Heartless (Keeping Secrets) Read online

  It was weird being so immersed in his space. Tommy hadn’t been in this room long, if the accumulation of stuff was any indication. Normally a guy’s room is filled with crap. At least mine was. Most of the stuff is a memory of some kind, even if the memory was just a birthday. Tommy had no posters on the wall. He had three big portraits hanging instead.

  They were family portraits, the kind that every “real” family got once a year to send out with Christmas cards. I’d never experienced the phenomenon myself, but Kevin complained loudly every time Tina got the itch. He’d end up dressing up in a sweater in mid-June and get dragged to the nearest portrait studio to take holiday photos with his parents because all the discounts were levied out during the summer, when no one wanted their pictures taken. They might’ve been rich, but Tina was all about saving them money, so discounts and sales got her all giddy. It was a really weird quirk, but then I thought all rich people had to be a little eccentric. The portraits were the only super personal things in Tommy’s room. There were still several stacked boxes in one corner, the remnants of the life he’d left behind. I wondered if they were memories too painful for him to take out yet.

  The cream-colored wallpaper was old and flaking around the doorway. Another thing they apparently hadn’t had time to fix before Tommy had moved in. He had a cluttered desk shoved in one corner, with papers and notebooks scattered on top. He had a full-size bed with a simple gray-and-black comforter with some sort of cool swirling pattern. It was comfortable, too, and I found myself relaxing as the seconds ticked by. I wondered how she’d died. Had Tommy seen it coming, or had it been as quick as a gunshot? It was a morbid curiosity but one that I couldn’t help but have.

  Tommy walked back into the room with a yellow plastic cup of water and a straw. His thoughtfulness struck me as odd. “Sorry I took a while. Couldn’t find where Uncle Mark stuck the straws.” He sat down beside me and lifted my ice packs to check my bruises. He frowned and put the ice back on. “You’re swelling a little bit, but it should be okay.” He lifted the cup so that I could drink from the straw. I did, my eyes never leaving his gray ones.

  I finished sipping. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked. I had to know. I had to know what his ulterior motive was. He looked surprised by my question.

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I heard you tell him to stop, and I just reacted.” I nodded. I guess that made sense. Though Tommy had never struck me as exactly the honorable type, he was probably reacting to several thousand years of evolutional programming that said men helped the weak. The thought of me being one of the “weak” did not sit well with me, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at this point.

  “Thank you,” I said. What else was there to say? He did save my ass. The numbness was starting to wear off now, and I was getting the shakes. I couldn’t believe what had almost happened. Tears threatened my vision again, and I let out a well-placed string of curses. I was not going to cry in front of Tommy again. I wouldn’t repay his strength with yet more of my weakness. I turned my head and stared at the wall, willing myself to get a grip.

  I felt warm hands on my shoulders, and I was forced to look at him again. I stared at him in incomprehension. What did he want of me? “It’s alright, you know. It’s alright to let it out.” Just like that, the well broke and tears cascaded down my face as the fear from before caused me to sob pitifully, like a little girl. Like Cade’s tears, mine were not pretty Hollywood tears. I curled into myself, feeling ashamed. Tommy would have none of it. He took me in his arms and let me snot and cry all over his T-shirted chest. All the time he murmured unintelligible words in my ear and stroked my back in slow circles meant to ease me through the pain.

  We stayed that way for about fifteen minutes, his arms around me and my head resting between his pecs. I listened to the steady thumping of his heart and smelled the clean scent of male and felt the warmth of his arms around me. It was like coming home.

  “Jason.” My name was a prayer, and I loved the way it sounded on his lips. My fear and pain transformed into something else, something tender. I pressed a kiss to his neck.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for, but there it was. I think I was sorry for everything, for the shitty thing I’d done freshman year, for the way I’d scoffed at him afterward, for hitting on his cousin, for the mess he’d had to drag me out of. I was sick to death of myself in that instant, and I wanted to apologize for my very existence.

  “It’s okay.” His voice had taken on the same hushed cadence as mine. Forgiveness was so sweet when I was getting held like this.

  He tilted my chin up so our lips could meet, and I can honestly say it was the sweetest kiss I’d ever been given. The mask I usually wore slipped away, and I was just Jason and he was just Tommy and the world had stopped spinning, time had stopped going forward and had ceased to exist altogether. Nothing from before was important and nothing that would come after. The only thing that mattered was the firm press of his lips to mine and the first tentative touch of his tongue. I got drunk off one taste of Tommy.

  I don’t know how long we kissed. I do know that he was the one to pull back. “You don’t have to do this to thank me.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “I know that’s what you think, but that’s not what’s going on. Okay?” My eyes blinked open lazily.

  “Then what is this?” I asked. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, and I was enchanted by the nervous gesture.

  “I like you.” The words were mumbled, barely understandable. I couldn’t comprehend them.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re sexy and smart and funny and about a million other things you don’t notice, but everyone else does.” Tommy wouldn’t meet my eyes as he made the confession. How could he think those things about me? I had done something unforgivable.

  “You told me to stay away from Danny,” I said, repeating the words he’d spat at me at the drum circle. “You told me that I’d ruined your life.”

  He sighed and seemed to hold onto me tighter as he spoke. “I told you to stay away from Danny because I was jealous.” My heart thudded painfully in my chest. “And you didn’t ruin my life. You hurt my ego.”

  Hope pounded through my veins. Hope is an ugly thing. It’s a demon, really. It makes you think everything is going to be all right just before it crushes you. It’s the exit sign in a horror movie that the main characters are racing toward as a killer chases after them. It’s also the bag of popcorn some kid left on the floor for the protagonist to trip over so they fall just short of freedom. Their death becomes so much more tragic because of that stupid fucking hopeful sign. My thoughts raced as I took in his words. Did he understand? Did he get it? Did he want me? Really want me this time? I had to test it.

  I forced myself to chuckle. “Hey, man, if this is about sex, I’m down. You’re hot as hell, and you know it. But I’m not into relationships.” As screwed up as it was, I wanted him to correct me. I wanted him to refuse to touch me because it would sully what we could conceivably have. I wanted him to shake me and tell me that love was not sex and what he felt for me went beyond his urge to ejaculate.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked. My heart sank. Yeah, hope was a bitch. I wanted to cry all over again, but I wouldn’t. Not now. Now I was back on familiar territory.

  I shrugged. The shrug meant everything and nothing. “I’m not exactly good to go right now, but if you want to pick it up in a few hours, I should be good.” Why did I do this to myself? Why? Not even I could explain. I hated myself for doing it but couldn’t seem to stop from doing it, either. I was stuck in this fucking cycle of men wanting a piece of me and me throwing it at them and relishing the fact that they couldn’t hurt me. But they were hurting me, weren’t they? My worth had been reduced to a set of well-placed orifices. I couldn’t blame them entirely. I’d done my fair share of making myself a sex object, but damn it, for once I wanted someone to see me. Maybe that was
why I liked Danny. He didn’t know me well enough to eye me with that kind of hunger. Even if he did, it was an innocent lust. I envied him that.

  “Jason? Are you okay?” I realized then I was breathing like I was winded. I forced my breathing to slow down. I smiled. It was more of a baring of teeth than anything.

  “Right as rain. I’ve got to get going. I need to go home.” I need to get the hell away from you and your stupid hope. I tried to pull out of Tommy’s embrace, but he wouldn’t release me. I glared. “Let me go.”

  “Stop playing your games with me, Jason,” he said. I looked at him nose to nose. I wanted to hit him.

  “I’m playing games? Fuck you.” I didn’t know what was happening. My emotions were fluctuating wildly. I was drowning in the veritable toilet bowl of my thoughts.

  “I don’t want this to be just about fucking, Jason. I want this to be real. Not like me blowing you in a locker room. God. You are so jaded. Don’t you feel anything?” No, I didn’t. Didn’t he know my rep? I was fucking heartless.

  Chapter Six

  “HAVEN’T you heard the things people say about me?” I asked nastily. I was going to stop this before it was too late. I had to stop falling in love with him.

  “They’re not true,” Tommy said.

  I laughed. “You sure about that?” Say it, I told myself. Say the words that will make him leave you alone. I knew what they were, if I could only choke them out. “What would your mom say about that?” I had actually said them. He froze, his gray eyes widening in pain. Predatory satisfaction shot through me, along with every ounce of disgust I’d ever felt.

  “That was low. Even for you,” he whispered. I’d hurt him. I’d hurt him deeply. I wanted to beg his forgiveness. I wanted to say I was sorry and that I didn’t mean it. I wanted to say that I still loved him even after everything that had happened. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was a coward. I was a broken fuck doll with sightless eyes and no soul.

  “I should go,” I said.

  “You should apologize for talking shit about my mom,” he corrected. Why wasn’t he angry with me? Why wasn’t he pounding the shit out of me? Why wasn’t he punishing me for what I’d done?

  “I’m sorry.” I said the words without thinking. He’d commanded and I’d obeyed. The “I’m sorry” had been thoughtless and beautiful and right. His kindness made me want to be better than I was, better than I ever thought I could be. The reason wasn’t really important. He was being nice to me, and that was all that mattered.

  “God,” he whispered. “Who broke you?” I wasn’t just broken. I was ruined. Something that was ruined could not be fixed. Something this dirty could not be cleaned.

  He cupped my face and kissed me. I whimpered. I couldn’t suppress my sound of surrender if I tried. I wound my arms around his neck and climbed him like a jungle gym. For once, it wasn’t about the sex or the power; it was about two boys finding a little relief in a world where nothing worked out like the movies and happily ever after was for girls and fairy tales.

  He pressed me down against his soft, clean comforter and kissed me harder. I wanted him so badly. I don’t think I had really ever desired anything like I desired him. I wanted him to cleanse me of all my faults and find a worthy person underneath.

  He didn’t reach for my jeans, despite the fact I was obviously aching and so was he. I loved him a little more for that. We kissed for endless moments, and I was drowning in the sound, sight, taste, and touch of him. He broke his lips from mine to trail down my neck, and I just clung to him, loving him harder than I loved anything and wanting this moment to never end.

  “Tommy,” I murmured his name over and over.

  He nipped my skin. “Love you, Jason. Always have.” The words filled me, sank down into my soul, and took up residence there. It didn’t matter that it was sudden and we hardly knew one another anymore. We were young and falling in love with every touch. Words I thought I would never say shot out of my mouth.

  “I love you too.” He lifted his head and smiled at me, a smile that warmed his gray eyes until they were a polished-mercury color. I knew deep down that I was ruined, but looking into his eyes, knowing that I’d put happiness in them, made me feel just a little bit more whole. It was then that I realized I had fallen irrevocably, unequivocally, and absolutely in love with Tommy Johnson, and there was no turning back.

  I WAS still asleep in Tommy’s bed when I heard the front door slam. We’d made out for nearly an hour, rubbing along one another like eels until we’d reached the pinnacle in perfect unison despite the fact that we both still had our clothes on. His release had triggered my own, and it had been the best and worst orgasm of my life. The best because I’d finally thrown my heart into my body as I’d fallen, and the worst because I knew it could only get better and I could easily become addicted to the feel of Tommy against me. The possibility of vulnerability left me cold.

  I’d fallen asleep with his warm breath ruffling the hair on the back of my neck, the firm grip of his arm as he had encircled my waist, and the hard press of his body against my back from head to foot. At some point he’d pulled a blanket over the two of us, and then I’d been out like a light.

  My eyes didn’t want to open when I heard the noise of the door, but I’d forced them open anyways. I sat up and looked down at the sleeping boy beside me. He was beautiful when he slept. Maybe Mark and Charles would let me stay over sometime. I could get used to having him beside me.

  I gently shook his shoulder. He blinked as he came awake, confusion crossing his face for a moment before realization and memory reminded him what we’d been doing. He looked up at me.

  “Hi,” he said. I blushed; I knew it from the warmth that stole over my cheeks.

  “Someone is here,” I said, glancing away with a small, embarrassed smile. He grunted and sat up beside me. It was really hard to resist the urge to bury my head against him. I’d left a small hickey on the side of his neck, and I was proud of it. It was my claim to him. He reached over me and fiddled with his cell phone until he got it open.

  “That’s probably Danny. School’s out now.” He shut the phone and looked at me, then wrapped me up in his arms again. “What do you want to do?” I knew what he was asking, but I didn’t want to make the decision.

  “Up to you.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Tommy said after a moment of consideration.

  I couldn’t help the question that slipped out before I could filter it. “Does this mean we’re dating?”

  Tommy gave me a slow smile. “I hope so.” I was thrilled. I kissed him hard on the mouth because I didn’t trust that I could say something without sounding like an idiot.

  “Drive me home?” I asked. I didn’t know where I was, really, so I couldn’t exactly walk. He nodded and kissed my cheek. We just couldn’t seem to get enough of doing that.

  He ducked into the bathroom to change clothes as we heard footsteps walking up the stairs. After he was finished, he dug out an old shirt of his that I could throw on over my clothes to cover the stains that were clearly evident on my jeans. My wrists ached a little bit, but it was nothing that couldn’t be cured with some aspirin when I got home.

  I got into his car, and he started the engine. He smiled at me before turning around to back out of his driveway. We drove in relative silence on the way to my place, with only my quiet directions to interrupt the cozy quality of just existing next to one another.

  The drive was longer than I thought it would be, and we fell into conversations that were long overdue.

  “So about when you came out…,” he began. “I’m sorry for calling you names.” He gripped the steering wheel. “I was just struggling with who I was, you know? I think I was more pissed that you were so, I don’t know, confident in it. I was just starting to realize that I was getting hard-ons for guys in the locker room at wrestling practice and here you were announcing to the world that you liked guys and everyone could just shove off. I envied that.”

  I nodded in unde
rstanding. “I get it. A lot of people are like that, I think.” I paused. Should I tell him? Oh hell, I’d already broken my rules today. “I came out that day because of you.”

  His eyes widened. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. I had been sketching your initials into my art book all year, and I’d finally had enough of trying to lie that they were actually a girl’s name who went to another school. Fifth period seemed perfect. I didn’t really even think that you wouldn’t be cool with it. I guess that was a little naive, but I thought if I told everyone in class that I could talk to you afterwards on the way to the pep rally,” I explained.

  “But instead, me and my friends decided to jump you,” he finished for me. I nodded. Not my finest memory. “So when I came out freshman year, you were getting me back for more than just trying to beat you up, huh?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. And, you know, about your mom.”

  “Thanks,” he said tightly. We fell silent for another couple blocks, and he reached over and entwined our fingers.

  “Hey, J?” Tommy asked as he turned onto my street. I could tell by the look on his face that he was gnawing on something. This wasn’t a great part of town, and the apartments I lived in looked like you’d need penicillin shots just to walk up the steps. It wasn’t the image I projected, so when people found out I lived here, it raised a few questions. Let’s just say rich folks throw away a lot of clothes, and Goodwill is my best friend.

  “What is it?”

  “Were you and Cade involved before?” The question hadn’t been what I was expecting. I hesitated.

  “Depends on what you think ‘involved’ means. We fooled around occasionally.” I didn’t want to relive that happy episode of insanity. “I don’t know what happened. We had a good thing going on the side, but then he got a little nuts on me.” My wrists attested to that.

  “It was just sex?” Tommy asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it was just sex. Not like us.” I had to make that distinction. I had to make him understand that he was special to me.