Page 13 of Small City Heart
Chapter Four
Charlie watched from his front step as Patrick hitched himself off his motorcycle. They’d left the reunion in a daze of rushed goodbyes and half-planned logistics, but since they’d arrived at his duplex, all Charlie’s pent-up energy and urgency had disappeared.
Yeah, now it was awkward.
Especially once Patrick followed him inside and noticed the large photography print of the Tallgrass National Prairie Preserve over Charlie’s couch.
“That’s mine,” Patrick said.
“Well, technically, I bought it.”
Patrick whipped around and stared at him. “Where did you get it? The Chase Gallery?”
Charlie nodded. “Mr. Mikhailov called me when it came in. He knew I wanted a larger print.”
“You’re blowing my mind.” Patrick collapsed onto the sofa and held his head in his hands. “I can’t believe you own one of my photos.”
Charlie owned several of Patrick’s prints, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. He’d already opened a vein for Patrick’s observation at the reunion. He didn’t want to scare him away.
“I like your Flint Hills stuff.”
“I haven’t shot out here in years.” Patrick shook his head. “I’ve tried to tell people in Chicago what it’s really like in this part of Kansas, but no one believes me. Maybe people who aren’t connected to the land in some way can’t truly appreciate it.”
“Do you miss it?” Charlie sat beside Patrick and pulled his hands off his face. “Kansas, I mean.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Why? Because of your parents’ divorce?”
“Yes. And because this was never exactly a happy place for me. I always feltapartfrom everyone else, and I’m not sure if that was my fault or something out of my control. I miss the landscape. I miss the hills. I miss the controlled burns. I miss my mom. And Chicago isn’t … Well, it’s not exactly what I expected.”
“You said you’re between jobs. What happened?”
Suddenly, Charlie’s lap was full of Patrick as he straddled him.
“I’ll tell you, but then we move on. I want to screw.”
Charlie laughed and grabbed Patrick’s hips.
“Deal.”
“Okay.” Patrick took a deep breath and stared at a spot over Charlie’s shoulder. “I fucked my boss. For about a year. He’s got a lot of sway in my little circle of the Chicago art scene. It was stupid and toxic. It ended, but now it hurts to go to work. He’s made it difficult, and he’s got power over more than just my gallery job. It’s impossible to stay there.”
“Shit. Patrick.” Charlie reached up and cupped Patrick’s face, pushing the stray curls out of his eyes.
“I knew better. It’s my fault.”
“Hey. Look at me.” Patrick let his gaze drift to Charlie’s face, and there was a world of secrets, discomfort, and pain in Patrick’s eyes. “You didn’t deserve that, and it’s not your fault. That’s the definition of an abuse of power. When did this happen?”
“Uh, everything went to hell about two weeks ago, but it’s been a long time coming. Once it started, I realized how bad it was going to be if I ended it, so I didn’t end it until it was absolutely tearing me apart.”
Whoa.That was recent.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Charlie gestured between them. Surely, the pain Patrick was going through was too fresh.
When he and Donovan, his last boyfriend, had broken up, it had taken him a few months to want to touch someone else. Of course, he’d clung to that relationship, scared to let go. Needy and demanding. That wasn’t at all like Patrick’s toxic relationship/work situation, but Charlie needed to be sure this was something Patrick actually wanted.
Patrick nodded before pressing a thumb to Charlie’s chin, right on his dimple. “It’s hard to believe the hottest, friendliest guy in my graduating class wants to bang me, has my prints in his house, and admits to having a crush on me for years. I keep searching for the hidden cameras. Or the scriptwriter. It’s bizarre.”
