Every Breath You Take Page 2

  Zachary liked to sing, and he wished for the nerve to step up to the piano and join in, but he went for silent observer instead. The drink in his hand helped his nerves as he sipped, and he gradually relaxed against the wall and began to sing along quietly. He was enjoying it all, even though—or maybe because—it was so removed from the images of decadence he had built up in his head. No doubt they were placed there by his parents’ diatribes on godless homosexuals.

  “Excuse me, dear heart, but are you here alone?” Zachary turned to find the white-haired man from the bar standing next to him. In a soft voice with a Boston accent, the man said, “If you are alone, come join us. Really. Come join us. Lord knows there’re enough people against us as it is,” the little man lamented as he stretched out his hand. “Come along.” Zachary smiled and took it. Then he let the man lead him to the bar.

  As they crossed the room, the stranger said, “My name is Joe Mulholland. Now tell me, darling boy, do you live here or are you just visiting?”

  Too late Zachary realized they were joining the most handsome man in the world, and he felt his breath catch. He was distracted for a moment but made himself focus on Joe’s question. “Oh, um… I just moved here. I started a new job on Monday with the Treasury Department. I’m Zachary, by the way.”

  “What a delightful name. Now,” Joe said as they reached the bar, “allow me to introduce my husband, Terry. Terry, this is Zachary, and he has just moved to Washington,” Joe said with a lilt in his voice.

  The brown-haired man held out his hand and Zachary shook it. “Welcome. I see my Joe has collected you, but I assure you he’s harmless as a box of kittens.” Terry had a slightly rounded and soft look to him, but mischievous brown eyes and a wide smile suggested he was a real looker in his youth.

  Zachary chuckled. “I was happy to be collected. Thank you for coming over, Joe.”

  Joe smiled at him, and his eyes twinkled in the light. “I just hate to see anyone standing by themselves. Now, Thomas, this is Zachary,” he said, and he turned to introduce the handsome man, who smiled, stood up, and reached out a hand to shake.

  “Good to meet you, Zachary. I’m Thomas Scarborough. Do you need a fresh drink?”

  The hand in Zachary’s felt like it was burning his fingers because Zachary was so aware of it, and he held on longer than necessary.

  What I need is an oxygen machine.

  Thomas was a few inches shorter than him, but face-on and standing less than two feet away, he was even better looking than he appeared from the other end of the bar. Zachary made himself say calmly as he released his grip, “That’s very nice of you. Thanks.”

  Thomas turned his head and called, “Randy.” When the big bartender looked up, Thomas twirled a finger in the air to signal a full round. Randy nodded, and then Thomas turned back and rested an elbow on the bar. He met Zachary’s eyes with his clear gaze and asked, “So, Zachary, where did you live before DC?”

  “I’m from Ogden, Utah. This is the first time I’ve lived anywhere else.”

  Joe exclaimed, “How interesting. Thomas, I recall you ski in Park City. That’s in Utah as well, isn’t it? Now, Zachary, it’s perhaps indelicate, but are you a Mormon?”

  Terry laughed. “I doubt he’d be drinking in a gay bar if he were.”

  Joe scolded, “Oh shush, spouse. Perhaps Zachary is drinking pop.”

  Zachary smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m not Mormon, though I grew up on the edge of a huge Mormon community. Talk about feeling like an outsider.”

  Randy arrived with their round of drinks and passed Zachary’s to him. He had brought a shot for himself, and he raised it to Thomas and tossed it back. Thomas’s blue eyes met Zachary’s gaze again as they clinked glasses, and Zachary nearly melted under that intense regard. The blue reminded him of a summer night just as twilight set in.

  “Welcome to DC,” Thomas said in a toast. “I hope you’ll enjoy it here.”

  “And I’m just sure you will,” Joe enthused. “I have a sense for these things, dear heart, and I think you’ve found a home.”

  “Joe, you’ve certainly made me feel at home,” Zachary said, and he noticed Thomas give a pleased smile. “Can I ask, what do all of you do?”

  Terry answered, “I’m an accountant, and my husband here is a retired school teacher turned do-gooder. Well, he was a monk first, then a school teacher.”

  Zachary had to laugh. “A monk? Really?”

  Joe spread his hands beatifically and tilted his head up slightly. “The halo may be slightly tarnished, but yes, I was once a member of the Franciscan order.”

  Terry chortled, “He had to leave, though, because he couldn’t stick to the vows.”

  Zachary felt embarrassed. “Umm… you mean the vow of chastity…?”

  Terry shook his head. “No, he managed that one quite well. The problem was they expected him to honor a vow of silence.”

  Joe swatted at his arm. “Now you’re just making fun of me. But Zachary, it’s true. They put me in a simply untenable position. I was secretary to the abbot. I had all this gossip to share, but instead they expected me to keep my mouth shut and ruminate on the sufferings of the world. I was fairly bursting. I’m sure it would have given me an ulcer if I had stayed.”

  Zachary laughed delightedly at the story. “It was self-preservation, of course, Joe. You had no choice but to leave.”

  “You understand me perfectly. I took as my personal credo that old prayer of ‘from your mouth to gay ears.’”

  Thomas smiled broadly and said, “I always thought that was ‘to God’s ear,’ but I like yours better.”

  Joe reached up and patted Zachary’s shoulder. “We had a little community of brothers in brown robes with lavender undergarments, if you’ll permit the metaphor. I felt it was my sacred duty to keep my sister brothers informed of the doings in the head office. You know, my dear,” Joe said seriously, though his eyes glinted, “before this Internet whatnot, there used to be just three ways to spread the gay news.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Telephone. Telegraph. Tell-a-queen.”

  That made Zachary laugh even harder, and Thomas and Terry as well.

  “So what made you leave the order?” Zachary finally asked.

  “Well, I’m ashamed to tell you that the bishop caught me listening in to a phone call with the abbot. When he mentioned replacing Sister Mary-Margaret O’Hurley as the principal of the high school, I gasped. Well, she’d been there since I was a boy. The bishop was incensed, the abbot was mortified, and it was suggested my true vocation might be as a telephone operator.”

  Terry put his arm around Joe and kissed the side of his white hair. “I love the image of you sitting at a switchboard, listening in on all the calls.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Darling, I may be a tiny bit older than you—all right, several years older than you—but party lines and switchboards predate even me.” He winked at Zachary. “Person-to-person was quite the thing in the seventies in Boston, may I tell you.”

  Terry chuckled. “You see how it is. I wanted to be the comedian in the family, but he turns me into a straight man every time.”

  “Well, maybe not ‘straight’ man,” Thomas murmured and gave a slight smile. Zachary tried not to notice how soft and generous that smile looked on his lips, but he had trouble pulling his eyes away.

  With mock indignation, Terry replied, “Oh sure, Tommy, now you get in on the act too.”

  As the laughter calmed a bit, Zachary began to feel his second drink easing his nerves and got up the courage to ask, “How about you, Thomas? What do you do?”

  Thomas crooked his head a bit and smiled at Zachary. “I’m the chief counsel to the Senate Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs.” At the blank look on Zachary’s face, he burst out laughing. “Exactly. Even when I tell them, people have no idea what I do.”

  Terry said, “He’s the shit, is what he is. Tommy’s involved in major legislation initiatives all around the country. Banking reform, ho
meland security, you name it, Thomas’s office is involved.”

  “Oh. That sounds like an incredibly important job,” Zachary said, immediately hating his lame response.

  Joe reached up and put his hands on both of Thomas’s cheeks and said, “It is important, and you can’t, you simply can’t imagine all that this lovely man accomplishes with housing for the poor, along with all his other projects. Perhaps he should have taken holy orders.”

  Thomas looked a bit embarrassed. “Aw, c’mon, Joe. It’s a political job, and I’m just another hack,” he said. “Nothing like the day-to-day impact you have at the shelter.” He leaned down and kissed Joe’s forehead, then said to Zachary, “Joe here runs a shelter for homeless LGBT youth. It’s called Rainbow Space.”

  “You’re kidding,” Zachary exclaimed. “Do you need any volunteers, Joe?”

  “Always, dear heart. Would you really be interested?”

  “Oh, absolutely. In Ogden I worked at a soup kitchen on weekends, and it broke my heart to see how many kids came in. Too many of them had been kicked out because they were gay or transgender.”

  Sorrow and loss flashed across Thomas’s face and were gone almost immediately, replaced with his brilliant smile as he asked about the soup kitchen. Zachary couldn’t help but wonder what brought sadness to those beautiful blue eyes.

  Chapter 2

  THEY CONTINUED to talk late into the evening at Mata Hari, and Zachary took a moment to send grateful thoughts to Fred, still in Ogden, who had dared him to try a real bar. There he was, as green as could be but talking to an outrageously lovable ex-monk, his sweet and funny husband, and a man whose good looks, style, obvious smarts, and accomplishments had Zachary crushing on him.

  No doubt Thomas could take home anyone he wanted—could and probably had. As a new boy in town with less experience in gay life than a rutabaga, Zachary probably held as much attraction for Thomas as a McDonald’s Happy Meal. He refused to let that thought ruin his evening, though. He was having the time of his life.

  The sense of transgressing against his parents bothered him then, but he refused to let Jerry and Martha Hall ruin the beginning to his new life any more than he would let his own self-doubt hold him back.

  They don’t know where I am or what I’m doing. And they don’t need to know.

  Randy served them another round eventually and then stayed to chat a bit with Thomas and Zachary while Joe and Terry talked with some other friends who had come into the bar. “So welcome to DC,” Randy said to Zachary. “How’d you find my place?”

  That was another pleasant surprise. “You own Mata Hari, Randy? It’s great.” The bartender gave a slight grin—not a full-on smile—but it helped Zachary’s confidence, so he answered, “I went looking around on Yelp, and you’re getting great reviews.”

  “Good to know. I used to be around some crazy press madness, but I’m crap at the online media-presence bullshit, myself. I’ve been thinking about getting a publicist or something.” The bartender looked around the bar and said, “Off to a good start, though.”

  “You did great, Randy,” Thomas said. “I’m really proud of you.”

  That earned a lopsided grin from Randy. “Well, it was time for a change, and I always wanted to own a bar. Thank God some investor was dumb enough to trust me with his money.”

  Thomas shook his head almost imperceptibly at Randy, but Zachary caught it. All he said, though, was, “Good crowd, good reviews, great setting. I don’t know anything about running a bar, but I’d bet you’re going to be a hit.”

  Randy rapped his knuckles on the bar twice. “Knock on wood,” he said, and then he excused himself to serve some new arrivals. That left Zachary alone with Thomas, and suddenly his heart pounded again. He was terrified he would blurt out something idiotic.

  “Thank you for talking to me,” he indeed blurted out. Then he dropped his head to his chest. “Shit. I just swore to myself that I wouldn’t say anything stupid.”

  Thomas smiled at him but didn’t laugh. “Hey, I get it. A strange city, a new bar. It can be intimidating, so I’m glad you took a chance on us. You’re fun to hang out with.”

  Zachary looked up and was surprised to find Thomas staring right back at him. There was interest in that gaze and some heat. That couldn’t be right. What could Thomas see in Zachary? It had to be his imagination. He swallowed and said, “I wish I had Joe’s guts to just walk up to a stranger in a bar and start a conversation.”

  “Hmm. I’m going to guess you don’t go to a lot of bars?”

  “Honestly? This is the first gay bar I’ve ever been to.”

  Thomas was clearly surprised. “Are you a…,” he began, but Zachary blushed.

  “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you were going to ask.” Just in case he hadn’t imagined the interest in Thomas’s eyes, he didn’t want to scare the man off. “I had gay friends in college, and we’d fool around. A couple of us stayed ‘friends with benefits’ afterward, but with the economy and the job market, we all ended up moving back in with our parents, so there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to, umm, benefit. Plus there’re really only a few small dive bars in Ogden, and frankly, umm… I didn’t….”

  “You didn’t want to be seen going in there?” Thomas guessed.

  Zachary was ashamed for a moment, but Thomas’s voice was kind, so he nodded. “Right. My parents are really narrow-minded and controlling. They didn’t like my hobbies, my friends…. Telling them I’m gay would have topped the list of my failings. Every time there was a news story about a Pride rally or gay marriage, they’d rant to each other like it meant the end of civilization. I’m not proud of this, but I was afraid to be open to them. I knew I wouldn’t be able to let them spew that shit at me, so it was easier to live in the closet until I got away.”

  He flicked a glance at Thomas, sure he’d find pity or scorn in his face, and was surprised to find sympathy instead. “I guess that’s weak sauce, huh?”

  “I understand, Zachary. My parents weren’t there for me when I really needed them a few years ago, and they said some awful things. Luckily I was in a position to move away, but I can guess what it must have been like. Afraid that you’d lose your home.”

  Zachary nodded. Maybe Thomas wouldn’t despise him for his lack of spine. “Exactly. I told you about the soup kitchen where I volunteered. I was so afraid I’d end up there if I came out.”

  “I have a feeling you’re stronger and more capable than you give yourself credit for, Zachary. Look at you. You’ve just started a new job in a new city and made new friends already.” Thomas bumped his glass against Zachary’s in a toast. “At least I hope we’ll all be friends.”

  Zachary stood up straight and squared his shoulders, unreasonably happy at Thomas’s words. “I hope so too. All of you are so kind, taking in a stray like me tonight.” He turned so he and Thomas stood shoulder to shoulder with their backs against the bar, and looked out across the room. Joe and Terry were talking with the piano player.

  Zachary and Thomas were comfortably silent for a moment, and then Zachary said, “It turns out I should have just left Ogden earlier, rather than worry about making the kind of life I want there.” He took the last swallow of his drink and set it on the bar. “Anyway, I might be starting late, but at least I’m starting. Is that lame?”

  Thomas shook his head. “Not at all. Hell, you get the chance to be a kid in the candy store. DC is a great city when you’re young. There are lots of fun bars and clubs and things to do and people to meet. A good-looking man like you will do great here.”

  Good-looking? Me?

  Aloud Zachary said, “I’m really going to try to put myself out there. Of course it helps that I’ve had three drinks, which is way more than I normally drink at parties, so with that courage in my veins, can I ask you something that really is undeniably lame?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can I take a picture with you?”

  Thomas guffawed but nicely.

  “I know it�
�s immature, but my friend Fred back home didn’t believe I’d actually go out to a bar alone. The fact that I’m not only in a bar but talking to the most handsome man in the bar is something he needs to see. And oh my God, I’m so embarrassed I just said all that out loud.”

  “Give me your phone,” Thomas said and crooked his fingers. When Zachary complied, Thomas waved Randy over. “Randy, would you do us a favor and take our picture?”

  Randy gave Thomas the side-eye but shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  Thomas turned Zachary to face the bar and put his arm around Zachary’s waist to pull them together. Randy snapped the photo and handed the phone back to Zachary, who immediately swiped open the picture. There they were—his boring sandy hair and brown eyes leaning toward Thomas’s model-gorgeous head as his beautiful smile stretched his full lips in the picture. A few bar patrons and the piano were visible behind them. Zachary immediately messaged it to Fred and typed:

  If they could see me now! You owe me ten bucks.

  Thomas looked over Zachary’s shoulder as he typed, and he chuckled at the message. Zachary was surprised Thomas didn’t remove the hand on his waist and even more surprised when Thomas slightly leaned in to him. His body felt strong and warm against Zachary’s side and his cologne smelled of spice and citrus. Zachary was uncomfortably aware of his dick thickening up in his underwear as it remembered how long it had been since he’d had sex.

  Zachary happened to glance at the watch on Thomas’s other hand—the one not making him nervous and excited as it rested on his waist—and exclaimed, “Is that a Breitling?”