Cast Off (17 page)

“Hey, man.” Dylan clapped him on the shoulder from behind, and Ian stepped out of the circle he was standing in to speak to him. “They’re bringing out the cake. It’s picture time.”

Oh, cake picture time. Just as the birthdays were sacrosanct, the cake picture was an inviolable rite of the birthday party. It had morphed slightly over time. Always was the picture with his parents and all the sibs standing behind the cake. Then spouse and kids of the birthday target, then the whole extended family. If the birthday target didn’t have a spouse or kids, the family just took two pictures. Ian smiled.

“Be there in a minute.” Maybe when his birthday rolled around, he’d get three pictures. He turned back to excuse himself and noticed Rick missing.

“Where’d Rick go?”

Leon glanced behind them and waved a hand. “Dunno. Back there. Bathroom, maybe?”

Ian pressed his lips together and scanned the back of the room. No familiar blond head appeared. The restrooms weren’t the only thing back there. There was also an emergency exit, and Rick’s first response to stress was flight.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Ducking into the hallway, he bypassed the restrooms. Rick might be taking a leak, but if he’d left the building, Ian wouldn’t have much time to catch him at all. The man was sneaky and quick.

From habit borne from years of practice, Ian opened the door and stuck a quarter in the door jamb to prevent himself from getting locked out and stepped out into the back.

“Rick!”

The man had just about broken free of the area sheltered by trees and out into the parking lot. But he still paused and turned.

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

Rick closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they were filled with mocking contempt of the sort Ian hadn’t had directed his way since their fight at Kurt’s housewarming.

“Darling, I’m leaving, obviously. Not much of a scene here and it’s Saturday night. The clubs are waiting.”

Ian gritted his teeth. Rick hadn’t been to a club on a Saturday night in weeks, as he had good cause to know. Saturday night had become one of their regular nights to hang out. “What happened?”

Like two opposite charges, he and Rick approached each other.

“Nothing happened.” A faint sneer twisted Rick’s words, hiding the hurt that lay beneath. Hurt that Ian wouldn’t have been able to see six weeks ago.

“Hey. Whatever it is, we can fix it.” Ian stepped into Rick’s space, unable to stand how carefully Rick held himself, like he wanted to run or hug himself, but didn’t dare do either. He cupped Rick’s chin, tilted his face up, and did what he’d been longing to do for weeks.

The first press of lips was light, tender, and sweet. Ian had a moment to revel in the fact that Rick wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t taking him to task for breaking a rule, wasn’t acting like a cornered cat. Then he stopped thinking about anything but Rick’s mouth, lips, and tongue, and where kissing could lead. Kissing had never seemed as vital to his existence as it was this very moment.

Rick’s mouth opened under his and Ian took advantage, letting his tongue dive in to twine and play with Rick’s. The tartness of the wine Rick had been drinking disappeared after a moment, leaving nothing but Rick behind. Was tonight the night he moved things on to benefits? Had he kept them on edge long enough to convince Rick they could be good together on a more permanent basis? Rick’s compliance—no, his active participation—convinced him he’d managed to allay Rick’s fears of commitment.

Relaxing into the kiss, he slid his hands away from Rick’s face to pull him close. With no conscious direction from his brain, his hips ground against Rick like that last time they danced in a club. Rick felt so good in his arms. Better than anything else.

Rick pushed him away, and Ian stumbled from the unexpected force.

He stepped forward again. His unevolved lizard brain wanted nothing more than to continue the pleasure, and hadn’t quite caught up to current events. Rick was angry. Angry like Ian had never seen.

“No. No more.”

“Why?” The lizard brain still held too much control, because Ian was a hell of lot more eloquent than that.

“Shouldn’t you be doing that with your
date
?” This time the sneer wasn’t faint, at all.

“My date? I don’t have a date.”

“Oh, really? And what about Leon?”

“Leon? You’re not jealous of Leon, are you?” Ian hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the possibility had warmed him inside. Sure, Leon was cute, but he was a baby. Even if Leon had been his own age, he just wasn’t Rick. But the question made Rick angrier.

“Of course I’m not jealous,” he snapped. “Why would I be?”

Ian wasn’t sure where to go from here. After watching his sibs reel in their chosen mates, he’d thought he had this all under control, but he’d never been in a relationship before, and he was one hundred percent certain he wasn’t going to be able to jolly Rick out of his anger like he would one of his brothers.

“Leon’s just a friend.”

“Right. And that’s why you invited him here.”

“He is.” Rick’s antagonism was pricking Ian’s anger, but he did his best to control it. “I knew Kurt was going to invite you, so I didn’t. I thought it would help take the pressure off, since it was a family thing.”

“Oh, really? And what difference should that make to me?”

Ian threw out his arms in exasperation. “After all the time we’ve spent together? I thought you’d be happy about it.”

“Please. If you wanted to date Leon, you could have just told me.”

“I don’t want to date him. Leon’s a friend.”

“Like I’m a
friend
? Bullshit. That’s why you were at Anaconda that night. You were looking for Leon, or someone like him.”

True, sort of. He’d gone because he’d figured he’d find someone who wasn’t Rick and wouldn’t even remind him of Rick, but fate had had other ideas. “I went home with you, though.”

“Oh, don’t make any sacrifices on my account. You’re free to seek out whatever companionship you want. If the scent of Clearasil turns you on, you go for it. No strings, no entanglements, remember?”

This time, the sarcasm about Leon’s youth and contemptuous sneer on the face of the man Ian was fucking falling for was too damned much.

“No strings…. Who the fuck are you kidding? Haven’t you figured it out yet? Friends are strings. Friends are entanglements. And you need to get it through your head—we’re already more than friends, even without the sex.”

Rick’s eyes flared wide at Ian’s anger, and he wanted to call back his ill-thought-out words as soon as he’d said them.

“Well, I’m cutting this string now. We’re done, Ian. Whatever you thought this was, it’s over. Don’t call me again.”

Eyes glittering, Rick squared his shoulders.

“Wait, what? Rick, don’t—”

The door behind him burst open and hit the side of the building with a metallic bang, making Ian whirl.

His dad leaned out of the opening. “There you are, boyo. We’ve been looking all over. Inside, now. I’m starting to think Erin might be pregnant too, the way she’s carrying on about waiting for you and that cake. It’s picture time.”

Ian nodded and turned to beg Rick to come inside, give him a chance to… do whatever he had to do to reverse that final-sounding pronouncement, but he was already gone.

“Come on, now. What are you doing out here, anyway?” His dad eyed the area. “Hmm. It’s getting pretty overgrown out here. We’ll have to fix that, maybe add a few more lights. Don’t want anyone thinking they can get up to any funny business out here.”

Ian wasn’t sure if his dad thought he’d been up to “funny business” but it didn’t matter. Rick was gone and his father would kill him if he took off now. Resigned, he followed his dad inside. His dad continued to talk, but all Ian could hear were Rick’s words on repeat. Done. They couldn’t be done. Minutes ago they’d been kissing, kissing like Ian had never kissed anyone else. He’d been so sure of Rick. They
couldn’t
be done.

His eyes burned, and he swallowed heavily. The last thing he wanted was to explain to everyone what had happened. He could put a good face on this until after the cake cutting and somehow manage to smile on command, although he’d never felt less like smiling in his life.

L
AUGHTER
grated on Ian’s ears. Even when he was scoping out hot guys and pretending he was checking out women, he’d always liked the bustle and noise of the bar. It energized him in a way. Hell, the party room wasn’t even as full as it could be, but the noise and number of people buffeted him like body blows. Nothing compared to the near mortal wound Rick had delivered just moments ago, and he was still absorbing the shock of it all.

This was his first stab at a relationship of any sort, and there was no way his heart should be involved this soon, but it must be. This hollowed-out feeling in his chest was more than simply a bruised ego. With six sibs who never pulled a metaphorical punch, he was more than familiar with the sensations of bruised ego and hurt feelings. This was so far beyond he had no idea why people kept trying to find this. His failure was nearly enough to send him back into the closet.

“Come on, Ian, you’re the last one.” Erin beckoned him over with a huge smile. A woman shouldn’t be so happy to be turning forty-five, but his eldest sister, just like their mom, never seemed to mind the advancing years. Then again, neither of them was making the march alone. Although Ian had his family, he’d met the man who he’d be able to share his life with, in a way he couldn’t with sibs and parents.

Ian approached the table that held an enormous birthday cake. Without question or complaint, Ian let his sisters position him for the photos, tucking him into the family between Kurt and Dylan.

“You okay, man?” Kurt whispered while they jostled together for the photo.

Ian couldn’t look him in the eye. Nodding seemed less of a lie, so that’s what he did before plastering a big, fake smile on his face when the bartender, called over to take the pics, yelled “Cheese!”

Two blinding flashes of white later, his mother clapped her hands. “The rest of the family, now.”

Spouses and kids, all used to the routine by now, pushed their way into the huddle to stand with their own “sib.” A hand brushed Ian’s side and he turned his head to look at Kurt.

Grief gripped him by the throat. The hand he’d felt had been Davy’s as he pushed his way into the group and wrapped his arm around Kurt’s waist.

Ian had known. He’d known that day he’d come out to his family that he was the only one who wouldn’t have someone in this photo, but he hadn’t known how much it would ache.

If he hadn’t started falling for Rick, hadn’t imagined Rick standing next to him, part of the O’Donnell clan, maybe he’d only have a lingering sense of remorse and a renewed urge to get out there and date. Problem was, he didn’t want to find anyone else. He didn’t even want to head out to any of his usual haunts to get laid. He was hung up on a guy who never wanted to see him again, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Glancing across the room, he noted Leon standing next to Parker and Ivan. Leon was becoming a good friend and might keep him company at a club, but he wasn’t sure how Rick could even think there was anything between them.

Finally the interminable picture was done, although each couple seemed to have the uncontrollable need to kiss. He stared out at the cheering crowd and more flashes went off as additional pictures were snapped.

Surrounded by family and friends, Ian had never felt more alone in his life. Wasn’t coming out supposed to have fixed that? Wasn’t telling the truth about himself supposed to make him feel whole? It was a relief, sure, that he didn’t have to pretend, but this yearning for Rick ruined what should have been a watershed moment in his life.

His sister handed him a piece of cake on a paper plate, and Ian picked up a fork and cut off a bite out of habit. When he got it to his nose, the sugary sweet scent of the icing made his stomach turn. He set the plate down, the churning in his stomach matching the whirl of his dizzying thoughts.

The noise and laughter in the bar got steadily louder and louder. He had to get the fuck out of here.

He turned, intending to sneak out the back—the same way Rick escaped—in order to avoid any extended conversations. Leon wasn’t a problem. He’d just have to text Leon from the car or home to tell him where he’d gone.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

Damn it. On the days when it was most inconvenient, his mother’s psychic skills peaked.

Ian drew in a deep breath. His eyes burned and his lip trembled, but he managed a credibly strong, “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Ian blinked, surprise pushing back his upset to an almost manageable level. His mother almost never cussed and usually only did so to make a point. He just didn’t know what point she was making now.

“You think I don’t know when something’s wrong with one of my kids?” Her blue-eyed gaze moved to Kurt before landing on Ian again. “Even when he was avoiding us, I knew in my heart. With you right here, under my eyes? I can see how brittle you are right now. I’m your mum and I love you.”

Ian’s ears got hot, a jumble of memories from childhood where his mother’s open love for all her family had embarrassed them all at one point or another. But the birthday girl had started opening presents and no one’s attention was on him and his mom.

He was afraid to speak. Afraid he’d let all that unexpected emotion come tumbling out. But his mother wasn’t going anywhere until she got an answer.

“I think I just got dumped.” He couldn’t manage to speak in anything more than a harsh whisper.

His mom gave him a soft, sad smile and stared into his eyes. “Oh, honey. That boy is as new to this as you are. And he’s scared.”

“I’m scared too.”

She let out a little bleat of laughter. “Not nearly as much as he is. Trust me. He’s adorable, but when I spoke to him at Kurt’s, I thought he was going to bolt like a frightened rabbit.”

Ian frowned and glanced at Leon, who’d never been to Kurt’s, never mind had a chance to talk to his mother. If his mom was going to assume he was falling for anyone, wouldn’t she assume it was Leon? He certainly hadn’t mentioned anything about Rick to his family, although Kurt had to know they’d slept together a couple of times.