Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8) (57 page)

Jesus that sounded terrible! “We used fake names. It was a game we played. We talked! We didn’t just hook up right away. I never made the connection. I swear I had no idea who he was until the party, and then—”

“Is this something you did a lot? Did you get tested?”

“No! I mean… Yes, I got tested after I was with him and most other guys, but there weren’t that many. Most were relationships and not just… you know.”

Jason turned away. He opened the balcony door and stepped outside. William hesitated, not certain if he should follow. He waited a few minutes before he did. Jason was at the railing, starring into darkness, his thoughts no doubt equally bleak.

“Are you mad at me?” William said.

Jason exhaled. “I don’t know. When this happened, were you and I still… I know we weren’t together during any of that time, not officially. You didn’t cheat. But were we still involved at all?”

“No!” William moved forward, wanting to touch him, but he wasn’t sure if that was still allowed. Instead he stood beside Jason. “This was me trying to move on. The first two years I was gone, it was only you. When I decided I couldn’t keep stringing you along, I figured I was the one who needed to move on.”

“With Caesar,” Jason spat.

“By having a one-night stand! Even before I found out who he really was, I regretted it.”

“I doubt that,” Jason said bitterly. “I’ve been with Caesar. I can’t imagine anyone regretting it.” He looked over, eyes suddenly vulnerable. “Did you two… How far did you go?”

“Blowjobs,” William said. “Nothing more.” Sure it had been a very crazy version of oral sex, but the details would only upset Jason. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask for them.

“Once you realized who he was, why didn’t you say something?”

That was the hardest question to answer, because the truth sounded like bullshit.
I didn’t want to hurt you.
Really? Jason was definitely hurt now! If that was William’s sole motivation, he would have kept the secret. “You were with Caesar at the time. If I told you then, it would have seemed like I was trying to sabotage your relationship. I didn’t know that you weren’t happy with him.”

“And after I broke up with him?” Jason said, voice rising. “It sure would have been nice to know this before we got back together!”

William’s throat constricted. “Would that have changed your mind?”

“Maybe!” Jason snarled. Then he grimaced. “I wish I hadn’t shared that bottle of wine with Mia. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Enough that I’m not sure I trust myself. I’m thinking some extreme thoughts right now.”

“Like breaking up?”

Jason shrugged. The idea wasn’t off the table.

“We weren’t together,” William stressed. “You said you had been with other people too.”

“You think that’s the same?” Jason said incredulously. “Fine! I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I fucked Kelly. You know how we got closer after you left? I guess we got a little too close one night.”

William didn’t believe him, but it was an effective demonstration because just the idea made him feel hurt and conflicted.

“We didn’t,” Jason said, voice cracking. “Sorry. Like I said, maybe now’s not the right time. I love you, but I think I need to be alone. To figure things out.”

“Okay,” William said. “Just please don’t forget that I didn’t know who he was. If I had, I never would have done what I did. Even if I thought you and I would never be together again, I still wouldn’t have.”

“I know,” Jason said, attention on the shadowy trees again.

“Okay. I’m going now. I love you.”

Jason didn’t reply. William waited as long as he dared, then turned to walk away. He reached the front door before Jason grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wait! This isn’t fair. I don’t… Ugh! I hate this!”

“I do too,” William said, tears rising because he couldn’t stand seeing Jason so torn up.

“You don’t have to go,” Jason said. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong. Logically I get it, but emotionally, this is really messing with me.”

“I’m sorry,” William breathed. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“I’m done talking about it.” Jason’s hand took his. “Let’s just watch a movie and try to forget about it.”

“Okay.”

They sat on the couch, Jason’s hand still gripping his, but he didn’t think either of them processed the images and sounds that emanating from the screen. Emma came home toward the end, providing a welcome distraction. She talked excitedly about her date, then told a story about someone throwing up in class. She made it funny, and for a little while their troubles seemed to be over, but at bedtime, the tension returned.

“I can take the couch,” William offered. He could also leave, but he didn’t want to.

“You’re sleeping with me,” Jason said. “Just sleep though. Okay? I’m tired.”

And no doubt if they had sex, Jason would be wondering how it compared to what William and Caesar had done together. He made no attempt to touch Jason when they were beneath the sheets. William lay on his side, facing the wall. When an arm wrapped around him, followed by a body pressing against his, he felt hopeful that not all was lost. Not quite yet.

* * * * *

When he woke the next day, Jason was sitting up in bed, sheets around his waist. He was lost in thought, not noticing that William was watching him until he slid a hand across the mattress.

“Good morning,” William tried.

“Morning,” Jason said, ignoring the hand. He chewed his bottom lip. “I have a few questions.”

“Okay.” His throat was already dry, but now his mouth was too. He prayed that Jason didn’t want details.

“I need to know why you didn’t tell me. I know what you said last night, but once we were back together, or just before, I feel like you should have said something.”

“I knew it would hurt you. And it did. I was hoping to avoid that, but when we were out with Caesar, I kept worrying he would say something, and I knew it would be worse coming from him.”

“I don’t like the idea of you keeping things from me,” Jason said. “We shouldn’t have secrets, unless it’s dumb stuff like not telling me what I’m getting for my birthday.”

“Not telling you every detail of my life isn’t the same as keeping a secret. You haven’t said who you slept with while we were apart, or how many guys there were.”

Jason frowned. “Do you want to know?”

“Do you
want
to tell me?”

“Not really,” Jason said. “I get what you mean, but this is different, because he’s my ex.” He shook his head, still conflicted. “It shouldn’t matter. Why does this bother me so much?”

“I can’t answer that for you. If it helps, I also feel weird about it.”

“I think I need time to figure it all out. Alone.” Jason finally took his hand. “I’m not doing this to punish you. I just know that, if we’re together, I’ll obsess over it and ask you things that are none of my business and that won’t make me feel better. But if we’re apart, I’ll miss you and realize that you’re more important than all of this. I know that already. I just need to experience it.”

“Okay,” William said. “I think it’s a good idea. We’ll let the air clear, set it behind us, and move on.”

Jason nodded and released his hand. William slid out of bed, got dressed, and put on his shoes. He didn’t want to leave without a kiss. Just a simple peck. Jason reciprocated, eyes apologetic when they didn’t need to be.

“We’re going to be okay,” William said. “Call me when you’re ready. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jason said.

A small break. The idea scared William, but as he left, he tried to reassure himself by remembering they had survived four years of separation. However much time Jason needed, he was certain they could overcome this.

* * * * *

William stood in front of a door, holding a pie and unsure of the reception he was going to receive. After two weeks apart, a text message from Jason had appeared on his phone. He double-checked it now, just in case he had missed some crucial detail.

Ben and Tim are having a Thanksgiving dinner. 3pm their place. Want to get together then?

Well yeah! He wanted to get together whenever Jason was willing. William hoped he was forgiven. If he knocked, and Jason opened the door, would he be welcomed with open arms? Would they go somewhere private to continue discussing what he had done with Caesar? Or would they carry on as they had before, Jason trying to hide his resentment?

“Precisely what sort of pie is that?” a voice said. William turned to see a large man carrying one of his own. Marcello was glaring at the pie William held, as if threatened by it. “If it’s pumpkin, I have no qualms about smashing it to the ground. I went to the trouble of hiring a bona fide grandmother to bake this one for me. You can’t get more authentic than that.”

“It’s a pecan pie,” William said, pocketing his phone so he could put a protective hand over the dessert. “Made by a bona fide mother.
My
mother.”

“Wonderful!” Marcello declared, any trace of aggression disappearing from his face. “One of my favorites! I’m so glad our pies won’t be competing against each other. Yours might be sweeter, but mine is softer and much more receptive to cream.”

“This conversation is making me uncomfortable.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Marcello peered at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seemed just as uneasy before all this talk of pie began.”

“I’m just…” William glanced at the door, which was still closed. “I’m not sure what sort of reception to expect.”

“From young Jason?”

“Exactly.”

“A hug, a kiss, perhaps a little groping? At your age, physical affection takes precedence. Come to think of it, little changes when you get to be my age. You might as well start practicing now. Go ahead and knock.”

William didn’t budge. “I did something. When we were apart. I didn’t cheat, but I was with someone he doesn’t like. Or that he likes too much.” He hesitated, but when Marcello nodded patiently, he continued voicing his concerns. “I’m a little confused, because Jason used to date this person, so he of all people should understand why I found his ex-boyfriend attractive. Right? Not that I knew who he was at the time. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t bother you with all of this.”

“There used to be this gorgeous little French place on the north side of town,” Marcello said, as if participating in a completely different conversation. “A small Parisian café so authentic that I often wondered if it fell through some dimensional rift and ended up here. I first discovered it by chance when on a date with Tolga, a stoic but handsome man from Istanbul. My Turkish delight!” Marcello sighed. “He was elusive, not impressed by success or money. My wit didn’t amuse him—perhaps due to a language barrier—and any physical advances were immediately rejected. I tried a concert, which gave him a headache, and a museum, which he yawned through. It was during one of these failed dates that we found ourselves hungry and in need of a quick solution, so by chance we popped into the little French café. Tolga perked up immediately. As soon as the first slice of baguette slathered with
tapenade noir à la figue
entered his mouth, he was a changed man. Tolga, as it turned out, had a passion for French culture, and for culinary adventures in general. I took him to Paris soon after. Then I took him in Paris. Ha ha!”

William shifted the pie to another hand, arm growing tired. As interesting as the story was, he didn’t see what any of it had to do with him.

“Betrayal comes in many forms,” Marcello continued. “The French café became a special place of ours. We returned often and even celebrated an anniversary there. Occasionally I would drop in to pick up some of the olive and fig spread that he loved so much. During one such foray, I was shocked to find Tolga seated at our usual table, a young woman across from him. I watched him hand-feed her a bite of the same spread I was there to pick up. Needless to say, I was hurt. I spoke words I now regret and left in a huff. Later I learned that she was his sister, but to my surprise, the hurt didn’t go away. The café was
our
special place, a setting dedicated to our romance, each nibble of food an expression of love—at least in my mind. How could he invite anyone else there, even platonically, when it was meant for me and him alone?”

“That sucks,” William said.

“No,” Marcello said, shaking his head. “My own childish attitude is what sucked, as you put it. He wanted to share his passion for food with his sister. I wanted all of him, which isn’t fair. What business was it of mine what he did when we were apart? Short of cheating on me, he deserved his independence. Unfortunately, I let my hurt feelings get in the way of something truly special.”

William swallowed. “You broke up?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You aren’t making me feel better.”

“I’m telling you what you need to know,” Marcello said. “Tolga wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. That had nothing to do with his grip on English. Rather, he was a very guarded individual. Had he not been, I like to think he would have told me to get over it, that I needed to stop being petty and recognize that while misunderstandings happen, they are only ruinous when we allow them to be. From the sound of things, you and Jason had such a misunderstanding. Don’t let it become more than it needs to be.”