“I knew I liked him.”
“He’s an acquired taste,” I said dryly. “But that’s him, not me. I hold back. I’m at the point in my life where I’m not looking to be in a different bed every night with a different face staring at me across the pillow. That might’ve been fun in college and in our twenties, but at some point it has to be tiring to keep up the farce.”
“Farce? What farce?” His brow puckered, uncertainty clouding his eyes.
“Happiness. People who are happy don’t jump from person to person. Settling down with one person doesn’t mean settling, you know.” This conversation was going nowhere. We were spinning in circles and would continue until Nate decided to either talk to me or I’d leave. But it wasn’t fair of me to force him to come to a decision. I put my hand over his. “It’s okay. I don’t want to push you before you’re ready. Let’s go downstairs so I can try and salvage what’s left of the breakfast I made.” I swung my legs off the bed.
Nate remained seated, his brows knitted together. “It’s not a pretty story,” Nate said, his lips thin and white. “But if you’re still willing to listen, I’d like to tell you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Where to begin? Nerves plucked at me like an overtightened guitar string, and I couldn’t sit still. I could lie…no, not really lie, but fudge the truth. Press wouldn’t know the difference, and maybe it would satisfy him enough for the rest of the day. I readied myself with a story, but then gazed at him waiting for me to unburden myself.
God, I couldn’t do it. He’d been so open and honest with me about things, even though in his own sweet way he had that fiery stubborn streak that was a definite turn-on. Heshouldknow. We were more than bed partners, and surprisingly, I wanted to tell him. I hoped he would understand.
I swallowed, and with uncharacteristic hesitancy, I began to pace the room.
“From the time I was a kid, younger than ten, I knew I was different. I liked boys, and from hearing everyone else talking around me, that wasn’t the norm. My brother, Ethan, smart, brilliant, and straight, was out of the house once he started college, and he decided to get married before going to law school. Even though we weren’t as close as we are now, I loved him and came out to him before anyone else.”
“How was he about it? Did he stand by you?”
“Yeah. Totally. Always. My mother too.”
“But,” Press said wisely, “not your father, I gather?”
“I didn’t tell him right away. And when I finally did, our relationship changed. Oh, it was subtle, but I noticed.” I joined Press on the bed, needing to sit so my shaking legs wouldn’t give me away. “See, my father only valued work ethic. While Ethan was growing up, my father wasn’t home much, as he and his partners were building the firm to go international. Then Ethan left. I idolized my father. I wanted to be him. And my father soaked up that hero worship and bragged to everyone that he was molding me in his image.”
“Except that image didn’t count on you being gay.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my face, as much to gather my thoughts as anything else. “When I told him, he only cared what everyone else would think. He didn’t talk to me about how I felt, or what I went through up to that point. He was concerned about what people would say when I didn’t want to date their daughters.”
“And wanted to date their sons instead.”
I allowed myself a grin. “My exact words.” My smile dimmed. “He, however, didn’t see the humor. In fact, after that day, he never mentioned it again. It’s like he denied the biggest, most important part of me. Who I am.”
“I’m sorry.” Press hugged me, his arms tight around me, and I buried my face in his silky hair, smelling my shampoo and soap on him. “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you. At least you had Ethan and your mom.”
Here came the hard part. “Until she got sick. Then I was there in the house, helping her through her treatments. I thought my father was too, but at night he ghosted us.”
Press’s brow puckered. “What do you mean?”
“He’d stay until she settled in for the night, and then he’d leave. I assumed to his office to bury himself in his work.”
“But?” Press rubbed my back, and I leaned into his touch. I hadn’t felt warm for a very long time. “What happened?”
“He wasn’t going to his office.” My throat hurt, and my voice sounded high and scratchy. “He wasn’t working at all.”
“No?” He put his hand on my arm. “I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.”
I cupped his face between my hands. “You’re so sweet.”
“You might’ve said that several times.” His crooked grin was an accelerant, lighting a line of fire through my body, spreading warmth along the way.
“You make me feel safe. Maybe that’s why I can sleep when you’re with me.”
He brushed his lips to mine. “Happy to be of service. But you were saying…about your father?”
My hands dropped from holding him, and the glow faded, replaced by the familiar numbness. “Oh, yeah. He was going to his girlfriend.”
