Spencer Cohen Series, Book Three (The Spencer Cohen Series 3) (13 page)

“You shouldn’t have to,” he answered. “They should love you, just as you are. Parents should love their kids, right?”

“You’d think so.”

Lewis let out a breath through puffed out cheeks. “You know what pisses me off the most? People feel sorry for our parents. They told everyone you were just an ungrateful teenager, a poor little rich kid who didn’t like living with rules. Can you believe that? Then with Archie, it’s all sympathy for them. Poor them.” He shook his head angrily. “It’s their fault. Every single thing that is fucked up with our family is their fault.”

“What will you do?” I asked, my heart heavy. “I assume you work for the company.”

He nodded. “Can I be completely honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“What I intend to do is bide my time. The old man is a heart attack waiting to happen, and when that happens, I will gladly take his position as the sole remaining Cohen son in his prized Cohen & Sons Ltd. Then I will retract all the donations he’s made to those religious politicians for years and redirect it to every gay fundraiser in the state and dedicate every cent to my two brothers.” He took a shaky breath. “And there won’t be a damn thing he can do about it.”

“You would do that?”

“Cheerfully. And whatever dividends I get, I’ll halve with you. Spencer, you have to understand, whatever I get in their will, whenever that is, I will halve everything with you.”

My smile was slow spreading but from my heart. “I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary. I don’t want their money. I don’t need it. I have everything Aunt Marvie left to me, and that’s more than I’ll ever need.”

“Ah,” he nodded knowingly. “I wondered what pissed the old man off about that. He was livid for weeks.”

I laughed at that. “That would explain the cease and desist I got.”

He blanched. “The what?”

“It was the letter Archie gave me when he came to see me a year ago.”

Lewis stared at me. “He never mentioned the letter. No wonder Dad didn’t mind him going.”

“He told you he saw me?”

“Yes. He said you wouldn’t talk to him. He said you didn’t need us.”

I shook my head. “Lewis, there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t needed you. And I was a fucking mess when he showed up. I thought he was there to try and reconcile or something. But he didn’t. He was awkward and nervous, like he didn’t know what to say. He handed me the letter and walked out. I tried to get him to talk. I tried to go after him…”

Lewis patted my arm. “Know what I think? I think maybe he went to see you to see if he could make it on his own. Like, if you were doing okay, maybe he could be too, ya know?”

It was so much to think about. “Maybe. He never said anything when he saw me in LA,” I said, trying to get my head around everything. “I wish he had. If he just said something, I could have told him it’d be alright. He could have stayed with me. I would have done anything.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Lewis said, like this was an awful truth he knew only too well. “I can’t blame me either. I don’t blame Archie for doing what he did. I wish he didn’t do it. God, I wish he’d told me he was gay. If only he’d told me, I could have told him he’d be alright too. I would have suggested he move to the States with you. If it would saved him. But the truth is, Spencer, it wouldn’t have. The only thing that could have possibly saved him was our mother and father’s love and acceptance. And that would never have happened. And that was a fact Archie knew too well. After all, he’d seen what they did to you.” He let out a long breath. “I reckon he went over there to see, to tell you he was gay, and couldn’t bring himself to admit it. But I guess we’ll never know.”

“How was he afterwards?” I asked. “When he got back?”

“Quiet. Withdrawn.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face and fought the tears that threatened to spill. “Such a waste. Unnecessary and… God, Lewis, I wish I’d known.”

He nodded, and for a long while, we stood in silence staring at the cold marble tombstone that now stood, an inadequate representation of the man who lay underneath it.

He was so much more than that.

The wind picked up, and it made me look around. The sky was changing colour, the sun in the western sky. Andrew and Libby weren’t too far away, reading old tombstones.

“I could have sworn you and Andrew had been together for years,” Lewis said, changing subjects. “The way you are with each other. It’s like you’ve known each other forever.”

I never took my eyes of Andrew. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can see that by how you look at him.”

“He loves me,” I said. Then I kinda laughed because it felt stupid to say that out loud. “And you wanna know what’s fucked up?” Lewis looked at me, waiting for me to continue, but I kept my eyes on Andrew. “I can’t tell him that I love him back. I want to, but I have… issues. I spent years in therapy after being disowned and rejected by my—our parents.” I looked at Lewis then. “It fucks with your head. If it wasn’t for my friends back home, Lola and Emilio, and now Andrew, and Aunt Marvie of course, then I’d be right here alongside Archie.”

Lewis frowned. “Do you think you will one day?” he asked quietly. “Tell him, I mean.”

I nodded. “I’ve come further in the last two months than I have in years. He’s been better for me than he can ever know. I know I will, one day, I just hope he can wait that long.”

“I’m sure he will.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “I was serious about splitting dividends and inheritances with you. Will you consider it?”

“Whatever you would have given me, set up a foundation instead, in Archie’s name. Honour him, for young, homeless LGBTIQ people. For those who have no hope left.”

Lewis smiled genuinely. “The Archer Cohen Foundation. I like the sound of that. I wouldn’t know where to start though.” His brow furrowed.

I smiled as Andrew and Libby started walking back toward us. “Andrew’s parents run a similar thing in LA. I can get you a complete business model.”

“For real?”

“I could help you from LA. With information and business plans or whatever you need.”

Lewis was grinning now, excited. “I would really like that.”

Andrew smiled as he got closer. Maybe my smile made him happy. It was then I noticed he was still holding the flowers. “Lewis?” I asked. “Do you know where Aunt Marvie was buried?”

“Oh, of course,” he said. “I should have offered. It’s this way.”

We followed Lewis and Libby, and Andrew took my hand. He was looking at me as we walked, and I could see the unasked questions in his eyes. I gave him a smile and squeezed his hand that I hoped he understood was me saying I was okay.

“It’s just up here.” Lewis nodded the direction and stopped at a simple white marble grave. There were no flowers, and I wondered if there ever had been. I made a mental note to organise monthly deliveries of her favourite roses.

I read the name engraved in stone. “Marion Cohen.”

The dates pronounced her seventy-five years of age when she passed and her favourite lines of her favourite song. The very line I had tattooed on my arm above the roses.

I lifted the sleeve of my T-shirt to show Lewis. “She always loved that line.” I couldn’t help but smile. “‘Running where even the brave wouldn’t go.’ That’s her.” My eyes welled with tears. “She was the bravest person I knew.”

Andrew put his arm around me in that silent, pillar-of-strength way he did so well.

The marble tombstone was beautiful, and I had no doubt she would have had every detail worked out long before she died. But one thing was missing. “If the word
mother
means one who cares for, loves, provides for, and encourages, then she was mine. She didn’t give me life, but in a way she did. It saddens me that people who walk past won’t know she was loved. It should say ‘Beloved mother of Spencer.’”

Andrew handed me the bouquet and I stepped forward and put the roses across her grave. “I think of you every day,” I told her. “I still drink green tea every day in your honour. I still play those records you loved. I still cook your favourite recipes. I am who I am because of who you allowed me to be, and I will be forever grateful.” I let my tears fall, not ashamed to cry. “She loved me, when no one else did.”

Andrew stood behind me, put his hand on my waist, and rested his forehead against my shoulder. Without a word, he let me know I wasn’t alone. I turned and he pulled me against him, holding me tight. He put his hand around my neck and kissed the side of my head. I breathed him in, revelling in that safety, that warmth I found in his arms.

Keeping one arm around Andrew, I looked at Lewis. He and Libby were standing back a bit, both teary eyed. “Did she have a funeral service?”

He nodded. “It was only a graveside service.”

That made me smile. “She hated churches.”

“There were a lot of people.”

“I wish I’d known.”

Lewis frowned. “You have every right to be mad for not being told. I wish I’d have told you. I should have, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at,” I told him.

“It’s such a fucked up mess, isn’t it?” Lewis whispered. “Everything.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You know what? It is. Everything up until today, that is. But we can start over from now, yeah? You and me, we’re good, right?”

Lewis scrubbed his hands over his face, wiping away the last of his tears. He barked out a laugh and nodded. “I’d like that, very much.”

I let go of Andrew and hugged my brother. It didn’t strip away years of hurt between us, but it was a bloody good start. He squeezed me hard before patting my back and pulling away. His whole face was smiling. “You guys hungry? I’m starving. How about we go grab an early dinner?”

I slipped my arm around Andrew once more, so thankful for him being here. “You wanna eat?” I asked him.

“You know me,” he answered. “I’m always hungry.”

I smiled at Lewis. “Sounds great.”

As we walked back to the car, Lewis asked, “Can I ask you something?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“Why are you staying at the Atoll?”

I grinned at him. “Well, ya see, I thought we could stay somewhere else and give income to a competitor rather than give my father one cent of my money. But then I realised the opportunity for me to sleep with a man in one of his beds was just too good an opportunity to let go.”

Lewis paused and stared at me over the roof of his car. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my God, that is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

We all climbed into the car, and Andrew was clearly confused. “One of your father’s beds?”

“The Atoll chain of hotels,” I answered simply. “My father owns them.”

Andrew’s mouth fell open. “Oh.”

Lewis snorted as he pulled out into traffic. “If he knew you were staying at the Bondi Atoll with a guy, he’d bust a vessel in his forehead.”

I laughed and lifted Andrew’s hand to my lips. “And that is the reason I did it.”

The restaurant Libby chose for dinner looked over the northern end of Bondi Beach. Lewis parked at the hotel, and we walked up, dressed just as we were. It was casual, laidback, and lovely.

We had a few drinks and a few laughs; the mood between us was one of relief and happiness. Something I got the feeling Lewis hadn’t experienced for a while. And if I ever thought for one moment that my being disowned didn’t affect my brothers, I was wrong. Archer had struggled so terribly with his own secrets that he could no longer bear the weight of them, and Lewis had suffered alone.

Yes, my world had been turned upside down, and I’d been disregarded like garbage. But I had Aunt Marvie. I had someone who took me in and showed me what unconditional love was. My brothers didn’t have that.

I was starting to think I got the better deal.

Lewis raised his glass. “To new beginnings.”

We all clinked glasses and toasted. “To new beginnings.”

Lewis sipped his drink. “You know, after Archie’s funeral, I went straight home and called your solicitor. It took a few calls because I couldn’t remember his name. I remember Dad having a shitfit over Aunt Marvie’s will, and there were a lot of solicitors involved. But I found him and asked him to forward on the news of Archie. When two days passed, I called him back and he said he’d spoken to you and given you my contact details. I thought you were done with this family, ya know? I wouldn’t have blamed you one bit, but I had to try.”

“It was a long two days,” Libby said, looking fondly at Lewis. “He jumped every time the phone rang.”

“Spencer was in the hospital,” Andrew said before I could explain.

“You what?” Lewis asked, his smile now a look of concern.

I tried to play it down. “Yeah, I um, had a bit of a run in with some unexpected crab meat.”

Andrew didn’t play it down at all. “He almost died. The doctor said the allergic reactions are getting worse, and the next one could be his last. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You were there?” Lewis asked.

“Thankfully,” I answered. “We were at his parents’ house. I was dancing rock ‘n’ roll, 50s style with his mum and then we”—I motioned between Andrew and me—“slow danced to Ray Charles, and then I collapsed on their living room floor. Andrew and his dad saved my life.”

“This was on Sunday?” Lewis asked quietly. I nodded. “Jesus. I almost lose you the day we buried Archie.” Lewis blinked several times, like he couldn’t compute what he was saying.

“And you flew here just days after?” Libby asked. She looked as stunned as Lewis.

“Of course. Lewis asked me to.” I shrugged and gave her a smile. I could feel Lewis looking at me, but I couldn’t return the eye contact. It had been such an emotional day, and quite frankly, I was sick of crying.

“Well,” Libby said. “I’m glad you’re here. Both of you.” She included Andrew.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” Andrew said. He squeezed my hand on my thigh.

I lifted our joined hands to set them on the table and threaded my fingers with his. “Me too.”

Lewis put his arm around Libby. “So, Andrew, Spencer was telling me your parents run a foundation for people in need?”

“Yes. The Acacia Foundation is my mother’s third child.”

Lewis explained our earlier conversation about possibly setting up some kind of centre for LGBTIQ kids, with all funding coming from what would have been Archie’s and my dividends of my father’s company.

We ate our dinner and drank more wine, talking non-stop about anything and everything. And as I sat there with my brother and Libby and Andrew at my side, I couldn’t help but think how surreal it was. If I could stop time and look at this moment, to soak it all in, I would highlight this moment as perfect. My brother, who I’d never expected to see again, let alone have his full acceptance and friendship, and Andrew, the man I loved… Like I said. It was perfect.

We decided to call it a night and walked back to the hotel, saying our goodbyes, and Lewis said he’d see us in the morning. When Andrew and I made it back into our room, he fell dramatically on his back on the bed. “I’m exhausted.”

I lifted his left leg and pulled off his shoe, then did the same to his right before crawling over him and softly kissing him. “How exhausted?”

His smile was slow spreading. “Not that exhausted.”

“Good.” I kissed him deeper, more thoroughly. I waited until he moaned, then pulled my mouth from his. I sat back so I could pull his shirt over his head. I tossed it onto the floor, and he flipped me onto my back like I weighed nothing, my head on the pillows, and he settled his weight between my open legs. He kissed me deeply, tilting his head for the perfect angle, his tongue invaded my mouth.

Right then.

Bossy Andrew was back.

He only stopped kissing me to undress me, and even that was too long. My swollen lips needed his like I needed air. When we were naked, he lay on top of me, our cocks aligned, and he fisted us both. But it wasn’t what I wanted… No, not what I
needed
.

I took his face in my hands and whispered, “Make love to me.”

His eyes fluttered closed, and I felt a shiver run through him. But he did as I asked, slowly and surely getting me ready for him to the point where I was begging him. "Andrew, please. I need you inside me.”

In the moonlit room, with his pupils blown with lust, his lips kiss-swollen, he was the most beautiful I’d ever seen him. He sat back on his haunches and rolled on a condom, applied more lube, and aligned his cock at my arsehole. He fell forward onto one arm and pushed inside me. His eyes drifted shut, but I gripped his face and made him look at me. He thrust into me slowly, filling me, stretching me, and I watched every emotion flicker in his eyes.

And just like that, we made love. The slowest of movements, the gentlest of touches, the softest, sweetest kisses.

He filled me so completely. The most perfect jigsaw puzzle, the missing piece of me. I loved him, and when the words were on the tip of my tongue, he kissed me.

I didn’t say them out loud, but I’m fairly certain he could taste them.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms, an emotional end to an emotional day.

* * * *

I woke up when Andrew came back in through the balcony sliding-glass door. He was showered, dressed, and looking decidedly awake and not in bed with me. “Hey,” I said, my voice croaked with sleep.

He smiled brightly. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Taking photos of the beach to send to Lola and Sarah. I’ve ordered breakfast. Go shower and get dressed. It’s almost nine.”

I rolled onto my back and rubbed my eyes. “Shit. I must have been tired. I don’t think I even stirred.”

Andrew smiled. “Yesterday was a draining day for you. I’m not surprised.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, not a stitch of clothing on, and scratched my head, ignoring the ache in my arse. “Well, there’s that and your Cockness Monster.”

Andrew burst out laughing, turning red from his forehead to his collar. He pointed to the bathroom. “Shower.”

I chuckled as I walked into the en-suite. The shower was hot and felt great against the muscles in my neck and shoulders. I didn’t even notice that Andrew must have come in at some point, but when I got out of the shower, the door was shut and my clothes were folded neatly on the bathroom cabinet. I pulled on the navy knee-length denim shorts and striped T-shirt, fixed my hair, and when I opened the door, I saw the reason why Andrew had shut the door.

Lewis sat on the bed, picking through what looked like room-service breakfast. Andrew sat at the table, sipping his coffee. They were both smiling at something I’d missed.

I looked pointedly at the tray of food and Lewis. “Hey. Enjoying my breakfast?”

He wiped his fingers on the serviette. “Yep. You need more bacon.”

I snorted out a laugh and poured myself a green tea. I plonked myself in the other chair opposite Andrew. “Tea’s good. Thank you.”

He pulled a piece of toast apart and bit into it. “Welcome.”

Lewis helped himself to a glass of water. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“I thought I’d take Andrew down to the beach. Can’t come to Bondi and not actually set foot on Bondi. What about you?”

Lewis shrugged. “I’ve taken this week off work. That was even before I knew you were coming. I can be your taxi all day if you want?”

“Sounds good.” I sipped more of my tea and ate half a piece of toast while I pulled on my shoes. Given I was only wearing a T-shirt, Lewis could see my tattooed arms, and I caught him looking at the individual pictures, but he didn’t ask about them. And I was kinda glad. Yesterday was all about the past and things we wished we could change. I wanted today to be about moving forward, and I kinda got the feeling he did too. “We good to go?”

Leaving the tray of breakfast at the door, we stepped into the elevator. Lewis pressed the button to the lobby. “So, this might be TMI, and it really is none of my business, but I certainly hope you gave one of father dearest’s hotel beds a gay old christening it won’t ever forget.”

I laughed as the elevator doors opened. “Believe me, if it was memory foam, the next people would be in for a treat.”

Andrew groaned. “Spencer!”

Lewis busted up laughing as we walked out into the warm Sydney morning. I shrugged at Andrew and grinned at my brother. “It’s like we’re fourteen and sixteen all over again.” Lewis laughed, and I felt lighter than I had in years. I put my arm around Andrew’s shoulder. “Come on down to the water. Let’s see if that Cockness Monster of yours can swim.”

Lewis scoffed. “His what?”

“Never mind,” Andrew answered, and with a hard shove, pushed me into the wall. “You’re not funny.”

I was laughing too hard to give him a witty comeback, so I grabbed his hand and crossed the street instead. Lewis shook his head at us, obviously not getting the joke, but he was still grinning. This was where we’d grown up. Technically we’d visited Bronte Beach more, but we’d spent many summer days at Bondi. It was fitting that, out of all the places in Sydney Lewis and I could be catching up, it was here. We headed to the northern end of the beach where the locals went. Most tourists went to the southern end but we went straight to Flat Rock. We took off our shoes and walked along the rocky outcrop where the waves met land.

“I can see why they called it Flat Rock,” Andrew said, looking over the huge area of, ironically enough, flat rock.

“Yeah, we don’t try too hard to name stuff here,” Lewis replied.

Andrew chuckled at that, and I just happened to catch a glimpse of him as the breeze and sea mist washed over him. Kids were jumping into the water behind us, laughing before they disappeared into the ocean, the sun was warm, the sky a vivid blue. “Not a bad view,” Andrew said, looking out over the Pacific.

“Not bad at all,” I agreed quietly, looking at nothing but him. He blushed shyly.

“Come on, up this way,” Lewis said, calling us over to the long stairs that fringed the rocky cliff. “Remember this?” he asked, leading the way.

Did I ever. I climbed the too-many, too-steep stairs too damn quick and was breathless when I got to the top. Lewis was no better but Andrew was barely breathing hard. He clapped my shoulder. “You need to start coming to the gym with me.”

I sat my arse on a railing and waved him off. Lewis sat beside me, and we watched as Andrew walked over to the outdoor gym equipment. It was very popular with the locals, an outdoor workout area overlooking Bondi Beach, though it was more a competition spot between buff gym junkies trying to look better, be bigger, and fitter than the next guy.

A couple of guys looked at Andrew, and I could see them sniggering, thinking that this geeky looking guy was gonna be good for nothing but a laugh. There they were shirtless, all tanned and muscular, and Andrew was pale, wearing a shirt with his argyle vest over top. But then Andrew jumped up and gripped the chin-up bar, and crossing his heels, he proceeded to lift himself effortlessly. Not just a few times slowly, but he must have done twenty in rapid succession, and he did them easily.

The two guys were now watching him with
oh-shit
written on their faces, though Andrew was completely oblivious. He let go of the bar and grinned at me as he wiped his hands on his shorts. Then he pulled his T-shirt sleeves up to his shoulders and stood between two parallel bars. He expertly jumped up, his biceps bulged, and he lifted his legs to ninety-degrees and held it. For about a freakin’ minute. His shoulder muscles were stretching his shirt, and his arms were straining, then with a laugh, he let go and shook himself out.  He walked back over to us, like he’d done nothing spectacular. “Well, that’s my work out for today.”

Lewis elbowed me in the ribs. “Close your mouth.”

I chuckled. “Jesus, Andrew. I really should go to the gym with you.” Then I nodded to where those two guys who had been watching him were. “You should take your shirt off and show those guys what you’ve got going on under that vest.”

Andrew looked around and quickly turned back. He went a full shade of red. “Were they watching?”