I’m usually the one telling people that.” He was quiet for a minute, but Jonas knew he was contemplating something. “Remember what you said the other day, in the car?”
“When?”
“After the Tap House. You said something about how people who are sick of all the games can find each other too?”
Jonas slid his hands around Charlie’s waist. “I remember.”
“Well, you’re right. That’s one of the reasons this works so well. For me, at least.”
“Because there are no games?”
“Not just no games, but no hang-ups and no confusion and no tiptoeing around somebody’s baggage. You’re simple.”
Jonas pulled back, wondering if he should be offended, but Charlie kept talking.
“I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just…” He shook his head, considering his words. “I think about my ex—”
“Tad?”
“Yes. He was so conflicted. He had this idea in his head of how a gay couple should look and act. He wanted us to be above reproach, you know? The perfect pair, like the gay fucking Cleavers or something. And yet privately, nothing turned him on more than being humiliated. He couldn’t even get an erection without it. Being forced to lick urine off my boots was enough to make him come, but he hated it. He hated himself for needing it. And I spent every single day of our relationship trying to help him make peace with that.
“And then there was Stuart. He was convinced Warren was in love with everybody but him, no matter what Warren did to prove it to him. Warren jumped through hoops. Bought a fucking cage and rearranged his work hours to give him what he wanted, and it still wasn’t enough. And Rory always wanted more attention, regardless of who it came from because if he wasn’t getting attention, it somehow proved he wasn’t worth loving. And yet he was so sure he didn’t deserve it that he tied himself to the one guy in the group who was completely incapable of giving it to him. And you—”
“I was always here asking for help too.”
“Yeah, but you were never a hot mess. You were fighting with Gray. You were miserable. Your self-esteem was understandably a bit low. But now…” His hand slid possessively up Jonas’s back, pulling him close again. “The other day, after Gray interrupted us and I was feeling guilty, you could have been pissed or upset. Other men would have picked a fight, or pouted and waited for me to reassure them or make promises. You could have escalated the situation a hundred different ways. Instead, you asked me how I felt. You told me how you felt. You assessed the problem and looked for a solution. You acted like a rational fucking adult.” He laughed. “Do you have any idea how refreshing that is?”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit. I came all the way back from Seattle because I wanted your help with something.”
“Sure, and that’s fine. I mean, we all need support sometimes. That just means you’re human. But you’d already thought it through. You knew what you needed, and you asked for it. You were honest, not only with me, but with yourself.”
Jonas frowned, thinking about it. “I guess so, yeah.”
Charlie laughed. “I don’t think you know how rare that is. That’s all.” He sighed happily and kissed Jonas’s forehead. “I don’t have to be on with you twenty-four hours a day. Maybe that’s all I’m trying to say. Being with you is easy. And I don’t know if I realized how much I needed that until I had it.”
Jonas pondered that as Charlie drifted off to sleep. He still thought Charlie was giving him too much credit. But to some extent, he understood what Charlie was trying to say. Jonas didn’t need Charlie to tell him he was fine or worthy or deserved to be happy. He’d figured that all out in the years he’d been away. He’d read the books. He’d seen a therapist. If he needed to be psychoanalyzed, he’d see one again. All he wanted from Charlie was to be with him. Yes, he deserved to be happy, and Charlie gave him that.
Charlie deserved happiness too, maybe more than anyone Jonas had ever known. At the moment, the only person who didn’t seem to realize it was Gray.
Jonas hoped like hell Gray got his shit together sooner rather than later.
Chapter 15
Charlie spent the next week in a funk. He called Gray every day, but Gray never answered. Charlie left a couple of voicemails,