Megan Hart: An Erotic Collection Volume 1 Read online

  “And he got mad. You fought. I know.”

  A small smile that had little to do with humor curved his lips. “I don’t think so. When you told me he’d told you the story, I thought you got it. You understood. But I don’t think you did.”

  “So, tell me.”

  “We got shit-faced, and I got what I wanted. He asked me not to go. He got mad, yeah. He wanted to know how I could take it up the ass for somebody else, how I could fuck just...some guy. That’s what he said. How could I fuck some guy. How could I kiss some guy. And he tried to kiss me.”

  She studied his face, looking again so deep he knew there was no way she couldn’t understand him. “He didn’t tell me that.”

  Alex laughed. “Jamie couldn’t hold his liquor. He tried. I didn’t let him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” Alex said. “Jamie’s not...that’s not him.”

  “Obviously it is.”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. He’s not going to suddenly come out of the closet. He’s not queer, Anne. And I loved him, yeah, but not...not in a way that would end up being very good. For either one of us. I’m a fuckup. I can’t make things work. And I didn’t want us to screw trashed out of our heads and lose everything we had.”

  “And the fight?”

  “Oh, we had it. He punched me in the face and called me a fucking fairy faggot queer. We both hit the coffee table, and he got tore up. I took him to the E.R. The rest is the same.”

  “And you left for Singapore.”

  “I went back to the Kinneys once before I left,” he said. “I wanted to find out how he was. Mrs. Kinney told me I wasn’t worth the dirt under Jamie’s shoes and that I should consider myself never welcome in their house again. I’d known she didn’t like me, but I’d never realized until then that she hated me. I don’t know what he told her, but it was enough to make her crazy.”

  She smoothed his hair off his face. “Alex. I’m so sorry.”

  “I wanted to come to your wedding. I could have. I could’ve taken the time, no problem. But when it came right down to it, I didn’t think I could see him again for the first time in so long walking down the aisle. So I waited, sent a gift.”

  “It was very nice. We still have it.” She smiled.

  He smiled, too. “I sent him a card. We kept in touch. I ended up here. And once again, I’ve fucked it all up.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  He reached to put his hand on the back of her neck, to pull her just a bit closer. Their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes, waiting for a kiss that didn’t come.

  “I didn’t count on you.”

  A small, hitching sob leaked out of her. “I thought you—”

  “Shh.” He put his arms around her, no longer wanting to hurt her even if it was better in the long run.

  “What are we going to do?” Anne whispered.

  “Nothing.”

  “We have to do something.” She pulled away to look at him, to cup his cheek. “This is something.”

  He pulled away. “What you and Jamie have is something. This is just...nothing, remember? A little summer fling. I’ll leave. You’ll forget it ever happened.”

  “No. I won’t. He won’t, either.”

  Alex tried a smile. “You’d be surprised what Jamie can forget when he wants to.”

  “I won’t forget,” Anne said fiercely, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I won’t ever forget.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Yes, you will.”

  “Will you?”

  It was all too much. There was too much there between them, layers he hadn’t expected. Like the surface of the lake, clear to a point and murky below it, and he was treading water without knowing what lay beneath. He was a disaster, a mess, and he could not let her choose him. He had to walk away.

  He kissed her forehead again, softer this time. “Anne, I already have.”

  Then he got up and left her alone.

  * * *

  John Kennedy pushed the coffeepot across the diner table toward his son. “Drink up. It’s on me.”

  “I can pay for it, Dad.” Alex filled his mug with the black, bitter coffee and added sugar and cream.

  His dad snorted. “You drink your coffee like a pussy.”

  Alex didn’t let that get a rise out of him. Compared to some of the things his dad had said in the past, this was the equivalent of a hug. They drank their coffee in silence broken by the clatter of forks on plates and low conversation.

  “You got another one of those?” His dad gestured at the pack of Marlboros in Alex’s breast pocket. “Your mother got me quitting all kinds of shit.”

  Alex gave his dad the pack. “You can have it.”

  His dad quirked a thick, gray eyebrow. Alex swore to himself if his hair ever started to grow as wild and ungroomed as his dad’s, he’d shave himself bald. His dad sucked in a long, grateful drag before he started coughing and pounded out the cigarette.

  “Fucking things,” John said morosely. “They’re killers.”

  His dad sat back in the booth and stared at him while Alex stared back. It had been a long time. He’d spoken to his parents on the phone and kept in touch with his younger sisters, but that wasn’t the same.

  “Listen,” his dad said suddenly, as though he couldn’t bear the silence. “I wanted to say...I’m sorry.”

  Alex tensed his jaw on the words threatening to spill out. Instead he said lightly, “For what?”

  “For being a fucking drunken asshole to you,” his dad said so sincerely there was no question he meant every word. “I’ve been sober, God willing I should keep it up, for five years.”

  Alex blinked, years of built-up anger trying to surface and sloughing away at this unpretentious and simple honesty. “Dad—”

  His dad held up his hand. “No. No, listen to me, boy. I know I’ve been an awful fucking father to you and your sisters, and a shitty fucking husband to your mother. But, God willing, I’ve changed. And I’m trying to make amends. So I’m fucking glad you came back here, son, so I can tell you this. That’s all.”

  His dad nodded, that gesture familiar in the way the apology was foreign. Alex didn’t point out that although he hadn’t kept in touch with his family, he’d always made sure they got their monthly checks. They always knew where he could be found. If his dad had really wanted to make amends he might’ve done it long ago.

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  “How about you?” His dad said, almost as an afterthought. “You good?”

  “Um...yeah. Sure. I’m good.” He’d told his dad about selling Transcom but not about much else. They walked to the cashier and though his dad had said he was going to pay, Alex pulled out his wallet and paid the tab.

  “Got a special lady in your life?” In the parking lot, his dad nudged him with a grin showing teeth that had had a lot of work done.

  Alex looked up into late-summer sunshine, squinting against the glare. A breeze made the day less of a scorcher than it might have been, otherwise, but sweat trickled down his back anyway. He looked at his dad, who’d always seemed so big but had shrunk.

  “No, Dad. No special lady.”

  “Don’t wait forever,” his dad said with another nudge. “Your pecker’ll fall off. Well, maybe you’ll stop over to the house before you head out of town. I’m sure your mother would be glad to see you.”

  “I will,” Alex promised.

  He stood in the parking lot for a long time after his dad drove away. There should have been more to it than that. A tearful embrace would have been too much to ask for, but maybe a handshake or something honest.

  Not everything changes.

  * * *

  “Man, of all the places you could stay, why are you holed up here?” Jamie looked around the room, which had been remodeled but would always be small. “Fucking Breakers hotel? C’mon.”

  The Hotel Breakers was Cedar Point’s oldest property, right on Lake Erie. Alex used to unclog its toilets and