Love Wins Page 5

  “Yes, a walk.” Paul looked at Brad, who handed him a set of chopsticks. “Now, eat.”

  And he did.

  When they left the house, the neighborhood was quiet with the exception of a dog barking here and there. The streetlights were on, and there was a nice breeze dancing over Paul’s skin.

  “Tell me about Gavriel.”

  Paul was still a little suspicious of Brad as they walked together. How strange was it for someone who didn’t know him at all to suddenly show up on his doorstep? How strange was it that Brad wanted to be his friend? But he needed someone to talk to, had kept everyone at arm’s length.

  When he looked up, Brad’s smile was soft. “I’m here.”

  Brad was quiet while Paul shared stories of the first time he met Gavriel, only throwing words in every now and then. It still hurt to know that Gavriel was gone, that he wouldn’t hear his laugh anymore, see his smile.

  “He was tall, so tall, and breathtaking. And I was a dandelion in his wind. It was the shortest courtship,” Paul said.

  “Courtship?” Brad questioned.

  Paul looked up at Brad and nodded. “Yes, that’s what Gavriel called it, said he was old-fashioned. He told me the first day he met me he knew he wanted to be with me, so rather than date me, he was just getting me used to the idea of marrying him.” Paul smiled at the memory.

  “That was more than fourteen years ago. Gay marriage wasn’t legal then,” Brad said.

  It bothered Paul that Brad knew so much about him, about Gavriel. But then, there were things he didn’t know.

  “No, it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop Gavriel from making himself at home in my bedroom in an apartment owned by his family.”

  Brad whistled. “I’m guessing from Adina’s chilly reception, that didn’t go well.”

  “No, no it didn’t. When the family realized their son was serious and would not be bringing home a new daughter-in-law, but was instead in love with a young black man from the North, they called for a meeting.”

  “A meeting?” They paused as a car drove by, then continued walking.

  “Yes,” Paul said. “I still remember walking into the home, Gavriel holding my hand so tightly, months after we’d met. Gavriel’s father, Eli, and his mother, along with his two sisters, all sat around a long table, his father holding court.” Eli’s face had been set in stone, his brow hewn out of granite. “But beyond the words, the anger, and the tears from Adina and his sisters, Gavriel had remained firm. I admired Gavriel’s strength then, the way he challenged them but remained respectful, their loving son. I think it was then when I really knew how much I already loved him.”

  “You moved back to New York. That’s a vast difference from Florida.”

  Paul laughed, remembering ice and snow, Gavriel’s first snowball fight, holding each other at night before a fire. “Yes. It was. Gavriel loved it. Still, years later, after we married and only his sister Leah showed up for our wedding, Eli died, and Adina requested her son come home.”

  “Had things changed much?”

  “Yes, they had. The family needed the eldest son there to handle the properties the family own all over, and they were even willing to tolerate me in order to have him.”

  By this time, Brad and Paul had arrived at the lake. Slipping off his leather sandals, Paul sat down. It was funny. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d been there. He watched as Brad tugged off his Nike’s and sat down beside him. The gentle surface ripples centered him, and his affinity for water settled something within Paul’s soul.

  “I haven’t been here since Gavriel left. I couldn’t,” Paul said. There were too many memories here, too many treasured moments. Tears slid down his cheeks at first; then his chest burned as great, heaving sobs broke from him, tearing him apart.

  “Come here,” Brad whispered as he took Paul in his arms and held him.

  “We had plans. We were going to adopt, had been preparing to meet with a caseworker. Then some friends wanted to go to a club.” Paul shook, his head on Brad’s shoulder as he was held tighter. “I couldn’t that night. We were moving servers at work. I’d gotten home late and would have gone, but I was so tired. If I had been there—”

  “No, Paul. There was no knowing an angry and confused man would kill Gavriel and so many others.” Paul just shook harder, his insides shredding from the torrent of emotion within. He’d cried so many times, but now there was someone there to hold him and he couldn’t stop, didn’t know if he would ever stop.

  “I wanted to die. He was the only person who loved me, would never leave me.” Paul shook harder, his chest heaving.

  “Let it out. It’s okay,” Brad said.

  “Wanted to die,” Paul said as he poured out his pain on a stranger’s shoulder. Brad rocked him gently while he released the pain of losing the only love he’d ever had.

  VII.

  BRAD PULLED a long-sleeved shirt from his drawer and grabbed a pair of cargos. Once he was dressed, he sent Paul a text saying he was on his way.

  You’re late, Paul responded.

  I’m always late. This is nothing new, Brad typed back. Months since the night he’d shown up on Paul’s doorstep and he was still getting chastised for his inability to make it on time. Pulling his keys from the bowl on the table, he laughed as he exited his apartment.

  Even nearing the holidays, the November sun was still bright in the sky, though the temperatures were at a cool sixty degrees. But that was as cold as Orlando got except for the rare forty-degree nights. He’d take it.

  He drove on autopilot, making the twists and turns that would bring him to Paul’s home.

  He still couldn’t believe Paul had let him into his home that day. But he was glad he had. It had been difficult drawing him out of his shell. Walks along the beach, visits to the coffee shop, and company had helped bring light to his eyes. More and more, Brad saw the man Gavriel Bachman had fallen in love with coming to the surface.

  Paul was smart—brilliant, actually. Their conversations had been fun and enlightening. He was sure he’d grown a few brain cells just talking to him.

  He could remember the first few times he’d gone to the coffee shop, when Amadeo and Jenny had watched him suspiciously. Then, as time passed and Paul’s eyes sparkled while he argued with Brad for one thing or another, the suspicion dimmed. The way Paul laughed out loud brought Amadeo or Jenny to the table, and each added an opinion to whatever the subject concerned.

  And, Brad? Brad was filled with hope.

  Some days were better than others, though. There were days when Paul refused to leave the house, a memory, a sound, or a call making him spiral into grief. During those moments, Brad just sat beside him on the brown leather sofa, held Paul’s hand when he broke, wrapped an arm around him while he wept.

  Other days they took small trips, Brad’s only goal to get him out of the house. They’d gone to the Giraffe Ranch, and the look on Paul’s face had hurt his ribs from laughing so hard. He’d taken Paul to La Nouba, and he was entranced. Watching Paul then, hearing the surprised gasps he made, Brad knew he was falling in love.

  “COME OVER here.” The trembling tone in Paul’s voice made Brad hurry more than the command itself. Looking at the screen, he saw Hawaiian people holding a giant lei. Paul reached out his hand, and Brad immediately captured it in his, linking their fingers. “They brought it all the way over here from Hawaii to remember them all.”

  They watched as the reporter interviewed the volunteers from Maui who said they weren’t immune to the violence and wanted to show that the victims were remembered and loved.

  Loved. Brad looked down at Paul, who turned to him and smiled. Gently, petal soft, Brad bent down and kissed him.

  Paul gasped, his eyes wide when Brad lifted his head.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said while he looked at a dazed Paul. “Come on.” He tugged Paul from the chair, turned off the television, and pulled him out into the sun.

  “Where are we going?” Paul a
sked, his voice shaky as he placed fingers against his lips.

  “It’s a surprise.” Brad drove out of Paul’s driveway and headed toward Bardmoor Hill Circle. He felt Paul’s eyes on him, watching him, and he liked the anticipation that radiated off the man sitting next to him.

  As Brad maneuvered the roundabout and headed toward Westpointe Boulevard, he thought about the kiss. It hadn’t just surprised Paul; it had surprised him. Paul’s warm lips against his own, the sweet breath he took the moment Brad touched him? Brad was a goner.

  VIII.

  A KISS. Brad had kissed him. When Brad bent down, his warmth so close to Paul’s own, Paul should have drawn back, put his hand up and stopped him, but he’d wanted it. He’d wanted to feel Brad’s lips against his. It had been so long since he’d been kissed. He couldn’t stop reaching up to touch his lips.

  At first, it was a shock to be kissed by any man other than Gavriel. Then, it was over so quickly, Paul’s disappointment nearly overwhelmed him.

  “Why?” he asked when he looked at Brad, then turned back to the vast amusement park before him.

  “Because you’ve never been, and I wanted to be the one to take you.” Brad parked the car. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

  “We’re going to try to do all of this in one day,” Paul said. Was it possible? Disney World was huge.

  “Yes, we are. Now you understand why I said to wear your New Balances. Let’s do this!”

  Paul didn’t have time to second-guess. Using park hopper tickets, they were off to a ride called the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train, and while they waited, Brad was already typing away on his phone, reserving spots for other rides.

  It was the most fun he’d had in forever. He and Gavriel had never made the time for Disney World. There were just too many other things they wanted to do, but he’d always secretly harbored a desire to go. Wearing the famous mouse ears, he laughed and played and rode and ate and had the best time of his life.

  Twelve hours later and thousands of steps on his Fitbit, Paul found his hand in Brad’s as they walked back to the car.

  In the car, Brad said, “You can close your eyes if you want. We’ll be at your house before you know it.”

  Paul smiled tiredly and was out in minutes as Brad cruised through the parking lot.

  “PAUL, WAKE up.”

  Fluttering his eyes open, Paul turned his head against the seat to look at Brad, who smiled back, his white teeth catching the light from the lamppost. Paul sighed. “Thank you.” It had been a nice day, one Paul hadn’t expected. Brad Truscott had surprised him from the first day he appeared on his doorstep, and it looked like he would never stop.

  Brad’s eyes warmed. “You’re welcome. You have everything ready to go?” Paul was leaving Monday to go to New York to tie up some loose ends.

  “Yes, bags packed and ready. Guess I need to get out of here so I can get some rest. Thanks for checking on the house for me while I’m gone.”

  “No problem.” When Paul moved to open the door, Brad shot up. “Wait. Let me get that.”

  Paul watched as Brad got out on his side and moved around to open Paul’s door. He tugged Paul out gently and up against his body. Brad was a solid man, big and wide. And, against Paul’s smaller, lither frame, he seemed even larger. Placing his arms around Paul, Brad held him, his eyes locked on his as they stood there.

  “Paul,” Brad breathed, a wealth of meaning in the way he said Paul’s name. Helpless, Paul leaned closer, and Brad bent down, his hand behind Paul’s head as he took his time kissing him. His tongue delved within, and Paul opened more, feasted on Brad’s tongue as he pressed against him, his cock hard against Paul.

  Paul eased his own arms around Brad’s waist, brought him in closer. He groaned as Brad reached behind him, his large palm squeezing Paul’s asscheek.

  “Oh God, Brad,” Paul gasped. When a horn blew as a car drove by, they separated, but Brad still held on to Paul, his hands at Paul’s back.

  “Paul,” Brad said.

  Paul needed to go inside. Too much. It was all too much. Plus, it was late and tomorrow was his day to rest before he went back to New York. “I’m going in.” He pushed himself out of Brad’s arms.

  “Let me—”

  “No, Brad. I’m going inside alone.” Back into his home, where it was safe. This, this kiss, this thing with Brad? This wasn’t safe.

  “Paul, wait,” Brad called.

  Paul moved away, but he paused when he heard Brad call his name again. Still, he didn’t look back. Opening his door, he whispered, “Good night, Brad,” then went inside and shut the door behind him.

  That night Paul lay in bed alone, his thoughts not on Gavriel or how much he missed having him next to him.

  No, tonight he remembered Brad and the way he’d looked at him as they rode ride after ride, the way he’d held his hand when Paul’s heart raced at the thrill of plummeting so fast, and the way they kissed. He questioned when he’d stopped thinking of Brad as just a friend and as someone he actually needed in his life.

  Tonight he wondered what it would be like if Brad were lying next to him, and the thought terrified him.

  Was he ready for a new life, ready for the type of happiness Brad could offer? And what if that happiness were taken away?

  MONDAY, PAUL was in New York. It was time to prepare the home he and Gavriel had once shared for the market. Paul was certain he wouldn’t be returning after this, and he wanted to be there when it was time to go through the condo one last time. He didn’t need to rent it out anymore. It was time to let it go.

  Sunday had gone by with no word from Brad, and it was probably best, because Paul needed time to think.

  When the cab pulled up in front of the condo, the Realtor was already waiting. Reese Canton was slim, her orange top and cream-colored pencil skirt, along with her mile-high Valentino heels, ensured she would catch the eye of many as she leaned over to open the door. After Paul paid the cabbie, he followed her into the building and across the lobby to one of the elevators that would take them to the floor where he and Gavriel had made their home so many years ago.

  “Well, darling. Are you ready?” Reese pulled out the keys.

  When Paul just nodded, his stomach trying to contain the butterflies going to war in his belly, she opened the door.

  Paul didn’t know what to expect. They hadn’t lived here in years since Adina had needed her son home, returning only for the occasional visit here and there.

  “The crown molding and the open area here…,” Reese said as Paul walked into the kitchen where they’d once sat and shared each other’s days, ate meals Gavriel had prepared. He walked to the bedroom in the back and out onto the balcony. Breathing in air not nearly as clean and fresh as a place he’d left early that morning, he sighed.

  The condo was newly painted in muted colors, the walls bare, without pictures of trips to the park or the occasional find at a market. It was quiet and empty. There was nothing here for Paul anymore, nothing of Gavriel left behind.

  “Well?” Reese questioned when she finished sharing all the improvements made. “What do you think?”

  Paul turned back to her. “It’s ready.”

  Reese nodded her agreement.

  THE NEXT stop for Paul was his aunt’s home. Carlotta Moore had raised the little boy her sister left behind when she succumbed to cancer.

  Paul could never remember being happy, but he’d been fed. He’d been given threadbare clothes and a place to sleep. That was all Carlotta Moore was willing to give her nephew. She had her own children, and Paul was just another burden.

  But Paul went to school, and at school he found the thing that would rescue him—computers. He learned fast and did so well, he earned a scholarship that would get him away from New York, away from a woman who made him feel like an “extra” and find a place for himself miles away.

  Paul took a breath, then knocked. He hadn’t called, so he didn’t know what to expect.

  When the door opened, his co
usin Jazzmine stood on the other side.

  “Well, look who’s here. What do you want?” Jazzmine said, her tone like acid. Her gaze crawled over him, taking in his clothes, his Fossil messenger bag.

  “Is Aunt Carlotta here?” Paul asked.

  “Why? She don’t wanna see you, Mr. Thinks-His-Ass-Shits-Diamonds. Don’t nobody want you here.” When Jazzmine moved to shut the door, a rough voice called from inside.

  “Jazzmine, get your ass away from the door and let Paul in.” Paul recognized his cousin Constantine’s voice. Paul hadn’t actually seen Jazzmine’s brother Constantine in a long time. Hell, he hadn’t seen any of them in years. He sent checks back to his aunt, her constant reminders that he needed to pay her back ever-present in his mind.

  Back then, Constantine had been smaller than him. But his cousin wasn’t that little guy anymore. He was tall and muscular with dark skin, his arms cut, and his waist narrow, every bit the soldier he had become.

  “Paul!” When Constantine walked over, opened his arms, and hugged him, Paul was shocked. “Man, I heard about Gavriel. Just got back a little while ago.”

  When Constantine let him go, Paul just looked at him.

  “I never met him, but I heard about him. No, don’t look like that. I was happy for you, man. Why the fuck are you here, though? Hell, my ass wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to right now.” Constantine swung his arm around and almost threw himself off balance, his body unstable due to the prosthesis Paul realized he wore.

  “I’m selling the place where Gavriel and I stayed. Since I was here—”

  “You thought you should come to this fucked-up place and visit these negative-ass people to make yourself feel better. Shit, you should have stayed away,” Constantine said.

  Jazzmine huffed from the back. “Look, the both of your asses can leave. Mama don’t need neither one of you. We were both doing just fine.”