Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

of the kitchen chairs. His posture had gone from teasing to defeated in a matter of seconds.
    "Devon? What's wrong?" Scott placed the knife on the cutting board, wiped his hands on a towel, and slipped to Devon's side.
    "One of my buddies' wife is sick. They think she doesn't have much time left. He needed to blow off some steam."
    "I'm sorry." Scott swept his hand up and down Devon's strong back. "Anything I can do?" It was a stupid question, but Scott had no idea what else to say. He'd been fortunate so far in not having to deal with anything so tragic and close before, but he wished he could find the words to comfort Devon.
    "Naw. He's just trying to keep things normal and sane for his kids. That's what Beth wants so we're all doing our part to support and take care of him. But thanks."
    Scott nodded, leaning down to kiss the top of Devon's wet head, his lips lingering for a long moment. "How about fruit salad and tea in bed?"
    "And dessert?" Devon's eyes twinkled up at Scott. "Can't forget the dessert."
    "How could I with you around?" Scott chuckled before moving back to the counter. "Did you want me to take you to get your bike now or just before you head home?"
    "It's already at home."
    Scott turned to gaze at Devon. "You got drunk at home then came over here at two in the morning?"
    Devon shrugged. "It was Saturday, that's our night and Sunday's our day, right?"
    Shell shocked, Scott spun away from Devon again, some excuse about finishing the salad slipping easily off his tongue. Had Devon just said they had a special day? Two days in fact? His heart hammered a little louder in his chest, snakes crawling under the surface of his skin. He sucked in a calming breath and tried to keep the shaky anxiety from his voice. "Yeah, I guess. You don't need to take a taxi though, I can drive you home."
    "Naw. You have your Sunday routine. You need to relax. Tax season's a bitch, right?"
    Something toxic skittered across Scott's brain, scattering the already festering bubbles of panic lodged in his head. "Are you married, Devon?"
    The look that crossed Devon's face would have been comical had the circumstances not been so dire to Scott. "What?"
    "This has nothing to do with tax season and you know it. You're hiding something and the logical conclusion is a wife. Did you have a fight with her last night so you came running to me?"
    Scott was out of control. All the suspicions he'd been having, all the insecurities about Devon's mysterious disappearances and penchant to hide out at Scott's house moving forefront and smacking him in the face...and the heart.
    "Logical, huh?"
    "Just answer the question. Are you married?" Scott's fingers dug uncomfortably into his hips, the small divots of pain keeping him present and in the moment. It was a trick he'd picked up in a therapy group; it didn't always work, but on the odd occasion it did.
    "Fuck no! And I don't have another lover either in case that's your next question."
    Scott ignored Devon's tense posture, the defensive cock of his head, the sad confusion in his eyes. Desperation could be camouflaged by confusion quite easily and there was no way in hell he was going to get sucked in by Devon's distractions. It was time for the truth.
    "Then why do you refuse to be seen with me?"
    "I fucking don't. We went to the club and I went to the market with you. What are doing, Scott? Why are you accusing me—"
    "You stayed in the car."
    "What?"
    Scott huffed out a breath, the air in the kitchen suddenly too close, the room too warm. "At the market... you stayed in the car."
    "I'd had a long night. I was tired. You said you were going to be quick."
    "Not too tired to fuck me in the kitchen before we even got the groceries unpacked."
    Devon reached out a hand to touch Scott. Scott pulled away. "Come on, babe. Don't be like that."
    "Like what? You know everything about me but we can't seem to step foot outside the house without you having a freak out."
    "It was only once and I told you what happened."
    "Mistaken identity. Blah, blah, blah. How do I know he wasn't just another fuck buddy? Maybe whatever the fuck he called you is one of your aliases."
    "I'm not fucking him. I have never fucked him. And I don't think of you as just another fuck buddy. Can't you just leave it alone? We're having a great time and I really like you."
    "Not enough to be seen with me." Scott flinched back when Devon slammed his fist on the counter.
    "Oh fuck me! Give it a rest. I don't know everything about you,