Page 63 of Carver’s Craving

“Well, that’s part of my job. I sort of do a number of things—making myself as useful as possible.”

“Jack of all trades?”

“Yep.”

Poppin finished her peanut butter and curled against me.

Walter was slower, but eventually he licked up every trace of the delicious concoction.

I put the empty spoons on the side table and settled in with a dog on either side. I tried to appear calm even as my heart rate kicked up.

Styx rubbed his face. “So you’re Charles.”

“Yeah.” I squinted. “When I was growing up, I didn’t like the name Carver. It set me apart from the others in my school. At least I wasn’t the only Black kid. Still…I was also—to my knowledge—one of the few kids with a mentally ill mother. So yeah, I wanted a different name. A different identity. I knew a Charles. Older guy by a couple of years. Captain of the football team, a favorite with his classmates…all that shit, you know? Valedictorian and got a scholarship to McGill University. He was going places.”

“You wanted that.”

“Definitely. I even considered changing my name. But that would’ve hurt Mom, and I’d never want to do that. So I kept the name and tried to distinguish myself in other ways. Because of her background, I gravitated to the theater—I wasn’t up to being in front of the crowds, but I loved being backstage. Excelled at that, landed a scholarship, and wound up at the University of Toronto in the undergrad drama department. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Maybe.” He scratched his stubbled jaw. “But that only somewhat explains why you didn’t give me your name.”

I sighed. “Fear. Pure and simple. I hadn’t hooked up since…well, a while.”

Slowly, he nodded. Clearly, he understood.

“And not in Mission City. In Toronto or even Oshawa was one thing—Mission City’s much different. Not just because of size—although that’s a big part of it. Also because this is the Bible Belt of Cedar Valley.”

Styx cocked his head. “You were hooking up with a guy. How did religion factor into that?”

I shrugged. “I wondered if it might be some guy cheating on his wife. You know, not out or something like that.”

“Sure.” He sounded anything but.

“My mind was rife with possibilities. And what if you were lying? What if you weren’t just passing through town?”

“And you were worried we might run into each other at the grocery store.”

“Yeah, something like that.” I sought the right words. “I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. But I still…had guilt.”

“Frank-sized guilt?”

I blinked. Then nodded.

“That I understand. Went through it myself. How can I be having sex when my good friend is gone? What does that say about me?” He shrugged. “I got over the guilt. Most likely because I really wanted to get laid. To prove to myself I was still alive. I didn’t figure I was honoring Frank’s life by withdrawing from my own. Music was too hard—fucking wasn’t. Eventually, anyway.”

“And you got to Mission City and decided to have sex with some stranger?” I arched an eyebrow.

He laughed. “I’d just driven across the country with a fuck buddy and we hadn’t fucked. Hell, I hadn’t even been horny. I wanted some—to prove I’d survived. Baxter disappeared and somehow getting laid became my priority. Your offer to let me stay in the hotel for the entire night was appreciated. So was breakfast the next morning. Mighty considerate of you. I’ve wanted to thank Charles, but had no way to reach him.”

“You haven’t been on the app?”

“Nope. I saw you in front of the bookstore and…nothing else mattered except reconnecting. Because here’s where I admit I had a crush on you back in Toronto. You were untouchable, though.”

I blinked. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that.”

“You saw me as jailbait.”

“Yeah…that’s true.” He really does have my number.