Page 78 of Fish Out of Water

Jake nodded as though he had any idea of what Robbie was talking about. “Your parents didn’t care?”

“Of course not.” Robbie smiled wryly. “They told me to throw everything out if I wanted, as long as they never had to deal with it. I couldn’t do that, though.” He ran his hand along the mantel of the fireplace with a touch so tender, it was like he was caressing the cheek of his own baby. “This place has too much history to gut it and start fresh. It wouldn’t be fair to it, and I doubt Eventide would appreciate it.”

“Your family must have had a pretty big hand in establishing the town, huh?”

“They did,” Robbie said slowly, “though my grandparents destroyed all the favor the family curried when they began buying out businesses after the success of the lumber mill they ran. It earned them a massive fortune, but it ruined their legacy.”

“Would you rather have the fortune or the legacy?” Jake regretted the question as soon as he asked it. He almost didn’t want to know Robbie’s answer either.

“Honestly?” Robbie sat down in a wingback chair next to the unlit fireplace. “Neither. I would rather have a small house by the beach and work at Sandway. And before you say anything, I know, I know: poor little rich boy. I should be grateful for myprivilege. Sometimes I just wish I could have a normal life, or at least a normal family.”

Jake breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down across from Robbie on a velvet sofa. It was soft and warm, its deep burgundy hue so rich, he had to believe this was one of the pieces Robbie had gotten reupholstered. “My parents piss me off too sometimes,” he said, “but you know all about that by now. At least yours try to avoid you as much as you avoid them. That’s something to appreciate, right?” He smiled, hoping Robbie would smile back.

He didn’t.

“Listen to me complain,” Robbie said after a moment. “I brought you here for a fun night, and now I’m fucking it all up by whining about my life. Come on; I’ll take you up to the bedroom.”

“You move fast.”

“Not as fast as you.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair.” Jake tried to laugh, but his nerves had returned with a vengeance, and they bared themselves raw in whatever choked sound he made just then. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

“I’m afraid to ask what you mean by that.” Robbie shook his head, then hesitated for a moment. “Can I ask you a rude question, Jake?”

“My permission’s never stopped you before.”

“Have you ever even had sex with the same person three times in a row?”

“In a row? Sure.”

“On different occasions?”

A lump formed in Jake’s throat. He swallowed thickly, willing it to go away, but it remained. “Uh, no, I haven’t. I don’t think so, at least. It’s hard to remember all my past encounters.I don’t usually spend long enough with any single person to get that close. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

“It doesn’t. Not exactly. I’m just… I don’t want to be the man who ruins your life.”

“We’re way past that, Robbie. I know I’m gonna have to face the consequences of this someday. Until then, though, let’s just have fun. It’s why I’m here now, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Robbie took Jake’s hand, leading him out of the living room and up a set of grand, creaky wooden stairs. These showed the age of the house more than anything else so far, but it was comforting in a way. Like Robbie, this little paradise had its imperfections, too.

Robbie’s guiding hand was gentle as ever, his fingertips barely brushing Jake’s knuckles. There was something about it that made dread well up in Jake, as though something terrible were going to happen. But he’d been with Robbie before. He knew what came after this. He knew what to expect.

Except this was Robbie’s house, and Robbie’s room, and the very place Robbie said he kept sacred. Now Jake was part of that sacred space, and that thought made his heart freeze up more than any text from a needy guy the morning after.

They reached the top of the winding staircase in silence, and for a moment Jake stood on the landing, surrounded by wainscoted walls and paralyzed by the collection of doors leading to places he couldn’t even imagine.

“My bedroom’s at the end of the hall,” Robbie said. “Follow me.”

“Oh, right.”

Jake couldn’t help peeking into the rooms with doors left ajar as he walked past. Most of them were empty guest rooms, one was a home office, and another looked to be storage. He wondered if the house had ever been truly full, or if there wasalways an empty room, left open more as a formality than as a place for someone to actually stay.

Robbie reached a door that was closed, and after a deep breath, pushed it open. It was dark inside, but warm, as if the heating had been turned on an hour or two before he got back. Jake stepped inside behind him, his feet sinking into plush carpet.

Then the light turned on. Robbie glanced back, the lines in his face more prominent in this dim overhead lighting than anywhere else in the house. “Sorry it’s messy in here,” he said, stooping to pick up one of those pristine linen shirts Jake had seen him wear so many times before.

“You saw my room at Aunt Isabel’s house,” Jake said. “This is nothing.”