Bitter Taffy (3 page)

And Adam had run with it. He’d gotten a job, a boyfriend, and he’d be enrolled in school come fall. One little bit of kindness and Adam was here to put on a pot of coffee, feed Rico some
rockin’
chicken fajita soup with homemade bread and butter, and listen as Rico unloaded the worst moment of his life.

“Oh
man
!” Adam said, enthralled as a kid while Rico told about the staff presentation that turned out quite differently than he’d expected. “That’s….” He shook his head. “Oh man, Rico.
That’s
fucked up. I mean… I’m sorry. That’s harsh.”

Rico nodded and took another bite of the exquisitely flavored soup. “Who made this?” he asked. It had come out of a Tupperware container Rico had never seen.

“Someone in Finn’s family,” Adam said. “They cook for each other. Finn never makes just one loaf of bread—he makes six and then gives them to his parents, and
they
spread them around. His sister makes soup in like a fifty-gallon drum, and we get enough for a week. You shoulda been here at Easter. Apparently his mom makes these dessert cookies for
weeks
.”

Rico smiled, thinking that Adam had been getting love, and he was glad. “Sounds dire.”

Adam nodded and grinned so wide his cheeks appled. He had a dimple Rico had seldom seen, even when they were children. “Finn got
fat
,” Adam whispered. “We had to run Clopper around the neighborhood double-time for a
month
.”

“I heard that!” Finn mumbled sleepily from down the hall, and Rico had to laugh.

He pressed his palms up under his eyes to wipe them—again—and Adam handed him a napkin without a word. “You’re so happy,” Rico said, genuinely joyful in his heart for this. “Our whole lives, I’ve never seen you happy.”

Adam ducked his head and then looked at him shyly. “And I’ve never seen you hurt.” He reached awkwardly across the table and took Rico’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Rico. I’m so sorry you got hurt. You’re the best guy in the world—all I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

Rico tried to smile, because that was the sort of emotional honesty Adam wouldn’t have been brave enough to share before this past Christmas. Before Finn. But that thought just hurt more, because Rico had honestly thought he was going to be able to be brave like Adam. He’d have Ezra and his new job, and he could tell his family that he was gay too, and they could love him or ostracize him, but they couldn’t change him because that was just who he was.

To Rico’s horror, his smile collapsed, and then so did he, shoving his empty soup bowl and his coffee cup out of the way as he laid his head on the table and came undone.

Adam draped his warm, solid body over Rico’s back in the mother of all bear hugs and held him as he sobbed out the last of his helplessness—and the last of his hope—for the love and the future that he’d hoped would set him free.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried, but he had a hazy memory of Adam shoving two ibuprofen and a big glass of water at him before telling him to get undressed while Adam got sheets and blankets for the couch.

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with us for a while,” Adam apologized.

Rico grunted. “I have no job—you may be stuck with me so we can all make rent together.”

To his surprise, Adam grinned. “You say that like it would be a hardship. Dude, I’m sort of in love with your fuckin’ dog, you know that? I was wondering how I was gonna leave him behind.”

Rico remembered that moment when he’d fallen in love with Clopper at the animal shelter. It was a good one.

And then Adam made up his bed and Rico lay down on his surprisingly comfortable couch and fell asleep.

He woke up with a five-pound furry weight purring on his throat, and Adam calling to him over the back of the couch.

“Hm?” Oh, yawn, stretch, and be
very
grateful for those two ibuprofen, because otherwise he’d probably have a doozy of a headache. Rico wondered how Adam would know about that, and then didn’t. Adam would know.

“You need to get up,” Adam said, peering down at him, Finn over his shoulder. In the daylight, Adam looked dark and dangerous. Rico and Adam both had skin that was Mexican brown, but Adam’s time in the military had burnt his face a little darker. He had a sharp nose, hard jaw, and big liquid brown eyes—as well as visible neck tattoos. Finn, his pale boyfriend with the strawberry-blond hair and ginormous blue eyes, looked waifish and winsome next to hardass Adam, but Rico was sort of glad for him. Finn looked like he would understand who Adam
really
was, and not think the dangerous soldier who had grown up around the terrified boy was the real Adam at all.

“Whyfor?” Rico asked, blinking. “And what the fuck is this thing on my throat?”

Adam scooped up the fuzzy thing, then shifted it back about six inches to Rico’s stomach, where it regarded Rico from a pair of somber gold eyes.

“Rico, Jake. Jake, Rico. Rico, this is your cat. You told me to pick one after Gonzo died and I did. He’s all your fault. Anyway, we’re taking Clopper out for his morning dump. You’re getting up and showering so my boyfriend doesn’t have to see you naked, ’cause I don’t like competition.”

“Nice. I could shower after you leave for work.”

“Not if you’re coming with us,” Adam said, his tone brooking no bullshit. “Finn’s dropping me off at work, and you’re bringing your laptop. You can hang out in his parents’ deli and surf for a job—they got Wi-Fi, and it’s a good spring day.”

Rico blinked and wrapped his arm around Jake the cat, who drooled on him in retaliation. “I was gonna—”

“Wallow,” Adam said bluntly. “You were gonna hang out, pet the cat, and wish you were dead. Then you were gonna call your moms and not come out, and that woulda made you feel worse. Then you were gonna eat all the soup, all the bread, and most of the butter, not to mention the cookies we got in the freezer—”

“Cookies?” Rico said hopefully.

“I work in a candy store,” Adam wheedled. “Get your ass up and dressed and I’ll get you some chocolate truffles that’ll give you a boner.”

Rico glared at him. “That’s a lie. There’s no such thing.”

“As a boner? I beg to differ.” Adam smirked, so playful and so earnest that Rico couldn’t help it.

“Okay, fine. I’ll get up and shower and dress and go sleep sitting down in a café—”

“You can sleep upstairs from the café,” Finn said, surprising him. “It’s supposed to be my apartment, but it’s only got a single bed. Dad’s been using it as an office since me and Adam started sleeping here….” Finn grimaced. “I, uh… I mean, you probably want your bed back….”

Jake the cat purred comfortingly on Rico’s stomach, and Rico thought about how different this morning would have gone if Adam hadn’t been here with Finn and his bright and shiny new life and the hope that Finn seemed to have given him.

“Naw,” he said, thinking,
Hey, not like I’m gonna be doing anything hinky here anyway.
“If you guys don’t mind a roommate, I don’t mind the couch.”

“Great!” Finn smiled, and Rico wondered why Adam didn’t wear sunglasses all day. “C’mon, Adam—let’s let him get ready!”

And like that, Adam snapped the lead on Clopper’s halter and Finn grabbed the shit-sacks (Finn’s word) and they went running out into the early spring day.

Leaving Rico with maybe a twenty-minute window to not be naked and embarrassed when they got back. He was used to his building in New York now, where if he was lucky, the water lasted long enough for him to soap the half inch of his hair that had grown out. He was out in five, freshly shaved in ten, and had dressed and started the coffee before Adam and Finn came back in, smelling like incipient warmth and exertion, and bickering companionably.

“He will not,” Adam said as they came through the door. “He doesn’t know me—”

“From Adam!” Finn cracked.

Adam’s grunt sounded hard put-upon. “That’s right, Finn. The guy don’t know me from Adam—”

“He’s hit on you like twelve times—”

“Like once—”

“Twice—I was there the second time, remember?”

Adam looked up at Finn blankly. “He wasn’t hitting on me then,” he said, completely sincere. “He was giving me a job, remember?”

Finn gaped back, flailing his hands and sputtering. “I… don’t you… holy jebus mother trucking fucker! He’s your
boss
,
Adam. I mean, he gives you small jobs and takes a percentage and… he
knows
you. That makes him a contact!” He looked over to the counter to Rico, who stood bemused, eating a bowl of instant oatmeal, and shook his head. “Nothing. He knows
nothing
.”

And then he turned around and stalked off.

And then he turned, stomped back into the front room, and scowled.

“But you
do
know how to distract me. You
should
ask Derek if he’s got a job for Rico, ’cause when he’s not picking up on you, he’s not a bad guy!”

Adam sighed and scowled back obstinately, like Clopper did when Rico was trying to get him to go anywhere Clopper didn’t want to go first.

“I don’t want to ask him that, ’cause that would be taking advantage,” he said, sounding aggrieved. “The guy hires me to do artwork for him and his clients—and he can’t possibly need that much artwork—”

“Hence the picking up!”

Adam rolled his eyes when Finn’s voice trilled at the end of that last word. “It’s pity, Finn, okay? When he first gave me a job, I could barely afford dog food. He’s made me a part of his network, but I don’t want to take advantage of his… pity… to ask him if he needs a marketing guy for his firm—”

“Which he does, if you talked to
any
of his employees when you went into his office!”

Adam gaped at him. “Oh,” he said, sounding flummoxed. “But… you know… taking advant—”

“It’s called
networking
!” Finn wailed, obviously completely out of patience. He gestured to Rico and then back to Adam. “
You
talk to him. He thinks you walk on water. Get him to network a job for you, Rico!”

And then all of that energy and enthusiasm stalked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“There’s no towels in there,” Rico said, knowing his eyes had gotten big.

Adam swore, a pained grimace on his face. “I’ll take him a clean one and some underwear. He’s a little….”

“Excited,” Rico supplied, trying to keep his smile in check while Adam flailed for words.

“Finn. He’s just very, very Finn,” Adam said, nodding like that explained the secrets of the universe. “Do you have, like, a business card or something? ’Cause….” Adam flailed his hands in a very un-Adam-like gesture.

“Relentless,” Rico said, understanding.

Adam gave him a droll look. “Cousin, you got no idea. Here—I’m going to nuke some oatmeal and go get him his clothes. As usual, he spent forever on the john this morning, and now we’re running late.”

Rico couldn’t help it. He started to laugh behind his hand. For a minute he thought Adam was going to be mad, or, worse, would look at him laughing and assume he was laughing for all the wrong reasons, much like the kids in high school had done, because Adam had
not
been the most social guy back then.

But Adam just gave him a sour look and started to thrash around the kitchen, pulling out bowls Rico did not remember having and starting breakfast for him and his boyfriend.

When the microwave was whirring away, Adam looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “No idea,” he muttered and strode purposefully toward the bedroom like he had a mission.

Rico kept laughing softly because in their entire lives, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Adam happy.

It just gave him heart, that was all. He didn’t even remember the job until later.

L
ATER
WAS
really only an hour later, but it felt a lot longer.

They drove in Finn’s car, an old Dodge minivan, and Rico made a pained sound as he got stashed in the middle seat.

“Did I or did I not leave you the Crown Vic?” Rico asked, aggrieved. Yeah, it was a cop’s car—or it would be, if the cops drove their Crown Victorias in burgundy—but he’d gotten it cheap when he was right out of college. He’d always felt invincible in that car.

Adam looked abashedly at him from the passenger’s seat. “Uhm, you know, Rico, when I got here, I mean—”

“He could barely afford food,” Finn said bluntly. “He’s taken it out a few times since Darrin made him a manager, but Rico, that car eats gas like gumdrops, you know that, right?”

Rico grunted. “Sorry, man—I didn’t think—”

Adam shrugged, looking straight ahead as Finn brought them to J Street and turned right. “It wasn’t a big deal—just meant I got to know the bus schedule real good for a while.”

Finn shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Oh my
God
. He was, like, running to Old Sac and back every day.
Running
.
And you should see what he was eating—”

“Finn, I love you, but please don’t,” Adam said simply. No smile, no banter, and Finn subsided, and Rico was left feeling like he’d never seen himself
or
Adam before.

“You didn’t say anything,” he said softly. “I knew things were tight, but you never said—”

“Rico, I love you, but please don’t,” Adam repeated, his voice a little harder this time.

Rico grunted into the silence. “So what
are
we supposed to be talking about?” he asked irritably.

“About whether or not Finn is ready for his finals this semester.” Adam sent Finn a sly sideways glance, and two pink crescents appeared on Finn’s cheeks.

“I take it that’s a no,” Rico said dryly, and they spent the next ten minutes of commute giving Finn a hard time about falling behind in his schoolwork because he’d fallen victim to a new video game and too much Red Bull.

“Classic rookie move!” Rico crowed. “That’s why you don’t buy the game until
after
you take your finals.”