Love Starved (5 page)

He looked at Angel to see if his eyes were glazing over the way most people’s did when he started talking about his job, but no, he was listening attentively.

“I’m guessing you succeeded?” Angel asked with a smile.

“Well, four years ago I began to develop a series of workshops for different levels of the corporate hierarchy, teaching people how to avoid the social engineering traps while also testing their vigilance in practice before and after the seminars. That was when my company really took off. I’ve been adapting the program to different types of businesses ever since, and recently I’ve been asked to turn my teaching materials into a book. It’s coming out next month. So yes, I think I succeeded.” He smiled proudly. “I have several people working with me now on a more or less steady basis, and I’m thinking about expanding to other cities.”

Angel seemed genuinely impressed. “Wow. Congratulations! So what is the most basic mistake people make?”

Micah told him. And then he told him more when Angel asked, and it was so different from talking to either his friends and family or his coworkers. Here was a stranger who seemed fascinated with all the nuances and processes, who asked intelligent, thoughtful questions and didn’t look bored in the slightest when Micah let his enthusiasm take over and rattled on and on about the next books he wanted to write, the thrill of following leaked information to the source like a detective and the subtle details of social engineering simulations. It was refreshing and invigorating, and only when his plate was empty did Micah realize how long he’d been talking, not letting Angel get a word in edgewise.

“Oh.” He skidded to a stop and reached for his wine glass that had been mysteriously refilled. “I’m sorry; you should have stopped me. I get really garrulous when I start on this topic.”

Angel put his chin on his hand. “I like it. You have a lot of passion; that’s amazing. Passionate people are the most interesting kind. So, how did it start? Did you stumble upon a really good teacher in your high school computer class or did you teach yourself?”

Micah was saved from answering immediately by the return of their waiter. He nodded distractedly at the suggestion of ordering a cheese board and another carafe of the house wine, but his mind was busy processing the feelings Angel’s words awoke in him. So there were people who could see his obsession—his
passion—
as a good thing? Something interesting, even? The realization struck him off-balance, sudden and unexpected as it was.

Of course, he knew people who gladly talked shop with him for hours on end, but they were all fellow nerds, who shared his interests. Others, including his family and Daphne, either accepted the amount of time and thought Micah spent on work as something that came with the territory, or got instantly bored or annoyed when he veered into the topic. Unfortunately, Brian had been among the latter. He’d hated that Micah had another world apart from him, one that Brian didn’t understand and couldn’t be a part of. They’d always fought about Micah not having time for him when he got sucked into another project.

“Micah?” Angel’s concerned voice brought him back to reality. “We don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not. I was just curious.”

“No, it’s all right,” Micah assured him. “I just remembered something.”

He took the last swig of his wine, feeling the fuzzy warmth spread through him. Was it his second glass or his third? He wasn’t sure, with Angel keeping it full for him. No wonder even memories of Brian didn’t sting. They couldn’t touch him now. He was out on a date with a good-looking, interesting man, enjoying a wonderful meal in a beautiful place, feeling good and relaxed, open.

It was the openness—and the wine, probably—that made it so easy to start the story Micah never really told anyone. Not fully at least.

“I wasn’t out in high school,” he said, and Angel’s face took on an attentive expression. “I wanted to be, don’t get me wrong. I knew who I was when I started my freshman year and I planned to be open about it. I was pretty sure my parents would be okay with that and I wanted my friends, old and new, to know.”

The waiter came with the cheese board and more wine, and Micah waited until he was gone and Angel finished refilling his glass before he continued.

“But then something happened.” He picked up the glass to have something to occupy his hands. “Have you heard about the Marshall gay bashing? You probably haven’t. It was thirteen years ago and it wasn’t one of the most discussed.”

Angel shook his head, his face stricken. “Oh God, please tell me you didn’t—”

“No,” Micah hurried to assure him. “I didn’t even know them. But they were barely older than me and living in my town, and suddenly the thought of coming out as gay in a place where people did
that
to a couple of kids because they held hands in a park…”

He shook his head, the memory of his reaction still vivid, overwhelming. He’d had to stay home from school the day he’d heard about it, feeling sick and unreal, terror clawing at his insides. All he’d been able to think for days was:
It could be me in a year or two. It could be me and my first boyfriend.

“I couldn’t,” he said quietly and looked down at the table, blinking away the stinging in his eyes before it could turn into embarrassing tears. “I was too scared to come out after that.”

Suddenly, a warm hand was on his, and Micah started but didn’t pull away. When he looked up, Angel’s eyes were full of compassion.

“That’s understandable,” Angel said, simply. “You were protecting yourself, staying safe. It was a smart thing to do.”

Micah shrugged. “Smart” wasn’t a word that came to mind when he was thinking about it. Angel squeezed his hand.

“No, seriously. Why would you risk it in an environment that clearly wasn’t safe? I wasn’t out in high school either. My hometown was not a particularly accepting place, so I only told my best friends and my parents that I was bi. I wouldn’t deny it if someone asked, but I didn’t volunteer the information to the whole world. There’s nothing wrong in staying safe.”

“No one ever asked if I was gay,” Micah admitted, feeling strangely reassured. “Though I kind of made sure no one would suspect. I joined the computer club to make myself invisible. I figured if I was seen as a nerd, no one would bother to come close enough to figure out I was gay, too,” he said, the wine loosening his tongue. “It was supposed to be a hiding place, but instead, it became a haven. That was where it all started for me, first attempts at coding and then everything clicked. The spell was cast. I’ve never wanted to stop.”

He looked at their joined hands, feeling slightly awkward now that he had his bearings again, and Angel let go instantly. Strangely enough, the second he did, Micah wished he hadn’t. It had been wonderfully comforting.

He busied himself with the cheese board and the assortment of honeys, nuts and dried fruit brought along with it.

“So when did you come out in the end?” Angel asked after a moment of silence. “If I may ask.”

“College. Well, I didn’t actually come out, not officially. I just never hid it when I moved here. I told my family right after my high school graduation.”

“How did they take it?” Angel asked, focused on dripping honey over his Parmigiano.

“They were great. A bit surprised, but they accepted it right away. Only my sister was pissed that I hadn’t told her earlier. We’re as good as twins. She is less than a year older than me,” he explained with a smile, seeing Angel’s confused expression. “We usually share everything.”

“But not that. Why?”

“She has a big mouth. I mean, not like she’s a gossip, she just blurts things out, accidentally. She’s totally unable to lie or keep secrets. Like, pathologically honest. She got us in trouble loads of times because of that.” Micah laughed at an old memory. “There was that one time when we were kids—”

A childhood story poured out of him easily, fueled by alcohol and the sight of Angel’s curious face. Then, at Angel’s prompting, another, and another, a string of them—glimpses of happy, carefree times at the family’s cabin at the lake, of two kids running barefoot through the rain, making mischief all around and stealing fruit from the neighbors’ trees. Angel listened and laughed and cooed, asking questions and shaking his head in wonder, and by the time Micah stopped to catch his breath, the second carafe of wine was almost empty, the sky above dark. A scattering of white fairy lights, hidden in the ivy, gave the little courtyard yet another touch of magic. Micah felt warm and fuzzy, a little bit in love with this night. The wine, sipped slowly with the accompaniment of food, didn’t get him drunk, just made him happy.

“Oops. I monopolized the conversation,” he said, grinning. “Do you have siblings?”

“I do, but they’re much older than I am. We don’t have much of a connection, never had.” Angel paused, clearly unwilling to say anything more. “Would you like some dessert? Coffee?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly eat anything else and I’m wide awake, thanks. We should probably get going.”

Angel nodded and got up. “I’ll be right back.”

He went inside, and Micah leaned back in his chair, looking around at the flickering candles and chatting people who had been seated at the other tables. It was peaceful, intimate. He felt alive, happily contained in the moment, without thinking about the past or worrying about the future.

He was curious what else Angel might have planned for the evening, but he didn’t think too hard about it. He would know soon enough. Waiting, he drained the rest of his wine and munched on the almonds that remained from their cheese feast, first dipping them in the little bowl of honey.

“Ready to go?” Angel asked when he came back a few minutes later, and then he laughed. “Wait, you have—just let me.”

He stepped closer and before Micah could understand what was going on, he swiped his thumb across Micah’s lower lip—a quick, warm press, there and gone. Micah caught a whiff of soap before Angel retreated, and then his eyes bugged out when he saw Angel lick his thumb clean.

“What are you doing?”

“You had a smudge of honey there,” Angel said. Micah didn’t point out he was perfectly capable of licking it off himself. He was too busy reeling from the effect this sudden touch and lingering proximity had on him. Angel smiled innocently. “I already took care of the bill. We can go whenever you’re ready.”

“So I thought we could
either go dancing now, or take a walk, unless you have other suggestions,” Angel said as soon as they left the trattoria.

“A walk,” Micah replied instantly. “I’m not a huge fan of clubs. And it’s nice out.”

“Okay, Theodore Wirth Park then. Shall we?” Angel stepped toward the car and Micah frowned.

“Should you be driving, after all that wine?” He hadn’t thought about it earlier, but now he realized how much wine they had drunk. He was not getting into a car with someone under the influence. “Maybe we should take a cab.”

Angel’s smile was sweetly amused. “You didn’t notice, did you?” he asked. When Micah cocked an eyebrow at him, confused, Angel grinned. “I only had half a glass; I’ve been sipping it all night. I’m okay to drive, I promise; I wouldn’t try to get behind the wheel otherwise.”

“But—I did
not
drink both of those carafes by myself,” Micah said, indignant. Then he frowned. “Did I?”

“They were small carafes.” Angel winked and opened the passenger’s door for him.

The drive was just as pleasurable at night as it had been earlier—possibly more so, given how light and carefree Micah felt. The wind had settled and the evening air smelled green. When they parked the car by the park entrance and got out, Angel extended his hand, and to his own surprise, Micah took it.

It all felt a little surreal to Micah: the leisurely stroll through the well-lit park paths, Angel’s hand steady in his, the feeling that the world was as it should be: at peace. They kept talking, and for once Micah didn’t censor himself, didn’t try to establish the right thing to say or discover what his interlocutor wanted to see in him. He just was, acting and talking and reacting in the most natural way. That was a luxury he rarely allowed himself.

Sounds of music came through the trees as they walked, louder the closer they got to the source, and soon they reached a little concert area in the middle of the park. On the wooden stage, a band of three guys and a girl performed. They looked young, hardly out of their teens; about three dozen people had gathered, enjoying the performance. Some were even dancing in front of the stage.

Angel tugged at Micah’s hand and leaned closer.

“Do you want to stay and listen for a while?” he asked, his breath tickling Micah’s ear.

“Sure,” Micah replied. He loved live music—not just professional concerts, but street entertainers, too.

This band sounded fresh; there was passion and energy in their performance. Micah found himself tapping his foot to the rhythm. It felt thrilling to be here with someone else, someone who held his hand and swayed to the music, clearly enjoying himself, too, instead of looking bored and whining to move on.

After several songs Micah was about to suggest continuing their walk because he was getting a little chilly, when the male singer smiled at the audience.

“Thank you. And now something for those of you who still believe in fairy tales.”

The opening guitar notes sounded vaguely familiar, but it was only when the violin joined in a second later that Micah recognized the theme from Disney’s
Aladdin
. He grinned, fond memories rushing in. He used to love this song as a kid. Standing in the cool air a little longer was suddenly not a problem.

A hand touched Micah’s arm, feeling warm even through the cotton of his shirt.

“Will you dance with me?” Angel was beaming at him, his eyes like liquid gold in the glow of a nearby lamp.

Micah looked around, flustered. Here? Out in the park, in front of all these people? It should be safe, he knew. But for Micah, after what had happened in his hometown all those years ago, parks had always spelled
danger
. He’d never done anything as open as dancing with another man in such a public space—even handholding was a stretch. But the song was seducing his heart, and other couples were dancing, and what the hell. It was his night.

“Okay.”

Angel’s shoulders were broad and strong; his hands kept a warm, steady pressure on Micah’s back, holding him so close that he could feel the movement of Angel’s chest with every breath he took. They stayed near the edge of the impromptu dance floor, swaying with the music. Micah felt safely surrounded, contained—in the familiar song, in the arms that felt as if they were made to hold him, in the magic of this evening. He turned his head, just to glance at Angel’s face, and couldn’t turn away, mesmerized by the look in his eyes. They held the world within—the world of affection, of caring. Of desire. It made something stir in Micah’s belly, a long-banished want.

Angel’s eyes flickered down to Micah’s mouth, and then back up. He bit his plump lower lip.

Around them, people were dancing, music was enveloping them in its sweet enchantment, and night air cooled Micah’s cheeks. Inside, he had suddenly only one desire. And he could have it. He’d been told to take what he wanted tonight.

As if reading his mind, Angel slowly inclined his head, pausing when his lips were an inch away, and Micah closed the distance as if pulled by an invisible magnet. Angel’s arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer, and the thrilling, innocent touch of their lips became something deeper, hotter. Micah let out a strangled sound at the desperate want rushing through him, and that broke the spell. He pulled away, gasping.

They were in public, among dozens of people. In a park. At night. What was he thinking?

Micah looked around, his heart pounding. The song had ended; people stepped away from each other, clapping, with their attention focused on the stage. Only one girl was watching them, a pretty blonde who looked not a day older than sixteen, and she smiled sweetly when she saw him notice her. Hesitant, he smiled back, his anxiety fading. They were okay.

Still, they had been reckless. He turned to Angel. “Let’s walk some more.”

If Angel was surprised or disappointed, he didn’t show it. He simply took Micah’s hand and started navigating their way through the crowd.

“I love those outdoors concerts,” Angel said once the stage disappeared behind the trees. “I can’t wait for the summer and the Music in the Parks program.”

Micah nodded, unsure what to say. Just a minute ago, they were kissing. Part of him really,
really
wanted to return to kissing. The other part was quietly freaking out.

Angel continued, as if unaware of Micah’s sudden awkwardness. “I wanted to live that life once, you know. Be a performer.”

That got Micah’s attention. “Really?” A vision of Angel in leather, on a stage with a rock star image that involved sweat, messy hair and eyeliner popped into his mind—uninvited, but not unwelcome. “Do you sing?”

“I used to,” Angel chuckled. “I still do, sometimes. I played the guitar, too, but not very well. We had a band in my friend’s garage, back in high school; it was called
The Kraken Xplosion
, with a capital X.” He grinned at Micah’s incredulous face. “Don’t ask me, I don’t remember how we came up with that, but at the height of our career we had three fangirls.”

“So what happened to the band? Were you any good?”

“We were terrible,” Angel laughed. “Mostly because we tried to write our own music, and none of us had any songwriting talent. I found a recording of one of our rehearsals a few years ago and listened to it. Jesus.” He paused and shrugged. “Oh well, we were just a bunch of kids dreaming of the big world. Then I realized that the way out of my hometown was actually called college.”

“So what did you study?”

“Nothing too interesting. Nothing connected to music, either. Do
you
sing?”

“Everybody sings. Some people just do it badly. You wouldn’t want to hear me try.”

“Aw, now you’re making me want to ask you to sing to me.” Angel grinned. Micah was a little in love with his smile. “Okay, here we are. This is where I wanted to take you.”

Micah hadn’t realized they were heading to a specific place. He looked around, curious.

The pond was in front of them, its water black and placid in the darkness. A big round moon, only a few days from full, was reflected in the still water, and the air smelled of lilac.

“Wow,” Micah breathed out, awed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it? I wanted to show you, in case you’ve never been here at night. It’s more crowded during the day, of course, but still peaceful if you can find a good spot.”

“I’ve never been here before.” Micah said. “Thank you for showing me.”

Truth be told, Micah hadn’t been in a park for years, although the city was full of them. There were always more important, more productive things to do than just walk. Now, breathing the cold fresh air, he felt as though a part of him had missed nature more than he’d realized.

“I used to live nearby when I was in college,” Angel said. “It was my favorite place to study when it was nice out.”

“Great for dates, too, I’m sure,” Micah teased.

Angel gave him a lopsided grin. “Is it? I guess we’ll have to see.”

Still holding Micah’s hand in one of his, Angel used the other to cup his face and slowly, deliberately stepped closer to kiss him.

This kiss was purposeful and deep; Angel’s lips moved expertly against his. There was no hurry in the confident exploration of his tongue, and Micah found himself responding with enthusiasm he thought he’d lost forever.

He was breathless and his lips tingled when Angel finally pulled back, his eyes sparkling in the yellow light of the lamp.

“Hmm, I’d say it’s an excellent place for dates indeed,” Angel said. “What do you think?”

A burst of loud laughter came from a nearby pathway, followed by a chatter of young, male voices. Micah tensed, stepping away from Angel and letting go of his hand as fear shot through him.

“I’m not sure we should be doing this here.”

“Hey, you’re safe with me,” Angel said. “I promise.”

He held out his hand again and after barely a moment of hesitation, Micah took it, slowly relaxing. Something in Angel’s demeanor made him feel secure. They started walking down the path along the pond.

The wind had picked up again, much chillier now, and after a few minutes Micah found himself shivering. Since it had been warm all day, and he hadn’t expected to be out this long, he’d recklessly decided he didn’t need a jacket. Now he was paying the price. Still, he didn’t want this evening to end.

“Are you cold?” Angel was already slipping off his jacket. “Here.” He held it for Micah.

“I can’t take it. You’ll freeze,” Micah protested. If he locked his muscles, the trembling wouldn’t be too noticeable.

Angel grinned. He didn’t look uncomfortable despite standing there in a short-sleeved navy shirt. “I’ll be fine. I don’t get cold easily. Seriously, this is balmy.”

“Then why did you wear it at all?” Micah mused as he gave in and slipped his arms into the sleeves of the jacket. It hung a little loose, but the fabric was still warm from Angel’s skin.

“Pockets.” Angel shrugged.

Now that Micah was no longer cold, the walk regained its pleasant quality, improved further by the excellent view of Angel’s beautifully toned arms. They walked in contented silence for a while. Angel’s thumb traced idle lines over the sensitive skin of Micah’s wrist, which seemed to make Micah’s whole hand buzz with pleasure. Then, as they reached a park bench in a dark spot under a broken lamp, Angel pulled on Micah’s hand and sat down, then leaned back to look at the sky.

“I love stargazing,” he said. “Back in my hometown, on summer nights, I used to stay in the garden for hours, looking up at the sky and dreaming. When I was older, I would sometimes drive out into the fields and lie on the hood of my Jeep until sunrise. I could name all the constellations.” He paused and sighed. “It’s hard to see properly in the city.”

Micah sat down next to him. “I used to do that too,” he admitted.

“The Jeep in the field part?” Angel grinned.

Micah laughed. “No, staying outside stargazing. Every summer in Grand Marais, my sister and I would sneak out at night onto the open deck with our sleeping bags. Our parents found us sleeping there so many times they finally put a couple of cots there.” He smiled at the memory. “I loved it, falling asleep to the sounds of frogs and cicadas and the lapping of water, with the smell of pines and the lake, and the starry sky above us.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“Now I do, thanks.” He pretended to frown at Angel. “I still go there sometimes, if I manage to find the time in the summer. But usually I don’t think about it, you know? Like you said, the city is not the best place to stargaze.”

“Tonight’s not bad,” Angel said, and then sat straighter and wound his arm around Micah’s shoulders. “Come here.”

Micah frowned, confused. “Where?” Angel gently tugged him closer and tapped his own thigh with his free hand. Micah’s eyes widened. “You want me to what, get in your lap? In public? I don’t think—”

Angel laughed. “No, silly. Lie down. You’ll be able to see the sky better.”

“Oh.”

Micah felt blood rush to his cheeks. He fumbled to slide down on the bench until his head was pillowed on Angel’s thigh. As soon as he was settled, Angel put his hand on Micah’s chest and let it rest there, a warm comforting weight over his heart.

The sky was breathtaking, the moon hanging white and heavy overhead, and the scattering of stars, though not as bright, looked just as mesmerizing as on those summer nights, years ago. Except Micah wasn’t alone now, lying on the deck next to sleeping Claudia, dreaming of the future when he could experience it with somebody else—with a boy, someone dear to his heart.

Now, he was here—free to be himself, out in the open, enjoying this moment with another man. And even though he wasn’t a boyfriend, and they weren’t curled up together under one blanket, whispering plans and confessions, it didn’t matter. Angel’s warmth, the subtle scent of cologne and detergent coming from his shirt and his fingers playing with Micah’s hair were enough, tonight.

The movement of Angel’s fingers was hypnotic: feather-light touches to his forehead, his cheekbones, following the outline of his lips. It was teasing and electrifying, and arousal grew like an ever-louder hum through Micah’s body until he couldn’t focus on anything else.