Date: Fri, 24 Aug 2001 13:14:11 EDT
From: MystryAuthr@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 24 of All Lost Things

And yet another chapter is finished for your reading pleasure. :o) Let me
know what you think of the new developments. And be sure to check out the
BH website for the latest on the publication of my first novel, Bleeding
Hearts.

http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts

Email: Aterovis@aol.com


Chapter 24

	Micah stood there for a second staring into my face. I tried to
read his thoughts but his eyes revealed nothing. He stepped away and then
slowly backed up until his legs hit the couch, where he sat down with a
thud.

	"What's wrong?" I asked, panic rising in my throat like the taste
of bile. I asked but I was pretty sure I already knew. I'd blown it, pushed
too hard, too fast, and now he thought I was some sort of slut.

	"It's just..." he started but I cut him off.

	"Don't. You don't have to explain it. That was stupid. I don't know
what I was thinking. I'm sorry. Maybe I'd better just leave."

	"Killian, don't be sorry. It wasn't stupid. You don't know how much
I want you to stay the night."

	"Then...what's the problem?"

	"I don't know. I mean I do know; it's just..."

	"What?"

	"Killian, you're different, special. You seem so...as if everything
was your first time."

	I sighed and sat down on a chair across the room. "It is."

	"What do you mean? I thought you had a boyfriend for a long time."

	"I did. We dated for over a year and a half, but I've known him all
my life. He was my best friend. We never really went on a "date" date. We
never went through that whole getting to know each other process like we've
been doing. It's not the same at all. This is so...incredible. I mean we
never even..." I looked down at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes.

	"Never even what?"

	"We never even made love."

	"You...you didn't...you mean...you're..."

	"I'm a virgin."

	"And you wanted me..."

	I forced myself to look him in the eyes. "Yes."

	"Oh wow. Oh wow. That's a big deal, Killian."

	"I know."

	"I mean, it should be really special and all."

	"Tonight has been special."

	"I didn't mean-tonight was special, very special. But, excuse me
for being crude, but I don't just want to be the guy who took your cherry."

	"What do you mean?"

	"I want to be more than that. I like you, Killian; I mean I really
like you, a lot. I've liked you since the first time we met and I've liked
you more and more ever since. And after tonight...I could fall in love with
you very easily."

	"I like you too," I told him softly. "I think maybe I could fall in
love with you too."

	"Ok, then, you see what I mean?"

	"No."

	It was his turn to sigh. "I would be so honored to be your first,
but when it happens, if it happens, I want it to be so incredibly
special. I don't want it to be on a fist date while you're half buzzing."

	"I'm not-"

	"What if you wake up tomorrow and you regret it? It could ruin any
chance for anything between us. As much as I want you, and trust me, I do
want you; I'm not willing to risk that."

	I stared at him for a minute as what he was saying sunk it. "You do
want me?"

	He laughed. "Who wouldn't want you? You're absolutely beautiful,
you're brilliant, you're fun, sexy, sweet, funny...shall I go on?"

	"No," I said weakly. He stood up and crossed the room, kneeling in
front of me. He cupped my face in both hands and looked me straight in the
eyes. This time it was easy to read what was in them.

	"Killian, you're the most amazing guy I've ever met. I've never met
anyone like you. I...I want to date you, I want to get to know you better,
I want to spend time with you. And then, maybe then, I'll sleep with you,
but only if it feels right."

	"But I thought..."

	"You thought all gay guys were giant horndogs that would hump
anything that offered?" He smiled.

	"I didn't say that," I giggled.

	"But that's what you were thinking. Don't buy into the stereotypes,
Killian. I thought you were smarter than that. Not all gay guys are like
that, you're not like that; I can tell. Oh, there are more than a few like
that, and maybe I used to be like that, but I've learned the hard way that
you can't build anything real on just sex."

	"Adam always says you need a solid foundation to start with. What
did you mean you learned the hard way?"

	"I'll tell you about it sometime."

	"What's wrong with right now?"

	He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then smiled. "Ok, but
let's move to the couch. It's more comfortable than sitting on my knees on
the floor."

	I laughed and we transferred to the couch, me on one end and Micah
on the other, our feet touching in the middle.

	"I've never told anyone outside my family and my counselor. If I'm
going to tell you now, then I need to be able to go through the whole thing
without being interrupted, ok?" I nodded and he took a deep breath and
began to talk. "I guess I started realizing I was different when I was
about 13. All the other guys were going crazy about girls and all I ever
thought about was my best friend Paul. I knew I was gay but I was scared to
death to tell anybody. One day I was trying to get Paul to take his clothes
off in our back yard. I was always trying to get him naked somehow; I don't
even remember what excuse I was using that time. I didn't think we were
where we could be seen or heard, but anyway Paul got mad at me and said he
was sick of me trying to get his clothes off and he left in a huff. I can't
really blame him.

	"So I'm sitting there by myself trying not to cry when all of a
sudden my neighbor starts talking to me. He'd heard the whole thing. I
almost panicked. I thought I was dead for sure, that he'd tell my parents
and I'd be kicked out or disowned or something. I can't even remember what
he was saying I was so scared. But then he promised not to tell anyone if I
came over to his house. I felt like I didn't have a choice. That was the
beginning of...well, two years of torture. I was 13 and I lost my virginity
to a 39 year old guy. He told me he loved me but he didn't, not really. He
just wanted to own me. He tried to tell me who I could see and where I
could go. I was scared to disobey him. He'd freak out if he saw me with
someone I wasn't supposed to see. He never hit me but I always felt like I
was only an inch away from that. I was so scared, so trapped.

	"Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I had some kind of
breakdown. I was afraid to leave the house; I'd have panic attacks, start
screaming and crying. My parents didn't know what the hell was going
on. They took me to a shrink and it all came out. My parents were furious,
I've never seen them so angry-but not with me. They filed all sorts of
charges on this guy. I don't know what happened after that really. They
kept me out of it as much as possible. All I know, and all I cared about is
that I never saw him again. For a while they thought that maybe I wasn't
really gay, that the guy had just perverted me or something. Eventually,
with the help of my counselor, they realized that I was gay before him and
I was still gay after him. They accepted it really well at that point and
they've been supportive ever since."

	"Oh my God," was all I could manage when he stopped for a breath.

	"Well, I'm not really finished. Obviously I was pretty messed up
after that. I felt like no one would ever love me and all I knew about was
sex and how to use it. So I did. I slept with half the guys in my school,
gay, bi and straight. I guess all I really wanted was for one of them to
love me. I thought that somehow I could make them love me with my
sex. Eventually I learned, through a lot of broken hearts and even more
counseling, that it doesn't work that way. It hasn't been easy to
completely change my whole way of thinking, but I guess now you can see why
I didn't want to sleep with you tonight. It would be too much like slipping
back into my old habits and I don't want that. I don't want to ruin this
with you. I don't know where this is going, but you're the most incredible
guy I've ever met. I want us to have a chance and I want your first time to
be the special, not like mine was."

	"Micah, I'm so..."

	"Killian, I don't need your sympathy or pity or whatever. I've done
a lot of healing over the years. I'm not the same kid I was then. There'll
always be some scars but I'm good now. I'm happy. I didn't tell you all
this to make you feel sorry for me. I wanted you to know the truth. It felt
right to tell you."

	I reached out and took his hand. He looked down at his hand in mine
and suddenly his lip started to tremble. I pulled his hand to my lips and
gently kissed it.

	"Thank you," I whispered.

	He took a ragged breath and seemed to gain control again. He gave
me a shaky smile and all of a sudden I couldn't stand it anymore, I quickly
leaned in and pressed my mouth against his. We kissed for several minutes
before he broke away.

	"I need to get you home," he said huskily.

	I nodded although I wanted to stay more than anything.

	His eyes searched mine. "Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice
barely audible.

	I leaned in until my lips were brushing against his ear. "Try and
stop me," I whispered. I flicked my tongue lightly over his ear and he
shuddered. He gently pushed me away.

	"Don't you ever stop?" he asked playfully.

	"Do you really want me to?" I giggled.

	"Do I really have to answer that?" And then without warning he
leaped up, tossing me over his shoulder as he did. He's stronger than he
looks, I thought in surprise. He grabbed up his car keys, swung open the
door and carried me out still slung over his shoulder like a sack of
potatoes.

	"You can put me down now," I said.

	"I don't trust you."

	"What will your neighbors think?"

	"Who cares?"

	"Micah!"

	He laughed and carefully set me back on my feet. "Behave?"

	"Yes, I'll behave. Jeez."

	We walked to his car in silence.

	"Thank you for telling me all that," I said once we were on the way
back to my house. "I know it wasn't easy for you. It means a lot."

	"You've told me a lot that couldn't have been easy. And I trust you
so it was easier than I thought it would be. It's like I knew you wouldn't
judge me."

	I looked at him in confusion. "Why would I judge you? What happened
with your neighbor wasn't you fault. And what happened after that, well,
it's the past. It helped make you who you are today and since I happen to
really like who you are today I have no complaints. Besides, who am I to
judge anybody?"

	He smiled at me and took my hand. "You get more and more awesome
all the time, you know that."

	"I do not!"

	"You do, and don't argue with me."

	I sighed and snuggled closer to him, resting my head against his
shoulder. He turned on the radio and tuned it to a light rock station. I
fell asleep listening to Bette Midler singing "The Rose".

	He gently shook me awake when we were in front of my house
again. "You're home, beautiful boy."

	I blinked awake and sat up. "I fell asleep," I astutely observed.

	"Yeah, I noticed," he said with a crooked smile.

	I smiled back as I rubbed my eyes. "Walk me to the door?"

	"Of course. Stay put."

	He jumped out his door and ran around to my side, opening the door
with a flourish. I grinned and climbed out with the help of his proffered
hand.

	We ambled up to the front porch, still holding hands. I turned into
his body and slid my arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around me
tightly.

	"Kiss me goodnight?" I asked, tipping my head back and closing my
eyes. He obliged with a sweet, tender kiss that just about made me melt. He
broke off the kiss and stepped away, his hand lingering on my cheek.

	"I'm really glad you called me," he said softly.

	"Me too. I think this might have been the best date I've ever been
on."

	He smiled. "Good. It just might be the best date I've ever been on
too."

	We stood grinning at each other like idiots for a minute before
Micah started backing away again. "I guess I'd better go," he said.

	"I guess."

	"Bye."

	"Bye."

	"We'll do this again soon."

	"Promise?"

	"Promise."

	"Ok. Bye."

	"You just said that."

	"Oh."

	He reached the steps and quickly turned and trotted to the car. He
paused again by the car door, then jumped in and drove away. I watched
until the tail lights disappeared from view. I let myself in, my mind still
on Micah.

	"Did you have a nice time?" Adam asked from the kitchen door,
causing me to jump and let out a little yelp. "Sorry," he chuckled.

	"Did you wait up for me?" I asked in a slightly injured tone.

	"No, goofball, I didn't wait up for you. I worked late and then
decided to have a drink before I went to bed. Care to join me?"

	"In a drink?"

	"How does warm milk sound?"

	"Disgusting."

	He laughed. "Then how about a real drink?"

	I was surprised that he'd offer me alcohol, but it made me feel
good at the same time. One more way of showing me he really did see me as
an adult now. I thought about it for a minute, then decided I'd had enough
to drink for one night and shook my head.

	"Join me anyway? Tell me about your night."

	"Ok," I said and followed him into the kitchen. A small glass sat
on the table about half full. I sat down across from the glass and Adam
slid in behind it.

	"So?"

	"It was incredible. I really like Micah a lot."

	"Well, seeing as how he got you home at a fairly decent hour I
think I like him too. What did you guys do?"

	"He took me to dinner and then we went for a walk on the beach and
just talked. Then we went dancing at the Inferno."

	"You were able to get in?"

	"Micah knew the...woman at the door."

	"Carmen?"

	"You know Carmen too?"

	"Everybody knows Carmen."

	"What does she do during the day?"

	"Nobody knows that."

	"Micah does."

	"Did he tell you?"

	"No."

	"Oh well. And then you came home?"

	"Well he showed me his place first."

	"Oh, you went back to his house?"

	"Apartment and it's really nice."

	"Um."

	"We didn't do anything, Adam." Although not for lack of trying on
my part, I thought.

	"I didn't say you did."

	"Micah's really nice. He's a perfect gentleman. He opens doors for
me and everything. He really respects me."

	"I'm glad to hear that. He sounds like a nice guy."

	"He really is. And now I'm really tired so I think I'm gonna head
up to bed."

	"Don't forget we're going to start painting on the house tomorrow."

	"Amalie's house?"

	"No, it's Steve's house. Now get to bed."

	I laughed. "Ok, ok. See you in the morning. Don't get me up too
early."

	"Crack of dawn."

	"I bite."

	"I'll be sure to warn Micah."

	"Ha! Good night, Adam."

	"Good night, Kill."

* * *
	Kane woke me up the next morning moving around the room. I rolled
over and looked at the clock. It was only eight o'clock.

	"Ugh," I grunted.

	"Good morning," he chirped cheerfully.

	"Ugh."

	"You got home late last night. Were you with that guy all that
time?"

	I sat up, suddenly awake. "Yeah, Micah. He's incredible."

	He stopped and looked at me. "You really like him don't you?"

	"Yeah, I do. I mean it was our first date and all..."

	"Did you sleep with him?"

	"Kane!"

	"What? I'm just asking."

	"It's none of your business."

	"So that means no."

	"It means it's none of your damn business."

	"Jeez, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm just kidding. Are you
going to help paint the new house?"

	"Yeah, I guess so."

	"Well, you better drag your ass outta bed and get dressed."

	I sighed and threw back the covers. We got dressed and met Steve
and Adam downstairs, where Adam had a hearty breakfast of doughnuts waiting
for us. We all drove out to the house. It looked just as creepy as it did
last time, but maybe in a little better shape. The yard was better tended
and the painters had finished the outside before they quit. The work on the
deck and dock over the river was going well, the framework was in place.

	"It looks like it's really coming along," I said.

	"You haven't been out here in a while have you?" Steve asked.

	"Nope. Not since you were meeting with that contractor that one
day."

	 "Well, things are coming along pretty well considering. I think it
should all be done in another month or so. We should be able to open this
fall. They still have to clear the back lot, though."

	We all trooped into the house and Steve showed me a few things that
had been done that he was particularly happy with. After my mini-tour, we
were all assigned rooms to paint. Adam and Steve took the kitchen, Kane got
the pantry and I was sent up to the third floor to start on one of the
bedrooms.

	The drop sheets were laid out along the wall and a ladder was in
place to reach the crown moldings next to the high ceiling. A gallon of
paint sat in the center of the room, a brush lying on top. After searching
a few minutes I located a screwdriver to pry the top off and a stick to
stir it. I set to cutting in the trim work first, the tedious part as
anyone who has ever painted a room can tell you. The mindless work allowed
my mind to wander and I had plenty of time to think about Asher and
Micah. It was the first time I had been able to think about Asher without
feeling as if I were poking a raw wound since I had caught him kissing
Caleb. I thought that was an encouraging sign in Micah's favor. I really
liked him. He seemed so honest and genuine, and maybe someone with a little
experience was just what I needed; no more little boys.

	I had been painting and thinking for about an hour when I heard
footsteps in the hall. My back was to the door so I just called out as I
painted.

	"Is it break time?" I asked, thinking it was Adam, Steve or
Kane. There was no answer and suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck
stood up. I carefully laid the brush down on top of the ladder and twisted
around to look. There was no one in sight. "Hey, that's not funny. Who's
there?" There was still no answer so I climbed down the ladder and stepped
into the hall. There was no sign that anyone was on the third besides me
but I was positive I had heard footsteps. Voices drifted up from the
staircase from two floors below so that someone was still down there at
least. Maybe Kane was playing a trick on me. He knew I believed that
something was in the house. I took another look around the hall. It was
then that I noticed the door to the cupola was slightly ajar. Had it been
when I came upstairs? I wasn't sure since I hadn't been paying attention.

	I took a few hesitant steps towards the stairs but suddenly decided
I was being foolish. I threw back my shoulders and strode purposefully down
the hall and yanked the door open the rest of the way. I looked up the
narrow steps. There was no sign of anyone. I decided to put this to rest
once and for all. I started climbing the stairs, quickly at first and then
slowing gradually as I neared the top. Finally, I stopped just short of
where the stairs cleared the floor, my head just out of sight. I screwed up
all my courage and forced myself to peek up over the edge of the floor. I
almost laughed out loud with relief. The tiny room was empty, of course. I
took the last few steps almost lightheartedly and admired the view once
again.

	"Back to work," I told myself and turned to go down the stairs. I
glanced down and froze with my foot on the first step. She was standing at
the foot of the stairs looking up at me, a look of immense sorrow on her
face. She had been pretty once and could have been now but for the weight
of sadness that marred her features. She wore a long dress, dark and drab
with no ornamentation at all, and her hair was pulled back in a severe
bun. She looked different from the last time I saw her, older and more
haggard, but I knew who it was. It was the woman from the portrait I had
found in the storage room. And now I knew that it was a portrait of Amalie.