Something Like Winter (38 page)

“
Keep stirring,” he
said.

“
I’m not really hungry,”
Tim tried.

“
But I am, and you promised
me dinner.”

“
I suppose I did.” Tim
stirred, but kept his eyes on Ben. “You should come by more often,
maybe in the morning. I miss those burnt waffles you used to
make.”

“
They were pancakes,” Ben
protested, “and I thought you didn’t remember my food being
bad!”

Tim nodded at the pot.
“It’s starting to come back to me.”

Ben laughed and shook his
head, pushing Tim aside so he could resume cooking, tasting and
adjusting the sauce, and testing the noodles. When he was satisfied
he drained the water. “Grab some plates.”

“
Nah, just throw the pasta
in the sauce and we’ll eat it here. That’s what I do sometimes with
mac and cheese. Eat it straight out of the pot right here at the
stove.”

Ben stared at him. “That’s
the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“
You feel sorry for
me?”

“
Yes.”

“
Good. Misery loves
company. Grab a couple forks from that drawer and join
me.”

As it turned out, the food
wasn’t much better than the instant food Tim occasionally wolfed
down, but the process had been fun. They attacked the pot,
occasionally sword fighting with their forks, and snacking away
until most of it was gone.

“
I wish it could be like
this every day,” Tim said.

Ben toyed with a few
leftover noodles in the pot. “This used to be my dream.”

“
And I ruined it. Do you
ever regret it?”

“
What?”

“
The time we had
together.”

Ben snorted. “Are you
kidding? Never. Not once.”

Tim straightened up.
“Really? I figured you hated me for what I did.”

“
I never hated you. I just
hurt. When we were together—” Ben exhaled. “Don’t let it go to your
head, but even when it was bad, it was good.”

Tim leaned forward, ready
for a kiss, but Ben returned his attention to the stray noodles in
the pot. So much for Lady and the Tramp. Maybe dessert would work
better than pasta. Tim went to the freezer. “I know I have some ice
cream in here somewhere.”

“
I really need to get back
to Jace’s.”

“
Aw, you can’t leave. You
haven’t even done the dishes yet!” Tim winced from Ben’s glare.
“Only kidding. Geez! There is a pool here, you know. We could go
for a swim, have a couple of beers. You can even crash
here.”

Ben scoffed. “I don’t think
so!”

“
Your virtue will remain
unchallenged, Princess, you have my word.” Not true. “There are two
guest rooms. Take your pick. I’ll even sleep in the car.” Also not
true!

But Ben was adamant. Short
of pouncing on him and taking him on the kitchen floor, Tim’s only
option was to give in and drive Ben back to Jace’s. He pulled up to
the apartment, wondering if he should walk Ben to the door, but of
course being close to the lair of the enemy probably wouldn’t help
his chances.

“
Thanks for the last couple
of days,” Tim said. “I know I went a little overboard, but it’s
been a long time since I’ve had someone like you
around.”

Ben shifted in his seat. “I
liked it too, but I’m also looking forward to Jace coming home
tomorrow.”

“
Hint taken.” Unwillingly.
What if Jace being back in town put an end to their little reunion?
“I’m serious about meeting him. The man behind the legend and all
that.”

“
Yeah?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Okay.”

Where a goodbye kiss should
have been was a nervous chuckle. Then Ben was out of the car,
released back into the world. If you love somebody, set them
free…

Chapter
Twenty-three

Waiting should always be
avoided. Good or bad, confronting the future is better than
torturous anticipation or crippling dread. Tim called Ben early the
next morning with the intent of talking him into cutting class.
There was no answer. He tried again closer to lunch. Still no
answer. With Jace due back in the evening, Tim was forced to wait
and wonder.

He didn’t remember how long
Jace and Ben had been together. Perhaps he had tuned out that
information. Regardless if their relationship had lasted years,
months, or even just a few weeks, they would most likely celebrate
their reunion in the bedroom.

The thought alone made Tim
seethe with jealousy. He tried not to think about it, giving his
full attention first to his classes and now to painting. Tim worked
in silence, just him and a canvas, occasionally glancing toward the
fading light on the other side of the garage window. He had moved
all of his equipment into the garage some time ago. Marcello had a
habit of letting himself into the house, occasionally commenting on
Tim’s work. His words were encouraging, but still
invasive.

Later, when Tim brought
home a one-night stand who turned out to be an art student, the guy
had stood there and critiqued one of Tim’s paintings. Like it was
any of his business! Of course Tim didn’t admit the work was his
own, but that had been the final straw. The paintings were as
private as his emotions—not to be shared with just
anyone.

So Tim had cleared out the
garage and made it his studio. Usually he found painting
therapeutic, but today it only seemed to increase his frustration.
Nothing came out like he wanted it to, the canvas growing darker as
he added more and more layers of failure. He was trying not to
think of Ben, desperately avoiding thoughts of where he was or what
he was doing. Or what was being done to him.

Still the images came
unbidden. A hello kiss for Jace when he came in the door. That shy
feeling that comes from being apart, especially when the other
person means so much to you. Jace picking Ben up. Carrying him down
the hall. Laying him on the bed.

Tim tossed aside the
paintbrush. Part of him felt like driving over there, kicking in
the door, and begging Ben to run away with him. Despite how
pathetic this would make him seem, the idea was
tempting.

Instead he picked up the
brush, closed his eyes, and thought of Ben. Not what he was doing
at this moment, but who he was, how complete he made Tim feel. When
they were in high school, Ben had given Tim the affection he was
desperate for while showing him how to be free. Now Ben represented
hope, the promise of an end to his solitude. Someone he could share
his life with.

Taking a deep breath, Tim
opened his eyes and continued painting.

* * * * *

Tim understood why Ben
didn’t answer his phone that first day. That he didn’t answer the
second day was an ill omen. Tim tried anyway, hoping to get
through. On the third day he abandoned all subtlety and called
every hour. He cursed himself for not setting up the voicemail
before giving Ben the phone. At least then Ben might give into
temptation and listen to what he had to say.

Tim didn’t have a plan. He
had nothing.

He was deep into one of his
evening painting sessions when he heard a car pull in the driveway.
He shot out the side door in seconds, hoping to see Ben smiling at
him through the windshield. Instead he found a huge man getting out
of an even bigger Rolls-Royce Phantom.

“
Hello, my handsome
prince,” Marcello said theatrically.

“
Hey,” Tim replied, forcing
his eyes away from the car. Whenever Marcello came around, he made
some excuse to enter the house. Tim understood why. Others visited
graves, but he and Marcello were lucky to have this piece of Eric
left behind.

“
It’s hotter than Satan’s
butt crack out here.” Marcello dabbed at his forehead with a
handkerchief. “Please tell me you have the air conditioner cranked
up to the max.”

“
Of course.” Tim led him
inside to the living room before fetching drinks from the kitchen.
He always kept a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator for
Marcello. Tim popped the cork, grabbing a glass to go with it and a
bottle of beer for himself. When he reentered the living room,
Marcello was glancing around as if at an exhibition.

“
The parties that used to
take place here,” he said as Tim poured his champagne. “You know, I
don’t think a single party at my house has ended without someone
getting into an argument, but here people behaved respectably. Ah,
thank you!”

Tim raised his bottle in a
quick toast, took a swig, and sat in the chair opposite Marcello.
“It was Eric. People never argued here because they didn’t want to
upset him.”

“
Quite so.” Marcello
nodded. “Do you ever think about continuing the
tradition?”

Tim shook his head. “It
wouldn’t be the same.”

“
I suppose not. Well,
speaking of parties, guess who’s turning fifty?”

“
Your nephew?” Tim teased.
“I know it can’t be you, because I was at your fiftieth last
year.”

“
And that wasn’t my first.”
Marcello took a dainty sip of his champagne, the light catching the
glass and the rings on his fingers. “I’m having a real bash this
year, no expense spared.”

“
If you want me to jump out
of the cake, you can forget it.”

“
I’d rather you jump out of
those clothes.” Marcello chuckled at the idea, then tutted when Tim
didn’t look amused. “You seem tense tonight.”

Tim sighed. “Sorry. Don’t
take this as a hint, but I’m sexually frustrated.”

“
Easily cured,” Marcello
said. “I can’t imagine you having trouble attracting bees to the
flower. Or if you’re tired of the scene, I’d be happy to send over
one of my boys.”

Tim shook his head.
“There’s only one guy who can scratch my itch.”

“
And? Has he never laid
eyes on you?”

Tim smiled at the
compliment. “It’s Ben’s boyfriend that’s the problem.”

Marcello waved a hand
dismissively. “That’s only a problem if you get caught.”

“
It’s more than just sex,”
Tim said. He took another swig. “Have you ever been in
love?”

“
I’ve always been in love
with the idea of being in love, if that counts.”

“
Seriously.” Over the
years, Tim had seen a number of guys on Marcello’s arm, most of
them young and gorgeous. And they didn’t seem to be there under
duress. At first Tim thought it was the money, and maybe it was for
a few of them, but others seemed to genuinely find
something
about Marcello
appealing. “You never seem to have trouble getting what you
want.”

“
Success in love comes much
as it does in business. Aggression and persistence will get you
most of the way, with a little sweet talk to seal the deal.”
Marcello appraised him. “In your case, a pair of Speedos should do
the trick. My birthday party is at Splashtown this weekend. I won’t
be swimming, but I always enjoy the view. I have the whole park
reserved for me and my friends.”

“
Isn’t that down in San
Antonio?”

Marcello nodded. “I have
two party buses reserved to shuttle us all there. Why don’t you
come and bring this Ben person with you?”

Tim leaned back. “I doubt
his boyfriend will allow that.”

“
Bring him as
well.”

Tim snorted.

“
I’m serious.” Marcello
leaned forward. “Do you really think he can compete with
you?”

That was a tricky question.
Tim avoided conversations about Jace, so he didn’t know much about
him. From the photo he had seen, he was an okay-looking guy.
Handsome in an offbeat way. But Tim had taken good care of his
body, and it wouldn’t hurt to remind Ben of his assets.

“
When Ben sees you and this
other person together,” Marcello said, “one of you is going to pale
in comparison. I wouldn’t bet a penny on this boyfriend of his. If
it doesn’t work out, I’m inviting the handsomest boys in Austin.
I’m sure you’ll find someone to soothe your broken
heart.”

“
That won’t be
necessary.”

When it came to advice,
Marcello made a poor replacement for Eric, but he might be on to
something this time. He knew how to get what he wanted, and Tim
sure as hell wanted Ben.

The next day he called only
once, unperturbed when he still didn’t get an answer. Tim went
through the motions of the day, waiting until evening when he was
sure Ben would be out of class. Then he drove over to the duplex
and rang the bell. Allison opened the door, eyebrows raised as if
his every thought was transparent.

“
He’s not here,” she
said.

“
Does he have a class this
late?”

“
He’s usually home by now.
Just not this home.”

“
Jace?”

She nodded.
“Sorry.”

Well, that was something.
At least she didn’t look smug as she shut the door. Of course she
probably didn’t realize that Tim knew where Jace lived. Or that Tim
was crazy enough to head straight into enemy territory. Why
shouldn’t he? Jace was invited to the party too. Besides, it was
time he learned firsthand what he was up against.