CHAPTER 5
ROMAN
Standing outside a nondescript red brick building housing the LGBTQ+ center, I look around and take it all in. There is a basketball court to the left that looks new and there are two teenagers scuffling over the ball with huge smiles on their faces. Not wanting to look like a creeper just standing here watching teen boys playing basketball, I turn to the steps leading up to the front entrance. I had expected huge rainbow flags and inspirational quotes or murals but there is nothing loud or colorful about this building. The only thing distinguishing it as the center is the chrome plaque on the wall by the doors. My brow creases trying to figure out why they would choose to be so unremarkable when they do such incredible work for the community.
Lost in my musings I don’t notice the door opening or the man in the beige khakis and sweater-vest now leaning against the handrail at the top of the steps watching me.
“Wondering where all the glitter is?” he asks with a knowing smirk. Perhaps I'm not the only person to question the lack of vibrancy that is usually associated with the LGBTQ+ community. “We used to have every flag of the alphabet army displayed proudly.” He gestures above his head to the front wall of the building and then I notice the empty flagpole holders still in place.
“They were either stolen or set alight. Unfortunately, it is cheaper to stay under the radar. Those who need us know where we are.” I nod in understanding.
“Roman.” I extend my hand in a greeting, which he accepts without hesitation.
“Derek, nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Are you new in town?” he asks with a friendly smile, seeming to be actually interested.
“Um, returning home type of situation,” I say, my hand rubbing the back of my neck that feels hot to the touch. I'm not sure if it's the line of questioning or the summer heat and leather jacket combo. Either way, I’m extremely uncomfortable.
“Ah okay, that's cool. Do you want to come inside and grab a cup of coffee?” he offers, pushing off the handrail and walking toward the doors. I feel the panic setting in. This is what I came here for, get it together, Roman. I wanted to talk to somebody here and see if there was anything I could do to help. Knowing I need to explain my felony before I step inside a building that's used as a safe place for kids is making my palms sweat. Maybe this is a bad idea. This guy is going to lock the doors on me.
My face flames hotter as I shuffle from foot to foot keeping my eyes on the sidewalk.
“I, um, just got out of prison. I understand if you would rather me not go inside, but I did come here to volunteer, if… if that's allowed.” I don’t think I have ever struggled to get words out the way I am right now. I can’t explain why this feels important, but if this guy who doesn’t even know me turns me away right now, I might die of embarrassment and shame. This center and the work they do here calls to me. I want to be a part of something good and productive for the LGBTQ+ community.
“Okay, well, you can’t complete the volunteer form from the sidewalk. Come on in, there might still be some breakfast sandwiches if we are lucky.” My head snaps up so fast I almost knock myself off balance. I’m not sure that this guy heard what I said and I attempt to repeat myself but Derek smiles at me and motions for me to follow him.
“Come inside, Roman, let’s talk.”
It had taken all of fifteen minutes for me to relax enough with a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, to start my story. I’m not even sure why I felt the need to tell Derek the truth of what happened when I didn’t feel the need to tell my parole officer, but by the time I'm done, I’m glad I opened up to him. Not once did his face or tone make me feel like I was crazy. He didn't ask me if I was sure I hadn’t misinterpreted Terry’s feelings or actions toward me. He just nodded along and validated how I was feeling. Derek is just one of those people who offers an ear without judgment.
For the first time since I left my cell, I feel hope and I know deep in my soul this is where I need to be. So, I complete the volunteer forms and I provide all of the details from my convictions and my parole. By the time I am leaving the center I’m feeling lighter than air and have a skip in my step.
Getting to my brother’s after walking back from the center, I’m greeted by an amazing aroma. Holy shit, something smells so good. Hopefully some of that is for me.
“Hey, where have you been? I've been texting you all day,” Ryan asks, placing his hands on his hips. He’s wearing the most ridiculous apron with a naked, very well-endowed guy on it from the neck down like an illusion that it's Ryan's body. It’s extremely hard to take him seriously right now but I manage to answer him without laughing.
“I went to the LGBTQ+ center after I left Savage Ink. I wanted to see if they would be willing to let me volunteer. I read the letter on the wall at the shop from that kid, Lucas, and I dunno, I just knew I needed to go there.” I shrug, looking down because now I'm saying it out loud it sounds kinda stupid.
“Wow, Ro, that's amazing. I’m sure they will be happy to take all the help they can get.” He crosses the room and pats my arm affectionately. “Next time though, could you maybe answer your damn phone?” he suggests and I tap my pocket to check if the thing is even still in there. My mom had a phone ready and waiting for me when I came home that first night. Just another reason she is the MVP of life.
“Dude, I went fifteen years without a phone, I forgot it was there.” I laugh as Drew walks in the door behind me and raises a brow at us having some kind of moment at the front door. Moving around my body he drops a kiss on Ryan’s cheek and I don’t miss the way my brother practically beams with happiness.
“I’ll shower and then help with dinner, sweetheart.” He winks and heads upstairs while Ryan watches his every step until he disappears. I feel a pang of longing. This is what I have always wanted. A guy to look at me the way Drew looks at my brother and to be as happy as Ryan is to see his man. I doubt I’ll find that kind of relationship with the U-Haul of baggage I'm carrying around with me but it's nice to dream. Knocking at the door brings us both back to reality.
“Who the fuck is that?” I don’t think he's actually asking me so I don’t respond, just move to the side for him to answer the door. Not wanting to lurk behind him I head into the kitchen to wash up for dinner.
“No fucking way, Carter.” I turn around at my brother’s words but instead of seeing him I see Tatts standing in the doorway to the living room holding up a cake box in one hand and a dog leash in the other looking mighty pleased with himself.
CARTER
I am a genius. I am a certified genius. My Mensa acceptance letter is in the mail. After Ryan and Drew both blocked me — which was an overreaction if I had ever seen one, unfortunately, it isn’t the first time I've been in text jail, only ever lasting twenty-four hours, at least — I knew I needed to put my thinking cap on. I needed to see Roman again and clearly my best friend was not going to be my wingman this time. I have no idea where Roman is staying so I can't just turn up at his place and hypnotize him with my incredible nipples so I need to try again with Ryan. Maybe I can trick him into telling me where Roman is staying or where I might find him. Having overheard Ryan earlier talking about how he's cooking Drew dinner tonight and needed to slip off early to go to the store for supplies, a plan formed in my mind. A genius plan.
I’m not sure that Ryan appreciates my genius when I walk into his place ignoring him saying no. My English bulldog Hulk follows behind me like the good boy he is. I left work a while ago and headed to the bakery. Ryan and Drew both have a major sweet tooth so what better way to bribe them into helping me pursue Roman than to bring them a cake. I even had a message written on it. Then I rushed home to grab Hulk because he loves visiting his brothers, Thor and Loki, and nobody would stop a family reunion like that.
What I hadn’t planned for was Roman himself stepping out of the kitchen with a perplexed look on his face as I held up the cake box. Thankfully, he can’t see what I have written on it. I'm not sure ‘Please help me bone your brother’ is the romantic message I want him to read at this early stage in our relationship.
“What the fuck are you doing here, idiot?” Ryan huffs as he shoulders past me. Rude.
“What do you mean? Can’t a guy and his dog come and have dinner with his bestie?” I ask as I bend down to rub Hulk between his ears, showing Ryan all my teeth in a wide innocent smile that has him rolling his eyes and heading back into the kitchen. I’m taking that as a win. Setting the cake box on the side table, I unleash Hulk and step up to Roman, who smells even better than whatever Ryan is cooking. Leaning forward into his space, I take a long inhale.
“Damn, you smell like all my hopes and dreams.” I wink and preen when he laughs and leans forward to take an exaggerated sniff of me.
“You smell like desperation and disinfectant.” He shrugs and now I’m the one laughing. Is there anything sexier than a guy who can give and take banter? Soulmates, I'm telling you.
“Do you believe in fate, Muscles?” I ask but before he can give me more than a quizzical look, Drew appears with the puppies in his arms. They are both wriggling and huffing air through their squished noses in excitement to get down and greet their brother. Hulk is wiggling his butt and barking up at them. I catch a glimpse of Roman out of the corner of my eye as he smiles at Hulk. My dog is the ultimate dude magnet. This may not have been my plan but it is all working out perfectly.
Ryan reluctantly plates me up some food while Drew sets me a place at the table and I join the three of them at the dinner table while the dogs play together in the enclosed backyard. Hearing their playful yips and barks makes my heart happy. I never thought about getting a dog until Drew took Ryan to a shelter to adopt Thor and Loki and they said there were other pups that needed a home. Since I lived alone, in a small Craftsman-style house that I bought for a steal at auction, it was an easy decision to bring the little guy home. The house still needs a lot of work but I’m happy. I have a biggish backyard, big enough for Hulk to run around and sniff the flowers, and a sweet wraparound porch where I can already see Roman and I sipping beers and hanging out after a long day on the grind. I must have a dopey grin on my face because Ryan kicks me under the table to get my attention. Oops, guess I was daydreaming.
“Are you planning on telling us why you crashed our evening?” Ryan asks before shoveling pasta into his mouth.
“I came to ask for permission to take your brother's hand in marriage, or at least on a date.” I shrug and turn to face Roman who is currently coughing after choking on his pasta. Reaching over I slap his back. “Jesus, Muscles, don’t die on me, you haven’t even seen the porch yet.” For some reason that seems to make him cough harder. Fuck, the spouse is always the prime suspect. I’m gonna end up arrested for murder if he dies right now. Smacking his back harder I hand him a glass of water and try to show him how to breathe again.
“Stay with me, Ro, in for four, hold for four, out for four.” I follow along with my words using my hand to gesture when to breathe in and out as I kneel at the side of his chair.
“He’s not dying, dickhead, you just shocked the shit out of him,” Ryan mutters, rolling his eyes as he points to the cake box and gestures for Drew to grab it.