Loving him, p.11
Loving Him, page 11
part #1 of Hearts Intertwined Series
Before I can respond, she jumps away like a happy squirrel, her dog seemingly lulled to sleep by the sway of her backpack as she jumps into another pedestrian’s path to chat them up. “Hey! Happy Pride Month.” I hear her greet her new captive audience, and I laugh as I continue down the sidewalk toward the café. Black is meeting me there as he always does on Saturday mornings. I peruse the flyer and am pleasantly surprised to see well over a dozen events outlined for the month. It all culminates in a local Pride parade in this neighborhood. I must not have been paying attention to where I was walking because I run headlong into someone shorter than me, almost knocking them over.
“Oomph, oh, I’m sorry,” I spurt out as I look from the flier to the person I have almost flattened. Much to my surprise, it is Tilly.
“Aubrey!” she greets me, a flirtatious smile on her face as she winks at me. “Where’s Black?”
I laugh because I recognize the question for what it is: snooping. “Now why do you think I would know that?” We both laugh because Black has spent every free moment with me since we met, including a few more trips to Tilly’s place.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she quips, “maybe because you seem to be his favorite person in the world.
Caught off guard, I blush, hard. Tilly points at my face and doubles over with laughter.
I fake huff at her but cannot help laughing at my own expense. I am surprised when she pulls me into a bear hug, especially considering that she is 5’4” at most. When she lets me go, she notices the pink flyer in my hand.
“Oh, are you planning on attending any of the events? You really should. The Sirens enter the float competition every year. We haven’t won yet, but there is always a first time for first place.” Just like the hippie rainbow girl, Tilly’s excitement is catching.
“I’ve never been to any Pride celebrations before.”
Tilly looks surprised for a moment then she grins. “We’ll just have to remedy that.” Glancing down at her watch for a moment, she winces. “I’m late, but stop by the bar next Saturday morning, and we’ll chat about it. Bring Black with you.” Without waiting for any response on my part, she waves the hand with a palm tattoo at me and hurries on down the street, leaving me standing in front of the coffee shop.
I pull the door open and see Black seated at our usual table. If it is free, we sit at the table we first met at every time we come here. No discussion, no outright decision to do so, but I love the little ritual. Black already has his cup of coffee doctored up with cream, and he nods toward the to-go cup on the table across from his.
“All black,” he teases, his eyes shining happily. Instead of sitting in the chair he just shoved out from the table with his foot, I stand over him, grip his hair at the nap of his neck, and drop my head to kiss him. He chuckles when I pull away. “Good morning to you too, Aubrey.”
Grinning, I take the proffered seat and open the lid to blow on the coffee. Black continues to chuckle at me.
“What? They make it too hot here. You don’t want me to burn my tongue off, do you? Then what would I kiss you with?”
Black just shakes his head and takes another drink of his doctored-up brew. Once I am sure the coffee won’t scald my tongue off, I take a sip. “Umm, that is good.”
Black chuckles at me again. “What do you have planned for today?”
“What? You expect me to plan everything? So lazy,” I tease him. He grins at me and slips his foot against mine. “Are you playing footsie with me?”
He laughs. “Maybe.”
“Hey,” I interject as I remember the flier I set down on the table when I picked up my coffee. “This hippie girl in the street gave me a flier for Pride month events. We should check some out.”
Black swallows his drink of coffee and looks at me thoughtfully. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “we should.”
I am becoming ridiculously excited. “Tilly invited us to the bar next Saturday morning. She didn’t say, but I think she is planning something for the parade.”
Black nods slowly, thoughtfully, a little quieter than I expected him to be. “She probably is.”
I am a little disappointed by his noncommittal tone but decide to lay my cards out on the table. “I’ve never been to any Pride events before, not even a parade.” I am feeling a bit sheepish now and I drop my gaze from his, ostensibly so I can sip my coffee, but really so I can hide my embarrassed expression.
“Do you want to go?” Black asks gently, and I raise my eyes to find his face soft, contemplative.
My heart flutters, and I forget everything other than how hard I am falling for him. “What?”
Black laughs softly. “I asked if you wanted to go to the parade. Tilly and the Sirens will definitely have a float there.”
“You’ll go with me?” I’m not sure why I’m feeling so shy about this. Maybe because I feel silly that I have never been to a Pride celebration before.
Black gives me that sweet and earnest smile that never fails to send my heart pitter pattering. “Sure, Aubrey, if you want to go.”
“I do.” It comes out breathily. I feel relieved, though I’m not sure why I thought Black would judge me. “I’m a Pride virgin. You will have to be gentle with me,” I tease, suddenly feeling more like myself.
Black laughs loudly. “Oh, Pride virgins are my favorite kind.”
We must have been talking too loudly because I hear a snort of annoyance from somewhere behind me. I turn and see an older woman glaring our way before she huffs and puffs her way out the door. When I turn back to Black, we both dissolve into laughter. As we drink our coffee and the conversation turns to other things, I contemplate how different my relationship with Black is from any other I have had in my adult life. Guys either don’t like how serious I am about my business or find me too silly for their taste. But Black is nothing like them. He seems to like my silliness, my need to make people, particularly him, happy. He is as dedicated to his career as I am to mine. Thus far, we have had no conflict in that respect. Whenever Black seems lost in painful thoughts, I always try to pull him back to me with some joke or silliness. I watch him as I drink my coffee. We have fallen into a companionable silence. I wonder if he is thinking about me as I am thinking about him. Feeling a little bit feisty now, I pull my foot up his leg from his ankle to his knees. Black gives me an amused and interested glance.
“Are you playing footsie with me now?”
“Maybe.”
Black laughs at my reiteration of his own response. “What do you want to do today?”
“Something fun.”
Black smiles, rising from his chair to stretch. I eye him appreciatively as he pulls his arms above his head and bends his back to pull out the muscles. His shoulders are wider than mine, and he is all muscle from the distinct vee of his torso down to his trim hips and muscular thighs. Black clears his throat to get my attention back to his eyes. His expression is amused and wicked, his grin playful and a hint naughty.
“Do you like what you see?” he drawls, echoing what he said to me the first day we meet.
I can’t help laughing as he strides to my chair and looks down at me like I am something he wants to eat. He takes my free hand and pulls me to my feet. He steals a quick kiss and we both grin and laugh.
“It doesn’t matter what we do,” I breathe out. “As long as I get to do it with you.” Black’s dark eyes shine brightly, and his smile is the sweet, shy, earnest one that I cherish.
“Ditto.”
Barking out a laugh, I favor him with a suspicious look. “You did not just quote Patrick Swayze from Ghost, did you?”
Black laughs again, and we tease each other as we walk out of the coffee shop, hand in hand.
Chapter 14
The next Saturday morning dawns bright and sunny. I wake with a slight feeling of unease, no doubt because of the plans Aubrey and I made for today. I try to shake it off with a shower and an extra cup of coffee before I leave home to meet Aubrey at the café.
Aubrey smiles so softly and sweetly at me when he spies me come in the door. For a moment, my emotions overwhelm me, and I have to blink hard not to cry. Aubrey is so much more than I ever expected him to be. I just hope I can manage an even keel while taking him to all the events of Pride month. By the time I make it to our favorite table, Aubrey has his head tilted back expectantly, clearly waiting for a kiss. Obliging him because my need for the physical contact matches his, I linger a moment longer against his lips.
“Morning,” he whispers against my mouth, his bright emerald eyes dancing. Straightening back up to standing, I tip my head toward the counter, indicating my need for coffee. He grins and nods. By the time the surly teenaged barista manages to give me my cup, Aubrey has come over to wait with me. He slips his hand in mine, and after I doctor up the cup of Joe with milk and sugar, which causes Aubrey to fake shudder, we walk out the café doors hand in hand.
It takes mere minutes to walk the early Saturday morning streets to Tilly’s place. No vehicles grace the parking lot but Tilly’s hog, so we must be the first to arrive. The front door is unlocked, but ever polite, Aubrey knocks first then pushes the door open and calls out “hello” as he leads the way inside. Boxes of float decorations grace the counters and the tops of the tables Tilly has pushed together for this planning session with the Sirens. Tilly stands behind the bar, tapping her fingers impatiently against the counter as she waits for her coffee machine to finish making the pot. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she grins sleepily at us.
“Good morning boys.”
Aubrey walks to the bar and leans against it, immediately falling into conversation with Tilly. I look around the room from my vantage point near the door. Memories plague me, and I’m once again unsure this was such a good idea. After pouring herself some coffee, Tilly comes around the counter and nods toward the boxes.
“So, you guys up for the cause?”
Aubrey looks at me with such a joyful smile across his beautiful face I want to cry. But an uglier emotion crashes through me as I remember the last happy face I saw at Pride, just a few short years ago. I feel the blood drain from my face, and Aubrey's countenance falters. He looks like he is about to ask me what is wrong, when I practically yell, "No! We can't."
A confused look of shock, dismay, then vibrant anger light up Aubrey's face. Beautiful is my first thought. My second thought is Oh, shit, what did I just do? I don't have time to contemplate it as Aubrey's face hardens as he grabs my arm and starts pulling me toward the door.
"We will be right back," he somehow manages to sound pleasant as he throws that line over his shoulder at Tilly as he practically frog marches me to her front door. Before he shoves through the door, he pulls me to face him and grits out, "May I speak to you a moment?" But it’s a declaration of intent and not a question, as he drops my arm and slams the door open, leaving me no option other than to follow him out into the sunshine.
* * *
As soon as that door closes behind us, I shove Black back against the same wall that I kissed him against that very first night.
"First, how dare you answer for me? Tilly asked us both if we wanted to help and you just said no, as if you would know my reaction. Second, why did you say no? Third, are you embarrassed by me? Or just in public?”
I cannot believe that Black, of all people, has done this to me. After all of those boring, staid motherfuckers who wanted me to mute myself, turn myself down, I cannot believe what Black just did. It’s not like I am flamboyant as fuck, I like what I like and enthusiastically so. I just never expected Black to do the same thing to me that they had.
Black swallows hard, clearly fumbling for an explanation of his little outburst. "I did this before with someone important to me."
"So, what, I'm not important enough? Oh, fuck you, Black."
"No! Aubrey! That's not what I meant."
"Then what do you mean?"
Black hesitates.
"Oh, no, we are not doing this again. Fine, you do whatever. I'm going back in there to tell Tilly that I will be helping her with her float. You made a mistake introducing me to your friends if you didn't want them to like me.”
I drop my hands from his chest and turn to go. But Black grabs me by the arm, stopping my forward momentum. I whirl back around and shake Black's hand off of my arm.
"What? Speak now, Black, or forever hold your goddamn peace! I'm done!"
Black grabs me again and pulls me close. I fight for a second then just stand in Black's grasp, staring him hard in the face. "What. Do. You. Want? I'm leaving."
"No," Black's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry, Aubrey. It was automatic."
"Sorry isn't good enough when I don't know what the fuck your problem is."
"It's not you."
"Well, you could have fucking fooled me."
My anger is slightly diminishing, back down to a simmer from a rolling boil.
Black's hold on me tightens, as he brings one hand up to brush the hair back from my face. "I'm sorry."
"It doesn't count if you don't say what you are sorry for, and I swear to god, if you say because you are upset, then I will probably bite you and not in the way you like."
Black has the fucking audacity to chuckle at that. I try to struggle out of his grasp again, but his arms are suddenly like iron bands, pulling me into his chest. I want to scream, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself. Instead, I quirk up my left eyebrow and say, with sarcasm dripping from my words, "Oh, are you going to kiss it and make it all better now? That doesn't work when all I want are your words, your words explaining what the fuck just happened in there?! You went white as a fucking ghost as soon as Tilly even mentioned the Pride parade and you tripped over your goddamn tongue to decline an invitation extended to both of us!"
"I haven't gone to a Pride parade since my parents died. It used to be something I did with my mother. My dad would wear one of those cheesy ‘I love my gay son’ T-shirts. It was a big deal to her, to them both, to show their support of me."
"You could have fucking told me that, Black."
"I know, I should have."
"So, why didn't you?"
"Because it hurts too much."
"Black, as I told you once before, that is not a good enough excuse. What the hell am I supposed to do if you keep hiding things from me? This was important. You knew Pride was coming up. You even knew I wanted to go, with you…to my first Pride parade. Hell, you were the one who invited me."
"I know Aubrey, I'm truly sorry. It just popped out."
"What I want to know is why?" Fuck it all, I'm crying now. This hurts far worse than I realized a moment ago. I was too blinded by anger, but now that is wearing off, my chest aches. I thought Black was different. I thought he liked me for me. Hell, I really thought he was falling in love with me like I'm falling in love with him. Well, you were wrong, Aubrey, for about the fiftieth fucking time. As soon as the word “no” fell from his lips, I felt the same as I had when other guys gave me side eye for my abundant enthusiasm and sass, or my stockpile of pop culture references. Disappointed, sad, and annoyed at being found to be “too much.” But considering how I feel about him, the rejection in that word makes me feel so much worse. Part of me wants to just reason it all away, so what if he doesn't want to go to Pride with me? I can go myself. But that would be lying to myself, and I simply refuse to do that.
"I wanted to go with you, Black, to my first Pride parade." I'm practically whispering now, and my gaze has dropped. I can't stand to look into his eyes when I'm fucking crying over, well, fuck, I don't even know what I'm crying over because Black won't fucking tell me. Now I'm angry again, so I jerk my head up to meet his surprisingly worried face. He looks almost as devastated as I feel, and my heart kicks up for a moment. But then I harden it. No, he doesn't get to feel kicked in the gut when he's the one doing the kicking.
"Let me go," I seethe between my teeth.
"My mom,” Black cries out and I'm shocked. First, I'm shocked he spoke at all, and second, I'm shocked that his shout sounds suspiciously like a real answer, not like the half answer he gave me a moment ago.
"What about your mom, Black?" I query him, looking him directly in the eyes. I want to see if he is truly telling me something important or if this is just a distraction, a deflection from the real problem.
Black pulls me even closer and lowers his head and rests it on my shoulder. I'm not resisting his hold any longer, but I sure as hell am not relaxing into it. "Spit it out, Black. This is your one chance to explain what the fuck you just did to me in there."
Black shudders and pulls me closer. I don't resist and find myself cradled against his chest, my head in the crook of his neck, mirroring his stance with me. "It's more than just doing Pride with my parents. My mom loved the Pride parade. She helped organize the first one in this neighborhood and every single one after that, up until her death. I guess I forgot how much it meant to her and how much it meant to me until Tilly asked us to help. I haven't helped in any meaningful way since she died. I'm sorry, Aubrey."
I whisper against his neck, "Why didn't you say anything when we talked about Pride last week? When I told you I have never gone before? Why did you say you would come with me? Why did you invite me to go with you? Why didn't you tell me any of this?" I manage to pull back in Black's arms far enough to look him in the eyes. "You could have told me all of this. But you didn't and what I want to know is why? Why didn't I matter enough for you to tell me?" My voice is dropping to a whisper and the tears that had dried up at the beginning of his explanation are starting to flow again. I look him in the eyes as I state the heart of the matter. "Why didn't you want to tell me?"
Black sighs, and I swear that I see tears glistening on his lashes as he blinks at me. "It's not that, Aubrey. You matter so much. I didn't want to disappoint you and… Well, I thought I could handle it. Then, when Tilly asked just now, I guess the memories hit me and I lashed out. I'm really sorry, Aubrey. I really am. You have to believe me. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I am so fucking sorry that I did. Will you please forgive me?"
