Hurricane Reese Page 15

  “Speak of the devil herself,” Jude said as he noted that Tita Gemma had just pulled up in her Chrysler to pick up the kids. The momentum was going, and he really wanted to just get it over with.

  “I’m going to follow you,” he told Bailey and Brianna as they grabbed their things. They looked at each other in shock and then looked at Jude.

  “Now? Like you’re going to tell them now?”

  “Yeah, Bailey. Because if I wait, your big mouth will probably blab it all over town.”

  Brianna elbowed Bailey, and he gave her his most innocent look.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” Jude walked to the car with them and leaned in to give Tita Gemma a kiss.

  “Is Tito Rommell home? I need to talk to you both.”

  “He should be home. Yes. Is everything okay, dear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I just need to speak to both of you.”

  She looked worried, but he didn’t give her time to ask questions. He waved to his siblings, who stared at him with wide eyes, and then he hurried to his car. He texted a friend from class to be sure he could get the review notes, and then he texted Reese.

  Not sure when I’ll be home. Time to tell my family. See you soon.

  Then he prayed.

  REESE RECEIVED the text from Jude and tried not to obsess over it. Was he really telling them? Seriously coming out to his family? It was a huge step, one he knew Jude had only partially made up to that point. He felt a little guilty knowing he was likely doing it because Reese was so damn pushy, but in the long run, it would be better for him. Reese came out as queer and then pansexual while still in high school and didn’t care who knew it. Luckily he’d never suffered any adverse effects from it—other than Grandpa’s smartass comments. He hoped the same would be true for Jude.

  He felt empty returning to the house alone. Not seeing his grandfather in his chair or having Jude there… he couldn’t stand being without the two men who meant the most to him. So he decided to call number three and see if he was back from his trip.

  “Well, hello darling. It appears you’ve been up to no good lately, if TMZ is to be believed. Do I need to come over? Bring the vodka?”

  Reese laughed. His songwriting partner and best friend was always way over the top, but he had an amazing storytelling ability and understood Reese—his music and his desires.

  “Yeah. Get your ass over here. I need to have a few drinks, and I need to bend your ear.”

  “Sounds like trouble in paradise. Grandpa okay?”

  “He’s in the hospital. He’s okay, but yeah. I’ll tell you the rest when you get here, so get here.”

  He hung up before Toby could ask any more questions. Then his stomach growled and he figured he’d better eat something before he started drinking.

  He’d asked Jude to be his partner—somewhat clumsily—and the guy had practically run away. Reese knew it was too soon, but he couldn’t help how he felt. Maybe Jude thought he was just upset about his grandfather, or maybe Jude imagined that Reese just wanted someone, and it didn’t matter who. But none of that had anything to do with it. Reese wanted Jude in his life permanently, and that was it.

  Toby must have driven like a madman, because he arrived from Santa Monica in less than twenty minutes, despite commuter traffic. He flung the door open and marched right into the house.

  “Where are you, you big blond surf god? I adore this place. We could have such fantastic beach parties. We could go all Frankie and Annette Beach Blanket Bingo insanity!”

  Toby found him in the kitchen finishing his leftover pasta and kissed him on the cheek. Then he thunked down a jug of booze and a carton of orange juice. “You talk, and I’ll pour,” he said gesturing over his shoulder. Toby’s domestic goddess within must have known exactly where Reese kept the glasses. He poured them both stiff screwdrivers and opened the fridge to look for something to use as a garnish.

  “Forget it. Just come sit. You’re making me dizzy.”

  Toby never hid his flair, opting instead to dazzle the rest of the planet with his odd clothing choices. He embraced his color blindness and often put the most interesting combinations together. That day’s ensemble included a pastel-pink polo with maroon pants rolled up to show yellow socks with his ankle boots. He worked it, though. You had to hand it to him for that and the recently bleached blond hair slicked back from his forehead.

  “How was Fiji, or Bali, or wherever the hell you went on vacation?”

  Toby had been gone for what seemed like weeks. He hadn’t noticed how long it was because of his current upheaval.

  “Hot. Moist. Lots of rain. So what’s the scoop? What’s going on with Jada?”

  Toby appeared to be avoiding a subject, which would have alarmed Reese had he been in a clearer state of mind. Instead he let it go.

  “History. I got back from London, and she threw me out. Thank God.”

  Toby clinked glasses with him. “Hallelujah. That girl was more drama than me, and that’s saying something.” He walked over and lifted a lock of hair off of Reese’s forehead.

  “What the hell did you do to your face?”

  Reese felt his cheeks go red as he thought about his slip in the shower. So much had happened since then.

  “So if it wasn’t her that made you finally cut that beastly hair,” Toby said, “who can I thank?”

  Reese smiled and took another sip of his drink. “I’m so far gone I need a defibrillator.”

  Toby paused with his hands on the table, seemed to pick up on Reese’s gloomy mood, and made a tsk-tsk sound.

  “I’d say you were in rebound love if you had something real with Jada. I know, I know. You thought you did, but honey—”

  “I know. I’ve heard the Toby Griffiths sermon on this topic many times, over the past two years. Heard you loud and clear.” He laughed and took another sip. But he concentrated on not getting drunk, because Jude would be back. He didn’t want a repeat of the other night.

  Toby sat back, crossed an ankle over a knee, and propped his arm over the back of the chair. “Someone has got you all tied up in knots, my dear. I recognize this,” he said as he waved a hand in an elaborate circular motion. “But I’ve never seen it on you before. Who is she?”

  He’d called Toby for a reason. The guy was a soap opera waiting to happen, but he knew his shit. He knew people. He was a genius—Mensa candidate and everything. He’d been all-but-dissertation in Psychology when they met at UC Santa Bonita. He was the same age as Reese but so much more accomplished. They’d said, “Fuck it all,” and started writing music together and then the musical. Toby was Reese’s yang… or yin. Something. He’d see through all of Reese’s bullshit.

  “His name is Jude. You’ve met him. He’s Grandpa’s caregiver.”

  Toby squinted at him before his eyes about jumped out of his head. “You mean that beautiful Filipino boy who works here? Oh gawd. Tell me everything. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a boner by proxy.”

  So he did. He told Toby all that had transpired, including his drunken attempt at seduction. At which point Toby hooked his fingers around Reese’s glass and slowly slid the drink away from him.

  “So you’re in love with him,” Toby said, cutting through all the bullshit.

  “Desperately,” Reese finally admitted out loud. “I love him like I never thought possible. And he has no idea what to do with me.” He barked out a laugh.

  “Who would? My friend, you are a grade-A disaster when it comes to relationships, and yet, you’re the greatest catch of them all. No one I know loves deeper, cares greater, or gives more of himself than you. And you’re hotter than the sun. But you’re so much. And he’s, what? Twenty? Twenty-one? Barely? He’s just a baby, although he certainly seems like he’s got his shit together.”

  “He’s twenty-two, and he’s not totally out. Not to his whole family. And he seems to think it’s going to be a major problem. You know me. I don’t give a shit about what anyone else thinks, but I don’t want him hurt.”


  “Of course you don’t. Oh, honey. I want this for you. But you’re a fucking bull in a china shop. I don’t see you having the grace to pull this one off.”

  “Then tell me how, oh guru of all things,” Reese said sarcastically.

  “Have you hooked up yet?”

  “Well, uh—”

  “Oh, shit, Mr. I like who I like. You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

  “I really fucking don’t. I just want him.” Reese dropped his head onto the table, and Toby patted him as he would a child.

  “Oh, cheer up. Maybe he’ll, I don’t know, see past all of that and love you back. It could happen.”

  Reese looked up at him and groaned. “Now can I finish my drink?”

  Toby picked up Reese’s glass and made a performance of walking over to the sink and pouring it out. “Enough booze for you. You need a clear head. Now, when is our boy expected back?”

  “I don’t know. He said he needed to tell his family. What do you think that means?”

  Toby smiled. “I think it means little Jude is stepping the rest of the way out of the closet. This is a good thing. But are you ready for a whole ginormous Filipino family?”

  Reese cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  Toby rolled his eyes at him. “What do you mean, what do I mean? You know he has a big family, right? Do you know anything about Filipino culture?” When Reese shook his head, Toby sat on the kitchen table cross-legged in front of him. “Well, first you should know that they likely won’t be super ecstatic about his change in status. They’re all about keeping the kids home until they’re married, and then they want babies.”

  “I’m okay with babies. I’d love to have a baby.”

  “Wrong plumbing, babe.”

  “I know that, dumbass. But seriously. I love kids. I’d love to be a father.”

  “That’s good. No, I know you’d be great. But. Then there’s the Catholic thing. What about marriage? What about your grandfather? Like, what are your thoughts about all of this?”

  Reese sat back and put his hands to his head. “I think I’ve got a headache. Pass me some Advil, would ya?”

  Toby reached behind him to the pill basket where Grandpa kept his meds. He handed Reese the pills and his own glass. Reese popped the pills in his mouth and tried to wash them down, but the vodka made him choke. He started coughing, and Toby pounded on his back.

  “Cough it up, honey. You’ll survive. Now come on. Why don’t you play some music for me.”

  He jumped down off the table, and Reese followed him into the living room. They both sat down on the piano bench.

  “Before Grandpa fell and landed himself in the hospital, we’d made some progress. I’ve got three songs so far that I want to include in the show. I think they’re all a part of his journey with the girl on the—”

  Reese stopped in his tracks. The story. Grandpa had admitted to having a homosexual encounter with a boy back in his Las Vegas days. Reese hadn’t been dreaming. The story about meeting Grandma on the street corner hadn’t been the whole truth. It didn’t change the way he felt about their love story, but there was a whole other story taking shape in his mind. He needed to think on it more before he told Toby about it. They were still at the songwriting stage, anyway.

  “You going to finish that thought or leave me hanging on to your last syllable? You know, this haircut looks fabulous, by the way. Ernie do this for you?”

  Reese nodded absently as he played the opening notes to the first song. He hummed along until he got to the chorus.

  That fire, you there with that fire

  My heart longs to be warm beside you.

  But that fire, you keep that fire

  Away from me

  How long must I wait

  To be warm next to your fire?

  He played it through again and smiled to himself when Toby started bouncing a leg, tapping his fingers, and with his other hand, making curlicues with his finger in Reese’s hair. It was just something Toby’d always done while they worked together. He thought nothing of it until he heard the door open behind them and turned to see Jude with a hurt look on his face.

  “Jude. It’s good to see you, darling. Come on over here and see what Reese’s got cooking.”

  Toby had the wisdom to stand from the bench and gesture for Jude to sit down where he’d been, dissolving the thick tension in the room. He had a knack for reading a situation and making it better. He always had.

  Jude shut the door, moved slowly to Reese’s side, and carefully sat down on the bench next to him. Toby moved behind them and placed his hands on both of their shoulders.

  “Now play it again, Reese. This time I’m going to add in the harmony.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  JUDE’S STOMACH hadn’t yet released the knots that had formed when he walked in and found another man playing with Reese’s hair. He recognized him from previous visits. Toby had flirted with Jude, but he didn’t reciprocate because he felt it would be highly improper. Reese obviously missed it all because he’d been doting on Jada at the time.

  But if Jude were honest, those knots had been there since Bailey admitted he’d told Brianna that Jude was gay—which led to his visit with his aunt and uncle and a phone call with his parents.

  He cursed the fact that he’d shown his family how to use Skype so they could video call each other while his parents were in the Philippines. That meant everyone got the news all at once, which was better, he guessed, than his parents finding out from his aunt and uncle. But oh, what a nightmare.

  “You don’t know what you are saying, JJ.”

  “You’re too young to know how you feel.”

  “But what about grandchildren?”

  “JJ, the church teaches us that….”

  They were relentless. Jude finally gave up trying to answer. It didn’t matter anyway. They had their own opinions, and none of them were happy about the situation. But at no time did anyone mention disowning or disgrace, so he counted that as a partial win.

  There was nothing more he could do that night, so he lost himself in Reese’s soulful voice and enjoyed the way it mingled with Toby’s to make a joyful noise. Their cadence mimicked the singers from his grandfather’s era, but with a few more vocal theatrics. Toby’s voice climbed to an incredible height and then dropped back down to join with Reese’s.

  “That is some beautiful shit right there, Matheson. We’re going to slay them with this show.” Toby made a production of checking his watch. “Oh, look at the time. Darlings, it’s been real, but I have a date.” He air-kissed Reese’s cheeks and then gave Jude a wink. “Make sure you get some beauty rest, you two. Exfoliate. Invest in a mask, Reese. Those circles under your eyes are causing me to fret. Good night and good luck.”

  Once he was out the door, Reese shifted on the bench and turned to look at Jude. “Please tell me it wasn’t awful.”

  Jude laughed and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I wouldn’t exactly say awful. Grueling maybe? Exhausting? Uncomfortable, like a bad case of hives?”

  Reese stood and straddled the bench. “Here. Turn around. Let me.” Jude turned his back to Reese and relaxed into his touch as Reese began to massage his shoulders. Surprisingly it was a little easier to talk like this.

  “My parents decided to come home for Christmas. They’re going to stay for six weeks this time, probably letting Tito Francisco get a taste of caring for my grandparents full-time. I think they’re going to see how it goes, and if Tito Francisco is okay with it, they’re going to stay for good. That will be great for my brother and sister.”

  “How do you feel about them coming home? How did they take it when you told them?”

  Jude slumped a little, his body so wrung out from talking that he could barely hold it up.

  “The short version is they’re very concerned about me. My mother knew, of course, but she had to pretend like she didn’t so as to not upset my father. He cried, Reese. He cried and said he m
ust have sinned to have a son like me, but that he’d pray for me and pray on what to do.”

  Reese wrapped himself around Jude from the back, and that was the only thing that kept Jude from breaking down. Then he thought about what Tita Gemma said, and he laughed.

  “What? Oh God, Jude. I promise it will be okay, I’ll—”

  “No, it’s okay. I was just remembering what Tita Gemma said. She wondered if it was true what they said about white men and their big feet and hands.”

  Reese snorted behind him. “Wow. Okay.”

  “Yeah. And you’re coming to dinner with me Sunday night. That was an order from my tito. He didn’t say much, so I don’t know how to prepare you for any of this.”

  Reese turned Jude to face him. “I’m coming to dinner?”

  Jude nodded, worried. “Please. They want to meet you and make sure I’m not mentally ill—that we’re really in a relationship together.”

  Reese smoothed a hand over Jude’s hair and smiled. His eyes fluttered closed. “God, that sounds so good to me. Come here.”

  Jude was pretty sure that was the last coherent thing that was said between them. Reese’s kiss was like a potent drug. It drained all the worry out of Jude, as well as his need to be in control. He wanted to be closer to Reese—skin-to-skin. He whipped his shirt off and then tugged at Reese’s while climbing onto his lap. They couldn’t get close enough to each other in that position, so Reese lowered them to the floor and had Jude’s pants unfastened, it seemed, before his back hit the hardwood. Reese’s eyes grew darker with lust as he tore away at the last barriers between them. He used those giant hands to caress Jude until he thought he’d climb out of his own skin. Never had he felt so frantic and desperate with a partner.

  Then Reese replaced his hands with his lips and tongue. “I want to taste you,” he said. Then he swallowed around Jude’s cock until Jude cried out for relief, but Reese would provide none. He demanded and demanded from Jude, and Jude cried out Reese’s name as his body shuddered and trembled. Reese took all of him and groaned his own pleasure at Jude’s release.