No Good Deed - Marie Sexton Page 0,5

Gray as some kind of far-right home-grown terrorist. It was absurd. Gray was impossible on about a hundred different levels, but the stuff being said about him on the news was miles off base. And losing his job? Gray’s entire identity was tied up in being a cop. “He must be losing his mind.”

Charlie’s tone was hesitant. “He’s doing better than you might think.”

“Yeah? What’s he doing when he’s not being public enemy number one? Sleeping with half of Denver, I assume.”

Charlie squinted at him, undoubtedly trying to determine if there was more to the question.

“I’m not here to get back together with him,” Jonas assured him. “I was over Gray a long time ago. Before we even broke up, I think.”

“You haven’t missed him?”

“No.” Jonas wanted to say Charlie was the only person he’d truly missed, but the timing felt off. “I don’t know that I ever really loved Gray. I was with him for all the wrong reasons. You know that better than anybody.” And Jonas had had a lot of time to analyze their relationship over the years. To realize what an idiot he’d been. “Everybody wanted Gray, and Gray wanted me. And somehow, that’s all that mattered. I was like…I don’t know, like the empty-headed cheerleader who’s excited the quarterback likes her, even though the quarterback’s a walking weenie.”

“Is that really how you’d describe Gray? A walking weenie?” Charlie’s tone was half-amused, half-annoyed. He knew exactly what Gray was and what he wasn’t, but he’d never allow Jonas to really bad-mouth him.

“Not precisely.” Jonas thought about how to put it all into words. “It’s not that he was a bad guy, but he wasn’t what I needed him to be. I wanted to come home and say I’d had a bad day and get some sympathy. Instead, I’d get a diatribe on how I should try seeing it from the other guy’s point of view. I wanted to settle down and watch a movie and pretend we were the only two people in the world, and Gray wanted to debate every hot-button issue on the news. I wanted him to be someone he’s not.” He’d wanted him to be Charlie, but he didn’t say so. “We were never compatible, but I kept thinking I had to make things work.” He threw up his hands. “I don’t even know why! Just because everybody else wanted him, and I was stupid enough to think that made me special? Or because my ego was so tied up in being Gray’s boyfriend that I couldn’t admit I barely even liked him? God, I was such a dumbass. I was like, like…” And suddenly, he knew the perfect analogy to use with Charlie. “I was like Sandra Dee, thinking she could change Danny Zuko into the guy she wanted him to be.”

Charlie grinned. “Everybody forgets, Danny did change for her. He joined cross-country and lettered in track while his friends were stealing parts for Kenickie’s car.”

Jonas laughed. “Sure, but the minute she walks up in that skintight black leather at the end, he tosses that preppy sweater aside in a heartbeat.” He sobered. “And I did that part too. I tried to change myself for him.” He took off his glasses and used his shirt to clean them as he talked. “I don’t even like pain. Did you know that? I have a high threshold for it, but I never liked it. And yet, I put up with it every single time we had sex, because that’s what he wanted. And I kept thinking I’d somehow learn to love it because it’s what he liked.” He shook his head and put his glasses back in place. But he had a hard time meeting Charlie’s eyes. “I was a fool.”

Charlie took his hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were young.”

Yes, he’d been young. And he’d been so awed and flattered by Gray’s attention.

Jonas shook it off, forcing himself to smile. “So, you never told me: how is Gray?”

“He’s married too, believe it or not.”

Jonas sat back, stunned. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Right before Christmas.”

“I didn’t think anybody would ever be able to make Gray settle down.”

“It came as a surprise to everybody, but it suits him. So far, at least.”

Jonas moved closer, still holding Charlie’s hand. “Did he ever find out about us?”

Charlie’s cheeks turned red above the bushiness of his beard. “I never had a reason to tell him, other than to ease my own guilt. It didn’t seem worth it.”

“You