36. Silas
36
SILAS
A text from Graham catches me in the middle of a conversation with Drew. I stare down at it while Drew waits expectantly for me to answer whatever he just asked me. His freshly minted husband is perched on the arm of the sofa next to him also giving me a look.
It’s been a weird roller coaster of a year. While I’ve been carrying on an affair with a married senator, my hot, tattooed roommate who only ever identified as straight hopped right onto the gay train and started fucking some screwed-up socialite. Now they’re newlyweds living in goddamn Brooklyn. And their place is nice. All renovated, great neighborhood, smells like cookies and everything.
Drew finally got a break and found steady work as a model. Truth be told, he’s never looked better. His husband’s not so bad either. Olivier Riley—formerly Arnaud—is pretty as fuck with soft brown curls and porcelain skin. He’s lean, tall, gorgeous, and moves like a damn panther. But I gotta say, I never saw this coming.
And this text…
Graham
Where are you?
It’s not really like Graham to demand an answer without a lot of surrounding niceties. I can practically feel his stress from here. But maybe I’m reading too much into it.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “What was that?” I type out Brooklyn in my text thread with Graham .
His instant follow up is, of course,
What the hell are you doing in Brooklyn?
“I asked if you wanna go to The Hamptons for Fourth of July.”
“Right. Hold that thought. Is there someplace I can make a call?”
Drew and Olivier exchange a look. Then Ollie gestures to a set of French doors leading to a small side yard.
“Thanks,” I say, standing. “Sorry.”
It’s one of the first warm, humid days of summer, but there’s a tree out here providing decent shade. I put a call through to Graham.
“What’s in Brooklyn?”
I laugh. It’s a very typical Graham question. “Drew and Ollie,” I remind him.
“Is that where they live?”
He sounds weird. The hair on my arms stands up as I answer in the affirmative, then I get even more tense as he asks about the house and Drew. He’s stalling and it couldn’t be more obvious.
“Drew’s great. Hale and healthy. What’s going on with you?”
“Avery wants a divorce.”
My eyes widen at the tree trunk, and I almost drop the phone. “Seriously?”
“She kicked me out.”
“Of your own apartment? ”
“She found out about the place in Chelsea.”
“Oh.” I rub my arm and turn in a slow circle. “Does she know about me?”
“I don’t think so. Not any more than she already knew, but she did ask if that’s where I go to fuck my boyfriend.”
Ouch. I knew things have been distant between Graham and Avery, but he never mentioned it was hostile.
“But she wants a divorce all of a sudden?” I ask. “Is she seeing someone, too?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. To be honest, she kinda caught me off guard.”
At least I’m not the only one. “Where are you ?” I ask.
“Chelsea. Are you coming back soon? I need to talk this out.”
“I’m supposed to have lunch…”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“I can get out of it.”
“No—”
“Graham, I’m coming. I’ll see you as soon as the train’ll get me there.”
“Okay. Thank you, Silas.”
“I love you,” I remind him. He doesn’t have to thank me.
“I love you, too.”
I hang up and take a few deep breaths while I try to game this turn of events out in my head.
Avery’s known Graham has a lover for almost two years. Granted, when she first found out, she was pregnant, and that turned out…the way it turned out. They haven’t had sex since, and it’s probably not as easy for her to carry on an affair as it’s been for him and me. People are probably waiting for her to fuck up as often as she goes out without her husband.
Still, I have a bad feeling about this. It’s a blindside, and I don’t do well with those. Stepping back into the house, Drew looks up at me and scowls. “Lemme guess. Something came up.”
“Sorry,” I tell them both .
“You’re not still…no… You couldn’t be. Right?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”
“What do you see in him?”
The question is sincere, I guess. Concerned, even. But I don’t like it, nor do I have the time or inclination to justify my choices to a man who advertises body spray and decided on a whim he likes cock while he had a girlfriend , might I add. What’s more ridiculous is they’re still friends, which is great for Drew and Jericho, but I’m still too busy for friends.
Mom is in worse shape than ever, Trixie’s not coping well, so I’m in Queens whenever Graham is out of town, and I’m still juggling three jobs.
I gesture at Olivier. “What do you see in him?”
“Hey,” he warns, standing up.
“It’s a stupid question, Drew, and it’s rude to ask. That was my point.”
“It’s rude to ask when he’s standing in the room,” Drew argues, “But I’ve never met the guy.”
“And you won’t,” I say. “Not with that attitude.”
“Dude, I’m just trying to talk to you.”
“And I’m telling you I need to go.”
“What if you bring him to the Hamptons? It’s really private,” Olivier says. He’s actually pretty cool in person. Before he was with Drew, his wild antics were the talk of the Upper East Side. He makes me think of Graham in a way. How his public persona completely contradicts who he is in private.
I shake my head. “No way in hell. No offense. Look, I apologize about lunch, but I gotta go. Something really has come up.”
Drew groans. “Sy. Jesus.”
“Nice place,” I tell them again. “Thanks for having me over. I’m happy for you.” Then, with a sharp look at Drew, I add, “You should try it sometime.”
He grimaces, but I don’t hear an apology. Just a mumbled see you later as I leave their brownstone .
I guess it’s safe to say I haven’t completely forgiven Drew or Christian for how they reacted to the news I was seeing a married Republican senator. I only agreed to come to Brooklyn because I wasn’t able to attend Drew and Olivier’s recent wedding, but nothing comes before Graham. Ever.
Since Katia has yet to pay me this week, I’m forced to take the subway. In the last five months, I’ve blown through half my savings paying for better equipment at my mom’s and an around-the-clock caregiver. Decent ones cost a fortune. Almost more than I can afford, but thank God, not quite. Still, I can no longer afford to splurge on Lyfts, the good tequila, or takeout, but who knows? If Graham gets divorced, maybe he can dump that UES apartment and pay for half the groceries.
The bad feeling I have lingers on the ride into Manhattan, but maybe this divorce is a good thing. I’m under no delusion that Graham will come out of the closet to be with me, but living with him full-time? I could definitely get excited about that. He’s out of town so often that when he’s here, my possessiveness tends to make me bitchy. I’m jealous of his time because while she might be his wife—I’m his partner. Sue me if I want to live with the guy for real.
I’m still so crazy in love with him. It gets worse daily. I dream of the day he’s out of the senate, and we can settle down somewhere—a time when I’ll have him all to myself. I can see us having kids. I can even see us with grandkids. Am I getting ahead of myself? Sure. But maybe that’s what happens when you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.
Could it be starting?
I’m cautiously optimistic by the time I unlock the apartment door and go inside. I find him in the bedroom, kicked back in his sweatpants and t-shirt, barefoot like he’s already moved in. He’s got his phone in his hands and looks surprised to see me.
“Expecting someone else?” I ask.
“I didn’t hear you come in. ”
I toss my phone onto the other side of the mattress and slide onto the bed beside him. “Okay, I’m here. I’m listening.”
“I came out to make my coffee, she was waiting. Before I could even pop the pod in, she said she wanted a divorce.”
“What’d you say?”
“I said ‘Why?’ And then she brought up this place.”
“Did she say how she found out about it?”
“My mom. They talk too much. But here’s what’s bugging me. She kept bringing up Marianne.”
“Remind me who Marianne is.”
“Marianne Hayes. Gibson Hayes’s wife.”
“Oh…I had not put that together.”
“Do you know them?” he asks.
“No, but Chris still works for Gibson. At Gramercy.”
“Gramercy? Really ?”
I grin. “I take it you know about the club.” The Penthouse is an uber exclusive sex club on the top floor of the Gramercy apartment building, right there on Park Avenue. I know about it because Katia helps keep it staffed, and once upon a time, there was an offer on the table for me to put in some time there, too.
But I’m not that kind of sex worker. I don’t do public scenes.
“I used to think it was an urban legend,” Graham says.
“It’s not,” I assure him.
“No, I know.”
I frown. “Have you been?”
“Jesus. No . Marianne’s mentioned it. Fucking Avery’s probably been there, though.”
“Are we mad at Avery?”
“We don’t know what’s going on with Avery. But that Marianne bitch…I just feel like—I don’t know.” He rubs his face. “I don’t trust her. She seems kind of obsessed with Avery.”
“Define obsessed.”
“She’s everywhere. She’s taken over her life. I think she’s even buying her clothes. ”
“The plot thickens.”
We’re quiet a minute while I drag my nails back and forth across his chest. Then I ask, “You think Avery’s gonna want more than the apartment?”
“Like what?” he asks.
“Like… this apartment?”
“I’ve been looking on the internet?—”
I groan.
He goes on. “She’s entitled to pretty much half of everything—or less since she didn’t contribute any income. But if she goes the infidelity route, then that could turn into a court thing, and I just?—”
“Can’t. No, I get it. So you want to see if you can just give her something and settle it?”
“Yes, but the Hanover apartment is really all I have to offer.”
“And you don’t own that one, right?”
He laughs. “No.”
“Seems like it should be pretty simple,” I tell him.
He chews on his lower lip and studies my face. “I just keep thinking if we hadn’t lost the baby…”
My heart drops when he says that. It’s not that I expect him to never think about the worst thing that ever happened to him, but it almost sounds like he wants to stay married. Like he wishes he and Avery could have been the happy little family he once said was for show.
“Hey,” he says, his tone semi-urgent. His hand strokes my face. “I only mean I never wanted to hurt her or make her unhappy. I’m not saying I wish we could have made a real marriage work.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Sy…” He scoots down until he’s on his side facing me. “Don’t listen to me. I’m all over the place. This shit came out of nowhere today.”
“I know,” I say quietly.
“She probably just wants to move on, and I don’t blame her. ”
“Are you gonna be okay?” I ask.
He presses our foreheads together and brushes his nose down mine. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”
“Me, too.”
I kiss the small smile he gives me in response. Just a peck. “You can crash here if you want.”
His smile grows. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Plenty of room.”
“You don’t think I should get a hotel room or something? Move in with my parents for a few weeks and lick my wounds? I don’t know… If I piss her off…”
His train of thought unsettles me. “Graham…don’t take this the wrong way because I’m not asking for anything you can’t give, but this is a chance for us to be together.”
“People could…notice. Me and you here. They could assume things.”
“You’re here all the time,” I argue, the first stirrings of irritation making my heart pump faster. “I lived with three other guys for years. I never fucked any of them.”
He rubs his face and groans. “It’s not like I don’t want to be with you.”
“Kinda sounds like it.”
“Silas. Come on. Don’t do this. I’m rattled. I’m sorry.”
“So rattled you’d rather stay with mommy and daddy instead of me?”
“Hey…” He kisses me, pressing his body to mine. “Don’t listen to me. This is what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted. You and me.”
“You sure about that?”
“Tell me it’s what you want, too,” he says.
“I love you,” I remind him. “I’m not going anywhere. There’s no one else for me.”
His mouth twists like he’s managing an uncomfortable emotion. “No pressure,” he breathes, his thumb running mindlessly over the sensitive skin beneath my jaw.
He’s freaking me out, and I hate the way it makes me feel. Unsteady. Uneasy. Unsure. I wrap a hand around his wrist, over his bracelet to remind him who he is to me. Kissing him, I move over him until he’s on his back, and I’m straddling his hips, our mouths deeply connected where I pour all my tense feelings into a tortured kiss. Within seconds, his erection is rubbing my dick and getting me hard.
I don’t know who’s about to fuck whom, but the need to join our bodies is intense. If the bracelet isn’t enough to remind him where he belongs tonight, I have another way to make my point.
He belongs with me.
Always.