Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (10 page)

That actually made sense, Kelly realized with a fair bit of relief. Tiger -- or Harry, as Kelly had known him when they’d competed against each other -- would definitely have told his staff about the new status of the business, especially if there hadn’t been enough money for the repairs and such beforehand. And as odd as it still seemed that the guy Kelly had chosen to dance with was one of Tiger’s --
their
-- employees, it kind of made sense. Kelly was gay, he was in a gay club, and he’d decided to dance with someone who could move. It was highly likely that he’d subconsciously noticed the sort of fluidity even a part-time martial arts student possessed, and that would explain why he’d decided to dance with Leonard in the first place.

“No big,” Kelly agreed, twisting the cap from his own bottle. “And you’re right. My lying skills are... well, sadly lacking, as my little sister’s said about a million times since she first learned how to speak in complete sentences. So you said you’re a teacher. How do you...” He saw someone out of the corner of his eye who might be Riley. The man had the same size and shape thing going on, anyway. Unfortunately, when Kelly turned and locked eyes on that figure, it wasn’t who he thought it was. “Crap! Where the hell did he go?”

Leonard only smiled slightly, one side of his mouth tipping up like he was both amused and disappointed. “I guess it’s just as well,” he said, but he didn’t elaborate when Kelly looked back at him. “So. Your roommate. The ‘straight’ guy. He’s got you all twisted up, doesn’t he?”

Kelly frowned. “As if. We’re friends. That’s all.” Friends who’d kissed, but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. And Kelly hated that it didn’t, damn it.

***

Riley wasn’t sure about when Kelly had left the club the night before. And he didn’t care, either. He knew he didn’t care because he’d been telling himself so all night long. He’d tossed and turned, and punched his pillow enough times that he would have been up on domestic violence charges if there had been a pillow-abuse division to the Hartford Police Department. He’d finally managed to doze off around three a.m., only to be woken less than two hours later by the sounds of a motorcycle engine and Goober’s weird-ass chuffing noises that weren’t quite barks.

He’d heard Kelly coming up the stairs to the apartment and even heard the key in the lock. He’d followed the small shush-shush-shush of Kelly’s steps, muffled by the rugs, and when he’d heard the door to the guest room close and the small squeaks of the bed there, he’d finally managed to really sleep. Not for long enough, because he’d woken again at ten feeling grumpy and sour, but some sleep was better than none and Goober needed a walk, anyway. Riley could tell by the way the dog whined and stared at the door that led downstairs, once Riley managed to slip into a pair of shorts, sneakers, and a T-shirt.

There wasn’t a single chance that Riley was going to the gym; he knew that much. With the mood he was in, he’d only snap at everyone he saw. He was too tired, anyway, after four Cosmopolitans followed by being up so late. And fuck, would it have killed Kelly to call? To tell Riley he was okay but getting his gay groove on?

Riley snarled to himself as he walked Goober. The dog was all over the place, but it didn’t much matter, and Riley couldn’t bring himself to take his foul mood at Goober’s owner out on the dog.

“Riley!”

It caught him by surprise, being hailed that way. He’d been so busy thinking dark thoughts he couldn’t explain that it actually took him a moment to blink. When he did, though, Riley saw Andre, Bev’s husband, leaning on the fence that surrounded their place.

“Hey, man,” Riley answered, trying to smile as he dragged Goober along in the opposite direction of whatever smell the dog was interested in. “How’s it going?”

Andre shrugged and offered up one of the polite kind of smiles that never looked sincere to Riley. “It’s good to be home,” he said. “I missed Bev and the kids. I heard you have a new, uh... tenant.”

Riley almost smiled at the hesitation before Andre’s last word. It wasn’t any secret that Peter used the downstairs apartment of Riley’s house for
special friends
. This time, it didn’t seem to be true, though, and regardless of what Riley thought Kelly had been up to the night before, Kelly wasn’t Peter’s newest trick.

“It’s not like that, man,” Riley said. Then he explained the situation, as far as he understood it, which wasn’t far because Peter still hadn’t fucking returned any of Riley’s calls. “So, Bev told me you went back home to see your mom.”

Best way to change the subject ever, because Andre frowned and looked down, then shrugged. “I’m sure that’s not all she said. And she’s right. I need to choose and I don’t want to, but I can’t keep letting my wife and kids feel like they aren’t good enough. And Mom will never think they are. She made that very clear this time.” He sighed.

God, it wasn’t just him who had family and relationship issues, Riley realized. He’d been wondering lately, because all his friends seemed so fucking secure. Jer with Ballard, the twinkies with each other... and sure, he felt sort of shitty for being glad to hear about Andre’s problems, but at the same time, it was a relief. Even so, Riley wondered.

“Dude. Did you ever think about taking the kids to see your mom?” He winced even as he asked, because of course Andre would have thought of that. Duh. The guy was a fucking college professor, for fuck’s sake. “Sorry. Never mind.”

Goober chose that moment of inattention to yank hard at the leash, and the next thing Riley knew, the fucking dog was galloping down the middle of the God damned street. “Oh, fuck! Kelly’s gonna kick my fucking ass if I let anything happen to Dogzilla!”

Riley didn’t realize Andre had jumped the fence and followed him in his mad dash after Goober until Goober pulled a move that should have been impossible, according to physics -- somehow stopping in mid-leap and reversing his direction by a hundred and eighty degrees, seemingly without losing momentum. The dog slammed into Andre’s chest, and Andre’s “Ooof!” was accompanied by Goober’s sudden whining to be let go, but Andre kept his arms locked around the big-ass demon-dog. The big-ass demon-dog who then turned to licking Andre’s face with maximum enthusiasm and an equal amount of slobber.

“Oh, that’s gross,” Andre groaned, then he spit after Goober’s tongue slipped into his mouth. “God, I’m going to have to gargle with bleach before I can even kiss my wife again!” Even so, he was laughing. “Come get your drool-machine, Riley. I’m not interested in prolonging the relationship.”

It was still funny fifteen minutes later, when Samuel and Belinda, Andre and Bev’s kids, were being treated to the same experience. The kids took it with squeals of laughter rather than exclamations of disgust. Then again, that was what kids did, as far as Riley knew. When he’d been that young, he hadn’t been allowed near animals, but he was pretty sure it was normal from what he’d seen since.

“She’s seen pictures. My mom, I mean.” Andre sounded sad when he said it. “We sent them for the first few years. Then Mom said to stop. She didn’t want to see any more of them.”

It took a minute for Riley to remember what Andre was responding to, what with the mad dash to rescue Goober from absolutely nothing, but when he did recall his question, he frowned. “Dude. That sucks.”

Andre’s lips twitched into a sickly looking smile. “It does. Because I love my mother, but I love Bev and the kids, too. It’s been... difficult.”

Obviously. But Riley didn’t say as much. There was no way it
couldn’t
be difficult. Andre’s mother had somehow managed to put him through school by cleaning offices and working retail, according to Andre, and Riley didn’t doubt that she was proud of him. But then Andre had gone and married someone his mother didn’t approve of, and that dislike wasn’t based upon who Bev was or even Bev’s personality, but the color of her skin, and that was just stupid, as far as Riley was concerned. It wasn’t up to him to say so, but God, he wanted to.

“Guess your mom’s birthday wasn’t as much fun as it could have been, but it still could have been worse, right?” Riley tried, smiling.

Andre snorted. “I doubt it. But it’s over for now. So tell me about this Kelly person. I can tell you like him, so why aren’t you guys together, since you know he’s not here for your uncle?”

Riley’s entire body seemed to seize. Except his mouth. “What?”

“You’re walking his behemoth of a pet, Riley,” Andre said, sounding so reasonable Riley could have clocked him. “And you had this sort of wistful tone when you were talking about him before.” Andre smiled again but it looked more real, less forced. “I could be wrong, but I figure there’s something going on that would surprise your ex-girlfriends.
Am
I wrong?”

Fuck if Riley knew what to say to that, other than “Dude. Seriously? I’m not fucking...
fucking
Kelly. Hate to disappoint you, but I’m still straight.” He was. Mostly. Except where Kelly was concerned, apparently. Because Riley had spent every moment after he’d walked away from Kelly at the club just looking at different types of men and trying to imagine kissing them, touching them, having them touch him... and not a single one of the guys he’d looked at and considered had done much of anything for him.

Sure, he’d been able to appreciate nice pecs, killer abs, tight-looking asses, and strong thighs, but when it came down to it, Riley hadn’t been truly turned on by any of them. Then he’d caught sight of a guy on the dance floor whose body moved just so, who had long, denim-encased legs and wasn’t overly bulky, wasn’t bubble-butted. Who had a fluidity of motion that only showcased his form. And that guy had turned while dancing with someone, and that simple rotation had shown Riley that the man who’d had his body stirring was exactly the answer because it was Kelly, still dancing with that long, lanky fucker who Riley hated. Then Kelly had gone and stayed out all night, probably with the fucking redhead, and it was a damned good thing Riley wasn’t planning on exploring the unexpected attraction.

Kelly had a boyfriend, apparently. Good for fucking Kelly. Riley wasn’t looking for a boyfriend at all, though he wouldn’t have said no if the possibility had arisen the night before. With Kelly, of course. But fuck it. Kelly was apparently seeing someone. Or had indulged in a fucking one-night stand, and that would be way better, for fuck’s sake. Riley could understand one night. Fuck if he hadn’t done that himself, not so long ago. With chicks, yeah, but fucking for one night didn’t have to mean forever, no matter what gender someone was.

All that ran through Riley’s mind in a flash.

“Kelly’s just a friend,” he repeated, meeting Andre’s eyes. “I’m walking his fucking dog because I didn’t want it taking a shit on my floor. And because Kelly was out until five this morning, doing fuck knows what with some dude he met last night. So, yeah. I’m gonna say you’re wrong.”

Andre chuckled and shook his head. “All right. If you say so, I have no choice but to accept that. I still don’t think I’m wrong, though.”

Beverly joined them just a few seconds later, looking fresh and sharp, and Riley had never been so glad to see her in his life.

***

Kelly woke up around noon, still grinning from the night -- the very, very late night -- before. Leonard still wasn’t his type, but the man had proven to be good company and more knowledgeable about the renovations to the martial arts school than Kelly expected.

Of course, Leonard also claimed to be in the know about men, which he might very well be. Though Leonard looked to be in his very early thirties, the man freely admitted to the big four-oh approaching rapidly. Unless Leonard had only been out as a gay man for a little while, he likely had far more experience with men than Kelly. Still, Leonard wasn’t necessarily infallible because there was no way Riley had been acting jealous at the club. Even Riley’s gay friends believed Riley was straight, and in Kelly’s limited experience, gay men knew when their friends were not-gay.

Kelly stretched, the sheets smooth beneath his back as he turned to look at the clock. God, Goobs was probably desperate for a walk, Kelly realized. He should have taken the poor dog out before going to sleep, but Goobs hadn’t acted anxious; he’d just seemed glad that Kelly was back, then had jumped on the couch again and lay down to sleep more. Seven hours later, though, the poor dog was probably about to burst.

Or else he already pissed and dumped all over the floor. But no. He would have barked to wake me up if he was that anxious. Goober’s all about making his own personal human toe the line.
It was true, too, Kelly reminded himself with a grin. Goobs had never been shy about demanding what he needed, once the tiny puppy Goobs once was had learned that Kelly could be trusted. So unless Kelly had been sleeping too soundly to hear him, the dog was fine.

“Only for the moment,” Kelly reminded himself, his own voice urging him to get a move on. “And if I don’t get my butt in gear, who’s to say I won’t hear about unexpected pet-mess from Riley?”

The apartment was silent when Kelly crossed the hallway, a change of clothes clasped to his naked groin. Fifteen minutes later, after showering, brushing his teeth, and shaving away the sixteen chin hairs he owned, it was less quiet. Kelly rushed, getting into his jeans, damp skin slowing the process, then pulled on a T-shirt before dragging his wet hair from beneath the neckline. Water trailed into the cotton, dampening the back of the shirt, but Kelly was used to that. He’d forgotten socks, of course, but that was fine. His boots were entirely comfortable without them, for about five seconds. If Goobs was even remotely needful of grass and dirt, it wouldn’t take much longer than that.

“Hey,” Kelly greeted, strolling into the living room and seeing Riley sitting on the couch. “Goober didn’t do anything... messy, did he?” Because that was the only explanation Kelly could think of for the way Riley was glaring. “Sorry, man. Look, I’ll clean it up, okay? Or I owe you one if you already did it.”

Riley’s gaze moved, shifting from Kelly to the television in a way that implied that glare was still there. “Don’t worry about it,” Riley said. “I took him out a couple hours ago. The Hendersons, down the street, think he’s the shit. The kids want to know if he can come ‘play’ every day.”