Page 7 of A LIttle Christmas: Samm
She sputters, sounding indignant on his behalf, which is nice. “You are not a beggar! There is no way you’re a beggar! Guys must fall all over themselves for you,” she says. She even sounds like she believes it.
“If I wanted a one-night stand, I could have any gay guy in the city. They’re all sluts. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a hole. I want to be special. I want him to give a shit about me and care. And I want him to take care of me.” His voice wobbles pathetically.
“Is Ballbuster the guy to do that? Does he have a real name?”
“His name is Lex.”
“Lex,” she repeats. “That sounds made up.”
“That’s entirely possible. Half the people in the kink community use made-up names.”
“Hmm. What does he do?”
“He’s in between jobs.” Samuel winces.
“How long has that been going on for?”She asks, sounding unimpressed.
“Uh… a while.” He can feel the disapproval coming through the phone.
“Will you go to his place?”
“No, he’s… we can’t go to his place.”
“Roommates?” She asks.
“Yeah. Sort of.”
A heavy sigh. “Does he live at home with his mom?”
“Don’t judge! It’s a really bad economy out there.”
“Uh huh. How old is he?”
“Do we have to talk about this?”
She waits.
“He just turned fifty.”
“Define ‘just,’” she demands.
“He’s gonna be 53 in March.”
“Oh Samuel.”
“Look, I know he’s not perfect! He doesn’t have money or a job, or a lot of hair, but heisgay. And that’s a hell of a lot better than having a crush on my straight boss!” He gasps in horror. “Which Idon’thave. To be clear. I am not in love with Mr. Demarco. I mean Bryan!”
There is a long, horrible silence. Because they both know that Bryan Demarco is straight as an arrow. And Samuel being in love with him is never gonna go anywhere.
“I just want you to be happy,” she finally says. “Is this man likely to hurt you?”
“I mean… not in a bad way,” he says. “We’ve talked about stuff. Negotiated. I’m not afraid of him. And I could defend myself. It’s not like he spends a lot of time in the gym.”
He squeezes his eyes closed and contemplates banging his head against the refrigerator. “I know I’ve made it sound like this guy is a total loser, but he isn’t. Promise.”
“Send someone a picture of his driver’s license before you go anywhere with him. I’m serious. And share your location, too. You can send them to me if you want.”
He nods, too emotional to say thank you. It’s nice to have someone care for him. Who feels almost like family. “Yes, ma’am.” He blows his nose again.
