Summary:
Justin Molina has secrets. He’s served his time but remains a prisoner of his past, unable to forgive himself for failing his family when they needed him most. Justin’s grief is overwhelming, but he keeps silent and focuses on his goals. About to graduate college, he tries to keep his head above water—no matter how many times life keeps knocking him down. When he’s forced to register for a poetry-writing class, Justin discovers putting words to his feelings might be exactly what his fractured heart needs to heal. Or is it the older professor with the bow ties and gentle smile who gives him a chance when no one else will?
Professor Foster Faraday Harding is a broken man. His divorce is final, and he’s reverted back to the safety of his books. Even his poetry no longer brings him joy; he’s sleepwalking through life. The raw emotion of Justin’s poetry awakens Foster to desires he thought long buried in the ashes of his marriage. When he discovers Justin is struggling financially, Foster offers him a solution that benefits both of them. Soon it’s Foster who’s struggling with emotions he can’t understand: Justin is his student. And a man. One crazy night years earlier doesn’t mean anything. Foster is straight.
After months of denying the growing attraction between them, an unexpected kiss changes everything. Justin and Foster are no longer only professor and student—they’ve become lovers, but the strain of hiding their relationship increases with each passing day. Words have the power not only to hurt but to heal the greatest pain. If Foster and Justin listen to what their hearts are saying, they might break through their silence and live their own love poems—together.
Summary:
Benny DeMarco is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. He works hard, takes care of his little sister, and pays the bills. Childhood bullies and an abusive stepfather invade his dreams, and at times he wishes life would grant him a do-over. Would he like a boyfriend? You bet. But Benny knows love isn’t for him. He’s been looked over, looked through, and looked past all his life. Even worse, the one guy he’s been in love with for almost two years is the biggest flirt who will sleep with anyone. Anyone except Benny.
Gino Acosta smiles to keep from crying. Everyone he meets tells him he’s beautiful and sexy, but Gino knows the truth. His outside may be perfect, but inside he feels dirty and unworthy. Bounced around as a child, he yearns for someone to love and a family to call his own. He hops from man to man, desperate to belong, believing the lies he’s told, but all he finds is a body for an hour or two. Things would be so different if only he knew—the man he’s searching for is waiting for him, right under his nose.
Benny starts dating the “perfect guy”and it’s okay if there’s no spark—that’ll happen eventually. Won’t it? Gino’s fast-paced modeling career has taken off, but once again, he’s trading his body for a dream. When Gino’s world explodes, Benny must fight for what and who he really wants. Gino must learn to trust what people tell him—that he’s got so much more to offer than a pretty face and a moment of pleasure.
If all your life you believe you’re nothing, how do you move past heartbreak and hardship to reach for everything?
"Holding onto the past can hurt more than letting it go."
People say six years is long enough to mourn the death of his husband but for Ross Miller, the pain is as fresh as if it happened yesterday. He’s left his glittering Hollywood life behind, yet guilt still dogs his steps, no matter how far he runs. Trapped by his past and needing to escape his well-meaning friends, he rents a cabin in the secluded Adirondack mountains. A reclusive man moves in next door and piques Ross’s interest, but his persistent attempts at friendship are rebuffed. That doesn’t stop him because the one rule Ross Miller has always lived by is to never take no for an answer.
Novelist Arden Wainwright has given up. He can’t pretend a happiness he knows he’ll never find again. Solitary days turn into years, and he remains frozen, unable to take a breath. At his wit’s end, he retreats to the mountains, but it does little to stir his creativity. He continues to hide from life and avoids his overly nosy neighbor, who insists on planting himself at Arden’s doorstep at every turn. Making friends is the last thing Arden wants, but annoying or not, he can’t get the damn man out of his mind.
Finding peace in their isolated surroundings, the two lonely men forge an unlikely friendship where they realize they’re more alike than different and better together than apart. With Ross’s help, Arden begins to rebuild the shattered pieces of his life, while Arden gives Ross the strength to face his fears and find his way home. When love comes calling you can choose to hide from hurt, loss, and pain, but if you take a chance and open the door, you might discover that running from your heart is the last thing you'll want to do.
This book can be read as a stand alone but you may remember Ross, Foster's best friend from Broken Silence, Book One of the Rock Bottom series.
Broken Silence #1
CHAPTER ONE
Justin
Damn, this professor is hot.
I’d registered so late this semester, I was stuck taking a bunch of crap I wasn’t interested in, like this class: Introduction to Poetry Writing. Like, what the actual fuck was I going to do with this in my life?
But maybe I could live with it if I could fantasize about Professor McHottie. I slid into the last desk in the back row, where I could check him out without notice.
I accepted the sheet of paper the pimply guy in the next seat handed me with the curriculum printed on it, and I scanned it for the prof’s name: Professor Foster F. Harding. That was a mouthful. What did the F stand for? I wondered. Fuckable? I laughed to myself.
“Good morning. I’m Professor Harding.”
I’d thought a guy who studied poems would be soft-spoken, old, and wear a bow tie. But Professor Foster F. Harding had to be in his late thirties or early forties and was broad-shouldered with a head full of honey-blond wavy hair. He did, however, wear a bow tie and a cardigan. How could I think him sexy? My mother wore those sweaters, for God’s sake. The class quieted down, and he faced us with a gentle smile.
“This semester I hope to introduce you to the beauty of words—your words. Poetry is different for all people. There are love poems, fight poems, poems about war, poems about peace. Some rhyme, some don’t. Some may be pages long while others are only a few words.” He took off that stupid sweater and draped it over the back of his chair. “Now, how many here have been writing poems regularly?”
More than half the class raised their hands. I slouched down in my seat.
“Excellent. How about the rest of you? Occasionally, say once every few months or at least a few times a year?”
Almost all of those who hadn’t raised their hands now did so, leaving me and maybe one other student looking everywhere but at the professor.
“Very good. Now as for those of you who are only here because you got shut out of a class you wanted to take in this time period, you’re going to have to suffer along and do the best you can.” I heard the amusement in his voice, and I had to press my lips together to hold back my laughter, even as I checked him out.
A smile rested on his face as he glanced around the classroom. His gaze passed over me, then returned. I raised a brow, crossed my arms, and settled in my seat. I knew I didn’t look like most of the other students who’d barely reached the legal drinking age, if that. I was older by a few years and battle-weary. A year in jail would do that to anyone. I saw some of the girls checking me out, their eyes lingering on the tattoos on my arms, thinking I was a bad boy with a hidden poet’s soft heart.
Don’t kid yourselves, girls. No heart of gold here.
The professor’s gentle smile faded and he blinked, then cleared his throat.
“Yes, well, let’s get started. Since it’s the first class, I won’t keep you the entire period. Your assignment is to pick a word and write a poem about it. There’s no limit on the length. It can be as long or short as you like. Of course, I’m not saying two words is appropriate, but as poets, you’ll know when it feels right to stop.”
A student raised his hand, and the earnest expression on his face made me want to laugh. Did they really think this class was going to make them a poet or that they’d make a living writing poetry?
The professor called on him. “Yes?”
“Do you have a list of suggested words, or is it any word we want?”
“I prefer for you to use whatever word you choose. I trust you all as adults.”
I could see my poem now: “My Dick” by Justin Molina. I snickered to myself at the thought.
“Of course, there are some who might use this as an exercise in silliness, but I’m sure we’re all beyond that kind of childish behavior.”
I darted a glance at the professor to find his mild-mannered gaze resting on me as if he could read my thoughts. My face flamed. Fuck. This is stupid. There’s my word. I’ll go home and write a poem about how stupid it is to write poetry.
“I’ll see you all here next week. Please have your poems ready by then.” He collected the extra curriculum sheets and put them in his briefcase.
I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder and walked out of the classroom. Only one more year and I’d be done. The first in my family to graduate not only high school, but college as well.
I headed outside on Lafayette Street toward Washington Square Park, stopping first at the coffee cart. No four-dollar coffee for me. Every penny I made at my work-study job at the library went either to food or rent. I hadn’t seen a movie in years, didn’t have cable or a fancy computer. My phone came through the government. Dinner out was Papaya King or a ninety-nine-cent slice of pizza; otherwise it was whatever was on sale at the supermarket that week. I had the park to run through and could use the university gym if I felt inclined to exercise.
I sat on a bench, greedily inhaling the scent of weed from the group of frat boys two benches down. Another thing I didn’t have money for, but damn, I missed the high. I’d never used hard drugs, but weed took the edge off if my day was shit. Which it was most of the time.
I sipped my coffee and checked out the guys and girls strolling by. The air blew warm, and the boobs and biceps were on full display. I’d always been an equal-opportunity appreciator, but lately my taste ran to guys. I’d lost my steady girl, Crystal, when I went to prison, but I wasn’t surprised. We’d had no commitment, so I couldn’t expect her to stay. Inside, I found plenty of guys willing to suck my dick, and not only was I satisfied with that, but I wanted more. As long as I returned the favor, it was cool with them. Once I got out, I’d never had trouble finding sex with a guy if I wanted to get off.
“Hey, I thought I’d find you here. How’d the first class go?” My friend Benny plunked himself next to me. Our junior year we’d worked together and became friends, especially when Benny confided in me that his stepfather and stepbrother didn’t care for him and put him down whenever they could, which was all the time. I’d offered him my place to crash if he needed to hide out, but he didn’t want to leave his younger sister alone in the house. Once their mom died, he took it upon himself to watch over her, and I had tremendous respect for him.
“Man, what do you think? Poetry writing.” I snorted. “A fucking waste of time, but I didn’t realize I needed one last humanities class to graduate, and everything else was closed out by the time I registered.”
Benny snickered. “That’s a riot. You all up in your feelings, writing mushy shit.”
“Don’t count on it,” I said darkly, then grinned. “At least the professor is hot. Maybe I could write a poem about him.” I pulled out my notebook and scribbled: My prof is hot, his face is sweet; if I could suck him off, my life would be complete. When I read it out loud to Benny, he made puking noises, and I punched him in the shoulder.
“Shut up. What’s going on with you? Still working at that gym?”
“Yeah. I had to cut my hours, but it’s okay ’cause my boss said once I graduate, I might be able to come work for him full-time as sort of a business manager. You know I had to switch my major around when I couldn’t pass those science classes for pharmacology, but I’m hoping things work out at the gym. I really like working there.”
I gave him a fist bump. “Proud of you, man. That’s awesome. And what about that guy you had the hots for?”
Benny’s face drooped. “Gino?”
“Yeah. The asshole who never asked you out.”
“He’s into guys way hotter than me. It’s fine. I’m over him.”
But from Benny’s hangdog face and sad eyes, I knew he was fooling himself.
Benny sipped his coffee and pulled out his laptop. “I gotta add my classes to my phone, otherwise I’ll never remember where I’m supposed to be and when. Plus, keeping up with two jobs…I don’t know if I’m coming or going.” He huffed out a laugh. “You meet anyone over the summer?”
“Nah. I worked at a supermarket and fucked around a lot, but nothing serious. And at least you got people who will hire you,” I said darkly. “Once they find out I was in jail, they find some excuse to not hire me, even though it’s illegal.” I gulped down the rest of my coffee and crumpled the cup in my fist. “I gotta find a way to make more money—the work-study isn’t gonna cut it, and the supermarket gig ended.”
“You’ll find something. I’ll ask Jeremy at the gym if he needs anyone extra.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll do anything…mop the floors, clean toilets…anything. Except fuck someone for money. I draw the line there.”
“Glad to hear,” Benny said faintly. “Maybe you can tutor someone. You’re good at writing essays. You helped me pass my English lit class.”
Not a bad idea. “I’m glad. You think I can make money doing that?”
He shrugged. “It can’t hurt to try. And yeah, tutors make good money. Check out the listings. I bet you could make twenty-five or thirty bucks an hour. Even if you get just two people every week, that has to help. And it’s tax-free. All cash.”
“Yeah.” I thought a minute. “Good idea.”
“Here,” he said and shoved his computer onto my lap. “Look at the message board. Register and see if you get any takers. It’s the perfect time, at the beginning of the semester.”
“Okay.” I scanned through the tutors’ ads and thought about what I’d like to say. I handed Benny his computer. “Thanks. I’ll definitely think about it.”
“No problem.” He stuck the laptop into his backpack. “Hope it helps.” He tossed his cup into the trash can and stood. “I gotta get to class. Talk to you later.”
“See ya.” We clasped hands, and I watched him lope away, red hair ruffling in the breeze. My only other class for the day—Urban Families and Economic Development—wasn’t until the afternoon, but first I had to put in a shift at the library in about half an hour. Fishing a protein bar out of the bottom of my backpack, I scanned the park. The frat boys had long gone, their seats now occupied by young mothers and babysitters with strollers. My eyes widened in surprise as my poetry professor entered the park and sat opposite me, two benches away. He undid his bow tie and collar and settled back with his eyes closed, raising his face to the sun.
The light picked up the golden glints in his hair, and as he hadn’t seen me, I could study his face. He was good-looking, and his lips were full, pink and soft. It had been too fucking long since I’d gotten off, especially if I was thinking about my professor’s mouth. But there were also bags underneath his eyes, and tight lines scored his face from nose to mouth. What could he have to worry about? He carried an expensive leather briefcase and wore a heavy gold band on his finger that would solve my rent problems for at least six months.
First-world problems, I thought to myself with scorn. Maybe he’d become lactose intolerant and could only have soy milk in his triple venti upside-down half-mocha latte. Or he couldn’t get tickets to his favorite ballet. I ripped open the wrapper of my bar and chewed a bite off the corner. It was stale and hard, but I forced myself to finish it. I had twenty minutes to make it to the library and clock in, and I had neither the money nor the time to stop and grab something to eat. I got up, and giving my professor one last look-over, left the park.
When I walked into the library, the head librarian, Reggie Caldwell, was in the midst of showing one of the new work-study students the ropes. Reggie was cool to work for. He knew I needed the max number of hours to make the most money and was always willing to help me out.
“Hey, Reggie.”
“Justin, my man. How was the summer?”
“Oh, great, just great. First I went to Paris, then jetted off to Italy, where I spent time on my yacht.” I smirked, and Reggie, always one for a joke, played along.
“Bastard. You said you’d fly me over in your private jet.”
The trainee, a pretty woman, about twenty, had light-brown eyes and long braids hanging halfway down her back. Her white tank top and shorts showed off her smooth, dark skin and hugged her curves in all the right places. As she listened to our conversation, her gaze ping-ponged between the two of us, and her mouth formed a perfect O until I figured to set her straight.
“Don’t mind us. He’s bullshitting and so am I. Hi, I’m Justin, the other poor scholarship work baby. The closest I’ve ever come to Italy is eating my microwaved frozen lasagna.”
Her laughter tinkled like silver bells. “I was wondering what the heck was going on. Hi, I’m Serena.” We made eye contact, but my head was still full of the sexy professor I left in the park. She offered her hand, and her long, red-tipped fingers squeezed mine, but I didn’t follow up with any lingering touches.
“Okay, you two. I’m going to log in the new books. Justin, why don’t you go over the basics with Serena?” He patted the counter, then left us alone.
“Sure thing. It’s pretty easy. We just check the books in by swiping their ID cards and scanning the books they want to check out. Easy-peasy. We also have to reshelve the returns and pick up the books left on the tables.”
“Okay, sounds cool.” She twisted her braids over her shoulder. “Tell me about you. Reggie said you’re a senior? What’s your major?”
“Sociology.”
“Oh, cool. I’m a junior, majoring in chemistry.”
“Whoa. That’s tough.”
“Yeah. This year is rough. Organic Chemistry Two.” She shuddered. “I’ve heard horror stories since I was in high school. But when my dad died of cancer right before my high-school graduation, I wanted to do something that might help other people in the future. I worked in a lab for a couple of years before applying to college.”
I nodded but didn’t share my similar story. How I wanted to help disadvantaged children in the system so they could have a fighting chance and not merely become a statistic. It was too personal, too private, and I wasn’t the kind of person to spill my guts to friends, never mind a stranger.
“What classes have you had so far?” She stacked the books Reggie had already checked in.
“I got stuck in a poetry-writing seminar.”
“Oooh, with Professor Harding? He’s so hot. I had him last year. I could’ve spent the whole semester staring at him.”
I shrugged, but yeah. Same, I wanted to say but held my tongue.
“Poor guy. I feel so bad for him.”
“Why? He looked fine to me.” Really fine.
“Oh, his wife walked out on him the first day of classes last year, and it devastated him. They’d only been married a few years, I think. She was an actress or a wannabe, I hear. I only saw her once. She’s okay.”
Her begrudging voice led me to believe Mrs. Harding was more than okay and was probably as gorgeous as her husband.
“Oh well, shit happens,” I said with a shrug.
“She was a lot younger than him. Like in her early twenties.”
Now my interest was piqued. Who would have thought Professor Mild-Mannered would be playing around in the sandbox?
“How old is he? He looks pretty young.”
Serena sat on the desk, in full gossip mode. “Oh, he’s at least forty, maybe a few years older. Looks much younger, right?”
“Yeah, totally.”
“He’s so sweet and nice. I wouldn’t mind hooking up with him, if he’s into younger women.”
“Well, he’s probably going through a messy divorce, so I’m sure he’s not looking for a girlfriend.”
“I know.” Her dark eyes raked me over. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Uh, no.” I decided to be up-front with her. As much as I could. “I’m into guys.”
“Dammit. Every guy I meet these days is gay.”
“Well, I’m bi.”
“It’s okay,” she said moodily. She chewed on her bright-red fingernail. “I’m just lonely. My roomie is always with her boyfriend, and I miss having someone to hang out with.”
“We can still hang out. Just nothing more.” I liked her and understood about loneliness. “Sound good?”
“Yeah. How about tonight? We can go to that bar on MacDougal Street everyone’s been talking about.”
“Is there a cover? I’m a starving student.”
“Oh. No, I don’t think so. What do you say? Celebrate the first day of classes.”
There was nothing I’d rather do less than stand around some bar filled with drunk students looking to hook up. But Serena was sweet, and I felt bad for her being dumped by her friend. I could go and drink water. I always was a sucker for big pleading eyes, and hers did a number on me. “Okay. You got a date.”
“Oh, yay.” She squeezed my arm. “You’ll see. You’ll have fun. I promise.”
I doubted it. Fun wasn’t a word I counted in my vocabulary. “Sounds good. I’m going to get started on my poem for that class so I can forget about it. We have to pick a word and write a poem on it.”
“Ohh. What’s your word?”
“Stupid.” The word came out before I had a chance to think it through. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It was how I felt most of the time. “It’s the perfect word for me.”
Imitation of Life #2
CHAPTER ONE
Entering Hard Core Fitness seemed different today, though the same music played on the speakers and, as usual, several people were already working with the weights in the back or on the treadmills and ellipticals lining the front.
“Hey, Benny, what’s shakin’?”
I raised my hand in greeting to one of the early morning regulars, sweating through his run.
“Nuthin’. Same old, same old.”
But it wasn’t. I continued walking, only this time I didn’t circle around the U-shaped front desk to sit and answer the phones. Instead, I walked to the back and stopped in front of the second door on the left.
My office.
It wasn’t big and didn’t have a window or anything, but for me, it was the beginning of a whole new life—a whole new world.
“Oh, shit. You’re here already.”
Jeremy skidded to a stop as he rounded the corner, and I smiled. “Just getting in. Why?”
“I wanted to get here before you and bring you coffee and a bagel like you always used to get for me.” His blue eyes twinkled. “I overslept, though. Me ’n Blake stayed up late celebrating our one-year anniversary of getting back together and moving in with each other. I kinda forgot the time.”
“I can see.” I craned my head and snickered. “Looks like it was a long night. Maybe you should wear a turtleneck or something.”
“What? Oh.” When my gaze zeroed in on his throat, Jeremy ran a hand down his neck and turned a little red. “Well, yeah. You know how it goes.”
“Sure,” I said with a forced smile. But I didn’t. Not one fucking clue. The soft smile on Jeremy’s lips gave me a good idea, however.
“Anyway, here.” Jeremy thrust a coffee and a bag that smelled like a bagel in my face. “Welcome to your first day.”
Touched that he went out of his way, I simply stood and stared at the coffee and paper bag. “For me?”
“Yeah, for you.” Jeremy motioned with it. “Take it.”
“Th-thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
It was more than my stepfather did. When he found out today was my first day at the new job, he merely grunted and lit another cigarette. “Don’t forget I ain’t coming home tonight. You gotta make dinner for your sister.”
Not like I didn’t do it every night.
“No big deal. Now let’s get you set up.”
It was a big deal. Jeremy made me feel good about myself in a way no one else ever did.
I sat behind the desk and ran my hand over the smooth surface. When I answered an ad to be the front-desk person at Hard Core Fitness, I’d never dreamed I’d be keeping the company’s books and records. The gym was Jeremy’s baby, and I knew how hands-on he was and how much his business meant to him.
“I really appreciate you giving me the chance, Jer. I-I won’t let you down.”
His dark brows knitted together. “I never thought you would. That’s why I offered you the job. I saw right from the beginning you were a hard worker, industrious and smart. Maybe one of the smartest people I know.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “That’s not true,” I mumbled, pulling the bagel from the bag.
“Maybe you’re right.” He crossed his muscular arms and leaned against the wall. “You’re still hung up on Gino, right?”
Face burning, I swiveled around in my chair to escape Jeremy’s sympathetic eyes.
“We’re friends. I know nothing’s gonna happen. It’s fine.”
“Knowing it in your head is one thing, kiddo. Telling it to your heart is another.” He passed the threshold of the office and stood in the hallway. “I’ll leave you alone to finish your breakfast.”
When Jeremy left, I touched the shining wood desktop while I ate the bagel slowly, making sure no crumbs fell anywhere but on the napkin I’d spread out. This office was my haven. A safe place I could breathe deep and be myself, and I wanted it far away from the ugliness of my real life. I spent the next three hours getting familiar with all the paperwork and computer programs.
“Damn, Mr. Corporate. Lookit you sitting there so fine in that suit.” Gino breezed in, and my traitorous heart jumped. Tall, lean, and tan, Gino Acosta had been the subject of my secret fantasies for almost two years now. Dark hair framed a perfect face with a dazzling white smile. Melting brown eyes with thick lashes gazed at me, rendering me weak at the knees and hard as a rock.
“H-hi. What do you think?” I stood up and fiddled with my tie. “Not too bad, right?”
Over the past year I’d learned to hide my crush and pretend Gino meant nothing to me. Every day I walked into Hard Core, I vowed it would be the day I’d forget him. And Gino made it easy for me to keep that promise. He was a flirt and a tease, and I knew he slept around. I heard the talk. It was no secret that the guys he met only went with him for sex. They weren’t interested in him for anything else. I believed a person should value their body and their heart. Gino did neither, but then, he didn’t care what I thought.
In fact, the only person he had no interest in was me. I was Benny the friend. The work buddy.
But no matter what I did to forget him, I couldn’t get Gino Acosta out of my head.
He whistled low. “You look hot, Benny.” His fluid, cat-like stride brought him to within inches of me, so close that I could almost feel the rough stubble of his jaw against my own smooth one and smell his cologne. Its warm scent coupled with his body heat sent a shiver through me. Gino smiled.
“Lemme fix this. It’s crooked. Gotta have you perfect for your first day.” He reached out and adjusted my tie, his long fingers dark against my white shirt.
A bit dazed by his proximity, I wondered what those hands would look like against my pale skin, and I had to bite back my laughter. Like I’d ever be naked with Gino. Talk about fantasy come to life.
“There.” He ran his thumb over my jawline. “Gorgeous as always. I can’t believe no one ever snapped you up in college. Thought those college boys were supposed to be smart.”
“Um…I don’t know.” Sharp, Benny. Real cool.
“They need to talk to me. I could tell them what a catch you are. What happened to the glasses?” His palm rested on my face, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from sighing at his touch.
Did he even know how much I wanted him? That every night I lay awake, imagining him kissing me?
Desperate to break eye contact, I ducked my head and retreated. “Thanks. Uh, I got contacts. And I’m okay. I don’t have time to date, with the new job and stuff. Once I make more money, I’m gonna look for an apartment. I gotta get away from my stepfather.”
Gino flopped down in the chair across from me and stretched out his long legs. The corded muscles in his thighs rippled under his smooth, tan skin, and my mouth dried. I forced myself to look everywhere but at Gino sitting sprawled before me in his tight T-shirt and thin workout shorts.
“He’s still being a bastard? He don’t hit you, right?”
“No, nothing like that. But I know he resents me, and when he gets drunk he’s nasty. Even my stepbrother, Andrew, got sick of him and enlisted in the army to get away. Once I find an apartment for Chloe and me, I can relax.”
“It ain’t easy, trust me,” Gino said darkly. “I’ve been there.” He chewed on his thumb, gazing off into space.
“Yeah, I know. But I have to do it. He’s getting worse, and I don’t want Chloe in that environment anymore. She’s a teenager—she needs a stable home more than ever.”
Gino didn’t respond. I doubted he even heard me. The laughing eyes had turned dim and vacant, and a sense of unease rose up in me.
“Hey, you okay?”
He continued to gnaw on his thumb.
“Gino.”
Flecks of blood stained his lips. He jerked his head up, blinking back to awareness. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” He dragged his hand through his hair and gave me a fake laugh. “Must’ve zoned out for a minute.”
“You okay?” I asked him again, circling from behind the desk to sit in front of him.
“Me? Yeah. ’Course. Just had a late night.” The teasing light returned to warm his brown eyes. “You know that big dude who comes in every night an hour before closing? The one with the earrings and the tats?” He licked his lips, and my heart fell.
“Yeah.” Not wanting to hear what was coming, I got up, returned to my seat, and booted up my computer. “I better get to work. Jeremy isn’t paying me to sit around and talk.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just lemme tell you. His name’s Ricky, and he’s got a dick like a club. I swear I still feel it inside me.” He rubbed his chest, but I noticed his hand shook a bit. “He went forever.”
“Okay,” I said faintly. “Great.”
“Damn, he was. My ass hurts like a son of a bitch, and when I sucked him off, I thought my jaw would fall off—”
“I get the point,” I gritted out.
He unfolded those long legs and rose from his seat. “Better get out on the floor. Gotta leave early—I’m modeling a line of athletic wear for this new company my agent found.” Without waiting for me to answer, he bounced out the door.
Why do I bother? I scrubbed my face, more determined than ever to forget Gino. My best friend, Justin, was right. I should stop wasting my time thinking about someone who never thought about me.
I buried myself in gym invoices, figuring out which ones were overdue, which ones were current, and creating a tickler system. Jeremy had done a good job of keeping track, but he had a lot on his plate, and I found a few slipups; plus, he’d combined the receipts of the juice shop he ran as a separate entity with the gym receipts. A business no-no.
I finished untangling that mess and stretched the kinks out of my neck. I needed to pee and get something to eat for lunch. When I used to work the front desk with Gino, we’d take turns buying lunch, but now Gino was busy with his modeling and customer-relations work for the gym, and I was in the office. Whatever. I need to talk to Jeremy anyway.
I picked up the pad I’d taken notes on about companies we had expiring licenses for and went to Jeremy’s office. When I peeked inside, it was empty. The sound of his laughter drew me to the front, but first I stopped at the bathroom before heading there. I found him sitting behind the desk with the two new people he’d hired to answer the phones and greet clients.
“There he is.” Jeremy waved me over with a big grin. There was something so infectious about his good humor, I couldn’t help but return his smile. “How’s the first day going? I’ve left you alone to sort yourself out, but you must be starving.”
“Yeah, I am. I gotta find something to eat.”
“I’m treating you.” Jeremy lazed back in his chair next to the guy—Travis—he’d hired to replace me. Travis didn’t pay me much attention, but the other guy, with wheat-blond hair and dark eyes, gave me a tentative smile. I hadn’t met him yet.
“You don’t have to, Jeremy. I can get a sandwich or something.”
“Please. We met Noah and Oren at Nora’s last night, and I have enough left over to feed a small country. You’ll be doing Blake and me a favor if you help us eat it.”
Remembering the delicious Italian food Jeremy occasionally brought us, I would be a fool to turn it down.
“Okay, thanks.”
“I’m meeting my girlfriend,” Travis said. “She works in the hair salon around the corner and asked if I could take my lunch at twelve thirty. Is that okay, Jeremy?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s slow, and Parker is here to cover.”
“Thanks.” Travis jumped out of his chair and hurried out the door.
“You don’t mind, do you, Parker?” Jeremy scooted his chair nearer. “We’re pretty informal, so if you want a certain lunchtime, you and Travis can arrange it.”
“Yeah, that’s what Gino and I used to do.” I walked over and stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Benny.”
“Parker.” Again, a nervous half smile.
“Parker is into dance and yoga and stuff like that.”
“That’s great. I hear yoga is good for stress.” I made a point of giving Jeremy a hard stare. “You should try it.”
“Listen, I already have a mother and a boyfriend nagging me to slow down. Don’t you start too.” Jeremy said it all in such a good-natured tone of voice, I couldn’t take it the wrong way.
“You work long hours. That’s why you hired me. To take the load off a little.”
Jeremy’s assessing stare unnerved me. “College really agreed with you. Toughened you up.”
“S-sometimes you have no choice.” I had to look out for my sister. Her welfare was my number-one concern.
Parker tucked behind his ear the strands of long blond hair that had escaped his messy bun. “Yoga and just learning to breathe properly can help a whole host of problems. I could teach both of you. If you want, of course,” he hastened to add. Pink tinged his cheeks as he slanted me a quick look from underneath the wisps of hair.
He was beautiful—the contrast of pale, gleaming skin was startling with his almost black eyes—and I sensed his interest. At that moment Gino sauntered over, and I watched Parker’s eyes widen, his full lips part, and I knew I became invisible.
“Hey, everyone. Parker, you’re looking sexy as hell in those leggings. Really shows off your ass-ets.” He hesitated long enough to give the words a sexual meaning.
“Gino, you’re crazy.” Parker fluttered his eyes at Gino, who gave him one of those blinding grins that made all the men pant after him. For the first three months Gino and I worked together, Jeremy warned him countless times to stop flirting with the customers while he was working. Even Jeremy wasn’t exempt from Gino’s sexual innuendos, and Gino had come close to being fired several times. If I were interested in Parker, which I wasn’t, I could never compete with Gino’s charm, charisma, and good looks. I could never compete against Gino for anything.
“Come on, Benny. Let’s have lunch. Gino, cover the desk with Parker.” Jeremy slung an arm over me, and I almost buckled under the weight as we left them to return to Jeremy’s office.
“Sure, Jer. Not a hardship at all.”
Behind us, Parker’s laugh floated in the air like wind chimes.
“Don’t let it get to you. Parker isn’t his type.” Jeremy’s dark-blue eyes observed me with kindness, but it didn’t help. I slumped down on the sofa in his office while he put a plate in the microwave.
“I’m not an idiot, you know. I have eyes. You don’t have to make me feel better. I’m the one who’s not his type. I’m not much of anything. Not strong enough, not good-looking enough, not sexy enough…” I pressed my lips together, angry once again that I’d fallen into the familiar pattern of letting Gino determine my mood once I stepped through the doors.
Plunking a steaming plate in front of me, Jeremy glared at me before sitting behind his desk. He picked up his fork, but rather than eating, he continued to lecture me. “Don’t be stupid. You’re starting a whole new chapter of your life. Don’t let anything from the past, especially a guy who’s never been anything but a distraction, hold you back. Much as I hate to say it, Gino is who he is, and after all this time, maybe you should think about moving on.”
I shoveled some food in my mouth so I didn’t have to answer. I was always second-string when it came to Gino. My head knew Jeremy was right, but my heart wasn’t ready to listen.
Running from My Heart #3
CHAPTER ONE
Six years earlier
“Why didn’t you tell me you auditioned for a new part? I thought we discussed taking time off to relax?”
Dominic waited in front of me, pale and visibly annoyed. He remained frustratingly silent, which I took as my opportunity to vent. “We have trips planned, including one back East to visit Foster. We haven’t seen him in over a year. And what about Italy, Greece, and the Maldives? We decided on all of this together, I thought.”
Sunlight burst through the wall of windows in our Malibu home, washing the powder-blue walls almost white, but all I saw was red. I didn’t pay attention to the multimillion-dollar view of the Pacific Ocean or the sweeping turquoise sky. I was more interested in why the man I’d loved almost half my life now seemed like a stranger.
“No, you decided. You always decide everything, and I’m tired of it. Of course I want to see Foster; that’s not the point. You decided to take time off from directing to relax, and I support you. But why does that mean I should put my life on hold?”
His words hit me like a punch to my gut, and all the breath left my body. I took a seat on the long, low white sectional couch.
“I didn’t think I was asking you to do that.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t think about me at all. That’s what our relationship has become. You’re the one with the Oscar nominations and a SAG Award, and I’m proud of you. No one’s more thrilled with your success than me. But when is my chance in the sun?”
“Dom, what’re you talking about? You wrapped up a project three months ago, and all the buzz everywhere is that you were brilliant.”
Dominic had landed a lead role in a movie as a divorced, single father struggling with alcoholism, who meets his love interest at an AA meeting. He’d been ecstatic to get this meaty, emotional part after years of playing secondary roles as the main character’s best friend.
“The studio pulled it, and it’s going straight to HBO. Ezra called this morning and said the early focus groups thought it was too depressing.”
Stunned, I reached out a hand to comfort him, but he either didn’t notice or ignored me. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m having lunch tomorrow with Rick Gregson, and I know he’s lining up a few projects. I could—”
“No, dammit.” He stormed away from me to stare out the windows. “I don’t want to get a part because my famous husband called in favors. I studied my ass off in acting school. I left New York and Broadway so you could make it in Hollywood. It’s my turn now.”
Confused by the level of Dominic’s anger, I left the couch to stand behind him. “I didn’t know you felt this way. You never said it bothered you to leave New York. I thought you were happy to come to California. ‘I love the warm weather.’ That’s all you said.”
“Because I saw how much it meant to you. So now why can’t you understand that I want that same respect?”
“You think I don’t respect you?” Where was all this resentment coming from? “I love you more than anything; you know that.”
We’d met at an after party for a small, independent film I’d done. I took one look at his twinkling brown eyes and was lost. After an evening of talking, laughing, and flirting, I invited him to brunch the next day; then we spent the night together, and he never went home. Dominic was the other half of my heart. The man who made me whole.
“I mentioned respect, and you brought up love.”
“I don’t think of one without the other when it comes to you.”
Finally, Dominic turned away from the windows and met my eyes. “Do you? Sometimes I’m not sure you have faith in me. I’m not sure you believe I have the talent to make it.”
We’d had this discussion before. I knew actors needed ego-stroking, but Dominic shouldn’t need me to tell him every day how wonderful an actor he was. He was more important to me as a husband. Somewhere, for him at least, the lines had blurred between the two.
“That’s crazy, honey. You know I think you’re a tremendously talented actor. The right part is out there waiting.”
“I’m glad you said that.” Dom gave me the full brilliance of his smile. “Because this is the one. I got the offer last night and told Ezra I’m taking the part.”
Dread and dismay seeped through me. “Without even mentioning it to me? Why would you do that?”
“Because of this exact reaction. You trying to dissuade me and hold me back. I’m taking the part, Ross. It could be a game changer for me. If you want to take time off, that’s fine. But I’m not trotting along after you like your puppy.”
“Trotting after me? Puppy? What the hell does that even mean? I can’t believe you just threw away a whole year of plans without bothering to tell me.”
“I knew you’d respond this way. You’re being selfish.”
“Selfish?” What the hell was happening here? “Me? How am I being selfish, when you’re the one who didn’t give a damn about my opinions and decided everything on his own?”
“I already knew what the answer would be. It’s always the same. You carry the weight. You pay the bills. Whatever you say goes.” Dom’s eyes, always warm and twinkling, now gazed back at me with accusation. “I’m tired of it. I need a break.”
The pain in my chest made me think I might be having a heart attack. “A break? From what?” I could barely hear myself over the roaring in my head.
Dom hesitated only a second. “Us. Maybe you should go away for a while. Alone.”
“Alone?” I repeated. I didn’t want that. “I only want to be with you. I don’t want to go by myself.”
“Maybe I’m the one who needs a break.”
I almost couldn’t ask the question, but it tumbled out before I could stop it. “Is there someone else?”
“No. Never.” The answer, swift and definite, should’ve satisfied me, but my head was too clouded by pain. “There could never be anyone else for me but you.” A sad smile tipped his lips upward. “But I need to find out who I am aside from being Ross Miller’s husband.”
I touched his face, and his mouth tasted as sweet and warm as the first time we’d kissed, but the laughter was gone.
“I don’t want to go without you.”
“That’s your decision. But I’m not giving up this part.” His face tightened. “I have to go. I’m late to meet Ezra and Sunny at the beach. We’re going surfing.”
Without a good-bye kiss or a smile, he gave me his back and walked away, leaving me wondering what the hell was going on. Before I could call out and plead with him to stay, or to let me come with him, the front door slammed and he was gone. The roar of the Porsche’s engine split the silence, and then nothing.
For a few minutes I remained by the windows, the anger in the air as alive as if Dom were still in the room with me. Was he right? Did I put my needs before his? I’d always thought I was a supportive husband. Picking apart the last few months in my head, I stomped outside to the pool and threw myself in the water, determined to swim off my bad mood. After fifteen laps, it hadn’t worked. I took a shower, got dressed, and paced around the house. I’d thought we’d be sharing a nice breakfast together, and instead, he’d left me to be with his agent and PA.
“Dammit.” I ran a hand through my hair, picked up my phone, and called Foster.
“Ross, how are you?” As always, Foster’s quiet voice grounded me.
“I don’t know.” I dropped down to the couch again. “First, how’re you doing? How’re classes?”
“Different students, but everything else is the same.”
Even though I knew the answer, I had to ask. “Dating anyone?”
A long-suffering sigh resounded in my ear. “No. Nobody.”
“And I bet you’re sitting home every night too. You’re never going to find someone by hiding in that giant house of yours.” I hated knowing Foster sat alone night after night. When Dom and I moved, I’d made him promise me to get out more, but I doubted he followed through. Foster preferred books to people.
“I’m not hiding. Maybe I’m happy being alone.”
“Honey, nobody’s happy being by themselves.”
“I’m not you. You need to be surrounded by people. You love the crowds.”
While I did love the nightlife, I equally preferred my nights spent with Dominic. Aside from Foster, whom I’d known almost my whole life, Dom was the only one who understood me. That is, I thought he did. I gnawed on my lower lip.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course. What’s going on? I can tell from your voice this is more than a simple catch-up call.”
I examined the intricately woven pattern on the colorful rug and remembered the trip Dom and I took to Morocco after we got married. The sights and sounds of the crowded streets and bazaars, the smells and tastes of the delicious, exotic foods made it unforgettable. We’d brought back the rug to keep a piece of that time alive with us forever.
“Am I a selfish person?”
“What brought this on?”
As upset as I was, I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re such a New Yorker. Instead of answering a question, you ask one of your own. It’s one of the things I miss most about home.” I sobered. “Seriously, though. Dom and I…we had a fight—a big one. And he said some things that made me wonder if I don’t take people’s feelings into consideration and do what I want, expecting them to fall in line.” I grimaced. “Do I?”
“You aren’t selfish.” Foster’s even, measured voice held an undercurrent of amusement. “But you are a big personality, and sometimes people follow you because they’re either intimidated or they don’t want to start an argument.”
Shit. “That makes me sound like a horrible person.”
“No. You’re far from it. But you do need to stop sometimes and think about what other people might be feeling and why. What happened between you and Dom?”
My mind had already begun spinning, thinking up a scenario to make it up to my husband. I’d cancel the trips—who cared about the money when Dominic was so obviously distressed? Then I’d make sure to be as encouraging as I could, downplaying my work. I had enough money to last me a lifetime. I couldn’t care less about the awards and the accolades. Having Dominic by my side was all that mattered.
“I love you. And I gotta go. Thank you. I knew talking it out with you would help.”
Foster laughed. “I’m not sure how, but I’m happy to accept the credit.”
“Talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”
I pressed the Speed Dial button for my assistant. “Cass? I need a favor. I want four dozen red roses delivered here in about an hour. Plus, please pick up matching Love bracelets from Cartier—you have our sizes. Plain gold, no diamonds.”
“Sure, Ross. Anything else?” Cass was the perfect assistant. Unfailingly positive and unflappable, he performed magic no matter how impossible the task I asked him to accomplish.
“Yeah. I’ll need two filet dinners and some of those chocolate-dipped strawberries. Dom loves those.”
“Got it.” He hesitated. “It’s not your anniversary. Something special going on?”
“Nope. Just letting Dom know how much I love him and that I’m behind him one hundred percent.” My phone beeped with a call from Ezra. “I gotta go. Dom’s agent is calling.”
“Got it. Okay, I’m on it. I’ll report back when I’ve picked up the bracelets.”
“Thanks, Cass.”
“No problem.”
I hit the Accept button.
“Ezra? What’s go—”
“Ross. There’s been an accident.”
My heart almost stopped. “What happened? Where’s Dom? Is he all right?”
“You need to come to Woodland Hills Hospital.”
I tried to speak, failed, then tried again. “Tell me. What’s going on?” I croaked out. “Where’s Dom? Why isn’t he calling me?” I heard the echo of my scream. I felt light-headed and nauseated.
“Ross…” Ezra’s voice broke. “Don’t make me tell you on the phone. Please.”
A gray mist enveloped me. “Tell me now.”
“Dom was surfing and got pulled under. The board must’ve struck his head. It took a while to get to him. They brought him to the hospital, but he never regained consciousness. He died, Ross. They tried everything…”
The phone slipped from my hand.
Present Day
I awoke, as always when I dreamed of that day, shaking and covered in sweat, my face streaked with tears. I turned over to see a motionless figure lying next to me, covered by the comforter. My chicken-farmer neighbor, Garrett, had proved to be more welcoming than I ever expected.
I threw off the covers and hit the bathroom, desperately needing to pee. As I emptied my bladder, I stared at myself in the mirror. What the hell was I going to do with the rest of my life? I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and wandered through the darkened cabin until I reached the screened-in back porch. I’d rented this house in the Adirondacks as a place to escape to, but I knew it wouldn’t help. The year after Dom’s death I’d wandered around the world, seen all the wonders, eaten all the foods, and slept with countless men. Anything to take away the pain of never seeing his face again. Never touching or kissing his lips. Never getting to tell him one more time that I loved him. That I believed in him and I was sorry.
Nothing worked.
I poured myself a brandy from the bar and lay down in one of the cushioned lounges, listening to the sounds of the dark. Three a.m. had become my natural wake-up time, and I sipped my drink, letting its burn permeate my blood.
Here I sat alone while a man slept in my bed, and I knew if I awakened him, he’d be happy to fuck me until I couldn’t move. My body could be satisfied, but my mind and heart remained numb and frozen, and I cursed myself for even trying.
What gave me the right to think I deserved happiness again? Dom had me pegged perfectly. I was a shit person, selfish and controlling. If I’d seen the signs of his unhappiness, he’d be with me today. If I’d agreed right away to postpone the vacations we’d planned, we’d be together. Instead, I had only the final bitterness between us playing round and round in my head, the part where he told me he wanted a break from being with me. He died with anger in his heart against me, not love.
“Ross?” The tall figure of my bed partner stood silhouetted against the inside door of the porch.
“Yeah. You can come over. Don’t be afraid.”
He entered, and I studied him. After ignoring me for months, he’d been forced to acknowledge my presence when one of his chickens ran into my yard. That was what my life had become—chasing a runaway fucking chicken. Once the little bastard had been cornered and captured, but not before some nasty pecks to my hand made me threaten him with a fryer and barbecue sauce, my hunky neighbor showed up at my door with an apology and a bottle of home-brewed moonshine.
Three hours later, he was in my bed with his dick in my ass. One kind of cock had led to another. Guess I owed the chicken an apology.
“Ain’t afraid. You looked like you’d rather be alone, is all.”
He sat in the chaise next to me. A light dusting of golden hair covered his beautifully sculpted torso. He’d put on his white briefs, and even only semi-erect, his cock bulged thick in its nice package. Foster might be on to something, picking a guy in his twenties. Garrett had the stamina of a racehorse.
But Foster was in love with Justin; Garrett was a way to pass the night.
“Maybe so, but now I’m here with you.” I set the brandy snifter on the table and gave him a slow smile. “What are you doing awake?”
He shifted, and his breathing grew heavy. My guess was, my chicken farmer was hoping for a repeat performance.
“Woke up and wondered where you were.”
“And here I am.” I trailed my fingers down his arm. “What would you like?”
His briefs stretched tight, and he adjusted himself. I’d told Foster I’d had the love of my life and all I was interested in was lust, but that was only partly true. It wasn’t all I was interested in. I slipped my hand inside Garrett’s underwear and grabbed the thick shaft, listening to his sighs of pleasure as I stroked him to full, delicious hardness. He came fast on a loud groan, his hot come spilling through my fingers.
I missed intimacy and closeness with a partner I cared about. I missed nights spent wrapped around that person, listening to their heartbeat against my chest. I missed kisses so deep and passionate, I couldn’t tell where our breaths separated. I spent my life knowing I was never going to find what I once had, and that scared the shit out of me. Foster was right. I did run away up here. I was running from memories and a life I no longer knew how to live.
I wiped my hands on some napkins and picked up my drink. As I sipped, my eyes caught the glow of a light flickering in the dark. “What the heck is that?” I stood and peered into the darkness. “Someone walking around in the middle of the night?” A bit nervous, I stepped back and hit Garrett’s broad chest.
“Guess he can’t sleep neither. Another city guy, I heard Cora mention. He’s rented the place next to yours.”
Cora ran the general store and her mouth. I said my hellos and good-byes when I went to pick up my milk and the stuff I didn’t feel like driving miles out of my way to get, but I wouldn’t tell her anything I didn’t want everyone in the entire Northeast to hear.
“Oh? You know anything about him?”
“He keeps to himself and don’t speak to anybody. About your age, I think.” Garrett slipped his hands around my waist to fondle me, and I stiffened under his rough hands. “Forget about him.”
Much as I wanted to fall into Garrett’s touch, I had to be up-front. “I’m not looking for a relationship or even to date.”
Garrett wrapped his hand around my now-aching cock and began to jerk me off. “You don’t gotta worry. Just blowing off some steam here.”
That settled, I leaned back into his arms and let my body take over while I watched the lights in the house behind the trees.
Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner. Her characters have to work for it, because just like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love.
Felice is the 2020 Lambda Literary Award winning author in best Gay Romance. She lives in New York City and has way too much black in her wardrobe. If she's not writing, you'll probably find her watching reality TV or procrastinating on FB in her reader group, Felice's Breakfast Club.
EMAIL: felice@felicestevens.com
Broken Silence #1
Imitation of Life #2
Running from My Heart #3
Series
