we are right now is killing me. And it’s not helping
Kenny.”
“When the police called me tonight and told me what had hap-
pened I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” Jeffery said.
“And you know better than anyone that nothing scares me all that
much. But this time I had no idea what I’d find in that hospital. The
things that ran through my head were my worst nightmares. It’s a
good thing I wasn’t driving because I would have been speeding
on sidewalks. When I saw you both sitting there so helpless and
bruised, I felt as if I’d been given a second chance.” He stopped
talking long enough to get down on one knee. He glanced up
at Evan and held both of his hands. “I want you to come home.
Please don’t give up on our family or on me. I need you both. No
more open marriage, no more playing around. I’ll do whatever you
want.”
Evan’s eyes opened wider. It was the last thing he’d expected
to hear. He slowly went down on his knees so he could look Jef-
fery in the eye. His husband looked so handsome and so vulnerable
at that moment, Evan felt a tug in his chest. “Are you saying that
if I move back, all this open marriage business is over for good?
Because that’s the only way I can do it, Jeffery. I’m not cut out to
share the man I love with other men. I know it works for some, but
not for me. It’s as plain and simple as that.” He caressed Jeffery’s
cheek and smiled. “And I do love you. I don’t even know how to
tell you how much I love you.”
“I promise,” Jeffery said. “No more open marriage, no more
screwing around with other guys. If that’s what it takes to get you
home and get this family back together, that’s what I’ll do.”
Evan still wasn’t certain about this. He wasn’t sure if Jeffery
could be monogamous. But he had to fight for his family and he
had to take the chance. He was old enough now to have picked up
a few things along the way. He knew nothing in life was perfect,
and every marriage and relationship had a few flaws. So he put his
arms around Jeffery and rested his head on his shoulder. He kissed
Jeffery’s neck and said, “I’ll come home. I want to try to make it
work, more than anything else. But I’m serious about the condi-
tions. I want monogamy or nothing.” He knew he could never
change some things about Jeffery, but he had to know he would be
monogamous.
Jeffery held him tighter and said, “I love you and I won’t let
you down this time.”
“Are you really serious about this?” Evan asked, still not con-
vinced.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my life. I’ll
do whatever it takes.”
A sharp pain shot up Evan’s leg, where one of the guys had
kicked him during the altercation on the street. “I love you, too.
But you’re killing my leg right now. I need to get to bed.”
As if he’d just realized Evan’s pain for the first time, Jeffery
released him and stood up. He took off his tuxedo jacket, threw it
on the floor, and bent down. He put one arm under Evan’s shoul-
ders and one under his legs, and then he lifted him up off the floor
and said, “I’m so sorry. After what you’ve been through tonight I
should have known better.”
Evan put his arms around his husband’s shoulders and laced
his fingers together at the back of his neck. He kissed him and said,
“Let’s go to bed now. We’ve both been through a lot tonight and
you look exhausted.”
As Jeffery carried him to the elevator in the hallway, he didn’t
seem exhausted. When the elevator door opened and they stepped
inside, Jeffery turned sideways and Evan pressed the button that
would lead them up to the fourth floor to the private master suite.
When the door closed, they kissed until the elevator stopped and
the door opened again. Jeffery carried him to the bed without mak-
ing a face or showing any signs of strain. Then Jeffery lowered him
to the bed so gently Evan hardly felt the mattress when it touched
his back.
When Jeffery reached down to unbuckle Evan’s pants, Evan
threw his arms behind his head, stretched, and arched his back so
Jeffery could pull his pants down. Although his body ached, he
could deal with the pain this time. He didn’t crave a drink and he
didn’t feel overwhelmed by anything. All he wanted that night, and
for the rest of his life, was to be with his husband and his family,
the only real dream he’d ever had.
THE END
About the Author
Ryan Field is the author of over 100 published works of LGBT
fiction on goodreads.com, the best selling Virgin Billionaire
series, a pg rated hetero romance that was featured on The
Home Shopping Network titled, “Loving Daylight,” and a few
more works of full length LGBT suspense with the pen name
Dale Bishop. He’s worked in publishing for twenty years as a
writer, editor, and associate editor. His work has been in Lambda
Award winning anthologies and his most recent series for
ravenousromance.com is concentrated on bad boy billionaire rakes
and the men who love to love them. You can read more about him
at www.ryan-field.blospot.com where he tries to post something
new daily.
Copyright Information
A Ravenous Romance© Original Publication
Copyright © 2013 by Ryan Field
Ravenous Romance
100 Cummings Center
Suite 123A
Beverly, MA
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in
whole or in part without written permission from the publisher,
except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection
with a review.
ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-544-7
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons
living or dead is purely coincidental..
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