Cherry Pop (Mercury Rising Book 3) (10 page)

“
S
it down
,” Tripp said, indicating the couch in the den. His mom had disappeared upstairs to watch TV after they’d helped her clean up the kitchen. Ben hadn’t protested. He’d known as well as Tripp that they needed privacy to talk. Tripp would have liked to do more than talk, but he wasn’t counting on it, not tonight.

“I’m not staying long,” Ben said. “Just long enough to tell you to stop starting rumors in town about us. And also to tell you that you need to think long and hard about the choice you’re making so cavalierly.”

“What choice?” Tripp asked, sitting at the other end of the sofa. He wasn’t going to crowd Ben. “And I don’t know what cavalierly means.” He might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but he knew this conversation was crucial if they were going to move forward.

“Your choice to be gay,” Ben explained. Tripp didn’t care for the way he said it, as if Tripp were a child who didn’t know what he was doing or saying.

“So ‘born this way’ doesn’t apply to me?” Tripp asked tightly. “Just because I haven’t been out there sleeping my way through the male population of North Carolina I can’t be gay? I’m just some crazy kid who got a damn fool idea in his head?”

“Yes,” Ben said, his voice just as tight. “Because according to rumor, you were sleeping your way through the female population of North Carolina instead.”

“I’ve slept with a handful of women, it’s true,” Tripp said. “But not one of them made me feel the way you did the other night.”

“That could just be because they weren’t any good at it,” Ben said. “Not a sign that you’ve been doing the wrong sex all this time.”

“For some reason you are determined to see this as black or white,” Tripp argued. “I didn’t go into this blind, you know. Hard to live on the grid these days and not be aware of the sexual revolution taking place everywhere you look. I don’t have to be this or that only. I can be anything I want on the scale. So maybe I don’t sit exactly on the gay mark. Maybe I’m in the gray area in between. But I can tell you that after meeting you I haven’t wanted anyone else. I can’t even remember anyone else. So if my meter was swinging before I met you, it is now definitely stuck on gay.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Ben exclaimed, clearly exasperated. “There had to be some indication before now of your sexual preference. It’s not an overnight thing.”

“Maybe there was,” Tripp said, shrugging. “Maybe I missed the signs. Maybe I wasn’t that interested in figuring it out. Sex has never been high on my priority list, which was something I should have picked up on, I suppose. If I was doing it the way we did, I sure as hell would have been thinking about it night and day, like I am now.”

“I think what’s happening at work and in your life has you confused,” Ben said, obviously trying a new track. “You’re projecting. You feel like you’re stuck in a rut at work, forced to do a job you don’t like, your future planned out for you, so you’re exploring and experimenting in the only area you can—sex.”

“You’re wrong,” Tripp told him. “I’m not stuck in a job I hate. I love construction. Yeah, I’m worried about taking over and what that’ll mean for me and the company. There’s a lot of weight on my shoulders trying to maintain the success of a business started by my granddaddy and built into a huge corporation by my father. I feel that. But I’ve got years before I have to take charge. I already know I’m going to do it different than my daddy does it, who does it different than his daddy. But if I wanted to walk away, I could. I’ve got cousins who could take over. Hell, family friends could do it. Nobody’s forcing me. Every now and then I need a pep talk, but who doesn’t? But if I wanted to go off and go to clown school, or drive a bus, then I would. I’m doing what I want to do.

“Think about it, Ben. I’m under a lot of pressure, and right now, yeah, I’m doing a part of the job I dislike but that has to be done. Welcome to adulthood. I know
you
don’t like every aspect of your job. But the fact is, now is not the time I’d choose to experiment, as you call it. Adding one more thing to my plate of stress is not what I’d choose to do. And you are stressful, Ben. If I wanted to experiment, I’d sure as hell choose someone who wouldn’t argue with me every step of the way.” He sat back on the couch and crossed his arms, glaring at Ben, who seemed stunned.

“I guess I never thought about it that way,” Ben finally said. “So, okay, I concede. You’re gay, or at least into guys. But you’re pushing too fast, Tripp. It doesn’t mean that you have to be in love with the first one you’re attracted to.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t be, either,” Tripp countered. “Hell, it doesn’t mean anything right now, does it? Because you won’t let it. Can’t you even give this thing a chance? Give me a chance? I don’t want to push, but I want to try this. Can’t we try?” He wasn’t above begging. He’d never been very prideful. If you wanted something, you did what it took to get it.

“I’m leaving, Tripp,” Ben said. He looked away. “Maybe if things were different, but they aren’t. My life is not here in Mercury; it’s in L.A., and when this job is finished I’m going back.”

“What life did you leave behind?” Tripp asked. Was there more to Ben’s old life than he knew?

“
My
life,” Ben answered, a little evasively, Tripp thought. “It’s where I’m from, where I live, where my friends live. I like my home there. All my things are there. I was going to get a cat. My favorite Thai restaurant is there. They don’t even have a Thai restaurant here. Concerts at the Hollywood Bowl, the occasional Dodgers game, Disneyland. I
like
L.A.”

Tripp didn’t know what to say to that.

“Maybe I don’t have a significant other there anymore,” Ben went on, gaining steam. He stood up and began to pace. “But I don’t need someone else to define who I am or my life. I’m fine just as I am. I’m Ben, and I’m from L.A. That defines me. So don’t ask me to stay just because you’ve never wanted to have sex with a guy before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But I’m not that great, Tripp. I’m not kinky, or freaky, or into the club scene. I’m a regular, run-of-the-mill guy with a desk job and bills to pay, bad fashion sense, poor cooking skills, and a sensible car. I just happen to be gay.”

“Whoa,” Tripp said, standing up too. “Not true. You
are
great. You’re a great guy, gay or not. And maybe I like regular guys who aren’t into looking like fashion models, cooking food I can’t pronounce, or driving fast cars. Ever think of that?”

“You don’t know what you’re in to,” Ben said dismissively.

“So far, you’re the only thing on my list,” Tripp admitted. “That’s true. Look, I don’t want to redefine you. Hell, I don’t want anyone’s identity to be based on me or our relationship. I have enough problems with my own identity. I just want to be together. If you want no strings attached, I can do that. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do want to explore. And right now I want to explore with you. Is that so crazy? Because you
are
the first guy I’ve been attracted to, and you just happen to play for the same team.”

“There are always strings, Tripp,” Ben said. “Whether they tie us together or just tie us to some big ass regrets that we drag around forever, there are always strings.”

“Are strings always a bad thing in your world?” Tripp asked, his heart heavy. It just seemed more and more like he’d never convince Ben to be with him.

“Yes,” Ben said. “Eventually they drag you down and it becomes impossible to move forward.”

“Maybe, eventually, we all have to stop moving on,” Tripp said. “Maybe those strings don’t drag you back, but anchor you. Ever thought of that?”

“Says the man in permanent dock in Mercury,” Ben said sarcastically. “Mercury is a web of strings, it seems. First John got stuck here, then Brian. And there’s you, Evan, Luke, and just about everyone else I’ve met here, who can’t seem to break free either, stuck here since the cradle. Even Connor made it back here after everything he went through.”

“That’s a good thing,” Tripp told him. “Connor would have wasted away if he hadn’t come home, and you know it.”

“Connor came back to find the family he lost,” Ben said. “What about your family? What are they going to think about you being gay?”

“You already met my mom. The rest of them will pretty much follow her lead.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Ben said. “I know Connor didn’t have it that easy when he came back. Maybe it was why he left in the first place. What about you?” Ben asked, facing him across the coffee table. “You told me you wanted to break free of Mercury, ride the trains and escape.”

“Sure,” Tripp said honestly. “All the time when I was younger, and even a few weeks ago when I first came back from Myrtle. But it was always more about what I should want than what I do want. Everyone told me, a guy like you, you should want to get out of this little town. You could go anywhere; you could make it anywhere. You shouldn’t stay here. And I’d feel like I was doing something wrong, staying, that maybe I was wrong to want it. But I’ve come to realize that I can’t let others’ expectations be my guide. I’m the only one I have to sleep with at night, you know? So I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do and let everyone else do the same. Maybe I will leave someday, if the right reason comes along. But if I do, it will be because I want to and the time is right.”

“We would never work out,” Ben said abruptly.

“Why?” Tripp asked.

“You don’t know how to fight,” Ben said. “You’re too logical and well adjusted. No one should be so well adjusted at twenty-two. You’re a freak.”

“I just had biscuits and pie,” Tripp told him. “It makes me amiable.”

“I’m leaving,” Ben said, walking toward the archway that led to the front entrance. “I can’t go ’round and ’round like this all night.”

“Okay,” Tripp said, wondering where they stood. His head was spinning and he needed to think about all the stuff Ben had thrown at him. “Want to go riding in the morning, before work? I can swing by around six.”

Ben opened the front door and then stopped. He turned around and looked hard at Tripp for a second or two. “Yes,” he said. “Tell your mother thank you for dinner.”

“See you in the morning,” Tripp called out as Ben closed the door. He managed not to grin until the door was shut.

* * *

T
ripp whistled
as he scrolled through the budget spreadsheet for the Myrtle Beach job. He chuckled when he realized what he was doing. He was pretty sure he’d never looked at spreadsheets with a smile on his face before. But the bike ride this morning with Ben had gone well. They’d laughed and had a good time. They hadn’t discussed their relationship, what it was or wasn’t or where it was going, and when they’d parted they’d made no plans. But Ben’s relaxed attitude alone was a positive sign.

Suddenly Tripp’s office door crashed open.

“Why the hell did I have to hear about your new boyfriend from Willy Beeson and not from you?” his dad demanded, slamming the door. “And you had to pick an outsider? Not that I don’t like Ben, but what about Carver? You’ve known him forever. You could be gay together, couldn’t you? Plus, he’s already got a little girl. Think of your mother.”

“What does Melody have to do with Mama?” Tripp asked, his heart hammering. He’d played it cool about his dad finding out, but he was nervous as hell to have this conversation. Trust Dean Junior to slam in and have it out.

“Naturally she wants grandbabies,” his dad said. “She was born to be a grandmother.” Tripp thought of his mom and the way guys reacted to her, which was not even remotely close to the way they reacted to grandmothers. “And you can’t go hightailing it off to California. You’ve got a business to run.
My
business.”

“Make up your mind,” Tripp said. “Either it’s your business, or I run it.”

“You know what I mean,” Daddy said, refusing to be sidetracked. He rubbed his chest and winced. “I’m supposed to make sure I tell you that I don’t care if you’re gay. Tell your mother I said that.” He sat down in the chair facing the desk.

“Got it,” Tripp said wryly. “I’ll report.”

“Well, it’s true,” Daddy said defensively. He leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath as he rubbed his shoulder. “Would have been nice to hear it from you, though,” he said. It was the closest thing to a whine Tripp’d ever heard from him.

“Sorry.” Tripp got up and went to lean against the front of the desk, facing his dad. “You’re right. I should have called and told you what was going on.” He thought of all the awkward conversations they’d had in the past about girls. “Did you suspect I was gay?”

“Your mother did,” he told Tripp. “But we didn’t think we ought to come right out and ask, since you didn’t really seem like you were trying to hide anything. And I guess I was hoping she was wrong.” He stretched his neck out and rubbed his shoulder some more. He winced again and Tripp got concerned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, standing up.

“Nothing,” Daddy said. “My shoulder hurts. Runs right down into my chest. I must have pulled a muscle.” He was starting to sweat, and he sounded out of breath.

“Daddy,” Tripp said, trying not to panic. He reached back on his desk, shoving papers out of the way as he looked for his phone. “I think you’re having a heart attack.”