And yet another chapter is finished for your reading pleasure. :o) Let me know what you think of the new developments. And be sure to check out the BH website for the latest on the publication of my first novel, Bleeding Hearts.
http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
Email: Aterovis@aol.com
Chapter 24
Micah stood there for a second staring into my face. I tried to read his thoughts but his eyes revealed nothing. He stepped away and then slowly backed up until his legs hit the couch, where he sat down with a thud.
"What's wrong?" I asked, panic rising in my throat like the taste of bile. I asked but I was pretty sure I already knew. I'd blown it, pushed too hard, too fast, and now he thought I was some sort of slut.
"It's just..." he started but I cut him off.
"Don't. You don't have to explain it. That was stupid. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry. Maybe I'd better just leave."
"Killian, don't be sorry. It wasn't stupid. You don't know how much I want you to stay the night."
"Then...what's the problem?"
"I don't know. I mean I do know; it's just..."
"What?"
"Killian, you're different, special. You seem so...as if everything was your first time."
I sighed and sat down on a chair across the room. "It is."
"What do you mean? I thought you had a boyfriend for a long time."
"I did. We dated for over a year and a half, but I've known him all my life. He was my best friend. We never really went on a "date" date. We never went through that whole getting to know each other process like we've been doing. It's not the same at all. This is so...incredible. I mean we never even..." I looked down at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Never even what?"
"We never even made love."
"You...you didn't...you mean...you're..."
"I'm a virgin."
"And you wanted me..."
I forced myself to look him in the eyes. "Yes."
"Oh wow. Oh wow. That's a big deal, Killian."
"I know."
"I mean, it should be really special and all."
"Tonight has been special."
"I didn't mean-tonight was special, very special. But, excuse me for being crude, but I don't just want to be the guy who took your cherry."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to be more than that. I like you, Killian; I mean I really like you, a lot. I've liked you since the first time we met and I've liked you more and more ever since. And after tonight...I could fall in love with you very easily."
"I like you too," I told him softly. "I think maybe I could fall in love with you too."
"Ok, then, you see what I mean?"
"No."
It was his turn to sigh. "I would be so honored to be your first, but when it happens, if it happens, I want it to be so incredibly special. I don't want it to be on a fist date while you're half buzzing."
"I'm not-"
"What if you wake up tomorrow and you regret it? It could ruin any chance for anything between us. As much as I want you, and trust me, I do want you; I'm not willing to risk that."
I stared at him for a minute as what he was saying sunk it. "You do want me?"
He laughed. "Who wouldn't want you? You're absolutely beautiful, you're brilliant, you're fun, sexy, sweet, funny...shall I go on?"
"No," I said weakly. He stood up and crossed the room, kneeling in front of me. He cupped my face in both hands and looked me straight in the eyes. This time it was easy to read what was in them.
"Killian, you're the most amazing guy I've ever met. I've never met anyone like you. I...I want to date you, I want to get to know you better, I want to spend time with you. And then, maybe then, I'll sleep with you, but only if it feels right."
"But I thought..."
"You thought all gay guys were giant horndogs that would hump anything that offered?" He smiled.
"I didn't say that," I giggled.
"But that's what you were thinking. Don't buy into the stereotypes, Killian. I thought you were smarter than that. Not all gay guys are like that, you're not like that; I can tell. Oh, there are more than a few like that, and maybe I used to be like that, but I've learned the hard way that you can't build anything real on just sex."
"Adam always says you need a solid foundation to start with. What did you mean you learned the hard way?"
"I'll tell you about it sometime."
"What's wrong with right now?"
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then smiled. "Ok, but let's move to the couch. It's more comfortable than sitting on my knees on the floor."
I laughed and we transferred to the couch, me on one end and Micah on the other, our feet touching in the middle.
"I've never told anyone outside my family and my counselor. If I'm going to tell you now, then I need to be able to go through the whole thing without being interrupted, ok?" I nodded and he took a deep breath and began to talk. "I guess I started realizing I was different when I was about 13. All the other guys were going crazy about girls and all I ever thought about was my best friend Paul. I knew I was gay but I was scared to death to tell anybody. One day I was trying to get Paul to take his clothes off in our back yard. I was always trying to get him naked somehow; I don't even remember what excuse I was using that time. I didn't think we were where we could be seen or heard, but anyway Paul got mad at me and said he was sick of me trying to get his clothes off and he left in a huff. I can't really blame him.
"So I'm sitting there by myself trying not to cry when all of a sudden my neighbor starts talking to me. He'd heard the whole thing. I almost panicked. I thought I was dead for sure, that he'd tell my parents and I'd be kicked out or disowned or something. I can't even remember what he was saying I was so scared. But then he promised not to tell anyone if I came over to his house. I felt like I didn't have a choice. That was the beginning of...well, two years of torture. I was 13 and I lost my virginity to a 39 year old guy. He told me he loved me but he didn't, not really. He just wanted to own me. He tried to tell me who I could see and where I could go. I was scared to disobey him. He'd freak out if he saw me with someone I wasn't supposed to see. He never hit me but I always felt like I was only an inch away from that. I was so scared, so trapped.
"Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I had some kind of breakdown. I was afraid to leave the house; I'd have panic attacks, start screaming and crying. My parents didn't know what the hell was going on. They took me to a shrink and it all came out. My parents were furious, I've never seen them so angry-but not with me. They filed all sorts of charges on this guy. I don't know what happened after that really. They kept me out of it as much as possible. All I know, and all I cared about is that I never saw him again. For a while they thought that maybe I wasn't really gay, that the guy had just perverted me or something. Eventually, with the help of my counselor, they realized that I was gay before him and I was still gay after him. They accepted it really well at that point and they've been supportive ever since."
"Oh my God," was all I could manage when he stopped for a breath.
"Well, I'm not really finished. Obviously I was pretty messed up after that. I felt like no one would ever love me and all I knew about was sex and how to use it. So I did. I slept with half the guys in my school, gay, bi and straight. I guess all I really wanted was for one of them to love me. I thought that somehow I could make them love me with my sex. Eventually I learned, through a lot of broken hearts and even more counseling, that it doesn't work that way. It hasn't been easy to completely change my whole way of thinking, but I guess now you can see why I didn't want to sleep with you tonight. It would be too much like slipping back into my old habits and I don't want that. I don't want to ruin this with you. I don't know where this is going, but you're the most incredible guy I've ever met. I want us to have a chance and I want your first time to be the special, not like mine was."
"Micah, I'm so..."
"Killian, I don't need your sympathy or pity or whatever. I've done a lot of healing over the years. I'm not the same kid I was then. There'll always be some scars but I'm good now. I'm happy. I didn't tell you all this to make you feel sorry for me. I wanted you to know the truth. It felt right to tell you."
I reached out and took his hand. He looked down at his hand in mine and suddenly his lip started to tremble. I pulled his hand to my lips and gently kissed it.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He took a ragged breath and seemed to gain control again. He gave me a shaky smile and all of a sudden I couldn't stand it anymore, I quickly leaned in and pressed my mouth against his. We kissed for several minutes before he broke away.
"I need to get you home," he said huskily.
I nodded although I wanted to stay more than anything.
His eyes searched mine. "Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
I leaned in until my lips were brushing against his ear. "Try and stop me," I whispered. I flicked my tongue lightly over his ear and he shuddered. He gently pushed me away.
"Don't you ever stop?" he asked playfully.
"Do you really want me to?" I giggled.
"Do I really have to answer that?" And then without warning he leaped up, tossing me over his shoulder as he did. He's stronger than he looks, I thought in surprise. He grabbed up his car keys, swung open the door and carried me out still slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"You can put me down now," I said.
"I don't trust you."
"What will your neighbors think?"
"Who cares?"
"Micah!"
He laughed and carefully set me back on my feet. "Behave?"
"Yes, I'll behave. Jeez."
We walked to his car in silence.
"Thank you for telling me all that," I said once we were on the way back to my house. "I know it wasn't easy for you. It means a lot."
"You've told me a lot that couldn't have been easy. And I trust you so it was easier than I thought it would be. It's like I knew you wouldn't judge me."
I looked at him in confusion. "Why would I judge you? What happened with your neighbor wasn't you fault. And what happened after that, well, it's the past. It helped make you who you are today and since I happen to really like who you are today I have no complaints. Besides, who am I to judge anybody?"
He smiled at me and took my hand. "You get more and more awesome all the time, you know that."
"I do not!"
"You do, and don't argue with me."
I sighed and snuggled closer to him, resting my head against his shoulder. He turned on the radio and tuned it to a light rock station. I fell asleep listening to Bette Midler singing "The Rose".
He gently shook me awake when we were in front of my house again. "You're home, beautiful boy."
I blinked awake and sat up. "I fell asleep," I astutely observed.
"Yeah, I noticed," he said with a crooked smile.
I smiled back as I rubbed my eyes. "Walk me to the door?"
"Of course. Stay put."
He jumped out his door and ran around to my side, opening the door with a flourish. I grinned and climbed out with the help of his proffered hand.
We ambled up to the front porch, still holding hands. I turned into his body and slid my arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around me tightly.
"Kiss me goodnight?" I asked, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. He obliged with a sweet, tender kiss that just about made me melt. He broke off the kiss and stepped away, his hand lingering on my cheek.
"I'm really glad you called me," he said softly.
"Me too. I think this might have been the best date I've ever been on."
He smiled. "Good. It just might be the best date I've ever been on too."
We stood grinning at each other like idiots for a minute before Micah started backing away again. "I guess I'd better go," he said.
"I guess."
"Bye."
"Bye."
"We'll do this again soon."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Ok. Bye."
"You just said that."
"Oh."
He reached the steps and quickly turned and trotted to the car. He paused again by the car door, then jumped in and drove away. I watched until the tail lights disappeared from view. I let myself in, my mind still on Micah.
"Did you have a nice time?" Adam asked from the kitchen door, causing me to jump and let out a little yelp. "Sorry," he chuckled.
"Did you wait up for me?" I asked in a slightly injured tone.
"No, goofball, I didn't wait up for you. I worked late and then decided to have a drink before I went to bed. Care to join me?"
"In a drink?"
"How does warm milk sound?"
"Disgusting."
He laughed. "Then how about a real drink?"
I was surprised that he'd offer me alcohol, but it made me feel good at the same time. One more way of showing me he really did see me as an adult now. I thought about it for a minute, then decided I'd had enough to drink for one night and shook my head.
"Join me anyway? Tell me about your night."
"Ok," I said and followed him into the kitchen. A small glass sat on the table about half full. I sat down across from the glass and Adam slid in behind it.
"So?"
"It was incredible. I really like Micah a lot."
"Well, seeing as how he got you home at a fairly decent hour I think I like him too. What did you guys do?"
"He took me to dinner and then we went for a walk on the beach and just talked. Then we went dancing at the Inferno."
"You were able to get in?"
"Micah knew the...woman at the door."
"Carmen?"
"You know Carmen too?"
"Everybody knows Carmen."
"What does she do during the day?"
"Nobody knows that."
"Micah does."
"Did he tell you?"
"No."
"Oh well. And then you came home?"
"Well he showed me his place first."
"Oh, you went back to his house?"
"Apartment and it's really nice."
"Um."
"We didn't do anything, Adam." Although not for lack of trying on my part, I thought.
"I didn't say you did."
"Micah's really nice. He's a perfect gentleman. He opens doors for me and everything. He really respects me."
"I'm glad to hear that. He sounds like a nice guy."
"He really is. And now I'm really tired so I think I'm gonna head up to bed."
"Don't forget we're going to start painting on the house tomorrow."
"Amalie's house?"
"No, it's Steve's house. Now get to bed."
I laughed. "Ok, ok. See you in the morning. Don't get me up too early."
"Crack of dawn."
"I bite."
"I'll be sure to warn Micah."
"Ha! Good night, Adam."
"Good night, Kill."
Kane woke me up the next morning moving around the room. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was only eight o'clock.
"Ugh," I grunted.
"Good morning," he chirped cheerfully.
"Ugh."
"You got home late last night. Were you with that guy all that time?"
I sat up, suddenly awake. "Yeah, Micah. He's incredible."
He stopped and looked at me. "You really like him don't you?"
"Yeah, I do. I mean it was our first date and all..."
"Did you sleep with him?"
"Kane!"
"What? I'm just asking."
"It's none of your business."
"So that means no."
"It means it's none of your damn business."
"Jeez, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm just kidding. Are you going to help paint the new house?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Well, you better drag your ass outta bed and get dressed."
I sighed and threw back the covers. We got dressed and met Steve and Adam downstairs, where Adam had a hearty breakfast of doughnuts waiting for us. We all drove out to the house. It looked just as creepy as it did last time, but maybe in a little better shape. The yard was better tended and the painters had finished the outside before they quit. The work on the deck and dock over the river was going well, the framework was in place.
"It looks like it's really coming along," I said.
"You haven't been out here in a while have you?" Steve asked.
"Nope. Not since you were meeting with that contractor that one day."
"Well, things are coming along pretty well considering. I think it should all be done in another month or so. We should be able to open this fall. They still have to clear the back lot, though."
We all trooped into the house and Steve showed me a few things that had been done that he was particularly happy with. After my mini-tour, we were all assigned rooms to paint. Adam and Steve took the kitchen, Kane got the pantry and I was sent up to the third floor to start on one of the bedrooms.
The drop sheets were laid out along the wall and a ladder was in place to reach the crown moldings next to the high ceiling. A gallon of paint sat in the center of the room, a brush lying on top. After searching a few minutes I located a screwdriver to pry the top off and a stick to stir it. I set to cutting in the trim work first, the tedious part as anyone who has ever painted a room can tell you. The mindless work allowed my mind to wander and I had plenty of time to think about Asher and Micah. It was the first time I had been able to think about Asher without feeling as if I were poking a raw wound since I had caught him kissing Caleb. I thought that was an encouraging sign in Micah's favor. I really liked him. He seemed so honest and genuine, and maybe someone with a little experience was just what I needed; no more little boys.
I had been painting and thinking for about an hour when I heard footsteps in the hall. My back was to the door so I just called out as I painted.
"Is it break time?" I asked, thinking it was Adam, Steve or Kane. There was no answer and suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I carefully laid the brush down on top of the ladder and twisted around to look. There was no one in sight. "Hey, that's not funny. Who's there?" There was still no answer so I climbed down the ladder and stepped into the hall. There was no sign that anyone was on the third besides me but I was positive I had heard footsteps. Voices drifted up from the staircase from two floors below so that someone was still down there at least. Maybe Kane was playing a trick on me. He knew I believed that something was in the house. I took another look around the hall. It was then that I noticed the door to the cupola was slightly ajar. Had it been when I came upstairs? I wasn't sure since I hadn't been paying attention.
I took a few hesitant steps towards the stairs but suddenly decided I was being foolish. I threw back my shoulders and strode purposefully down the hall and yanked the door open the rest of the way. I looked up the narrow steps. There was no sign of anyone. I decided to put this to rest once and for all. I started climbing the stairs, quickly at first and then slowing gradually as I neared the top. Finally, I stopped just short of where the stairs cleared the floor, my head just out of sight. I screwed up all my courage and forced myself to peek up over the edge of the floor. I almost laughed out loud with relief. The tiny room was empty, of course. I took the last few steps almost lightheartedly and admired the view once again.
"Back to work," I told myself and turned to go down the stairs. I glanced down and froze with my foot on the first step. She was standing at the foot of the stairs looking up at me, a look of immense sorrow on her face. She had been pretty once and could have been now but for the weight of sadness that marred her features. She wore a long dress, dark and drab with no ornamentation at all, and her hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She looked different from the last time I saw her, older and more haggard, but I knew who it was. It was the woman from the portrait I had found in the storage room. And now I knew that it was a portrait of Amalie.