“I don’t know if I can put it into words. I can feel it, though. You hesitate and think about all the ways something can go wrong. Maybe it’s a business trick that bleeds into other aspects of life.”
“Don’t you think everyone does that to a degree?” he scoffed.
“Of course, but I don’t care about them. I care about you. And I have a theory.”
“Oh?’’
“I think you did one thing for yourself five years ago. You came out. You hurt some people, you lost some people. And in penance for their pain, you deny yourself the things you really want.” I waited a beat before pushing. “Am I right?”
“Maybe,” he conceded, glancing out the window. “I don’t know anymore.”
He was telling the truth. I’d bet big bucks he hadn’t realized he’d been punishing himself for being…different. I sensed deep-seated fear or guilt that I really didn’t think had anything to do with his children. But there was only so much digging one could do in a golf clubhouse bar during happy hour.
So I let it go.
Sean had big plans to show me around town on Saturday. He wanted to walk in the morning before the early May sun made it feel like the middle of summer. After a little exercise, we’d hit a couple of galleries and have lunch at a restaurant owned by one of his friends. He said I’d be impressed by the food, ambience, and the hot waiters. I smiled and told him I’d go wherever he wanted.
We didn’t go anywhere. We had groceries delivered and sat poolside, sipping margaritas and talking about…everything. Funny enough, we set well-trodden topics aside, like his kids and my band, and delved into offbeat things like the details involved in sci-fi world-building and what job you’d take if you had to work in a circus.
We tried to build our own planet, but we couldn’t decide on the name. However, we did agree that the circus would be more like a talent show with costumes. No animals involved. And because it was our idea, we could be the opening act. Juggling, card tricks…don’t ask how we got there, but I had tears in my eyes when he insisted he’d be in charge of the ticket booth.
It was so easy to be with Sean…to talk to him and laugh with him. We ate chips and guac under the sun, listening to an eclectic blend of jazz and pop music while dissecting plotlines from our favorite movies and TV shows. When the heat became unbearable, we moved an umbrella to the edge of the pool and sat side by side with our feet in the cool water, watching the ribbons of sunset fade in the sky.
Staring up at the inky darkness dotted with a million stars, I wanted to pinch myself. It seemed highly improbable that of all the people in the world, he was the one who fit me best. On the surface, we had nothing in common, but he was the very space between silence and the first hum of music. He was hard edges and rough terrain, but he was also the sweetest soul I’d ever met, with depths I probably needed two lifetimes to explore. And damn, I wanted at least one.
The thought that I might only get a month or two more stung like hell. I’d met famous athletes, movie stars, and fellow musicians who claimed to love me and my band. I’d been told over and over that Zero was on its way to the top and that I could literally have anything and anyone I wanted.
All I wanted was him.
Sean must have been thinking the same thing. He smiled in the dark and draped his arm over my shoulders. He kissed my cheek and nuzzled my ear. I turned slightly to press my lips to his. We went still for a moment or two, fused together with no sense of urgency, letting the tender connection slowly build.
Gentle licks and nips morphed into probing, hungry sweeps of tongues and a fervent desire to be as close as humanly possible. We stumbled into the house through the bank of sliding glass doors in a tangle of limbs, groping at each other wantonly.
“Upstairs,” he growled, biting my bottom lip, then leading the way.
We collided along the wide hallway. I almost knocked a frame from the wall when I lost my balance stripping my swim trunks off outside the bedroom door. Sean caught my elbow to steady me and carried me into the room. He set me on my feet and turned on a bedside lamp, flooding the space with soft light.
The room was luxurious, though a bit austere. It reminded me of a presidential suite at a posh hotel with fancy art on the walls, shiny mirrored surfaces, and the ginormous flat-screen TV opposite the king-sized bed. Even the view outside was lush. The huge window overlooked the sixteenth green…or something like that. Not that I’d given it more than a cursory glance. I’d spent a lot of time staring up at the cathedral ceilings with my legs around Sean’s waist or white-knuckling the iron headboard over the past twenty-four hours…and I was not complaining.