Beautiful boy (37 page)

I was grateful for the working out I’d done. I lifted myself up and peered through the window.

And let go, dropping in shock.

I’d only gotten a glimpse, but I’d seen sealed boxes. I lifted myself again and looked around. Most of it looked normal, except the packed boxes in front of his bookshelves. I realized the bookshelves were empty, as well as his entertainment center.

Kyle, whta’s gongi on?
I typed and hit Send so fast, I didn’t get a chance to correct my misspelling.

What do you mean?

Fuck! I paced the little lobby again, looking down at my phone. I backed out of the message conversation with Kyle and considered my options. I didn’t really want to tell him I’d been peeking into his place. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him. But something was up, something big. Something he didn’t want to tell me for some reason. I could try Mike or Nash, but I didn’t want him to think I was going behind his back either.

I hit his name again.
What’s taking so long for you to get home?

At least he was still replying.
Traffic
.

Okay, I’d certainly run into plenty on my way there.
Why don’t I go get some dinner and meet you back here?
I held my breath as I waited.

Really, Master, it’s okay. I’m just going to take some of this NyQuil and go bed
.

He didn’t want me. I didn’t know what I’d done, why he didn’t trust me with this, but he didn’t want me. I resisted the urge to punch a wall and instead replied.
I don’t mind. I can still watch over you.

You don’t need to. It’s okay. Go home and I’ll call you tomorrow.

I didn’t think he would. For whatever reason, he was pulling away from me. My heart sinking, I replied.
Ok. Let me know if you need anything.

I will. Love you
.

Those two words—and the fact that he’d said them first—were the only things keeping me from freaking out entirely.

Love you too.

BY FRIDAY
night, I was a complete basket case. He still hadn’t called. I was trying to give him the space he apparently needed, but that space was killing me.

I still didn’t understand why he wasn’t talking to me. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was going on. We still traded texts, but those had been few, with little more than his health. He claimed he still wasn’t feeling well. Except he’d be on day four of whatever this was, and I didn’t believe for one minute he was sick enough to be out of touch that long.

Still, I didn’t push. I didn’t show up at the loft again, and I didn’t try to call. I figured if he was ready to talk to me, if he was going to come to me, he would.

But it was killing me. I missed him so much, it wasn’t funny. It had only been a few days, but with the worry and uncertainty, the distance between us felt ocean-sized. Galaxy-sized. And I felt like I’d lost an arm or something.

I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to the text conversations, pictures, phone calls, simple
contact
until I didn’t have it. I’d fallen head over heels with him, and I was man enough to admit I was terrified I was losing him.

Mom and Cam both tried to tell me to just have patience, that he’d work through it. I knew Cam thought I was being crazy since Kyle and I hadn’t been together that long. He didn’t say it, though, and I was grateful. Instead, he told me to just give Kyle space, remind him I was there for him, and relax.

Well, I did the first two. The third wasn’t so easy. I had no idea how I was going to get through the weekend. I figured I could throw myself into work and try to get some things done I’d been putting off. But that was about all I could do.

With a sigh, I started my e-mail client to do just that. Except before I could click on the first e-mail, my cell phone rang. I practically dove for it. My heart sank when the ringtone wasn’t Kyle’s—Depeche Mode’s “Master and Servant”—but I raised my eyebrows when I saw the name.
Nash Tucker
.

I swiped my thumb over the screen. “Malcolm Tate.”

Kyle

THE PING
of my instant messaging client dragged my gaze away from the beige walls of Master Nash’s guest room.

LadiesMan14295:
You know I love you in a completely platonic, bro sort of way, right?

I glared at Mike’s message, knowing it couldn’t herald anything good.
Yeah, why?

LadiesMan14295:
Because you’re being a class A asshole.

It took me a moment to reply, I was too stunned. What had I done to Mike?
Uh… what?

LadiesMan14295:
You’re being an asshole. I can’t believe I’m the one telling you this. When was the last time you talked to him?

I sighed. I didn’t have to ask who Mike was referring to. I still hadn’t figured out how to tell Mal what had happened, and I still didn’t have a permanent place to live. Wednesday night I’d crashed on Mike’s couch. I was going to go to a hotel, but Mike insisted I didn’t need to spend the money. Since I knew I’d need to save every penny, I didn’t argue too much.

Yesterday, Mike made a call to Master Nash and asked if he still had a guest room. Master Nash said he’d be happy for me to take it for as long as I wanted, though I didn’t want to put him out. No one wanted houseguests for long. I tried to offer him money to stay there, but he refused, telling me to save it for now. It’d taken a lot to convince him not to call Mal, that I had my reasons for not going to him. Nash didn’t like it, but in the end, he respected my wishes.

All I had with me was my laptop, phone and charger, some of my clothes, a few toiletries, and very little else. The rest of my stuff was sitting in a storage unit I’d rented on Wednesday before going to Mike’s. I’d left all my furniture in the loft, taking only the smaller stuff. It’d filled my car and Mike’s to get everything, including my television, which I kept because I’d bought it.

It had taken all of Tuesday and Wednesday to pack. Thursday, I’m ashamed to admit, I was so messed up emotionally, I spent the day on Mike’s couch watching old reruns of
I Love Lucy
on TV Land.

But Mike had called Nash for me, and a day later I was sitting in the guest room, laptop open as I tried to figure out where to begin to look for a place to live. I appreciated the use of his guest room, but I knew it couldn’t be long term. I still needed to find an apartment, still needed to get settled before I could tell Master what was going on.

LadiesMan14295:
*poke*

I haven’t called him yet.

LadiesMan14295:….

Don’t give me that. You know why I can’t call him.

LadiesMan14295:
Bullshit.

I thought you understood.

LadiesMan14295:
I get what you think. I’m calling bullshit on it. I don’t think Mal would want you at Nash’s and I think he’d want you with him.

I scowled in frustration.
Are you being deliberately obtuse?

LadiesMan14295:
Yeah, because that’ll help you.

Fuck you.

LadiesMan14295:
*grin* I don’t play for your team. Look, you need to call him. Maybe make it clear you’ve got a place for now and you still need some space to work stuff out, but I’m willing to bet my next paycheck he thinks you don’t want him anymore.

I blinked at that. It hadn’t occurred to me Mal would take it that way.

Shit. You really think he thinks that?

LadiesMan14295:
*shrug* I don’t know for sure, but it’s how I’d think.

I sighed again. While Mike wasn’t gay, I didn’t doubt he would probably feel the same way Mal would in a situation like this. I pushed my hand through my hair as I tried to think of what to do. What could I tell him?

What do I tell him? What do I say for why I’ve been dodging him all week?

LadiesMan14295:
That I can’t tell you, man. But I think there should be some serious “Sorry” involved and possibly an offer or three to bend over for that paddle you bought him.

I definitely deserved it. I’d broken every rule he’d given me, more than once, over the course of the week. But more than that, I hadn’t trusted him, trusted in the relationship we’d already built—and he’d proven it was something I
could
trust.

Fuck. I really fucked this up, didn’t I?

LadiesMan14295:
Yup.

You don’t have to be so smug.

Mike didn’t answer that.

Okay, okay, I’ll call. afk.

I picked up my phone and swallowed hard around my suddenly arid throat. He was going to be pissed at me. And he had every right. With shaking hands, I woke it up, unlocked it, and hit Master’s icon on the main screen. I had to swallow a couple more times, then take a deep breath before I hit the phone icon.

If he didn’t answer, if he didn’t want me anymore, it would be my own damned fault. After this week, he’d have every right to walk away from me. I felt so
stupid
.

I’m not entirely sure I even heard the phone ring.

“Baby?” Mal said, what could only be a few seconds after I’d dialed.

“Hi, Mal,” I said, trying not to let my voice shake.

I couldn’t miss the relief in his voice if I tried. “Oh God, baby, I’m so glad you called. How are you? Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”

Well, he didn’t sound pissed. My heart calmed a little. He sounded just like he said—worried. My guilt ratcheted up and I felt worse. I had to swallow a few times before I could speak. So worried I’d lose him and then I treated him like that. I really was an idiot. “I’m… getting there.” I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Lewis outed me to my parents.”

“That rat bastard!”

I couldn’t resist a smile. “Yes, he really is a rat,” I agreed. “Mother asked me about it Monday night. I… didn’t want to lie. Well, it’s weird. If I’d told her the truth, I wouldn’t have had to tell her about you. ’Cause Lewis said he saw us kissing.”

“We weren’t kissing.”

“Right. Not that time.” I sighed. “But I certainly
have
kissed you in that elevator. So… I told her. I told her I had a b-boyfriend.” I stuttered over that last word, worried I didn’t anymore. “And that I was gay.”

“And they disowned you,” Mal said.

It wasn’t a question, but I still said, “Yes. And, uh, kicked me out of the loft.”

The string of words that came from Mal following that didn’t bear repeating. He fell silent for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

I paused, trying to figure out how to explain. In the end, there was only one thing
to
say. “I should have. I don’t… I didn’t trust in us. I’m sorry.” I wanted him to say something like
it’s okay
or
I understand
, but he probably didn’t understand, and I didn’t deserve the okay.

He gave me neither. “Where are you now?”

“Master Nash’s. He has a spare bedroom.”

“Oh, baby, why there? You should come to me. You should have come to me.”

“I should have told you. I know. I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath. “I… I need to do this. I don’t want to be a-a burden…. Or for you to…. I mean…. Fuck,” I bit off, closing my eyes.

“Hey, you’re not. You never could be. I want you here, baby.”

I knew he’d say this, but I still wasn’t sure I believed him. “But… you’ve… I mean, you never said you wanted… that… with me.”

“I didn’t think you were ready for it. I didn’t think you wanted to try to explain to your parents why you were moving.”

Well, duh. I smacked my forehead, feeling even more monumentally stupid. Even so, I still didn’t know how I could be sure he
wanted
me, wasn’t just doing it because he thought he should. “Can…. Can I have a few days to think about it?”

He didn’t answer right away, and I swallowed, heart speeding up at his hesitation. “If you need to. I can… I can wait. Okay.”

I let out a breath. “Okay. Thank you. I… I love you, Mal. I just… I’m just trying to—”

“Hey, hey, I get it. It’s okay. I love you too, baby.”

“Thank you for understanding,” I said, though it came out softly.

“How about this. You remember Sunday is the New Year’s Eve party at the Asylum, right?”

I groaned. “Shit, I forgot.”

“Nash said he’s going to be there. Why don’t you ride with him and at least stay the night with me?”

I licked my lip to avoid biting it, trying to think it through. But really, that was no different than any other night I’d gone to stay with him. “Okay, I will. Uh… did you still want to put me up for auction?”

“Yup. I’ll be sure to buy you.”

I laughed. “Again.”

“Again,” he agreed, and I heard the smile in his voice. “I’d do it over and over again for you, baby.”

My breath stuttered at that. “I have missed you,” I said softly.

“I’ve missed you too, baby. So much.”

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the burning in them, the ache in my chest. I swallowed. “I, uh, I’ve broken rules.”

“Yes. What do you want to do about that?”

“I should be punished, Master. I… I….”

“You need it,” he finished for me. “Sunday night, we’ll take care of it, decide how much to give. I’ll bring your punishment paddle.”

“Thank you, Master. I….” My voice hitched and I tried to swallow the tears now choking me. I’d fucked up so badly, and he still wanted me, still loved me, was still willing to Master me. “I don’t deser—”

“None of that,” Master nearly growled.

“I’m sorry. I just—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he assured me in a soothing voice. “Really. I can have patience. You’re worth it.” He paused briefly. “Hey, did you bring your computer? Want to log in for a bit?”

I swallowed, my emotions calming a little. “Yeah, well, my laptop, but it’ll run WoW.” I sighed. “I’d like that.”

“All right, then. We’ll chat there.”