Chapter Five
FRANK - NEW ROCHELLE, NY
Frank tried to focus on steering the boat around the buoys in the harbor, but his mind was racing.
He felt horrible about the way he’d treated Teresa last weekend—abandoning her, forcing her to get a ride home, making her worry about him.
What is wrong with me? He’d never done anything like that before.
But it was almost like he couldn’t help himself.
Lately, feelings from Frank’s past were resurfacing.
God, was he confused. And he wondered if it showed.
He pictured the expression on Teresa’s face after he got home.
He’d never seen her look at him that way before.
The uncertainty. The way she held him in her gaze, like she was trying to decipher clues.
I thought I could keep this at bay. Why is this happening again?
Images from Saturday night flickered through his mind—Henry laughing, the wind whipping back his hair, his profile silhouetted against the late-evening sky.
He worried that Henry would be his downfall.
Two competing emotions tore at Frank—desire and fear.
He was dying to see Henry alone again. Curiosity was teeming inside him, and he wanted to see whether there was anything there or if it was only in his imagination.
But acting on his attraction wasn’t worth the risk.
He’d made his choice a long time ago. Nothing was worth losing his family over.
With Teresa by his side, he’d always been able to drown out the desires he’d been trying to deny.
And now, as he was steering his boat to meet Henry—who had awoken these instincts in him in such a powerful way that it often took his breath away—Frank tried to convince himself that he could resist. That he wasn’t putting himself and his family at risk.
That he wasn’t being unfaithful to Teresa just by spending time with Henry, knowing how he felt about him.
Frank pulled up to the dock at the City Island Marina, where they’d arranged to meet after Henry finished a work appointment there.
It was en route to Manhasset Bay, one of Frank’s favorite spots that he was going to show Henry that evening, giving them a reason to be alone together on the boat.
They were just two friends out for a sunset spin without their wives and kids, blowing off steam after a long day of work.
But as much as he tried to convince himself that this was an innocent joy ride with a friend, Frank knew deep down that he was looking for an excuse to spend time with his crush, dangerous though that was.
Frank felt like a masochist, torturing himself by being around Henry.
But it also felt like torture to stay away.
Henry stood, one hand lifted to his forehead to shade his eyes from the sun, the other waving to Frank. “Hey, you.” He gave Frank a wide smile, which made Frank’s stomach flip-flop.
“Gorgeous night,” Frank said. “Hop on.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Henry said, winking.
Frank looked away to steer the boat closer to the dock—and to hide the effect Henry’s gesture had on him. He felt undone by it, like his attempts to keep a cool demeanor would crumble at any moment, and he’d give away his true feelings to Henry with just one look.
Henry grabbed the side of the boat and helped pull it to the dock, taking out the side buoy to avoid a collision.
When the boat was close enough, he hopped inside.
Frank watched Henry push the boat away from the dock, taking in his muscular arms and the curve of his back.
Henry turned toward Frank and stared back intently for a second longer than was comfortable, a small smile playing upon his lips.
Frank realized he might have been caught admiring him.
Henry walked over, and instead of taking the passenger seat of the boat, as the cocaptain, he sat down next to Frank behind the wheel.
Henry’s leg was squeezed up against his, and Frank could feel the heat of the man’s body through his shorts.
He shuddered, startled by the strength of his own desire.
Frank thought about moving his leg, but there was a tremor running through his body, so delicious he wanted to freeze the moment and enjoy it forever.
He waited a few beats, relishing the closeness.
Then he shifted his leg to the right, breaking contact.
Frank couldn’t turn and look at Henry. But he didn’t have to. For months, he’d been observing those brown eyes, and he’d become well acquainted with them. He knew the way Henry’s eyes twinkled when their conversation moved from harmless banter to outright flirtation.
When they pulled up to the area of the bay where he wanted to anchor, Henry went up to the bow and threw the anchor out.
It sank to the bottom, securing their spot.
Frank cut the engine, and silence descended.
There was a charge in the air, and Frank suddenly felt giddy with nerves, like he was that high school boy from six years earlier, who had wanted to kiss Eddie.
Henry walked up to Frank, an intense look in his eyes. He reached out and cupped his hand around the back of Frank’s neck. Frank leaned into Henry’s hand and slowly rubbed against it. He felt a deep tingling throughout his body and became lightheaded.
“We can’t,” he heard himself say. Frank had buried his true feelings for so many years that it had become a part of him. Denial was in his blood.
“Yes, we can,” Henry whispered. “No one has to know. We both want it. I know that, Frank, and so do you.”
Henry moved even closer and pulled him slowly into the cabin, staring into his eyes, a determined look on his face.
Frank vibrated with lust as he followed Henry.
He couldn’t focus when the man was this close.
Frank felt his body ignite, like it was radiating heat.
His thoughts were churning and jumbled, his breath heaving in his chest.
“But... our wives. Our kids—” Frank didn’t finish because Henry put his finger to Frank’s lips.
“Shhh.” Henry’s voice lingered in the sea air, encircling them.
“We’re not going to talk about them now.
That’s not what matters here. We’re what matters.
” He gestured to the two of them and laid his hand over Frank’s chest. Frank felt his skin glow underneath.
“We’ve both wanted this for a long time. ”
Henry’s eyes were soft, searching Frank’s, their lips only inches apart.
He leaned over, closing the space between them, and lightly brushed his lips against Frank’s.
At the first touch of Henry’s mouth, Frank’s body went into a kind of shock.
It surprised him how soft Henry’s lips—a man’s lips—were.
He’d never kissed a man, although he’d dreamed of it many times before—yearned for it.
So many times, Frank had wanted to feel what this was like, to see if his estimate of himself was accurate.
These longings, which he’d suppressed for years, now came bubbling to the surface, irrepressible, relentless. He couldn’t deny them anymore.
Frank felt a wave overtake him as he grabbed Henry’s face and kissed him back, giving in completely.
Henry ran his hands through Frank’s hair and then slid his arms around his shoulders, pulling Frank tight against him with a suggestion of overwhelming strength.
Everything about Henry was alien—he smelled different, his lips were softer than expected, his chest was hard against Frank’s.
His whole body felt as if it had become molten, melded to Henry’s, long-dormant synapses springing to life. Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, his breath rapid. Frank wanted to feel Henry’s skin against his, smooth and warm, hard and strong. He wanted to wrap himself completely around Henry.
Frank had tried being what everyone expected of him, so-called normal. But here in the boat cabin, with Henry’s lips on his, with their bodies touching, that was just what struck him—how normal it felt. How effortless and right.
Time stalled. Frank let everything fade into the background. He gave in to what he knew he wanted, and all those other thoughts vanished, and it was just Henry.
The next morning at work, Frank crouched down next to the car he was repairing, hoping he’d find some answers underneath its hood.
He gazed absentmindedly at his toolbox, unsure which tool to grab.
His hands were shaking. Man, he needed to pull it together.
To focus. But he couldn’t get the previous night out of his head.
Henry had kissed him. And oh my God, he had kissed Henry back.
And Frank wanted to do a lot more than just kiss Henry.
He could still feel Henry’s mouth on his.
Henry’s tough, sinewy body pressed against his.
He thought of Henry’s lips with a flush of heat that might be pleasure or shame.
He didn’t want to interrogate himself as to which.
Then he thought of Teresa, and his stomach churned.
He worried she could read guilt all over his face and he wouldn’t be able to hide such a monumental shift from her.
Because something had altered in the foundation of Frank’s being.
He’d finally claimed a piece of himself he’d always suspected was missing but never had the courage to reach for, a piece of the puzzle that made him who he truly was.
But that puzzle took him further away from Teresa and his children and the life he’d built and loved.
How could he be the man who’d chosen that life, lived it, and kept choosing it because it brought him joy—and stability and safety—yet still be true to who he was at his core?
He couldn’t reconcile it. It was too big. Too much.
He let out a shuddering breath. What on earth have I done? Who have I become?
Frank glanced around guiltily to see if anyone had noticed something different about him and could sense that he, Frank Antinori, was sneaking around with a man.
Everyone went about their business as usual, with heads bowed, bodies hidden under cars, music playing, and work continuing.
Yet Frank felt like the earth had shifted and he’d entered an alternate universe.
And he had a feeling there would be no turning back.