Something Like Winter (47 page)

“
That wasn’t fun at all,”
Ryan complained.

“
It’s work. It’s not
supposed to be fun.” Tim remembered the experience all too well.
“When do you have to go back?”

“
I don’t. I
quit.”

This led to another
argument, but by the end of it, Tim agreed to pay Ryan’s tuition as
long as he promised to attend classes. Even when the school year
started, Ryan still went out and partied most nights. Every time he
came home, he lashed out like Tim had done something
wrong.

“
Some like their freedom,”
Marcello advised when Tim stopped by. “Others hold it against you.
It sounds to me like you either need to live his lifestyle or cut
him loose. I speak from experience when I say you should cut your
losses now.”

But Tim didn’t agree. He
had just turned twenty-five, not fifty, so the next time Ryan
planned to go out, Tim invited himself along. And Marcello was
right. Suddenly those angel eyes were shining again. They hit the
clubs together and danced, Stephen’s crew unsure at first, but when
they offered Tim a pill to “enhance his fun,” he took one look at
Ryan and his encouraging nod and swallowed the pill down with a
swig of beer.

When they got home that
night, Tim’s head spinning in a million different directions, there
were no cruel barbs, no taunts. There was only Ryan, pulling him
into the bedroom with a smile so they could play his favorite
game.

* * * * *

Hell came every morning.
No, not morning. Time had gone topsy-turvy nearly a year ago. Dawn
was for going to sleep, the afternoon for waking up. Regardless of
the hour, every time Tim woke, he felt like hell. Usually hangovers
were to blame. Those could be chased away by a nice greasy meal.
Other times Tim was strung out, which was particularly bad, because
the only cure was to tough it out or try to figure out what they
had been taking so he could get more.

In those hours when he was
sober, he was always tired. Ryan seemed immune to all of this,
always ready for the next adventure. The nights when Tim couldn’t
find the energy, Ryan left him at home, heading out with Stephen to
find the next big party. When they couldn’t find it, they would
make one, returning to Tim’s house with a convoy of vapid youth in
tow.

And although all of this
was taking its toll on Tim, he could deal with it. Partying and
college went hand in hand, so Ryan’s desire to indulge in the
experience was understandable. Except Ryan was no longer going to
class. Tim kept pushing him to return and get caught up, but
sleeping the day away made this impossible. Once Tim had stayed
home, abstaining from partying for an entire week and remaining
clean to set a good example, but this had accomplished nothing.
Ryan still went out and Tim had barely seen him.

The partying was nothing
compared to the petty theft. All Ryan had to do was ask, and yet
Tim’s credit cards went missing once, Ryan turning up with shopping
bags, saying Stephen had bought him an early birthday present. A
call to the credit card company revealed the truth. Tim felt more
confused than angry. So often it seemed Ryan was punishing him
without explaining why. Those moments when Ryan rewarded him with
sweetness were becoming rarer and rarer. Tim was already thinking
of calling it quits when Marcello came to visit.

“
You look tired,” Marcello
said, settling on to the couch. For once he declined his
traditional glass of champagne.

“
Thank you.” Tim stood over
him, arms crossed over his chest. “Is that what you came to tell
me?”

“
Sit down.” Marcello looked
away until Tim was seated across from him. “I recently had a
disturbing conversation with one of my escorts, Stephen. I believe
you know him?”

“
Ryan said he was a
model.”

Marcello harrumphed.
“Stephen
did
model
for me once, but they weren’t the sort of photographs advertisers
are interested in. No, Stephen has worked for my escort service for
a few years now. In fact, he recently recommended Ryan do the
same.”

Tim gritted his teeth. “Not
a chance!”

“
Of course not. I don’t
mean to pry, but do you and Ryan have an open
relationship?”

Tim didn’t like where this
was going. “No. We’re monogamous.”

“
I see.” Marcello was
pensive. “I think it’s best we verify something. Stephen
recommended Ryan as an escort because of how he behaves in bed. We
have clients who ask for—”

“
What did he say?” Tim
interrupted.

“
That Ryan likes it
rough.
Very
rough.
He claimed to be speaking from personal experience.”

Tim leapt to his feet with
a growl. “You need to leave!”

“
Please don’t be angry with
me,” Marcello said, placing a hand on his chest.

“
I’m not! I’m going
upstairs to deal with the little shit. Thank you for telling me.
You can leave now.”

“
Let him go,” Marcello said
as he got to his feet. “No amount of yelling is going to change who
he is. Cheaters cheat, liars lie. But there’s something
else.”

Tim, already on his way out
the room, spun around. “What?”

“
The reason I was talking
to Stephen in the first place is because of a complaint from a
client. He said Stephen offered unprotected sex for extra
money.”

“
So?”

“
So, have you been safe
with Ryan?”

“
Yes.” Mostly. Of course a
few of those nights were blurry, but after being with someone for a
year, he shouldn’t have to worry about being safe. Or so he
thought.

“
There’s no harm in getting
tested, Tim.”

“
Fine.”

“
I’m sorry.”

Tim sighed. “I know you
are. Thanks, Marcello. Now get out while I’m still angry enough to
do what I have to do.”

Tim kept his cool as he
walked Marcello to the door, but by the time he headed up the
stairs, he was shaking with fury. After all he had done for Ryan,
everything he had put up with, the bastard had the nerve to screw
around on him.

Tim barged into the
bedroom, Ryan muttering a complaint and pulling a pillow over his
head. That was fine. Tim went to the walk-in closet, grabbed
luggage from the back, and began filling it with Ryan’s clothes.
When he returned to the bedroom, he tossed the luggage on the bed
and went to the drawers.

Now Ryan woke up. “What are
you doing?”

“
Throwing your ass
out!”

“
What? Why?”

“
Because of
Stephen!”

The daintiest of pauses
preceded Ryan’s response. Tim never would have caught it had
Marcello not tipped him off. “What about Stephen?”

Tim spun around. Ryan’s
hair was sticking up, and even after all the partying they had done
over the last year, he still looked good. Tim glared at him, his
accusations silent until Ryan rolled his eyes.

“
It was an accident. We
were high and drunk, and it just sort of happened.”

“
He looks just like you,”
Tim spat. “You might as well have fucked a hole in a
mirror.”

“
Yeah, I’ll give that a try
next time,” Ryan shot back.

“
Were you safe?”

Ryan climbed out of bed.
“Just shut up and let me get a coffee, okay?”

“
Were. You.
Safe?”

“
I don’t know!”

Tim shook his head in
disgust and turned to grab more socks and underwear from the
drawer. “Better figure out where you’re sleeping tonight because
you aren’t staying here.”

“
I don’t have anywhere to
go!”

“
You should have thought of
that before you let Stephen fuck you. I can’t believe you weren’t
safe! Do you know what he does for a living?”

Tim felt a hand on his
shoulder and went tense. When he turned around, Ryan’s face was
soft instead of defensive. His angel eyes could be deceptive, but
Tim was sure he saw regret in them.

“
I messed up,” Ryan said.
“This is why I like you to go out with me because I know you’ll
stop me from being stupid.”

Tim huffed. “But you go out
anyway, even if I’m not there.”

“
I’m still young, okay? I
can’t be all grown up like you.”

But Tim had been anything
but grown up. He hadn’t done a damn thing since finishing college.
“Things have to change,” he said. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s
not working.”

“
It can still work,” Ryan
said. “Don’t turn your back on me like my parents did. You know
that will kill me!”

Fuck him for playing that
card. Tim knew Ryan didn’t deserve his sympathy, and yet it was the
most effective thing he could have said. Tim moved around him,
dropping the socks and underwear into the suitcase.

“
One more chance,” Ryan
pleaded.

Tim shook his head, but
then sighed in resignation. “Prove that you’re willing to change.
Stop hanging out with Stephen and go back to school. We’ll take a
break, okay? If you love me, get your shit together and then come
back. Otherwise I don’t want to ever see you again.” Tim slammed
the suitcase shut. “Are you going to take a shower before you
go?”

“
Maybe a bath,” Ryan said.
“Are there any razors in there?”

Tim’s blood went cold.
“Don’t talk like that.”

“
Why not? What have I got
to live for?”

“
It’s just a fucking break,
Ryan! Stop bitching and prove that you care, okay?”

Ryan didn’t answer. He
didn’t speak in the car either, except to tell Tim where to bring
him. Their destination was an old apartment building on the other
side of town. He prayed it didn’t belong to Stephen, but didn’t
ask.

Tim said goodbye, his words
gentle, but Ryan slammed the car door anyway. Instead of letting it
get to him, Tim drove downtown to a clinic that provided anonymous
testing, rolled up his sleeve, and watched his blood spill into a
vial.

Chapter Thirty

The house was eerily silent
that night, the bed feeling too large and empty, but somehow Tim
found sleep. In his dreams he stood in a high school gymnasium,
facing a stage cast in shadow except for a spotlight. In the light
stood Ben, older than Tim had ever seen him but still every bit as
handsome. And then came that voice. Once it had sent him away but
now it was calling him home again. His penance was done, the wait
was over.

Come home.

Tim awoke, body tense with
adrenaline like waking from a nightmare, but he didn’t feel afraid.
Instead he felt a longing that made his heart ache. Chinchilla
grumbled in puzzlement when he got out of bed, following him into
the bathroom where he grabbed his robe. It hung next to Ryan’s,
which gave him pause, but that song still filled his head, so he
went to the office and turned on the computer.

Google don’t fail me
now!

Tim had looked Ben up
before, hoping to glean some insight into his life, but never found
much. He had no reason to believe this time would be any different.
But it was. Clicking a link to a potential lead, he poured over the
website’s text like it might vanish at any moment.

Con Man’s Heart – A
musical drama of heartbreak and deceit. Austin’s Twilight Theater
proudly presents an original Brian Milton production, set in
colonial times and told in the traditional style of—

Tim scanned through the
play’s description, trying to find what the search result had to do
with Ben. And there it was, that wonderfully familiar name, and in
full!

Staring the musical
talents of Linda Anderson as the Duchess of Derby and Benjamin
Bentley as silver-tongued Bo Williams.

Theater? Scratch that.
Dinner theater! Tim grinned at the screen as he learned everything
he could about the theater and the play. The website even had cast
photos, little headshots that were frustratingly small. He could
see Ben’s familiar features, but the resolution was too low to tell
how much he had changed. Of course Tim could always go and see for
himself. The play was running for the next three weeks. He
practically did cartwheels out of the office to get his credit
card.

When he was about to click
“submit” to complete his order, he hesitated. Was this the right
thing to do? What if Ben noticed him, and the play came grinding to
a halt? Tim chuckled at the idea and clicked the mouse with
glee.

Ben’s face and that
wonderful singing voice… If neither could be his, Tim could at
least bask in their presence again.

* * * * *

The theater interior was
tastefully decorated and well maintained, having been rescued by
the local historical society some years back. This meant the stage
area was grand, framed by tall pillars that ran all the way to the
second story balconies. Tim felt a strong sense of relief at this,
not wanting Ben to be working on a trashy stage with an audience
more interested in the cheap buffet. In fact, no buffet was
offered. Instead the theater functioned as a restaurant, waiters
taking orders from each table, but Tim stayed in the lobby, nursing
a beer at the bar until he heard the play begin. Only then did he
make his way to his seat in the dark, taking a fresh beer with
him.