Put a Ring on It (4 page)

Brett met him at the apartment door in sweats and a washed-to-translucence T-shirt. If the wouldn’t-be-caught-dead-in-it ensemble wasn’t a clue, the fact that the corners of his eyes were crusted with sleep crud let Kieran know that at least some of Brett’s mood was from having been jolted out of sleep.

“Don’t think I’m letting you crash on the couch if you fucked things up with Theo. You can go home to mommy.”

“I didn’t fuck things up with Theo. Is anyone else home?” Kieran eyed the assortment of footwear next to the door.

“No, but Sydney and Vanessa aren’t going to be any more sympathetic. I told them how you stole him from me.”

“I didn’t steal him. You were too chickenshit to say anything. Not my fault he thought I was the one hitting on him.”

He should have just kept walking until he figured shit out. But talking to Brett, someone who actually understood what it was like to grow up with a family that wanted a programmable robot instead of a child, was a hard habit to break. He added his wet boots to the pile and followed Brett past the kitchen to the living room, which was twice the size of the shit hole he and Brett had been living in before it burned down.

“Christ, I’m just kidding. So if you didn’t fuck things up with Theo, what brings you?” Brett perched, butt on the arm of the sofa, sock-covered feet on the cushion. “And don’t try to make like you’d be digging through your shabby old Brooklyn life if something wasn’t going on in your fabulous one across the river.”

Kieran dropped onto the sofa, shoving his hands into his stupid, prickly,
wet
hair. “It’s just too much, you know?”

“Right. It must be such a drag to have a rich, adorable boyfriend who can get you into any place in Manhattan. Or maybe it’s the fact that you
have
a boyfriend while some of us are thinking of marrying our right hands. Oh. My. God. You are an utter fucking asshole.” Brett kicked Kieran in the arm, shoving him sideways on the couch. “Motherfucker.” Brett continued the abuse, following up with a throw pillow, beating Kieran over the head. Kieran put a stop to the assault by grabbing the edge of the cushion and flinging it away.

Brett latched onto Kieran’s wrist on the recoil and examined the ring. “I hate you. I really, really hate you.”

Kieran wished he could lie to himself, say he’d forgotten the ring was there. But he’d looked at it a hundred and seventeen times since, spent a good portion of the train ride staring at it, a tamed spark of refracted light gleaming from inside the brushed-to-matte dullness of the metal. It wasn’t gaudy or ornate, didn’t look anything like a girl’s engagement ring. If it weren’t on that particular finger on his left hand, it could just have been a classy-looking ring.

He’d looked at it again when he called Brett from the sidewalk outside Brett’s apartment, had sure as fuck known Brett would see it, and still Kieran left it on. So here they were. Wasn’t talking to Brett exactly why Kieran had hauled ass out to Brooklyn in the first place?

Brett threw Kieran’s hand back at him. “So did you just come by to rub my face in it?”

“No.”

“Why aren’t you and Theo out celebrating? Oh shit. You said yes, right? Don’t even tell me you turned him down. I mean, you’re wearing the ring. Wait, did you already do it? And you didn’t invite me?”

Invite Brett. To his… to his and Theo’s wedding. Oh. God.

That was what accepting Theo’s ring meant, though.

Not just the craziness of a Times Square proposal but an actual ceremony. Lots of other people. Planning. Planning to say personal stuff in front of other people. In front of his family—shit, what about Theo’s family?

Kieran’s throat burned with bile, and he huddled on the couch, burying his head between his knees. “He just asked me today.”

“So why are you acting like someone died, you lucky bastard?”

Kieran folded deeper, wrapping his fingers around his ankles. Mouth a few inches from the floor, he mumbled, “Why can’t—couldn’t—things just go on like they were?”

Brett smacked Kieran in the back of the head, but it was much lighter than the earlier shots he’d taken. “Why won’t they? Except that you’ll be Mr. Theo’s husband. God, Kier. Think of that kind of security. Hey, do you think there will be a prenup?”

Kieran raised his head enough to glare at Brett. “He just proposed and you think we’re going to split up?”

“Don’t you? I mean, if you were so sure about him, why are you over here bitching about it instead of sipping Cristal in a hot tub.”

“I don’t know.” Kieran went back to hunching over his socks. “I liked how things were going—are going. Now there’s this big deadline or something.”

“Well, I know neither of you is knocked up. Shit, does he want kids?”

“No.” At least Kieran thought Theo didn’t. He’d never mentioned it. Of course, Theo had never mentioned marriage until two and a half hours ago.

“Is he dying?”

The question hit like a shock, radiating into his joints. He folded tighter. “No.”

“Hm. Maybe his mom is and he wants her to see him married off?”

“What the fuck?” That made Kieran straighten. Why had he thought talking to Brett was a good idea? He made such a big deal out of everything.

“You’re the one who said something about a deadline. I’m just trying to figure it out. Have you even met his mom?”

“No. He’s met mine. Came for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur last fall.” Theo had insisted, and Kieran had been almost relieved, because if he had to go, at least he had someone to suffer with him. Theo must have studied up, because he knew what to say and how to act and had charmed even the aunts who hated Dad. “But all I know is that his family lives in St. Louis and they’re Greek.”

“What about friends?”

“There’s some guys he’s known since college, and they go out to dinner sometimes.”

“And you’re not invited?”

“I was. I just didn’t want to go. And what the fuck does any of this have to do with him proposing?”

“Because that’s what getting married is, dumbass. All your friends and relatives get to come and complain about the food and the music and start a pool on how long you’re going to be together. Straights have been screwing it up for years. Now it’s our turn.”

Panic crushed the air from Kieran’s lungs. “I can’t do this.” He wasn’t shy, but no way was his life some show for people to watch and take notes on.

“So why did you say yes?”

“Because he asked me in front of other people, and I couldn’t hurt him like that. It’s not that I don’t want to be with him.”

“You just don’t want to do anything to limit your options? God, you suck. I have no idea why a guy like Theo is so into you, but he obviously is.”

Brett was right. Kieran’s self-esteem was just fine, thanks, but he knew he wasn’t great at the personal relationship part of things. Take away all the stuff that happened today—the parts that made Kieran want to breathe into a paper bag—and it was just Theo. And being with Theo was good.

Kieran rubbed his hands over his thighs, and light flashed in the diamond on his finger. He didn’t really mind the ring so much. It could just be a classy ring, and they could just be them.

“I know,” he admitted.

“Really, you know? That’s what you’ve got? Because you curled in a fetal ball on my couch really looks like you’ve got your shit together.”

“I know I suck, and I know I should think I’m lucky he wants to be with me.”

Brett sighed like he was the one who was in shit up to his eyeballs. “You know you should be saying this shit to him instead of to me.”

Kieran nodded. He hadn’t come here to figure things out, he’d come here to put things off. He needed to talk to Theo. Ask the
What the fuck were you thinking?
that had been in his head since Theo came toward him in the flash mob.

Brett was back on his perch on the sofa arm. He wiggled his toes under Kieran’s leg. “Then don’t take this the wrong way. Go the fuck home to your fiancé.”

His old roommate didn’t need to add the
While you still have one
that echoed in Kieran’s head.

THEO BLASTED
the shower and steamed up the bathroom. Kieran would be cold when he got back, and he loved joining Theo in the shower. The nights when Theo worked, getting home after two, the shower was how they kept in touch. Theo would come home and start the shower, then Kieran would slip in and join him. They’d have sex and talk and climb into bed so Kieran could grab a few more hours sleep before he went to work.

But thirty minutes under the rain showerhead and massaging nozzle from the detachable wand couldn’t loosen the tightness in his chest and back. The built-into-the-shower-wall TV that streamed the local news and traffic showed there was nothing holding up any downtown trains. Theo uncapped Kieran’s shower gel and inhaled. Close, but not really him. He’d need Kieran’s shampoo and shaving lotion and aftershave and most importantly
him
to get it right.

He swung the levers up to turn off the water, shut down the TV, and stuck his head out to listen. The condo was silent. A sudden fear that Kieran had come and gone had Theo streaking for the bedroom, making sure Kieran’s clothes were still there. Everything was just the way he’d left it this morning, Kieran’s rejected polo shirt—
this one is still itchy
—lying on his side of the bed. Theo grabbed it and went to the laundry closet to toss it in the washer with a double dose of fabric softener, along with some of the sheets from two nights ago. From sex two nights ago.

Theo shut the washer lid and straightened his spine. Kieran would be back. He just needed time to think. Theo knew he had a tendency to get caught up in the show, and he’d just wanted Kieran to know how much Theo wanted this to be perfect. Kieran had really seemed to love
Susan
, but Theo guessed he’d gone a little overboard with having the whole cast there. Kieran wasn’t shy, just quiet.

Theo tracked his wet steps back to finish drying off, then mopped up his tracks before dressing. Kieran still wasn’t back by the time Theo had moved the wash into the dryer along with two more softening sheets. Theo couldn’t take the empty condo another minute, so he walked the block down to the coffee shop where he’d met Kieran thirteen months ago.

Kieran’s ex-roommate wasn’t working, but the barista recognized him, nodded, and asked if he wanted the usual. Theo nodded and stared back through the glass door. When had the sun set? It had been such a cloudy afternoon it was hard to notice. The cafe was crammed with Valentine decorations urging patrons to heat up their lovers with roasted beans or gift cards or mugs.

If Theo’s life really was a romantic comedy, Kieran would find him here. He’d be the one to hand over Theo’s skim latte, and the heart drawn in the foam would be from Kieran, not his wannabe-Cyrano roommate.

But no matter how hard Theo tried to pretty things up, his latte was just a skinny latte, and Kieran wasn’t here. Theo wasn’t wrong about him. Couldn’t be wrong about something like this. Kieran was the one, in the way that made Theo’s skin tingle, made every love song make sense, made it worth waiting for Kieran to figure it out. He stuffed a nice tip in the jar as he collected his latte and headed back up the block to the condo.

Kieran was there, just taking off his boots, and the fact that Theo’s ring was still on his finger loosened all the tightness left in Theo’s chest.

“Did you eat?” Theo put his latte on the counter and went right for the fridge. Without waiting for an answer, Theo pulled out the turkey bacon and started to fry some for a BLT, Kieran’s favorite.

Kieran slid onto a stool facing Theo across the island counter and grabbed his wrist before he could transfer another strip to the pan.

“I know better than to ask you to sit down, but could you stand still and talk to me?”

Theo glanced again at the reassuring wink of the ring on Kieran’s hand and nodded. “I’m right here.”

“Turn off the gas.”

After Theo complied, Kieran went on, “Tell me what happened today.”

Theo smiled, turning his wrist in Kieran’s grip so they could clasp hands. “I asked you to marry me.”

Kieran squeezed Theo’s hand and then let go, sliding free. “That was kind of hard to miss.”

“You said yes.”

“Theo.” Kieran’s fingers went to the ring, twisted it lightly. “What else could I say?”

Theo’s chest went tight again, everything solid rock between his ribs and spine. Kieran wasn’t taking it off. He wasn’t. “What does that mean?”

“It means you asked me onstage, in front of the whole fucking world. I didn’t have a choice.”

Theo turned away to put the bacon back in the fridge, then stared down at the two slices that had just started to give off a familiar smell as they melted and reformed in the pan. The turkey hadn’t had a choice. But Theo hadn’t forced Kieran into anything. “Of course you had a choice. ‘Will you marry me’ is a yes or no question.”

“No.”

Theo gripped the counter.

“‘Will you marry me’ is a discussion,” Kieran went on.

Might as well cut right to the chase. “So you don’t want to marry me.”

“I want to know why you didn’t talk to me before you asked me.”

The warmth of anger in Theo’s stomach felt so much better than the tight fear. “We didn’t discuss it before I asked you to move in. I asked, you were here with a box the next day.”

“My apartment building burned down.” Kieran pushed away from the counter. Away from Theo.

“Where are you going?” So much for Dane’s idea of talking. Kieran was leaving.

“I was going to change.” Kieran stopped in the bedroom doorway and turned to face Theo. His khakis were lined with salt, dried stains and splashes up to his knees. He didn’t move. And the air got really still between them. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Theo didn’t stop to think. He wasn’t angry or scared. Right then he knew what was right. He crossed the room in an instant and wrapped his arms around Kieran’s waist. “No. I don’t want you to go.”

Kieran’s lips quirked. Sometimes that was as much smile as he ever had. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere.” His hands came up to frame Theo’s face.