Something Like Spring (40 page)

“Enjoying your swimming lessons?”

“Yeah,” Jason replied, keeping his tone neutral. “I am. I can’t really keep up with William’s routine, but I’m trying.”

Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “Must be hard to swim while drooling over William. I can only imagine how much water pours into your slack jaw every morning. Maybe that’s why you look so bloated.”

“Retract those claws,” Bonnie said, trying to lighten the tone. “No need to be mean.”

Kelly wasn’t dissuaded. “It’s the truth, isn’t it, Jason? You’re only there because you wish you could have him.”

Jason wanted to lie, especially with four pairs of eyes awaiting his reaction. He’d like nothing better than to deny his own feelings, but William had no room for liars in his life. “Yeah, I like him. Of course I do. He’s perfect. I’m sure I’m not the only one to fantasize about being with him.”

The other two guys suddenly found it hard to make eye contact. Kelly noticed this, jaw clenching.

“I’ve never fantasized about William!” Bonnie said, waggling her hands comically. “No? Nobody is going to laugh at the lesbian?”

“The thing is,” Jason said, “just because I wish William was mine doesn’t mean I’ll do anything to take him from you.”

“So what’s your plan?” Kelly asked. “You’re just going to follow him around, hoping he and I break up? Pathetic!”

Jason shrugged. “Maybe it is. But that’s not the only reason. I like William for who he is, not what I wish he could be. He’s my friend.”

“That’s right,” Kelly said, turning to leave. “And that’s all he’ll ever be.”

“Hey, at least I like the guy,” Jason called after him. “You act like you can’t stand your own boyfriend!”

Kelly shot a glare over his shoulder as he went, but for once he remained silent.

“Sorry,” Bonnie said when they were alone again. “He’s not usually like that. Kelly is a really great guy, believe me, but I think he feels threatened by you.”

Jason wished he could take comfort in that, but on the drive home, Kelly’s words kept bouncing around in his mind. Maybe he really was being pathetic by hanging around William so much and doing nothing about his feelings. What was the alternative? To destroy their relationship? William wouldn’t respect him for doing so. The idea didn’t sit well with Jason either, but he was beginning to feel trapped. He needed to do
something
. He just didn’t know what.

When he parked Ben’s car in the garage, he wasn’t surprised to see Tim’s car missing. He knew they would be out visiting friends. Jason was looking forward to having the house to himself since misery didn’t always prefer company, but the car parked out front gave him pause. The vehicle was massive and looked even more expensive than Tim’s car. This was confirmed when he bent over to inspect the hood ornament. Below a little silver fairy with her wings extended was a logo of a double R.

“Rolls Royce,” Jason murmured to himself before whistling appreciatively.

Maybe Ben had decided to stay home and was having dinner delivered by an excessively wealthy pizza boy. Jason went inside but found the downstairs both empty and quiet. Puzzled by this, he went upstairs, walking down the hall and peeking into each room, ending with his own. The last thing he expected to find in his bedroom was a fat man stretched out on the bed, a large bottle in one hand, a glass in the other. The man was sitting with his back against the headboard, leisurely sipping champagne. When he spotted Jason, he froze momentarily. Then he moved the glass aside and smiled.

“There’s nothing quite like a teenager’s room,” the man said in a husky voice. “The vague smell of socks and cologne, the buzz of sexual frustration in the air… Then there’s the mess—not quite as careless as a child, and yet, not so boringly organized as an adult. I bet you know where everything is in this room, don’t you?”

Jason glanced at the floor, at the few days’ worth of clothing he’d meant to pick up and the scattering of half-read magazines. He didn’t think it looked
that
bad. And who was this guy to judge? Who was he at all? His hair was short, gray on the sides and lighter on top where he was balding. The suit was tight against his body but finely tailored, if not slightly crinkled at the moment.

“My name is Marcello,” the man said, grunting as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He set the bottle of champagne on the side table, and after a moment’s thought, picked it up again and set down the empty glass instead. “Now then, who are you and how long have they been keeping you secret?”

“Where are Ben and Tim?” Jason asked.

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Do they know you’re here?”

Marcello chuckled. “Heavens, no!”

“I’m calling the police.”

Marcello appeared shocked. “But I’m one of Tim’s dearest friends! My goodness, you can’t have lived here for long or surely they would have mentioned me by now. I’ve known Tim since he was your age. I daresay I’m rather like a father to him. Or like a big brother. Better yet, a younger brother. Ha ha!”

Jason just stared.

“Look, I have a business card here somewhere.” Marcello dug in his wallet, mumbling to himself. “Hm. Fresh out, but I found this. Here.”

A green bill was extended toward him, and even from the doorway, Jason could see the “100” printed in one corner. He stayed in the doorway, not daring to come closer. Then again, a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars. As quick as he could, he stepped forward and snatched it out of the man’s hand.

“Like feeding a baby goat at a petting zoo.” Marcello chuckled. “Very good. We’ve established trust. I used to bring slices of ham with me just so the dog wouldn’t chase me around the house. Such a fierce little creature!”

“Where is she?” Jason asked.

“Chinchilla? She’s outside, but I refuse to watch her do her business. I don’t have the stomach for it, which is saying a lot considering all the things I’ve seen.”

Jason felt a little better. Marcello knew the dog’s name and her habits. That was a start.

“Thanks for the money,” Jason said, pocketing it. “I’m still calling the police.”

Marcello barked laughter. “As well you should! I’ve trespassed into Tim’s home more times than I can count. Before you summon the authorities, tell me your name.”

“Jason.”

Marcello looked expectant.

“Grant.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason Grant. And what are you doing in Ben and Tim’s life? I assume the purpose isn’t illicit, since I’ve been through their bedroom top to bottom and didn’t find anything of interest. Hopelessly vanilla! I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Huh?”

“For such a delicious couple, they’re lacking in shameful secrets. Especially in the bedroom. Are you telling me you haven’t snooped since you’ve been here?”

Jason squirmed. “Maybe just a little.”

“Excellent! So what
are
you doing here?”

He realized that Marcello had turned the questioning on him, but Jason lacked the energy to turn it back again. “I met Jace a long time ago, and he said if I ever needed help, I should call. By the time I did—”

“Very tragic occurrence,” Marcello said gravely. “So Ben and Tim decided to take you in. I assume, then, that your family doesn’t accept who you are?”

“I don’t have any family,” Jason said. “I’m on my own.”

“Ah! A fellow orphan.” Marcello patted the mattress next to him. “Come sit next to me.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, but found himself doing what he was told. As soon as he was seated, Marcello offered him the bottle. When Jason shook his head, Marcello shrugged and took a swig directly from it.

Jason eyed him. “It’s a little early to be drinking.”

“That would be true,” Marcello said, “if I had gone to sleep last night. As it stands, it’s really quite late to be drinking.”

“Oh. So how do you know Tim?”

“I’d like to think it’s he who knows me,” Marcello said. “Let’s try an experiment. Usually when meeting someone new, we present our best side and try to make a good first impression. Instead of doing that, let’s reveal the ugly truth. What’s your Achilles’ heel, the thorn in your lion’s paw?”

“You’re very confusing,” Jason said.

“Yes, but we’re having a moment here. Tell me your greatest weakness, your ugliest fear, the biggest problem plaguing you.”

Instead of answering, he glanced between Marcello and the champagne a few times.

“Perhaps I have had a few too many.” Marcello set the bottle next to the empty glass. “Very well, I shall go first. I deal in beautiful men. That’s my livelihood. If it involves male beauty in any shape or form, I’ve found a way to profit from it. I’m most proud of my modeling agency. Much of what I dabble in is illicit at best, but my artistic integrity shines when it comes to my photography. We provide images of unparalleled quality to the finest fashion labels in the world and have catered events so illustrious that even I had trouble getting my name on the list.”

“Sounds horrible,” Jason said. “No wonder you couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Ah!” Marcello said. “But with success comes pressure. Technology has changed the world, and not in the way I had hoped. In the old days, the key was to find the most beautiful faces or steal them from your competitors. These days, even I could slip into a pair of bikini briefs and have a team of digital artists shape me into perfection. True beauty has become meaningless.”

“So your business isn’t doing well?” Jason asked.

“Business is fine financially, but we are losing prestige. Once my agency stood out from the rest. Now we are slowly becoming a face among the crowd. So I ask you, my newest friend, what would you do in my situation?”

Jason shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t bother at all. I’ve never found models to be hot. At least not in magazines. They always look too perfect, almost inhuman. You might as well photograph shop mannequins if you don’t want any flaws.”

“So you are suggesting,” Marcello said, “that models should have acne and eating habits as vivacious as my own?”

“Maybe. I just think guys in real life are hotter. Take someone like Tim. He’s gorgeous, but if he was going to be in a magazine, I bet you’d cover him in makeup first, then photograph him in black and white, and then airbrush anything imperfect out of the final photo. That seems crazy to me because, well…” Jason dug out his cell phone and tapped at the keys. “Look.”

The photo he brought up was of Ben pointing a garden hose at Tim. The water, frozen in time, was just inches away from splashing Tim in the face. His terrified expression was comedy gold and made Jason laugh every time. Marcello chuckled too, but also paused, noticing the same thing Jason had. Despite Tim’s eyes bulging and his mouth hanging open at an angle, he looked great, because the photo had captured something endearingly vulnerable.

“I should have locked that man into a ten-year modeling contract,” Marcello said wistfully.

“I don’t know about that,” Jason said, “but maybe you should try letting your models be human. That way people can actually relate to them.”

Marcello nodded. “You might be on to something. The raw approach is hardly new, but with my expertise, maybe I can put a new twist on it. Send me that photo, would you?”

For his age, Marcello knew his way around a phone. Better than Jason, arguably. In short order, they had exchanged contact information and the photo had been transmitted, along with the next one in sequence that showed Tim getting a face full of water.

“Now then,” Marcello said, “maybe I can be of equal assistance to you. What’s his name?”

Jason’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

Marcello raised an eyebrow. “At your age, trouble comes in two flavors. It’s either money or love, and you weren’t quite desperate enough for that one hundred dollar bill I offered you.”

“I still took it,” Jason said, but then he shook his head. “His name is William, and I think he likes me, but he already has a boyfriend.”

“Simple enough,” Marcello said. “You need only present what assets you have. For instance, I assume you can play the guitar sitting over there?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah.”

“And have you played it for William yet?”

“No,” Jason said. “Look, it’s going to take more than a song. His boyfriend is really really pretty.”

“You’d be surprised,” Marcello said, “how quickly the eye adjusts to what is beautiful. I have the most wonderful view outside my bedroom window, but after living there for so long, I rarely notice it anymore. Likewise, I work around handsome men all day long, and despite how pretty any of them are, my eye is always looking for the next great find.”

“Ben and Tim still look at each other.”

“That is love,” Marcello said, “and is quite different indeed. Does William love his boyfriend?”

Jason hadn’t seen any moments between them like what Ben and Tim shared. Or even the way Caesar had been pained by the idea of cheating on Nathaniel, as if it was tearing his heart apart. At times, William seemed almost reluctant to be with Kelly. “He says he loves him, but for the wrong reasons.”

Marcello took this in. “I can’t think of a more succinct way to describe a dying relationship.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. You’re arrived early on the scene, that’s all. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “I feel like there’s more to it. William never talks about his past. It feels like he’s running from something.”

“We all have our secrets,” Marcello said, attention on his phone again. “Give me his last name.”

“Townson. What are you doing?”

Marcello finished keying something in. “I’ll poke around for you, see what I can find.”

“About William? You really don’t need—”

“What are you doing here?” Tim shouted as he rushed into the room. “Get away from him!”

“Hello to you too!” Marcello said, looking offended.

“Did he offer you money?” Tim said, looking Jason over for signs of injury. “Or worse, did he offer you advice?”

“Both,” Jason said.

“Oh god!” Tim turned on Marcello. “What kind of work did you trick him into? It better not be anything less innocent than modeling.”

“Consulting work,” Marcello said, standing and brushing off his suit. “One hundred dollars per session. He’s already been paid in full.”