Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (11 page)

“I’m done, woman,” Brett said with a blustery huff. He picked up the platter of turkey and held it out to Memphis. “Here,” he said. “Just because you decided to announce you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you get out of doing work. You can carry this to the table.”

“You got it, pops,” Memphis said with a grin, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Here, son.” Brett handed Tyler the gravy bowl. “You get to help, too.”

The pressure in Tyler’s chest eased, and he accepted the bowl, interpreting his task to mean that the issue of his relationship with Memphis had been heard, processed, and accepted. Anita grabbed the salad and instructed her husband to bring the rolls. Memphis smiled at Tyler before the foursome headed down the hall and out a set of French doors onto a large, brick patio filled with a little over a dozen people.

“Gather around, everybody,” Anita said, setting the salad bowl in the middle of the large portable table being used for the buffet. “This is Tyler, Memphis’s boyfriend.”

Holy shit
.

Tyler’s insides took the final leap into the abyss, and he stumbled a bit on an uneven brick. There’d been no warning. No time to prepare. Memphis closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, before he shot Tyler an apologetic look.

Anita placed her hands on her hips, eyeing each individual in the crowd. “And if anybody has a problem with that, see me after dinner and I’ll set you straight.”

Tyler blinked, the words simmering in his head and seeping into his chest.

Somewhere, someone was giggling.

A girl who appeared to be about five or six years old glanced up at the pretty brunette standing beside her. “I thought Uncle Memphis liked girls, Mom.”

The giggling grew louder.

“I do, peanut,” Memphis said. “I like boys, too.”

“Okay,” she said. “Can we eat now? I’m hungry.”

With that statement, everyone started talking, and none of the conversations seemed to be about Anita’s surprising announcement—at least not that Tyler could hear, anyway.

“Tyler.”

Still stunned, he turned.

Memphis’s mom came to a stop beside him and took his arm. “Come sit by me,” she said with a smile, leading him near the head of the table. “I’d like to hear how my son is
really
doing.”

He took a seat beside Anita. From across the table, his boyfriend shot him another wink, and Tyler finally recognized that feeling he always got when Memphis looked at him and grinned.

It felt like home.

Present-day, San Francisco, Noah’s condo

“Are you upset?” Memphis asked as he watched Tyler cross the guest bedroom.

“About what?” Tyler snapped the clean sheet, the fabric billowing outward before settling across the bed. “The fact that Noah just took you on a commentary-filled tour through my dating history, pointing out my every ex along the way?” he said with a wry tone.

Memphis grinned. “No,” he said. And then the smile slowly fell from his face. “I’m talking about the news that Alec and Dylan are going to be parents.”

Tyler’s hands slowed in the middle of smoothing down the sheet. “I already knew they’d talked about finding a surrogate and having a kid. The due date was a surprise, though.” He tucked the final corner of the fabric in and straightened. “Let’s go take care of that laceration,” he said, and then he turned on his heel and disappeared into the bathroom.

Hunh.

Memphis followed and leaned a shoulder against the door jamb, silently studying Tyler as he pulled towels from the bathroom closet and set them on the counter. There was definitely an underlying tension in the lean frame that hadn’t been there before, the broad shoulders stiff beneath the dress shirt.

Jesus, the guy was still hard to read. And Memphis needed those skills, because he’d decided it was time to come clean about why he’d left ten years ago.

He wasn’t letting Tyler leave this room until he did…

Memphis fought off the weight pressing down on his chest.

“You’re still pale and look like you’re ready to keel over.” Tyler opened the medicine cabinet over the sink and pulled out a first aid kit. “You should sit down before you fall down.”

The throbbing in Memphis’s head had dulled quite a bit but still left him feeling like a freaking slug, so he took a seat on the edge of the tub. Tyler pulled supplies from the kit and placed them on the counter. Memphis admired his economy of movements and his confidence, so different from how he used to be. Tyler turned and pressed thick gauze to Memphis’s wound, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. But the sting wasn’t near as bad as the pain in his skull.

Or the ten-year-old ache of regret.

Memphis searched the careful expression on Tyler’s face. “Living with someone as long as you and Alec did…well, relationships like that are hard to get over.”

And made it impossible to walk away without scars. He’d learned that the hard way.

Tyler hiked an eyebrow and looked down at him. “I’m well aware of that.”

A heavy pause stretched between them as Memphis wondered if he’d been referring to his relationship with Alec or someone else or…him. All of the above? None of the above? And why the hell was the answer so important?

He pushed the disturbing thoughts aside as Tyler went on.

“It took me a while to realize Alec was more focused on Tyler the potential husband than on Tyler the individual.” He unscrewed the lid to a bottle of antiseptic and picked up a cotton ball. “I left him because I finally figured out he cared more about getting married than he did about marrying
me
.”

Oh…

“I didn’t handle the realization so well at first,” Tyler said dryly. “But everything worked out okay in the end.” He met Memphis’s gaze, sincerity in his tone. “Alec loves Dylan. And I’m happy for him.”

“Then why has the news left you so tense?” Memphis asked.

A small line appeared between the man’s eyebrows. “I’m just wondering how they’ll handle the arrangement with the mother.”

Understanding arrived and left Memphis wanting to slap his forehead like the clueless fucking idiot he was. Tyler would certainly have a unique viewpoint about the situation, because, damn…

Memphis twisted his lips. He’d wanted to ask the question years ago. But at the time, bringing up the touchy subject hadn’t felt right. It was the only part of the story that the guy had never shared.

“How did you find out you were being given up for adoption?” Memphis asked.

Tyler stared at Memphis for a long moment before looking down at the supplies in his hand as if suddenly wondering why he was holding them and what he was supposed to be doing. And then he slowly set the bottle of antiseptic back on the counter.

“I knew something was up because my mom took me to the mall,” Tyler said.

The statement made absolutely no sense. Memphis shifted on the hard edge of the tub—his ass hurt, his head thumped, and the tile felt cold against his feet—but no way in hell was he breaking the momentum of the moment.

“The mall?” Memphis said.

Tyler turned and leaned his hip against the bathroom vanity. For a second, he seemed as if he was debating whether or not to go on.

“Whenever she wanted to cheer me up, we took the bus to the mall,” he said. “That day it was a little too early for lunch, but she bought me a soft drink and a slice of pizza anyway. Pepperoni and sausage.” He let out an amused huff. “My favorite.”

“I know. I was the college roommate who threw a shit-ton of those pizza boxes away.”

Tyler looked at Memphis. “Yeah,” he said with a faint smile on his lips. “I remember the whining well.”

A flash of shared amusement and understanding and happier times flared between them, making the ache in Memphis’s chest more acute. God, he’d really screwed things up back then. Tyler returned his gaze to the far wall, and, just when Memphis thought the man wouldn’t go on, he did.

“We were sitting in the food court when my mom told me she was going to quickly visit one of the stores. She said they wouldn’t let me in with my pizza,” he went on. “So she kissed me and told me to wait for her there.”

The hairs on the back of Memphis’s neck lifted, and he stared at Tyler’s profile. The air felt thick, and Memphis knew without a doubt he wouldn’t like what came next, but he suppressed the sudden urge to change the subject, no matter how much he didn’t want to learn the rest.

His voice rough, Memphis asked, “And…?”

Tyler’s expression remained calm. “And she never came back.”

The words hit like an airbag after a twenty-story free fall, punching the breath from Memphis’s chest.

Motherfucker.

A rock formed in his throat, threatening to cut off his air as he pictured a four-year-old Tyler sitting in a busy mall, people bustling past. Black curls and skinny legs and scared gray eyes scanning the crowd while he waited for his mom to return.

And waited and waited…

Jesus. Memphis fought the urge to weep for the boy he’d been and gripped the edge of the tub tightly, wishing the woman had lived just so he could hunt her down and ream her a new one.

“She was pretty young at the time.” Tyler turned and picked up his supplies, pressing the cotton to the opening of the bottle of antiseptic. “I’m not sure what prompted her decision to finally give me up. The HIV diagnosis, maybe? Losing our apartment? Or because I was old enough to start asking questions about the men coming and going…” He shrugged, the small movement a gesture of acceptance Memphis suspected had taken years to achieve. “I think she did the only thing she could, giving me up.”

And with those words, the guy tipped the container, soaking the cotton ball. But Memphis hated the freaking accepting tone in Tyler’s voice. He hated what she’d done to him. She hadn’t just given him up, she’d
abandoned
him.

Just like you did
.

Oh…God.

The urge to vomit rose, and Memphis bit the inside of his cheek. And if he didn’t get this off his chest now, he was going to suffocate.

“I need to explain why I left,” he said.

The statement vaporized every molecule of oxygen in the room. The scent of antiseptic permeated the air, and Tyler paused, the soaked cotton ball gripped in his fingers. Until, finally…

“That was a long time ago.” Tyler’s words were deceptively mild. Emotionless, despite the underlying tension. “It’s not important anymore.”

He plopped the cotton ball against the cut, and the sharp sting made Memphis suck in a hissing breath. He gripped Tyler’s wrist and pulled the hand away, staring up at the guy who seemed determined
not
to have any conversations that dealt with
their
past.

Well, no fucking more.

“I got sick again,” he said.

Frozen, Tyler stared down at him, his wrist still caught in Memphis’s grip. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

Memphis pushed on. “That Friday you left for a field trip, I went in for my regular follow-up with the oncologist, and the routine workup brought…bad news.” He ignored the roll in his gut at the memory. “They told me my statistical chance of survival was twenty-five percent, at best. I had no idea if I would live or not. In fact,” he went on, trying to ease the words with a cynical grin, “the odds were stacked very much in
not’s
favor.”

“Shit,” Tyler whispered.

With his free hand, Tyler rubbed his fingers across his forehead, a maneuver that hid his eyes from view. And the only other sign of his agitation was the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The sight left him looking brittle. As if, with a single touch, he’d break apart.

One wrist still in Memphis’s grip, Tyler dropped his free hand.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said, his voice sounding raw.

The sincere words came with a softening of his expression, and Memphis could barely restrain the hope the look brought. Unfortunately, the sympathy only increased the guilt constantly boiling inside Memphis by a million degrees, and he tensed for what he had to do next.

Jesus, he hoped Tyler decked him.

Memphis swallowed. “I know that doesn’t excuse what I did…”

Two pounding beats of Memphis’s heart later, Tyler pulled his wrist from Memphis’s grip.

“What you
did
?” Tyler said.

The words filled the air, and, as if by magic, Tyler’s expression shut down into that blank look that Memphis had come to recognize as a cover. But this time, there was no denying the emotion in his eyes. His gaze never left Memphis’s face.

“Christ.” The man’s harsh huff echoed in the marble bathroom. “We were happy. Everything was going great. And then I left for the weekend on a field trip only to return to find you
gone.
”

His tone made the sick feeling in Memphis’s gut swell.

Tyler went on, the words low and tight, brutal but true. “You’d removed your stuff from our apartment, Memphis.” A muscle bunched in his cheek. “From our
bedroom.
”

“I know, I―”

“You
left
,” he said again, and the silence that followed felt louder than any yelling could have been. “You left without a phone call or a letter of explanation.” With more force than necessary, he threw the cotton ball in the trash. “Not even a friggin’ Post-It note to say good-bye.”

Jesus Fuck-Me Christ.

Memphis fought the urge to close his eyes. All the apologies in the world could never undo what he’d done. But the words were all he had left.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“After fifteen months together, one day you were there, and the next you weren’t. You even changed your cellular number, so clearly you didn’t want me contacting you,” Tyler said. “And I had no idea
why
.”

Memphis cleared his throat, hoping to silence the hundred curse words clamoring to be the first one out.

Looking back, he wondered if he’d expected Tyler to track him down, to come after him for an explanation. In truth, he’d known the man too well. In college, Tyler had lacked the self-confidence to seek Memphis out, not when he’d so obviously been left behind. It had been a shitty move on Memphis’s part.

But, goddammit, he hadn’t known what to do other than
run
.