Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

“I just told you I can’t be in your house without a panic attack.”
    “Well, yeah. I don’t see this as a big problem until it’s too cold to fuck you in weird places around Tucker Springs, and even then, I can get pretty creative. But I’m also noticing you aren’t living in the same house you grew up in, and this is the second place you’ve lived in since you got here. I’m betting there’s a work-around, if we look for it.”
    Adam settled, just a little. “Well, yes, but—”
    “But nothing. I ain’t gonna act like that little princess you used to date. I got plenty of flaws, and I have my own secrets I need to tell you, but being a prick about other people’s issues ain’t one of them.”
    Adam hardly knew what to say. After several seconds of being very overcome, he finally settled on a breathy, “Oh?”
    “Yeah.” Denver opened the pizza box, put two big slices on a napkin and passed it over to Adam. “Here. You eat this, and while you do, I’ll tell you some of my secrets, and when we’ve both got everything out on the table, we’ll scope it all out and decide whether or not this is something we want to figure out. If not, we’ll just share a pizza, kiss each other good-bye, and call it a nice run.”
    Adam’s stomach tried to exit through his throat. “I don’t want to say good-bye to you.”
    Denver stroked his cheek, a little sadly. “I hope you’ll still say that when I’m done. But if you don’t, you know it’s okay, right?”
    Adam wanted to tell him no way, nohow was he saying good-bye, no matter what. But he nodded instead, settled into the grass to listen, and because he knew Denver would get after him if he didn’t, he ate.

Denver was nervous, no question. Ironically, he was more unsettled knowing that all of Adam’s hesitancy had been about something so simple—he would never wish bad experiences on anyone, particularly Adam, but he couldn’t help wishing they had more of a communion between their backstories. Of course, the very idea of anyone rejecting Adam because he had OCD was a nice distraction. It made Denver pissed, made him want to haul ass to this Bug Barn or whatever the house was and beat this Brad into a better attitude.
    It wasn’t the moment for that right now, though, and might never be. Because he owed Adam his own soul-baring.
    He stared out at the lake, steadied himself, and metaphorically waded in.
    “It starts out pretty boring, my story.” He pulled absently at tufts of grass beside his knees. “The usual deal about a southern boy who comes out, gets kicked out, and gets himself in trouble. I was sixteen and living deep in the ass of Arkansas, and I’d have been a hell of a lot better off to wait until I was older to get away. But I was sixteen and not terribly smart.” His hand stilled against the grass. “And I was pretty miserable, I admit. My stepdad liked to beat the shit out of me whenever he got the chance.”
    “You?” Adam said this, dubiously, around a mouthful of pizza. He glanced at Denver’s body and shook his head.
    Denver had to laugh. “You think I came out of my mama this big? I used to be a runt. Shot up late at eighteen, and even then I was on the lanky side. Always had a big frame, but if you don’t get enough to eat, you’re still just a nice bag of bones for breaking and skin for bruising.”
    Adam looked ill. “He hurt you?”
    “He? Hell, baby. Everybody hurt me back then.” He tapped gently at Adam’s temple. “I let them in here. Let them fuck with me, let them make me feel worthless. A lot of it was because I knew I was gay, knew they had reason to hate me because I was a freak. Or so I saw it at the time.” He eased back into the grass, feeling it tickle his elbows. “Basically, I went from fucked-up to more-fucked-up no matter what I did. Once I got kicked out, I dropped school, and I started sleeping around, trading my body for a place to stay. I saw it as taking boyfriends, but they weren’t. They were tricks. Then one day I met Sonny. He really was a boyfriend. A fucked-up one, but he wasn’t a trick. He took me out of Arkansas, all the way to Oklahoma City.” Denver shook his head. “He spent four years fucking my head up so bad, sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get it straightened out completely.”
    He paused, waiting to see how Adam reacted, nervous, waiting for the disdain. To his surprise, Adam held up his pizza. “You need to eat something,” he said gently.
    Denver