“My first full day as the new man in the old life,” Tierney said. “Guess I survived.”
“It’ll probably be the first of many firsts.”
“Yeah,” Tierney agreed, locking gazes with him, the air around them suddenly charged with tension. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed, or been with who I knew. Like, your name.”
Dalton lifted his head off the pillow. “So, you’re saying . . .”
“I’m a thirty-four-year-old virgin.”
Dalton could see why admitting that might be uncomfortable for Tierney, but something in his expression radiated acceptance of the situation. Dalton settled his head back down. “You’ve been with women, right?”
One side of Tierney’s mouth curved up. “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t really seem like it counts anymore.”
“I’ve never been with a woman,” he offered.
Tierney took a breath, holding it for a second. “Your first time, it wasn’t that guy was it? The one you moved in with after getting kicked out.”
“No, it was my high school boyfriend, thank God.” Dalton rolled onto his back, because it was easier to face the ceiling than his bed partner.
“Thank God?”
“Well, just, if he’d been my first . . .” He ran a hand through his bangs, letting them fall back on the pillow while he inspected the paint job for answers. If Hugh had been his first, it would be as if he’d sold his virginity to the highest bidder.
“I get it,” Tierney said after a few moments.
He probably did. Dalton shifted until he faced him again.
“Maybe I’ll have a first boyfriend, some day,” Tierney said in a low voice.
“I’m sure you will.” The thought made his heart pound harder, but he forced his mind away from danger, and simply hoped Tierney had a better first boyfriend than he’d had. “My first relationship was how my parents found out I’m gay. My mom walked into my room while we were making out.”
Tierney scooted closer to him. “Sorry I brought it up. We don’t have to talk about—”
“I want to.” For the first time, he thought someone might truly understand. Not be sickened and angry like Andrea, or titillated like Sam. “My family coddled me. I was the youngest and everyone gave me everything I wanted, but when my parents found out I was gay, I went from being this pampered kid who wasn’t ready for the real world to a kid who was completely on his own. I didn’t know what to do.” He shrugged one shoulder. “And I was mad. I wanted to hurt them back, so I sort of . . . whored around awhile.” He took a deep breath. “I needed to be needed, so I went from guy to guy for almost four years, and eventually, I went into each relationship knowing it was actually an arrangement.” He smiled, totally inappropriately, but it was one of those uncontrollable, nervous reactions. “There’s a whole group of guys who do that, you know. Stay in the closet but have boys stashed away on the side.”
Tierney huffed softly. “I guess I could have been a guy like that instead of coming out.” He locked gazes with Dalton. “Except I don’t think I could have done it.”
“It’s a lot of deceit.” So much so that his stomach roiled remembering it. “Some guys are okay with that, and I can see why they’d need to, or feel they need to, but I just couldn’t do it. Not after a while.”
“Yeah, the most sneaking around I could handle were glory holes.”
Dalton’s laugh felt appropriate this time, thank God.
Tierney chuckled along with him but then went serious again. “It’s weird, you know? I was totally the type of guy you’d expect that out of, stashing some secret piece on the side, but I just couldn’t—like, I didn’t even consider it. I don’t know why.”
“I know why,” Dalton said. “You were horrible at pretending to be straight because you’re horrible at lying to yourself. Having a whole hidden relationship doesn’t seem like something you could stomach.”
“I guess.” Tierney sighed. “Doesn’t explain how I do my job, but . . .” He gazed at Dalton a long moment. “I kind of think you’re right about me.”
Moments like this, silent communication running between them, intensified Dalton’s attraction to Tierney so much. He’d never had this with anyone, and he liked it.
Tierney scraped his teeth across his lip a couple times before asking, “Why did you stop? I mean, stop finding sugar daddies.”
This part. He’d never told anyone about it, but maybe he should. If he spit it out, it would be like lancing a boil. Not as gross, but as painful. “I found out my last keeper had a girlfriend.”
Tierney’s eyebrows flew up.
“I thought she was his beard. The woman he took to functions when he had to have a date, but she thought she was his fiancée.” He squeezed his temples with his thumb and finger. “She—Vanessa—found out about me and came to the door screaming one day. It was like she’d thrown ice water all over my life, and I could see what I’d become clearly for the first time. It all seemed so tawdry.” It still did. “I didn’t want to be that guy.”
Tierney shifted. “So you just left?”
“Yeah.” He sat up in bed, feeling a little nauseous now. “I say they needed me, and they did need someone, but none of them wanted me. I was interchangeable. Any reliable piece of ass would do.”
“Jesus.” Tierney sat next to him, gripping Dalton’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up about this. You realized you needed to change things a long time before I did. What were you? Less than twenty-five, right?”
“Twenty-two.” He nodded. “I was twenty-two before I started to grow up and stopped trying to find someone to take care of me.”
“That’s young. I mean really,” he said when Dalton just looked at him. “Most people don’t figure their shit out for years, and I’m not talking about only me; lots of people don’t deal with their reality. It’s impressive that you did so young.”
“Maybe,” Dalton said. God, his muscles felt weak. “So much for my revenge on my parents.” He turned away, sitting on the edge of the mattress, not sure what to say now. The bed shook under his butt, and suddenly he felt warmth on his back, then Tierney’s arms came around him, trapping Dalton’s own against his torso in a tight squeeze before loosening. But not letting go.