The Man I Love (The Fish Tales, #1)(33)

Will returned to reading, engrossed, the fingertips of one hand rubbing along his hairline. From the easy chair, Erik watched James become silent and still. His focus was on his book but his hand rested on Will’s shin in a manner both mindlessly casual and deliberately proprietary. Erik felt an involuntary squint of his eyes, along with a strong but confusing urge to defend his territory. He couldn’t take his eyes from James’s hand. Outlined white against Will’s jeans. The flat ridge of shin bone against his palm, fingertips curved around calf muscle. Slowly moving back and forth. Up toward Will’s knee. Down toward his ankle. Up toward his knee again, going further this time, fingers kneading.

My mind is open, Erik thought, with some defiance. After three years in a conservatory program at a fine arts university, he was completely accustomed to gay men being part of his daily life. He had it worked out. They were them. He was him. He knew when to make jokes and when to be cool. He had nothing but the utmost respect for Kees, and considered him a close friend.

True, there had been uncomfortable moments with a few of the more aggressive types. Boys with overt tactics, looking more to provoke and shock than to connect. It pissed him off, but he knew better than to make a scene. The conservatory thrived on gossip. One good altercation and he’d never hear the end of it. It was better to turn off and not engage. Harder. But better. He got used to it. And as long as homosexuality wasn’t blatantly and personally in his face, he rarely gave it more than five seconds thought.

My mind is open, he thought again, watching James’s hand stroking Will’s leg.

Just stay out of my face.

Erik closed and stacked his books. Without a word he put on his jacket and shoes.

“Going home?” James asked.

“I live here, remember?” Erik said.

Will looked up. “Goodnight, Fish.”

“Night, ladies,” Erik said. And then wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He went out, walked through the hedge into Daisy’s backyard, up the steps into her kitchen, where the teakettle was whistling. Erik shut off the flame and moved the kettle to a back burner.

“Oh, here you are,” Daisy said, coming in. Her hair was damp. She had on a pair of Erik’s flannel pajama bottoms and a tight white T-shirt. “Do you want tea?”

“No,” Erik said, walking by her and taking her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Up.”

“You’re not even going to say hello?”

He turned, took her face and kissed her. “Hello.” He walked through the living room, pulling her along.

“Are we in a mood?”

“We are.”

“I only have one condom here. Just so you know.”

“At the moment, one is all I need.”

She laughed, following him up the stairs. “Since we’re on the subject. I mean, I was going to wait until your birthday to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I went on the pill.”

Erik turned around and looked down at her.

She smiled at him. “I just started. You’re supposed to keep up a second method for the first month. But then…”

He kept staring at her. She stepped up, level with him, and touched his bottom lip. “I can’t wait,” she said. “Nothing between us.”

Erik closed his eyes. “Get up there,” he whispered.





Epiphany, Part Two


“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” Daisy whispered later. Her naked body curled up against his side, head on his chest. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” His body was relaxed but his mind was tangled in knots. He turned the snarl over and over, unable to find an end to draw out.

“You keep looking out the window to your place. Is his car still there?” Her tone was teasing and Erik put the pillow over his face. She peeked under it. “You think they’re hooking up?”

“I don’t want to know.”

“But you can’t stop thinking about it.”

Erik took the pillow and bopped her lightly on the head. “Stop knowing me.”

She laughed. “I’m sort of fascinated with it myself. Am I a voyeur?”

“Go over and voyeur away. Feel free.”

“I kind of want to,” she said absently.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Two men having sex?”

“I mean, Lucky’s your best friend.”

Daisy pushed up on her elbow, her fingers in Erik’s chest hair. “She is. And in a manner of speaking, so is Will.”

“So what if Will is hooking up with James? Is it cheating?”

Her chin rose and fell. “In the strictest sense, I guess it is, yes.”

“Would you tell her?”

“I don’t know. Right now I have nothing to tell. And you don’t either.” Her hand caressed his face, her thumb moving along his eyebrows and trying to smooth the wrinkle of worry between them. “But I can tell it’s bothering you.”

“No, it’s not,” Erik said. And then, because he was bothered, and because ultimately he laid all his troubles at her feet, he sighed against her hand and said, “Yeah, it is.”

“It’s not like there’s never been speculation about Will being bisexual. David would put money on it.”