Chapter 21
Evan
Luca takes a sip of his coffee and then sets it down a little too firmly. “About last night,” he says, and I take a breath as he brings up the topic.
We’d both woken up roughly at the same time, which is unusual Luca always wakes up way before me. He must have been as close to exhausted as I was from the night before. He’d reached out and gently caressed my jaw. “Are you alright?”
My jaw was sore and my whole body ached from last night, but it was minor, and more than worth it for the pleasure I’d experienced.
“I’m fine,” I’d told him, and then he’d kissed me and we’d gotten up, showered, and sat down for our morning coffee as usual.
But there was a tension in the air. Most of it was probably caused by my self-doubts, which had come back in double force this morning as images of me on my knees being dominated by Luca both excited me and filled me with worry that it had been too much for Luca.
That my neediness would send him running before we got the call that it was safe for me to return to Chicago.
“Did you hate it?” I can’t help rushing out, unable to wait for him to finish his sentence.
Luca looks at me stunned. “Fuck no.” My muscles relax, but go back to rigid when he speaks again. “But I think we both know our little game went further than either of us expected last night.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, mournfully.” I started it.”
“Evan.” Luca picks my hand up in his. “If it was anybody’s fault, it was mine. I shoulda known, the way I feel about— that, that scene could get out of control. I should have been more prepared for how it intense it became.”
“What do you mean?”
“We had no safe words set up between us. This morning, I was worried I could have hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I hurry to assure him.
“Good.” He squeezes my hand. “But I’m not sure about that. I think afterward you were experiencing sub drop, and as your partner, it’s my job to keep that from happening.”
Two words stand out in Luca’s sentence. First of all, sub drop.
I knew what it meant. As a gay man with a stash of several genres of MM romances on my Kindle, I’d read about the kink scene, but with only a bland collection of college and Grindr hookups, who I’d never trust to put me in fuzzy handcuffs; I’d never thought it would ever apply to me.
And then, Luca’s use of the word partner. It made my heart clench.
“Next time—”
“You want there to be a next time?”
Luca’s eyes smolder as he stares at my mouth, and I wonder if he’s remembering last night. “Definitely, if it’s something you would like to happen again.”
“I would,” I tell him. “But…”
“You can tell me.”
“I want that again,” I tell him, almost squirming at the idea of experiencing that again with Luca.
Of giving myself so completely to him again.
“But, not all the time.” Luca and I have come together in so many different ways and different moods, I don’t want one way exclusively over any other. They’re all incredible.
Luca smiles. “I feel the same way. I just want us to be prepared next time it goes to a kinkier space so you’re protected.”
And in that sentence, my mind focuses on the word next time. If Luca isn’t careful about the way he’s throwing that word about, I’m gonna start believing we have a lot of next times between us.
Luca’s phone rings. “It’s Grave,” he announces, which is pretty normal as he usually calls every day with insider updates from Archie Hendrix on whichever new indictment is being handed down against the Reivers.
They chat for a minute, and then Luca’s face freezes. He listens a bit more then hangs up the phone.
I know what that phone call was about.
“When?” I ask, not sure if I can manage not choking on any longer of a sentence.
“Your lawyer told Hendrix you need to be in Chicago on Monday to meet with the FBI,” Luca tells me, his voice neutral.
I look at him. There’s no reaction on his face to the news either.
Of course, there’s not. For Luca, all this news means is he’ll be taking Yogi and together they’ll be finding his next place on the map.
I pull my hand from his and stand up. “Guess I’d better start packing,” I say.
I’d known this was coming, I remind myself. Don’t let it ruin the two days you have left with him.
But it hurts even more than I thought it would, and I’m having a really hard time acting like I’m not destroyed and heartsick in this one-room cabin that offers no place to hide.
Fortunately, Luca didn’t protest when I asked him to leave me behind for the morning walk with Delilah and Yogi. It gives me time to work on the mask I need to put on for him. I also need to do something I’m not good at.
“I pick up the phone and select a name of my short contacts list. It rings endlessly and I decide to hang up. It’s probably for the best.
“Bestie,” Dream’s voice comes over the phone, the sound of a musical playing in the background — maybe Westside Story.
“I need a friend,” I blurt into the phone, and try not to hang up with the expectation that Dream will laugh at me for having the nerve to call him my friend.
“It’s about time, Dream says. “I’ve been waiting for your call since our dinner together. “What do you need from me, love?”
“I love him and he’s going to leave me,” I tell Dream in summary.
To his credit, Dream doesn’t seem to mind coming in toward the end of the story. “Did he tell you he was leaving?”
“No. I didn’t give him a chance to.”
“Then how do you know he’s leaving you?” Dream asks.
‘Because he’s a rolling stone and he needs to get to the next place on the map.” I tell him like it should explain everything.
There’s a silence on the other end. “Okay, he declares. “This phone convo is going to require a serious intervention.” He whispers something I can’t quite make out and I hear him moving. “I’m taking you into my bedroom with me in case you want to share some down and dirty bits about you and Luka.”
I realize I’ve interrupted his night. “I’m sorry I should let you go. I’ve obviously called you while you were busy.”
“Don’t you dare hang up the phone,” Dream orders, and I hesitate putting my thumb on the end call button. “You’re my friend and that means you have twenty-four-seven access if you need me.”
I close my eyes, completely undone by Dream’s easy generosity. I’ve never had someone who wasn’t a therapist to turn to before when my emotions have me more twisted than one of Luca’s advanced yoga poses.
“Now, go ahead and tell me everything,” Jazz demands, and I do. In a rapid release of words and emotions, I lay my messy story out to him.
When I finally finish, Dream remains quiet. “What do you think?” I ask.
“ I think you’re being a dumbass.”
“What?”
“You’re being a dumbass,” he repeats more slowly as if I hadn’t heard him the first time. “But don’t take it too bad. People falling in love are quite often dumbasses, including me.”
“You were a dumbass?”
“First degree,” Dream admits. “I was so scared and sure Jack, who I was still calling Grave back then, couldn’t really love me, I ran away from him a couple of times. “Total dumbass move.”
“But Jack really loves you,” I point out. “I have a completely different situation going on.”
“But you don’t,” Dream insists. “This is where your dumbassery comes into play. By your account, Luca has risked his life for you and reigned holy hell down on the men who tried to hurt you. He fucks you into the mattress any chance he gets. And he seems totally down to play house in that little one-bed cabin in the woods with your fur babies. What makes you so sure he wants to leave you to go be a rolling stone, whatever the fuck that means?”
I listen to Dream’s words. Could he be right?
“But Luca never said he wanted anything more?”
“He’s probably suffering from the same case of advanced dumbassery as you are. The only cure is for you to go find him right now and tell him you love him.”
My whole body seizes in total rejection of that idea. I can’t make myself vulnerable that way. No one has ever wanted my love. Why should Luca be any different?
“I can’t do that,” I say in a small voice.
“You have to, or you’re going to spend your whole life wondering what would have happened if you’d been brave enough to put yourself on the line?”
I don’t say anything, too busy almost having a panic attack at the idea of telling Luca I love him.
“Look, if the worst happens and Luca is a total idiot and rejects you, I’ll make Jack kick his ass, and you and I will have nightly cry fests until your heart patches itself up again.”
I’m beyond moved that Dream would be willing to help me that way.
“But think about if it works, and he tells you he loves you right back.”
I do what Dream tells me and think about the life I could have with Luca if he loved me.
It looks a lot like the one we’ve been living in the cabin but I know despite Dream’s encouragement, it’s just a pipedream.
I’m not good-looking enough. I’m not special enough.
I’m not confident enough for Luca to love me.
I sum it all up in one easy sentence for Dream. “ I don’t deserve for Luca to love me.”
“I get that feeling, Evan, I really do.” Until Jack, all I had in my life was a mother who abandoned me and a string of loser boyfriends. I fought Jack long and hard before he convinced me I was worthy of his love, and then it took me a while to believe I could really keep it.”
I’d only seen Jack and Dream together that one night, but it was clear how much Jack adored his boyfriend. “He’s crazy about you.”
“He really is,” Dream says and I can almost see the lovesick smile on his face when he says it. “ But that’s what I’m trying to make you see. I’m a mouthy, skinny-ass street kid who didn’t even make it to high school. I don’t deserve the love of a man like Jack Navarro.”
“ Of course, you do,” I say, hurrying to defend Dream against himself. “Jack doesn’t need you to be anything, but who you are to deserve him.”
“Exactly,” Dream says catching me in a logic trap he clearly set me up to fall into.” Just like Luca doesn’t need you to be anybody other than the guy he’s spent the last month and a half with for you to deserve him.”
Is Dream right? Can love really be that simple?
“I should get off the phone,” I tell Dream “I think I need to talk to Luca.”