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my first divorce right now, and with any luck, gay marriage
will be legalized soon. Then I‟ll be able to carry on the grand
Brooks tradition of divorces in the double digits.” Blake held
up his glass to toast that course of action.
Mitchell laughed much louder than Blake expected, as if
he‟d said something uproarious.
Tyrone‟s hand tightened painfully on Blake‟s thigh, his
strong fingers clutching him the moment that sound
The WASPs | Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid
54
erupted. He said nothing, though, and his face remained
turned toward his business contact. As godlike as Tyrone‟s
profile was, Blake got sick of seeing it at times like this.
Blake took it as a hint to not draw so much attention to
himself—not that he was the one laughing too loud.
Mitchell clinked his glass against Blake‟s. “You‟re so
bad! I‟m not eager to be divorced, but the rest I can get
behind. Cheers.”
Mitchell sipped his wine; he seemed like the kind of man
who
did
things
in
moderation.
Except
for
laughing,
apparently, as he laughed again before saying, “Most of us
don‟t care much for the law. Tyrone‟s a… unique case. The
rest of us do it because it pays well. Sadly, most of the
lawyer jokes are true.”
“I studied commercial law. I suppose there‟s a fair bit of
money to be made there, but I‟m hoping to be re-inherited at
some point. Possibly after Sunday brunch.” Blake smiled at
the attentive expression on Mitchell‟s pleasant face. “We
always have Sunday brunch. It‟s a tradition between me and
my father. It‟s usually just the two of us, unless he has a
wife at the moment. But what about you? What do you do
that you don‟t care for? Any torrid, unresolved relationship
mistakes to share so that I can feel less like an idiot?”
“Most of my relationship mistakes happened when I was
trying to be someone I wasn‟t… or trying to make someone
else be someone they weren‟t. I try to love people where I find
them now, and hope they do the same for me.” Mitchell said
it in such a gentle, sweet way that it was hard to find him as
annoying as someone more self-righteous would have been.
“I messed up a lot when I was in college. Lots of failed
The WASPs | Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid
55
relationships from trying to convert straight boys, or trying
to let myself be converted into a straight boy. I don‟t… do
casual very well. I‟m looking for someone to invest my time
and energy in, you know? I‟m thirty now. I can‟t stay a kid
forever.”
Mitchell‟s intent gaze seemed to be looking right inside
Blake. “Tyrone isn‟t someone who attaches easily, or who‟s
easily impressed, but he talks about you like you hung the
stars. I see glimmers of that in you, the kind of person who‟d
inspire that kind of loyalty. I‟d very much like to see more.”
Blake‟s mouth felt dry. He took a gulp of wine, both to
settle his nerves and to stall while he tried to think of
something to say. Was this the moment one admitted that
aside from being married, one had never actually had a
relationship? Or even tried, in particular?
Should he mention now that the truth was that his
tennis coach was the longest sexual relationship he‟d had
with another man?
And love. Who said love that much or that easily?
Maybe Mitchell had only said it once, but it seemed like a lot
from someone he‟d just met.
Blake wanted to dash behind the chair, or at least
behind Tyrone, who annoyingly still hadn‟t turned toward
them.
It was time Blake grew up and acted like an adult.
Mitchell seemed like the kind of guy who could handle a
fixer-upper relationship, and Tyrone wouldn‟t put him in any
situation he didn‟t think Blake could deal with. “I think that
would be okay. To see more of me. If you‟d like.”
The WASPs | Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid
56
“What about Saturday night?” Mitchell looked hopeful
and excited, shifting closer in his chair and downing more
wine. His tongue trailed over his lips, but Mitchell didn‟t
seem to notice he was doing it. He gave Blake the distinct
impression that if they weren‟t at a business dinner, Mitchell
would try to kiss him.
At that moment, Tyrone turned toward them and leaned
close, his lips brushing against Blake‟s ear as he whispered,
“Thanks for coming with me, B.” His hand tightened on
Blake‟s thigh, kneading the muscle distractingly. Blake
couldn‟t remember what Mitchell had asked, could barely
remember he was sitting there except for the sense of
someone staring at him. Pulse speeding, Blake sought
Tyrone‟s eyes, needing reassurance that he was doing the
right thing, but Tyrone‟s attention had already returned to
that sweaty Russian.
“Um,
Blake?”
Mitchell
reached
for
Blake‟s
hand,
fingertips brushing against his skin, startling him and
bringing him around to face Mitchell. Once Mitchell was sure
he had Blake‟s attention, he asked, “Do you like dinner
theater?”
Did he like dinner theater? Blake wasn‟t sure. He
wanted to ask Tyrone, because Blake wasn‟t self-aware
enough to answer these kinds of questions; Tyrone was the
one who knew him best. It was Tyrone‟s job to handle these
things.
But Tyrone was busy, shirking this duty just like he was
trying to dump Blake off on Mitchell. Blake had never been
asked on a date—didn‟t think he was the sort guys asked
out. Cruised, yes. All the time. A waiter was cruising him
now. Oh, the simplicity of that interaction. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]