Winter Oranges (23 page)

Dylan announced in the car that he was taking Jason to a tapas bar in Spokane, even though it was almost an hour’s drive. It took a moment for Jason to figure out Dylan had said “tapas” and not “topless,” which caused Dylan to go off on a tangent about how topless tapas would undoubtedly be the next big thing. Jason didn’t bother to ask how Dylan knew about tapas bars in Spokane. Knowing where to go regardless of what town they were in was only one of Dylan’s many talents.

It took a while for Jason to shake his guilt at leaving Ben behind, but he always had fun with Dylan. They took a small booth in the back corner—and Jason was pretty sure Dylan had slipped an outrageous tip to the girl at the door to get it—and began ordering. The food arrived a few bites at a time, allowing them to stretch their meal into an all-evening affair.

Dylan talked nonstop. He talked about Hollywood. About a lousy script he’d been sent by his agent. About a one-shot part he’d landed in a prime-time drama, which was why he had to be back in LA by Wednesday morning, and how if they liked his work, they had a two-week project they might choose him for. He talked about his parents and the rumors that one of their former costars had recently checked into rehab. Finally, after their meal was over, long after Jason had quit drinking and decided he would definitely be the one driving home, Dylan pointed across the restaurant to the bar. They’d arrived well before the dinner rush, but now, several hours later, the place was packed.

“See the guy at the end? The one in the blue shirt?”

Jason looked. The man was hard to miss, not least of all because he was staring right at them. “Yeah.”

“He’s been giving you ‘come fuck me’ eyes for the last hour, and you haven’t even noticed.”

Jason squirmed in his seat. “I’m here with you.”

“Honey, I know I’m hot, but that doesn’t mean you should miss an invitation as blatant as that one.”

Jason shrugged uncomfortably. “You know I’m not into that.”

“What? Sex? Since when?”

“Sex with strangers.”

Dylan leaned closer, grinning wickedly. “He won’t be a stranger for long. Especially not with me involved.”

Jason blinked at him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we should take him home with us.”

Jason glanced toward the man in question. He was a couple of years younger than them, but not much. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Now that you’re out, why not run with it? He’s obviously into you.” He winked at Jason. “And I don’t have a problem sharing you.”

“I don’t want anybody to know where I live.”

“Why not?”

“Because he could be a total nutjob.”

Dylan shrugged as if the point were completely inconsequential. “So we’ll go to a hotel. I don’t mind. I’ll even pay.”

Jason shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. His headache was coming back. At some other point in his life, he might have gone along just to make Dylan happy, but not now. Not when Ben was waiting for him. “Not tonight.” He signaled to the waiter for their check, being sure not to make eye contact with the guy at the bar.

“Your loss, JayWalk.” He laughed. “Well,
our
loss. But I’m pretty sure you’re the one he’s after.”

They drove home in relative silence, listening to the radio. It wasn’t until Jason unlocked the front door to let them inside that he realized his mistake.

“What the fuck?” Dylan asked, grabbing Jason’s arm as he tried to take off his coat. “Somebody’s been in your house!”

“What?” Jason asked, confused. He turned to search for whatever had caused Dylan’s alarm, but saw only Ben, standing just inside the door of the living room. “What are you talking about?”

“The TV’s on,” Dylan said, pulling out his cell phone. “You should look around and make sure nothing’s missing.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling the police to report a break-in!”

“No!” Jason grabbed the phone out of Dylan’s hand. Thank goodness he hadn’t noticed that the snow globe had been moved too. “Nobody broke in. I . . . I like to leave the TV on when I leave. You know. To confuse burglars.”

He couldn’t tell if Dylan believed him or not, but he stopped trying to call the cops. Jason was glad for that, but he soon realized the cops were the least of his problems. Once they removed their coats, Dylan turned to him, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, his eyes burning with a familiar heat. It made Jason’s blood warm, kindling all the feelings Dylan had long inspired in him. But it also sent off warning sirens in some secret part of his brain.

“Come here.” Dylan pulled Jason into his arms. “I feel like you’ve been miles away all night.”

Jason didn’t resist, but he did his best not to encourage Dylan either. “I told you, I think I’m getting sick.”

“So?”

“I don’t want you to catch it.”

“I’ll risk it.” Dylan kissed his neck, raising goose bumps on Jason’s back, then kissed his cheek. “God, I missed you,” he whispered into Jason’s ear. “I spent all day Thursday thinking about taking off your clothes. My family was passing the turkey, and I was picturing that cute little birthmark on your shoulder blade.”

“I have a birthmark on my shoulder blade?”

“Either that or a really ugly tattoo.”

“Huh. I should probably get that checked.”

“What you should do,” Dylan brushed his lips over Jason’s, “is quit talking.”

Dylan kissed him, and Jason moaned, torn between the man he’d always wanted and the one who stood watching them from the other side of the living room door. Jason’d spent ten years waiting for moments like this one. And yet now, all he could think about was Ben, standing only a few feet away. He hated to imagine how Ben must be feeling.

“Wait,” Jason said, gently pulling away. “Stop. Please.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” Dylan didn’t let him go. He kept one arm tight around Jason’s waist and put his other hand against Jason’s cheek. “Honey, what is it? You’ve had me at arm’s length ever since I got here. Have I upset you? Did I make you mad? Tell me what I did and I’ll fix it.”

“No.” Jason’s voice came out wrong. His throat felt tight. This was so much harder than it needed to be. He loved Dylan—he’d always loved Dylan—but Dylan had never loved him back, and he knew he had to stop things before they went any further. But how to do that without ruining the only friendship he had? He glanced toward the living room—hoping to see Ben, and yet terrified of what he’d see on his sweet, trusting face—but the doorway was empty.

Still, his mind had found the focus it needed.

Ben.

All he had to do was tell the truth. Not the whole truth, of course. Dylan would think he’d lost his mind. But a partial truth would do.

Jason turned back to Dylan—back to those patient, caring eyes waiting for an explanation—and he found himself smiling at how wonderfully easy it was to simply blurt out the truth. “I met someone.”

Dylan blinked once in confusion, but then comprehension dawned, and his face broke into a broad smile. “Really? When?”

“A few weeks ago. Right after I moved in, actually.”

“Where?”

Shit. He hadn’t thought of that. “In town.”

“And it’s serious?”

“I guess it is.”

“You
guess
?”

“Well . . .” Jason found his smile growing as he considered the question. “It’s serious enough that I feel like this—” he laid his hand on Dylan’s chest “—I feel like this would be wrong. I don’t think it’d be fair.”

“Oh, honey, why didn’t you say so? That’s fantastic!” Dylan pulled him close again, but this time in a simple, tight, back-pounding hug. “That’s wonderful! I mean, you could have said something back at the restaurant when I still had a chance with the guy at the bar—”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m kidding! Jesus, Jason. I don’t care about that. I’m just so glad you’re not alone anymore.” He pulled away and smiled down at Jason. “So, tell me more. Who is he?”

“His name’s Ben.”

“And when do I get to meet him?”

Shit. He hadn’t thought of that either. “Well, that could be a problem.”

“Why?”

“He’s out of town. For Thanksgiving.” And thank goodness for the holiday, which gave him an easy excuse.

“He didn’t invite you?”

“His family’s a bit uptight, and we haven’t really known each other that long—”

“I get it.” Dylan patted him playfully on the cheek, then leaned in and kissed the other one. “I’m really happy for you, Jason.”

“You are?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I guess . . .” He was relieved, now that the moment had passed, but confused too, unable and unwilling to name his conflicted feelings. “I don’t really know where things stand between us.”

“Between ‘us’ meaning you and Ben, or meaning you and me?”

“Well, both I guess. Things with Ben are . . .” He glanced again toward the living room, but Ben still hadn’t appeared. “They’re complicated.”

Dylan laughed. “Aren’t they always?”

“Not like this.” But it came out a bit too emphatic, with a severity that made Dylan frown, and Jason smiled to take the edge off it. “It’s good though. He makes me happy.”

“I’m glad.”

“But what about you and me?”

“We’re as good as we’ve always been.”

Of course. Jason had never been as loose with his affection as Dylan, but he’d had a few lovers over the years, and Dylan had never held them against him. Jason sighed and stepped closer, longing to go back to the kiss he’d just ended. He didn’t desire Dylan as he once had, but the shift in their relationship left a hole in his heart. There was an undeniable sense of loss that told him things would never be the same. He settled easily into Dylan’s arms and laid his head on his shoulder, reveling at how familiar it was, yet reeling at the thought that it may never be like this again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that again. I mean it. I’m happy for you.”

“Okay. Then . . . thank you.”

“You’re welcome, JayWalk. Anything for you. You know that.” He chuckled, and Jason knew he was about to turn the tables. Dylan could never stay serious for long. “You owe me though. I could have played the jilted lover card to the hilt on that guy at the restaurant.”

“You’re mixing metaphors.”

“Who cares? It would’ve worked like a charm. I could have cried on his shoulder all night.”

Jason shook his head, laughing. “You’re an asshole.”

“And yet you still love me.”

“I do.” And for the first time, admitting it didn’t feel frightening or awkward or fraught with peril. It felt . . .

It felt casual.

“I do,” he said again. “Although I’ll never understand why.”

“It’s a mystery to me too, kid.”

Still, no need to stray too close to the elephant in the room. He pulled back enough to look up into Dylan’s eyes. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Alone?” Dylan asked, his tone playful.

“Alone.”

“Fair enough.”

Dylan kissed him once more on the forehead and let him go, and Jason decided as he went slowly up the stairs that he liked casual. For the first time in forever, casual felt pretty damn good.

He was forced to leave the globe in the living room. There was simply no graceful way of retrieving it before retreating to his bedroom, so he waited, biding his time until he heard Dylan come upstairs. Even then, he had to wait while Dylan chose one of the three guest rooms to sleep in and made use of the bathroom. At long last, the house lay quiet.

Jason cracked his bedroom door and peered out. Whichever room Dylan was in, he’d left the door open, but it was too dark to see into any of them. Jason crept into the hallway.

“Is everything okay?” Dylan asked. He was right next door, in the room that adjoined Jason’s via the balcony.

“I need some water.”

He hurried down the stairs. He found the living room completely dark, and yet it was strangely easy to discern Ben’s pale figure by the window. He turned when Jason entered, and Jason held a finger up to his lips, not realizing until Ben threw his head back in a silent laugh how absurd it was for him to tell Ben to be quiet. But at least he’d managed to make Ben smile.