Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 2.3 - Into the Light (3 page)
Read Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 2.3 - Into the Light Online
Authors: Kate Sherwood
“Team Christopher, as usual.” I took a cautious sip of my coffee. Evan had started bringing two travel mugs in the morning, one for him, one for me, both washed and filled by his housekeeper. Sometimes he gave me the wrong one, and my taste buds were assaulted by his insanely sweet and creamy atrocity, but everything was good on that day. Black and strong. I wondered if I could keep the topic on Ryan without getting Evan all worked up. It seemed worth a try. “He seems like a nice guy.”
“What, you picked that up in the two seconds you met him? Don’t just take Dan’s word for it, man—Dan’d be the first to admit that he’s a terrible judge of character.”
I wasn’t going to start lying to Evan about all this. “Uh—yeah, Danny’s an idiot. But I actually ran into Ryan yesterday. He helped me carry a chair, and we hung out a bit.”
“He—what is that, a new euphemism? Carrying a chair? What
does that mean?”
“This is a weird story.” Evan didn’t seem upset, exactly, but I wasn’t sure if he was actually calm or just hadn’t figured things out yet. “Why were you and Ryan shopping for chairs together?”
“We weren’t. I was carrying the chair home, and Ryan saw me and gave me a hand.” I took another sip of coffee while Evan digested the new details. “You’re picturing it with a little dining room chair, aren’t you? It was
big
, man. A huge, heavy armchair. I needed the help.”
Evan grinned. “I totally
was
picturing the two of you, walking down the street, carrying a tiny little chair. The armchair makes a lot more sense.” He frowned. “But, seriously—he just happened to be there?”
“It’s a small town, Evan. Don’t let your paranoia get out of control. Are you worried that he’s back for Danny, or that he’s stalking me?” I wondered how far I should push. “Either way, I don’t think this is something that needs to be a worry. He barely even mentioned Dan, the whole time we were talking. I think the only obsession he’s got is the one you’re projecting onto him.”
“Give me a break with the pop-psych terms, okay?” Evan was usually totally relaxed when he drove, to the point that I sometimes worried that he was going to let us drift right off the road. But today he was sitting up straight, both hands gripping the wheel at ten and two o’clock. It would have been kind of nice for him to have been looking that alert, if I didn’t have to see it as a sign that he was stressed. He probably had even less of his mind on the road now than he usually did.
“You’ve been with lots of people, Jeff’s been with lots of people, Danny’s been with lots of people. And now you’re all together, and it’s good.” I hoped I wasn’t overstating the case. “You’re okay with Tyler, aren’t you? And he was a lot more long-term than Ryan ever was, from
what I’ve heard.” It was a bit of a gamble, bringing up Tyler’s name. For quite a while, Evan had been totally paranoid about Danny’s friendship with an old boyfriend. But things seemed to have calmed down, there, so I was hoping that Evan could see the parallels to the current situation. And now that I thought about it, I was wondering about a parallel of my own; as far as I knew, Tyler had been straight right up until he met Danny.
I didn’t have anything new to say. “Evan—Danny doesn’t cheat on people. I don’t think Ryan’s back for Danny, but even if he was—it wouldn’t matter. You don’t have to trust Ryan, you just have to trust Danny.”
Evan was quiet for a while. Finally, I saw his shoulder muscles beginning to relax. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I do trust him.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to give me a quick look. “You and Ryan were hanging out? What’d you do?”
“Carried the chair, and then got lunch. Nothing big.” I was tempted to say more, but I held back. I’d had a couple conversations about bisexuality with Evan, before. He played for both teams, or at least he had before settling down with Jeff and Dan; and I’d admitted that I’d thought about it, at least on an intellectual level. But now that there was an actual person being considered, a real face rather than a featureless blur, I felt weird talking about it. Especially given that the guy I was thinking about—the guy that I was attracted to, if I was being honest about it all— was not exactly Evan’s favourite person.
So we found other things to discuss for the rest of the drive, and we worked all day, and then Evan dropped me off at my place that evening. He was halfway down the block on his way home by the time I made it up to the front porch and saw the piece of paper stuck to my door. The handwriting wasn’t familiar, but I saw Ryan’s name scrawled
at the bottom of the page. I tried to ignore the way my nerves all went on high alert.
I just wanted to check in. My cell number is 555-6213, if you want to talk about anything, or if you just want to hang out.
- Ryan
I folded the note carefully and put it in my pocket, then went inside and pulled a beer out of the fridge. Did I want to talk about anything? Did I just want to hang out with him? I had absolutely no idea.
I took the beer into the office and sat down in my new chair. It still felt perfect, comfortable and just right, somehow. I hadn’t known I’d wanted it, but I’d let myself be open to the possibility, and I was glad of it. It was a pretty long stretch, going from buying a chair to opening the door to a whole new aspect of my sexuality, but it was the best I had.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Ryan’s number. When he answered, he was almost yelling, and I could hear a lot of noise in the background.
“No, just hang on.” I waited, and the noise faded out before Ryan’s voice was back, at a normal volume. “Sorry. We just finished working, and the guys were screwing around.”
“Yeah, no problem.” I didn’t really know how to proceed. I should
have practised this, maybe. Damn. “I, uh—thanks for the note. I mean— for making the effort, or whatever.” Yeah, I was smooth.
“You seemed a bit freaked out yesterday. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His voice was warm, and I didn’t feel like he was judging me at all. That helped.
“Yeah.” I needed to get to the point or get off the phone, and I really didn’t want to get off the phone. At least not without a plan of some sort. “So, have you eaten? Dinner, I mean.” I didn’t think I’d been this awkward since high school, but I tried to keep fighting through it. “If you haven’t, maybe we could get a bite.”
I was tempted to play dumb, to say something about everyone needing to eat, but I knew that wasn’t what he was really asking about. I tried to be honest. “Not totally sure, no. But—I’d be up for dinner, at least. If you want.” And then the nerves came back. “Or some other meal. Or some other time. Or, not at all, you know, if you’re busy. I mean, you just got back to town, and I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do with the band, and everything.” I finally managed to stop.
“Or if I need to wash my hair? Was that going to be next?” Ryan sounded amused, and that hadn’t really been my goal, when I’d made this call, but I absolutely couldn’t blame him.
Into the Light | Kate Sherwood
dealing with a woman, I would have suggested a time for me to pick her up; but did that seem emasculating, with a guy? Would he want to drive himself? Or maybe we should go somewhere in town, and we could both walk. But then, should I walk by his place and pick him up? That’s what I’d have done with a woman. Damn it, I needed a manual.
I guess I paused for too long, because Ryan’s voice was amused, again. “You freaking out already? I thought you’d at least make it to the restaurant.”
“No! I mean—yeah, I’m a little off my game, but I’m just—I’m not reconsidering, I just have no idea what I’m doing.” The total honesty approach seemed like my only defense.
“Do you know where you want to eat? Do you want to stay in town, or go somewhere that people won’t see you—keep it on the down low?” I honestly couldn’t sense any emotion other than gentle curiosity in his voice. I had a feeling that Ryan was making this really easy for me.
“No, not the down low. I mean—I don’t think so. We’re just having dinner, right? I’m not saying I want to put out a formal announcement, but I don’t need to be sneaking around. It’s not like my boss is going to flip out if he thinks I’m gay.” Jesus, it felt weird to use the word. And wrong, I guess, because there had never been anything fake about my attraction to women. But bisexual felt too formal, and bi-curious made me think of college girls making out with their friends to get some guy’s attention.
me
? I don’t think I’m his favourite person.”
“I told him we had lunch, yesterday. He was okay with it. And it’s not like he’s got a problem with
you
, personally. He’s just a bit jealous, sometimes. He’s trying to get over it, he says.”
“And Dan? I haven’t talked to him, since yesterday—am I
supposed to be telling him about this, or is it a secret?”
“Yeah. I’ll—I don’t know. There’s no point in talking to him about it if there’s nothing to talk about, right? I mean—I don’t know, am I being an asshole about this? Like, am I using you, or something?”
“My eyes are open, man. You’re considering a possibility, that’s all. I get it.” I guess he could tell I still wasn’t sure. “Does it make it better or worse if I tell you that Dan was kinda the same way, when the two of us hooked up? He wasn’t sure if he was ready for something new, and he told me that, and I was okay with it. So, you know—you’re not unique, or anything.”
“How about if you remind yourself that I am a damn rock star?” There was humor in his voice. “You’re waffling around like you think you’ve got some big decision to make—but really, you’re just trying out for the part. I am
far
from sure that you’re hot enough to make the cut.”
“Ouch.” But, actually, it did help. It got us back a lot closer to two guys having a meal together, and maybe,
maybe
considering something more. “So I should start focusing on impressing you, huh? Wining and Dining, maybe?”
“That’s one option.” There was a pause, and for the first time I felt like maybe Ryan wasn’t quite sure about things. When he finally spoke, it seemed like it wasn’t all he wanted to say. “Or we could just relax about it all.”
Into the Light | Kate Sherwood
to try the Fireside, or should we go into the city?” There were advantages to living in a small town—it wasn’t too hard to choose a restaurant.
“The Fireside’s fine. But I used to play there—if you thought there were lots of people wanting to say hi to me at Zio’s, wait until we get to the Fireside.”
He agreed, and we arranged to meet at the restaurant in an hour. That gave me time to shower, and get changed. I wasn’t really sure what to wear. I’d been to the place often enough to know that it was pretty casual, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to wear jeans on a first date, if that’s what this was. If this had been a woman, I would have suggested somewhere dressier, probably. But maybe not. Robyn had been a friend for a long time before we started dating, and we’d never really done that get-dressed-up-and-try-to-impress thing. But then, we hadn’t lasted, so maybe I shouldn’t be using that as some sort of a model for the right way to do things.
I was really tempted to call Danny. I was pretty sure that his noadvice rule wouldn’t extend as far as fashion decisions. But he didn’t generally care a lot about clothes, or how he looked—he didn’t really have to try too hard, apparently. Evan generally looked pretty put-together, but I didn’t want to have that fight until I had to. Or not at all, if this thing didn’t go anywhere.
The person I really would have liked to have talked to was Justin. When he was in the hospital, before he died, and I’d go and visit him a couple times a week, and just babble. I mean, he wasn’t responding at all, so there was no way to have a real conversation. At the start, it had felt awkward, doing all the talking, but after a while I’d gotten used to it. It had been okay, just telling him about what was going on, what I was thinking and feeling. But that wasn’t the Justin I wanted right now. I wanted the old Justin, the healthy one, who’d been my best friend since
we were little kids. It still hit me sometimes, the surprise pain of realizing that he was gone for good.
But I didn’t have time to think about that, thankfully. I pulled a shirt out of the back of the closet. It had been Justin’s, but Danny had done the wash and shrunk it, so Justin gave it to me. I’m not all that small, but Justin had been pretty huge. Danny probably could have worn it, but Justin said that would just be rewarding him for never learning what went in the dryer and what didn’t. It was a nice shirt, some sort of soft, almost flannelly cotton, and a rich, dark blue. That and a newish pair of jeans, and I was set.
It was still a bit early, so I sat in my new chair and tried to calm down. I thought back to my stereotype of bi-curious college girls, and I decided that maybe they weren’t the worst role models I could have. Why did I need to label everything? Why did I need to have tidy little boxes for myself? If the college girls could experiment a little and have it not be a big deal, then maybe I could do that too. I mean, okay, I was twenty years older than they were, but, still—wasn’t late better than never?