No One But You Read online

  I worked, made pretty good money, paid my bills, had a little fun, put some back for retirement, and I minded my own business. After the meeting with my family, when we were home and I was quietly getting drunk over the whole show, shop, money, loan, he-held-my-hand-in-front-of-my-family thing under his amused gaze, I blurted out the question. To find out he was a millionaire, twenty times over, came as a shock.

  That was the night my father finally accepted my lover. Stacy sat there, checkbook at the ready, and we threw every reason we could think of why we shouldn't take his money back at him. Until that night, he'd never touched me in front of my parents, not even a friendly guy-type pat on the back. In the heat of the arguments, he'd reached over and taken my hand in a public declaration of the partnership we shared.

  Then he looked my father straight in the eye and said he wasn't offering the loan to us because he shared my bed, but because we, The Chop Shop et al, were good at what we did. My dad had stared at our joined hands for the longest time, then he'd agreed.

  Would I ever hold Stacy's hand again?

  The shop went dead quiet when I walked in. Just fuck me. They all knew Stacy and I had been out there fighting. I would not let our quarrel interfere with my work. I refused to allow that to happen. I knew some of the hired help made snotty queer comments about me--I overhead them often enough--and I wasn't giving them joke fodder. Fuck 'em.

  Aaron strolled over, and I saw it in his gaze he knew exactly how I felt. A lot of people equated gay with weak, and we weren't. The look in his eyes urged me to hang tough. I did. All business, he waved a folder at me.

  "Preliminary filming schedule on the GTO. Let's sit down this afternoon and go over it."

  I grabbed my coffee mug and poured it full of the steaming black liquid, then leaned causally against the counter. Sniffing it, I made a face over how strong it was. I shook my head. "Sorry, Aaron, I can't. If you check my schedule, you'll see I'm outta here at noon today."

  The noise level in the shop rose to normal. He looked at me with softer brown eyes. "Anything I can do to help?"

  "Nope. We'll work through it."

  I wasn't sure we would. Stacy and I had never quarreled like this before. My stomach threatened a full rebellion.

  "Did the plans for your afternoon off just change?"

  The important ones had. Stacy and I had planned to grill a few burgers, kick back on the patio, and listen to the ballgame on the radio before leaving for the tournament. We did that two years ago before the final round, and I'd finished second. The inside joke was we'd do it again to build my psych. That idea was blown all to hell.

  Suddenly, Aaron's company was preferably to that of my father and uncle. My family would pry where they shouldn't, and not understand the complete and utter panic I barely held in check. But Aaron--Aaron was gay. He knew things about the unique pressures of my relationship with another man my family couldn't even guess.

  "No, my plans are still on, but I could use a lift to get my pickup."

  "Sure. Just remember I'm a good listener, too. I've had my share of lover's spats."

  I stood, frozen. He was a virtual stranger, but he offered me exactly what Stacy had tried to tell me I needed--a different gay perspective. I'd insulated myself with Stacy and his friends as a way to be closer to him.

  Damn Stacy for being so smart.

  And damn me for cutting him.

  "Aaron, what do you say we just blow off filming this morning and go find a place to talk about the schedule for the GTO?"

  My director didn't blink. "Let me tell the crew they have a long weekend."

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  * * *

  Finding a quiet place to talk unobserved proved impossible. I directed Aaron to a local coffee shop and we took our seats under the interested gaze of Jeremy Mayfield. I noted with an odd detachment that old man Mayfield was showing his age.

  He smiled at me and flipped open his cell phone. I didn't need to be a nuclear physicist to know who was on the other end of that call. Mayfield slipped his phone in his pocket and fixed me with a curious stare.

  Aaron opened the folder on the Pontiac, while I ordered coffee and begged two pencils from the waitress. Let Jeremy sit and listen to shop talk. It would bore him and he'd move on.

  I hoped.

  "Luke's ordered a bunch of stuff already. Your dad is just hopping up and down to start that car. Here's his sheet. Here's Danny's sheet, also filled out." Aaron handed the papers to me. He smiled. "Here's your blank sheet."

  I stared at it. That empty page sort of summed up my life if Stacy and I didn't mend our fences. The coffee burned the roof of my mouth.

  "Levi, why don't you tell me what happened?"

  I lowered my voice and explained about Mayfield sitting there taking it all in. Aaron didn't even glance in his direction, just nodded. Sure enough after about twenty minutes of GTO stories, Jeremy gathered his newspaper and breakfast trash, tossed it, then meandered over.

  "Levi."

  "Jeremy." I introduced Aaron as my new director and blathered on a bit about the car, all things he'd heard if he'd been listening. And I knew he had been. He said all the polite things before leaving.

  "Are you going to melt down now?"

  Relief at the sight of Mayfield's retreating backside left me limp enough to dissolve into a little puddle on the floor.

  "Mother, may I?"

  "Sure. Whatever you need." Aaron's foot nudged mine. "Give Stacy some time to cool off and get his head out of his ass. He'll come around looking for you."

  I wished I could believe that, but the words I used to cut him would always stand between us. If we were together another forty years, I'd never be able to forget, or forgive myself, for deliberately hurting him like that. I finished my coffee.

  "I think I'd better just go get my truck and pack a bag for tonight."

  Aaron leaned forward. "You're moving out?"

  "I don't know. He asked me to find a place to sleep tonight." I stared out the window. "He's never asked me to do that before."

  "Shit. That's serious, Levi."

  My attention snapped back to him. "What's serious?"

  "That he never asked you to sleep elsewhere for a night."

  My stomach clenched. I'd said that out loud?

  "Just take me ho..." Home? I washed cold again with new shocks hitting my system and making my heart do funny, quivery things. Maybe I didn't have a home. "Just take me to get my truck, okay?"

  "Sure. I'll get the tab." Aaron smiled at me. "Expense account, you know."

  Yeah, I knew. I put all the papers back in the folder and met him at his Tahoe. He drove in silence as I told him where to turn. He pulled into our--Stacy's--driveway and put the vehicle in park before turning to me.

  "Are you going to be okay? I feel bad about just dumping you out."

  "I'll be fine. I don't think Stacy will come home for a while. I'll try and relax a little bit before the tourney tonight."

  "The pool tournament the guys were talking about?"

  "Yep. Two years ago, I finished second. I need to get my psych working so I can win this time." I made a snap decision. "Since you're a stranger in a strange town, why not come watch? I'll pick you up this time."

  "I'd love to. I'm in room one-twelve at the Holiday Inn."

  "Okay. Be ready at three-fifteen. Thanks for the lift, man." I closed the car door and waved once, not standing around to watch him leave. I stepped inside the cool stillness of the house. I'd lived here--loved here--for five years, but suddenly I was an alien invader.

  The door to Stacy's study was open, the green lights on his computer glowing in the dusky light of the room. This truly was his man-cave. I loved his study with its heavy drapes that he never opened and the leather furniture--the big sofa where we sometimes romped. Pushing all guilt aside, I nosed about in his calendar, looking for clues to things out of place, but I found nothing out of the ordinary. No unknown names, no doctor appointments, for which I w
as grateful.

  I pulled a piece of paper out of his printer and wrote him a short note, the words barely legible my hand shook so badly. Then I crumpled it up and tossed it in the trashcan. Stacy would know I'd been in the house to get my cue stick for tonight. And clothes. I didn't want to go into the bedroom.

  Did it make any difference? Every corner of this house held one of my memories. We'd shared joyous times here, and great sex. I'd given him blowjobs in the kitchen, and danced naked on the dining room table just to hear his laughter urging me on.

  How many times had I arrived home from work and found him in his study, working naked, and waiting for me? Already wanting me.

  I couldn't count them. But the bedroom is where he taught me about love and life.

  Stacy was friend, lover and mentor. If he told me to go, I'd fight him to stay by his side. Even if I lost that battle, no matter where I went in my life, I'd hear his voice talking to me out of the darkness, giving me guidance. If Stacy sent me out on my own, other future lovers, whoever they might be, would always be second choice. How could I be happy with someone else, knowing that?

  By a tacit agreement, Mrs. Gilcrest only came in this room once a week. The bed was still a bit rumpled from this morning. I'd yanked the covers up into the semblance of order, which was about all we ever did, but I could see where I'd knelt to tease him as we dressed.

  I perched on Stacy's side of the bed and held his pillow to my chest. Where was he? Had he calmed down? Was he with Jeremy?

  Probably he was with Mayfield. I didn't like Jeremy, but I recognized the bond Stacy had with him. Jeremy had gotten to the truth and saved Stacy from conviction twenty-five years ago, so I appreciated how grateful Stacy was to Mayfield. They'd gone into business together, but never been lovers. Would Stacy tell Jeremy what venom had spewed out of my mouth?

  No, he wouldn't. Stacy always kept what happened between us private, even with Mayfield.

  I had to pull myself together. Missing the tournament wasn't an option. If I didn't show tonight, I'd be disqualified for the team events, and I owed it to the guys to be there. I might not have the focus I needed to win tonight, but that didn't matter.

  God, I wanted a cigarette. I'd put them down five years ago, but the craving for one rose up inside me with a vengeance. I knew better than to go get a pack. Tobacco wouldn't make me feel better, just sick after all this time, and I was sick enough without additional help.

  I needed to get out of this room. I grabbed my shirt for tonight. Tomorrow morning, I would be back, and Stacy and I would talk. After I put everything in the truck, I crashed on the patio, staring out over Stacy's backyard Eden, thinking.

  * * * *

  I pulled up outside Aaron's motel room and beeped the horn. He stepped out immediately, leading me to believe he'd watched for my arrival. His gaze met mine, cautious and caring. I had my head together for the tournament and steeled myself for his questions.

  "You okay, Levi?"

  "Yep. I'm ready to play."

  "Did you talk to Stacy?"

  "Nope."

  "Thanks for asking me to come along."

  I glanced over at him. "You're welcome. If you meet someone, let me know so I'm not looking for you after the last match."

  Aaron laughed. "Is it hard to meet guys in this town?"

  "Not like it used to be." I grinned at him. "It's either that there's a lot of new blood in town or I recognize it now."

  I felt him watching me, but he didn't ask. I told him before his head exploded all over my customized Silverado's interior. "Stacy's the only man I've ever been with. Before him, I couldn't figure out why women didn't quite do it for me."

  "You didn't know you were gay?"

  I actually laughed at the incredulous squeak in his voice.

  "I wondered, but I thought if I were really gay, I'd be, like, you know, lusting after every good-looking man in tight pants who walked in front of me. And I wasn't."

  "You think all gays are sex fiends?"

  "Fuck, I didn't know what to think when I was in my early twenties. Then one night, at a car show, some redneck called me a queer-boy faggot. I was livid, man. I was going beat the shit out of him."

  Aaron laughed. "I hope you did."

  "Nope. This gorgeous stud stepped in and saved my ass. Decked the dude with one punch and probably kept me from being killed."

  "Stacy?"

  "Yep. Stacy. I took one look at him and I knew right then and there what my problem with sex was, believe me. I fell all over myself getting into his bed." I pulled into the parking lot and hit the brakes. The 'Vette was parked by the front door. My stomach knotted with nerves, just when I'd worked a few of them out, too.

  "Damn, Levi. Is he going to be pissed I'm with you?"

  "Fuck if I know." I eased my pickup into a parking spot. A shadow moved on the porch, stepping into the sunlight. Aaron touched my arm.

  "I'll go inside."

  I nodded, but my attention was on Stacy as he approached the truck. He nodded curtly to Aaron, but didn't engage him in conversation. I opened my door and kept it open as a shield. I didn't know if it would be from Stacy, or from everyone else.

  Apparently everyone else. He walked around it and stood beside me. I forced myself to look at him, to risk drowning in his eyes. My heart lurched at the tired lines on his face.

  "What are you doing here, Stace?"

  A muscle in his jaw worked. "I'm not sure. I wondered if you'd be...if you'd make the tournament, I guess."

  "Mayfield call you? Tell you I was at the coffee shop with another man?"

  "He did. I figured it was Aaron. Was it?"

  I nodded, afraid to speak. He'd come here, but was it to try to make amends, or tell me he'd thought things over and we were through? I squared my shoulders, trying to prepare for the worst.

  "Look, Levi, I'd like to watch you kick ass in there tonight, but I'm worried I'll distract you too much."

  "You won't." I was ready to grab any toehold I could. Hell, I'd throw the tournament in the first round so we could go talk if he asked me to.

  Stacy's lips narrowed. "I might. So let me just wish you good luck, which you don't need because you're that good and you'll win without it."

  My throat closed. My eyes burned. I reminded myself he'd come here. It didn't matter if he stayed. He'd taken a step back to me--to us. I asked him so he knew I wanted him here.

  "A little luck never hurts. Please. Stay."

  He shook his head. "No. I really need space tonight, Levi. When you come home tonight, use the guestroom."

  I didn't question if he were serious or not. I knew he was. Telling me I could come home was all he could offer me at the moment, and more than I could accept. For five years, he'd insisted his bed was my bed, too. I wouldn't stay under his roof if I weren't allowed to sleep in it. I wouldn't go home tonight. If all I had left was pride, then I needed to nurture it.

  "I'd better go sign in. I'm really glad you came by, Stace. It means a lot." My hands itched to reach out to him. My chest ached to be against his, but I couldn't make a move. I had one more thing to say. "I'm sorry, Stace. Of all the shit I've put you through, this is the one thing I don't expect you to forgive me for."

  He looked at me oddly, as if he saw me for the first time. His eyes got a glassy look to them, and his voice was gruff. "Nail 'em to wall, Levi, okay?"

  "I will." I turned and pulled my case from behind the seat. When I looked up, Stacy had the Corvette unlocked. I watched until he pulled off the lot, driving sedately as ever.

  My buddy and team captain, JR, pulled his street rod in beside my truck and hopped out. "Was that Stacy leaving?"

  "He can't make it tonight."

  "Shit. There goes the spectator beer bash. You ready to kick some wrong ass, Wright?"

  "Absolutely. Hey, listen, JR. My new director is with me. He's inside. No ass jokes when the players bend over the tables, okay?"

  He looked at me and blinked owlishly. "You're kidding me. He's gay
, too? Can we still rag you about your ass?"

  "Like I could stop you. Pass the word to nix the wise cracks, will ya?"

  JR nodded and grabbed my case as I changed into one of our team shirts with The Chop Shop logo on it. Tonight, we all wore black, and for the competition tomorrow, the team and our gallery would all wear red. I locked the truck, and we headed for the door. Aaron waited just inside and I introduced them. JR disappeared to get me a cola. I signed in and noted which table I was on first, and who my opponent was.

  The competition was simple. Twenty guys squared off in a two out of three match elimination. The ten winners squared off in a second round of two out of three. With five finalists left, it got brutal, with the play going one on one, by league seed, until someone rose to the top.

  I knew my opponent in the first round. He was good, but not on my level, so when I dropped the first game to him, the room went wild. The vultures gathered for blood, and I knew I had to gather my wits and my focus. I heard Stacy's voice in my head telling me to breathe and find my center, things he'd learned in the martial arts years ago and taught me. I came back to take the next two games.

  While I played with the balls, Aaron chatted up Leon, whom I gathered didn't get the verbal memo from JR. Leon looked like he was having the time of his life. Aaron caught my eye and grinned. I smiled back and some of the tension of the day lifted from me. I watched Aaron work and wished Stacy where here to see it. He'd choke trying not to laugh and give the game away.

  Going into the final round, it was no surprise the reigning champion was one of the five players left. As the highest ranked player in the finals, he got to sit and watch the rest of us play for the chance to de-throne him. As the second place seed in the league, I sat out the first two competitions while the fifth- and fourth-place players fought for the chance to play the third-place man. The winner of that match had to play me to advance for the chance to play the top seed.