Revving It Up Box Set Page 13

  God, can I just stay here and not catch that flight?

  Life wasn’t perfect, but it was perfect enough.

  Why have kids and mess it all up?

  * * * *

  Sebastian poured the pancake mix in the pan, then sipped his coffee. Caleb’s text appeared as he drank; Caleb was boarding soon, and Sebastian couldn’t resist and texted back several heart emojis, partly because he wanted to remind Caleb he loved him, partly to annoy Caleb who had grown to despise the use of emojis.

  I miss you already, Sebastian texted. You should’ve waked me up.

  It took a while for the response to light up his cell: You’re beautiful when you sleep so I didn’t want to wake you.

  Sebastian smiled. He wanted to respond. Something cheeky? Something dirty? But before he had a chance to, their roommates walked into the kitchen. Tristan had bedhead, and was dressed in a white T-shirt, blue pajama bottoms, and a red plaid robe, his eyes struggled to remain open while Olivia, his twin, was already dressed for work in black silk blouse, a tan jacket that showed her wasp-like figure, and sensible khaki slacks.

  “Caleb leave for the airport?” Olivia asked, as she pulled her hair back and placed a scrunchie for her ponytail.

  “Yup. He’s boarding now.”

  “What’d he think of the adoption idea?” Tristan asked as he sauntered over to the coffee pot and poured himself some java before getting a mug for Olivia.

  “He’s mulling it over, I think he is anyway. He was kind of surprised I showed him the brochures yesterday so I think he was in shock that I talked about it.” Sebastian replied as he flipped the hotcakes. “Want some?”

  “Sure, if you have enough, I’ll have some.” Olivia opened the cupboard and grabbed some maple syrup as she took the offered plate of pancakes. “Does he know you talked about this with us before you brought it up?”

  “No. I didn’t.” Sebastian paused before he continued. “I made plenty of mix by the way, Tristan.” Sebastian poured more batter onto the hot griddle.

  “I’ll pass. I don’t need the carbs. I might be doing some go-sees later today and I don’t want to look bloated…So he was totally shocked, huh?”

  “You don’t look bloated. You look anorexic, if you ask me. Is that the new look? And, yeah. He mumbled that we just got married and Caleb said the timing on having kids wasn’t right. Then I kinda flew off the handle.”

  “Why? We practiced what you would say, and how to say it?” Olivia chimed in. “What did you say?” Olivia asked.

  “I told him that if we used timing as the basis for having kids and having a family, we’d never have one and it was selfish to think that way.”

  “Shit,” Tristan whispered. “What an asshole thing to say.”

  “I know,” Sebastian said. “I regretted what I was saying as soon as the words spilled from my mouth.”

  “Well, I told you not every man wants to have kids. And you guys never really talked about it before getting married, right?” Tristan asked.

  Sebastian stared at his phone. Tristan was right. Caleb and he never talked about starting a family. Sebastian had never brought it up before they got married. “I have to text Caleb.” Sebastian texted Caleb more heart emojis. “So, these go-sees, anyone in particular?”

  Tristan shook his head. “Couple of commercials. There might be some calls for the fall—online catalogs—I’m not exactly sure…now. And stop changing the subject.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m still processing Caleb’s reaction. I appreciate you guys helping me—get my thoughts together on the issue of kids.” Sebastian sighed.

  “No worries,” Olivia said. “What are old high school friends for? Besides being roommates in the city that never sleeps?” She laughed. “Seriously though, maybe you want to take baby steps on the adoption issue. No pun intended.” Olivia hugged Sebastian.

  Sebastian squeezed Olivia’s arms as she stepped away from him, and then Sebastian took the spoon Tristan used for his coffee and put it in the sink. “Fall clothing? But it’s only May,” Sebastian said.

  “Hmmm, Tristan. Sebastian doesn’t want to talk about making us favorite babysitters for any family they will start.” Olivia scrunched her face. “Okay, I guess we can drop it for now. By the way, who does Caleb have a shoot with? If you told me, I forgot. Considering my mind has been focused on another issue that we cannot talk out.” Olivia stood and placed her now empty plate in the sink as she sipped her cup of joe.

  “He’s got the watch company flying him out for another series of print ads tied to Formula One racing. I’m pretty sure I told you.”

  “It’d be nice if he could hook me up with a job,” Tristan sighed.

  “Honey, you’re haute couture. He’s fitness and sport.” Olivia laughed. “You’re in different lines of modeling.”

  “There’s not a big difference these days.” Tristan pouted. “A lot of the fitness models are doing the runways with us. Maybe not Caleb, since he’s a niche model, but it’s not out of the question.”

  “If I hear anything, or Caleb hears anything, we’ll let you know.” Sebastian placed a pancake in front of Tristan who promptly shook his head.

  Tristan’s long blond locks covered part of his face, as he mouthed a “no” to the buttermilk flapjacks when Sebastian pushed the plate toward him. Tristan raised his right arm and snaked his long feminine fingers over his head as he brushed the hair out of his face. He lowered his blue grey eyes to his own cup of coffee. “You guys are trying to fatten me.”

  “No, we’re not. You need to eat. Right now, I think my waist is bigger than yours and that’s not right,” Olivia said. She approached Sebastian and air kissed his cheek and did the same for Tristan. “I’ll see you guys later. Let me know if we’re grabbing drinks or dinner with your friend that’s coming to visit. Just text me, okay? Especially if we’re meeting mid-town.”

  “Okay. Have a great day. Try not to rip your boss’s head off,” Tristan said.

  “I’ll try not to,” Olivia quipped. “You try to get a better paying job and help pay the rent, Tristan.”

  “Bitch,” Tristan whispered into his cup.

  “I heard that,” Olivia yelled as she grabbed her purse.

  Sebastian chuckled as he scarfed down a pancake doused with maple syrup. “I’ll text you later.”

  They were both quiet for a few seconds after the front door closed then Tristan spoke. “So this friend of yours and Caleb’s, is he famous?”

  “Only in NASCAR.”

  “Would I know him? I mean, would I recognize him?”

  Sebastian shook his head. He wiped maple syrup from the corner of his mouth before he sipped his coffee. “Doubt it unless you’re a racing fan.”

  “Is he hot?”

  Sebastian laughed. “First of all, he’s straight. He’s about six one, and has red hair. He’s built like a linebacker, almost.”

  “Ooh. I love gingers.”

  “Yes, he played football in high school, and I think college. I’m not sure, but trust me you are barking up the wrong tree if you think he plays for our team.”

  Tristan sipped his coffee. “That sounds like a challenge to me. Do you know how many supposedly straight guys aren’t straight?”

  Sebastian sighed. “Oh my God. If you get him to sleep with you, I’ll be very impressed.”

  “Impressing you doesn’t help me. How about we bet on it?”

  “Bet?”

  “If I get him to sleep with me, or anything sexual, you’ll pay my part of rent for the month.”

  “And what’s in it for me?” Sebastian asked.

  “Same thing. But you have to give me a wide berth and not interfere. Let me use my model charm on him.”

  “I think you’re going to lose this bet very easily. If he leaves New York City and he hasn’t even let you whack him off, you lose.”

  Tristan narrowed his eyes and offered his hand. “Deal.” When Sebastian accepted the bet and they shook on it, Tristan adde
d, “I hope you put my rent money in an envelope pretty soon because your friend will be putty in my hands.”

  “We’ll see,” Sebastian chirped. “You know Jerry’s nickname is Cujo, and he’s just like a mad dog.”

  Tristan tsk-tsked. “No interference, remember?”

  “I’m just saying. Good luck, you’re going to need it.”

  Chapter 2

  “Fuck,” Cujo swore. He circled the street again and didn’t see the parking garage Caleb had told him about. Cujo’s admiration of the skyscrapers he had seen in the distance as he left New Jersey for New York had dissipated once he navigated the city’s streets. His GPS didn’t give him any idea where one could be found even though Caleb had said it was only two city blocks away from the Chelsea brownstone. Cujo figured that the concrete jungle he found himself in prevented his phone’s mapping system from giving exact turn-by-turn directions. Hell, even the sun seemed obscured by the buildings right now. He’d already figured out where Caleb and Sebastian’s apartment was situated. That was easy. The art gallery landmarks Caleb had mentioned stuck out. Their apartment was two doors down from a Chinese restaurant. Or at least it looked like it was a Chinese restaurant to Cujo. It had Chinese characters advertised on one sign.

  What the hell was dim sum anyway?

  Holy shit. I still can’t find this fucking garage.

  Cujo pulled over, turned on his turn signal, then called Sebastian. He ignored the honking cars. Luckily, Sebastian answered his cell.

  “Dude, are you here?” Sebastian asked.

  “Yeah. I’m trying to find this garage.”

  “Where are you? I mean what streets?”

  Cujo scanned the street sign and double-checked his GPS. “I’m on West 25th, a block from your apartment. Double parked by the way.”

  “The garage is like five blocks away. Did you see any street construction?”

  “No! What construction?” Cujo asked, his voice slightly rose. “Can you come down and show me?”

  “I’m at the market buying stuff for dinner tonight. Olivia’s working later than she thought so I figured I’d make dinner. Tell you what, I’ll get Tristan to show you where the garage is.”

  Cujo flipped off another driver who was laying into his horn. “Fuck off, man!”

  “I texted Tristan to come and show you the garage. Be calm. This is just how New Yorkers are.” Sebastian laughed.

  “Really, because the next guy that pisses me off here…” Cujo took a deep breath. “I’m gonna stay calm for the moment.”

  “What are you driving?”

  “I drove my pickup truck. What else would I be driving?” Cujo asked.

  “Okay, hold your horses.” Sebastian’s voice trailed off. “Okay, I just texted Tristan. He’ll be out in a sec. I’ll just stay on the line ‘til he gets there. How was the drive into town?”

  “You know if I didn’t hate flying, I would’ve flown. Driving around here is awful. How millions of people want to live here is beyond me.” Before Cujo could continue, a figure appeared. At first Cujo thought it was a woman, but once the face peered through the window and tapped on the glass, Cujo shouted, “Hey, are you Tristan?”

  “Yes.”

  The decidedly masculine voice confirmed what Cujo thought, and he unlocked the automatic door.

  “Sebastian told me you needed help.”

  Cujo nodded. “Hey, Sebastian, I got Tristan in the truck.”

  “Okay, see you soon.” Sebastian said.

  Cujo took Tristan’s offered hand. “I’m Jerry.” Cujo didn’t know why he gave his Christian name to Tristan. Every friend of his called him Cujo. Anyone that Cujo cared to spend time with anyway.

  “Tristan.”

  “So where’s this garage?”

  “I’ll show you. First head south four blocks, and then make a left. They’re doing some construction for sewer pipes down there. And some traffic is being re-routed for the subway restoration.” Tristan buckled himself in and as soon as he did, Cujo eased out into traffic.

  “So how long have you lived here?” Cujo asked.

  “Been in the city for about two years. But my sister and I lived in Jersey for a couple years before moving here. So, how do you know Caleb and Sebastian?”

  “Grew up with Caleb. His brother, Garrison, and I are best friends. Caleb’s like a little brother to me.”

  “Olivia, my sister, and I, have known Sebastian since high school. We all graduated the same year. So when Sebastian said that Caleb was going to work here, it was great timing. Our roommates had left and we needed help with the rent.”

  “Rent pretty expensive here?”

  Tristan smiled then drooped his head a little, fingering his long hair so part of it threaded behind his left ear. “Super, super expensive. We lucked out though because our landlady likes us. And I think she has a crush on Sebastian so she didn’t raise our rent. Kept it the same. I mean she could charge more.” Tristan paused. “The neighborhood’s getting more expensive, but I guess she likes her tenants and doesn’t like change too much. I’m not complaining. Olivia thinks she might raise the rent on the next tenant.”

  “So you’re not in a coop or condo then?”

  “No. I wish. One of the apartments in the building is empty because a pipe burst over a year ago, and she never rented it out because it’s been taking so long for the city to approve permits to fix the pipe and take care of the mold in that unit. Olivia and I thought about asking to move there because the bedrooms are a little bigger than what we have now, and I know Sebastian and Caleb want privacy.”

  “Caleb talked about staying longer here in the city?”

  Tristan remained silent for a moment. “Not Caleb. But Sebastian wants to stay here. That I know. He’s even talking about adopting.” Tristan pointed. “Here, make a left.”

  Cujo turned. “Adopting? Seriously?”

  “Go another block. See that sign there?”

  “Yeah, I see it.” Cujo turned on his blinker and entered the garage. “This isn’t what Caleb told me. He said that the garage was two blocks south of the apartment.”

  “Yeah as the crow flies maybe. I don’t think Caleb knows his way around the city yet. I take it by the way you acted you’re shocked about them adopting.”

  Cujo followed the one-way signs, scanning for empty parking spots. “Does Caleb want to adopt?”

  “I have no idea about Caleb. I know Sebastian’s been thinking about it awhile. And I know they’re talking about it. Or at least Sebastian is hoping Caleb will want to have kids. Sebastian was more of a homebody when we were in school, so I’m not surprised. He rarely did anything but swimming after school. If Olivia hadn’t become best friends with him, I probably wouldn’t know he existed.”

  After circling the garage, Cujo sighed. “Well, I guess, we’re headed up to the roof. I don’t see any covered spaces I can fit in.” Cujo spotted Caleb’s pickup truck on the roof and parked next to it. “Hey, look at that. He’s still got the Youngblood Racing sticker on the rear bumper.

  Once Cujo parked the truck, unbuckled his seatbelt, and stepped out, he mumbled. “Shit. I should’ve dropped my luggage off at the apartment.”

  “I can help.” Tristan grabbed the duffel bag from the back seat and grunted as he tried not to lose his grip. “Wow, this is heavy.”

  “Here, let me have that. If you can carry the small backpack, that’d help out a lot.”

  “Here, let me have that.” Cujo grabbed the duffel bag and heaved it over his shoulder while he handed Tristan the backpack. “Is it quicker to take the subway to your apartment or walk?”

  “Walk. The next station is a block south from here. And it stops five blocks north of our apartment.”

  “Okay. Lead the way!”

  Down on the street, Tristan pointed. “Are you sure you can walk all the way back with that?”

  “Yeah, this is nothing.”

  “Wow, you’re, a strong man.”

  Cujo laughed. “So what do you do fo
r a living?”

  “Well, when I don’t work at the local coffee shop for tips, and minimum wage, I model. Or at least I try to nab a modeling job in a city with a million pretty faces.”

  “Yeah, like Caleb?”

  “Well, kinda sorta, but not really. Caleb’s more of a fitness, celebrity model. You’ve seen him in GQ and Esquire. Right? Hawking a watch, or perfume or something. Most of the models who do those spreads for magazines, and magazine covers are celebrities. Print advertising sells more products when a known personality is hawking it. Cover Girl, for example, has Ellen. I usually do runway shows if I can get booked. I booked a show for New York Fashion week last year, and hopefully I can do it again. But, models here in the city are pretty commonplace. I swear I’m not even sure why I keep trying. I’d probably be out on the street if I didn’t work as a barista and if it weren’t for my sister.”

  Without thinking, Cujo blurted, “Well I think you’re very attractive, so I’m not sure why you’re not booking a lot.” When Tristan’s face reddened, he broke eye contact. “I mean for a dude, and all.”

  “Oh,” Tristan whispered.

  They walked the next two blocks without saying anything. Cujo winced. Tristan seemed like a nice, sweet guy. He hated that awkward feeling that weighed upon him like a heavy blanket. “I hope I didn’t offend you by the last comment.”

  “No, not at all. I appreciate the compliment. I wish more straight guys like you weren’t afraid to compliment other men. When other gay men do it, it’s usually only for one reason.”

  “I’m sorry about that. If it means anything, I have no problems with gay men, gay women, or transgender folks, even though I’m a professional NASCAR driver, I’m not closed-minded, and I don’t think I’m a bigot.” Cujo paused. “I don’t see why people have the need to treat others who are different like shit.”

  “Wish everyone was like you.” Tristan walked ahead of Cujo because the sidewalk narrowed. “Did you always think this way?”

  “No. I mean my folks weren’t religious. I didn’t take anything my dad said seriously anyway. My dad was an alcoholic, and my mom well, even though she was raised to read her Bible every night, she stopped going to church and she never drummed hate into me. The Youngbloods employed my father and I knew before I learned what the word meant that Caleb was gay. Around seventh grade Garrison and I always made sure no one messed with Caleb because that’s when the word got out that Caleb liked other boys. He got caught messing around with another boy after Pop Warner football one day. Man, that incident got Caleb tossed out of football. That’s why Caleb never played football in high school even though he probably could’ve been on the team.”