“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
He tugged Mitch from the kitchen and flicked the light switch on his way past, plunging the room into darkness. Their boots echoed on the floorboards as they made their wayup the hall, relying on the small amount of moonlight that outlined the bedroom door. Once inside, Finn turned on the lamp, bathing the bed in a warm golden light. The bed looked so appealing that he wanted nothing better than to climb between the sheets, and knowing Mitch would be beside him all night reassured him he’d sleep easy. With a smile, Finn emptied his pockets and finally turned to faceMitch, who stood just inside the bedroom doorway. He was looking at Finn as if he was waiting for something.
“Mitch?”
“Sorry.” Mitch’s deep voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Do? Do what?”
“I need a cigarette.”
Mitch turned on his heel and left Finn standing there, wondering what on earth was going on. His earlier happiness fled in a heartbeat. He stood frozenfor a second before hotfooting it down the hall and finally catching up with Mitch as he exited the back door. The sound of the screen door slamming was loud in the quiet of the evening.
Finn pushed through the door, slightly pissed off that Mitch had left him without explanation. Mitch was leaning against the patio balustrade, the flare from his Zippo lighting up his face for a moment beforeit plunged back into darkness. But even in that brief moment, the grief was plain to see—the tremble in his hands where he cupped the flame, the tremor of the cigarette that hung from his lips, and the shine to his eyes.
As Finn neared, it was clear Mitch was close to tears and straining to maintain control. Although it had been a day from hell, Finn was surprised because Mitch was usually socalm and collected. He remained rigid when Finn wrapped him in his hold again, making no effort to return the hug, only turning his head to blow a stream of smoke toward the garden. Finn held tight, running his palms along Mitch’s back. Eventually the muscles under Finn’s fingers began to loosen, some of the tension evaporating with each drag of the cigarette. By the time it had burned down to thefilter, Mitch was breathing normally and had placed a hand on Finn’s hip to hold him close.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need,” Finn whispered. Somewhat reluctantly he moved back and gave Mitch some space. Mitch ground the butt with the heel of his boot, and when he made a move to bend and retrieve it, Finn stopped him with a hand. “Leave it. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
They stood shoulderto shoulder, leaning on the railing and staring across the backyard into the bush beyond. The full moon gave the whole area a ghostly appearance, casting long shadows across the lawn. The croaking from frogs was a constant chorus, punctuated occasionally by the call from a tawny frogmouth—the ordinary night sounds in the area. Where the noise of the frogs usually annoyed Finn, who had become moreused to the constant buzz of traffic in Melbourne, tonight the regularity was reassuring. Or maybe the reassurance came from the warmth generated by Mitch’s arm pressed against his own.
“We were close. Pete and me.” Mitch’s voice broke the silence between the two of them.
“Yeah?” Finn responded but kept his gaze on the garden, not on the man he hoped would open up to him. Mitch would speak inhis own time. A minute ticked by.
Mitch cleared his throat. “We were together for a while.”
There was the usual flare of jealousy at the thought of Mitch with another man, but Finn knew it was ridiculous. He had no control over Mitch’s past and didn’t even harbor any real hope he had rights to Mitch in the future. However, at the same time, it meant so much that Mitch was sharing this pieceof his life with him.
“I figured as much.” Finn kept his voice low.
“You did?”
“A couple of times…. I don’t know, a couple of things that were said, the looks that passed between the two of you, I guess. I don’t think anyone else would pick up on it, but knowing what I know about you both, it isn’t a real surprise.”
“What do you mean? Knowing what?” Mitch turned to face him.
Finn thoughtfor a moment, unsure how to proceed. How much of Pete’s story was his to tell? But it sounded like Mitch knew a lot of it already. “When we met in Melbourne, Pete and I became friends. Well, not exactly friends, at first, but we started to get close. We had a number of things in common, and staying under the same roof for a couple of weeks forced us to talk. We discovered we had some similarities.Come on. Let’s sit down, and I’ll tell you about it.”
Finn took Mitch’s hand and led him into the living room. They sunk onto the shitty couch, Finn holding tight to Mitch’s hand, needing to keep the connection. Mitch’s hands were warm, and Finn toyed with his strong fingers as he began his tale. He gave Mitch the key highlights of his time with Pete in Melbourne, mainly the revelation they wereboth gay.
“So you were never together?” Mitch asked.
Was he jealous? Jealous of the idea that Finn and Pete had been more than friends, and if so, who was he jealous of?Me or Pete?
Finn shook his head. “No. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. Just friends. Although we have grown closer since then. I think it’s because he’s the only one who knows how I feel about Rocky.”
Mitch gave awry smile. “Not anymore.”
“No, I guess not.” Finn squeezed Mitch’s hand. “I know Pete has his issues, but his heart’s in the right place. He’s trying to make amends for what he’s done wrong.”
The sadness in Mitch’s eyes was evident. “I know.”
Finn couldn’t help himself—he had to ask the question. As much as it would hurt, he had to know the answer. “Do you have regrets? Do you want to get backtogether with him?”
“What? No.” Mitch let go of his hand and sat up straight. His words were what Finn wanted to hear, but Mitch’s reaction wasn’t. He was pulling away, his body language closed off. Finn reached for him again, Mitch’s arm tense under Finn’s hand.
