24. Levi
TWENTY-FOUR
Levi
I wake alone in the big, comfortable bed. The sunlight showing around the edges of the curtains tells me that it’s still daytime. I sit up, hoping for some sign of Ethan, but he’s gone. I get out of bed and go into the bathroom.
While I’m washing my face, I get the edges of the bandages wet. I pick at them. They’re not necessary. The cuts aren’t that bad. I obviously didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I even did it. It was so dumb.
Tears fall on my hands as I peel the bandages off. I’m so embarrassed.
I mean, I have thought about this before. Doing this. But never seriously. This wasn’t serious either. I swipe at my eyes.
One of the cuts is a little bad, so I put a new, smaller bandage over it. I wash my face again then comb my hair back. It looks bad. My face looks bad too with my eyes all red.
I leave the bathroom because I don’t want to see it.
There are two bags on the bench at the foot of the bed. I look inside and find mostly clothes but other essentials too, plus a pair of running shoes. It looks like everything is for me, and it makes me uncomfortable to think of Patrick looking at stuff and picking it for me.
I pull on a pair of black joggers and a navy sweatshirt that will cover my arms, then I make my way through the house, heading back to the kitchen.
It’s a very cool house. It looks like it belongs to an artist. It looks like Ethan spends more time here than at his penthouse.
But I didn’t even know about this place.
I don’t know anything about him. It doesn’t feel that way when I’m with him, but apart, it’s obvious.
I still don’t know what’s going on. Everything fell apart when he went to the church, but I don’t know why.
I can smell something like spaghetti sauce cooking before I reach the kitchen, and I can hear the low hum of Ethan’s and Patrick’s voices.
I peer around the corner, wondering if I should go back, but Ethan sees me instantly.
He’s standing with his back to the counter, drinking coffee in his black sweats and gray T-shirt, while Patrick, with a black apron over his jeans and white T-shirt, is chopping something.
Ethan’s expression jumps from mostly relaxed to intense and questioning as he comes walking my way. I’m not sure why, but I shrink back. Usually, I like his intensity, but right now I don’t feel up to it.
Something about waking up alone put me in a different headspace. I’m embarrassed and alone, and I feel like I should stay that way. I feel like I deserve it.
But then Ethan grabs onto me and pulls me in tight. I put my arms around him too and close my eyes. He’s warm and solid and so much stronger than me. He doesn’t ask anything or say anything. He just holds on until I reorient to him.
Then I remember that he came to find me. He figured out where I was because he understands me. He’s paid attention. He… cares about me.
It’s enough. It’s more than I’ve ever had. So I don’t know why I still feel like something essential is missing.
But it’s enough, and cling to it. To him.
When I relax, Ethan pets my hair. “Do you want coffee?”
“Sure.”
I walk with Ethan back to where he left his cup and the insulated carafe. I stand on the other side of Ethan, letting him shield me from Patrick, who’s only about five feet away.
I can’t get comfortable with Patrick. I know it’s dumb. He’s done nice things for me, but I still feel like he doesn’t like me. I’m sure he doesn’t want me with Ethan. I’m sure he wishes I weren’t here.
It’s bad enough being the third person in this room, but then Ethan leaves to go to the fridge, which is in the pantry. Suddenly, there’s nothing between me and Patrick but five feet of empty space and a whole lot of stark contrast.
Patrick is dominant and confident. He’s working with quiet purpose while I’m fidgeting. He’s handsome, and despite the bit of gray at his temples, he doesn’t look old. He looks dignified and elegant. He looks like someone who belongs with someone like Ethan.
Still chopping green onions, Patrick glances at me. “Did the shoes fit?”
“I, um, didn’t try them on yet.”
“Let me know when you do. I can get you something else.”
“Okay. Thanks. For getting things for me.”
“No problem.”
When Ethan comes back with a carton of cream and starts making my coffee, Patrick says to him, “Levi is worried about our relationship. You need to put him at ease.”
Ethan objects, clearly irritated, “I did.”
Patrick argues, “No, you didn’t.”
“It’s fine,” I cut in, my face flaming. “I’m not worried about it.”
Patrick keeps chopping. “It’s okay to be worried.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t like me,” I snap, startling myself. “I mean—damn it, never mind. I’ll just go—”
Ethan grabs my sleeve. “You’re not going anywhere. And what do you mean he doesn’t like you? Patrick, what did you do?”
“He didn’t do anything,” I splutter as Patrick opens his mouth. “I can just tell. But it doesn’t matter!” I tug against Ethan’s grip on my sleeve, desperate to escape this embarrassing situation. “Just let me go, please—”
Ethan starts to say something, but Patrick cuts in sharply, “Hold on a fucking second, both of you.”
It happens again, like earlier. Ethan yields to Patrick. He doesn’t let go of my sleeve, but his grip softens, asking me to stay instead of demanding.
Patrick scrubs at his jaw. “Okay. Fuck. We’ll start there. God, he’s perceptive, Ethan.”
“I fucking realize that, Patrick.”
Patrick scolds, “It’s something you can’t ignore. He’s gonna pick up on shit, and it’s not fair to him to pretend like it doesn’t exist.”
“Fuck you, Patrick, I’m fucking trying.”
Patrick’s expression softens. “I know you are, Ethan. But you have never been in a relationship, and I knew from day one that was what this was gonna be. And I knew neither of you were the least bit prepared for it, and that’s why I’ve been cold to you, Levi, because I’ve been worried, and I’m sorry, okay? It’s not at all that I don’t like you.”
My throat tightens. I rock back and find that Ethan has moved around behind me. I bump into him and rest there. He lets go of my sleeve and hooks his arm around me instead.
Patrick takes a deep breath. “Levi, do you understand?”
I’m not entirely sure that I do, but I nod.
Patrick says, “Ethan, you have to understand that this is new and scary for Levi. And, Levi, you have to understand that this is new and scary for Ethan too. It’s less obvious with him, but he’s totally fucking overwhelmed and has no idea what to do.
And you both have some serious fucking baggage.
You’re gonna have to carry it together.”
Silence falls in the wake of Patrick’s words. I feel the truth of them, but I don’t know exactly how to settle them in my brain. I think the same thing is happening to Ethan. His hand flexes on my stomach, but he doesn’t say anything.
Patrick exhales heavily. “Why don’t you two go sit outside. Get some fresh air.”
Ethan tugs at me, following Patrick’s directions, taking my hand and making me follow those directions too. We go out through the double doors onto the flagstone patio.
There are two Adirondak chairs, but Ethan and I sit in one together, face to face with me straddling him. I settle against his chest, and his arms hook around me. My feet rest on the flagstones.
It takes a while, but Patrick’s words finally settle, and they bring a clarity to my feelings that surprises me, like my feelings suddenly make sense, like they’re valid.
It takes a little longer before I’m ready to talk about it, but I finally ask, “So you’ve never been in a… relationship?”
“No.”
“Is that what this is?”
Ethan’s fingers thread through my hair. “Yes.”
“And are you scared?”
Ethan whispers, “Yes.”
“Me too.”
He breathes deeply, and so do I. There’s relief in the acknowledgment, like it’s okay, like we’re in this together.
A relationship.
Ethan keeps running his fingers through my hair. There are lots of tangles, which he combs out.
“It needs to be cut,” I mutter.
“Patrick can cut it. He’s pretty good.”
“Does he do yours?”
“He used to. There was a time that I…” Ethan trails off and is silent for a long time. I can feel his effort to speak, so I just wait. Finally he says, “There was a time that I couldn’t handle having someone else do it.”
“You’ve known him a long time.”
“Ten years. At the time, I was… not doing well. Patrick helped me a lot. He was… Fuck, I don’t know if we should talk about this.”
“I really want to know.”
Ethan blows out a heavy breath. “He was my Dom.”
“Your Dom?”
“Like I am with you. Different but… same idea. But it wasn’t sexual. At least not directly. We didn’t have sex. Patrick has never touched me. I mean—” Ethan lets out a frustrated sigh. “—not sexually. Fuck, it’s really hard to explain.”
“It’s okay,” I murmur.
Ethan’s body has gotten so tense that I know he’s incredibly uncomfortable, so I nuzzle under his jaw, hoping he’ll relax again.
It works. He takes a deep breath.
For a while, we just breathe against each other, and I think about what he’s said and what he hasn’t said. It’s strange how in the wake of Patrick’s words I can think now, like if my feelings are okay, I don’t have to worry so much about them. I can step outside of them and see other things.
“Why were you not doing well?” I ask. I’ve never asked Ethan questions like this before. I’ve never felt like I could.
Ethan’s fingers start combing my hair again, and it tells me that the question is allowed. His long silence, though, also tells me that he probably won’t answer. But he does give me something. He says, “There are some things I don’t know how to talk about.”
It’s an admission, and there’s vulnerability in it. I hear it. I feel it.
I tell him, “I understand. It’s okay.”
Ethan’s sigh of relief is so deep, that I feel like I sink into him.
“I’m glad Patrick’s here,” I say.
Ethan replies in a light, teasing tone, “Because I don’t know what I’m doing?”
It makes me smile a little. “It actually makes me feel better that you don’t know what you’re doing.”