Page 62 of Something Like Winter
far to go, but he focused on undressing Travis instead. Then, dodging a
few kisses, Tim managed to get him over to his own bed. Travis
wouldn’t lie down completely, instead reaching out and trying to pull
Tim down with him.
“I have to pee,” Tim reminded him. “I’ll be right back.” “Hurry.” Travis fell backward carelessly.
“I will.” Tim left the room and slid to the floor with his back against
the closed door. Travis was drunk enough that he should pass out
quickly. All Tim had to do was wait.
They couldn’t do this anymore. Nothing would change if Tim
allowed Travis to use alcohol as an excuse to do what he wanted, to be
who he really was. Besides, it wasn’t gratifying to be with someone who
would only sleep with him when wasted. Even though Tim’s body
wanted to give in, he was cutting Travis off. They could be together
sober or not at all.
When he was sure enough time had passed, Tim quietly reentered the
room to a chorus of nasal snores. Travis still lay above the sheets, so Tim
took the blankets from his own bed and covered him. Then he lay down
next to his country boy and held him—just for a little while.
Chapter Fourteen
When Tim pulled up to Eric’s house on Tuesday, another car waited in the driveway. Parking next to the old Honda Civic, he wondered if someone would be joining them for dinner. He was halfway up the front walk when a middle-aged woman with brown curly hair and a plump frame left the house. She appeared distracted as she dug in her purse for keys, a manila folder stuffed with papers pinned beneath one arm.
“Hi,” Tim said, mostly so she wouldn’t run into him.
“Oh! Hello!” She looked him over once, her face flushing slightly before she continued on her way.
Tim looked back while waiting for Eric to answer the door, nodding at her as she pulled out of the driveway.
“I thought she would never leave!” Eric said. “Come in, come in. I’m running late because she never stops chatting.”
“Friend or family?” Tim asked.
“Neither.”
Eric led Tim to a grand kitchen. Pots and pans hung everywhere like decorations, all gleaming as if they were polished every morning. Tim noted a pair of ovens, an electric grill, and a refrigerator so tall and wide that a small family could live inside.
Leaning against the island in the room’s center, Tim whistled in appreciation. “You like to entertain?”
“Ask me that again next week. I’ll be right back. I have to run upstairs and get changed. Help yourself to a drink, if you’d like.”
Tim checked the refrigerator, mostly just to waste time. Every shelf was crammed with food. How many people lived here? Eric was about Ben’s size, so it was hard to imagine him packing away all these munchies. Closing the refrigerator, he strolled around the room, running his hands along the marble countertop. When Eric came back downstairs, he wore a maroon dress shirt and gray slacks the same color as his hair. A fresh puff of cologne followed in his wake. Tim was wearing the same T-shirt and jeans he had thrown on in the morning.
