Something Like Lightning (45 page)

Kelly glanced up. Marcello nodded cordially and turned his attention to one of the potted plants, looking as innocent as a cherub.

Nathaniel returned with a bottle and got settled on the couch again. As he did so, Kelly imagined long waits at the airport together before even longer flights, where the only entertainment they had was each other’s company.

“It’s not like the University of Texas won’t be there when I get back,” Kelly said.

“Even if struck by a meteor,” Marcello said casually, “there are plenty more like it.”

“With that in mind—”

“You don’t want to think about it?” Nathaniel asked.

Kelly took one look at him and, for once, had no doubts about what he desired. He leaned forward, took his glass, and held it up.

“Here’s to knowing what you want and getting it.”

“I believe I have that tattooed somewhere,” Marcello said, reaching for his own glass.

Nathaniel considered them both and shook his head. Then he gave in and joined their toast, Kelly’s gaze wandering longingly to the muscles of Nathaniel’s neck as golden bubbles poured down his throat.

Ah, Paris, the city of love! Or was that Venice? Or Dublin, or even that small town in Utah, which was little more than a gas station and a Dairy Queen? Regardless of where his career took them, travelling together worked wonders for Kelly’s relationship with Nathaniel. Not that he dared call it that, even six months deep.

When in Austin, they conducted themselves in a specific manner. At work they were complete professionals. After hours they would often while away their time like good friends. But the tension would build between them, culminating in mind-blowing nights, some of which left Kelly trembling. And overwhelmed with emotion that he didn’t express verbally. Even little gestures like sharing casual kisses or holding hands seemed forbidden.

But when they travelled, all these rules were tossed aside. Nathaniel would lovingly stroke the back of Kelly’s neck as they stood on the Pont des Arts and looked out over the river Seine, or kiss him playfully in a dark corner of an Irish pub. Only terms of endearment remained muzzled. No relationship titles, no silly pet names, and definitely not the ‘L’ word. But what their relationship lacked in spoken syllables, it compensated for with an emotional intensity Kelly had never known before. Crushes could be one-sided, but feelings like these had to be mutual, making it easier for them to remain unspoken.

Of course returning home again—like now—was always a bittersweet experience. Their physical affection for each other would be toned down, and that also meant their feelings would accumulate and explode again, like some sort of emotional orgasm.

“Is your brother picking us up?” Nathaniel asked, arms stretched behind him as their suitcases followed along faithfully.

“I can’t remember if I gave him the flight arrival times,” Kelly responded. “If not, we’ll take a taxi. My treat.”

“At least until we present Marcello with a list of business expenses.”

They chuckled together, stopping next to an airport newsstand so Kelly could dig out his phone. “No new texts. I’ll send him one real quick to ask if he’s coming.”

“Ask if Zero is okay,” Nathaniel said, sounding as close to whiney as he ever got.

“He was fine when you had me ask yesterday,” Kelly said, rolling his eyes playfully. “And the day before. The day before that you got a video of him scarfing down food.”

“Just ask,” Nathaniel pleaded.

Kelly glanced up while typing. A woman his mother’s age had stopped outside the store and was opening a Diet Coke. She was watching him as she did so, and when she offered a friendly smile, he returned the gesture. Then Kelly focused on finishing the text. When it was sent, he noticed she was still standing there looking at him.

“I have a son your age,” she said.

“Oh,” Kelly responded.

“He’s in the Marines.”

Oh geez! Not this again.

The woman came closer, eyes already watering as she put a hand on his shoulder. Kelly felt like running because this happened more often than he liked, especially when his hair was freshly buzzed.

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Thank you so much for your service to our country.”

Kelly never knew how to respond to this. He couldn’t accept her gratitude, since he didn’t deserve it, and calling her out would only make her feel stupid. Then again, maybe she had it coming, because it was awfully damn presumptuous of her. Young people could lose a leg to an accident or infection or diabetes or vascular damage. But no, she had this grand fantasy of him running across a field of landmines while waving an American flag.

“Best of luck to your son,” Kelly managed.

The woman patted him on the arm, misinterpreting his miserable expression. “Your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

“Great,” Nathaniel snapped. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to catch a flight to Washington and have dinner with the president.”

“Oh!” The woman clearly couldn’t tell if this was a joke or not, but at least she wandered away after giving Kelly a few more affectionate pats.

“That was beyond awkward,” Kelly said. “I’m going to start wearing long flowing dresses to hide my secret shame.”

“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about,” Nathaniel said, still fuming.

“It was a joke.”

Nathaniel glared. “Aren’t you sick of this?”

“Yes,” Kelly said. “Of course. What can I do about it? Become a scientist and develop a cure for stupidity?”

“You’ve got options.”

Kelly stared at him a moment. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not doing this for kicks. The leg is gone for good.”

Nathaniel continued to glower. “What about prosthetics?”

“You know I already tried that. We’ve talked about this. It was uncomfortable and—”

“—you gave up after a week. Or did you even make it that long?” Kelly felt his temper rising, but at least he didn’t have to hold back in this relationship. “Tell you what, genius, why don’t I saw your leg off above the knee and we’ll see just how cozy a fiberglass shell crammed halfway up your ass feels. Then you can lecture me all day long about—” “Shut up.”

“—about how easy it is to pop on a peg leg and prance around the room. And if you think I’m changing who I am because the occasional idiot mistakes me for a veteran, and because
you
think I’m incomplete, you can shove it up your—”

“Kelly! Shut. Up. Now!”

His mouth snapped shut and he resisted a smile, loving it when Nathaniel got so authoritative.

“When have I ever said you were incomplete, or treated you as if you were helpless or anything but perfect?”

Kelly thought about it and came up blank.

“News flash,” Nathaniel continued, “I want the best for you. If you were smoking, I’d be pressuring you to quit. If you started snorting white powder, or throwing your money away, or eating fast food three times a day, I would step forward and ask you to think about what’s best for you.

That’s all I’m doing right now. You tried once while in the throes of trauma. Maybe it’s worth another shot.”

“I’m fine how I am,” Kelly said. “Except for the occasional embarrassing assumption, I’m good.”

Nathaniel nodded. “In that case, pull your own luggage.”

That was his challenge? No problem. Sure, maybe it meant the luggage lurched along now instead of rolling smoothly, but Kelly could manage just fine, and he made sure to prove it.

“Good,” Nathaniel said, walking alongside him. “Now take out your phone and call your brother to see what’s going on.”

Kelly stopped to get at his phone.

Nathaniel kept walking. “Come on,” he said, “I don’t have all day. Let’s go.”

Kelly glared at him and kept moving forward. He pinned one crutch under an armpit, freeing a hand. This meant he had to hop, and with the luggage yanking on him and a hand in his pocket digging for his phone, he soon lost his balance and stumbled.

Nathaniel was there in an instant, grabbing him by the shoulders to support him. “What if you were on your own and about to miss your flight?” he asked. “Or worse, what if some crazy asshole is chasing after you and you need to call the police? Homophobes are cowards by nature, and if they perceive you as an easy target...”

Kelly was about to retort, but the wild fear in Nathaniel’s eyes stopped him cold. That’s what this was about. Nathaniel was worried for Kelly’s safety—that something might happen to him. The thought alone was enough to summon the panicked expression Nathaniel now wore.

In this moment, Kelly felt surer than ever that he was loved. “If anyone comes after me,” he said gently, “I’m probably faster on my crutches than I would be a on a fake leg.”

“It’s not just my stupid fears,” Nathaniel said, “and it’s not about how other people perceive you. I don’t know how to express it without it sounding trite, but there are times when I want to give the world to you. Everything good in life, I want you to have it. I think this might be one of those things.”

“Have you done your research?” Kelly said. “Prosthetic legs are like buying a car. Past the hefty price tag, there’s maintenance and repairs when things break, and even then it won’t last forever.”

“If money wasn’t an issue.” Nathaniel said.

“There’s not going to be a fake leg under the Christmas tree next week, is there?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I, and money is
always
an issue.”

“Just for the sake of argument, if it wasn’t, would you at least give it another try?”

“Yeah,” Kelly said, “but—”

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a familiar voice. Then a dog plowed into Nathaniel, nearly knocking him over. Soon Nathaniel was on his knees, rubbing Zero’s neck scruff affectionately. Kelly looked up to see Royal smiling apologetically as he trotted over to them. Jogging. Squatting. People sure took such things for granted. Watching them now, Kelly envied them both. He’d gone so long without the ease of such simple actions that he’d convinced himself he wasn’t missing anything.

Maybe it was time to see how much of that former life he could reclaim.

“Oh ho ho ho!”

The sound was reminiscent of a demented Santa, one who had partaken of a little too much eggnog. But the holiday season had come and gone months ago, and unless Mr. Claus had decided to vacation in Austin, someone else was downstairs. Kelly strained to listen as he finished tying his shoe. He heard his mother’s voice, then his father’s, before the laugh came again.

“Oh ho ho! Goodness me!”

The voice was familiar, but it couldn’t be. Not in his parents’ home. Kelly couldn’t imagine such a person in so ordinary an environment. He rolled off the bed and pushed himself into a standing position. The horrible prosthetic leg—the one William and Bonnie had once taken him to fetch—was back. Kelly had resolved to practice with it, even though the socket no longer fit properly. He had to add layers of socks to achieve a vacuum seal, which soon made his stump hot and sweaty, but he remained determined to do this. If not for himself, then for Nathaniel. Besides, later today he should be strutting around wearing something more comfortable.

Maybe not strutting, since Kelly was slower than ever, having to hold the stair rail with both hands and take each step one at a time. The laughter hadn’t stopped when he finally made it downstairs. There, in the dining room, sat a very large man. In one hand he held a photo, in the other he swirled a glass of apple juice as if it were champagne. Gathered around him like groupies were Kelly’s parents and brother.

“Marcello?” Kelly said in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the company of your magnificent family,” Marcello purred, waving the photo. “And discovering why you’re so resistant to the idea of nude photography.”

Kelly sighed, hobbling forward while glaring at his mother, her cheeks rosy with motherly love. Once close enough, he snatched away the photo from Marcello, barely glancing at it in confirmation. Sure enough, it was
the
photo. In it, Kelly was three years old and standing on a beach. At the time, his mother had recently given him a mohawk, making him look like Mr. T’s illegitimate child. The new style must have bolstered Kelly’s confidence, because his lips were puckered, his chest was puffed up, and his fists were placed firmly on his hips as he glared at the ocean. He resembled a wee king. Or an emperor with no clothes because Kelly was naked, and as proud as he appeared, there was little to see between his legs.
Very
little.

“It was cold outside!” Kelly harrumphed. “And I’ll have you know I’m all grown up now.”

“Kelly!” his mother chastised. Then she giggled. “Of course, if you take after your father, then I’m not surprised.”

He stared at her, aghast, before turning an accusatory glare at Marcello. “Debauchery follows you wherever you go.”

“It’s a gift,” Marcello said with a smile. He gestured to the other family photos on the table. “Such beautiful people,” he said to Kelly’s parents. “It’s no wonder your son is in such high demand. Why, I could probably book all of you as a group, an entire family of supermodels. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Laisha lit up at the compliment; his father looking proud. Royal chose this time to roll his eyes and wander off. Kelly set the photo facedown on the table. He was tempted to rip it up, but the last time he’d done so, his mother had used the negatives to have more copies made.

“Is everything okay?” Kelly asked. “Nathaniel was supposed to pick me up. Why are you here instead?”

“An apt question,” Marcello said. “Nathaniel was to bring you to your appointment, wasn’t he?”

“My prosthetist, yes. I need to get going.”

“And tomorrow you’re flying to Germany, aren’t you?”

“You know the answer to that,” Kelly said, feeling exasperated. “There’s a photo shoot in Berlin.”

“Good.” Marcello glanced over at Laisha. “Is he all packed?”

“He is.” She appeared strangely emotional, gesturing at her husband, who stood and fetched a large suitcase from the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Kelly asked.

“We’re sending you to live on a farm,” his father said with a wink. “I’m afraid you’re needed in Germany today,” Marcello said.