Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (7 page)

“You know what?” Riley added, setting his half-full coffee mug in the sink, “I don’t care. Fuck it. I’ve got things to do. I’m out of here.”

Kelly blinked but Riley ignored it. He just pushed past the guy and headed for the front door. He only paused long enough to push his feet into his untied trainers and grab his wallet and keys. Some time on his own would be a good thing, Riley decided as he got into his Bronco and backed out onto the street. It was probably having Kelly and Goober in his place when he was used to living alone that had him so irritated.

Yeah. That had to be it.

***

Riley’s little tantrum had been unexpected. Kelly hadn’t figured him for the type. “Then again, Goobs,” he said as he packed up his things in the suitcases again, “I can’t say I blame him. We sort of descended on him and took over, didn’t we?”

Goober cocked his head, looking for all the world like he was considering Kelly’s words, and Kelly laughed. It wasn’t much of a laugh, but it was all he could manage. “I’m guessing he’s starting to feel crowded after five days. He’s obviously used to living alone. So let’s just get everything ready to go, and I’ll call Peter Jamison to ask about the keys for downstairs. Maybe Riley will feel better if he knows we’re actually trying to get out of his hair.” And Kelly made yet another mental note to call Justin about packing up the apartment in San Francisco. He’d put it off for long enough, even without meaning to. He’d just been... sidetracked was a good word, Kelly figured. Yeah.

Truthfully, Kelly thought he’d feel better himself once he and Goobs weren’t imposing on Riley’s good nature anymore. And it wasn’t as though they would be going far. Only down a flight of stairs. “We’ll still see Riley, buddy. Just not all the time. It’ll be fun.” And maybe Kelly could talk to Peter Jamison about putting in a fence in the back yard. That way Goober would be able to spend the day outside while Kelly was at work. Or part of the day, anyway. Whatever. He would figure that out later. First he needed to get in touch with the landlord, though from what Riley had said in passing, that was no easy task.

No easy task for Riley, I guess,
Kelly qualified silently, less than an hour later.
Peter sure didn’t waste any time calling
me
back. Maybe they’re having problems. Which don’t involve me, obviously, so I’m not even going there.

Kelly found the key to the first floor apartment right where Peter -- Kelly couldn’t keep calling him by his full name after talking to the man and being invited to use less formal terms -- had said it would be. On a small nail behind the framed watercolor-and-ink painting in the lower hall. The bottom lock seemed to have been oiled recently because the key slid in and turned with barely any effort, making an almost soundless click.

“Well, Goobs,” Kelly muttered, one hand on the doorknob while the other rested on Goober’s head, “here goes nothing...” He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he opened the door and stepped inside, because that was when that held breath burst from his lunge with a loud whoosh. “I take it back. This is... definitely not
nothing
. This is totally
something
.” Goobs huffed a bark, clearly agreeing.

The apartment was bigger than Riley’s. That was the first thing Kelly noticed. Of course, it didn’t have the deep widow’s walk of the second story, so that made sense. The door entered directly into the living room. Painted recently, because Kelly could smell very faint fumes that suggested as much. The walls were a shade of white that was tinted to a tone somewhere between vaguely yellow and slightly orange. It was a warm shade, reasonably neutral, and seemed to amplify the sun coming in through the widely spaced windows.

The floor was shining wood, but nowhere near as dark as the one upstairs. Clover-honey, rather than espresso. It looked like it had been refinished in the very recent past, and seemed to extend throughout the apartment from what Kelly could tell without moving.

Goober didn’t have any problem with moving, because while he did wait patiently for a few brief seconds -- that was about as patient as Goobs ever got -- he took off across the living room to the hall, hard nails clacking against the wood, and Kelly winced. “Goober! Stop! The last thing we need is to mess up the floors!” God, he didn’t even want to think about what it would cost if Goobs managed to do any real damage. Hardwood floors didn’t come cheap. “God, Peter will kill me if we wreck this place, and I’ve only seen the living room. If the rest of it’s this nice, I’m already in trouble. Crap.”

Trouble didn’t even begin to cover it because the kitchen had obviously been updated just as recently as the floors. So had the bathroom attached to the master bedroom. There was a huge corner tub and a separate shower stall with more knobs than Kelly had ever seen before, even at his mom’s and Doug’s place back home, though it looked as if the grout work hadn’t been completed yet.

There was only one bedroom, unlike upstairs at Riley’s, but because of the guest bathroom in the hall between the living room and kitchen, Kelly suspected two smaller rooms had been combined when the renovations had been done. The bedroom still needed painting, it looked like, but aside from that?

The warm wall color from the living room extended up to the bedroom doorway, and the beautiful flooring passed right through. Kelly spent a moment wondering why the insanely affordable first floor apartment was both bigger and more modernized than the apartment Peter’s
close friend
occupied. It seemed weird.

Then Goober started howling at the back door and Kelly forgot all about that while he moved to let the dog out. Goobs wouldn’t go far as long as Kelly was there. It was when Kelly was away that was always problematic. That was when Goober got the urge to wander.

“Maybe it’ll be okay once our things get here. Goobs will realize this is home and be able to find his way back if he has to.” His voice echoed slightly, but in a good way. Then he considered how his belongings would look in the new apartment. “Oh, crap!” That time the echo was less good.

He sounded... embarrassed, Kelly figured, which was fair enough. When he pictured his less-than-new and sometimes threadbare things in the stylish space surrounding him, Kelly
was
embarrassed. He wasn’t really the sort to be concerned over appearances, but there was a big difference between his new place and the old, creaky, walk-up one bedroom he’d had in San Francisco. His stuff had seemed just fine there, but here? When he thought about it,
Riley’s
furniture was at least three times better than what Kelly had back at his old place, and even Riley’s things would be out of place in this apartment. “Crap.”

There was only one thing for it, and while Kelly hated to do it, he took a deep breath and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hey, Doug,” he said when the call went through. “How’s it going?”

His stepfather laughed. “Same old thing. As usual. There’s some kind of problem with the new plant. I sent Dmitri down there to handle things, but I doubt you want to hear the details. Two calls in less than a week tells me something’s wrong. Out with it, son. If I can help, I will.”

Doug meant it, too. That he’d help, and that he thought of Kelly as a son. Kelly knew that, but it never failed to give him a tiny thrill of warmth. His mother could have married anyone after Kelly’s father left them. Kelly had been lucky that the man she’d chosen -- Douglas Roderick -- had accepted him and even offered to legally adopt him less than a year after the wedding. Kelly hadn’t quite trusted Doug then, of course, and had been used to being an O’Conner, but even so. Doug never treated Kelly any differently than Kelly’s siblings -- technically half-sibs -- Robin and Amanda, who were Doug’s biologically. No, Kelly had been more than lucky, really, and that wasn’t something he would ever take for granted. Even so, he felt himself blushing when he replied.

“Um, your friend. Peter.” That was all he got out before Doug was laughing again.

“He’s a trip, isn’t he? I mean, he’s brilliant and everything. Hell, son, he’s part of the reason Roderick Products and Manufacturing Company is so successful, but he’s definitely whatever the grown-up equivalent of a spoiled brat is. Always was, probably always will be.” Yeah, there was that tone Doug got whenever he talked about Peter Jamison. Affectionate and frustrated. It was almost the same as the way Doug sounded when he talked about the crazy things Robin and Mandy got into sometimes.

Kelly couldn’t help chuckling a little in return. “I haven’t actually met him yet, but he sounded pretty cool on the phone. The thing is, I’m standing in what’s supposed to be my new apartment and it’s... crap, Doug, it’s really, really nice. Even without anything in it. It’s... way nicer than I thought it would be for the rent he wants, and...” Well, he might as well say it, Kelly figured. Doug was the one who’d told him about Peter’s habit of acquiring young men in a serial fashion. “And the guy upstairs. Riley. His place isn’t anything close to this nice but it’s still so much better than my old place, and I just...”

“Use the card I gave you before you left,” Doug said, interrupting Kelly, which was likely a good thing. Kelly had a feeling he hadn’t been making much sense. “I know you’re determined to make it on your own, Kelly, and you know I respect that. But you’re going into business, and money’s likely to be tight for a while. Use the card and we’ll call it a loan. You can pay me back once your martial arts school starts making enough to recoup your investment and pay the bills.”

While Kelly felt a little bit like a child, he also couldn’t deny that he’d been hoping Doug would say exactly that. It didn’t stop him from apologizing, though. “I. Thanks. It’s just that this place is so nice. My stuff would look... incredibly crappy in here. Um, I’m not going to go crazy or anything. Promise.” He amended his mental note about calling Justin. He would still ask his friend to pack and ship Kelly’s personal items, but Kelly would ask Justin to deliver the crappy furnishings and such to the dump, unless Justin knew anyone who might want them. “I won’t abuse it,” he added sincerely.

A sound came through the connection, as though Doug couldn’t decide between snorting and grumbling, so had decided to combine the two. “There’s a reason I gave you that card, son, and it’s because I trust you. I can’t say I’m entirely convinced that a martial arts school on the other side of the country is the best way to use the money you saved, but I’m no martial artist. Besides, you have a good head for business, even without getting your degree. So I trust you to make wise choices and not spend more than you can afford to pay back eventually. Unlike your brother and sister. Amanda could spend the annual income of a small nation in less than a day. “

Oh, that had Kelly grinning ear to ear. “She could,” he agreed. “It’s probably best not to tempt her. So, moving on,I’m still really curious about why this apartment is so much better than the one Peter has Riley staying in. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Why? Because Riley is Peter’s nephew?” Doug sounded distracted, and Kelly could suddenly hear papers being shuffled. “Okay. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be telling you this, but Peter’s actually on a break. Between... ‘special friends,’ as he calls them. That’s the whole reason he had that apartment available. It’s probably why it’s nicer than Riley’s, too. Riley looks after the house, and his uncle doesn’t charge him rent in return for the favor, but my understanding is that Riley refused when Peter offered to renovate the upstairs, as well.” Doug cleared his throat. “Hang on a second, son.”

There was a muffled sort of rumbling that came through the line, probably because Doug had his hand over the phone, but Kelly didn’t care. He was too busy trying to process the idea that Riley had lied to him. Had been lying for the entire five days since Kelly had arrived at the house. Riley had said Peter Jamison was a close friend. Riley for damned sure hadn’t said Peter was his uncle. But what Doug had said did explain the differences between the two apartments. Especially the difference in the size of bedrooms. Bedroom, singular, in Kelly’s case.

“Crap.”

“Sorry. I’m back now. I hate to cut this short, but I have Dmitri on hold. Apparently things are worse than I thought in Mexico. Can I call you later?” Doug sounded stressed all of a sudden, and Kelly sighed but agreed.

“That’s fine, Doug. And thanks. You know... for everything. Um, tell Mom I love her and I’ll call her soon, okay? Robin and Mandy, too.”

“Of course, Kelly. That’s a given.” Doug hung up without saying goodbye, but Kelly was used to that. He found himself a little bit worried about whatever the situation was in Mexico, but most of him was divided between being angry over Riley’s lie and excited at the idea of furnishing the new place in the manner it deserved. He might have stood there for hours, just thinking, if Goober hadn’t chosen to bark suddenly, running to the living room window that faced onto the street.

Riley was home, Kelly saw when he followed the dog and looked out. Home and apparently bogged down with bags because the man spent a good two minutes dragging plastic grocery sacks from the back of the Ford.

“Guess we should go help the lying jerk, huh?” Kelly asked Goober. He left the new apartment, smiling when Goobs barked again as if to say
duh
. Kelly deliberately ignored his unexpected relief that Riley wasn’t sleeping with the landlord, though. There was no reason for him to be relieved, and Riley was a liar, so it shouldn’t even have mattered.

Except it did, and Kelly knew it.

Chapter Six

“Feeding an army?”

Riley turned slowly -- ponderously, weighted as he was. “Nah. Just noticed we were out of pretty much everything, man. Hard to make breakfast without any fucking food, right?”

The trip to the store, as well as the time spent wandering up and down each aisle, had been therapeutic, in a way. At least Riley didn’t feel all fucking growly and grumpy anymore. Not after he’d run into a girl he’d once dated. Tessa’d had a kid who looked about three holding on to her pants leg and an infant she’d said was sixteen weeks old in a carrier attached to the basket part of her shopping cart. Even with the toddler constantly trying to pull things from the shelves with one hand and the baby being fussy, she’d looked happy. She was, according to her, and Riley believed it.

He’d expected to feel some sort of guilt for the way he’d dated her for close to a month and ended things with a simple “Sorry,” but when he’d finally tried to say something, maybe an apology...? Well, they’d already been talking and shopping for almost ten minutes and Tessa had just brushed it off, saying she wouldn’t be happily married if things hadn’t ended the way they had, four years earlier. Riley had turned her off of meeting men in bars, and she never would have signed up for the astronomy class where she’d met her husband otherwise. The whole conversation had left Riley smiling.

“Looks like you got enough,” Kelly said, his voice drawing Riley’s attention back from the surprisingly pleasant meeting. Riley’d had much worse run-ins with exes, after all. “So I ask again. Planning to feed an army? Or just you and your
close friend
Peter?”

Kelly sounded just as sour as he looked, though the guy did take a few of the bags from Riley’s hold. Riley frowned, unsure whether the frown was directed at that odd tone to Kelly’s voice, or at the strange sneer when Kelly had mentioned Riley’s uncle. “Huh?”

Kelly shrugged and opened the front door of the house, and Riley laughed when Goober barked and raced up the stairs. “I was just wondering. It seems like an awful lot of groceries for just you.”

Riley snorted. Quietly, but still. It seemed like he and Kelly had traded emotions, somehow. “Dude. Seriously? There’s me. There’s you. And there’s the mutt, who seems to eat his fucking weight in dog food twice a day. So I’d say we’re okay for a few days, but not much longer.”

“Uh-huh. And none of this is for Peter. Doesn’t he ever come by?”

Riley stopped three steps up the stairs and looked back over his shoulder at Kelly. “I guess that’s up to you, man. You’re the one who’s gonna be staying in his... you know what? Never mind. I thought we needed some fucking groceries, but I wouldn’t have bothered if I knew it would end up with us talking about your sex life. Just fucking forget it, okay? You and the mutt can starve for all I care.” He didn’t mean it. Riley even knew he didn’t mean it. But he really didn’t want to think about Kelly being with Peter. It still bothered him on that same weird and unexplainable level. “And fuck if I want to see it while you do, so I’m gonna get this shit put away and then I’m going out. You can sit around and fucking snarl at yourself all day long, if that’s what floats your fucking boat.”

Riley stalked up the stairs, struggling a little with the awkward dimensions of the bags, then growled softly when Goober got in the way of opening the door. Finally he managed it, though, and the fact that the apartment door wasn’t locked could only mean that Kelly had seen Riley return with the shopping and had deliberately gone downstairs to help with the fetch-and-carrying.
So whatever crawled up his ass and died there only started up in the last couple minutes, but fuck if I know what it was. Shit.

Riley made it to the kitchen and started pulling vegetables and fruit from the sacks of perishable items, determined to ignore Kelly even though he could hear the guy right behind him. It had already been a shit day, regardless of the unexpected meeting at the grocery store. Riley wasn’t interested in losing the vestiges of his decent mood. Of course, the idea that Kelly was mad at him wasn’t helping. Finally, Riley sighed, a bag of apples halfway to the counter.

“Okay. Dude. Want to tell me what your problem is, or am I supposed to guess?” Something to do with Peter, it seemed like, but that didn’t make any sense, unless Kelly was jealous for some reason and thought Riley was going to get all fucking mixed up with whatever Kelly had going on with Riley’s uncle. It was possible, Riley realized, looking at the sour expression on Kelly’s face. Riley had pretty much said he and Peter were close. Maybe Kelly misunderstood what that meant. But if so, why had it taken five fucking days for Kelly to get all shitty about it? So, no. It still didn’t make sense.

Something of Riley’s confusion must have shown on his face because the next thing Riley knew, Kelly set down the bags he’d still been holding and leaned against the counter, arms crossed tightly enough to show lithe, defined muscles. Kelly’s head cocked just a bit, examining Riley as though Riley was something Kelly didn’t recognize.

“I talked to my stepdad a little while ago,” Kelly said, like that was supposed to shed some fucking light. “He said some things. And I’ve been staying here for close to a week and you’ve been lying to me the whole time, and I don’t understand why.”

Riley blinked and set the apples down, then assumed a position almost exactly like Kelly’s. “Dude. Seriously? What the fuck...”

“God, Riley! Peter Jamison! What else?” Kelly didn’t move, but he looked even angrier all of a sudden. “You let me think you were his boy toy, or at least involved with him in some way, even though you don’t come off as gay -- more like bi, if anything -- and believe me when I say that confused the hell out of me if you were sleeping with Peter! But you’re his nephew! And unless there’s some really freaky crap going on with your family, that pretty much means you’re not having sex with him!”

“Ah, shit.” Riley frowned. “Dude. That’s such a small fucking lie.
That’s
why you’re acting like I kicked your fucking... well, not dog, ‘cause I like Goober, but that’s it? Jesus fuck.” It was ridiculous. “I didn’t want to come off like a spoiled fucking brat, okay? And anyway, why the fuck would Peter be moving you in if he already had a boy toy? Not that I’m a boy toy. I’m totally fucking straight, man.”

Okay, I probably shouldn’t have said that part about Kelly being Peter’s new fuck out loud. Fuck.
Because Kelly looked stunned and sort of baffled. That passed pretty quickly, though. More anger washed over Kelly’s face and Kelly stopped leaning. Instead, the guy stood straight, nearly vibrating. Riley could tell that much even without knowing Kelly any better.

“You think I. God. That’s just.” Kelly glared. “I can’t even express how messed up that is. I’m nobody’s whore, you... God. You...”

“Fucker?” Riley offered, hoping to defuse the situation with humor. Kelly didn’t seem ready to laugh, though.

“Yes! You
fucker
!” Then Kelly stopped, one arm leaving its spot across his chest to rise, his hand covering his mouth, eyes wide as though he’d never said anything like that before. It was fucking hilarious, except...

Riley couldn’t remember a single instance in the entire past five days when Kelly had said anything stronger than hell, and even that was rare. Kelly hadn’t said
fuck
even once while concussed after the storm, or in the time since. That the guy was saying it now was serious, apparently.

“Shit.”

***

That one word was enough to cut through Kelly’s shock at what had come out of his own mouth. He still couldn’t believe he’d said it, and the fact that Riley had suggested it in the first place only made things worse. Anger, frustration, and embarrassment -- all of them were suddenly intensified. The frustration was with Riley for not understanding why that lie was a big deal. The embarrassment, on the other hand, came from having actually shouted a word Kelly had said exactly once in his life before. He’d been thirteen and thinking he was so mature. Unfortunately, Grandfather hadn’t shared that opinion, and the resulting four hours of hard training, accompanied by an ever-changing lecture on why it was wrong for anyone, but especially a child, to speak that way? That had firmly broken Kelly of ever developing the cussing habit.

Crap and hell and damn were bad enough, but they didn’t cross his grandfather’s line once Kelly had turned sixteen. Even so, Kelly had spent so much of his time with the old man and others just like him that using the F-word definitely made Kelly uncomfortable.

And Riley’s the one who made me say it! God, he flings it around enough that I didn’t even think!

That was the part that had Kelly angry. Furious, really. And fury was much easier to accept than the frustration and embarrassment.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, glaring for all he was worth as he uncovered his mouth. “What have I ever done to make you think I’m the kind of guy who would do that? Have sex with some guy I’ve never even met because... why? And he’s your uncle! Why would you even lie about something that stupid? Like I care who you’re related to! Except I do, because you thought I was
sleeping with him
! And that’s apparently no big deal!”

Riley’s eyes widened and Kelly glared harder, hotter. Then Riley’s lips compressed, becoming a thin, tight line, and just a second later Kelly noticed that Riley’s chest and stomach were jerking, sort of, like Riley was trying not to vomit or something. The
or something
turned out to be
laugh
, because Riley for damned sure lost whatever battle he’d been waging and the guy made a muffled-sounding chuckle. It only made Kelly angrier.

“It’s not funny, damn it! You think I’m a slut!”

Riley’s lips relaxed and a full laugh left him. “Dude! It’s totally funny! Seriously, it is. Fuck, I’m straight and you thought the same shit about me, but you don’t see me getting all bent out of fucking shape, right? Besides, I thought all you gay guys liked to mix it up and have lots of sex when you’re single.” Riley laughed more, and Kelly thought he might finally understand what it meant when people said they were mad enough to see red.

It didn’t help that Riley had a point. Kelly knew he’d made the same assumption about Riley and Peter. But Kelly hadn’t lied or said anything to give Riley that impression, and that was the difference.

“It’s not the same,” Kelly hissed, his hands falling to his sides, fingers clenching tightly. “Hell, you’d probably think it was hilarious if someone called you a slut. You laugh at everything else!” God, it wasn’t fair. Riley didn’t seem to take anything seriously. Nothing pissed him off or made him moody -- except whatever had been bothering him before, but that had passed, obviously. Riley was acting like Kelly didn’t have any reason to be less than happy right then. The guy’s smile said that much, plain as day, and screw it. Kelly was going to wipe that annoying grin right off of Riley’s face.

“Fine! Laugh at this, jackhole,” Kelly snapped, invading Riley’s space and grabbing the man’s face in both hands. He didn’t have a plan beyond proving to Riley that there really was something to be upset about, and the last thing Kelly knew was why his own warped mind decided on the method it chose. Unfortunately, he was already moving, and by the time he realized what he doing, it was too late to stop. “Laugh all you want,” Kelly ordered, even as he dragged Riley’s mouth down to his and roughly, thoroughly kissed the man. The
straight
man.

***

What the fuck?
Riley tried to say it out loud, but there was a tongue in his mouth. He hadn’t even seen Kelly’s hands rise, which probably meant the guy was a fucking amazing martial artist, or at least crazy-fast, and yet there it was. All of a sudden, Kelly’s tongue was in Riley’s mouth.

The initial shock wore off quickly, and Riley knew he could have pulled away, but for some reason, the kiss wasn’t anything like as disturbing as Riley thought it should have been. It was wet, yeah. And Kelly’s tongue was hot. Kelly was hot. Shit, even Kelly’s hands felt like they’d just come out of a fucking furnace where they were clamped to Riley’s face.

Kelly’s hair was like silk between Riley’s fingers and he didn’t know when he’d tangled them there, but he had. The long strands felt just like hair, too. Nothing about it that screamed
male
to Riley. Fuck, not even the scent of Kelly’s spicy, citrusy cologne seemed out of place. It was just lips and hands and tongues for a good few seconds.

Then Riley vaguely registered a bark and something hit his leg. The disruption was enough to end the kiss, leaving Riley staring wide-eyed at Kelly, who looked equally stunned.
Well, fuck it. At least he’s not all pissed off anymore. That’s a plus.

“Uh. Dude,” Riley said before stopping. What was the right fucking etiquette for addressing a gay guy who’d just kissed a straight guy hard? Fuck if Riley knew. He should be angry -- that was obvious -- but he wasn’t. If anything, Riley was... he didn’t know what, but angry wasn’t on the list. Surprised, yeah. Kind of flattered and sort of spun. A little bit weirded out at
being
flattered and spun.

And confused. Riley couldn’t deny that he felt sort of confused, but he could figure that part out later. Right then, he needed to find something to say that wouldn’t make things worse by turning speechless-Kelly back into shouting-and-angry-Kelly. Riley hadn’t liked that mood at all. Of course, it might be better to pretend nothing had fucking happened. For the moment, at least.

“Uh. We should get the rest of this shit put away,” Riley said. “There’s ice cream in one of the bags and it’ll be a fucking mess if it sits around much longer.” Jesus. He doubted he could have come up with a lamer comment if he’d tried.

Riley watched Kelly’s stare drop from his eyes and focus lower -- probably on his lips, Riley figured -- but Kelly nodded, just a tiny little dip of his head. “I. Yeah. We should do that. Um, it might be easier if you let go of my hair first.”

Oh, Jesus, that was funny. It really, really was. It tweaked Riley’s sense of humor, anyway. “If you let go of my ears, I’ll let go of your hair, man. Wouldn’t want you to twist one of them off by accident or anything. I kind of like having a matched set.”