Not Another Bad Boy(5)

I don't reply. I already know that I'll be home in time to muscle  through the get-together at their house tonight. I'm already recognizing  that I love Tom too much to run away from him. My future will be full  of trashy bad boy novels and Internet porn for the times when I needed  more than Tom is willing to give me.

I finish the book at four. I'm starving and queasy after five large  coffees and one huge cookie. Wondering whether I'll get to stay home if I  throw up while getting ready for our date, I pack up and start the  march back to our apartment.





Chapter 9





Mauricio and Frankie both yell for us to come in when we ring the doorbell.

They are shuffling around the kitchen, moving pots from the oven and  pouring the contents into serving bowls like well choreographed dance  partners.

"Hola, amigos." Mauricio says without turning to look at us. His entire  focus is on making sure the sauce gets in the bowl without splashing  onto his white button-up shirt or his white pants.

"Perfect timing," Frankie says. "Have a seat at the table. We'll be  there in a second. Mo's almost got this dinner beaten into submission."

Tom and I return their greetings and sit at the table.

"So, what have you boys been up to today?" Mauricio asks, finally able to focus on us while carrying bowls to the table.

"I did some grocery shopping and some laundry. Just a light chore day."

"How about you, Parker?" Mauricio asks.

"Yeah," Tom says turning toward me. "What were you doing today?"

Frankie and Mauricio look at each other as if Tom's question indicates some deeper problem that they have been expecting.

I blanch under their accusing stares.

"Nothing much really. I went downtown to this used bookstore I used to  go to, picked up a book and read it next door at the coffee shop."







"Oh, that cute little place you used to go to back before you and Tom  hooked up?" Mauricio asks. "I haven't heard you mention that place in a  long time. I thought it closed down."

Fortunately, Tom doesn't hear the accusation of betrayal in Mauricio's words.

"That sounds nice. We should go down there tomorrow."

"Next weekend, baby," I say. "They're closed on Sundays."

Tom squeezes my shoulder in agreement and places his napkin on his lap. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

Frankie sits down, but Mauricio stays standing behind his chair.

"Parker, why don't you come with me and help pick out the wine?"

"Seriously? You know I don't know a thing about wine."

"Exactamente. I just want to make fun of you watching you try. Come along."

Frankie and Tom start talking about last night's concert while Mauricio and I walk to the wine fridge.

Mauricio opens the door and asks under his breath, "Are you fucking  around on Tom? Tell me the truth. No bullshit. If you are, Frankie and I  will help you sort this all out."

"What?" I say with a quick glance back at the table. "No. I really was  at the coffee shop reading. We had a great night last night, but things  fell apart when we got home. No biggie. I just didn't want to spend the  day walking around the apartment with Tom today. I needed a day alone."

Mauricio stares at me with his deep brown eyes. I'm glad that I am telling the truth. I would have cracked under that stare.

"Bueno. I believe you, but something's going on with you guys. How can we help?"

I grab something red from their wine fridge without even reading the label.

"I think we're just in a funk," I say.

Mauricio shuts the door.

"Mierda."

Tom is standing right behind where the door had been. His face has gone pale.

"A funk?" he asks with his voice cracking.





Chapter 10





I have no reply. I want to tell him I love him. I want to scream at him  for not taking care of my needs. Instead, I'm stuck staring silently at  my boyfriend who just wants any kind of answer.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

The near whimper in his voice and the hurt showing on his face tear at  my heart. If he wasn't between me and the door, I would run away and  never look back. It would be so much easier than dealing with talking  about these emotions.

"Tom, let's go home and talk. I don't want to do this here."

"Why not? Maybe this will be what we need to get out of our funk. That's  what you called it, right? A funk. Maybe we should air this funk out  right here in front of Mo and Frankie."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustrated at my careless words with  Mauricio. Why couldn't I have just stayed silent like I have been doing  all along?

"And this after last night," Tom shouts while returning to his seat at  the table. "Out of the blue, I make plans for us to jaunt off to San  Fran to see a concert. I thought we had a great time, too."

"I did, Tom. It was really nice."

"But too dull. Too blah."

"No. The concert was great, but...."

My hesitation tells Tom all he needs to know. He pounds the table, making the dishes jump.

Frankie lets out a little scream before covering his mouth. Mauricio  hurries to his side. All three of them glare at me, the bad one.

"But, what?" Tom screeches.

I consider telling him again that I don't want to talk about our  relationship in front of our friends. Really though, what do I have to  lose? That's not the right question. I have a ton to lose. A man who  loves me is a rare gift even if he completely misses with everything  that I crave in the bedroom.

Am I being petty? Most likely.

Will I regret this if it blows up in my face? Most definitely.

At this moment, though, it all feels as inescapable as gravity.

I look to Mauricio, hoping he will tells us to shut up and stop ruining his party, or just to get the fuck out of his place.

There is deep concern in his eyes, but he makes no move to kick us out  or stop the discussion. With a flick of his fingers, he waves me back  toward Tom to deal with our problem.

When I turn, a breadstick hits me in the chest.

"What's the matter, Parker? Tell me what's the matter."

"What the hell?"

I've never seen this side of Tom. He is almost always completely  composed, especially when it comes to our difficulties. We've only had  one real fight that both of us participated in and he never even raised  his voice. I don't even know what that fight had been about. It only  lasted a few seconds. His calmness and desire to listen to my complaints  deflated all of my energy.

His wave of pent up anger appears to be ready to crash over me.

"Open that mouth of yours and just tell me what's wrong. What do you want from me? What have I done wrong to you?"







I rush to his side and drop to my knees. Looking up into his eyes, I  say, "You haven't done anything wrong. You've been an amazing, loving  gentleman from the moment we met."

"Then what's the problem? I don't get what's going on. You think we're  in a funk? And you decide to tell Mauricio and Frankie before talking to  me?"

Frankie interrupts. "He said nothing to me. I heard from Mauricio."

Tom pounds the table again, silencing Frankie.

"What do you need, Parker? What is so important that you need to rush to Mo to tell him all about it?"

"Tom. Calm down a little."

Our roles have reversed. That's normally the line he uses on me when I'm  complaining irrationally. I feel bad stealing Tom's go-to conversation  calmer when he's completely justified in his anger.

"I didn't tell Mo anything until right there in front of the fridge. The funk I was referring to is just sex. No big deal...."

"No big deal?" He jumps away from me and circles the long way around the  table to avoid me. He leans against the kitchen counter.

"I'm not good enough in bed and that's so not a big deal that you rush  off to talk about it with our friends? What's wrong? Is my dick too  small? Do my teeth scrape your dick when I blow you? You know, you're  not so great yourself sometimes. You just lay there looking like you'd  rather be doing laundry."

Frankie can't stop himself from gasping. Mauricio rushes to comfort his finance.

Tom's words hurt me deeply.

"Trust me, I'm not thinking about laundry. That's your fetish."

Shit. I'm not controlling the words pouring out of me. This cannot end  well, but now that I've seen the spark, it looks like I'm going to burn  this mortherfucker down.

"The only reason I just lay there is because I'm waiting for you to kick  it up a notch. I keeping waiting for you to man up and fuck me like a  man. Maybe tie me up, spank me, shove me into an alley and push me to my  knees."

Tom throws the bottle of wine at me. I easily dodge it. The bottle  explodes on the marble dining room table. Wine flies everywhere, on the  wall, on the carpet, all over Mauricio's white clothes.

I try to diffuse the situation "Let's go..."

"How far do these perverted desires of yours go? Group sex? Picking up  strangers when I'm out of town? Fucking men when you say you are reading  books and drinking coffee?"

"Tom, I would never cheat on you. I just wish we could spice it up in  bed but I couldn't find a way to tell you. I'm glad it's out. Let's talk  this through. We can work this out."