Public Display of Everything (14 page)

"That’s because I'm cursed." I take a swig from my beer and kick my feet up on the table. "Imagine me working in a museum?" I chuckle and loll my head in his direction. "I'd break something invaluable and probably be deported." Or thrown in jail. "I've considered libraries as well, but it's too quiet for me. I like being on the move."

Flynn hums and lies down, placing his bare legs over my thighs.

Throughout our meal, we've kinda lost our clothes. Well, Flynn has. I was half-naked from the get-go, having put on a pair of pajama bottoms after my shower, and Flynn's only in boxers and an undershirt now. And this is us. This is my favorite part of the day. The evening. When it's just the two of us on the couch, today's clothes strewn all over, our stomachs fed.

"History teacher?"

I don’t think so. "I'm not so sure." Setting my beer bottle on the table, I lean back again and start rubbing his calves. "All those young, impressionable minds. I'd fuck them up." Lord help me the day I have a kid of my own. "I'd also make a fool of myself when I trip over a ruler or something." I widen my eyes at Flynn's laugh. "I'm serious. I can make that shit happen."

He throws me a lazy smile but says nothing. 

We grow silent, and I stare right ahead as I gather energy to discuss my past. Which I'm ready to do, but…it's fucking exhausting. Just like when Flynn spoke about that Russell prick.

I'm already tired as it is, but it'd be nice to put this day behind me with everything out in the open.

I sigh. "I should tell you about my family."

That ends the massaging. Flynn sits up straighter and gives me his undivided attention.

"I'm just gonna ramble, okay?" I rub the back of my neck, my stomach knotting up. "If shit doesn’t make sense, let me know."

Flynn nods and pulls his knees close to his chest to rest his chin on them. "Take your time."

Chapter 13

*

Cory,

It hasn’t even been a month, but I've never felt more at home. Perhaps I was never supposed to leave in the first place. I took the boys to the city yesterday to celebrate Jayden's sixth birthday. When Dylan turns eleven in August, I doubt he'll appreciate a trip to the London Zoo, but Jayden definitely enjoyed himself.

I keep looking for you, Cory.

Hope you're well,

Luke

*

I start by explaining a bit more about my parents, because most people automatically believe it's my big, bad Army dad who's the most vicious villain. He's not. He's not a warm blanket of comfort by any means, but the "don’t ask, don't tell" policy he's embraced at least didn’t leave me without a family altogether.

"My mother, on the other hand…" I chuckle humorlessly and stare at my lap. "She used to be this sweet little woman." I've already told Flynn about the museum visits I shared with my mom. Other than that, I loved to help her in the kitchen when I was a kid. I'd cook with her, learn things, do the dishes—be her little helper. Whatever. "She had my pops fooled, that’s for sure." Hell, she had all of us fooled.

Dad still adores her, though.

"My mom's a lot younger than my dad," I go on. "He was on leave and vacationed here in England back in the day, and he met her. At a church thing." I give Flynn a pointed look. "She's not just Catholic; she lives, eats, and breathes it." I refocus on the invisible patterns on my pajama bottoms that I draw with my fingers. "Anyway, Dad was hooked. And Mom was interested but she had conditions. Her own father had died, so it was just her, her mother, and her little brother. They didn’t have much money."

"She wanted them taken care of," Flynn concludes quietly.

I nod. "Dad didn't hesitate. He moved them all to the States and joined them there when he was done in…I think he was stationed in Germany at the time." I know he's been there more than once, because I remember his showing us around when we lived there when I was thirteen. "Virginia became home base, but my parents never stayed long in one place. Didn’t change when I was born, either."

Reaching forward, I drain the last of my beer.

"Not much to say about my childhood." I lean back again. "Aside from the traveling and never really fitting in, I had nothing to complain about." My mom was delighted that I shared her interests in history, culture, and literature. My father enjoyed playing catch with me when he had the time. They were…normal. But I wasn’t stupid. "Considering how my mom tried to force religion down my throat every Sunday, I think I decided on instinct not to tell her I was gay—"

"When did you know?" Flynn murmurs.

I squint at nothing, thinking back. "Uh…at ten or eleven? Something like that. It didn’t really come as a big revelation; I've always known somehow." He nods, and I sigh and face forward once more. "I was in a bad place at first. I didn’t wanna like boys, 'cause…I mean, fuck." I laugh a little. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Mom would always preach about that shit. If she saw a same-sex couple, I got an earful about how morally wrong it was. "But as I grew older, I learned the difference between a parent's opinion and what was really right."

Flynn doesn’t say anything, but he scoots closer to sit beside me and rest his head on my shoulder. He grabs my hand, laces our fingers together, and squeezes affectionately.

"I was fine living in secret for years." At this part of the story, detachment seeps into me. The excitement of fooling around with a couple guys only lasted until I crashed and burned. "During my high school years, we lived in three places. In each school, there was a clichéd crush I pined after." That’s nothing original, and I didn’t suffer any more than any other teenager. But it did wear me down. "They were all straight, of course."

"Ouch."

"Eh." I shrug at that. "It was more about how they let me down, 'cause my stupid ass just had to make my feelings known." I roll my eyes at myself. "One was nice about it, and I moved away shortly after anyway. The second guy stopped being my friend. He avoided me like the plague." I release a breath. "The last guy actually reciprocated. He was unsure about his own sexuality, and we snuck around for a few months. It was enough for me to think I'd fallen in love." I know better now. "But it ended when he showed up at a party with the popular cheerleader on his arm."

"What a completely dimwitted bonehead," Flynn mutters.

I snort a quiet laugh.
That’s one way of putting it
. "Safe to say, I had high expectations for college." Sure, my folks were extremely disappointed in the direction I wanted to take. Apparently it was okay to have history and that stuff as a hobby, but Mom didn’t see it as a career. She and Dad had hopes I'd either follow in his footsteps or become a lawyer or a doctor. But I didn’t care. "I moved across the country and into a shitty little apartment that I shared with three others. I was
out
. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I met new friends and tried my best to move forward."

In retrospect, I moved too fast. I wasn’t ready, and I put too much faith in people I didn’t really know. Just because I didn’t have to hide from my parents faraway didn’t mean I could be honest with others. But I was eager—too eager—to finally have something good. I wanted to be happy.

"I've never had any difficulty gaining friends." The little energy I have left to tell my story won't last much longer. "College wasn’t any different. We were four or five guys who hung out most weekends, and they accepted me for who I was—who I am." Every word I speak brings me closer to Luke, and I'm still in disbelief about the fact that I just might miss that motherfucker. "When I realized I was developing feelings for one of them, I distanced myself a little, 'cause I didn’t wanna go through that shit again. I went to a gay bar a few times…" I grimace at that clusterfuck.

It's like a jungle with only predators. Everyone's on the prowl for a piece of ass.

I guess I'm one of those men who prefer some conversation before I roll on a condom.

"Wasn’t my scene," I settle for saying. "I found my way back to my friends, and Ethan—that’s his name—seemed…relieved…that I'd decided to join them. For the rest of that first night back, he talked my ear off and stayed pretty close. He was drunk off his ass, throwing his arm around me and telling me he'd missed me while I'd been a ghost. I misunderstood his intentions." Just wanting to get this shit over with, I hurry up with the rest. "The day after, I went to his place with hangover food. I, uh…I made a move." I cringe inwardly at the memory of Ethan's face when I got close enough to kiss him. I'd admitted I wanted him, and… "He didn’t take it well."

I brush a finger over my nose, a phantom pain flitting across the bone.

Flynn lifts his head and peers up with a frown. "He
hit
you?"

I smile faintly and shrug. "He apologized after I got back from the ER." I fail to mention that the apology was far from sincere and delivered with disgust still on Ethan's face. Flynn's expression reminds me a lot of what I felt when he told me about Russell. "I don’t care about that anymore." I dip down and kiss him softly. "But it is why I didn’t have the balls to be up-front about my attraction to you in the beginning."

"I'm surprised you had the courage to do it at all." He shakes his head. "I would probably hide in a literal closet for the rest of my life."

I did hide after the Ethan incident, but when you think about it, I'm no different from anybody else who's been rejected. Granted, most get away without broken noses, but whatever.

"I transferred to another school," I admit. "I'd had it with the embarrassment, so I started over in a new town. Again." At that point, romance was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t even hook up with anyone random, 'cause it only reminded me of my fake openness. "It was becoming too difficult to put up with the charade whenever I visited my parents, so I focused on school and work." I hadn't worked before that because my parents supported me. But I knew it was time to come clean to them, and I was smart enough to have money saved up.

Even when I was out, I was in the closet. It all came down to my family. As long as they didn’t know, I'd never get that weight off my chest.

It came to the point where being honest with myself was more important than pleasing my parents. A realization that cushioned the blow when I did tell them the truth.

"I told my parents when I was about to start my third year." I stare straight ahead, feeling absolutely nothing right now. I'm completely numb. "They took it as expected. My father shut down; he actually nodded and said, 'Okay son, let's not discuss this again.' Which…fuck it, I was counting my blessings. I would've been able to live with that."

Before I can go on, Flynn shifts closer and ends up on my lap, his thighs on either side of me. "I've never been a violent person, but…" He lets out a low growling sound and squeezes his eyes shut. "Cory, I'm sick to my stomach, and I have a feeling I haven't heard the worst of it yet." Opening his eyes again, he glares down between us.

I appreciate his words, but I'm too emotionally detached to take comfort from them. I don’t even think I need comfort. In fact, I know I don’t. At least not where my parents are concerned. It stings every now and then, but I've moved on. Not only that, but I've moved on without suppressing shit and being in denial.

The jury's still out in Luke's case, though. If I don’t miss my parents, how can I miss that son of a bitch?

Without responding to what Flynn's said, I trudge forward. "Yeah, so Mom freaked. She went on for hours, sobbing, cursing, praying…suggesting a fucking boot camp to get rid of the 'fag germs'—"

"Please don’t say that."

I blow out a breath, deflating. "When she couldn’t convince me it was a phase, she started packing my shit in boxes. Photo albums, baby clothes, knick-knacks, whatever." I regret leaving those boxes with Luke now. "She…she
mourned
me. While I was still in the house."

"God, Cory." Flynn wraps his arms around my shoulders and kisses my temple.

Memories from back then flood my brain, and I fucking despise it. Let this night be over soon. "Anyway, I packed up my rental and drove away." It was the last time I saw my parents. Dad was watching TV; Mom was crying and reading from the fucking Bible. "At that time, I was living in Chicago, and I didn’t know anyone in Virginia except for my parents and my grandmother." Pretty sure she's dead by now. "So, I started driving toward DC. I knew my uncle was teaching seminars there during that summer."

"If he wasn’t on your side, I don’t know what I'll do," Flynn mutters.

I let out a shaky laugh, bitter and…yeah, still hurt. "I thought so at first." Hell, after what I saw, it should've been guaranteed. "I arrived in the middle of the night, but he was awake, and he definitely wasn’t expecting anybody to visit." Or anybody
else
to visit, I should say. "When I got there, he was at the door saying goodbye to a man. They were kissing."

Flynn faces me warily. "Then he should certainly be in your corner."

"I didn’t mention anything to him," I admit tiredly. "I stayed hidden and didn’t knock on his door until a solid hour had passed."

"Why?"

"Because he had a fiancée named Jennifer and a son waiting for him in Boston."

"Shit, fuck." Flynn's eyes widen.

I nod. "I had no idea he was into guys, and frankly, I had too much shit on my plate to get in the middle of that. I needed a friend, nothing else. He's only ten years older than I am, and our interests are similar." Before then, we only met once a year for Christmas. But with me in my early twenties and him in his early thirties, we weren't merely family anymore. We found common ground in our interests and became fast friends. "I confessed everything to him and half expected him to return the favor. But he didn’t, so I assumed he wasn’t ready. Or maybe there was nothing to tell, 'cause he seemed happy enough with his fiancée."

Flynn doesn’t look impressed. "Happy enough to bring infidelity into the relationship."