Chapter 18
Once Luke had escaped and locked himself in whatever room he was going to be in for who knew how long, Mikey decided he was going to have to amuse himself for the time being.
He still had absolutely no idea what was going on with Luke, and he had even less no idea what was going to happen with them during the coming week.
At first, he’d thought the two of them were actually getting along and he might be making some headway, but then he’d said that stupid thing about Luke Carter liking trouble, and everything had gone to shit.
This is why your mother always told you to be careful what you say, he thought, then mentally kicked himself for thinking about her at a time like this.
It was getting pretty late in the afternoon and, since Luke showed no signs of coming out of his room–maybe he’d just stay there for the rest of the time they were supposed to be together–Mikey decided to just go to the guest bedroom.
Once there, though, he was more tired than he thought.
Apparently fucking things up with the guy you were trying to get with, the same guy whose heart you’d broken a decade earlier, was very exhausting.
I’m really getting soft, he thought, as he lay down on the bed and put his head on the pillow.
When he woke up, it was clearly several hours later, at least judging from the fact the sun had gone down and the room was completely cast in shadow.
Damn, he thought. How long was I out?
The entire house was quiet, so quiet Mikey got the feeling Luke might have abandoned him altogether. Of course, he didn’t think Luke would do something like that, but people could change a lot in a decade.
He got slowly out of bed, his curiosity getting the better of him.
He had no idea what he was going to do, but as he turned on the lamp and started groping his way toward the door he suddenly knew he was going to find Luke wherever he was and ask him just what the hell was going on.
What game was he playing, anyway, acting like this?
It was pretty inconsiderate to just leave Mikey hanging, with no indication of what he was supposed to do.
Mikey made his way through the house until he came to Luke’s bedroom and, for a split second, he thought about not opening it. This was clearly Luke’s way of telling him he wasn’t interested, but something pulled his hand toward the doorknob anyway.
He turned it, stuck his head in, and saw Luke sprawled out on his bed. He was sound asleep, of course, and his vulnerability made him ache. Mikey’s annoyance and frustration dissipated, and he remembered why he was here in the first place, to try to rebuild something with the man he loved.
What is wrong with me? He thought.
The more he looked at Luke, though, the more he found his mind wandering to the past, to those rare moments when Luke would let his walls down and let Mikey see the sensitive soul beneath. Could he somehow convince Luke to show that part of himself again?
I really am hopelessly naive, he thought.
He stood for another few minutes, just drinking in the sight of Luke, and then he slowly made his way back to the guest bedroom.
Despite uncertainty about the week to come, he couldn’t help thinking about what a future with Luke might look like, the two of them forging a creative and romantic partnership.
Of course, he was aware of the danger. Music history was filled with examples of people who’d tried to put their personal and professional lives together, and for a time it might work, but in the end it almost inevitably ended up being a disaster.
Did he really want to run the risk it might happen with them, too?
Yes, he thought at once. I messed up once, but I don’t have to do it again.
It was a cute thought, and it filled him with the very particular kind of warmth he’d only known a few times in his life. As he got back into bed, however, he couldn’t sleep, because he kept thinking: Are you sure you’re ready?
Mikey tossed and turned, and once he even about going back to Luke’s room, waking him up, and asking him straight out whether he was imagining everything, but he quickly dismissed the idea.
He could just picture the look on the other man’s face if Mikey showed up in his room in the middle of the night without warning.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he managed to get at least a little bit of sleep. Even as he dozed off, though, he still found himself thinking about Luke’s eyes, the way they held him, the way they contained so much sadness and yet, deep inside, some joy too.
He fell asleep.
Mikey woke the next morning to the smell of eggs and bacon.
Is he going to serve me breakfast in bed? He thought, then immediately laughed at himself. Of all the things Luke Carter was likely to do, serving him, Mikey Smiles, breakfast in bed was almost certainly dead last on the list.
Indeed, a few seconds later Luke knocked on the door and, when Mikey didn’t get up fast enough, actually opened it and poked his head in.
“We follow farm hours around here,” he said. “So if you want some breakfast before it’s all gone, I suggest you get your ass downstairs.”
Mikey threw a pillow at the door, but Luke closed it quickly before it managed to hit him.
“You could’ve at least knocked!” Mikey shouted. “I could’ve been naked or all you know!”
He might have been mistaken, but he could swear he heard Luke chuckle from the other side of the door, and it made him feel all kinds of things, things he probably shouldn’t be feeling.
A short time later he managed to get himself dressed–just a T-shirt and a pair of joggers–and dragged himself downstairs, even though it was way earlier than he was used to getting up.
When he saw the breakfast spread Luke had prepared–in addition to the eggs and bacon there were also biscuits, pancakes, and a large bowl of fruit salad–his eyes almost bugged out of his head.
“How’d you manage to get all of this put together? And how long did it take you?”
Luke gave him a level look as he poured them both cups of coffee and gestured for him to sit down.
“I told you, we follow farm hours around here. I’ve been up for a couple of hours already.”
Luke was dressed in his usual outfit–plain white T-shirt and tight jeans–but somehow he made it look good. He was, Mikey reflected, the very picture of country masculinity, and it…well, it did it for him, that was for sure.
They both took their seats and began to eat, and for once they actually managed to engage in small talk. It was surprisingly easy and comfortable to talk like this, neither of them with any expectations or goals, just two guys talking about life in general.
Neither of them said it, but they seemed to have reached an agreement they weren’t going to talk about music just yet.
That particular subject would bring them too close to stuff neither of them were quite ready to talk about because it might put an end to the little bit of peace they’d been able to find.
Finally, though, breakfast was done, and so they started edging closer and closer to the edge of the stuff they were trying to avoid.
Instead of dealing with any of that, though, Mikey went the well-traveled route of sarcasm.
“I didn’t really peg you for the domestic kind,” he said. “Not to stereotype or anything.”
“For not stereotyping,” Luke said dryly, “you sure are doing a lot of stereotyping.”
Mikey could've kicked himself. Somehow, when it came to Luke Carter, he always managed to say exactly the wrong thing.
I’ve really got to learn how to actually talk to him.
Instead of falling down a rabbit hole of self-recrimination, however, he just shrugged.
“Sorry, but remember, I knew you from way back when, and even then you weren’t the type to make breakfast or,” and here he looked around at the rest of the cabin, which really was quite well put together, “keep a place like this clean for more than five minutes. What changed?”
The question was a simple one, but the air was now charged.
It occurred to Mikey–hit him in a way it hadn’t before–just how many years separated the two of them from what they’d been before.
The last time they’d spent any real time together, the last time they’d actually shared anything with each other, they’d been teenagers.
Now, they were in their twenties, and so much stood between them.
He thought briefly of all the times he’d seen Luke from afar–on TV at awards shows, during interviews and once, though Luke didn’t know it, at one of his concerts–and sadness hit him.
For so long he’d yearned for Luke Carter, and now…
well, now they were together, but he could still feel the gap between them.
For a few seconds Luke just looked at him, really looked, and Mikey felt like he was drowning, like Luke’s eyes were pulling him in and were never going to let him go.
I’m in so much trouble, he thought.
Finally, Luke answered.
“I decided I was tired of relyin’ on other people to do my work for me,” he said, so softly and deliberately it was like he was measuring out each word, making sure each of them landed just the way he wanted them to.
I wish I was efficient with my words, Mikey thought.
“Go on,” he said, suddenly desperate to learn more about Luke, to learn everything about him, really, from the way he thought to the way he moved through the world. This Luke was an enigma he didn’t quite understand, but he wanted to. Just as importantly, he wanted Luke to want to share with him.
After another bit of silence, Luke finally shrugged.
“Okay, fine,” he said, “come into the living room and we’ll talk.”
Mikey was so stunned at the abrupt change that for a second he just stood there.
“Well?” Luke said, when he didn’t budge. “Are you gonna come, or are you just gonna stand there all day?”