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It took a second, but he met Cliff’s gaze with his own frustrated one.
“If you think that all you have to offer Mike is your body, then you’re not ready to be in a relationship.”
No, that’s not what I meant! Rayne shook his head until it started to ache. “No, Cliff. I’m ready, really ready. That just came out wrong. I mean, I try to have conversations with him, but we’re gone all day from each other. We text a couple times, but I try not to bother him because I know he’s busy. Mike has a very successful landscaping business, but it forces him to work harder than he should. So, I do my best to pull my weight. I cook, I grocery shop, I make sure to try to keep the house spotless—I even cleaned his bathroom for him the other day.”
“And was he grateful?”
Rayne nodded sadly. “He said thanks but asked me not to do it again because he has a cleaning lady that comes every two weeks. ‘You’re not here to be my butler, sweetheart,’” Rayne mocked in Mike’s raspy voice.
Cliff laughed at his imitation.
“All he does is tell me what I’m not there to do. I’m not there to entertain him, I’m not there to warm his bed, I’m not there to clean his house… well then, what the fuck am I doing there?”
The waitress came by with a coffeepot and refilled Cliff’s mug while trying not to make eye contact with Rayne.
“And you think you have nothing else to offer Mike?” Cliff left his question suspended in the air for a long moment. Rayne was quiet while his sponsor watched him closely.
He was thinking hard. Rayne had tried all he knew this week. But Mike was a man of simple pleasures. He enjoyed the comfort of his home, spending time with his boys, gardening, eating takeout, or riding his bike with the night air in his face, and that was about it. Rayne knew a ton of romantic places to go in the city, the fanciest restaurants to dine at, Broadway shows at the Chrysler Hall, museums, and intimate strolls they could take on the beach, but that wasn’t the kind of man he had. And he was grateful for it.
“I know a lot of ways to satisfy a man, Cliff. Believe me, I do. But Mike is nothing like those other greedy bastards I messed around with. He has no ulterior motive whatsoever. He just wants me there. He just wants me for me.” Whatever the hell that means.
“Then give yourself to him,” Cliff said easily as if Rayne hadn’t just explained all the ways he’d already tried.
“Heathcliff, have you been listening to me, or are you on a sugar high from that stack of pancakes you just ate? I’ve already tried to—”
“Rayne.” Cliff leaned forward, his voice a smidge harder. “You have a man at home who works outside in the heat doing manual labor all day. When he gets home, his body aches so badly that all he can do is pop some Motrin and go to sleep. You’re a goddamn masseur, Rayne. One of the best, so you’ve said.”
Rayne closed his eyes at his own foolishness. Just because he wasn’t a certified therapist yet didn’t mean anything. He knew what to do.
“Can you really not think of any other way you could care for Mike?” Cliff looked smug as Rayne hurried and signaled for the check so Cliff could drive him home.
