Page 14 of Brought By the Storm

Chapter Eight

Eric

After making breakfast for everyone and laying it out on my dining room table, I passed Carrington in the hallway on my way to my bathroom. His morning greeting was a quick nod followed by a rapid glance down at his feet. It reinforced that I had made the right call to have eaten alone before he and his companions descended, knowing Carrington might still be struggling with his late-night confession. Though it had been thrilling for me to hear the gorgeous man profess an attraction, it was obvious it had troubled him.

I jumped into the shower, thankful to still have hot water running in the wake of the storm. The all-house generator had come in handy. It was still windy, but the rain had ceased and I would be able to venture outside to survey the damage. I imagined that roads and airports had sustained enough to limit travel, but I hoped my guests would be able to depart the next day. I would be a bit sad to see Carrington leave, but since nothing would come of our mutual attraction other than awkwardness, it was for the best.

Once I was washed and dressed, I called my friend Mateo. Mateo had been a bar-hopping, party-going companion when we had both lived in New York City, and he had followed me to Connecticut soon after I relocated. It was easy enough for him to establish a hair-styling salon here, and it was already rivaling the success he had enjoyed in the city. When he had made the move, he told me he would enjoy being the prettiest fish in the pond—with ‘the pond’ being the Hartford gay scene—as opposed to being one of many in the large city. After having bagged the handful of desirable men available, he started complaining that the pond was more like a swamp with nothing worth fishing for. As a result, he had begun spending more time with me to fill his social calendar, settling for sports and movie viewing, or helping me with projects around the house. Each visit entailed me listening to his woes about the dearth of men and his chronic horny state, followed by a lament that I wasn’t his type, which would have allowed him to use my body for relief. Seeing as he was drawn to hunky men, his comments didn’t bother me. He wasn’t what I go for either. Mateo was handsome enough with his dark, chiseled features, perfect black hair and muscular build. But his personality was more compatible with what I sought for a fun outing, not a romantic relationship. I did appreciate, though, that he had befriended me, and he had been loyal and kind to me since.

After I checked to see how he and his apartment had endured the storm, he informed me that he was without power and close to losing the battery charge on his phone and the food in his refrigerator. I suggested he come stay with me, warning him that he’d have to settle for a sofa as I had other guests. That piqued his interest—even more so when, under pressure, I confessed to him that there were attractive men present. I explained as much as I could without revealing their identities. As luck would have it, Mateo also preferred almond milk and dairy-free butter to regular, so him bringing over some of his salvaged food would allow me to cook for Carrington.

“A friend of mine is coming to stay with us. He’s without power, and it’s too hot and humid for him to stay in his apartment without fans or air conditioning,” I informed the trio of guests.

Olivia registered mild concern, but Carrington and Stefan exchanged glances of panic. Carrington explained why he and Stefan were alarmed. “I told Eric the truth last night, Mother. He’s been kind to us. I didn’t feel comfortable lying to him any longer.”

His mother’s reaction was surprise, but she shifted to a composed, unreadable expression. “Yes, of course.”

“Now that you know our identities, you know why bringing your friend here could be problematic,” Stefan replied.

I nodded. “I understand, but you’ll see once you meet Mateo that it will be fine. He’s so not interested in politics. It’s a fifty-fifty chance he even knows who our president is, let alone who the president of your country is.” I felt guilty once the words left my mouth. I was portraying Mateo as an idiot, which he wasn’t. Of course, he would know the name of the president of the United States. He just wouldn’t care who it was as long as they were a supporter of gay rights and immigration reform. Mateo found the news to be too depressing to watch or read, figuring there was little he could do to change things anyway.

“So, you didn’t share with him anything I told you last night?” Carrington asked, unable to hide the fuller meaning of his question.

I swallowed, thinking about the moment Carrington had told me that he was attracted to me. If it weren’t for Olivia sitting there watching me, I would have become aroused with the memory. “Of course not. I wouldn’t betray your confidence.”

Carrington nodded with relief and clear appreciation. “Yes, I know you wouldn’t. Forgive me.”

“Good news is, he’s bringing his food, which includes many vegan and non-dairy items. You’ll be able to eat real food.”

Carrington looked solemn. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll be on our way as soon as we can find suitable travel arrangements.”

“Dude, I’ve already checked. There are no flights leaving the Northeast any time today. That’s if the roads are even clear enough for you to make it to an airport. You’re here for at least another night,” I informed him.

Olivia smiled. “That is kind of you to let us stay a bit longer. I’m sorry we are a bother.”

Stefan retained the look of panic he had when he first learned of Mateo’s pending arrival. “But where will everyone sleep?”

“Mateo can sleep on the couch.” I shrugged.

“But…” Stefan paused, looked over to Carrington, then back at me. “Um, now that you know the president and I are not a romantic couple, I was hoping I could sleep on the sofa this evening. It was tight in the bed, and it was also brought to my attention that I’m a bit of a snorer.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at Stefan’s discomfort. It was easy to picture an irate Carrington griping to him about the noise. “Oh. Well, yes, I can see why the bed is small for two people who are not inclined to cuddle.”

Olivia blanched, and Stefan and Carrington each blushed.

“Perhaps Stefan can sleep in the bathtub. I’m sure you have an extra pillow and blanket you could loan him,” Carrington stated. I was unclear if he was teasing. Stefan was mortified.

I rushed to his rescue. “Um, that doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“Well, neither is the sound of a buzz saw in your ear for eight hours,” Carrington uttered with disdain.

“I understand. I would offer to let Mateo share my bed, but he snores too. I needed to stay at his apartment one night when my roof was leaking. I made the mistake of accepting his offer to share his bed. It wasn’t very restful,” I conceded. After that excruciating night, I had suggested to Mateo that his snoring problem stemmed from swallowing incorrectly, but he wasn’t interested in listening. I turned to Stefan. “Where is your tongue right now?”

The three guests looked at me with a mix of bewilderment and curiosity. “Beg your pardon? Is that an American way of asking why I’m not defending myself?” Stefan asked.

I shook my head. “No, I meant literally—where is the tip of your tongue when you have your mouth closed?” I clarified. Now the three stared at me as if seeing a lunatic.

“Answer him. I’m curious to see where this is going,” Olivia commanded, still looking like she was searching for a large net to drop over me if my explanation proved me insane.