Starting with the Unexpected (5 page)

“I sense a story,” Marcus said, getting himself into a comfortable position. “Tell me.”

“What is it with you and stories?” I teased. “Do you remember when I told you that, yes, I’d burned an ex’s belongings before? His name was Tyler. We met when we first started college and we were together for over a year. I was determined that I was madly in love with him.” I snorted and shook my head. There were
some
good memories, of course, but they were overshadowed by the things that came later. “He had… issues. His mom had died during his birth, his dad basically discarded him to start a new family, and he was raised by his grandparents.”

“That’s enough to leave anyone traumatized for life,” Marcus said with a whistle. “Poor guy. I’m guessing no one thought to get him counseling when he was older?”

“His grandparents didn’t believe in counseling,” I said to him. It was one of the things that pissed me off about them. There were obviously things he needed to work out, but no one had ever bothered getting him the help he required. “And they also instilled the fear of God in him. He quite literally thought that every time we fooled around, God broke his car.”

Marcus looked at me for a moment, and I was pretty sure he was trying to decide if I was kidding or not. Sadly, I wasn’t. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I said with a nod. “Never mind that his car was an ancient Chrysler that broke down every time you looked at it funny. No no. It wasn’t the car’s age or mileage, it was the fucking. God disapproved of fucking before marriage, gay or not.”

Marcus wiped a hand down his face and groaned. “Wow.”

“Uh huh. And as he liked to remind me,
he
was a virgin when we started dating, so it was
my
fault. For tempting him, you know? Anyway he asked me to marry him. I thought it was because he loved me as much as I loved him. I was informed, after it was all over, that he asked me so he didn’t feel so guilty about being balls deep in my ass.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Marcus spat. He moved closer to me so he could lean against my side. “That’s such bullshit.”

“Oh no, there’s more,” I said, turning my face to hide it against his shoulder. “Jordan and I used to go to a lot of sci-fi/fantasy conventions, back then. We had a group of friends we used to hang out with there, and some of the friends we had in high school would go with us sometimes. On one particular occasion, Tyler and a friend of ours named Mel decided to go with us. Well, it was fine the first day, but the second day we couldn’t find either of them anywhere. When we finally tracked Tyler down in the front area of the hotel, where a thousand other attendees were milling about, and I asked him where he’d been, he started yelling at me that he’d been off fucking Mel, how he’d only asked me to marry him because he had to make things right in the eyes of God, and that I was a pathetic boyfriend who didn’t deserve him.”

I squeaked when Marcus yanked me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. The last several years had pretty much healed those wounds, but it was still nice to be held as I told the story of the most humiliating moment of my life. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “That’s so many levels of wrong.”

“We were the talk of the convention, and I haven’t been back since,” I said bitterly. “Like I said, it was packed. Jordan dragged me back to our room, and I stayed there for the rest of the trip. Thankfully he tracked Mel down and let him know that he and Tyler would have to find their own way home, because they sure as hell weren’t welcome in his car again. Anyway, that wasn’t the point of the story. The point of the story is that after we got home and I burned the few things Tyler had left at my place, I could have just jumped into another relationship. Jordan suggested I take a few months off and just concentrate on myself. Really it was the best advice I could have been given.”

“And so you’re giving me the same advice now?”

I nodded. “How long were you together?”

“Six months,” Marcus admitted. “Not that long, really. But I thought I was really falling for him, you know?” He sniffled a little, and I rubbed a hand down his arm. “Fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed. “He’s an asshole, and your sister’s a skanky bitch. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need a little time to heal, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighed, giving me a little squeeze. “You’re probably right. The baggage needs to be worked through a little first. Get to a point where I don’t want to punch someone every time I think of Davis and Delilah.”

“Davis and Delilah? Oh dear God,” I remarked, my expression conveying my horror. I was pretty sure that it did, anyway, considering how hard Marcus started laughing. “That’s just…. What are they, a 1960s singing duo?”

“It does kind of sound like that, doesn’t it? Except instead of sharing yet another mediocre duet with the world, they share infestations that they may have picked up from one another.”

I felt the blood drain away from my face as his words sank in. “Have you been tested?” I asked gently. “I mean, if they were….” I didn’t want to finish the thought.

“The day after I found them together,” Marcus reassured me quickly. “Not that I ever trusted him enough to go bare, but there’s no need to take chances.”

“Exactly,” I said as I slid off of his lap and onto the couch next to him. “You’ll be okay. In the meantime, get in touch with friends you’ve lost contact with, make new friends, and do the fun things that you didn’t do while you were with him.”

“He hated the zoo,” Marcus mused. “Said it was for kids.” He raised an eyebrow at me and grinned, and I grinned back. “Think I might have a friend who’d want to go with me?”

I waved my hand in the air like an overeager teacher’s pet. “Ooh. Me. Pick me.”

He laughed and pulled me into a hug. Yeah, he’d be just fine.

M
ARCUS
’
S
VISIT
to our place was the start of a new routine. On his days off, he’d come over to hang out with us for a while, even if it was just a few hours before we had to go to work. When we discovered he was working toward his master’s degree in mythological studies, we encouraged him to bring his homework with him. He wasn’t the only one who loved a good story, after all, and he was more than happy to talk about what he’d been studying.

So it seemed weird when he didn’t show on an evening he wasn’t scheduled to work.

“Just call him,” Jordan said with a sigh.

“Right, and look like a stalker,” I said with a snort. Yeah. That was a horrible idea. He didn’t need me clinging to him, and I didn’t want to end up looking needy.

“Somehow I don’t think he’d have a problem with his boyfriend calling him,” Jordan told me, smirking. The expression would have made me want to smack anyone else. He was lucky I loved him. That, and he had too much he could blackmail me with.

“I’m not his boyfriend.”

Jordan snorted and shook his head. “I think the only two people who don’t know you’re in a relationship are you and Marcus.”

“We aren’t in a relationship,” I said firmly. We weren’t. We just hung out together all the time. And weren’t happy unless we were within arm’s reach of each other. We definitely weren’t dating, so I wasn’t about to call him and look all clingy.

Maybe I could just text him instead….

I gave up with a sigh and pulled out my phone to send him a quick message, asking if he planned on coming over. The response was almost immediate.

Sorry. Running a bit late. Something’s come up. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Or do you guys have plans?

I stared at my phone and narrowed my eyes as I reread his message. Marcus
never
ran late. Especially since he knew I’d just stocked the freezer with ice cream and had made sure to have caramel sauce and whipped cream on hand. Fuck being clingy—something was wrong. I dialed his number and didn’t even wait for a greeting when he picked up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marcus said in a hushed tone.

He wasn’t fooling me, not sounding that nervous. I narrowed my eyes and turned up the volume on my phone. “You don’t sound like it’s nothing,” I replied. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Marcus repeated, his tone a little more urgent.

Unfortunately for him, a pounding noise in the background gave away his predicament. “He’s at your fucking door again, isn’t he?” I growled. “Goddammit, do I need to call the cops?”

“He’ll go away in a few minutes,” Marcus protested. “Once he’s gone I’ll head over.”

Right. I knew better than that. Guys like his ex didn’t just “go away.” They hung around like obnoxious mosquitoes, buzzing in your ear as they tried to suck all the life out of you. “You’re half an hour later than usual. How long has he been there?”

My question was answered with silence, and I growled again. “We’ll be there in five minutes.” It was a good thing Marcus had pointed out his apartment building to me the last time we’d gone for a drive. I was pretty sure I could find it again.

“No, seriously. He’ll—”

“He’ll get the fuck away from your door and quit harassing you once we’re there,” I said. “Five minutes.”

I hung up the phone without waiting for a response and turned to look at Jordan. He was already pulling on a jacket. “It’s the ex?” he asked, though his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” I growled.

“Murder’s still frowned upon, last time I checked,” Jordan reminded me as he grabbed his keys. “I’ll drive. And remember, no murder.”

“Can I take the baseball bat?” I asked. I sounded way too hopeful about the prospect for my own comfort, but I’d contemplate my sudden violent streak later.

“No,” Jordan said firmly. “That would definitely make it premeditated. Besides, we have other weapons at our disposal.”

Thank fuck for a best friend who has a second-degree black belt in judo. He was walking proof that you should never underestimate a skinny, geeky-looking kid. “Are you gonna throw him?” I asked excitedly as I followed him to the garage.

Jordan snorted. “The point is to avoid that unless necessary, you know.”

“No fair. I wanted to see him get thrown.”

That earned me an eye roll, but that was okay. Jordan knew I was perfectly aware he didn’t like to use those skills unless he had no choice. Or unless I begged him, because there was something seriously fun about getting flipped onto the ground like that. He thought I was crazy because I actually wanted to be thrown, but considering I’d always thought he was insane for his love of deep-fried Twinkies (because seriously,
ew
), I figured we were even on the whole crazy scale.

But that wasn’t what was most on my mind as we headed for Marcus’s place. I was more concerned about what we would find when we got there. Marcus had told me several times that Davis wasn’t violent, but you can’t trust a guy who shows up at your place and pounds at your door when they know they aren’t wanted.

It made me wish I’d brought the baseball bat.

I didn’t know which apartment in the complex belonged to Marcus, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. All we had to do was look for the one with the idiot pounding on the door. Once I saw the guy, I was less than impressed. Davis was really tall, I’ll give him that, but he most definitely wasn’t my idea of attractive. I may be kind of skinny, but if I’d seen a stranger on the street who looked like him I’d worry that he either had an eating disorder or was on drugs. Possibly both. I mean, yeah, people can be naturally thin, but he was a little extreme.

Since he was Marcus’s ex, though, I didn’t give a shit. I just wanted him to go away. “Excuse me,” I said with feigned syrupy sweetness. “You’re in our way.”

Davis turned his head and glared at me. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the guy who asked you to move,” I said evenly as I insinuated myself between him and the door. “And you’re Davis, the idiot who keeps harassing Marcus.”

El Creepo puffed up, and I was reminded of a toad. “He’s my boyfriend,” Davis growled. “Fuck off.”

“Actually, he’s not,” Jordan corrected him. “Now go on before we call the cops.”

“He’s mine.”

“He’s his own person,” I said through gritted teeth. “Jordan, call the cops.”

I was unprepared for the punch Davis threw, but it connected with my face, and the back of my head bounced off the doorway. When I was able to see straight again I was slumped on the ground, my back resting against something infinitely warmer than Marcus’s apartment door. I turned to look, wincing as I did. The door was open, and I was leaning against Marcus.

“Stay still,” he told me. He had that look on his face that I recognized as trying to look calm while panicking inside. My mom had that look on her face a lot while I was in high school. “You banged your head pretty hard and you’re probably going to have a black eye in the morning. We need to get you checked for a concussion, I think.”

“I called his brother after I called the cops,” Jordan said, and I turned my head slowly so that I could see that he had a squirming, swearing Davis pinned to the ground.

“Goddammit. You got to throw him, and I missed it,” I grumbled before what he said sank in. “Wait, you called Brandon? What the fuck, Jordan?”

Jordan gave me a scathing look and turned his attention to Marcus. “Brandon’s in med school. He’ll be able to tell if Zach has a concussion, which is probably the best we’re going to get, since someone will just refuse to let me call for an ambulance.”

“I don’t need one,” I protested, ignoring the smirk Jordan sent Marcus’s way.

Brandon showed up on the heels of the police, and he took great joy in sneering as he stood over me. “You hit on a straight guy again?” he taunted.

“Fuck you,” I mumbled. This was no time for him to bring up the past.

“He was protecting me from my ex-boyfriend,” Marcus said calmly, pointing at Davis. “Davis punched him in the face, and his head made friends with my front door. Now do us all a favor and make sure Ollie’s not going to die on us, so he can find out what he needs to do to press charges for assault.”