Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Randall
How was it possible that the most intense sexual experience of my life was followed by me lying to my best friend?
Not that I would have shared that with him either way, but still, I had never been a big fan of lying, to the extent that I was genuinely impressed with the levels my ex-husband had gone to in sneaking around on me.
Standing in front of my old friend, I felt like I was surrounded by tiny neon signs that flashed the word SEX in rainbow-bright colors.
I was sure that I smelled and looked exactly like what had just happened between Austin and me.
Inside, I was smiling at the notion and the memory, sheer desire still thrumming through me.
Not even almost getting caught could tame it.
And underneath all of that, Austin had set up our little scene as more than just a charged sexual encounter; he had done it as a show of support for my having to find time to work.
In the few short days we had known each other, he had been more supportive of my career than David had been in fifteen years.
Foolishly, my hand found its way to the back of my neck, hiding the evidence too late.
I turned and continued up the stairs, Austin’s fading voice teasing, “Dad used to jog? I don’t believe it.
” I turned once more on the stairs, but my laughing eyes found only Martin, Austin having continued on to the kitchen to help his mom.
Luckily, Martin thought the eyes were for him. He patted his protruding stomach.
“Not much jogging going on here. I’ll trim up a bit in the summer; I’m on my feet at the restaurant for hours on end.”
“You look good, Marty. And the way Steph looks at you? Well, it’s just the way I remember her looking at you.” It felt good to think about the two of them back then and not think about how jealous and forlorn I’d been when we were in college. “You’re a lucky man, Martin. And I am happy for you.”
“And you look great, too, Randy. Like, really great. And you should be happy too! So …”
We were on the landing, and I tried to keep my distance from Martin and inch my way to the bathroom, but clearly Martin wanted to talk.
“So?” I asked.
“What did you think of Turner?”
“Mart.”
“No, really, Randy. I know you were always shy, and I guess I know now why you never dated when we were kids, but …”
My eyes went wide. Had he figured out about my secret crush from back then? He must have clocked my look because he clarified, “I mean, because you weren’t out.”
“Oh, right. Obviously.”
He took a step forward and some instinctive part of me knew it would be suspicious if I tried to back up again.
Martin hugged me, and I stiffened, but he wouldn’t let go until I hugged him back.
“I wish you’d told us. You deserved better, man. You deserved friends you could come out to. I’m sorry you didn’t have that.”
“Martin, it’s very kind of you to say that, but you shouldn’t feel any guilt.
My choices were my own back then. The choice not to tell you, the decision to move to England.
Cutting myself off from my extended family after Mom died.
David. I take responsibility for it all.
My decisions are my own.” And I’d made some bad ones over the years, but they’d all led me to that moment, in that house, with my oldest friends and a man I didn’t think I could ever do without.
I may have let out a little gasp while holding on to my old friend.
The realization was somewhat overwhelming.
Martin took a step back, thank God, and we were silent for a moment as he tried to figure me out.
“You’re right!” Martin’s exuberance knew no bounds, and he failed to notice the epiphany I was having.
“The past is the past, and … we’re your family now, Randy.
Always have been, and I’m just so glad you're back. And as your family, as your brother, it is incumbent upon me to see to your happiness. So, should I invite Turner to dinner tonight?”
“No!” I all but shouted, reining it in at the last moment, feeling the heat rise on the back of my neck once again. I sighed and looked at my friend.
“I think …” An image of Austin tossing a snowball at me flashed before my eyes. We couldn’t stay inside that snow globe forever, but forever is what I wanted with him. I knew that, and if it turned out that was what he really wanted, maybe I should be open to giving it a try.
“You mean it, don’t you?” I asked seriously. “That you want me to be happy?” I looked closely into those eyes that were nothing at all like Austin’s.
“Of course, Randall.”
“I think I may be on the way to it, Mart. I don’t need you to set me up.”
“Yeah?” Martin had a sparkle in his eye that I hoped more than believed he’d still have if he knew who I was talking about.
“Yeah,” I responded more solemnly than I had intended. “I’m going to go shower now,” I said, turning to finally take myself out of the situation and to wash the cum off my person.
“Yeah, me too,” he said before adding, “Hey, there’s that red mark again. It’s like a walk down memory lane, man.”
“Truth be told, old friend, that beer belly of yours kinda reminds me of old times as well.”
I texted Austin as soon as I was showered and changed, assuming he was as anxious as I had been to rinse off any evidence of our tryst. I added that it was too risky for us to fool around again in his parents’ home.
The Stanger: Forgive me if I avoid you for the rest of the week. It’s damn near impossible to be in this room and not think about … well, you know.
The Excuse: Yeah, that was a close call. Just know, it’s not going to be easy.
The Excuse: Hey, don’t forget the shit we kicked under your bed!
The Excuse: God damn it, now I’m thinking about that toy again.
The Stranger: Austin …
The Excuse: It’s gonna be a long week.
What else was there to say? I gave that text a thumbs-up and rehearsed excuses for keeping my distance from everyone in that house.
We had dinner that night at Martin’s restaurant. Turner had not joined us, but the restaurant manager, Preston, served us personally and may have been flirting with me.
If it had been some other situation, I might have found a little bit of ego-boosting pleasure in the way Austin was bristling.
I had to stop myself a million times from reaching a hand out to him to assure him that Preston’s attention meant nothing.
Steph may have noticed my hand twitching after the appetizers were delivered to our table, and she definitely noticed Austin’s mood.
“Everything okay, Aus? Did you want an order of potato skins? I know they used to be your favorite.” Austin was staring at Preston’s back as he walked away.
“Huh? Oh, no, thanks, Mom. I’ve been craving nachos all day. This hits the spot.” He wrangled a cheesy chip from the pile and held it up. We watched the cheese slowly drip before Austin bent his head under it and opened wide.
I couldn’t quite hold in the sharp intake of breath that triggered in me. Steph’s eyes narrowed at me, but it was Marty who spoke next as he grabbed a chip of his own.
“Dive in, you two, before we clear this plate on you. Do they have nachos in England, Randy? Can you get them at the pub?” He said those last few words in a terrible British accent.
I ignored that. “Yeah, actually, there’s a place I used to love in Notting Hill …”
“Notting Hill!” Marty enthused. I snuck a look at Austin, who was busy eyeing Preston as he scurried around the restaurant. “Like, with Julie Roberts? Or I guess in your case, with Hugh Grant. Nachos with Hugh Grant. Sounds delightful and surprisingly British.”
“I’ve never been much of a fan of those romantic movies,” I responded, trying to get Austin’s attention. “Until recently.” He glanced my way, raising his eyebrows. I widened my eyes in silent communication back.
After our early dinner, Marty and Austin got up to help the small staff with the remaining customers. Steph jumped up right after they left and made a motion for me not to follow. She placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to get us drinks. Be right back.”
Steph returned, slamming two bottles of IPA on the table and sitting opposite me. “Romantic movies, huh?”
“We’re in our forties, Steph. It can’t be all sci-fi and superheroes, now can it?”
Her tone and demeanor softened. “I mean, for Marty? Probably yes!”
I laughed along with her. “Definitely yes.”
“I’m sorry about your divorce, Randy.”
“Don’t be, Steph. I’m not. In some ways it feels like a lifetime ago. It certainly was an ocean away.”
“Marty said you might be seeing someone?” Austin happened to be passing by with an armful of food as she said it, and both Steph and I just happened to look up as he did so. I was really not made for subterfuge.
“Did he, now?” I responded.
She gave me a look that I hadn’t known when we were younger. This was the banking executive, or the mother, looking at me. It felt like an inquisition.
“Steph. I came here to visit with my old friends. Not to have every eligible bachelor paraded in front of me. I’m …
I’ve been perfectly happy all alone in my cabin in the woods.
” Not untrue. “And when I’m ready, with any luck, I’ll find an eligible bachelor on my own.
Not everyone is as lucky as you and Mart. ”
Her eyes narrowed, but then her face lightened. “We never forget that we have you to thank for that. Marty wears his heart on his sleeve, but he would return that favor if he could.”
It was Preston’s turn to walk past us. He deposited two more beers, unbidden. “I know, Steph. And I may”—I chose my words cautiously—“I might just take him up on that someday. But that day isn’t today. And the guy isn’t Turner.”
Marty was running past us with a tray of drinks, but he stopped. “Oh good, I asked Pres to bring you guys another round. It’s the holidays! We deserve to party like a bunch of college kids.” He took a sip of Steph’s beer and continued on, “Hey, Aus. You driving tonight?”