Open Seating (23 page)

If a fortune-teller had predicted a month ago that Seth would be having sex with a Grindr user, he’d have laughed out loud. Conversely, Seth had surprised himself and Bryce by taking a leap into uncharted waters. He’d made a monumental decision by coming on this cruise. He could have locked himself in his room and spent the rest of the year crying and overeating. Instead, he chose life and opened his mind to the many possibilities awaiting him. He’d proven he was resilient at the worst of times. Didn’t it stand to reason that he’d be able to adapt to a new man in his life, one who had absolutely nothing in common with Mark other than a gym membership?

After dinner, Bryce suggested they walk off some calories on the upper deck.

“Are you up for it?” Bryce asked, looking hopeful. “We can hold hands and be stupidly romantic.”

Seth gaped. “Are you drunk?”

Bryce laughed. “Not at all. Why would you even ask that?”

“You used the word
romance
in a sentence without sneering.”

“What a shocker, huh?”

“Stop making jokes about it, Bryce.”

“I’m not joking, babe.”

“You’ll have to be more convincing than that,” Seth said seriously.

“I’ll explain while we’re walking.”

“I’m not sure I can keep up with you,” Seth said. His cheeks were hot again, and he ducked his head in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” Bryce said, lifting Seth’s chin with his finger. “You’re sore, aren’t you?”

“A bit, but I’m sure I’ll be as good as new tomorrow.”

“Would you rather go back to the cabin?”

“Are you kidding? I would rather suffer than pass up a chance to hear your take on romance.”

“We can sit under the stars instead of walking,” Bryce suggested. “I don’t want you to have any regrets about this afternoon.”

“I don’t regret anything,” Seth said sincerely. “Just answer one thing. Is this tenderness normal?”

“Yeah.” Bryce nodded. “We were going at it pretty hard.”

Seth reached for Bryce’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go upstairs.”

They held hands all the way up to the Lido Deck. It was gusty when they stepped through the sliding doors, but the stars were out and they decided to brave the elements until it got too cold. Snagging a couple of clean towels from the bin close to the pool, Bryce led Seth up a flight of stairs to another more private level. This was where the hard-core sunbathers roasted themselves on sunny days. At the moment it was empty.

They snuggled up on one chaise lounge, squeezing themselves in with Bryce taking up first position. Seth slotted in between his legs, facing the stars, and rested his head against Bryce’s chest. The combination of body heat and terry cloth worked to keep them warm enough to enjoy the scenery.

“Is it my imagination, or are the stars bigger and brighter out here?” Seth asked.

“Haven’t you ever been camping?”

“Do I look like the type?”

“No,” Bryce said. “But you’ve managed to ambush me these last few days so I’m not assuming anything.”

Stunned, Seth asked, “How have I ambushed you?”

“When we started this trip, I figured I’d be playing nanny or worse—psychologist. Turns out you’re more than capable of surviving without my help.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Bryce. Having you to bitch at took my mind off Mark.”

Bryce chuckled, and Seth’s head bounced along with his heaving chest. “We had some good icebreakers, didn’t we?”

“Let’s try to keep those private,” Seth said. “I’ll give you all the credit you deserve, but one incident in particular goes into the Do Not Discuss file.”

“You’re making too much out of that, babe. I would have done it for any of my friends.”

“Perhaps, but the point is you did it for me. You have no idea how that elevated you in my eyes.”

“And the night you came down to pay my cab, then put me to bed without so much as a reprimand stands out in my mind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for being so forgiving when you could have just as easily ripped me a new asshole.”

“You’d already done your good deed for me at that point, and I couldn’t, in good conscience, act like a twat.”

“So let’s call it a wash.”

“Your act of kindness trumps mine by a mile.”

“Shush,” Bryce said gently. “We should go camping someday. Take away the lights and sounds of the city, and it’ll look just like this. There’s a place in Michigan that I’ve gone to over the years. I think you’ll like it.”

Seth’s throat clogged with an onslaught of emotion he couldn’t hold back. He was afraid to open his mouth in case he sounded desperate, but he was touched beyond measure by the simple suggestion.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “I’d like that,” he said, managing to sound somewhat normal.

Thankfully, Bryce only kissed him on the head and held him tighter. If he noticed Seth was on the brink of tears, he didn’t mention it.

“You asked me the other day who hurt me and why I was so jaded,” Bryce reminded him. “I’d like to tell you if you’re in the mood to listen.”

“I’m always up for a good story. It’s my thing.”

“Even when it’s nonfiction?”

“Talk to me, Bryce.”

In a quiet voice that only stumbled as he recounted the cheating incident in his apartment, Bryce told Seth about his early years, from the time he came out to his parents to the sordid mess with Owen. Seth didn’t interrupt or offer advice, because this was history, a portion of Bryce’s life that had molded him into the man he was today. There was nothing Seth could say to undo the pain of broken trust. All he could do was offer a listening ear.

When the confession ended, Bryce kissed him on the top of his head and whispered, “Do you think I’m pathetic?”

“I hope Owen lived to regret the day he hurt you, but you’d be missing out on so much if you continue to doubt every man you date. We’re not all assholes, Bryce.”

“I’m beginning to realize that, but I want to clarify my position.”

“Okay,” Seth said warily.

“After Owen, I tried a few more times. To date, that is. I could never get past the bullshit everyone was feeding me. In those days, gay marriage was only a dream, and most of the men in my circle wanted one thing. After a while I stopped hoping and turned into the same sort of guy.”

“A fucking machine.”

“More or less.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Give me a chance?”

Seth turned to look into Bryce’s eyes. “If this is your way of asking me if I’d consider you as more than a friend, you should come right out and say it. I don’t want any misunderstandings, Bryce. I’m already halfway in love with you.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” Seth said, eyes brimming. “I know you’re thinking I’m reacting to the good sex, and I won’t lie and say that’s not a huge part of it, but dammit, Bryce. I like you. A lot.”

“I like you too.”

“This is the worst dialogue ever,” Seth bemoaned. “We sound like fourteen-year-olds.”

“They’d tear down my Grindr profile if they heard me now.”

“Don’t even mention that app,” Seth said flatly.

“I take it you’re not a fan?”

“They have single-handedly destroyed the meaning of romance. That and Facebook.”

Bryce smiled. “So….”

“What?”

“Do we have a deal?”

“I want you to come right out and say it.”

“Let’s change the rules of engagement, babe. We’re not just roommates or fuck buddies.”

“What are we, then?”

“Friends working our way toward more.”

“Lovers?”

“Yeah.”

“That works for me,” Seth said. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Take down your Grindr profile.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s a deal breaker.”

“Okay…,” Bryce said slowly. “Exclusive?”

“You bet your ass.”

BRYCE GROANED
when he saw the long line of tourists and students waiting to get into Trinity College in Dublin to see the famous Book of Kells.

“Christ, look at those lines.”

Sighing, Seth said, “I told you it would be a long wait.”

“Isn’t there any way you can view this online?”

Seth spun around and glared.

“Just kidding,” Bryce said, flashing a gotcha smile.

“Asshole,” Seth murmured as he turned back toward the entrance.

Bryce wrapped an arm around Seth’s chest from behind and drew him close. Whispering in his ear, he said, “I’m hoping you’ll be as patient waiting in line to see the Blackhawks.”

Seth let out another long sigh. “It’s only fair.”

“Don’t you like hockey?”

“About as much as you like standing in line.”

“Have you ever been to a game?” Bryce persisted.

“Mark and I weren’t into sports.”

“What did you do for entertainment?”

“Movies for the most part, and once a year we’d fly to New York to see a couple of plays.”

“No sports at all?” Bryce was astounded that anyone who lived in and around the Chicago area wasn’t into competitive sports.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m ruling it out,” Seth said. “I’m open to the idea of learning and experiencing anything that interests you. That’s what dating is all about, isn’t it?”

“It’s been so long since I dated, I’ve forgotten what’s involved,” Bryce admitted.

“I’m no authority either, but I write romances for a living and I’ve done research on the subject. So far we’re doing everything ass-backward.”

“What do you mean?” Bryce asked, amused.

“We had sex before we got to know each other.”

“Come on, babe. That’s normal behavior in this day and age,” Bryce said.

“Not for me.”

“Are you sorry we didn’t wait?”

“No,” Seth said softly. “Not in the least. I just want to make sure we’re not forgetting all the other important stuff.”

“It’s time you started thinking outside the box,” Bryce said. “Write a contemporary romance for a change and spin it around us.”

Seth snorted. “No one would believe our story.”

“Speaking of writing,” Bryce said. “You haven’t opened your laptop in days.”

“I know, it’s shocking.”

“Have you even checked your e-mail?” Bryce asked.

“Nope.”

“Aren’t you worried you might be missing something important?”

“All my people know I’m on a cruise and Internet is either spotty or expensive. I’ll check in eventually.”

“Your peeps, huh? Do you have many?”

“A handful. Why?”

“You make it sound like you have an army of minions.”

“Hardly,” Seth remarked. “I have a publicist, an editor, my publisher, and a few cover artists I communicate with regularly. I also have readers who like to know what I’ve got in the works.”

“On Facebook?”

“No, I have a blog.”

“How often do you update?” Bryce asked.

“Not often enough.”

All conversation ceased as they arrived at the entrance to Trinity College’s Old Library building, a formidable structure erected in the eighteenth century. Inside was housed the famous Book of Kells, a richly decorated ninth-century copy of the four gospels in the life of Jesus. Bryce perked up as he got a glance at the intricate woodwork surrounding the doorway. Seth could salivate all he wanted over the literary masterpieces—purportedly over two hundred thousand books were shelved in the ancient Long Room—while Bryce soaked up the handmade moldings, windows, and doors created by the best artisans of that time.

First stop was a visit to the requisite gift shop, a marketing strategy one could hardly avoid. You couldn’t bypass it to get to the exhibits, so Bryce waited patiently as Seth hemmed and hawed over which refrigerator magnet to buy and how many posters of the exhibit would be too many. After he finally made his choices and paid, Bryce took his bag.

Seth looked surprised. “I can carry my shopping bag.”

“Why do it when I’m offering?”

“Thank you,” Seth said. “I can’t remember the last time anyone carried a bag for me.”

“What about Mark?”

“We always carried our own stuff.”

Bryce shrugged. “There’s something about you that brings out the gentleman in me, so don’t give me a hard time.”

Seth’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Are you kidding? You get another gold star.”

“Yeah? How many have I racked up?”

“Quite a few.”

“Be sure and let me know when I get to the freebie.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you like Starbucks? After
x
amount of drinks, you get a free one.”

“Oh, I see. You think you’ll get some fabulous prize when you’ve reached your star quota?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“Absolutely,” Seth said, leaning in so no one would overhear. “You’re a star away from a foot rub.”

“What if I want something else rubbed?”

Seth lifted an eyebrow. “Winner gets to choose.”

Bryce cracked a smile. “Goody.”

“Do you have a scenario in mind?”

“I don’t,” Bryce said, “but I’ll think of something.”

“And now that you’ve given me a chub with all this dirty talk, I won’t be able to concentrate on the exhibit,” Seth scolded. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”

“Really? Who made us late this morning because he wanted one more kiss, which led to one more…?”

Seth’s cheeks flamed an adorable pink. “Shush,” he hissed.

“Just saying.”

They separated at the start of the exhibit so each one could linger wherever they wanted and not feel like they were holding the other back. Bryce left Seth staring at the glass-enclosed pages of the manuscript. He took a cursory look to say he’d actually seen parts of the Book of Kells, and then made his way to the Long Room.

According to the hand pamphlets, the original room had a flat plaster ceiling with floor-to-ceiling shelves. By the 1850s the shelves were completely filled, and the barrel-vaulted ceiling and upper gallery bookcases were constructed to house every book published in Britain and Ireland at that time.

Bryce admired the leather-bound tomes from afar, with titles and author names printed in gold leaf. He studied the fourteen marble busts lining the room, noting the names of writers and philosophers who’d influenced the western world, and he was astonished they were all male. Not one female was represented, which bothered him for some reason.