IN MEMPHIS, Christmas didn’t usually come with snow. Ice? Maybe. Usually. But beautiful sheets of white with dusted shrubs and snowmen? Well, that rarely happened. As always, the sun rose in its full glory, shining brilliant gold light over all of creation. Silas could’ve written a sonnet of its splendor. If such nonsense was his thing.
Because the outside world had screamed to him, and the inside world had become so smothering, Silas decided to get out of the house. The idea of watching people pass by from the patio of his favorite Starbucks made him all warm and fuzzy, made him feel like smiling for the first time in a while.
Actually, the warm and fuzzy was more thanks to the idea of getting away from Scott for a few hours. Not that he didn’t enjoy having Scott in his life, but having the man underneath him all day, every day, had become more burden than pleasure. Scott simply didn’t understand that Silas enjoyed his solitude from time to time. Silas needed the quiet and the distance from human beings to keep his creative juices flowing. He needed darkness and loneliness to set the mood for his books. Being drowned in gifts and servitude and sex didn’t work. His villains lacked the edge and the insanity he’d been so great at portraying through written word. His victims didn’t come off as the poor tortured souls they were meant to be. And his heroes became lame, flat, and not so… heroic. God, even his vocabulary gravely suffered these days.
He stepped up to the counter, and the cute little ginger woman with rosy cheeks and an eager smile greeted him with zeal. As stupid as it sounded, he was ecstatic to meet her, to give her his order and hand over his money to her. He had a good feeling about her, and thus, expected an amazing cup of coffee to follow.
At the opposite end of the counter, Silas waited like a good little boy, with patience and smiles, as the professionals on the other side crafted him the perfect beverage. He passed time thinking of torture schemes and the deep crevices of a fanatic’s smile. Somehow in the strange functions of his mind, Scott’s face appeared on the body of his madman.
Well, that was rather frightful.
He did his best to shake off those thoughts and put himself back in the right headspace, closing his eyes to picture a man less attractive than his live-in lover. Dirty fingers knotted around those plastic zip-tie devices the police generally used in lieu of handcuffs, pinching tight until the skin turned yellow-white. Yes, this is working. The villain had a gleam in his eyes, knowing his victim wouldn’t get away once he became bound at his ankles and wrists.
“Venti latte for Silas.”
Or not.
“Silas?”
The new voice pulled Silas’s attention from the barista and toward the general public who consumed their warm beverages with faces in books or laptops. His sights landed on black boots, wound up the navy slacks, hesitated at the groin, then continued their journey north to Ben Logan’s smiling face. Silas couldn’t have been happier to find his new acquaintance on the end of that surprise voice.
“Well, hello, Officer.” Silas extended his hand.
Ben gave it a firm, manly shake. “How’ve you been?”
“Great.” Liar.
“Where’s your friend?”
“Friend? No. My assistant is… doing whatever it is assistants do.”
Silas knew how his answer sounded. The words gave an impression of weariness or annoyance with Scott. Which wasn’t completely true. They shared many beautiful moments. They rarely fought. Scott did absolutely everything Silas needed him to do, save for giving him space when Silas needed it.
“I thought you two were a thing or whatever,” Ben said.
“Or whatever.” Silas snorted.
He collected his coffee and nodded toward the door, hoping Ben would graciously allow this conversation to continue outside. The handsome officer with the magnetic smile and charming personality followed him. Silas held the door so he could get a gander of Ben’s hind parts in passing. It might’ve been the uniform, but Officer Hot Body still had a hot bottom too.
Ben waited to the side as Silas settled into a seat, and then he took the spot directly across the table from him. Sun coming from the west haloed Ben’s head, giving him an angelic aura. The hero of this story with a golden backdrop, how appropriate, Silas thought. His brain didn’t hesitate to put Ben into a role—the budding writer’s savior in a romance where Silas played the damsel in distress.
“We’re….” Silas tapped his chin. “I’m not exactly sure what we are.”
Ben arched his brow.
“Scott and I,” Silas clarified. “He was supposed to be my assistant, and, well, I blame phone sex. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
When Ben continued to stare without expression, Silas feared he’d overshared. Not everyone wanted to hear the details of a gay man’s love life. In his defense, he assumed such of Officer Ben because the question had been posed.
“I’m so sorry,” Silas said, holding up both hands.
“No, it’s okay. I asked.”
“Are you…?”
“Am I what?” Ben frowned.
“Gay.”
Ben’s jaw ticked, skin rippling over bone. It made him appear so much older, so much more rugged and world-worn than he had been before. He also didn’t seem to want to look Silas in the eye anymore, which could only mean one thing.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Silas said.
“I didn’t say I was.”
“You didn’t say you weren’t either.”
Silence.
“Which usually means you don’t want anyone knowing.” More silence. Silas cocked his head. “And as I said, your secret is safe with me.”
The handsome officer took a quick glance around, eyes shifting about as if he were trying to cover up some elaborate caper. How fun would that be? To be part of someone’s deepest darkest secret. To be so trusted. Ben leaned closer, practically crossing the table. He gave a nod, and Silas, as if drawn by a force unseen, leaned forward as well. They weren’t close enough to kiss, but close enough the woody scent of Ben’s cologne overpowered the scent of fresh-brewed coffee.
“No one can know,” he whispered. “The guys on the force….”
“Sweetie, I know.” Silas wanted so badly to reach across that table and lay his hand over Ben’s, but he knew better. He knew the moment their skin touched Ben would pull away and likely disappear from Silas’s precious world. So, there he sat, awkward and praying for Ben to say something else. He never did.
“I think we should meet for coffee again,” Silas finally said.
“Yeah?” Ben gave him the most adorable boy-next-door grin. It pushed dimples into his cheeks and filled his eyes with a shimmer Silas could only call excitement. Silas loved that this beautiful man was so ecstatic to spend time with him, though he knew Ben was only a fan, and Silas meant the association in a purely nonsexual way.
“Absolutely.”
“Do you think people will…?”
“I doubt it. I used to sit here and write quite a bit.”
“And I’m always here.”
“And you’re a fan,” Silas continued for him.
“Maybe one day I’ll be a friend.”
Well, didn’t the thought of being in Ben’s personal circle make Silas feel all squirrely inside? He felt like a teenage girl trying to maintain composure in the presence of a super-secret crush. One edge of his mouth managed to break through his stoicism. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement,” Silas said, keeping his tone as casual as possible.
“Sounds good.” Ben gave a nod, rising from his seat.
No! Don’t go.
Silas stood with him, though why, he didn’t quite know. Courtesy? No. He didn’t want to see Ben go. “So, we’ll do this again soon, yeah?”
“I’m here a lot,” Ben said rather loudly, crooked grin on his beautiful lips. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” Then he winked.
He winked. Silas’s heart melted. Butterflies tickled his stomach. The most unfortunate sight in the world was watching him go.
Silas slid down into his seat, exhaling as he settled into place. Butterflies.
AN HOUR or so later, Silas arrived back at his home. During his stay at Starbucks, he didn’t write the first word. Couldn’t, actually. His mind didn’t want to waltz with fictional characters and fictional towns. No, not at all. That dance card was reserved for a certain officer whose reoccurring appearance in Silas’s life made things a lot more complicated than Silas wanted or needed them to be. Ben stayed on his mind, from the first hello to the last good-bye, to the final drip of coffee consumed before tossing aside the cardboard cup and deciding to come home. None of this was bad, of course. It excited Silas, gave him a reason to smile, even if it all interrupted the creative process—something that angered Silas under normal circumstances. Officer Hot Body wasn’t a normal circumstance.
The buzz of happiness wore off the moment he pulled into his driveway and saw Scott’s little red Toyota something or other parked in Silas’s usual spot. He’d known Scott would be there. Scott was always there. But he still found himself in a reality-crashing-in kind of moment. And none too pleased he couldn’t park his vehicle where it belonged.
He started toward the side door of the house he’d always loved. Now, he dreaded going inside. He knew the moment he darkened the door, Scott would be at his feet, begging for love and affection when Silas needed to focus on work. This was why he didn’t like relationships. Companionship was fine. A friend? Indeed. But relationships made everything more complicated. Time had to be shared like a commodity. Feelings had to be considered. It wasn’t about doing whatever Silas wanted to do, but rather the things Scott wanted them to do together. He took one last sobering breath and stepped inside.
“I’m home,” he called out when Scott didn’t greet him in the kitchen.
No one responded.
No one came running.
Hmm. Maybe he’s taking a nap.
Odd, however. Scott never slowed down long enough for a nap. Well, save for the few times they’d curled up in front of the fireplace together. November had given them at least three opportunities. Could’ve been more. Silas didn’t keep track.
“Is anyone home?” he asked, voice rising in volume.
Again, nothing.
Inside his bedroom, he found a perfectly made bed. No Scott curled around the pillows with lightly closed eyes. No Scott lying there naked, waiting for Silas to come home.
Now Silas was becoming genuinely bothered. He searched for a note. Something to let him know Scott wouldn’t be home. Nothing. The bathroom was vacant too.
Perplexed, he sank down on the edge of his bed. He reached for the cheap, corded phone on his nightstand, almost afraid to put it to his ear for all the dust. Dust didn’t matter right now. Finding Scott mattered, and calling was the best option. Thankfully, he’d committed Scott’s phone number to memory and didn’t have to waste time searching for a card or a résumé that was probably buried in a stack of papers somewhere. He punched in the number, hesitating at the end because he couldn’t remember if it was a six or a nine. Six worked on the first try.
When a second ringing sound came from the front of the house, Silas’s gut twisted. He’d written scenes just like this. A crazy person breaks into a home, kidnaps its occupants, and tortures them. It was a bad horror movie, an urban legend. Had someone broken into his home and taken his sweet boyfriend?
Sweet boyfriend?
“Scott. Are you here?”
“In here, Silas,” Scott called out. His voice came from the front of the house, exactly where Silas had already been. Silas didn’t hesitate to rush forward, however. If Scott needed a hero, then Silas planned to do his best. If Scott needed saving, then Silas would be his Superman.
Dim light leaked in around the edges of the living room curtains, enough Silas only saw the silhouette of someone standing beside his desk. It had to be Scott, and why the hell was he acting like a madman? Silas reached over and flipped on the lights.
Scott’s eyes were red and his nose swollen, like he’d been crying for hours. He leaned against the edge of Silas’s desk, arms crossed over his chest. The unmistakable fires of rage and heartbreak burned in his eyes. Silas had never seen anything like that in him before.
“Scott?” Silas whispered.
“You went there to meet him, didn’t you?” Scott spat. Each word trembled a little more than the one before it. Clearly he didn’t want Silas seeing him cry.
“I did not. He said he was there quite often. I went to write.”
“Write, huh?” Scott snorted. “I saw you two. I heard you talk to him.”
Silas replayed his entire conversation with Officer Ben Logan. Though, put on the spot like this, he couldn’t recall much more than how beautiful that man was. Silas could, however, remember how good it felt to be free, even if for a few hours.
“Do you want to fuck him?” Scott asked.
“Stop it. Right now.” Silas held up both hands. “Why are you being like this?”
“I saw the way you looked at him. You’ve never looked at me like that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe I should’ve taken pictures.”
“Did you follow me?” Silas’s heart pounded harder. Adrenaline? Fear? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he was on the verge of having a heart attack. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “I can’t believe you followed me. Why?” This emotion felt like pure anger.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Scott said. “But I’m the one who got the surprise.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Silas said.
“Are you in love with him?” Scott asked.
Silas grabbed him by both shoulders, squeezing tight as he jerked Scott forward. “Stop it. Right now. Stop it.” Their noses were inches apart now. “We’re through. Get your shit and get out of my house.”
He released Scott’s shoulders, and Scott’s feet fell flat against the ground again. Silas didn’t realize he’d been so aggressive. Kudos, he supposed. Everyone told him he needed to learn how to take up for himself.
“Is that really what you want?” Scott asked.
“It is. I can’t do this anymore. I need my space, and you need….” Help.
“Fine. Whatever.” Scott hung his head but began doing exactly as Silas had asked. He began gathering his belongings, starting with the notebook he’d left on the edge of Silas’s desk—the novel Scott had been penning, the one he’d all but begged Silas to read more than once.
Silas couldn’t stand watching Scott pout and couldn’t bear the slight glassiness in his eyes. It resembled watching a broken puppy being thrown into a cage because no one wanted him. Silas didn’t even know what Scott was being thrown back to. Did he have friends and family? Did anyone care about Scott Kramer’s well-being? And that’s exactly why Silas couldn’t watch this. Every sniffle brought him closer to telling Scott he could stay.
Things could change. In the future, maybe, when Silas realized he liked having company, then he would call Scott again and invite him over. Not to try again, of course, but for a little fun between the sheets and maybe a meal. Soon, but not soon. In a month, maybe. Or longer.
In the kitchen, Silas reached into the fridge for a beer. He wasn’t a huge drinker, and even less often did he toss back anything in a brown bottle, but one of the baristas at Starbucks had turned him onto this great little microbrew from Mississippi. Now Silas kept a six-pack in the fridge for moments like these when he needed something to take the edge off.
Silas wasn’t completely heartless, though. The longer he stood alone in that dreary kitchen with the bottle of beer in his hand, the more he regretted his relationship with Scott Kramer coming to this. Scott was a good guy, a helpful guy. He was fun to be with and usually fun to work with. If only he wasn’t so needy and smothering. If only….
“I’m done.” Scott stood in the doorway, duffel bags hanging off his shoulders. When had he brought so many things into Silas’s home? “I’m leaving.”
“Scott, listen—”
“Don’t, okay? It’s easier if you just don’t.”
“Fair enough.” Silas gave a nod. “But you have my number.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Good-bye, Silas.”
“Good-bye, Scott.”