I sit next to him, our knees almost touching. It’s a strange kind of closeness, like we’re kids sitting on a curb or something, swapping secrets in between games.
“I was a kid when we met. Twenty-four. But I already felt like my life was over.” His voice is strained. “Felt like, who was gonna hire me after they saw that checked box on the job application. It’d just go right into the trash. And—” He leans forward, knees on his elbows, staring blankly. “—who was ever gonna want to be with me? Make a life with an ex-con.” He spits the word out, shaking his head.
It’s the other phrase that gets me, though. Make a life. It’s the first indication I’ve gotten of what Rafe wants. What he hopes for. How he thinks things work—like a life is something you can create rather than something that’s dumped on you.
“I didn’t want people to be scared of me,” he continues. “But they were. Anyway. Javi… got me. Man, without him I would’ve been just like all the shitheads I’d been hanging around with when I got sent up.
“He was my sponsor at NA. The relationship between a sponsor and a sponsee is intense. Intimate. You lay all your shit down for that person. You have to. And he didn’t judge me. He didn’t treat me like a kid. He gave me his shit in return. It was the first time I’d talked honestly with another man about being gay.”
He looks at me and his expression is open. This is the most I’ve heard him say at once.
“Um, you said ‘at first’—you were in love with him at first?”
Rafe looks down, embarrassed, but then he laughs. “Yeah. It was so embarrassing.” He shakes his head. “One night after a meeting, he asked me to help him take some boxes from his car up to his apartment. When we were done, he got me some water or something, and when he turned to give it to me—” He grimaces. “—I kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking. That he’d used the boxes as a ploy to get me into bed or something. Hell, I don’t know. He dropped the water, the glass smashed, and he pushed me away. I was fucking mortified. I worshipped him. Thought he had it all together. I wanted to be him. But right then, fuck, I had never felt so stupid.”
“What did he do?” The notion of Rafe wanting someone that badly makes me tense, like I’m running out of time for something.
“Oh, he was really kind about it, of course. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. He didn’t mean to make me feel bad, but he said it wasn’t right. He was my sponsor, and I hadn’t been clean that long. Besides, he said he saw me as a little brother.”
“Wait, he was old?” I’ve been picturing some really hot variation on Rafe, I realize.
“Not old, but older than me. I was twenty-four; he was about forty.” Rafe’s smile is fond. “This big old leather daddy.”
“What the hell is a leather daddy?”
He glances sideways at me, looking a little embarrassed. “He was a big, beefy guy with a beard and slicked-back hair who always wore jeans and biker boots and a leather vest. Ate burritos or hamburgers for every meal.”
“So, um, is that, like, your type?”
Rafe snorts. He looks right at me and takes my hands in his. Ugh, I think mine are all sweaty.
“No,” he says. When he lets go of my hands, the disappointment hits hard. Suddenly touching him seems crucial. “Anyway, I got over it. Javi was great. He acted exactly the same around me after that, so I didn’t feel so awkward. Never stopped hugging me or hanging out with me. Eventually, I forgot it ever happened, really. He was… my mentor, my sponsor. My best friend.”
Rafe looks down at his hands.
“And now he’s just… gone. And I don’t know what to do with that.”
He doesn’t try to play it off or cover it up or act like he’s okay when he isn’t. He… feels it. And I wish so fucking bad I could be like that. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest and I’m sweating, but I can’t help myself. I need to touch him, breathe him in, absorb some of the sadness that feels so familiar.
I push up onto my knees and gently touch my lips to his. He startles at first, like he didn’t think that’s what I was going to do, but then he relaxes and lets me kiss him.
I can’t believe I’m kissing a man.
I can’t believe I’m kissing Rafe.
And shit, I must be doing a terrible job, because Rafe’s sitting stock-still. After a few seconds, though, one hand slides up my back and the other cups my cheek. And he starts really kissing me. I mean, holy hell is he kissing me.