Date: Mon, 11 Jul 2011 18:15:35 -0500
From: Jonothan Wolf <jwolf24450@gmail.com>
Subject: The Funny Thing Is Chapter 1
**Standard disclaimer applies. This is purely fiction (if based only
slightly on actual events). Don't read if you shouldn't because you're
under 18 or live in a backwards area. This is a continuation of The List.
It isn't necessary to read The List, but it would help in understanding
characters and references. I appreciate any and all feedback, so please
email me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Enjoy the story!
Chapter 1: The Funny Thing Is...
Fine is always fine until it's not quite fine anymore.
`When Dallas Morning news first asked me to start this column what
feels like a hundred years ago, it was because I was on a journey to
balance family, work, friends, and sexuality in the ever-evolving landscape
of traditional marriage, and what that meant for a bisexual man in the 21st
Century. Through it all, ups and downs, I always felt like I knew what I
was doing, that I was in control; that I had the answers. That feeling
changed with one simple phone call.'
There was once a time when Saturdays were about fun. Relaxation,
booze and the boys. Hiking, camping, shopping, drinking. You name it and it
could be done on a Saturday. And then I had kids.
"Coop, listen up," Devon said in the checklist drill sergeant voice
she'd perfected over the past twenty years. She prattled off without
missing a single step in getting her makeup done. "Nine o'clock, I need you
to take CJ to karate. Then Lizzy needs to go to the cheerleading tryout at
the St. Mark's gymnasium. It starts at noon, but she's getting together
with the other girls to rehearse the routine at ten. If I were you, I'd
drop off CJ, come back for Lizzy, pick up Gil and Katie and take them
straight to St. Mark's. By the time you drop them off, CJ will be ready and
hungry, so ya'll can stop somewhere for lunch."
"I have my lunch meeting with Mason," I interrupted. It was important
I sit down with my editor sooner rather than later to go over the final
edits for my second novel. And other stuff.
"I know," she replied. "I pushed it back for you from one to two so
that you could get everything with the kids done and then worry about your
meeting with no interruptions."
With my entire day laid out before me, Devon gave me a kiss that
lacked sincerity or passion, buttoned her blazer and headed out for her
third dentistry conference in as many weekends.
I sat there looking at what I had to do for the day, wondering why I
was awake at 7:30 on a Saturday and longing for the days when Saturdays
weren't a kiss of death.
Instead of going back to sleep, I put on a pair of jogging shoes and
did three miles around the neighborhood. My run clocked in at just under 25
minutes and by the time I got back to my coveted home on a coveted corner
in Highland Park, Dallas, it was time to wake up the kids and rally.
"CJ, I really don't want to hear it right now," I called as my son
protested waking up for his Tae Kwon Do showcase. "You're the one that
wanted to switch from Capoeira to Tae Kwon Do. Well guess what, kiddo, Tae
Kwon Do showcases on Saturday mornings, so let's go."
The clock ticked as I did what I'd come to do every Saturday. I put
bagels in the toaster, CJ's uniform in the dryer to release the wrinkles,
and shaved my stubble over whatever sink was nearest. I knew that Lizzy's
friends would meet at our place before going to cheerleading, so I set out
a fruit platter and oatmeal they could heat up when they woke. By 8:40 when
I was literally dragging my spitting image into the Volvo I'd promised
myself I'd never buy, I was already too exhausted for a Saturday.
I accomplished everything I needed to pre-noon like a well oiled
machine. I dropped CJ off at the Dojo to do his thing. When I got home,
Elizabeth and her best friends were fretting over their routine for the
ninth grade cheer squad tryouts. By 10:00, they were at the gym and ready
to go, their social status in high school hanging on the balance and
dictated by how well formed their hurkies were. I circled back around,
caught the last bit of CJ's showcase and by noon, I was parked at
Chik-Fil-A, listening to my son debrief me on how Tae Kwon Do had gone. He
would be a red belt soon, he could feel it.
I dropped CJ off back at the house, changed into khakis and a polo
and drove to my office on campus to meet with my publicist slash manager
slash right hand man, Mason.
"Hey, Spencer," I said into my hands free headset as I jetted to
University Park and silently prayed I'd find street parking by the English
building.
"Tell me you'll be at Kyle's tonight," he said without any
introduction. "The thought of standing around and listening to hum drum
lawyers make me feel like a jack ass for three hours alone doesn't excite
me."
"I'll try to make it," I said. "No promises though."
"No, no, Cooper," my best friend and college roommate yelled into the
phone. "You promised you would go this time. I don't give a shit what Devon
has you scheduled for. Cancel it and come. We're playing beer pong and
desperately rekindling our youth after the old farts leave. You have to be
here."
"I'll be there, Spencer," I said as I pulled into the faculty parking
lot. Close enough, I thought. I trekked passed my old stomping ground,
excited to be back and on the other side of the desk this time.
"Professor Carpenter," Mason said with a firm handshake and a
lingering smile. I took a second to look around at my office. My oak
desk. My leather chair. My art on the wall. My bookshelf stocked with
everything from Alexander Dumas to JK Rowling.
"I never thought I'd hear those words," I said, putting my hands
behind my head and stretching out. "How was the drive?"
"It was good," Mason said. He hated coming in from Fort Worth, but I
hated making the trip even more. He was on my payroll, so he'd drive in
when I needed him. "This is the scoop, though. We're way behind on the
edits for The List and it makes me nervous that you're getting all Dolly
Parton-ed up for a nine to five before we're done."
"I told you I could juggle it all, didn't I?"
"You said that," he replied. "But I'm yet to see you follow
through. I gave you that stack of edits two weeks ago and there's no
headway on it."
"That's because it's perfect. That bitch at Knowles Publishing is
trying to suck all the joy out of the story."
"The story is about a boy who has sex with other boys for the first
time and loves it," he said. "It's chock full of joy. The pages are stuck
together with joy. Make the edits and do it now."
"Classes start on Monday, so it'll be at least another week before I
get to it."
"Do you not like having your name on a best sellers list? It's been
four years since All Cooped Up and your name is quickly being filed under
one-hit wonders, buddy. You're the Hoku of gay literature," he added.
"I'll get it done, Mason," I assured. "Is there anything else?"
"Not at the moment, Professor Carpenter," he said.
"That has a nice ring to it," I said with a wicked smirk.
As if on cue, Mason stood and circled my desk. He sat at the edge
with his legs spread around mine and smiled down at me. Without any
hesitation, I pulled his zipper down, fished out his already hardening cock
and stuffed it into my mouth.
The feeling of having his throbbing dick in my mouth was always a
welcome one. It didn't happen often, but when it happened, I relished
it. What Mason lacked in solid PR skills, he more than made up for as a
dutiful cock piece. On the rare occasion that I craved the touch of another
man, it was easy enough to entice him to swing down I-30 and oblige me.
I sucked him deep, tasting his precum almost immediately. I wondered
what his wife would think about the side thing we had going. I knew Devon's
stance on the whole thing.
What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. We'd been through the drill,
time and time, again and we decided that instead of me burying that side of
myself, I would take care of things discreetly, carefully and
tastefully. She knew my attraction to guys going in, and she understood it
now; it had worked for us for two solid decades and things were fine.
It didn't take an overpaid therapist to know that that was the
precise problem, however. Fine. My life was fine. My marriage was fine. My
career was fine. There was hardly a spark in any aspect of my life. I was
just simply fine. And fine is just fine until it isn't... well, fine
anymore.
15 minutes of intense sucking later, I finally got a mouth full of
the sweet and sticky I craved from Mason. He zipped up with a smile and
went immediately back to rambling about the book. I'd been down this path
before, and it was my least favorite part.
"I'll get the edits done and the editors off your back, Logs," I said
as I ushered him out of the office. "I'll call you next weekend?"
"I'm out of town with the kids next weekend," he said, reading my
mind. He slipped his wedding ring back on as he walked towards his car as
nonchalantly as he put on a pair of sunglasses, and gave me a quick wave
off goodbye.
That night, I bribed my kids to stay in and behave with pizza and an
instant download movie of their choice, choosing to ignore the fact that it
was Rated R and that Devon wouldn't have approved in a million years. They
were in the seventh and ninth grade, for crying out loud. At 13 and 15, I
was watching way worse.
"It's the ball and chain," Kyle greeted when I arrived at his high
rise bachelor pad in Victory Park, overlooking all of Dallas. He was a
stone throw away from the Reunion Tower and the wall to wall windows
provided a breathtaking view.
"Shut up and get me a drink," I smiled. I gave him a hug and scanned
the room for Spencer. I was there to keep him company and that was my only
goal. I had no intention of rubbing shoulders with Dallas' elite legal
sector.
"Is Sebastian coming?" I asked when I finally found Spencer, two
drinks in hand and giving eyes to a bartender.
"He said he was, but I'm not sure. Last I heard, he and Britney were
in some sort of fight."
"As usual," I replied. Kyle showed up with two Texas Teas.
"Thanks," I said to him. I guzzled half the drink down in a
desperate attempt to erase the day. "Okay. 30 second catch up. Let's start
with you, Counselor."
"Let's see, since I last saw you guys," Kyle began. "It's been work,
work and more work."
"Tell your brother you're over it," Spencer said with a slurp of his
drink.
"Working for Jason isn't the problem," Kyle said. "It's working with
Winston that's the problem. We're both going for partner, there's a ton of
baggage there. I mean, the only way to avoid him is to hole up in my
office."
"And bill 300 dollars an hour," I chimed in. Kyle could have been
partner with one word to his brother, the founding partner and CEO of
Wriggs and Streck; however, he insisted on doing things the proper way, and
that meant competing with his on-again/off-again lover for the one partner
slot that year. It was why he'd thrown two schmoosefest cocktail parties in
as many weeks and it was why Spencer and I were supposed to be there
mingling and talking him up to the influential powers that be.
"Well my life isn't quite as glamorous, you'll understand," Spencer
said. "Since I last saw you guys, I've been on two first dates and zero
second dates making my dating average a solid zero."
"At least you have buckets and buckets of money to keep you warm at
night," I said with a smile. Spencer was by far the best off of any of
us. After graduation, he'd used his trust fund to invest in a couple of
alternative energy companies that sky rocketed and made him millions. He
wasn't the kind of guy that sought out to change the world with it,
either. He had fun with what he had, and that was enough for him.
"You're right, that'll always be a good conciliation prize," he
smiled. They both looked at me.
"My turn. School starts on Monday," I began. "Which is nerve
racking, but kind of exciting."
"Awe, Professor Carpenter," Kyle joked.
"And my editor at Knowles is being a pain in the ass with all of the
changes she wants to The List."
"Why does she want changes? It's a true story," Spencer said,
standing straight. He was protective of our college sexploits freshman
year, and wasn't a fan of me dumbing it down for the mass media. I didn't
explain that I had made her changes up until the 17th chapter, where
working from that point on got incredibly difficult.
I shrugged. I could have gone on and on about my lackluster marriage
despite the fact that I was a celebrated relationship expert with a column
in the Dallas Morning News and a best selling novel about reinvigorating
marriage during rough patches. Instead, I stopped there and spared my
friends the details.
"Am I late?" Sebastian said behind me, joining the party just in
time to steal the spotlight from my sweating brow.
"Just in time," I said, ready to pass the mic. "We're doing a 30
second catch up session."
"Saved by the bell," Kyle whispered knowingly in my ear. Of the
three, he knew me the closest and he knew that things at home were gilded
at best. He could tell with one look at my face when I was leaving
something out.
"I take it it's my turn," Sebastian said. "I made a pitch about
carbon retention maximization at Lockheed this week that I'm sure they're
going to take."
"You lost me at pitch," Kyle yawned.
"That's `cause we all know you love to catch," Sebastian joked. "And
Brit wants to get pregnant. Again."
"Is that safe at her age?" Kyle asked quietly in my direction.
"Aw, Baby Bass is going to be a daddy," Spencer said. I was always
surprised that the nickname Sebastian had hated when he and Spencer first
started hanging out, had stuck.
"I dunno. She's been talking to my mom who always regretted only
having one kid, so she's on this kick now to give Mike a sibling," he
finished.
"Mike is two shakes away from getting his driver's license and
leaving the pooch, he could care less about a baby brother," Kyle said
snarkily.
"My thoughts exactly," Sebastian replied. "If she keeps talking
about it, I swear I'm getting my berry tickle snipped; now someone get me a
bourbon."
Sebastian was the child of two affluent north Texas families and his
twenty year marriage to Britney Marks was the natural extension of
that. Nevermind that they fought like school children and were never on the
same page. None of us had thought it would last this long, but there they
were the most committed of us all.
And there we were. Friends for 20 years with our share of ups and
down and more baggage than a 747 international cargo plane. I always felt
like D'Artagnan when I was around the three of them and they were my
musketeers.
I got drunker and stayed out later than I had planned. By the time I
made it home to my vanilla house and my vanilla life, my phone had died. I
peeked around the house and both the kids were asleep. Devon barely stirred
when I pulled the covers over. She had another seminar session in cosmetic
dentistry the following day and she was out like a light. Being drunk and
horny, I decided to see if she'd wake up for a quickie.
"Hey honey," I said climbing into bed and spooning her from behind.
"Hey, Cooper," she yawned. "How was your day?"
"Busy," I said. "How was yours?"
"Exhausting," she said with another yawn. Her yawning made me tired
and any urge I had to copulate before drained out of my body just by being
in bed with Sleepy, the sixth dwarf. I kissed her on the forehead, turned
around and counted sheep until I fell asleep.
Sunday was a special kind of awful. I spent the day getting the kids
ready for their first day of school while simultaneously trying to prepare
all of my crap for my first lecture. Technically, I wouldn't be teaching
anything on syllabus day and I had all of my notes laid out for the first
half of the term, but I still wanted to go over my intro to LGBT Literature
and my Seminar on Creative Writing. SMU was paying for a celebrity
professor and I was determined to deliver the goods.
After a full day of clothes shopping with Liz, supply shopping at
Target with CJ, laundry, ironing and calling in a favor at St. Mark's to
get CJ moved to the nicer seventh grade teacher, I was more than exhausted
and nothing Devon could have griped about from her seminar would have made
me pity her.
I made sure the kids were in bed at ten and then I sat around
watching TV in my boxers, determined to stay awake until my wife got home
so that we could have sex for the first time in three weeks. Instead, I
dozed off to the second round of CNN news updates.
I was awoken by my cell phone vibrating next to me. Thinking it had
to be Devon calling to say she was on her way home, I answered it without
looking at the front screen.
"Hey babe," I said sleepily.
"I've waited a million years to hear you say that to me," a familiar
voice said on the other line. It wasn't Devon. The voice belonged to a man
I'd almost forgotten about. A man I'd filed away a million years before
because he'd broken my heart and never looked back. A man who nagged at the
back of my brain every day, without fail.
"Chase," I said into the phone.
Chase Pallendrino.
I hung up the phone as soon as he started talking. I couldn't
listen to him. Just listening to him was cheating in and of itself. What
the fuck was he doing calling me?
After I hung up, I realized it was a mistake to hang up. What the
hell did he want? I looked at my phone to dial him back, but before I
could, it started vibrating again. I took a deep breath and answered the
phone.
"Hey, sorry. I got disconnected," I said trying to sound as breezy as
possible.
"By your service or what?" he asked.
"What... do I owe this call to?" I asked shortly.
"It's nice to hear your voice, Cooper," Chase said. I could tell he
was smiling on the other side of the line. He knew he was making me
squirm. I took in a deep breath. "Cooper, I just wanted to call and let you
know I'm back in Texas. More specifically, I'm back in Dallas."
"Wow," I said, my breeziness floating out the window and melting in
the warm Texas September air. "Isn't that nice?"
"I want to see you," he said point blank. He sounded like he was
ordering a hamburger or something off a value menu. I want to see you. With
cheese. No pickles.
"How long has it been?" I asked with a little bit more bite than I
intended.
"Too long, I know that," he replied. He sounded sexy and charming,
just like he had twenty years ago when he left for the summer games in
London and became a world class Olympic swimmer. "What are you doing for
lunch tomorrow?"
I couldn't think of anything quick enough. I had the entire afternoon
block free and I planned on tackling those edits for Logan.
"I um... I'm busy," I said with little to no conviction. I sounded
about as honest as Michael Jackson declaring his innocence.
"I'll pick you up at one. Text me the address of your office and I'll
be waiting," he said, his voice laced with that same smile I knew he had
plastered on his face. He hung up before I had the chance to object
further.
"Who was that?" I heard from the doorway. I looked up just as Devon
flipped the light switch on and pulled a stiletto off.
"No one," I said quickly. "Well someone, but no one. It was
Chase. Pallendrino."
The name hung in the air for a second. She knew the implications of
his name in my life. She had been there for Chase-gate 1.0 and Chase-gate
2.0. In fact, it was when she picked up the pieces after he returned from
London—or better yet, didn't return— that Devon and I really got
serious. Before then, she was my warm body, the interim cuddle
buddy. Chase-lite.
"What did he want?"
I looked at her square in the eyes. No lies, I thought. What did I
have to lie about?
"He wants to do lunch tomorrow."
"He's back?" she said, stepping out of her pencil skirt and standing
before me in a pair of panties and a bra. "Are you going?"
The tone in her voice had an unmistakable connotation. We'd been
through this before, with both of us on different occasions, but not with
anyone I actually cared about at one point. This was uncharted
territory. Feelings entering the fray changed things, and we both knew it.
"Honestly, Dev, I hadn't decided," I said. She didn't say anything
else that night, but simply slipped out of her clothes and into bed. For
the 22nd day in a row, we slept turned away from each other and I started
to wonder why we bothered living a life that was plain old fashioned
Vanilla.
I woke up extremely early the next morning, went out for a run and
was dressed and parked in my faculty spot by 8:15. My first class wasn't
until 10:00, but I was anxious. I felt like a first grader on the first
day.
I called Spencer at 9:00, knowing that of the three, he was the only
one I could consult with on this.
"What the fuck did he want?" Spencer asked. Little had changed
between us in twenty years. I still told him everything as it
happened. Things I couldn't tell Kyle because of our history, and Sebastian
because of his relationship with Devon's best friend, automatically fell
onto Spencer.
"He wants to go to lunch."
"What are you going to do?"
"I... guess I'll go," I said with as much assurance as OJ Simpson
entering a not guilty plea. The truth was I had already sent Chase the
message with my office address. It was done.
"Is that the best idea?"
"No," I answered honestly. "But how can I not? I mean, it's been long
enough. Those feelings are carefully filed away. Plus, I already told Devon
I would meet him, so there's nothing to lose."
"And what did she say?"
"She didn't say anything."
"I know nothing about married life," Spencer replied. "But I feel
like that's a passive aggressive way of saying don't go. Color me naïve,
but that's what I think."
"I have to go," I said.
"But you don't, Cooper. You really don't."
I did. There was no use pretending like I wouldn't or even
shouldn't. Thinking like that would only make me feel guilty afterwards. I
hated feeling guilty and I hadn't done anything to warrant that feeling.
My first class was LGBT Literature, which was surprisingly full
considering it was an elective on alternative lifestyles on one of the last
campuses in the country to embrace them. My history at SMU told me that the
campus was crawling with closet cases, but I didn't think this many would
show up for my class. A few probably thought as a new teacher, I'd be easy
and they could fly right through the bird course. They learned by the end
of syllabus day that that wasn't going to be the case.
The lecture distracted me from my impending meeting at 1:00. I
repeated my spiel to my 11:00 creative writing seminar, a much smaller and
more intimate round table course with only twelve students.
After that, I was on my own to agonize for an hour. What did he look
like now? What would he sound like in person? Would he even recognize me?
Would our natural chemistry still be there? A million questions. No
answers.
At 1:00, I finally made the trek down to the drop off in front of the
English building. The second I stepped outside, I saw him.
He looked the exact same: tan, tall and gorgeous. His face was a
little harder than I remembered. His hair was lighter than usual and wavy,
fingered softly back. He wore sunglasses so I couldn't see his light blue
eyes that jumped out beautiful against his sun darkened skin. His frame was
in incredible shape, but I wouldn't have expected anything less from a guy
who was once dubbed The Human Submarine.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, Monsieur," he said. I wanted to
say something quippy and rude, but I was at a loss. Instead I smiled, my
excitement to see him far outweighing any feelings of resentment about the
split.
"Where to?" he asked once his Audi was heading slowly towards the
highway.
"Tavern on Victory," I said. It was my favorite spot to eat downtown,
not that I thought I'd be able to keep anything down, I was so
nervous. They did, however, have strong cocktails. Even at lunch.
"So," he said looking at me with a smile. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Devon's good, the kids are good."
"I read about the kids. And the book. Congrats on that, by the way."
I didn't respond, but continued my glare. "So, I know you like to cut to
the Chase, so to speak. What am I doing here?"
"That would be the perfect place to start," I said with just a hint
of attitude.
"I'm back, Coop. For good," he said. "My dad wasn't doing well for a
while, and so I was in San Francisco with him. When he died, I wanted to
get out. I wanted to go to a place I loved."
His lips lingered on the L word. He'd been back in the states long
enough to take care of his dad and then bury him and he hadn't called? My
excitement was melting and resentment was settling in again.
"So you're moving here?"
"That's the plan," he said with a tentative smile and a sharp
breath. We crossed Highway 75 and rolled slowly onto Victory Lane.
"I hope that works out well for you," I said, breaking my gaze and
turning forward. Suddenly, I realized I shouldn't have come to this
lunch. What did I think would happen? A magic reunion of rainbows and
sunshine? So much had changed in both of our lives; I didn't even know if
we could recognize ourselves in each other anymore. I bit my bottom lip,
wondering what to do next.
"Second thing on my agenda," he said casually. "Is my apology to
you."
"Seems like `I'm sorry' is a dime short and two decades late," I
said.
"You're right," he said, reasonably. It annoyed me how polite he
was. "But it doesn't change the fact that I am. And that I have been for
the better part of twenty years."
"Bullshit," I finally lost it as he pulled into the parking garage
across from the Tavern. "Sorry people pick up the phone and call once in a
while. Just to check in, maybe."
"I had to make a clean break, Coop," he said.
"To protect you or to protect me, Chase?" I replied.
"What do you want me to say? If I'd called you when I was in London,
I would have come back. If I had called you when I was back from London, I
would left everything in LA and come to find you. If I had called you at
any point before the games in Rio, I wouldn't have gone, Cooper. My life
and my career depended on me not calling you, not thinking about you, and
not desperately wanting to come back to you."
"And now with all the convenience in the world," I said, the fight
I'd seen coming for twenty years playing itself in my mind over and over
like a broken compact disk. He parked the car and I suddenly felt
trapped. "You can finally call me now. Let me drop everything; Chase
Pallendrino is back."
"It isn't like that."
"Then what the hell is it like?" I glared at him, realizing that I
had a tear in my eye. I had felt like meeting him for lunch was the right
thing, but I was realizing quicker than ever that it wasn't.
Without answering, Chase leaned over and kissed me. It was like no
other kiss I'd experienced in a long time. It was filled with sadness and
passion. My tear fell and laced the kiss with a saltiness that said so much
for so little. Instinctively, I pulled his face into mine and kissed him
back. I sucked his tongue deep into my throat, my vigor a mixture of raw
passion and intense anger.
Before I knew what was happening, my seat was pulled back and Chase
was lying on top of me, grinding his body into me in a way that a 6'1 guy
with an incredible build shouldn't have been able to do in a compact car.
"Let's skip lunch," he said with a wicked smile. I could feel his
gear shaft poking into my thigh and I was instantly taken back twenty years
to the happiest place in my life.
I looked up at him. Fifty percent of me wanted to say yes. The rest
of me couldn't see past the guy that had hurt me so badly, I had wondered
how I'd love again after him.
"I can't," I said, swallowing hard. I pushed him off of me, back into
the driver's seat.
"You're right. I got carried away," he said, wiping my saliva off of
his lip.
"God, you sure know how to complicate things," I said with a sheepish
smile and a big sigh. We both got out of the car and had a hands-off,
cordial lunch. Chase regaled me with the details of his two Olympic
journeys. He told me stories I'd read a million times in Sports Illustrated
and Time Magazine. He was the six time gold medalist... the `Boy that could
be Chased, but that couldn't be caught.' I tried not to let my resentment
creep up and my exuberance to see him show.
I took a cab back to my office in time for my 3:00 class.
One seminar and a million emotions later, I texted Devon that I
wanted to take her out for dinner that night. When she asked why, I told
her I knew I would be busy for a few weeks while I got into my new schedule
and I wanted some us time before it got crazy. She bought it.
After that, I called Sebastian and he said he'd pick my kids up for
dinner after work. I explained that CJ had tennis league and that the final
round of tryouts ended at six for Liz. He said he was on board without
asking why I needed the favor.
I stayed at work until 6:00, doing nothing but twiddling my thumbs
and dreading the next few hours. It took an actual physical effort to keep
Chase from permeating my thoughts and it was harder than ever.
With no time to spare—or chicken out—I drove to Silver Fox
Steakhouse in Richardson and sat down at my reserved place. I ordered a
bottle of wine while I waited on Dev to show up.
By the time she did, I was a glass and a half in. One look at my face
and she knew something was wrong. She poured herself a glass while she
greeted me.
"This is different," she said, taking a deep breath. "What's the
occasion? Good or bad?"
"Dev, when was the last time we were happy?" I asked, point blank. I
decided to take the band-aid ripping approach to the conversation.
"Cooper, what are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that we haven't had sex in twenty-three days. Before that
it was twenty-nine days," I said, forcing myself to maintain eye contact. I
wanted to crawl under the table and die.
"What are you counting days for? Are we on the rhythm method?" Her
eyes narrowed.
"I'm just curious. If you had to pick a number from one to ten on how
happy you are with our marriage, what number would it be?"
"It would be a seven," she said after a few seconds hesitation. She
took a sip of the wine. "What are we doing here?"
"Is seven good enough for you?"
"Cooper, you're scaring me."
"It isn't good enough for me, Devon," I said softly. I watched her
eyes well up right before my eyes and it broke my heart. "And the reason
it's not good enough is because we were at a ten once, and you know
it. When we first started going out, we were at a ten all the time."
"We were twenty years old and horny, Cooper. We have kids now and
responsibilities. There isn't time to be at a ten anymore." Her voice was
an inch away from faltering. I thought about pulling the plug and stopping
the conversation, but I had to be the bad guy. For me to leave my family
and not want to kill myself over it, I needed to be the bad guy and absorb
all the blame. To me, that was my punishment for throwing in the towel.
"I kissed Chase today, Dev," I said. This time my voice faltered and
the tear that had been lingering finally fell. "And it was a ten."
Devon swallowed hard, wiped her face and looked at me with a hardened
gaze. She entered ice queen mode. Her stoniness had attracted me once. It
made her seem powerful and kick ass. Being the recipient, I now knew why it
worked so well. She just seemed stoic and scary.
"What are you telling me right now?" she asked in a surprisingly sure
voice. "Just say it. Say what you dragged me all the way to Richardson to
say."
"I'm saying that if we ask ourselves the tough questions here, Devon,
the answers are pretty plain. We had a good run for a long time, longer
than most people get. But we've gotten comfortable and tired and there are
tens out there for us."
"No, there's a ten out there for you," she said. That was fair
enough. I wanted to crawl under the table again. I prayed that she wouldn't
make a scene, but I wouldn't have put it past or. I also wouldn't have
blamed her for it.
"I just... I want out," I said finally. It wasn't a simple thing to
say. It wasn't like kissing Chase had turned on a switch and I was back to
my old ways. It would have been easy for me to sneak around and have my
cake and eat it too. I'd been that kind of guy before. But since then, I'd
been the kind of guy who committed and stuck to his commitments. Kissing
Chase didn't flip a switch, but it did turn a dial.
"How long have you been waiting for this day, Cooper?" she asked me
with a bite to her voice that sent a chill down my spine. "How long have I
been a place holder for the one that got away from you?"
"That's not fair," I said. "I loved you every single day we were
together. Don't act like I didn't, please."
"Don't treat me like I wasn't always second chair in the band, then,
Cooper. Show me some respect. I mean, come on, Carpenter. Chase is back for
a calendar day and you're bringing me here to what? Tell me you want a
divorce? Walk me through this, please."
There was no way around it. I had to answer her questions. I had to
be the bad guy. I had to take my lashings and bear them.
"For a while when we started dating, I did think that maybe things
would work after London," I said. "And when they didn't, I put every single
egg into your basket."
"What about when you were writing the book?" she asked, pouring
another glass of wine.
"When I wrote All Cooped Up, our problems had nothing to do with
Chase or guys," I said defensively. "Our problems had to do with us and how
both of us were too selfish in our careers to foster a healthy relationship
and a healthy home for our kids."
"Don't get author on me, please," she said, shaking her head. "I get
that. But you spent the last two years writing The List. Where was I to you
then?"
"Why do you need me to answer that?" I said, my eyes narrowing. I
felt like I was stuck in the battle scene from Closer and I couldn't
escape.
"Just answer it."
"I... I don't know. It was downhill from there," I said with a shrug,
unable to pinpoint the exact moment our rut began. All I knew is that
things were long past due before Chase showed his perfect face, but he was
the perfect scapegoat for pulling the plug. Who knows? Maybe if I had
waited a couple of months or a year even, Devon would have pulled it for
us.
We talked for another forty five minutes and another bottle of
wine. The whole time, I thought that I was doing the right thing. Letting
her blame me for giving up. Letting her think that my all consuming love
for Chase was the cause. We had fought a good fight, Devon and I, but that
fight had to end. The flint had been there the entire time. Chase came
along and provided the spark.
"So what do we do now?" she asked as we stood. I helped her into her
blazer.
"I dunno," I said quietly. "I guess I tell the kids and we both
consult our attorneys."
I dreaded the thought of breaking my children's hearts. I knew
divorce rates were high, and most kids suffered through them, but
still. I'd wanted for them to grow up like I did, with two loving parents
who made sure they wanted for nothing. This would kill them and they would
hate me forever.
She looked at me with a tiredness I hadn't seen in her eyes
before. Devon had been full throttle for as long as we'd been together,
balancing mother/wife/DDS and this one bomb was what had shaken her. For
the first time in a long time, I saw a woman who wasn't infallible and it
reminded me of what we'd had at the beginning.
"I don't want this to be a huge dramatic thing," I said as we walked
out of the restaurant. "You get whatever you want. No fights over
anything."
"It's not going to be about stuff, Cooper," she said. Her voice was
surprisingly strong for woman who'd just been told her marriage is
over. I'd seen Devon in these situations and she always held up
well. Resilient is how I'd describe her. She handed the valet her
ticket. "Although I might clean you out." She smiled.
"I'm just a lowly professor," I joked. "I have little to my name."
"A professor with a best seller and another on the way," she
said. "And a lake house, two Volvos."
"Wait till my lawyer gets his hands on your clinic," I said,
laughing.
"I will eat Kyle for breakfast, you know that," she said with a wide
grin. I was confident that everything would work out. A divorce would be
tough, but mine and Devon's relationship had been built on friendship
first. I was sure it could return to that. Eventually.
I woke up the next morning after a fitful night on the couch. If it
hadn't been for a bottle of wine coursing through my veins, I wouldn't have
slept at all.
I had stacked my classes in such a way that I only taught on Mondays
and Wednesdays to facilitate any travelling that I needed to do for the
book. If I had to miss a Monday for some reason, I could make up for it on
the Friday that my three credit course would normally be
scheduled. Regardless, my Tuesdays and Thursdays were always left wide
open.
I had a slow breakfast after driving the kids to school, and enjoyed
my empty house for a change. I went out for a midmorning swim in the
backyard. At 11:00, I showered and dressed and drove into downtown,
straight to the marble tiled law offices of Wriggs and Streck.
"Hey," Kyle said looking somewhat surprised to see me. "What's the
matter?"
It was rare that I saw him during the week with the absurd amount of
hours he worked. If he hadn't earned his way to the top now, it would be
impossible to do so. I almost felt bad asking for the favor I needed.
"Nothing's wrong," I said having a seat in his plush leather
chair. I couldn't understand why he needed the title of partner. He already
had the salary, the office, and the expense account of a partner. I guess
it meant something for him to earn his rightful place atop the family
dynasty.
"Okay," he said sitting down across from me. A moose's head hung
about six feet above Kyle's. "You're in my office on a Tuesday
morning. Something's wrong. Is it hookers? Oh, God, Cooper, I warned you
about hookers."
"We have attorney client privilege, right?" I asked casually. I
leaned back and propped my feet on his center table.
"Yes we do, and now you're actually scaring me."
"I need you to represent me," I said with a dramatic pause. "For my
divorce."
Kyle's eyes widened and I knew that he knew the root cause.
"This has nothing to do with Chase coming back to town," I said
quickly.
"Bullshit," Kyle said tartly.
"Did Spencer tell you?"
"He called last night. Are you fucking kidding me? You're leaving
Devon over a guy that left you two decades ago and has been back in town
for 24 hours?"
"Kyle, I swear to you it isn't like that. Devon and I have always
had our issues," I said.
"Chase isn't just an issue. He's the whole fucking newsstand." I
hadn't expected Kyle to be pleased with the news, but I certainly didn't
expect him to freak out on me like he was. "This is typical Cooper. I mean,
seriously? The guy's in town for a twenty-four hours. One day and you're
already running back to him like a sick puppy."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," I raised my voice.
"Then break it down for me, Cooper. How is this any different than
what you did to me, jumping on the next shiny new toy as soon you got
bored? And then to Riley, and then to Chase. I mean, his Speedo hadn't even
dried off before you were in bed with Devon."
"Completely different circumstances," I said, my face getting
hot. He irked me by pushing all of the wrong buttons. Did he think I didn't
know what my pattern was? Did he think I just didn't care? I knew that what
I was doing wasn't the boy's scout way, but it was my way. And it was the
only way I knew.
"You're unbelievable," Kyle said shaking his head.
"Are you going to represent me or not?" I asked, suddenly very
upset.
"I'm your lawyer, aren't I?" his voice was laced with unbridled
attitude. Anyone else would have cowered when Kyle got this way, but the
little fucker didn't scare me. I'd seen him worse.
"Yeah." I stood to leave. "And sometimes I would appreciate it if
you would just be a friend." I crossed the vast office for the door,
stopping just short.
"And I know why you're so upset about this and it isn't because you
feel for Devon so much, Kyle, so drop the fucking act. It was never going
to be you," I said, hitting below the belt. I shrugged my shoulders. "At
the end of it all, you and I both know that I was never going to choose
you."
The glare Kyle gave me could have shattered the glass behind me. He
swallowed his rage as I walked out and closed the door.
I had been in one other shooting match with Kyle before. There was
only one other time when our words had brought each other to the brink of
blackout rage, and the last time was my freshman year of college after a
fight with Kyle about his then boyfriend Rusty. After that fight, I went to
my boyfriend's house for a much needed tension relieving fuck. This day was
no different.
I pulled into the W Hotel, handed my keys to the valet and stalked
to the front desk.
"Hello, sir, may I help you?"
"I need to see Mr. Pallendrino," I said.
"Okay," the clerk said. "Is he expecting you?"
"He is," I replied, barely able to keep my eyes from burning with
anger. The concierge punched Chase's room number, the phone rang once and
Chase answered it.
"Mr. Pallendrino, there is a gentleman caller here to see you." I
mouthed my name. "Mr. Carpenter. I will send him up."
A second later, I was riding the elevator to the presidential suite
on the 39th floor of the W Hotel. I barely had a chance to knock before
Chase opened the door and I fell into his face with my lips.
My kiss was so magnetically aggressive, it pushed him back into the
suite. Without any hesitation or complication, we fell back onto his king
sized bed and Chase climbed on top of me, our lips not once skipping a
beat. I hadn't kissed like that in ages and it felt amazing. I felt his
tongue survey every inch of my mouth, dancing around like we were school
children making out for the first time.
Before I could even explain my actions, both of us were stripping
out of our clothes and panting.
"Oh my god, I have been dying for this for ages," Chase said,
peeling off his slacks. His cock was already rock hard and it sprang up out
of his briefs when he dropped them. I dove for his cock like a dick starved
homeless person.
I lay on my stomach on the bed, perfect height to slip Chase's dick
all the way to the back of my throat. I watched his toes curl as I
swallowed hard, creating a vibration that coursed through his entire
body. The guy was leaking precum as if he hadn't shot his load in days. It
tasted just as good as I remembered.
A minute later, probably because he was afraid he'd shoot too soon,
Chase pushed my head back and pulled me up to meet his kiss.
"What changed your mind?" he asked as he pushed me back and fell
perfectly into the space between my legs. It was like we'd been doing it
for years, our movements were so in sync.
"I'm giving up a lot of shit because of you, Mr. Pallendrino," I
whispered with a wicked smile. "I just want to make sure my investment is
worth it."
He smiled down at me, dove in with his lips and second later, Chase
was slipping seamlessly into my tight hole.
I hadn't been fucked in longer than I could remember and my first
reaction to Chase's cock was to push him off. Instead, I relaxed, took a
deep breath and let the pain subside slowly. It was like riding a bike.
Before long, not only was the pain completely gone, but in its stead
was a pleasure I'd almost forgotten. It was one of my rules when I was with
Devon. No matter how many times I fucked around with Logan, I never kissed
him and I never fucked him. We were purely oral buddies, giving the
occasional blow job. This was completely different.
I knew immediately that all of the love I'd watched go away was
still there. And on my part, everything I felt about Chase that I had
buried away was rushing back like a time capsule being opened. It felt
amazing as he slid in and out of me so delicately at first. My fingers dug
into his chest and my legs curled around his pelvis, pulling him in even
deeper.
Chase grunted into my mouth as he picked up his pace. The sounds
were animalistic and short, but passionate.
"I fucking love you, Cooper," he panted, his speed gearing up. I
could see the signs forming. His eyes rolled back, his head bucked backward
and a second later, I felt a warm stickiness coat my insides. The sensation
was enough for me. As if we'd choreographed it for TV, I came a split
second after Chase, erupting all over both of us.
I just lay there post-orgasm, unable to move for several minutes.
Every nerve ending on my body felt like it was on fire. When I rolled over
to put my hand on Chase's chest and find his nook area between his arm and
his torso, his skin was hot to the touch. It was like every pleasure
particle in our body had been singed.
I took a deep breath and snuggled into him, upset that it was early
afternoon and we couldn't fall asleep together.
"So what does this mean?" he asked softly.
"I wish I knew, guy," I replied. "I really wish I knew."
**Feedback, notes and comments are always greatly appreciated. Send me your
reaction to Jwolf24450@gmail.com. Thanks for reading the story! I hope you
enjoy. Bottom of Form