back, I’m going to call the police.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Goodbye, Dennis.”
Crane watched her walk, straight-backed, down the hallway and out the door without looking back at him.
Tuesday, August 23rd
The sympathetic smile Max gave him had to be fake, but Crane didn’t care. He let out a sigh. He should have gone to a hotel. This was a mistake. However, all he felt was relief when Max stepped to the side to let him in.
“No drugs,” he warned, dropping his bag on the floor.
“Whatever you say, Doc.”
Crane sat down on one of the white couches and closed his eyes. Things had escalated so quickly with Mary that he was still reeling from their argument. Part of him thought maybe things would blow over once she had some time to herself. Another part wondered if maybe she had been looking for an excuse to end things between them—maybe the lack of passion had gotten to her, maybe she was having an affair of her own… She did work a lot of nights…
Strong hands gripped his shoulders from behind and massaged him gently. A kiss on the top of his head. Max really knew how to play the part of doting partner. “Can I get you a drink, darling?” Max murmured into his hair.
“I don’t trust you,” muttered Crane, but he leaned his head to the side to give Max better access to his neck when he started kissing it.
“I promise. Just a drink. Want me to run to the store and buy some beer? I’m all out, but I’ll go if you want some. I can pick up some prawns and mussels… make us a nice seafood paella? Maybe some of that salted caramel ice-cream you like? How does that sound?” Max cajoled, his thumbs finding the sore, tense spots in Crane’s shoulders.
“Mm.” Crane conceded, feeling like he was teetering on the edge of some awful precipice, his future blown to smithereens. He was worn out… exhausted in mind and body. All he wanted to do was regroup, come up with a plan—he opened his eyes and swore.
Max’s hands froze. “What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered that I have an appointment at four with Dr. Durant.”
Max came to sit next to him on the couch, his brow furrowed. “Cancel. You don’t need to see a shrink.”
Crane began to laugh, and then realized he couldn’t stop. Max watched, quietly amused, as Crane held his ribs and laughed until he had tears in his eyes. Sides heaving, he tried to get himself under control but went into another bout of gut-aching laughter when Max smirked and said, “Okay, maybe I was wrong.”
Finally, when Crane was able to breathe again, he sagged back against the couch and didn’t push Max away when he leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
“You’re simply overwhelmed, Doc. Chill out here. Reschedule with the shrink for now… Your boss said you had to see this Durant, but she didn’t say how often, did she?”
“Mm.” Crane sighed and knuckled the corner of his eye. He’d already put off Dr. Durant once, but these were extenuating circumstances, no? He’d just been kicked to the curb—Julie would understand. He looked over at Max and noticed for the first time that the young man was dressed in dark-blue, paint-spattered mechanic’s coveralls. He reached out to touch a smear of white paint.
“Renovating?” he asked, but the condo didn’t smell of fresh paint.
“You could say that,” replied Max cryptically. He stood up and unzipped the front of his coveralls, and Crane saw he was bare-chested underneath. “You call Durant’s office. I’ll run to the store. We’ll put on a movie tonight, one of your favourites.” Crane’s eyes followed Max as he walked away, and he felt his pulse kick up a notch when the dark-blue material slid down Max’s back, revealing the angel tattoo, and dropped past his hips. Max was completely naked beneath the coveralls. Max glanced over his shoulder and gave Crane a sly smile. “Unless you have something else in mind.”
Crane looked away.
Mary’s voice echoed in his thoughts. You fucked him and then you came home and fucked me.
“Are you fucking anyone else?” Crane asked, the thought occurring to him for the first time. “Am I the only one?” He glanced over at Max who was sitting at the foot of the bed, his head tilted and expression blank.
Max gave Crane a slow grin. His fingers were teasing at the dark thatch of hair above his half-limp cock. “Do you want to be?”
“Don’t play fucking coy,