Chapter Ten

The alarm went off for a second time and Eric opened his eyes when CJ hit the snooze button again. He waited and stared at the back of CJ’s head as he contemplated what the hell to say. Though last night had been nothing more than a messy fumble of kisses and touches, and them falling asleep in each other’s arms, in some ways it had been a lot more meaningful. He had felt comforted and relaxed, like slipping into an easy, if not a strange habit. In seven years, he had never really got CJ from under his skin. Waking up with CJ was something he had never imagined possible. Not since he’d walked, or rather ran, away.

“Hey,” he finally said and he sensed the tension in CJ as the man stiffened. “Are you okay?”

CJ said nothing, simply threw back the bed covers, and without even a brief look at Eric, got out of bed and left the room.

Not quite the answer Eric had hoped for. Closing his eyes, Eric rolled onto his back then opened them again to stare up at the ceiling. He focused on the chipped paint and faint scuff marks. He remembered he and CJ lying together as teenagers and throwing and catching a rubber ball, bouncing it hard against the ceiling as they passed it between them. Eric examined the large bedroom. Though the décor hadn’t been refreshed since they were kids, plenty other things had changed. There were no more posters of soccer players and pop stars, no plastic toy figures and no piles of CDs or video tapes of horror movies. The room was more impersonal than he remembered. A few scattered toiletries and framed photographs on the sides but nothing that really said, CJ.

Photographs. He stared at the closet door and wondered what he might find behind it. CJ used to have a Polaroid camera and he had loved to take photos of his family and friends, making a collage of the precious moments.

“You still here?” CJ said, interrupting Eric’s memories. He leaned against the door jam and met Eric’s eyes. He was dressed in the same clothes from last night—the clothes he’d fallen asleep in.

Eric considered the meaning behind CJ’s words. Yes, he was still here. “What time do you have to be at the center?” Eric did his best to steer the conversation. It was too early to get into an argument.

“Mikey’s opening up,” he said and folded his arms, taking a deep breath as he stifled a yawn.

“Do you have plans?”

“Nothing special. I’m seeing Jodie later to finish looking over some stuff.”

“For the center?”

CJ gave a small nod. “Yeah, just some papers and things.” He fixed his gaze on the floor, and Eric figured he was the last person CJ wanted to talk to about his money troubles.

“You want to get some breakfast? My treat,” Eric added.

There was something in CJ’s eyes as he looked back at Eric—fear, hesitance. “I don’t know,” he said. “Last night, I…we…” His words trailed off as he rubbed at his face.

“I’m sorry,” was all Eric could think to say. It wasn’t as if they had done anything other than hold each other in the dark.

Shaking his head, CJ came to sit on the edge of the bed and slowly began to draw circles across the pattern of the bed cover. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t have come here and I shouldn’t have kissed you. It wasn’t fair.”

“It wasn’t,” CJ agreed. “To either of us.”

Mixed feelings raged inside Eric. He had missed CJ. Missed all the good things they’d had. He just wished he could be eighteen again with not a care in the world. Happy. Instead, he was here, hurting himself and CJ all over again. God, if there was ever a time he’d needed a beer…

“What did you have in mind?” CJ suddenly asked.

What? Eric stared at CJ. “In mind?”

CJ smiled. “For breakfast?”

* * * *

“Where have you been?” Marcus asked in a low voice. “And what’s he doing here?”

Eric glanced over his shoulder where CJ hovered in the driveway. He closed the front door. “What do you care?”

“Don’t be like that.” Marcus looked at him pointedly. “Please tell me you didn’t have a drink.”

Did Marcus indeed have that little faith in him? “I didn’t,” he said firmly and headed toward the stairs. A quick change of clothes then he’d head out with CJ.

“So, where were you? I was worried.” Marcus followed him upstairs.

“Nowhere,” Eric said and pushed his bedroom door near-closed as he entered his room. Marcus didn’t take the hint.

“And the reason Mr Baggage himself is standing in the driveway?” Marcus pursued as he followed Eric. His blue eyes were filled with concern as Eric turned around.

What did he want Eric to say? “We’re getting breakfast. That’s all.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You stayed at his place? Did you two…?”

Eric snorted a laugh. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No. I’m concerned.”

Eric tensed his jaw and shifted his focus to the ceiling. He didn’t need to get into an argument.

“I just think dredging up the past isn’t going to do you or him any favors. Why do that to yourself? Or is that it? You’re looking for a new way to hurt yourself?” There was a flash of fear in Marcus’s eyes and Eric wished he could allay that fear. “Please, Eric. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep punishing yourself.”

I deserve to be punished.

“Eric,” Marcus continued. “Please.” He pressed his hand to Eric’s back. Comfortingly, he squeezed Eric’s shoulder and rested his chin against him. “Maybe we should head back to LA. There are meetings you can go to. There’s Madeleine. And you have me.”

Was that enough? Was that the answer? Eric looked past Marcus and at his reflection in the mirror. He needed something more. He needed CJ’s forgiveness. He needed to forgive himself. “We’ll talk later,” he said and pulled away from Marcus in search of fresh clothes.

Marcus made an exasperated noise. “Fine. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” Eric grabbed what he needed, turned his back on Marcus and changed.

“At least tell me where you’re going?”

Swapping his T-shirt, Eric then glanced over his shoulder. “To get breakfast.” He met Marcus’s eyes and flashed him a comforting smile. “It’s just breakfast. That’s it.” He finished dressing and walked up to Marcus, pulling the man into a brief hug and kissing the top of his head. “I’m not angry with you, okay?”

Nodding, Marcus stepped back and rubbed at his face. His eyes seemed teary and red. “I’m sorry. Artie said—”

“Forget it.” He squeezed Marcus’s shoulder. “Look, I’ll be back in an hour or so then we can talk about what we’re going to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eric hugged him again. The scent of Marcus’s floral shampoo warmed him through. “Later,” he said and left the room.

* * * *

Martha’s was still the dimly lit café Eric remembered. Lace-edged table cloths covered each of the dark wooden, round tables, and silver cutlery and servers decorated the tables, together with a small silver vase with a single fake white rose placed inside. Eric rested his head in his hand as he glanced around the room. It was quirkily old-fashioned and smelled of sweet syrup and coffee.

“What are you having?” CJ asked as he stared at the list of breakfast items.

Eric shrugged. He didn’t feel all that hungry. “Maybe just some pancakes.”

“Hmm.” CJ pressed his mouth in a line as he gazed up and down the menu. “Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast. Oh, and some OJ.” He sat back and patted his belly. “Will need my strength for paper sorting,” he said with a smile.

“Anything in particular?” Eric tried to engage CJ in talk about the center. He wanted a way in—a way to offer his help.

CJ quickly closed Eric’s opening. “Just filing,” he said, though this time his smile was more strained.

“It’s going well then, the club?” Maybe it would be second time lucky.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Or not. “Good.” Eric sighed and distracted himself with a loose thread from the table cloth.

“Look, last night. It was just one of those things. It doesn’t need to be a big deal.” CJ met Eric’s eyes and nodded, encouraging Eric to agree with him.

A big deal? God, CJ had no idea just how big a deal it was. Eric had been low and confused and needy and CJ had been there. They’d kissed and touched and held each other until they’d fallen asleep. It had been what Eric had needed. What he had been missing all this time. And for a little while, he had believed things could be okay again. That he’d be okay.

“Sure,” Eric said and nudged his fork, lining up his cutlery. He dared to raise his eyes, immediately regretting it as he noted how CJ looked at him. He could see clearly the doubt and uncertainty in CJ’s eyes and he knew CJ didn’t believe him. There wasn’t much he could do about it. It was how he felt. How he had always felt. He loved CJ and spending time with his old love was doing nothing to quash those feelings. He wanted to say something more, but it wouldn’t do him or CJ any favors. Somehow, he needed to move on. Maybe Marcus was right. Maybe they should head back to LA.

“What can I get you?” the waitress said cheerfully. She rocked on her feet beside their table.

Eric held out his hand, indicating for CJ to go first. Any enthusiasm he’d had for food had slipped away. He waited as CJ ordered his breakfast then the waitress turned to him. She was all blonde and bubbly with freckles and braces. “Just a coffee for me thanks. Black,” he said and did his best to ignore CJ’s curious eyes.

“Coming up,” she said and walked with a bounce in her step toward the kitchen. He wondered if she was Martha’s daughter. She must be close to eighteen by now, which would fit.

“Coffee?” CJ said with a raised eyebrow. “If I’d known you were just going to sit there and watch me eat…” He rubbed at his eye. He looked tired.

“Did you sleep okay?” For the first time in a long time, Eric had actually had a full night’s sleep. His usual fitful slumber had melted away just as he had melted into CJ’s bed. He’d felt safe and at ease and that was thanks to CJ.

CJ nodded. “Same as usual.” The remark didn’t reassure Eric in the slightest and he wondered what it was that kept CJ awake at night. Was it his money worries? Or was it something else?

“I’m fine,” CJ insisted. “I have a lot going on at the moment. But I’ll get there.” He glanced at the menu. “Maybe I should have tried the sausage patties.” Lowering the menu to the table, he met Eric’s eyes. “I’m fine,” he said again.

Eric watched him for a moment and decided against pressing CJ further. This was the first connection he’d made with someone beyond business or simply sex. He had Marcus’s paid for friendship, but it wasn’t quite the same. There was always that doubt about how real it actually was between them. Right now, though strained, CJ was giving him something real. Something he desperately wanted to hold onto, even if that meant him leaving.

“So,” CJ said and cleared his throat before changing the subject. “Any plans for your day off?”

Eric folded his arms and rested against the edge of the table. He had a couple of ideas.

* * * *

“You want me to do what?” Marcus quirked an eyebrow as he studied Eric’s handwritten instructions. “This is half a million dollars. Do you even have half a million dollars?”

Eric laughed. “Yes, I do. I didn’t piss it all away you know.” He snatched back the letter and reread what he had written. “It has to be anonymous and I want it done tomorrow.”

“It’s Sunday. I won’t be able to get hold of anyone until tomorrow anyway.”

“Fine, but first thing. I want this done as soon as possible, okay?”

Marcus didn’t seem wholly onboard with the idea. “You’re crazy. You do know that, right?” He took the paper back from Eric. “You can’t just throw money at him and think that fixes everything between you.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” It really wasn’t. He wanted to help CJ, help the kids that relied on the center for somewhere to go and something to do. That was the reason, or at least that was what he kept telling himself.

It was clear Marcus didn’t agree. “Sure it isn’t. And what’s with all this anonymous crap? Just write him a check and get it over with. He’d probably appreciate you being upfront with him about it all instead of sneaking around and doing it behind his back.”

“I am not sneaking around. I just…I’m scared he won’t take it if he knows it’s from me.”

Marcus had a “what the fuck” look on his face. “Yeah, because who else could it be? He’ll know it’s you.”

Eric went to argue, but he had nothing. “Just do it, yeah?” This was all he could think of to fix things. Money was something he had and CJ needed.

“Fine. Whatever.” Marcus raised his hands in defeat. “I’ll call the lawyers in the morning and see about them drawing something up.”

“Thank you.” Eric sat down on the couch, leaned back his head, and closed his eyes. The money was a good idea. It had to be. Besides, he and Marcus were heading back to LA at the end of the week. CJ would have no reason not to accept it. It wasn’t like he would have to see Eric ever again if he didn’t want to.

Marcus sat down beside him and rested a hand over his on his knee. “Answer me one thing,” Marcus said.

“What?” Eric opened his eyes and turned his head. Marcus’s eyes held questions, lots of them and Eric feared what answers he might expect.

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

Marcus turned to face Eric. “Why give CJ the money? And I mean, honestly? Why?”

Honestly? Eric was having a hard time being honest with himself, let alone anyone else.

“You love him, don’t you?” Marcus gently curled his fingers around Eric’s hand. “Have you told him?”

How could he? “No.”

“Why?”

That word again—why? Why this? Why that? Why? “Because,” Eric said. It was the only answer he had. “Just because.”

“What happened between you two?” Marcus narrowed his eyes as he seemed to assess every inch of Eric’s face as if he was searching for clues. “It ended badly, that’s all you’ve said.” Marcus leaned closer and squeezed Eric’s hand. “Talk to me.”

What was it with people and thinking talking could solve anything? He shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

Would Marcus understand? Or would he end up hating him too?

“What have you done that you think is so bad?”

Eric pulled his hand from beneath Marcus’s. He didn’t know where to start. “We were eighteen,” he finally said. “And yes, I loved him. I still love him.” The confession made his chest ache.

Marcus waited for him to continue. His eyes softening as he listened.

“We had an argument, I was driving and this animal, a dog maybe, ran out. It was raining, we ended up on the other side of the road, a truck hit us and we spun and rolled and…” Eric took a deep breath and rubbed tiredly at the corner of his eyebrow. “I was either thrown free or I got out of the car. I don’t remember.” He reached up and felt for the small scar beneath his hair. “I hit my head and I just started walking up to the road.”

“And CJ?” Marcus asked in a low voice as if not to startle him.

“The engine caught fire. All that rain and it caught fire.” He looked at Marcus. “He was still in the car.”

“Right. But he’s okay. He’s alive. You both are.”

“I didn’t help him,” Eric said hopelessly.

“You hit your head, right? You were confused. You weren’t in any state to help him or anyone.”

Maybe. Eric sighed and stared at his hands as he began to fidget with the knee of his jeans.

“He can’t blame you for that, surely?”

Shaking his head, Eric turned to Marcus. “No, he doesn’t. But I should have helped him, and when he needed me the most, I left.”

“You left? What? The car?”

“After.”

Marcus frowned. “When?” There was no reason he’d understand.

“CJ was in a coma for…I don’t even remember now. Weeks. His family hated me, blamed me even, and I could see it in their eyes. I blamed myself. I didn’t think he’d ever want to see me again. So, I left and went to LA and I never looked back. I didn’t call him or ask after him or…I just wanted to forget.” He looked at Marcus, who simply shook his head. “What?” Did Marcus hate him too? Did he now understand just how pathetic Eric was?

“You’re so wrong.” Marcus sniffed a laugh and got to his feet. “I hate to tell you this, but you’ve never stopped looking back.” He pushed his hands in his pant pockets and gave Eric an encouraging smile. “You couldn’t forget him and from what I’ve seen, he didn’t forget about you either. You need to talk to him and I mean properly.” Lowering his head, he backed away, turning on his heel before leaving the room.

Eric rested his head in his hand and considered Marcus’s suggestion. He had tried to talk to CJ last night but to little avail. Maybe he could try again. Checking the clock, he worried his lower lip. The center was open until four today so that gave him a good three hours to come up with a plan of what he wanted, needed to say to CJ. It also gave him time to figure out how the hell he was going to convince CJ to listen to him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He needed to do this before he went back to LA. The question was, could he?