Don't Read in the Closet volume one (48 page)

Selected by Jeanette
Grey

Dear Author,

I'm partial to best
friends that fall in love. These two have been best friends since forever to
hear them tell it. The blonde has been in love with the dark headed one since
as long as he can remember. The dark headed one has only recently become open
to the idea of a relationship with his bestfriend because he's tired of denying
himself what he wants most in life. How did they meet, what's happened to them,
what does everyone think? This is a story line that has been done many times
over, so is there any way that you can put a twist on this or give it some new
and fresh
take
so it's not the
"same-ol-same-ol"? Anyone up for a challenge? ;o)

[PHOTO: Two naked, muscular men stand front
to back, mostly facing the viewer. The tattooed man in front has his eyes
closed and his head tilted back onto his lover's left shoulder. From behind,
the other leans his head around to nibble on an ear, hands splayed over his
lover's stomach.]

Just so you know... I
REALLY REALLY like angst.

Sincerely,

Stacey Jo

Genre:
contemporary

Tags:
friends to lovers, tattoos

Words:
8,663

HEART AND SOUL

by
Jeanette Grey

Ben glanced at
his phone as he killed the engine on his car. As expected, there weren't any
messages. No missed calls.

Through the
drizzle and the darkness outside, he directed his gaze out the windshield
toward the warm glow of the windows of Madigan's Bar, wishing he could see
inside. Duke hadn't been at his house or at Danielle's, and Ben didn't know if
he'd be here. If he had to put money on it, though...

With a deep
sigh, Ben pulled the collar of his jacket close and threw open the car door
before darting out into the rain, muttering under his breath, "Damn well
better be worth it."

He only had to
take a single step inside to know it was.

There at the
bar, hunched over a half-drained pint, was the head of short-cropped black hair
and those muscled shoulders. The peek-a-boo lines of a tribal tattoo.

For a minute,
Ben stood there on the threshold, leaning against the door frame and just
staring, his annoyance seeping away as quickly as it had gathered. Across the
room, he saw Mike nod at him from behind the bar before gesturing toward Duke
with a question in his eyes. Ben shook his head and raised his hand to press
his forefinger to his lips. Mike shrugged and moved back to the other side of
the bar, but Ben wasn't looking at him anymore.

How could he?

After letting
his eyes scan over Duke's body one more time, Ben finally pushed away from the wall
and strode across the room. The barstool made a rough noise as it scraped
against the stone floor, but Duke didn't flinch at either the sound or at the
way Ben deposited himself into the seat. He raised a hand to get Mike's
attention again, ignoring the wry grin on the bartender's face.

"Two Sam
Adams."

"Coming
right up."

Mike poured the
two beers and passed them over. Ben grabbed one for
himself
and slipped the other over to sit beside Duke's mostly empty one. Duke still
didn't look up, but he did mumble out a low, "Thank you," before
draining the first glass and lifting up the second.

"I tried
to call you."

"I ignored
it."

"I
noticed." Ben chanced a quick look over at Duke. From the door, he hadn't
been able to see the other man's expression, and while he had a pretty good
idea what he was dealing with, he'd take any extra clues he could get.

There weren't
many. But then again, after all these years, it wasn't like Ben needed much.
Sure enough, in the lines around those cool blue eyes and the tilt of his lips,
Ben could see that Duke was just as upset as he'd expected him to be.

Ben already
knew most of the story. After all, Danielle had been the one to call him, her
voice near-hysterical as she'd relayed the story of Duke walking in on her with
another man. Of Duke storming out and refusing to answer his phone.

Wanting to hear
it all from Duke, though, Ben didn't go into any of that. Instead, he just
asked, "So how are you?"

"How do I
look?"

Ben sized him
up again before answering. "Wrecked."

Duke nodded
stiffly but hid the waver of his mouth with his glass. "That's about
right." The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, each drinking
quietly until Duke dropped his fist against the bar. "It's just all...
bullshit is what it is."

"What's that?"

"Relationships.
Life. The whole damned thing." For the first time all night, Duke looked
up and turned his head, his shining eyes finding Ben's and locking them inside
his gaze. "She fucking cheated on me. With this random pick-up. Tried to
tell me it didn't mean anything, but who
does
that?"

Ben hesitated
before answering, his hand hovering over the bar. He wanted so badly to reach
out, to console him. To
touch
him. He wanted to tell his friend that she
wasn't worth it and that he should move on.

But everything
he wanted to do was selfish. He wanted to touch Duke because he wanted to touch
him. He wanted to turn him away from Danielle
because ...

It hurt too
much to think about why.

And it didn't
matter anyway. Things never worked out the way Ben wanted them to. Not with
Duke.

Exhaling hard,
Ben finally decided on a compromise and clapped his hand on the warm muscle of
Duke's shoulder, only resting it there for a second before withdrawing. He had
to grasp the side of his glass to keep from doing it again. "I'm sorry. I
wish ..."

Ben wished for
so many things.

"It's
fine. It's all fine," Duke said. "It's just ... Don't you ever just
want to give up? On the whole thing? On women?"

The question
stung. It was the kind of thing Duke would say sometimes, though. Especially
when he was angry.

Instinctively,
Ben bristled slightly, his shoulders stiffening. "Obviously."

Duke didn't
even have the decency to acknowledge that he'd fucked up. "Oh, you know
what I mean. Men in your case."

"And
sometimes in yours."

It was neither
the time nor the place, but Ben couldn't stop the words from spilling out. He
remembered it all so vividly, walking in on Duke and another man that one time
in college. Hell, he'd even dated one for a couple of weeks after his last relationship
had gone to seed. Before Danielle.

It was the hope
Ben clung to. It was the knowledge that tormented him and refused to set him
free.

Why
will it never be me?

"Fuck
off," Duke retorted, but there wasn't any malice to it as he jabbed his
elbow into Ben's ribs. "On love, then. Don't you ever want to give up on
that?"

"Sometimes."
He never did, though. Because even after sixteen years, love had never let go
of him.

Duke dropped
his head into his hands, his elbows resting on edge of the bar, and his voice
was strained. "I just don't see how it can all be worth it."

"I guess
... I guess it just is. There are good times, right? Good memories?"

Snorting, Duke
shook his head. "I swear, sometimes I think my best times are the ones I
spend hanging out with you."

Ben's chest
seemed to warm and ache in equal measures, and he forced a chuckle from his
throat. "Sure, sure."

"Well, it
feels that way right now at least."

"It'll get
better. You know it always does." Turning to look at Duke, Ben fought to
keep his tone even. "So you guys are really through, huh?"

"Yeah. I
can't ... I just can't."

"I don't
blame you."

Duke shook his
head and signaled Mike for another couple of pints. "There was other stuff
anyway. I'd just been closing my eyes to all of it."

Ben knew about
a lot of the other stuff. How many nights had they spent splitting a bottle of
scotch and commiserating? And goodness knew there wasn't much going on in Ben's
love life for him to complain about, so most of those evenings ended up with
Duke slowly pouring out his own discontents and wondering aloud why he couldn't
seem to find Mrs. Right.

Or
Mr. Right.

Ben's
subconscious wouldn't seem to let that glimmer of a possibility go.

Changing the
subject slightly, Ben asked, "So when are you going to see Kylie?"

"Tomorrow.
Noon. I already called and got an appointment."

"That was
fast."

"Apparently
she knows how to take care of her repeat customers," Duke said wryly,
practically spitting out the last couple of words.

"Hell, I'm
surprised she remembers you. After the past couple of years..."

"Don't
remind me."

"I'm just
saying. You've been ... happy."

"I've been
content."

Ben shrugged to
hide his own resignation. His defeat. "Same difference, right?"

"No,"
Duke insisted, speaking vehemently. And yet there was the slightest hint of
sadness in the way he spoke, too, his eyes intense as he stared Ben down.
"It's not the same thing at all."

The whole rest
of the night, those words would haunt Ben. He watched Duke put back too many
beers to count while nursing his own. Before long, he switched to soda, knowing
he would have to be the one to get Duke home tonight. That was how things went.
As Duke went on about his whole sad romantic history, Ben listened and said all
the right things. But in the back of his mind, he was thinking about
contentment. He thought about settling.

He thought
about the half dozen men he'd tried to make it work with and about how, every
time, when all was said and done, he'd let them go without remorse. Because
every time, Duke was there, patting his shoulder as he drowned his sorrows at
this very bar.

And that
comforting touch electrified him the way that no one else's ever could.

Finally, Mike
cleared away the last pint glass. Duke lifted his head and opened his mouth,
but Mike cut him off. "Sorry, man. That was last call."

"Come
on," Duke said, slurring his words. "One more."

Mike just shook
his head and cast a sympathetic look at Ben before walking away. Ben took his
cue and slipped his arm around Duke's shoulders, beginning to haul him up off
of the stool. "There's plenty more at your place," he promised,
figuring Duke would be passed out by the time they got there.

To Ben's
surprise, Duke shook his head fiercely. "Don't wanna go there." He
let Ben pull him to his feet anyway, slumping against his body as they began to
stagger toward the door.

"Oh,
really?"

"Nope."
He spat. "Smells like her."

Ben swallowed,
hesitating on the threshold. "So where to then?"

"Don't
care. Your place?"

With a deep
inhale, Ben nodded, bracing himself before stepping forward. It was still
raining out, the night black and the air cool and damp. He moved them quickly to
the passenger's side of the car, unlocking it and then holding it open as Duke
melted into the seat.

The drive back
to Ben's house was short, and he half thought Duke had passed out after all
until his friend spoke up, groaning quietly. "Can we change this
shit?"

"Hmm?"
Ben glanced over to find Duke pointing at the radio. It was tuned to a classic
rock station – one that they both liked. But then the lyrics registered.

You're
in my
heart,
you're in my soul...

Ben hit the
button to turn the damned thing off before another word could bleed out. As he
returned his hand to the steering wheel, he thought about what Duke would have
heard in it. The story of attraction and love. Of choosing one person above all
others.