Demetrius, page 12
I stood and followed Demetrius into the hall where we wouldn’t be seen. I had to cross my arms to stop myself from touching him.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He turned, looked me over, and bit his lip.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You look upset.”
“Yeah, just, you know…” I sighed. “You blanked me.”
His cheeks darkened and he shifted.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “My phone died…”
So, he was sticking to that.
My gaze landed on the floor. It was next on the list after the basement was fixed. A beautiful charred wood would fill the entire ground floor. I wasn’t looking forward to being on my hands and knees for weeks on end. My back ached at the thought of it.
“Do you want to come to see Meechie’s soccer game with me tonight?” Demetrius suddenly asked. “It’s his first one in Gaynor Beach.”
I looked up, surprised.
“I went to a couple of their practices. The team is good. It’ll be fun.”
A smile pulled at my lips.
“I’ll take any excuse I can to cheer that kid on,” I said.
A genuine smile overtook Demetrius’ face. He touched my arm, still folded.
“That means a lot, thank you,” he said gently. “He’ll be happy you’re there.”
I guessed from the way Demetrius looked at me that he would be happy too. When I dropped my arms and reached for him though, he barely let me touch his hand for more than a second before he was pulling away.
“I have to make some calls,” he said.
I nodded, watching him ascend the steps, never looking back at me.
I felt cold for the rest of the day, even after my body was heated from work. Meeting Demetrius at the field later that day and being greeted with only a wave made it worse.
When I sat next to him, I could feel the way he shifted away and the tension, the awareness of me next to him, like he was ready to move even further if I tried to touch him.
Somehow, I managed to cheer Meech on, finding some enjoyment in the fact that he was having fun. I might have hollered the loudest when their team scored, and when his sweet face turned and waved at me and Demetrius in the crowds, that helped a little, but not enough.
Especially when I sat back, accidentally bumping Demetrius’ shoulder, causing the other man to shift nearly half a foot away, his lips pursed.
I had to take a deep breath and school my features before I could say anything. I managed to keep my gaze on the kids and avoid glaring at him.
“I’m not contagious,” I finally said, and then, I really couldn’t help fixing him with an unimpressed look. “You’re not going to catch something from me... in fact, I kind of thought that you liked getting touched by me.”
Demetrius glanced furtively around. No one was close enough to hear my whispered words, but he still checked twice.
“It’s not that,” Demetrius eventually whispered back. “I’m just not ready to advertise this.”
I tried to remember what that had been like. It was so long ago that I’d embraced my sexuality. I was ten years older than Demetrius, not to mention I had figured it out a lot younger. As in, I was pretty sure I was thirteen the first time I checked out a guy’s ass. That was, what, twenty-six years ago? Then, I’d still mostly dated girls until Rodrigo, and I’d met him in my twenties. By then, I’d had no fucks to give over the opinions of others. But that was me and my personality. I’d never really cared about pleasing others. Demetrius, on the other hand, had a whole world to conform to. Not to mention a son that had an image of him as the straight-laced father. He hadn’t grown up traveling the world the way I had, where the people you met were only a flash in the pan, gone the next day. His people had stayed. Even the ex had tried to make it last; why else would she have gotten married at such a young age?
I sighed.
“You’re so damn responsible.”
Demetrius frowned at me. I looked at him and met those lovely dark eyes, so full of emotion. I couldn’t even manage to be mad.
Instead, I shrugged, giving in.
“I like you,” I said. “You know, everything doesn’t always have to be so… heavy. Just relax.”
A cheer erupted and I looked over, just in time to catch the tail end of Meech’s team scoring a goal. He looked over at us and I could see his bright smile from where we sat.
I clapped loudly, feeling a bit guilty for missing it and turned my full focus to the game.
CHAPTER 17
DEMETRIUS
Everything doesn’t have to be so heavy? I marched across the parking lot, leaving Miguel to go to his own car. I didn’t look back, more pissed off than I really should have been.
I shoved my son’s extra duffel bag to the side in the trunk of my car, to make room for more gear. But my mind was far away, unable to really find joy in the fact that they won and he looked so happy about it, too, when they hoisted up their trophy.
I wanted to make some kind of witty comeback to Miguel during the rest of the game, but I opted for silence instead. Not because I wanted to leave him in the dark as to what I was thinking, but the fact I was genuinely shocked took my words away.
All I could manage once the game was over was that I’d call him. Then I cheered and snapped a picture of Meechie’s team, sent it to Denise and my family group chat, and then I left to wait for Meechie by the car as we planned.
Miguel probably didn’t mean much by his comments. That I was too responsible. That I was making things heavy by not being more affectionate.
At least, that was how I interpreted what he’d said.
But it didn’t hurt any less. If anything, I thought I was doing both of us a favor. Keeping things light and airy, friendly on the outside, steamy behind closed doors.
So why was he boxing me in, accusing me of treating him like some disease? For fuck’s sake, I was giving him blowjobs in my office! I was so hands on with him at work we’d completely botched the installation of the basement stairs.
How much more “affectionate” could I be?
I scanned the parking lot, as families from the home and away teams loaded up in cars. My son and the kid he’d befriended and had a sleepover with were nowhere in sight. I’d promised to drop them off, but they were probably still in the locker room changing.
Then I froze, feeling a presence at the nape of my neck.
For what felt like the first time, Miguel saw me before I noticed him. His eyes were already on me when I looked up, his hand reaching into his back pocket for his keys. He stopped, making a beeline in my direction.
I didn’t want any drama in front of all these people, seeing as there was a good chance most of them either attended Meech’s school or had a kid there.
Steeling my nerves, all I could think about was how could he not understand why I was trying to be more careful?
Miguel was… out? Was that the right word for it? Openly bi or gay was what I settled on in my mind.
But I wasn’t. Hell, I still couldn’t really wrap my mind around the fact that I was attracted to him. And trust and believe I tried to test out if I had some hidden attraction to men.
Maybe I had just found the wrong kind of porn, but it seemed Miguel was the only one doing it for me for now.
He was my first, and we weren’t in a relationship.
A situationship, at best, fuck buddies at worse. But not a relationship.
He said he liked me, which made my heart squeeze at first. But liking me and loving me were two very different things.
And our sex life was already leaking all over our professional lives. Did it have to spill out on the benches of Meech’s soccer match too? While we still figured things out?
What was so wrong about keeping things on the down low while we were having fun? Loosening up, as he liked to say. Or that word I was starting to hate, learning to relax.
He was the one making things heavy, not me.
“Demetrius,” he said as he reached my side, stopping a few inches away from my face, my back against the closed trunk door.
Miguel looked hurt, like he had all day, and I felt my resolve waver.
Why were things so hard already? Shouldn’t we still be in the puppy love phase still? Puppy lust? Whatever, just not fighting.
Not that I would really know. My one and only relationship began in high school and ended last year, so maybe I was working off a faulty notion of how things worked normally.
“Can we talk about this later, please,” I whispered between clenched teeth as gently as I could. “I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to fight.”
Any more teeth clenching, and I’d have to tack on a dentist bill to my running expenses.
“We’re not arguing,” he insisted, despite everything in his body language to his tone screaming the opposite.
Please be for real!
I didn’t say it out loud, lest I escalate things further, but I wanted to. We were arguing. It was obvious by the way some people shot us lingering looks.
“Let’s talk later…”
“Why can’t we talk right now?” he demanded.
Why is he being so direct all of a sudden?
“Are you sure we should? It feels like we’re arguing.”
“We’re not.” This time I could hear the anger in his voice.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If he could be serious for one damn minute. Pretending we weren’t arguing didn’t magically make this not an argument.
I hated fighting. Hated misunderstandings. Detested going to bed mad at someone…
Someone I liked a lot. It was way too early to even be fighting.
“Okay.” My tone was flat, noncommittal. I just wanted whatever this was to be over.
He groaned, nearly ripping his hair from his scalp by how hard he brushed his hair.
I was starting to feel boxed in by his presence, shooting desperate glances over his shoulder. But Meech wasn’t running up to my rescue anytime soon.
How did things take such a hard, sharp turn for the worse?
I didn’t want to apologize. What had I done wrong? But I felt I needed to, even if I didn’t want to. Anything to avoid this… tension that was making me feel sick.
“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry and we’ll talk later and I’ll stop… overthinking.”
There, that should do it.
But to my dismay, that seemed to make Miguel even more… worried. Hurt? Confused?
Maybe all three.
“Why are you apologizing? Do you even know?”
“Of course I do. You… No, I have been avoiding too much PDA. I get it. I just didn’t appreciate what you said, was all. But I get it! I won’t avoid you. I didn’t think I was being that obvious, okay.”
“What?”
“Saying I was making things heavy.”
“I never said that! I said everything doesn’t have to be so heavy for you. You’re always stuck in that big head of yours. You’re always overthinking things.”
I squinted, not knowing if I should laugh because he said I had a big head or overthink some more.
“What do you want?” He reached for me, tugging on my fingertips. “It’s a simple question. I’m not asking you to propose, Demetrius. Relax.”
This time I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“I’m trying, but you’re going to give me a heart attack if you try to kiss me in the parking lot of my son’s school. Let’s make up somewhere more private, hm?”
“Who said I was trying to kiss you?” Miguel tried to sound offended, but the proximity of his face to mine and how conflicted his eyes were told two different stories. “You’re not listening to me.”
My eyes drifted to my back pocket. Meechie was probably texting me. The coast was clear now, most of the parking lot empty.
I took a chance to get closer, and Miguel seized it as always, pulling me in.
He was getting on my nerves with his lack of respect for the concept of personal space, but it wasn’t like I could stay mad. I was just as addicted to his tender touch as he seemed to be. I was just ten times more aware of who was and wasn’t paying attention.
“I know what I want. I want us to…” My voice failed me.
“To what?” He tried to get me to press on, squeezing my hand slightly.
Date died on my lips before I could even form the word. What if he said he wasn’t interested? Or gave me that exasperated look again, that I was over-complicating everything.
He’d just make more accusations, get more distant, look at me like I was being annoying.
And I didn’t want that. I wanted him to look at me like I meant everything to him, to hold me close and kiss me so hard it felt like he was desperate and I was the only one who could make him feel good.
I tried to search Miguel’s eyes for an answer, for confirmation that he might feel the same way, but I only found more questions reflected back at me.
What was the opposite of heavy? Light, right? So I’d keep things light.
“I want us to… be together. To have fun. Relax. Get closer. Eat lunch together. Explore the town some more. Have more amazing sex but not fuck up our client’s house in the process. Is that all doable, you think? I’m sorry, okay? I just need to take things slow.” And I put extra emphasis on slow. “And then we can figure out the hard parts later.”
I continued with a shaky breath, “You wear your heart on your sleeve. I don’t think you notice how… obvious we seem to everybody.”
“Who cares what other people think if this is what we want? We’re both adults.”
He made a very good point. But I did care what other people thought of us, about me. And what if someday we stopped this, what then? I was getting ahead of myself, I knew that. But just because all that didn’t matter to him, it didn’t change the fact that it did to me.
“I get it, but I don’t really know anyone out here. I don’t… want to make things harder for him more than me.”
I scanned the parking lot again. Empty. Good.
Miguel took a second to process what I was saying, and then his whole demeanor changed, his gaze less conflicted, more gentle.
“People can be more accepting than you think,” he said with a sigh. “Gaynor Beach isn’t as close minded as you probably think. It’ll be okay.”
I just nodded in return.
“I want us to get closer. I want you, Miguel. But let’s just take things slow.”
Miguel didn’t seem satisfied with that, but he relented nonetheless. But as he went to leave, to pull away, he hesitated, so I closed the distance between our lips, savoring his taste, and his scent before he pulled away with a grin, still hugging.
But as we parted fully, the loss of his warmth left me shivering in the autumn cold. My heart was racing, faster than my thoughts. And despite every attempt to avoid the obvious, I knew I was falling head over heels for Miguel.
But I couldn’t press my luck. I couldn’t destroy something else that felt so good in my life. I would take things slow, and hopefully, one day, he’d see that we could be so much more. That a relationship, even settling down, didn’t have to be heavy.
I pulled him in close. “Think I should see if Meechie wants to hang out with his friends tonight?”
He tilted his head to the side slightly, hair in his eyes, and I could feel my heart in my throat. Was I coming on too hard after what was most definitely our first fight, no matter how he spun it?
“You don’t have to stay the night! Just come over for a little while.”
Spontaneous, unlike me. Opening up way too much, too, which was scary.
I felt a sense of relief wash over me when he finally nodded enthusiastically.
“Lead the way.”
CHAPTER 18
MIGUEL
Demetrius’ house was just like the man himself: orderly and clean with a hint of warmth underlying. Nothing was out of place, but the couch was comfortable, with thick cushions, and the throw and pillows looked well worn. There was a light scent of spice in the air, like cinnamon candles or pumpkin lattes.
The Demetrius I knew behind closed doors was warm and open and sexual behind an orderly exterior, and I loved that his place was the same way.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked.
I nodded, if only so I could snoop on his kitchen too.
It looked so much more lived in than my place. His house was probably older than mine was, but it wasn’t that. This was where Meech had left his school project on the table. There were a couple dishes in the sink, magnets and pictures on the fridge, including one of him, Meech, and his mother. I remembered her from the picture Demetrius showed me at the pier with her co-worker.
They made a beautiful family, and Meech looked a bit younger with the type of huge smile that he rarely gave now.
“It must be hard on him,” I said.
Demetrius glanced over from pouring a glass of wine and saw what I was looking at.
“It is. They FaceTime, but it’s not the same. He’s always sad after they hang up their calls.”
“What about you?” I asked.
He handed over a glass and I took it, swishing it while I watched him.
He smiled.
“To be honest, I don’t really want to talk about my ex-wife anymore. Not with you.”
I was stung for a moment until I saw the look in his eyes.
“Oh, I see. You would rather I help you forget her?” I teased.
A slow, sensuous smile lifted his lips, and I nearly dropped my glass, I forgot about it so fast.
I set it down and reached out, catching him by the front of his shirt, and tugged him in. My arms went around him, pulling his warm body tight against mine with a soft moan.
“How do you always feel so good?” I grumbled. “So sexy even with all your clothes on.”
I kissed him and he melted into my embrace, his lips parting and tongue sliding against mine, quickly turning it filthy.
“Couch,” I mumbled into his mouth, pushing him in that direction, but he fought against me, eventually pulling away and gripping me by the hand.
