Angel Box Set

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“I can’t make your brother talk to me.” Dean squirmed in April’s doorway, hands braced either side of the frame. If she tried to slam the door, she might catch him a good one in the face before he reacted. Or trap his fingers. He stood ready to jump back. For now, she glared, arms folded, the heat of her anger almost as painful as getting his fingers caught would be. The discomfort grew the longer the silence spun out.

“I’ve been ‘round there.” His voice croaked at the end, so he coughed. “He doesn’t appear to be in. I wondered if you knew where he might be.” He wasn’t so big of an i***t to add he’d toyed with the idea of dropping into Jay’s workplace, deciding he had caused enough harm already.

“He’s gone away.”

A planned holiday? Unhelpful thoughts spinning, Dean studied the doorframe. “You um…think you can get him to call me? Or tell me when he’s back?”

“Why? You want to go ‘round there and kiss him again?”

Heat flared in his face. “He…?”

“Told me? Yes.”

“Geez. Don’t the two of you keep anything from each other?”

“Surprising, but no. That way we find out when someone is taking the piss. Mind you, the list is minuscule.” She poked at his chest.

Both stood, tense. Ten seconds ticked by, twenty. April sagged as Dean slumped. They blinked at each other. Well, this was…comical. Her lips twitched.

“I don’t know which of us is crazier, me or my brother. Come on in and let’s talk.”

A better than hoped for reaction. Without hesitation, he followed her into the kitchen, resisting the urge to skip or roll over for a forgiving pat. He’d give and do almost anything to make things right again.

“You want tea? Coffee?”

“Don’t suppose you have a beer or something stronger?”

April slanted her head.

“Tea will be fine. I don’t need alcohol. Just something, you know, to dull the…” Dull what? Pain? Embarrassment? Every emotion?

“Well, sit.”

The dog he was, obeyed.

“We can have tea, and I guess you can stay for dinner if you want. Pasta, There’s plenty for two. I’m making fresh sauce.”

Though not much of a cook, April made a great pasta sauce from fresh ingredients, even grew her own herbs on the balcony of the small flat.

“T-Thanks.” A little stutter over the word there. He received a peculiar look from April—owing to the stammer, the appreciation, or both—there and gone as she bent to pull pans and plates out of cupboards. The view, not half-bad, made Dean tilt his head. One of those straight up and down women, still April managed to fill out a pair of jeans. A feminine roundness to her hips, a curve with which to get to grips, but otherwise sort of…boyish. No wonder he hadn’t been able to tell her and Jay apart from the back. Did that mean Jay had a fine backside, too? Crap.

Dean dragged his gaze away from April’s bottom to the table, preferring that spectacle. Was he confusing the two, feelings for one with the other? Did he still desire April Reid? Must do. He wasn’t gay.

Tracking through his life, he searched for a single event to provide longed-for answers. The attempt left him numb. Nothing specific signified his being gay, quite the opposite. He stuck with the concept he couldn’t be gay because he liked women. He liked women far too much. He often grinned over how much, and how most liked him right back. Mad to question his sexuality. People just knew. He was too old to have latent tendencies. Anything he’d ever experienced in the presence of men…none was an ‘inclination’. He’d never contemplated jumping into bed with a partner of the same s*x.

Dean sat at April’s small kitchen table, suffering, as she busied about the room. He rubbed over his face, longing to erase some sort of slate, scrub his brain clean.

April and Jay. Was it possible to confuse an attraction for one with the two? They were both attractive—the most notable way to tell them apart these days being where Jay had grown his hair, April had cut hers. He missed her hair. Had she and Jay walked along the road together that fateful day three years before, he would still have mistaken Jay for April and April for Jay. He would still have grabbed the wrong person and kissed her brother. His feelings for Jay were…complicated. Did he confuse what he wanted with what he could not have? No time like now to find out.

April threw a bowl in the sink, and then wiped her hands. She poured dark liquid from a teapot, added milk to the cups, brought them over, and set one in front of Dean—his the way he liked, strong with a hint of the white stuff.

Pulling out a chair on the opposite side, April sat. She drank a few sips from a brew too pale for his liking, before putting down the cup, folding her arms in a relaxed fashion, and gazing across. She twisted her mouth a little to the side, pressing her tongue against her bottom lip, pushing it out. She seemed…amused.

“What?”

“Sorry. You have no idea how you look at my kitchen table.”

The kitchen in the undersized flat—still the same green as when purchased—was tiny, and the table not two feet square. He was wider than the table. His left shoulder touched the wall.

“Why do you do these things, Dean? Why did you hurt my brother?”

“I didn’t mean to.” God, he sounded like a rerun these days, at least where the Reid siblings were concerned. He also came across as petulant. “He just wouldn’t bloody listen. He made me so angry, standing there ranting when I’d tried to defend him.” Had he, though? Had he tried to support Jay, and if so, done enough? “The guys, they were being stupid. I tried to put a stop to it, but I have to work with them and…” Excuses, excuses. “Jay, his argument, the whole thing so messy.” Ridiculous. “I did the only thing I could think of to shut him up.”

Liar. I kissed Jay because he called me a rotten kisser, but I can’t tell April.

Had Jay told her? If so, his friends caught him in another lie. He was a petulant moron. He couldn’t admit that to April, either.

April was shaking her head. “I found it sort of funny the first time you put your lips on him. Gross but funny.”

As April’s problem had nothing to do with Jay being gay, did she mean it gross Dean did the kissing?

“This time…What? You thought to kiss him, make him shut up, make him listen, and everything would be right between you? It makes no sense. This time wasn’t a mistake. You made a choice. Straight men don’t go around kissing other blokes.” She dipped her head. Her eyes flicked up a particular way. Was she hinting?

“I. Am. Not. Gay.” Madness he needed to complain.

“Well, you’re no actor.”

“Pardon?” Why did April always perplex him like this?

“You’re not an actor. This isn’t some part. It’s your life. Actors are the only straight men I know who might kiss other men, and that’s in a role, as part of their job. What other excuses are you going to come up with to cover your fine arse?”

“You think my arse is fine?”

“Fine enough to deserve a good kicking, and stop deflecting.”

Dean cradled the cup and within it, his tea, wishing he’d never come, wanting to leave.

“I have a right to an explanation. So does my brother. What are you planning to tell him?”

Dean searched for a clue because he didn’t have one. He’d run through so many speeches, discarding them all, winging it on the false hope when he saw Jay, alone with him, he’d know what to say. “Sorry. I planned to tell him I’m sorry.”

The suggestion earned a roll of her eyes. “Some days I don’t know which of us is the biggest i***t. You, or Jay, maybe me. And if you don’t like the implication you’re gay, try walking in Jay’s shoes sometime.”

“Everyone knows he’s gay. No one cares.”

“I’m not talking about that. Anyway, you’re wrong. There are always exceptions. He didn’t have it easy growing up. Can’t you remember?”

“I remember Jay being teased a little.”

“A little? A little? Let me remind you, you—“ she reached over and jabbed him in the chest, hard, before settling back “—were one of the worst.”

Rubbing at the spot where she jabbed—April knew how to hurt doing that—Dean said, “I don’t think so. Anyway, we were teens. Surely, what happened back then no longer matters? I was young. Give me a break. I never out and out called him names. I called him—”

Angel. I called him Angel.

He’d forgotten until now. He called Jay other things, but alone, on occasion, angel cake, angel face, be an angel, even snow angel in the midst of one bastard harsh winter. On the other side of the table, April prattled on, but Dean heard none of it. He’d forgotten. Had Jay?

“Can we draw a line under the past and move on?” he interrupted her. “You know I don’t care Jay is gay. I can’t speak for the rest of the world, or how they behave.”

“I’m not talking about the rest of the world. I’m talking about you.”

“Oh, come on. A bit of harmless teasing when we were kids. I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t know any better. Besides, I never believed any of it. Quiet kids are teased. It never clicked with me he was gay. I didn’t know until I returned from college.”

April gaped, her mouth hanging open in a way that might have held his interest in another time and place. “You are joking.”

“How should I know? I never gave it a moment’s thought.”

“You’re trying to tell me it never once occurred to you Jay was gay until he told you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Bullsssshhhit!”

Perplexed, Dean lifted his hands, and then let them drop. “We never talked about it. Neither of you said. You never told me. Why should I suspect?”

“Nothing? Nothing in his behaviour gave you an indication?”

“Don’t tell me you’re this pissed at me because I was a little oblivious. What else did I do?”

“You so are a wanker.”

“Hey!” Dean uttered his favourite protest. Not the worst thing of which April had ever accused him, so she didn’t seem completely annoyed, but still.

“You really haven’t the faintest idea.”

Was that a question? A statement? “Idea of what?”

“That he loves you, you moron. Oh!” April covered her mouth and nose, wide eyes staring at him around her cupped hands, the gesture almost one of prayer. No longer having a curtain of hair behind which to hide, left her expression open. Never good at disguising her emotions, a ticker tape of sentiments slid across April’s face—shock, upset, annoyance…in this case as much personal as with him. “I didn’t mean to say that. I shouldn’t have.”

Dean sat frozen. Words refused to form. He blinked, and as if a key turned inside him, he managed to swivel his neck, shift his gaze to the wall. Finding no help there, he scanned the kitchen, before looking back to her face. “He…What?”

With a jerk, April lowered her hands, slumped back in her seat, and grabbed her cup, fiddled with it, twirling it in small circles watching it revolve. She made spinning the mug appear to be the most important thing in the world. Fine. He’d wait her out. April would have to speak sometime. Emotions still passing over her face, Dean recognised the moment she made a decision.

“Jay’s going to kill me, but what the hell. You’ve embarrassed him so much, I’m not sure he can feel worse, and I can’t imagine you telling anyone outside of this room.” She sat forward and propped her elbows on the table, though she continued to focus on the tea in her mug.

“He’s always liked you. I’ve always liked you. You’re likeable, you know.” She gave him a wry twisted grin to which Dean almost responded, the reaction slipping from his face when she added, “Despite being an oaf. The trouble is you’re not like that all the time. You can be quite intelligent.”

Dean opened his mouth to complain, only to close it again, accepting the insult as well as the compliment.

“He’s always liked you, and that was bad enough, but you had to go and complicate things by grabbing him in the street and…” April waved her hands as if trying to clutch at some undefined thing. “Grrrrrrrrrraaa…that stupid kiss.”

“I thought he was youuuuu.” How many times did he have to explain?

“I know. I know. It’s even funny when you think about it.” Her lips curved now. “I even felt…Well, flattered, I guess, but I wasn’t interested in a relationship. Besides, I didn’t believe I’d get a relationship with you. Not anything long-term, I mean. Not then and not now. I don’t do flings, and…Well, you were, and are, kind of known for those.”

Unable to offer any denials, Dean stayed silent. April flattered? Nice to know he affected her to some degree, but what did all this have to do with Jay?

“And you were too close. Are, I mean. I didn’t…don’t want…” Her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t want anything, not with someone I wanted more as a friend.”

She meant s*x, and should be adult enough to use the word, especially when the biggest embarrassment of all sat six-feet-two, eyes of blue, hands the size of shovels. Pity he could be as dense as dirt because he still awaited a revelation. April took her sweet time.

“I know the first kiss was an accident, but imagine how Jay felt. None of us had seen you for ages, and not only is the first greeting you give him a silly kiss but…there’s you.”

Again with the waving. Dean shook his head, trying to tell her he didn’t know how to interpret.

“Look at yourself. Consider how it was for Jay with you staring at him, all blue eyes, taller…filled out.” April swallowed and made a small sound as if she needed to clear her throat. Her colour deepened. “Hell, you know you’re handsome and muscular.”

“You noticed, huh?”

April narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips. “You’re a total egomaniac, but, yes, if it will help get through to you. You are handsome and fit. But before we get off track, to Jay and me both it didn’t seem fair. You went away, we carried on, and you waltzed back into our lives as if not a day had gone by. You don’t need me to tell you the effect you’ve had on so many of the girls around here. Why did you imagine Jay would be any different?”

“Because he’s—”

“A bloke?”

“I was going to say, my friend.”

“Am I not your friend?”

“Well, yes.”

“Yet, you like affecting me.” She paused, doubtless to let something sink in, or to drive the next point home. “Just as you like having an effect on Jay.”

Well played, April. She had thrown anti-freeze on his emotions, having waited for a beat before springing that on him, but Dean reacted the only way he knew how. He laughed. The sound barked out before he could stop it. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. You’re lying, to yourself as much as me. You aren’t as blind to Jay as you pretend to be. Maybe you never realised how much Jay cared for you, but you know, have always known, he feels something. You like affecting people. Anyone. Everyone. You like the attention.”

“So what if I do? I don’t mean anything by it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“But you do…hurt people. Maybe it’s not intentional, but it happens. You’re a control freak.”

“Hey, now, come on! I accept some blame, but that’s harsh. I’m not trying to control people. I don’t ask them to react to me.”

“Because you don’t need to. They react anyway.”

“So how can I be blamed for that?”

“Because you thrive on it. I know you don’t even mean to, and I believe you don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re injured just the same. With luck, they are small pains. We get over them and move on. Some wounds last.”

The contents of his now half-empty cup grew cold. He seemed to spend too much time staring into almost-drained cups these days. “I can’t help how Jay feels.”

“But you could help him cope with it.”

“Why hasn’t either of you ever said anything?”

“Oh, Deannnnn.” April as good as moaned his name at him. “Jay can’t talk to you. He has too much respect for you, and he would rather have you as a friend than not have you in his life at all. He’d never risk scaring you away.”

Scare?

“We both like having you as a friend. I hoped you’d have realised by now. And Jay admit he loves you to your face? Come on. Who does that? And what’s the point in telling someone you’re never going to have a chance with?”

“Like I’m never going to have a chance with you?” He underlined the question with a grin, waited, grateful when after a few seconds April smiled back despite knowing the gesture confirmed nothing would ever happen between them. It meant she was still a friend, and he’d take that over anything.

“Yeah, just like. But, Dean, this thing with Jay…You need to accept not only how much you hurt my brother but also why you behave this way. Why you go to extremes. Why you always have to come out on top, to push things as far as you can. There has to be something drastic going on with you. I don’t know why you have to be so…so…subversive.” Though she struggled to come up with the word, she chose well. He had known, on some level, how Jay felt.

“I shouldn’t have told you all this. I’ve betrayed my brother’s confidence. Not that we share huge heart-to-hearts over you, but it’s so obvious how he feels. I shouldn’t have said anything but I am just so sick of it.” If her intention had been to leave no doubt of her opinion, she accomplished that. “If I’m tired, I can’t imagine how worn Jay—”

“Fine—”

“And I don’t know how you aren’t tired yourself—”

“I said, fine. Before I start analysing myself, what am I supposed to do about Jay? Even if he never wants to see me again, and I wouldn’t blame him, I have to apologise.”

“To make yourself feel better?” April sat nodding as if she had him all figured out.

“What? No…That’s not…I mean, yes, fine, it’ll make me feel better, too, but if I leave things as they are, how will it help Jay?”

“It won’t. He’ll be devastated most like, but you so need to be careful what you say.”

No kidding. Before they got on with their meal, one last question remained. “So, like, he likes me. But what you said…He doesn’t really love me?”

“Who knows? These days maybe it’s more a ghost or echo of his feelings. Or it could be the real thing. Like I said, we don’t talk about this, and he’s stifled his emotions for so long…” She shrugged. “He seemed okay until the other day. I’ve never seen him so pissed at you before, which I’d take as a good thing if I didn’t know he’s also upset.”

“I don’t see it,” Dean said. “If the two of you don’t mention it, how can you be so sure?”

“You want me to be wrong. I’m telling you I’m not. Unrequited love is a b***h, a bigger one even than I am, but most people are able to move on. Jay’s coped the only way anyone can. If you were gay, Jay would fall in love with you because he’d allow himself to. Even if rejected, he’d give himself the chance. When there’s no hope, you look for someone else, shove all emotion aside, or bury it deep. Some people move away. You were the one who left, so he didn’t need to. I hoped the time would be enough for him to get over you. People do what they need to do, to survive. We may not talk but I watched him when you went away. I suffered his grief. Yes, grief, Dean,” April snapped at him though he had no idea why. “I stood by while he built up a life that didn’t include you in it. I watched him go on a few dates, nothing coming of them, but at least he set you aside. Now…No, I don’t know how Jay feels. I’m not sure he’s entirely certain himself. But he’s gone through all the emotions I’d expect him to go through. You’re the one I don’t understand.”

April stood, taking their cups with her. She tipped the dregs of their drinks down the drain, snatched a packet of tomatoes off the counter, grabbed a knife from a wooden block, and began to chop. The tomatoes bled across the glass board; Dean winced as he imagined them squealing. He wanted to flinch at every strike of the knife.

“You’re always invading his space.” Knock. “His personal space.” Tap. “His life.” Rap. “You’ve always done it.” Whack. “You throw an arm around him.” Bang. “Hug him.” Smack. “You’re always telling him what to do.”

“I hug many people.”

“I know.” She brandished the knife, Dean’s attention bolted to the wavering point. “But you don’t hug other men the way you hug Jay. You hug him as if he’s one of the girls, tighter, closer. You wink at him. Damn it, Dean, you flirt.”

“I’m like that with everyone.” For a moment, he believed she might throw the blade, unaware he held his breath until he let it out after she put the weapon on the worktop.

“Men?”

He laughed and joked with men, slapped them on the back. Did he wink? Not so to be aware. If he flirted, he hadn’t noticed. If he did so with Jay…the smaller man rather invited it. True, Dean played games. He manipulated Jay. Jay was his shock absorber when he wanted male company, and he wasn’t out drinking with the lads. He called on Jay when he needed help, computer related or not. April’s reaction, if he told her any of that, would be to call him petty, vindictive, or hiding in the proverbial closet. He didn’t like any of those choices, or the unexpected light shining on him. He liked Jay, but as far as attraction went, Dean associated those feelings with the woman standing across from him, awaiting an answer. “He sort of begs me to tease him.”

“Wanker.” April tipped tomatoes into a pan, already simmering with other ingredients before she threw in herbs and diced mushrooms. What else went in remained a mystery she refused to divulge. The red goo always tasted delicious. “Wanker, wanker, waannnnkerrrr,” she sang to the sauce as if adding a new and interesting flavour.

“Fine. I’m an idiot.”

April tore open a packet of pasta winking at him. “The word begins with W.”

“Are you going to help me, or not?”

“Maybe. If we can agree.”

Damn. She was going to make him say it. “Fine, I’m a wanker. Now will you help this wanker repair the damage he’s caused?”