Page 121 of Dare You To Love Me


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“Absolutely, Ciaran. It was downright selfless of me, because I had nothing to gain. At specific intervals, I’d casually mention Theresa to Stefon. It kept her on his mind without actually ever meeting her. I told him all about you, about your swimming, your excellent grades, your interest in becoming a writer.”

“Except you were grooming Ciaran the entire time,” I shouted.

Andy rose. He was smart enough to keep the statue on his person as he paced his apartment. I followed his movements. Through the open windows, the half moon was low in the dark sky. I finished my glass of wine and put it down on the coffee table with a sharp clink.

“I kept my dick in my pants the entire time,” was Andy’s sole rebuttal to my accusation. “You know me, Matthias. That alone is a fucking herculean effort for me. I mean, look at Ciaran.” Andy pointed. “Even at fifteen, he was fucking glorious. Now?” His voice became strangled. “I can’t even describe it. It’s like I need to own him.”

Jumping to my feet, I charged Andy at the window but stopped short of actually placing my hands on him.

“Let’s call the President of the United States to see if you can be awarded the Medal of Honor for not raping a child.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty, Matty.” Andy’s face twisted as he let out an angry laugh. “I know about the two of you. Fuck, just the fact that Ciaran lets you touch him is enough to infuriate me. You! Ciaran is pure, perfect. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a slut.”

The insult meant nothing to me, but I still contemplated pushing Andy out onto the balcony and letting gravity do what gravity did best. He’d be nothing but a splat on the concrete below. But I knew Ciaran would ever speak to me again if I acted on this impulse.

“Enough,” Ciaran choked out. I spun around. He was sitting by himself on the couch, head in his hands. My anger popped like a balloon. I was a complete asshole. Softly, Ciaran added, “Both of you just…stop. I’m not some damsel in distress nor is my virginity a prize to be won.”

Ciaran was absolutely correct. Andy and I were waving our dicks around like we were in a stupid sword fight.

“I’m sorry, Ciaran,” I said as I rejoined him on the couch. I placed a hand on his thigh and I heard Andy curse as he sat opposite us. The statue was lying sideways in his lap.

Ciaran looked up. There was a lifetime of shadows under his eyes. Instead of leveling his attention on me, he focused on Andy. “Got it. So you felt you were acting selfless, at least in the beginning.” Ciaran let that sink in. “For three years, you talked about us to Stefon. How’d you keep them from meeting? If he knew who we were, he could have come to the deli at any time.”

Andy nodded as if he were pleased with Ciaran’s question, but there was a dark glower in his eyes. Andy was on edge. He wasn’t happy with how tonight was progressing.

“Stefon, for all his egotistical ways, is profoundly monogamous. Granted, many of his relationships were short-lived, but he was against dating more than one person at a time. Matty can attest to his father’s abhorrence of cheating.” I didn’t exactly want to agree with Andy on anything, but in this respect he was right. My agreement was a single nod. “Stefon organized those orgies when he was single. All I had to say was that Theresa was in a relationship and that was enough.”

Andy emptied the wine bottle into his glass.

“And then, one day, you were like, ‘Hey, guess what Stefon, Theresa’s single’?” Ciaran asked. I didn’t miss his flippant tone.

“Give me some credit. I’m much more subtle than that.” A faint smile played on Andy’s lips. “Stefon was hosting an event in Vegas, but his normal caterer had unexpectedly been arrested on charges of theft and embezzlement. Poor guy,” Andy laughed as he downed the wine in two large swallows.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce Andy had something to do with that.

“Jesus,” Ciaran interjected. “You could have just brought Stefon to the deli, Drew.”

“Where’s the fun in that? It needed to be authentic when I suggested I knew a caterer. Theresa always had the right contacts to put together a posh event. It couldn’t seem like I was orchestrating things, even as I casually mentioned she was single. I was, however, surprised when Stefon texted me after the event that he’d fallen head over heels and planned to propose marriage. My hope was that they would date for a year or two, to get you into UCLA, Ciaran. I never expected Theresa would become Mrs. Vaulteneau or that you’d move to Malibu within a matter of days.” Andy let out a humorless laugh. He lifted his empty wine glass. “I salute your mom’s good fortune even as I curse her for taking you away from me.”

“Fuck you,” Ciaran shot back. “You don’t know my mom at all. Men felt they had the right to proposition her all her life. She wasn’t the ‘mistress’ type. But you set up Stefon to say all the right things when he met my mom. Stuff about my ambitions, college dreams, everything. Your plan worked beautifully and it backfired spectacularly. Karma, bitch.” Ciaran stood and towered over Andy. “It’s a good thing they are truly in love. My mom has never been happier. I feel sorry for you, Drew.”

Andy jerked his head up. “That’s a dumb thing to say.”

“Instead of developing meaningful relationships for yourself, you spent years pulling strings and obsessing over someone you could never have an honest relationship with. You flattered me and showered me with gifts and fake affection. For you, it was about control. For me, it was wanting to be loved and appreciated. Those two things are never compatible. Love is about partnership, about being equals, and acceptance. Love doesn’t manipulate. Love doesn’t come at the expense of hurting other people. Like I said, your plan worked—it got me into the college of my dreams—but it came with the expense of hurting me. I don’t forgive you Drew—Andy—whatever your name is, but I do feel sorry for you.”

Andy came to his feet, standing face to face with Ciaran. They were close in height, with Andy being an inch or two taller. Andy, however, was a fully grown adult and much more robust than Ciaran.

“You will regret saying that,” Andy spat in Ciaran’s face.

Andy’s expression morphed and I knew he was about to strike out at Ciaran.

My muscles tingled and every cell in my body was itching for a fight.

Andy was never one who enjoyed being bested. He wanted to be the best, and in control, of everything.

It was then I realized the statue was lying on the couch behind Andy.

I rushed forward.

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