Faith and Fidelity (7 page)

“I guess we'll talk at some point. I'll ah, tell her the truth.”

“Which is?”

“I'll let you know as soon as I figure it out.”

As they crawled uptown following a snowplow, Helena suddenly asked, “Do I know this woman? You've never mentioned anyone before.”

Evan gripped the steering wheel. “Friend of Matt's— he introduced us.”

“Matt Haight? Oh yeah. He's cute. Hey, maybe you should give him my number.”

Concentrating on driving and avoiding Helena's eyes, Evan didn't bother to analyze the defensiveness that statement brought up.

Matt and the kids made hamburgers and mac'n'cheese for dinner. He thought kids needed to have vegetables with every meal— especially green ones— so he made spinach. Boiling water he could do. As the clock inched toward seven, Matt's anxiety built to the point of an explosion. His heart raced. The moment of truth, right? Evan would walk through the door and Matt prayed he'd be able to read his face, understand what he wanted him to do. Stay or get out. Those were the only two choices.

Evan sat in the car, parked in his newly clean driveway. He saw the snowman— was that his hat?— and light spilling out of the front window. He had to go inside and face Matt. And say something. Like...
I want something I can't have that you want to give me. I think. Maybe
. He wanted to turn back the clock to when it was just about shared misery and not shared... affection. Desire. Evan was good at misery. Caring about someone required a lot more work— and it was very dangerous. He just wished to hell he understood this thing they were creating between them and how he was going to look Matt in the eye when he got into the house. He got out of the car and walked slowly up to the front door.

Matt heard the key and held his breath. Facing the music began now.

The little kids ran over and gave their father an enthusiastic hello. Matt watched the hugs and kisses. Watched Evan lose the overcoat and gloves, his boots left on the mat. Miranda called out a hello and one of those “dinner's almost ready” lines that you heard in all the old television shows. Where was the Beav to break the tension when you needed him?

Eventually Evan couldn't avoid Matt's eyes, and he walked into the kitchen where Matt stood. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Thanks for spending the day— I really appreciate it.”

Matt shrugged, keeping his face neutral. “I had fun. Beats having to go into work. They didn't even open the office.”

“Wish I could say the same. We just sat there all day.”

Insert awkward pause here
, thought Matt. He didn't want to misread the moment, but Evan didn't seem to be hostile or showing him the door. Maybe, just maybe he wanted to forget the whole thing. Then this would be behind them.

Then Evan brushed past and touched Matt's forearm with his fingers for a long, lingering moment.

What the hell? A bolt struck Matt a hundred places at once. Brain, heart, groin. There was no mistaking that for an accident.

“What's for dinner?” Evan moved into the kitchen, his voice shaky as he picked up various pot lids. “Smells good.”

Matt was rooted to the spot. The kids had drifted into the living room and were sprawled all over, watching television. The sounds of Nickelodeon filled the house.

His back to the living room, Matt stared at Evan, willing him to turn around. He needed to see his face.

Sighing heavily— in defeat or acceptance, take your pick, Matt thought— Evan turned to face Matt. They stood for a long time, just staring, blue eyes on blue eyes. Silver on black. Both shivered with a weird sort of panic. Excitement. Utter terror. As it was from the beginning, neither said a word. They knew what the other was thinking.

Matt wasn't leaving. Evan wanted him to stay.

They let the kids do the talking through dinner, through the rest of the evening. All the outdoor activity took its toll and the little ones put up no protest when bedtime was announced at eight thirty. Miranda asked for permission to use the phone for awhile. Evan absently said yes— thinking he'd be paying for it later— and she disappeared with the cordless upstairs. Kathleen tried to keep her eyes open best she could but by nine she was a goner.

Yes, folks. The moment we've been waiting for and dreading for hours now.

They let the silence sit between them for almost thirty minutes. They listened to the dishwasher and the drone of a sitcom from the television set.

Matt finally couldn't stand it a second longer. “Evan.”

“Yeah?” So soft, so far away. He sat on the couch, Matt a few feet away in the armchair.

“We need to talk about what happened.”

“I know.”

“I'm sorry I stepped over the line. When I heard you having that nightmare, I just kind of slipped into automatic pilot. I wasn't trying to... do... anything.”

Evan said nothing. Matt flickered his glance over his friend. He stared straight ahead, eyes unseeing, face shuttered. He'd changed into a gray T-shirt— nice view of the tattoo, thank you very much— and black sweatpants when he got home, and somehow this was pushing Matt closer to the edge. An overwhelming wave of desire buffeted against forty-two years of machismo and a once solid understanding of who he was.

“I don't want to fuck this friendship up, Evan.”

“It's okay. I told you... I didn't mind. I just don't want to lead you on. I had no idea... ”

“Man,
you
don't understand it? It's my fucking head and
I
don't understand it.”

That made Evan turn to look at him. “You mean... I assumed you were bisexual.”

Taken aback, Matt shook his head. “No.”

“Then what?”

Matt pinned Evan down with a stare. “My whole fucking life just got turned upside down, that's what fucking happened. I've spent the past twenty-eight years trying to fuck women, and now I'm having a hard-on for a guy.”

Oh shit. That just flew out of his mouth and he'd have given anything to take it back. Stunned silence. Evan looked like the proverbial deer in headlights. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“'Cause, uh, we're straight? I didn't think of us in those terms.”

“Us?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I swear to God I don't.”

“Listen, Evan. I don't know what to tell you.” Matt pulled himself out of the chair. He couldn't do this. “I'm leaving.”

“Why?”

“Why?! Why do you think? I'm embarrassed and I'm freaked out okay? I don't know how the fuck to handle this.”

He moved past the couch to get his shoes.

“Don't.”

Matt kept moving. He tried not to hear anything but the blood pounding in his ears. This was getting dangerous.

“Don't leave, Matt.” Emotion was finally starting to creep into Evan's voice. “I asked you not to leave last night and you stayed.”

“Fuck this. I can't do this.” Matt kept murmuring over and over. “We can't do this.” He stared at his shoes, feeling helpless and terrified. Exposed. Needing something this badly... it was too dangerous.

He sensed Evan standing over him but he couldn't look up.

“Don't.”

He felt the hand touch the side of his face.

“I want you to stay.”

He shivered as fingers stroked his jaw.

“And do what?”

“I'm not exactly sure... Can we take it slow? I don't want you to think I'm easy.”

Matt had to laugh. Just had to. He reached up and tentatively took Evan's hand. Stood up so they were standing an inch apart.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Evan was shaking. The bravado in his voice— utter bullshit. He wanted to feel the comfort of the previous night, but he had no idea what would happen when he did.

Thank God Matt took the bull by the horns, so to speak.

Matt let his hands travel the same path as last night. Up the arms, the shoulders, the collarbone under the soft T-shirt. The strong neck, felt the corded muscles, the ragged breaths. He let his eyes scan Evan's face— hard planes and pale skin. His eyes were closed. He trembled.

Matt let out a shudder. His mouth hurt from denial.
Just do it, Matty
, something inside him whispered.
He doesn't want you to stop.

So he did what he'd felt like doing for weeks. Pressed his mouth against Evan's.

Live wires connected. Just a simple pressing together of flesh, but the jolts shook them both to the core.

Matt pressed harder. Pressed his tongue forward, pressed his body forward.

Evan took the pressure and offered the resistance to keep them both upright. Oh God, it felt so good to have someone touching him. To have Matt touching him like this. His mind skittered over Sherri's face, but he was able to put it away for now because this felt so different. The rough skin and the slim lips. The hardness pushed against his thigh. A moan was building from deep within him and he opened his mouth out of pure reflex.

And Matt pressed harder still. He flicked his tongue into Evan's mouth on autopilot. He felt the strength of Evan's body, the automatic grind of his hips as they used their mouths to explore. He pressed their bodies together and thrilled inwardly when he felt Evan's arms tighten around his middle.

Tenderly, Evan moved his hands up and down Matt's strong, solid back. He shut his internal critics and moral monitors off. He let himself feel each surge of desire, every stroke of Matt's tongue. So strange, so erotic. A body like his own— but stronger, bigger. The large but gentle hands cupping his face, stroking his hair. He started to grind against the older man, quickly losing control.

Oh God. Too much. Shaking, Matt stilled Evan's hips with his own. It had been a long time for both of them— they were both wound tight. Matt pushed Evan away slightly.

Suddenly realizing his actions, Evan flushed bright red. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “Oh Christ. My kids... ”

“Yeah. Let's slow down.”

Evan moved away from Matt, shaking and trying to pull himself together. He sat down on the edge of the sofa, his elbows on his knees, breathing heavily. He felt the cushions dip— Matt sat down next to him.

“Ever had this happen before?”

“Make out with another guy— uh no. You?”

Evan snorted. “I've only kissed one other person in my whole life, Matt.”

“It just happened, man. I wasn't thinking about it, wasn't expecting it. One day I woke up and realized this was more than just... being your friend.”

Evan nodded. “I knew I felt comfortable with you. But I didn't understand the— possibility— until last night.”

“I'm forty-two years old and I never even considered— ” He broke off, shaking his head. “Never considered that I'd be kissing a man and feeling... this.”

“Tell me something. Are you still attracted to women?”

“I'd jump on your partner in a New York minute. Does this make me fashionably bisexual?”

They laughed together quietly, not touching, not looking at one another. “What the hell are we going to do about this, Matt?”

“I haven't the faintest fucking idea.”

They sat together on the couch, side by side, in drowsy silence, listening to the house settle. Matt didn't know what else there was to say. At one point there was movement upstairs— Miranda getting ready for bed— and they moved farther away from each other, to a more respectable distance. A few moments later Evan's eyes drifted shut. Matt watched hungrily until he forced himself to check the clock on the wall. Shit. It was nearly eleven and he hadn't been home since yesterday morning. Thank God he didn't have any pets.

He stood up carefully as not to wake the other man and quietly collected his things, put on his shoes and coat. He went to the computer desk in the corner and wrote a note for Evan, leaving it on the coffee table where he would see it when he woke up. Tenderly picking up a blanket thrown over the easy chair and laying it over him. At least he was finally getting a little sleep.

Matt had to leave, had to go back to his real world. He walked to the door, concern niggling in the back of his head. Walking outside would break the little cocoon they had created. Hopefully in the light of day, this... thing... between them wouldn't evaporate.

Standing in the doorway he cast a look back toward Evan. Man, did he look good lying there under the blanket... leaning against the back of the couch, head resting on an out flung arm. He looked... mmm, warm and inviting; Matt thanked God the cold air was bracing because heat flushed through his body as he turned and went to his car. Before he did something stupid like wake Evan up and get him out of his clothes. Not that he knew exactly what he'd do after that. He shivered as he sat in the car, waiting for it to warm up.

There's no way I'm sleeping anytime soon with the feeling of him on my skin and, woo boy, in my mouth. I've never been so fucking scared in my whole entire life. This is a man and I want him and I think maybe I lo... Nope, not going there, and oh shit, what the hell am I supposed to do now?

He banged his head on the steering wheel. That felt a little bit better. Putting the car in reverse, he eased out of the Cerellis’ driveway.

Evan opened his eyes once he knew Matt was gone. He was ashamed of himself for feigning sleep, but it was the only way he knew to end this evening without having to answer any more questions. The note on the coffee table caught his eye and he sat up to read it.

Evan,

Didn't want to wake you.

We need to talk.

When can you meet at O'Malley's?

Call me at home tomorrow night.

Matt

Stuffing the note in the pocket of his sweats, Evan got up to shut all the lights and then crawled back onto the couch. His skin ached and his head pounded with endless internal conversations about love, about sex and lust, about sexual preference, and about what responsibilities Evan was jeopardizing by even contemplating this relationship. He lay there, idly wondering if he really was catching the scent of Matt's skin from the cushions or if it had just burned into his brain.