“It doesn’t matter what I called him.” His voice was quiet.
Donny realized there had to be a history here. Not to say that he’d believed Roland hadn’t ever had serious partners before— he was thirty-one, compared to Donny’s almost twenty-two—but Donny was getting the impression there had been damage done at some point. What he couldn’t get a read on was whether Roland had been the one damaged or the one doing the damaging. With what Donny knew of him, it could go either way with ease.
“Tell me his name.”
Roland’s eyes flicked up to lock onto Donny, and his face was still contorted in the same manner as when Donny had started the conversation. He was obviously uncomfortable, and Donny still felt sick.
“What does it matter?” Roland bit out.
Donny rolled his eyes. “If you won’t tell me whether you called him your boyfriend or not, you can at least give me a name.”
“Cody,” Roland’s voice managed to crack pushing out the two-syllable, four letter name.
“What happened with Cody?” Donny pressed.
Roland glared at him.
“Tell me what you called him, or tell me what happened. I don’t think I’m asking a lot from you right now.” Donny was trying hard to keep his own insecurities in check, but felt his control slipping away.
“He left me,” Roland said, opting to give up that piece of information more easily than whether he’d called him his boyfriend or not. Donny didn’t understand why the term was such a sticking point for Roland, nor was he familiar with this sliver of Roland who was so impacted by this Cody person.
“I’m sorry,” Donny offered, reaching a hand across the couch toward Roland.
Roland looked at Donny’s hand, then took a drink and set the glass on the table. He reached toward Donny and grabbed his fingers, swiping his thumb across his knuckles before dropping it back down to the couch.
“He deserved better than me,” Roland cocked his lip up into a patronizing smile.
“You sell yourself short.”
Roland snorted incredulously and barked out a laugh, “Okay.”
Donny sighed. “I wasn’t trying to do this with you.” He thought about his next words and weighed them before he spoke, “I just want to know if this thing between us feels as serious to you as it does to me. I just want to know if I could introduce you as my fucking boyfriend at my birthday party.”
There was a knock at the door, and Donny startled before he quickly pushed up from the couch and retreated out of the room to collect the delivery. He took the bag of food into the kitchen and set it on the counter, pulling the containers out and getting plates from the cabinet.
Exasperated by the turn of the conversation, he ran his hands through his hair then dropped them against the sink. He leaned over, bracing himself and forced deep breaths in and out. He tried to will himself to relax, but found he lacked the metal acuity to rein his emotions back under control. Donny had displayed what he considered to be valiant restraint in the living room with Roland. He didn’t want to push or pry, but he refused to operate in a nameless holding pattern. Donny had been patient. Donny would continue to be patient, but he neededsomethingfrom Roland to let him know he wasn’t alone in this.
Roland walked into the kitchen and stood close to Donny, his hip propped against the refrigerator and his arms crossed over his chest. Donny turned his head sideways to look at Roland whose face was now marked with a level of concern that hadn’t been there before.
“I’m sorry,” Roland said softly. “Cody was my boyfriend, and I loved him very much. But he deserved better than me, and he left me. And you deserve better than me, and I don’t want you to leave me too. I think maybe if you weren’t my boyfriend, it wouldn’t hurt as much when you did leave me. Because you will.”
“You can’t possibly know that.” Donny stood up straighter and turned to face Roland.
“I have a track record.”
“Not with me.” He tried to give Roland a sympathetic smile, but didn’t lose sight of the fact he still didn’t have an answer to his question.
“It’s a defense mechanism.”
“I know,” Donny acknowledged. And he did know. He understood. “Come on, let’s eat.” Donny plated their food and carried it into the living room. He set the plates on the coffee table and slid down with his back against the couch and waited for Roland to join him. They sat on the floor next to each other and ate, just as they had many nights before, but there was a heaviness between them now only Roland could eradicate.
When they were done and after Roland had finished another two glasses of vodka, Donny was debating whether he should go home or stay.
“I guess I’ll take off.” He settled on leaving and pushed back from the table to stand and collect his things.
“You’re leaving?” Roland seemed genuinely surprised.
Donny shrugged. “I don’t feel like you really want me here right now to be honest.”
