Bound by Lies (39 page)

No sooner have the words passed his lips than Jenner is pulled down by Brayden who has set aside his coffee and crossed, barefoot and beautiful, over to him. Fingers sliding back into Jenner’s black curls, Brayden kisses him forcefully, stretching up on his toes, drawing Jenner down until Jenner loops his arms behind him and lifts, taking Brayden off of his feet. He tastes of Jenner’s spend, and sugar, coffee and life and everything that’s good.

They break apart, gasping. Jenner buries his face in the light, clean scent of Brayden’s hair, and the smell of soap on his skin.

“Thank you,” Brayden says quietly.

“I love you,” Jenner sighs, setting him down.

“I know,” Brayden smiles. “And I know it’s gonna be ugly. I realize that. But as long as I have you, it’ll be okay. I’ve lost so much, Jenn, and I know I’m gonna lose more before it’s done. I have to be okay with that. I’m really trying to be okay with it. I feel it, you know? The dread. The same dread would hit me when I was out on the beach, and the wind would pick up and the waves would begin to get stronger, and wilder, and there would be kids out in the water. There’s nothing for it. You can’t save everyone, as much as you might want to. You just take ’em as they come. Right now, it’s all about trying to hold on to the good. Andre is good. He really is. And it would mean
so much
to me if you could make some peace with him.”

Taking a deep breath, Jenner nods, utterly unable to deny the embodiment of his temptation, the owner of his heart. “Go get dressed.”

“Yeah,” Brayden agrees. He takes a last sip of coffee, sets it on the counter and walks away to get his phone.

“I might have an idea to defuse some of the tension with Andre,” Jenner murmurs.

With a raised eyebrow, Brayden expresses his doubt and curiosity with a glance.

“Just let me handle it. Trust me.”

“Yes, Master,” Brayden grins wickedly, glancing up and down Jenner’s body before retiring to the bedroom while peeling his shirt off and twisting it over his head. It gives Jenner a pristine view of the top of Brayden’s tight ass and the pair of dimples right above it.

Jenner bites his tongue and keeps his feet planted, fighting against the intense urge to chase and devour his prey, possibly literally.

“That’s not cute!” he calls.

“Fuck your cute,” Brayden retorts.

They arrange to meet up with Andre at a café halfway between their place and the Philadelphia airport. The public setting is meant to help keep things civil and everyone comfortable. On the way there, Jenner, driving Brayden’s Jeep, makes a detour that Brayden does not foresee or expect. When they pull up in front of Jenner’s old place, Max is sitting outside smoking a cigarette beside Art.

“What did you do?” Brayden laments.

“Called for back-up,” Jenner states simply, getting out but letting the engine run. To Max he says, “You ready?”

“Yep.” She crushes the butt against the pavement.

“Hey, I’m free too if you need me,” Art offers.

“Thanks,” Jenner tells him, “But we don’t want to gang up on him, or seem like we’re trying to.”

“Sure thing. I get it. Good luck, man.” He waves to Brayden, who gives a weak grin through the window.

Max climbs into the back seat, slides to the middle and leans forward between the seats.

“Nervous?” she asks with a wide smile, nudging Brayden.

Brayden grunts and gives Jenner the evil eye as he gets back behind the wheel.

“You wanna sit on Brayden’s lap for the ride, Maxie?” Jenner asks with blasé innocence. She stares at him, impassive, in the rearview mirror. “No? Then sit the fuck back and put on a seatbelt.”

“Like you’d let my pussy get that close to
Brayden’s lap
,” she shoots back as Brayden hides a tired expression behind a hand.

“This just wasn’t complicated enough for you, was it?” Brayden asks defensively under his breath, talking directly to Jenner.

“Max’s presence is key for the simple fact that it stops this from being a pissing contest, of which you are perfectly aware. Besides, we all know Maxie’s got a soft spot for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this on your own,” she tells Brayden. “No judging. Promise.”

But Brayden doesn’t meet her gaze. Staring blankly out the windshield instead, he grumbles, “Let’s just get this over with.”

During the ten minute drive, Jenner itches to take Brayden’s hand, but he can’t decide if it would make things worse or not, so he doesn’t give in to the impulse. It’s a quiet trip. He can see Max trying to get a read on Brayden, and catches her eye himself once in awhile in the mirror. She gives Jenner a supportive hint of a smile, looking like she’s proud of him, and it helps. He becomes more grateful that he called her.

Before they know it, they’re there. Jenner finds a spot at a parking meter on the street out in front of the café. It’s a sunny, mild day and people are sitting outside at little tables, though dressed in coats and layers. A warm, inviting aroma wafts into the Jeep as Brayden opens his door and swings a leg out.

“Gimme a minute or two,” he asks. “I need to clear my head before we do this.”

“Okay.” Jenner nods. Holding himself back, he gives Brayden the space he craves even as everything in Jenner screams out for him to stay by Brayden’s side, holding his hand like he should have done ten minutes ago.

The door closes heavily, leaving them in the isolated confines of the vehicle.

Max asks, “How are you holding up?”

“Swell,” Jenner tells her, scanning the people milling about for a man who meets Andre’s description and resembles that tiny photo on Enrique’s phone.

“You’re standing up for your boy. That’s a good thing, Parrish.”

“Yeah. I’m a great guy.”

There’s self-recrimination in his voice as he frowns at the sight of Brayden walking away, but before Max can call him on it his phone rings. It gives him pause, and she voices his thoughts exactly when she blurts, “Who the hell’d be calling you?”

He sees the caller I.D. flash and groans audibly. Putting the phone to his ear, he says, “Hey Ma.”

“Your brother tells me that you’re coming to Sunday dinner with your family.”

“I am. I’m so glad that Callum is as informative as ever on my behalf.”

“He’s just glad you’ll be there. He misses you.”

That makes Jenner laugh aloud. “That’s hilarious.”

“Your father misses you too. I’m going to make that vegetable lasagna just how you like it. We’ll open a bottle of wine and have a nice evening. I don’t want to keep you, I just had to call and tell you that I was happy you changed your mind. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too, Ma,” Jenner agrees, softening.

“Are you bringing anyone? I need to get a headcount so we’re prepared with enough food and all.”

Dread hardens in his gut. His heart beats faster. Some of his reaction must show on his face, because Max grips his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He overlays her hand with his and makes himself say the words. “Yeah, actually I am. There’s someone I’ve been seeing, so….”

“Good,” she says, sounding pleased. “I’m glad to hear it. You’ve been alone for too long, sweetie. Are you going to tell me their name?”

He tries. He really does.

After a few stuttered syllables, he closes his mouth, giving up.

“Well, anyway. They’re as welcome as you are. I love you, my sweet boy.”

“Love you too, Ma,” he manages, hoarsely.

“See you Sunday.”

He hangs up and grasps Max’s hand as it grips his shoulder harder. “Proud of you, Jenn,” she whispers, kissing his cheek.

With effort, he gets it together. He clears his throat and rolls his head on his shoulders.

“Take your time. There’s no rush,” she tells him. “Breathe.”

But there is a rush. Jenner sees Andre as he walks up to Brayden. Andre had been standing with his hands in his pockets at the front corner of the building, under the awning. He’s a towering, massive man. His bald head is covered in a grey knit hat and he’s wearing a navy woolen peacoat that only enhances his broad shoulders. He’s a handsome guy, Jenner is sad to see. But he’s sadder to bear witness to the huge smile that lights Brayden’s face upon seeing his former roommate and lover when Andre folds him into an embrace.

Before the jealousy even touches him, Jenner is flooded with doubt and chagrin. He feels like he shouldn’t be there, that he should have left this to Brayden after all. Andre grins at Brayden like an old, dear friend, touching the side of Brayden’s face lovingly. Jenner’s instinct is to drive away.

Max searches Jenner’s face, clearly with plenty to say, but she holds her tongue. Everything that’s happening out in front of the café reflects in the sadness painted over Jenner’s face. He’s not strong or controlling or cocky at all. He doesn’t feel at all like the man he’s become, who everyone expects him to be. He doesn’t have it all figured out. He’s not confident. He’s just the type of guy who would fall in love with and rescue a tiny kitten only to hide the fact that he did out of pure shame for daring to have a heart.

Max folds her fingers over Jenner’s, holding his hand since Brayden can’t.

It takes him a long time. Minutes pass. Slowly, an inner battle is waged and Max is left helpless on the sidelines, a spectator. Then, like a miracle, Jenner murmurs, “He needs me,” and reaches for the door handle.

He gets out of the Jeep and Max exhales her relief, saying softly, “That’s my boy.”

One glance at the Jeep, with Jenner inside it and talking on the phone, tells Brayden that he has only a minute or so of respite before being faced with the dreaded introductions. He uses the time to his advantage, wanting to speak to Andre alone first. Having Andre there, big as life, smiling down at Brayden with that happy grin he knows so well, Andre’s warm brown eyes twinkling –it’s a balm for Brayden’s aching heart.

“It’s really damn good to see you, man,” Brayden says, near to bursting with joy. He tries to stop smiling because his cheeks hurt from the strain and can’t manage it. The side of his face tingles where Andre touched it. “You look good in a coat.”

Andre laughs brightly. It’s a rich, deep, rolling sound. “And here I was, worried about you. Look at‘cha Marsha. I’ve never seen you so damn chipper.”

Bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, pressing his lips shut even if he can’t force his facial muscles to cooperate and ease up on the smile, Brayden lets himself enjoy the moment. Andre is really there. He came for the sole purpose of making sure Brayden is okay. It’s incredible.

Andre adds, “Or is that smile just because I came to rescue you from shitty weather?”

Looking up into Andre’s face, Brayden marvels at the oddity of seeing a knit hat on him. Grateful to be able to get lost in the familiar warmth of his friend’s eyes, Brayden is amazed at the worry creeping in on the edges of Andre’s expression—worry for Brayden’s safety. It helps Brayden appreciate what he has.

He’s blessed with a friend who would travel the length of the country just to make sure he’s all right. He has new friends too, and a new life. There are options, support, people who matter to him, people who count on him. He sees Andre—really sees him—and what Andre wanted them to have together. But Brayden knows it never could have happened. Unlike Brayden, Andre would have wanted a relationship. He would have lost Andre’s friendship and maybe broken Andre’s heart in the process.

Things between them have taken the best course possible. The could-have-beens might always be there between them, but the fact is that Brayden seems to have what he’s been looking for in Jenner and will get to keep Andre as a part of his life, too, if all goes well. So, he just says it. He stops being so scared, and stands up for himself for once.

“I’m in love with him, ’Dre. With Jenner. And I want you to be nice to him, because he’s trying. He really is. He’s not out and it’s scary for him to suddenly be in a committed relationship, but this really isn’t something you need to save me from.” Shaking his head, still smiling that unlikely smile, his hair tickling the sides of his face where it falls over his collar, Brayden keeps bouncing slightly to keep warm and also to expend excess energy.

The mirth and humor drains from Andre’s expression, too fast. People are chatting softly around them, bustling in and out of the shop with paper bags and cups of steaming coffee. Cars roll by on the street. The traffic lights change from red to green.

With a lowered voice, leaning down slightly so as not to be heard by anyone else, Andre says, “You said that shit has happened….”

“Oh, it has,” Brayden allows, matching Andre’s lowered volume. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s kind of a trip. I’m uh… I’m his slave. He gives me what I need, no matter how weird it might be, no judging, just trust, and in return, he gets to have from me what
he
needs.”

Anger burns hot and bright, in the set of Andre’s jaw, in his stance and the shrewdness of his gaze, so Brayden coaxes him, saying, “Go on. Be mad if you need to be, but be mad at
me
. Yes, we’ve had sex. Yes, I’ve done kinky shit. Yes, it was scary and a little out of control at first, but
I love him
. Do you hear me?”