AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rage boiled up in Alex. “Well, this charity case just got offered a six-figure salary at a multinational tech company.” The clarity and strength of his voice only encouraged him. “I’d say my potential is pretty damn validated.”
A crash interrupted the announcement.
Travis’s glare shifted to the kitchen, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Bravo, computer nerd. Bravo.” Travis slow-clapped as he walked away, a stunned hush filling the room.
Alex whirled around. There stood Julian, motionless, red wine and a cheese plate splattered at his feet from a fallen tray. Alex realized what he’d impulsively revealed. Julian’s face remained unreadable, but Alex glimpsed something fractured in his eyes as the shards of their relationship pooled crimson around his feet.
Chapter 8
Afterthelastguesthad departed, Julian collapsed into an antique armchair, swirling his brandy. He took a slow sip, its smoothness searing his tongue. Alex’s announcement had shattered his fragile hopes. Underneath the shock, it forced him to acknowledge how profoundly he cared for Alex—this was no fleeting infatuation.
His hand tightened around the glass. Betrayal stung his conscience, yet it was the shame that made his eyes water. How could these emotions be this strong after one encounter?
The emptying of the dustpan interrupted Julian’s anguish. The broom returned to the closet, followed by Alex’s tentative footsteps. Eventually, he lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa across from Julian. The coffee table separated both on their respective sides. Pain was etched on Alex’s face. His shoulders slumped under some invisible weight. He looked as gutted as Julian felt.
“How long… How long have you known?” Julian asked, breaking the silence.
“About the job? About two weeks.”
“Two weeks,” he repeated. “Before or after… our time at The Crimson Lantern?”
Alex turned away as if the wallpaper had become the most interesting thing in the room. “I should have told you then. I wanted to.”
“Why didn’t you?” He set the glass to the side for fear of shattering it along with his heart. “When I asked about your plans after graduation, why not say, ‘I have a job’?”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“Why, Alex? Why wasn’t it that simple? It’s four words.”
Alex flinched. “I was confused about… this. About us. If I told you, I was worried it would change things between us. Before they even began. I wanted you that night. I still want you. Now I’m not even sure I want to go to California.”
“Of course you’ll go. It’s an incredible opportunity.” Julian tried to inject confidence into his voice, but he noticed his own disappointment. “When do you leave?”
“Right after graduation.”
“That doesn’t give us much time.” Julian raised his chin. “To determine what this is between us.”
“What isthis?” He turned his attention to the floor. “A professor and a student…” His unspoken words hung heavily between them. “I mean, I’m all futons and pizza bites. And you… Look where you live.Howyou live.” He gave a sad, self-deprecating laugh. “You own three zesters.”
Julian resented chuckling at the comment the moment it came out. “This is faculty housing. Blue Ridge covers the rent. I can’t afford a place like this on my salary. We certainly have our differences, but that doesn’t make us incompatible. Besides, is that your life’s ambition? To remain ‘futons and pizza bites’?”
“Of course not, but that change won’t happen overnight.”
“I’m in no rush.”
Alex sighed in frustration. “What will people think? They’ll think I’m using you. That I don’t deserve you.”
“Using me for what?” Julian asked. “I have nothing for anyone to take. Since when do you care what people think? Wasn’t that why you lured me to The Crimson Lantern in the first place?”
Alex slouched against the sofa, arms folded. “I didn’tlureyou anywhere.”
Julian stood, stepped around the coffee table, and sat next to him. “You’ve helped me accept parts of myself I had buried away. I thought being gay, coming out in my forties, meant I had to become someone else. You’re showing me I can be comfortable with who I am.”
“How would this even work?” Alex’s question had a pleading rather than a challenging quality to it. “We’ll be living in different places.”
“For now, but perhaps not forever. I told you, I’m patient.” He lifted Alex’s chin. “I’ve spent most of my adult life focused on my career, worrying about what I hadn’t achieved yet and who didn’t approve of me. You’ve awakened me to the idea that there are many definitions of success and happiness beyond the narrow confines of academia.”
Alex looked thoughtful. “You say you’re less career minded, but you’re the one encouraging me to take this job. To leave.”
