Heartless (Keeping Secrets) (10 page)

“I
DON
’
T
think you’re really like this,” Tommy said as we sat down in a sunny spot on the lawn. There were only six or seven people out on the quad. All of them were bundled up. My stomach was in such a hard knot that I couldn’t eat, so I sipped on my milk box.

“Like what?” I asked.

“You’re thoughtless, ruthless, and cruel to people you consider beneath you. I don’t remember you being that way in middle school. Hell, even as a freshman you weren’t that bad.” Didn’t he understand that I had earned the reputation I carried fair and square? “I don’t think this is you. This is that damn mask you wear like a freaking armor plate. You’ve let him turn you into an asshole.” It hurt when he called me an asshole. It really hurt when he compared me to Jonathan, and I didn’t doubt that he just had.

“I….” I didn’t know what to say. I searched for the words and came up empty-handed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to keep this mask up, Jason. You’re a beautiful person, and it’s okay to let people see that.” My heart fluttered. He really thought I was beautiful? “There is a side to you that’s deeper than what you just showed. The person I know, my boyfriend, doesn’t hurt people for something as stupid as a few snarky words.” But I had. It was just something that I did. That I’d always done. What did he see in me that I didn’t see in myself? “I don’t want you to be an asshole, J. You’re better than that.”

I swallowed. “Is that what you want?”

“I want you to know that it’s okay to let some of the image go. I don’t expect anything overnight, but I want you to try and be nicer.”

“They hurt me first.” It was childish. I know. But my first reaction was always to lash out. Never physically, but my mouth often did what my fists couldn’t.

“You’re better than that,” he repeated. I reached out. I was in unfamiliar territory here. I needed his touch. He opened his arms, and I went into them. I didn’t care if anyone said something. I needed him.

“I don’t know if I’m better than that,” I whispered, inhaling his scent. He’d used some kind of musky deodorant today, probably Axe or something. It suited him.

“I know you are.”

How could he know that? How could he say that with such absolute conviction? I’d ruined dozens of people. I’d ruined
him
once. Didn’t that make me a bad person? Wasn’t the proof in the proverbial pudding in this instance? I clutched him tight. His belief in me was staggering. Even if he was seeing something in me that didn’t exist, I would bring it into creation. If I really wasn’t a good person, I would try to be. For him.

Chapter Ten

“
W
E
’
RE
going to Club Eleven on Thursday night, so be prepared,” Tommy informed me as I approached him after school. Club Eleven wasn’t actually a club. It was a place downtown above the gay bar Scandals that did dance lessons and hosted a variety of other pro-gay meetings. I’d been once with one of my exes.

“What are we doing at Club Eleven?” I asked. I hadn’t heard about a rally or anything, and I was usually connected when stuff went on in the city.

“We’re going to do some tango dance lessons.” The fact that Tommy managed that with a straight face amazed me. Gay or not, Tommy did not exude the image of the type of guy who would be cool taking tango lessons.

“Tango lessons?” I repeated dumbly. I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

He frowned. “You don’t want to go?”

“I don’t want to go if you don’t want to go,” I clarified. I walked over to him as he leaned against the side of B building and braced my hands on either side of his body, trapping him.

“I thought you liked to dance? You certainly liked to dance with Danny at the drum circle.” Was that a healthy dose of jealousy in his voice? I leaned forward and nuzzled the side of his neck, nipping the flesh I found there.

“Chill out, love. I’m not, like, a
Dancing with the Stars
addict or anything. I just like to dance at the drum circle,” I said. He relaxed into my touch and tilted his head to the side obligingly. “I’d rather go there.”

“I want to go on a real date.”

“We can do dinner at the Mellow Mushroom beforehand. How about that?” I asked.

He considered it for a long time before he spoke. “Okay.” He pushed off the wall, and I stumbled backward. Luckily, his instincts were sharper than mine, because before I could fall, he had grabbed me and pressed my back against the cool brick of the building. I was instantly hard. I’m not opposed to topping, but there is nothing better in my mind than the strength of another man above me. Maybe that was why I had such a thing for jocks or whatever; they had this image of being “men” and being the aggressors. I liked that.

He chuckled. “Guess someone is happy to see me.” I resisted the urge to grind up against him. I felt like I hadn’t got off in days. Thinking back, I realized that I hadn’t. I wanted him, but I couldn’t have him here at school, against the side of the wall, no matter how much my body was completely down with the idea. He seemed to read the desire in my face because his voice got huskier, and he pressed his hardening member against mine. “I want you,” he said. “But I don’t want to do this too soon.” I think he was scared of hurting me at that point. It was so foreign to me that someone would actually try and be considerate that I felt a pang of annoyance. Didn’t he understand that I needed him?

“Take me home,” I said. Even if we didn’t do it, we would be able to find relief. The jeans pinched my junk like no one’s business, and the idea of Tommy’s mouth and hands on me had me panting already.

“I don’t trust myself near you and a bed,” he admitted. It was the first time he’d admitted to having a hard time controlling himself around me. A few days between us and only two orgasms apparently made both of us ready to screw ourselves silly. How were we ever going to get by sleeping side by side every night if I got to move in? I knew the answer. We wouldn’t. One of us would eventually have a moment of weakness. I’m not ashamed to admit it would probably be me, and we’d end up having sex.

“Then do me here.” The phrase “do me” was probably misleading. I wanted to have a good rub off, and here seemed a better option because he had less time to think about it. He hesitated. “Please, Tommy,” I begged. “I want to feel you.” And I did. I wanted to feel him like I wanted to breathe.

He glanced around. It was after school, so the student population was down to almost nil. Satisfied, he pulled me deeper into the pathway between the buildings, away from the few people who remained.

“Wanted to touch you all day,” he said as he pressed me back against the brick. I just made a sound of happiness and let him sneak his cold hands underneath my hoodie and touch the skin. He went to his knees and licked my stomach, nipped the muscle there, and then worked on my jeans. It didn’t feel right. It was too similar to before.

“Wait,” I whispered, even as I arched up into his hands as my jeans finally gave way, sliding down my hips. He paused.

“What is it, baby?” he asked. I looked down at him and took in his gorgeous gray eyes filled to the brim with desire, his flushed cheeks, his strong limbs. I wanted nothing more than to find release inside his mouth. But it wasn’t right.

“I want to suck you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think better of them. I rarely gave head. It just wasn’t my MO, and when I did, someone always paid for it. This was a gift I wanted to give Tommy freely. I saw a shudder work through his body as he took in what I was offering. “Please, let me. I want to taste you so bad….” I tried to put everything I was feeling into my expression. He surged to his feet and unbuttoned his pants and lowered his zipper in record time. He was straining the boxer briefs he wore beneath. I licked my lips, knowing that this was going to be good. I cupped him through the material and rubbed in a way that was guaranteed to make his hips swivel. He gasped and I reveled in it.

“Suck me, Jason.” The command nearly had me shooting my own load. I fell to my knees and got to work.

I
STILL
had the taste of him on my tongue while I finished up my calculus homework. I’d had to wait for his wrestling practice to get over with before we could leave, but I’d sent him there with a smile on his face. I had done my homework in the time in-between. I glanced at my watch. I had another five or ten minutes before he was scheduled to get out, but I didn’t want to sit on the bleachers any longer. It would be a little warmer in the weight room, so I thought I’d go wait in there.

Practice had apparently gotten out a little early, but Tommy was nowhere in sight. I circled the sets of weight stations and padded across the thinly carpeted floor that always perfumed the air with the smell of male sweat. Where was he? I walked through the shower room that separated the weight room from the room that had the huge mat in it for wrestling practice. The lights were dimmed. What was going on?

“I can’t do this.” Tommy’s voice reached my ears. At first my heart expanded, and I walked eagerly toward the sound. Then what he’d said penetrated my haze of happiness. “I can’t hurt him like that. You don’t understand.”

“You agreed to this, Tommy. You said the bastard needed to be knocked down a peg or two,” an unfamiliar voice replied. “You’re just supposed to fuck him and then dump him.” I had the sneaking suspicion who “him” was. I felt sick.

“I’m not doing it, Rick. You don’t know what he’s been through,” Tommy snapped. Rick Castalla? That SOB hated me.

“Don’t tell me that you
love
him! Give me a break, Johnson. That little slut is a bastard to everyone. He needs to be brought down to size.”

“I won’t do it. This may have started out as a game, but it’s not to me anymore. He’s so much more than everyone says he is.”

“You’ve just gone soft. Is his ass that good, Tommy?”

“Because you’re my friend, I’ll let that slide. But if you ever talk about him like that again, I will fucking bury you.” Tommy sounded serious.

I couldn’t breathe. I trusted him with some of my deepest secrets, and now I knew for a fact that I couldn’t trust him at all. Even if he changed his mind, he’d still kept it from me, led me to believe that everything had fallen in place like some kind of movie. I turned around and walked back the way I came. Ran would’ve been a better verb, but fuck, I just couldn’t think of it at the time. I had never felt the weight of betrayal so deeply.

I made my way out into the parking lot, not seeing anything. I was hyperaware of the tears on my face and prayed that no one saw me. I passed Tommy’s car and resisted the urge to kick the damn door. All his honesty and everything else was such bullshit. He’d never been honest with me. Not from the very beginning. I couldn’t breathe as I thought about what he knew about me. Everything I’d fucking told him about me. I wanted Kevin. I wiped my face angrily and started running faster.

Chapter Eleven

I
WENT
home. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I didn’t want to admit to Kevin that dating Tommy had been a bad idea. I was sweaty but cold as I stepped onto the first rusted step that led up to my apartment. I knew Mom was going to Aunt Wanda’s, and I knew Jonathan would be waiting for me. I’d managed to avoid him the past few days, but I was done with that. I’d make him as insignificant as the other boys at school.

I would let him do what he wanted to me and use him as just another person to scratch my itches. It would save me on travel time, anyway. What did it matter? So long as I got off, right? My plan was fucked up, and I knew it, but I was so beyond caring. It sounded like a great idea. If I could make Jonathan valueless, then I would win.

“
Conejito
?” Juan’s voice snapped me out of my near-manic mind state. I probably looked freaking bonkers right now. I looked up and saw him just outside his apartment doorway, looking at me like he pitied me. “
Conejito
, Jon is up there by himself.”

“No shit,” I said. Sarcasm layered my voice, but I knew I sounded like I was upset. My tones were wobbling like I was hitting puberty all over again.

“When someone has the look in his eye that you have,
conejito
, they need a stiff drink and someone to listen. Papa is gone down to my Tío Carlos’s with my brothers. Want to come inside?” The kindness was my undoing. It seemed like I was a sucker for a crumb of decency. I nodded, my eyes already starting to tear up again. He welcomed me inside and sat me down on the couch. It was a comfortable couch, something cheap, probably taken off someone’s hands just as ours had been. Juan went into the kitchen and made me a drink. I had no idea what he put in it, but I know it burned like a son of a bitch when I took a swig.

I choked, and Juan pounded me on the back until I quit. I looked up at him, and he gave me an apologetic look. I took a more cautious sip. My stomach rolled, but I tolerated it.

“Tell me, what’s going on,
conejito
?” Juan asked, sitting beside me on the couch. I did. I spilled my guts to him. I told him about how I’d come out, how Tommy had asked to blow me years later, how I’d videotaped it and sent it to his mother via her blog. I told him about our reunion, our plans for me moving in, and then his betrayal. I left out the part about my stepdad. He seemed to know already, and I didn’t want to delve into that particular mess.

“He said he loved me, and I believed him. I’m fucking pathetic.” I downed some more of my drink and sighed miserably. I was numb internally now, and I was starting to feel a little better. Distance always helped me with that. It was one of the main reasons that I left the house right after Jonathan was done. I could breathe so long as I wasn’t trapped.

“Your
pendejo
boy didn’t understand that you were special. That’s okay. He may not be bright, but he learned,” Juan said after a moment of contemplation.

I snorted. “Learned? Are you kidding? Our entire relationship has been a big joke.”