Page 3 of Except You

I bob my head, taking in his hard nipples beneath his shirt. That must be a very thin strip of fabric for me to see them, it’s basically nonexistent. I hope he didn’t spend much money on that, it’s basically useless.

“Yeah, just trying to figure out what makes my brother tick so I can get back into his life. Been out of it for a long time. For good reason. I was an asshole. Unequivocally.”

Beau bobs his head. “Hm, well then. How can I be of assistance? Seems I need some more good karma in my life, and this will be just the thing I need to rack up the points.”

“I dunno…” I begin, but he cuts me off, linking his arm with mine, that floral scent wafting up between us and making my cheeks heat. A man should never smell this good. It should be illegal.

“How about I tell you all the things I know about being gay and then you can go home a much wiser and open-minded man?”

I take another slug of my beer and nod. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

He drags me around the room, his arm still in mine, his throat bobbing as he drinks that martini. I try not to stare at him, but there’s just something about him that’s so alluring, so eye-catching. He tells me bits and pieces of the history of gay clubs and about the oppression of the LGBTQ+ community before rattling off some hellos to people who seem to know him.

He’s friendly, that much I can tell, and the way he speaks is so captivating. He could be a teacher, standing before students and lecturing, all of them on the edge of their seats as they listen.

When he finally finishes his drink, he sets it down on a table full of people and continues on his way. My empty beer is still dangling from my hand, and I’m not sure where to put it. Honestly, I just feel discombobulated and lightheaded, almost like I’m in a waking dream.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I’m doing it. I’m doing it. I’m in a gay bar being led around by a gay man, trying to understand what the fuck is going on with my brother, what the hell is going on with his husband.

And the longer Beau talks animatedly, the more I start to realize that I can get the appeal. I mean, I can see what could happen, how someone like him could make a straight man bend.

Beau is intoxicating. His scent, the way he moves, the shape of his throat, the way that he speaks. I can see another man becoming completely infatuated with him.

Not that I am. But I can see how it could happen and can understand the obsession another might have over this man.

“So, now that I’ve given you the lowdown of how we all came to be where we are now, what questions do you have about my gay life, straight man?” Beau asks with a twinkle in his eye. I should pull away from him, should stand far, far away, but I only seem to lean into him.

It’s his fault for smelling so damn good. It must be some sort of pheromone that is messing with my brain function.

“I don’t have any questions. None that I can think of.”

It’s a dumb thing to say. I have a shit ton of questions. Ones I’ve been thinking about for years.

Ever since Magnus went and married a man and adopted kids. But way before that too. If I’m honest, I guess I saw it all along. Growing up, I knew Magnus wasn’t like me and our other brothers, Matt and Mitch. He was always different, but I didn’t know he was like that.

And when we all found out, things went horribly wrong. Now we have no contact with him, and that just doesn’t sit well with me.

So, even if he doesn’t want to talk to me again, I’ll still do this so I can understand. So I can walk through my life a little less ignorant about things I haven’t really understood or accepted.

I mean, do I accept it? If I want to be in Magnus’s life, I have to, right? To some extent? I have no right to look down on another’s lifestyle when mine has been so filled with hate. Hate is worse than who someone chooses to love.

My therapist told me that.

“Well, alright, I guess tonight you can just observe?” His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth and then his eyes light up. “Or even better, want to hit the dance floor with me? I can show you some really gay moves.”

I stare at him, and he huffs a laugh.

“I’m kidding. Gay moves and straight moves are all the same. I mean, we do move a lot better than those guys with sticks up their asses, but I digress.”

He smirks at me and then grabs my empty beer bottle and sets it on a table before pulling me out onto the dancefloor.

His hands are in mine, and I realize how soft they are, how smooth. If I were anywhere else, I’d be worried people would be watching me, judging me, but I know no one is. Everyone is focused on themselves or on the other people they’re with. No one cares about Beau and me dancing to the beat of the thrumming music.

Not one person gives a flying fuck that two men are dancing together.

My dad would care.

I push that thought away and focus on the man in front of me, his blue eyes, his wavy blond hair. In the shimmering lights, he almost looks ethereal. Like an angel sent to guide me from above.

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