Chapter 9
chapter nine
easton
I woke up, unsure of how long I’d been asleep, and found Patrice sitting in bed reading from what looked like a pile of papers.
I shifted onto my side, and he turned to look at me.
He was wearing those reading glasses I’d seen on him a couple of times, bare chested and so handsome, it took enormous restraint to keep from sighing.
The rain must’ve stopped while I was asleep, since a couple of slivers of sunshine were peeking in through his window curtains.
He put down the papers and placed them at the top of the pile sitting on his bedside table and ran a hand down my naked flank.
For a moment, I lay there, blissfully imagining that he was mine and I was his. That he hadn’t told me we were over before we really started. We stayed like that for a few minutes, me pretending to be asleep and him quietly stroking my back.
I was almost drifting back to sleep when my phone, which he apparently got out of my short pockets and placed on the little table next to the bed, started buzzing.
When I opened my eyes, I found his trained on me, and then he smiled.
That smile that I rarely saw that was pure and unguarded.
I was about to say something but reached for my phone instead, in case it was something related to the trial.
It was a message from my dad.
If you have time to spare from the temper tantrum you call a career, your grandfather would like to see you at his birthday brunch today. You’re already an hour late.
It was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on me.
My father never failed to let me know that to him, I was nothing but a selfish self-satisfied brat.
Most days, I blew him off and ignored him.
But something about being back here again a year later, still feeling unsure and somewhat pathetic for throwing myself at Patrice, made the whole thing sting.
Without responding, I sighed and put the phone down, trying to figure out what to do about Patrice.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now.
Did he want me to get dressed and leave?
Since I’d barged into his house in a fit of rage, fucked him, and then took a nap in his bed without asking, I’d probably worn out my welcome.
I turned around, trying to get myself out of the bed, and spoke while I had my back turned to him, not wanting to see the relief in his face when I told him I was leaving.
“I’m going to head out now. Sorry I fell asleep.” I tried to laugh but gave up. This could just be awkward and weird. I didn’t fucking care. But as I was about to stand, Patrice touched my shoulder.
“Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? You looked so tired.”
Pity. My favorite thing to hear from a lover after sex.
I shook my head, still not looking at him. “I’m fine. I’ll let you get back to your Sunday.” This time I did turn around, wanting him to see that I wouldn’t cross that line in the future. He was my tenant for fuck’s sake; I shouldn’t have done this. “It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t go, Easton.” There was just a hint of urgency in his voice. Knowing that Patrice was just as fucked up about whatever we were doing as I was only made me more tired.
I sighed as I looked around for my clothes and then remembered I’d left them downstairs.
“What am I going to stay for, Patrice? So you can fuck me again and then let me know immediately after that you regret doing it? No thanks.”
To his credit, he looked contrite. I wasn’t even sure why I was blowing up at him. It’s not like he’d asked me here. I’d showed up at his door after making all kinds of assumptions. I deflated, remembering who it was that I’d seen him with. Patrice was right about us. This was not going to work.
“I’m going to go, Patrice. I’m sorry about Ari.
If there’s any way I can help, let me know.
I have a good friend from law school that does immigration law in Rochester.
I can get in touch with him. He does a lot of pro bono work.
” Patrice looked surprised and I thought he was going to say something, but he just nodded.
“All right. I’ll walk you down.”
Without responding, I started for the stairs before I humiliated myself any further. “Don’t worry about it. I have to run anyway. I’m supposed to be at a family event and I am ridiculously late. I barged into your house, came on to you—”
Patrice made an exasperated sound as he moved to follow me downstairs. “You didn’t come on to me. I was right there with you and wanting the same things you wanted.”
When I looked around his living room trying to find my shoes, I recalled that I’d come to his house in nothing but gym shorts and a t-shirt.
Embarrassed by just how fucking ridiculous I’d been, I finished getting dressed as fast as I could and was heading to the door within seconds.
Patrice stood in his living room watching.
And, of course, my stupid heart clenched when he just stood there, watching me go.
“Easton, don’t leave angry. Things don’t have to be like this between us. I want us to be friends. I—”
He fidgeted as I stared at him, for once forcing myself not to make the moment easier for Patrice, not to let him off the hook. It was what I’d been doing from the first moment we met. Diffusing and putting him at ease so he wouldn’t run off on me. I was done with that.
“Have a good day, Patrice.”
I walked out of his place, determined to stay away. I wanted him, and judging by the sex we’d had and what he’d made me feel, I probably would always want him. But there was nothing I could do to keep Patrice from running, because no matter what it was, he’d always find a reason to.
I’d grabbed the phone out of my pocket to send a quick message to my dad when I saw a new text from Ron.
There was another one. We need to figure something out.
I felt a shiver run through my body. I wondered if he was referring to Ari or if someone else had been stopped. I quickly tapped a message telling him I’d call him in a few minutes.
I texted my dad as I walked into my apartment.
I’ll be there.
I had obligations, I had work to do.
My needs would have to take a back seat for once.
Patrice
I was still standing by the door a long time after Easton left. Hating myself for once again making him feel like shit for something I wanted just as much as he did.
I could’ve handled that better.
There was no question about that. Half of the time I felt like I had no idea what I was doing whenever Easton was involved.
Except that was a lie. I knew I wanted him, that whenever I was with him, I felt free and at ease.
That he always left me wanting more. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself for much longer than it took to make us both come, and in the process, I kept hurting Easton.
I was about to go back to grading papers, which was what I’d been trying to do all morning, when a knock on my door shifted my attention off of my fuckboy nonsense.
I glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized it was past noon already.
It had to be Ari. He’d gone to take Yin home, and he told me he’d be back so we could talk since we never got the chance yesterday.
As I moved to the door, I felt glad that I’d at least showered while Easton napped and wasn’t going to meet with my mentee after the weekend he’d had smelling like come.
I opened the door and found Ari looking better than he had last night.
I went in to clap him on the back, feeling just a bit protective of him still.
There was so much about how Ari carried himself that reminded me of myself.
His stoic approach to things, his drive to “make things work” no matter what.
“Thanks for last night. Yin would’ve been up all night if I’d been at my uncle’s.”
It didn’t escape me that even after years of living there, Ari still didn’t call his uncle’s place home. One more red flag to add to the pile when it came to that situation.
I sat on one end of my couch and looked at Ari as he typed out a text before pocketing his phone.
“I stopped by OuNYe to tell Nesto. I didn’t want him to hear it from someone else.
” He grimaced and fidgeted with the laces of his Adidas and when he looked up, he seemed a little embarrassed.
“He said that maybe you could help me figure out the immigration thing now. Things with my uncle are not going well, and I want to have a plan.”
And, of course, I was right back to Easton. I leaned against the cushions we’d been pressed against before making our way upstairs and, like an idiot, wondered if they still smelled like him.
I coughed a few times, trying to buy myself a moment, because I’d apparently lost the ability to even talk about Easton.
“So I know Easton has a friend that does immigration work.” Now I felt like an ass for blabbing about Ari’s situation, but when I looked at him, he seemed to have perked up at the prospect of Easton getting involved.
“I trust Easton, he will find someone good.” I took a moment to let that sink in, to take in Ari’s faith in people’s goodness. His ability to give people a chance.
I nodded, holding in all the shit that was trying to spill out. “Okay, that’s good, I know he’d like to help.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling like I needed to be honest. “He was over here this morning and I was still feeling a little heated about what happened to you last night. I told him.”
Ari dipped his head in acknowledgement but did not seemed bothered at all.
“You don’t mind that I told him?”
He shrugged and then smiled. “I trust you and Easton.” I wasn’t sure he was intentionally pairing us together or if he was just talking, but it seemed like my new thing was to read too much into everything whenever Easton was involved.