Page 3 of Bean
I hated that Nash always called us out on our crap. In the long run, it was for the better, but that didn’t mean I had to like it now. “I don’t even get to play the sympathy card a little?”
“Not with me. Life sucks, kid. Get used to it.”
That, in a nutshell, was Nash for ya. I sighed. “You know sex is complicated for me, especially with other men. There’s still a lot of guilt involved.”
Nash put his hand on mine. “I know, but the only way to push through that is by doing it. And yes, in this case, ‘it’ refers to sex.”
“Just do it, huh?”
He nodded, then let go of my hand. “Yup, just do it. Find a guy, rip off the Band-Aid, check that off in your little book.”
“I don’t actually have ‘experimenting with guys’ on my to-do list, you know.”
“No? Then you should put it on there. Sex is not something to feel ashamed about, Bean. It’s a natural need, something most of us feel. And if it’s between two or more consenting adults, there’s nothing wrong with it, no matter what you were taught.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Two or more? You trying to get me to do a threesome now?”
He laughed. “I’d pay good money to see that. Well, figuratively, since you’re like a little brother to me and I have zero desire to see you naked. No offense.”
“None taken, trust me.” I waved my hand at his face. “I can see how others would be attracted to you, with that whole silver-fox thing you’ve got going, but it’s not doing it for me.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“I don’t know how to navigate casual sex to begin with, let alone with a guy,” I said softly. “What if I pick the wrong guy? What if I end up getting hurt?”
Nash leaned forward, his eyes drilling into mine. “You’re not some helpless virgin, kid. You’re a soldier with ten years of combat experience. You can kick anyone’s ass if necessary. Butmore importantly, trust your gut. You have great instincts. And if you really want that second opinion, I’m here for you. You know that.”
My eyes lit up. “You wanna go through Grindr with me? I already installed it.”
Nash groaned. “I’m gonna regret that offer, aren’t I?”
CHAPTER TWO
JAREK
”Stay calm. Nothing’s changed. You haven’t seen each other in fifteen months. The only difference is the paperwork.” My pep talk wasn’t exactly working. I’d deluded myself into thinking divorcing Gio would be easy. That it would be simple.
That I wouldn’t feel anything because it was a long time coming and we’d been split for a damn long while, so what did it matter? No one warned me I would feel like a big, fat failure walking out of the courthouse, officially single, with the document I needed to reclaim my last name.
It didn’t matter that Gio had only agreed to marry me because he wanted a wedding. Or that he’d been cheating on me for the last three years of our marriage, usually in our bed when I was working late.
It didn’t matter that a month before I filed, he’d sent a guy to our house to seduce me in hopes I’d give in to his request to re-open our marriage and alleviate his guilt for all the affairs.That plan backfired spectacularly, and it had been the catalyst for him moving out and me realizing it was over for good.
Gio and I had never wanted the same things.
He wanted the safety, security, and tax break of a marriage. I wanted someone to love who loved me back and wanted to spendthe rest of their life with me. I was old—well, notold, but older. My midlife crisis was wanting a picket fence and a cat. His was fucking the attendant on his boss’s yacht and promising to buy him a Ferrari on their Roman getaway.
He didn’t buy the Ferrari, of course. Instead, he spent the money on a retainer and served me with divorce papers after securing a little flat in Manhattan. He’d put a whole country between us—that was how badly he wanted this to be over.
So now I had the West Coast to myself, and I was utterly alone.
I was grateful to be done with him but crushed that it happened the way it did. It was more than feeling like a failure. I felt unworthy. A few of my friends had laughed at me, said marriage was made for the straights, but as much as I’d been out as gay for as long as I could remember—out and proud in the early nineties, fresh off the heels of the AIDS crisis—I’d always wanted the life Gio had promised me.
And then he’d taken it away and hadn’t even bothered to show his face when the judge signed the papers. Twenty years together, and suddenly, it was done. Just like that.Like we’d never been married at all.
My throat felt tight. I stared across the parking garage at the building entrance and sighed. I was tired. I wanted…something, I just didn’t know what. A heavy lump in my chest made me feel like one wrong breath would make me crack and fall apart. One wrong word, one wrong movement, and it would all be over.
I pulled my rearview mirror down and stared at my dark circles. God, I needed some eye cream. “Get your shit together, Soroka. You have a mortgage to pay.”