A Clean Break (Gay Amish Romance Book 2) (17 page)

David’s throat tightened, and for a moment he thought he might actually cry right in the middle of the bar. He’d seen the gay couple in that movie back at the Sky-Vu, and of course had seen the men in the secret magazine he’d bought. There had been the men holding hands on the street, and Aaron and Jen had told them over and over that it was normal. That there were millions of gay people.

But here in the bar, surrounded by at least a
hundred
other people like him, David realized it was
really
true. “Do you think one day we’ll get used to it?”

Isaac tore his eyes away from the men by the pool table. “One day, I guess.”

A man walking by let his gaze linger on Isaac, who was wearing one of the tight T-shirts with long sleeves—a Henley, Aaron had called it. The dark green set off his eyes and sandy hair, which stood up a bit off his forehead with the gel. Even sitting down, Isaac’s dark jeans showed off his lean thighs. His navy sneakers were something called suede, which was soft and fuzzy.

With a glare at the man, who was already looking at someone else, David rubbed his palm over Isaac’s bouncing knee. “What do you think? Do you like it here?”

Isaac stopped jiggling, and he nodded. “It’s nice to see other people like us.” Tentatively, he covered David’s hand with his own.

“Awww. Okay, so you two are
adorable
, and we want to hear all about your adventures in the big city,” said Clark, turning his sharp, eager gaze on them.

Isaac whipped his hand back, and David took hold of his beer glass. He tried to think of something to say, but came up blank. “Um…”

Clark was tall and thin, with short dark waves of hair that looked stiff to the touch. His skin was pale, and David was pretty sure he could see Clark’s nipples through his short-sleeved silver shirt, which was made of some kind of shimmery material. David wasn’t sure how old he was, since his face seemed very smooth, although there were lines around his mouth.

“Clark, don’t overwhelm them.” Dylan clucked his tongue. “Down, boy.”

Dylan had very dark skin, and his hair was knotted into dozens of short braids. He wore jeans and a regular T-shirt—nothing fancy like Clark—although the cotton did cling to his broad muscles. He looked to be in his thirties, but again David couldn’t be sure. In Zebulon, he’d known everyone’s ages, and no one wore makeup—certainly not
men
. Dylan didn’t seem to, but Clark’s lips were unnaturally glossy.

“I’m not overwhelming them!” Clark tilted his head. “Am I overwhelming you?”

“They’ve had a lot to take in the last couple of weeks,” Aaron said. To David and Isaac he added, “Clark is just a little excitable sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Isaac smiled. “Um, it’s really nice of you to invite us out.”

Clark waved his hand with a flick of his wrist. “Of course! We need to welcome our new gays properly. Plus, you’re Aaron’s brother, and Aaron’s brother’s boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow. “Yes? Boyfriends?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

Isaac added, “We don’t have an open relationship if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Duly noted,” Clark replied with a chuckle.

Dylan held up the pitcher to David. “Refill?”

He was surprised to see his glass was empty. “It’s almost gone, though.” He didn’t want to be greedy.

But Dylan was already pouring. “Plenty more where this came from.”

“Aren’t you polite!” Clark said, beaming at David. Then he grimaced. “And I promise I’ll stop treating you like an exotic anthropological experiment now. My bad.”

“Anthropology is the study of other cultures,” Aaron clarified.

“My bad again.” Clark leaned in. “Okay, let me just say that you have the cutest little accents.”

“Accents?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah, but it’s hard to place. It’s because of the German you speak, right?” Dylan asked.

Clark piped up. “I thought it was Dutch?”

“It’s German,” David, Isaac, and Aaron answered in unison.

Everyone laughed, and Clark raised his hands, the bracelets on his wrist jangling. “My bad times three. Guess you get that a lot, huh?”

“The whole Pennsylvania Dutch thing makes it confusing for people,” Aaron said. “It’s a unique dialect of German. I didn’t realize I had an accent at first either. I think it’s gone now. The thing that’s really hard is the English words we never heard growing up. Out here in the world it’s different.”

Dylan nodded. “That makes sense. Just ask us if we’re not making sense to y’all, okay?”

“Speaking of accents, how much beer have you had?” Clark narrowed his eyes at Dylan. “Your Texas drawl doesn’t usually come out until after midnight.”

“What can I say? It’s been a long week, and I might have started early tonight.” He raised his hand as a waiter passed by and pointed to the empty pitcher. “Isaac, Aaron said you started at one of those alternative schools this week. How are you liking it?”

“It’s great so far. The teachers are really nice, and no one’s made fun of me. Not yet, anyway. But it’s scary to realize how much I have to learn. All this history I didn’t even know about. Wars, and how people used to have to drink from separate water fountains. I didn’t realize just how ignorant they keep us back home.”

“They have really small classes and mostly older students, right?” Clark asked. “Flexible schedules and that kind of thing?”

“Uh-huh. Some of us are youngies—I mean teenagers—but there are a lot of people in their twenties. It’s set up differently than a regular high school. At least that’s what they tell me. We come in and have classes, and meet with teachers in little groups. It’s apparently a lot more flexible.”

“My co-worker’s kid went to one because he couldn’t stay in regular school. He’s got ADHD, but who doesn’t these days?” Clark said.

David thought about AIDS and wondered if it was similar. “Is that serious?”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Nah, it just means the little bastard can’t sit still and has the attention span of a goldfish.”

“
Clark
.” Aaron gave him a look. “You know that it’s a genuine problem for some people.”

“I know, I know. But everything is a disorder or a syndrome now. Like SAD. Boys, that’s Seasonal Affective Disorder, a.k.a. winter sucks. I mean, come on. In the winter the days are short and cold, and it’s depressing compared to the summer. It’s not a
disorder
.”

Dylan added, “I’ve got to agree with him there. Everyone’s happy with more sunlight.”

“You have a point.” Aaron picked up the pitcher and topped up glasses. “Although people in California shouldn’t complain about the winter. Sure, it gets surprisingly cold here in San Fran, but it’s still nothing compared to the snow and ice back east.”

“It gets surprisingly cold here in
August
.” Clark sipped his beer. “That’s why they had to make this city so fabulous, or no one would live here. Weren’t you boys living in Minnesota?”

David nodded. “It’s very cold.” Duh. They already know that.

“Colder than Ohio,” Isaac added. He shuddered. “I do not miss going to the outhouse.”

“Whoa—y’all used an outhouse? Seriously?” Dylan whistled. “That is hardcore. And in the winter? Yikes.”

Clark held his hand to his throat. Dark nail polish gleamed. “I simply can’t imagine. Nor do I want to. You poor things.”

David thought of how the outhouse door handle froze in the coldest months, and wondered who was shoveling a path from the house. Meanwhile, here he sat in an English bar—a
gay
bar—amid the warmth and chatter of hundreds of people. It was too warm to wear his jacket—a jacket that was far lighter than anything he’d wear in Zebulon.

“Sometimes it feels like it was all a dream.” It took a moment for David to realize he’d spoken aloud. He stared at his beer, conscious of all eyes on him. “That sounds dumb
.” I should just shut up and not talk
.

Isaac nudged his arm. “I feel the same way.”

“Doesn’t sound dumb to me at all,” Dylan said. “I’m from Nowhere, Texas. When I came here, it was a whole new world. It’s a cliché, but it’s true. My little town might as well be on the moon. That’s the great thing about the city. You can come here and start all over again. Everyone at this table’s done it.”

David glanced around. “I suppose that’s true.” He made a note to look up what
cliché
meant.

“Aaron says you’re a carpenter.” Clark tapped his chin. “You know, I need a new dining set. I’ve looked in hundreds of stores, and I simply give up. Maybe you can build something custom for me.”

“Of course.” A tendril of excitement uncurled in David’s belly. “I’m not sure if you’ll like my style, or what you’re looking for, but…”

“We can look at it right now.” Aaron pulled out his phone and tapped. “He already has a website. Just wait until you see these pieces. Amazing.”

While Clark and Dylan leaned over to look at the screen, David’s heart pounded. Isaac gave him an encouraging smile.
They’ll love it
, he mouthed.

Would they? Even with the English tools he’d used at June’s, he didn’t have the sophisticated machinery a furniture company would. His designs were simple and functional, and surely not fancy enough. His English clients seemed to like them, but maybe they wouldn’t be good enough for San Francisco.

“So elegant!” Clark exclaimed. “Oh my God, I love that chair. Dylan, do you see this?”

Dylan grinned at David. “Wow, man. This is impressive work.”

“Thank you.” David tried not to feel too proud.

“Let me know as soon as you’re set up, because I am hiring you. You do this all by hand?” Clark asked. “Isaac, you’re a lucky boy. Those are some talented fingers on your man.”

Blushing, David couldn’t help but laugh. Isaac ducked his head.

“Sorry—I’m full of innuendo,” Clark said, although he didn’t seem sorry at all.

Aaron laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Clark’s…a force of nature.”

“That’s right.” Clark took on a steely expression. “Paralegal by day. Purveyor of glitter and all things sparkly by night. A hundred and fifty-five pounds of fabulousness.”

“A hundred and how many?” Dylan asked under his breath.

“Oh shut up. Fine, a hundred and fifty-seven.”

“Math was never his strong suit,” Aaron whispered loudly.

“What do you do? A para…?” Isaac asked.

“A paralegal,” Clark answered. “Are you ready to be bored stiff? Although it’s more interesting than what Dylan does. He works in tech—of course, this is San Francisco after all. He codes all day. Although his office does have a trampoline. I’ll give them that.”

While Clark and Dylan talked about their jobs, David’s mind wandered to his own. He’d barely thought about it all day with Isaac, and now that he did the anxiety returned. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck. Finding an affordable workspace was just the beginning. Where would he get his wood? How would the delivery work once he’d actually made the pieces?

June had handled all that stuff, and he didn’t want to bother her. And he admitted to himself that he still didn’t want to call her because he didn’t want to know what Mother had said.

It could be months before the lawyer in Ohio managed to get their birth certificates, and David didn’t know when he would be able to get his driver’s license. Would he need it to go to one of the English lumber stores? Not that he had a vehicle anyway. When he imagined driving on the tangled city streets or the freeway where cars practically
flew
, acid bubbled in his stomach.

“Okay?” Isaac whispered.

Taking a breath, David nodded and gulped his beer. The others were talking about something he didn’t understand.

Isaac frowned. “Are you sure?”

He wanted to spill out all his worries, but what good would that do? Isaac had enough of his own starting school—he didn’t need David’s as well. He smiled. “I’m sure.”

As the conversation at the table quieted, Isaac motioned his hand between Dylan and Clark. “So, are you guys…”

They both laughed heartily, and Clark shook his head. “For a hot second back in the day. Let’s see… I was a sophomore—that’s the second year—at CCSF, and Dylan was a new college grad and fresh from the bus station. All wide eyed and vulnerable.” He pinched Dylan’s cheek.

Dylan slapped Clark’s hand away with a laugh. “Yes, and I screwed up my courage and went to Angel Dust, a gay club that’s been around since the name meant something.”

David didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t interrupt to ask.

Clark jumped back in. “There he met yours truly, an angel fallen from heaven to be his guide to the city and general fabulousness.” He put his hand to the side of his mouth and hissed, “He actually wore a plaid flannel shirt to a dance club.”

“As you can see, my fashion choices have improved,” Dylan said. “Aaron, excellent sartorial work on our new friends here, by the way. You guys fit right in.”

“Really?” Isaac asked hopefully.

“Absolutely.” Clark drew a circle in the air with his finger. “It’s all working for you. Both of you.”

David wasn’t sure whether to smile or run to the bathroom and look in the mirror to see for himself. He shifted on his chair. He was wearing the boxer briefs tonight, and he liked them better than the briefs so far. He took another swallow of cool beer, noticing that his head was buzzing pleasantly.

“Anyway, back to me. And Dylan, I guess.” Clark flicked his wrist. “So, for a few days we went everywhere and did everything, and the sex was nice, but then we woke up and realized we’re just friends.”

“And the rest is history,” Dylan added. “He and Jen were buddies from summer Bible camp, and when she came here for her residency, we clicked.”

David stared at Clark. “You went to religious camp?”

“You bet.” Clark pulled a tube from his pocket and swiped it over his lips, smacking them loudly. “What, I don’t look like I grew up going to prayer circles and Jesus camp? Let’s just say the Seventh-day Adventists and I parted ways as soon as I could get my tight ass out of Stockton.” He shuddered. “Ugh. Central California.”

“He still sees his family, though,” Dylan said. “They’re pretty accepting, all things considered.”