No Sacrifice Read online

  “I’m sorry,” Chance murmured, at a loss as to what else he could say.

  Patrick shook his head, staring around the room. “I don’t know how you do it, how you handle all the shit that gets thrown over it.”

  “Practice,” Chance replied, looking around the room. “And I can’t believe, in all these people, that you are the only person in a family this big that… well, you know.”

  “I’m sure I’m not. In fact, I’d bet a good half the single people here are bi or gay and just not willing to say so. I mean… with the kind of thing I just heard? Well, you can see why we’d keep it quiet.”

  “Yeah, true.” Chance took a drink of his beer. “Think you can hang out for a bit? I’ll sing a couple of your favorites.”

  Patrick gave a weak smile and nodded. “Next person to try to drag me away is getting a fist. I don’t want to hear anymore tonight.”

  Chance didn’t blame him. For all the shit he took from Gareth, the rest of his family was very accepting and, aside from his brother, going home meant he could be comfortable with who he was. For Patrick… well, that was far from the case, and Chance knew there wasn’t anything he could do to help. Not with family.

  But there was one thing he could do for Patrick. He knew going into the relationship that things could get rough when it came to Patrick’s family. Eventually, they’d sort themselves out, but until then, Chance needed to be patient. And Patrick needed to know he would be.

  He picked the guitar back up and gave himself a few seconds to go through the music and lyrics in his head. When he’d first heard it on the radio, it had hit him with the force of a freight train just how well it applied to the two of them, and he’d determined then and there he wanted to learn it for Patrick. It wasn’t easy to find time to practice something without Patrick knowing, because they still spent the vast majority of their days together. But Chance had found an hour here and there. When he was sure he had it firmly in place, he gave Patrick another smile and got ready to play.

  “This is a new one I’ve been learning,” Chance said as he started the first few notes. “It’s by Jason Mraz, and I’ve been practicing, but not for too long. So if I mess it up, you have to forgive me.” He looked up, then smiled and winked at a couple of Patrick’s younger cousins who’d been hanging on Chance’s every note all night. Three of the girls giggled.

  Patrick leaned in, unable to resist. “You’ve got a few fangirls.”

  Chance blushed and rolled his eyes. “Hardly.”

  Patrick grinned. “Sasha’s been moony-eyed over you since you started playing, and Lani hasn’t moved. Then there’s—”

  “Okay, okay!” Chance shook his head. “You’re horrible.” He glanced around and leaned in to speak in Patrick’s ear. “It’s a damned good thing I love you.”

  Patrick laughed. “Indeed.”

  Chance chuckled and straightened, sent one more look at Patrick that made him feel good, then started strumming the first few notes. Patrick didn’t recognize the song, but that wasn’t unusual. Chance was constantly surprising him with new ones, and the catalog Chance had in his head was huge. Patrick had no idea how he could keep track of it all.

  It started out normal—if pretty—enough. He liked the lines about comparing their eyes to sunrises and stars. But then the lyrics took a decidedly personal turn, and Patrick found himself, like he’d been the night at Sophia’s when Chance had sung “A Thousand Years,” lost to everyone in the room but Chance.

  Because he sang about not giving up, even if things get bad, if they get rough. Patrick could see in his eyes that he meant it when he sang about giving love. And then Chance went on to a verse about giving space when it’s needed, about being patient and waiting. And Patrick knew that it was directed at him.

  Chance was making it clear he’d wait. That no matter what Patrick needed, he’d always be there.

  Patrick had trouble breathing as the lyrics filtered into his brain. He knew, in the back of his mind, if someone gave it half a thought, they’d know Chance was singing to him. But despite what he’d heard, Patrick couldn’t care.

  When Chance looked away to focus on his fingers and frets for a moment, Patrick managed to take in a little bit of air. But the song continued, building on the promises already made, talking about not walking away, using their differences, making it all work, no matter what it takes. And underlying it, when Chance looked back, Patrick could see in his eyes the idea that they would make it, because they loved.

  Patrick wanted desperately to hug, to kiss, to do something with Chance after that. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Chance’s face, and he was sure if his mother spared one glance at him, she’d know how he felt about the man in front of him. But, like the song, Patrick couldn’t care. Right now, Chance needed to see how he felt, needed to know just what the song did for him. He hoped Chance could see it, how Patrick felt, the ridiculous pile of emotion he was trying so damned hard to wrestle into place.

  Chance’s smile spread slowly and he nodded, getting what Patrick was trying to say. They stared at each other for another moment; then Chance turned to thank the listeners for clapping. Patrick had completely forgotten for a moment where they were. He cleared his throat, then downed his bottle of beer. Then he held up the empty at Chance and escaped to get more.

  He tossed the bottle into the can at the end of the bar and leaned against the edge, waiting a little impatiently for his da to finish with one of his cousins. Was that a first? Or second? Patrick couldn’t remember.

  He stared off into nothing as he thought through the song and what Chance had been saying. Was he right to worry about being fair to Chance? His boyfriend had been through the whole coming-out thing. He knew how hard it was and understood the fear, the confusion, and the frustration.

  Patrick didn’t know what fair was, in the end. He knew he loved Chance. He knew nothing felt better than having that man by his side. He was a better father—a better man—with Chance.

  But that love also whispered to him that Chance deserved better than someone stuck in the closet. He deserved better than someone who may, in the end, have to choose between the greater part of his family and his love. And Patrick didn’t know for sure what he could choose.

  Could he choose Chance over his family? He didn’t know. Just the thought struck near terror in his heart. Could he walk away from his family?

  Could he hide who he was for the rest of his life? He didn’t know that either, and that alone wasn’t fair to Chance.

  “You look like you need one of these,” his da said, and Patrick shook his head to clear it, looking down to see one of their large shot glasses full of whiskey.

  Patrick picked it up and immediately smelled the difference. “What’s this, Da?”

  “That’s my special reserve. Your mama got it for me for Christmas.”

  Patrick nearly choked and stared into the glass. “Da, that’s over a hundred dollars a bottle.”

  “And you look like you need it. Drink up,” he said, pouring himself a similar shot and holding it up.

  Patrick held his up, then took a drink, savoring the flavor, which was quite different from what he was used to. It also kicked quite a bit harder, and he knew his da was right. He needed it.

  “So, want to talk about it?” Da asked.

  Patrick kept his eyes firmly on his glass. “Why is life so fucking complicated?” If it had been anyone else, Patrick wouldn’t get away with the language. Shaughn Tearney had told Patrick there were times to use language—though his mama had other ideas—but when it was just the two of them, that was one of those times.

  “Well, now, if I had the answer to that, I’d have a basement full o’ those bottles.”

  Patrick chuckled. “I guess so.” He took another drink and watched as his da built a Guinness for him. “I… I know you’re on Mama’s side,” Patrick began, taking a deep breath. “But the divorce was the right thing for us. I just wish people would just… accept it. Stop talking to me like
I got caught with my hand in the fucking cookie jar when I was five.”

  Shaughn chuckled. “To your mama, that’s exactly how she sees ya. She’ll always see her baby, even when you’re gray.”

  Patrick rolled his eyes, then paused. “I guess I can see that, though. I imagine it’ll be the same with Avery.”

  His da nodded. “Yup.” He set the glass of Guinness on the bar, then started building one for himself. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, though. I’ll never forget the day they put you in my arms at the hospital, all red-faced and pissed off at the world.” He chuckled and shook his head. “There are a million different memories like that I’ve got. But you know what?”

  “What’s that?” Patrick took another sip of the whiskey.

  “This’ll be added to ’em. And I can look at you and see you as a grown man. Your mama’s still dealin’ with that, in a way. So… give her some time yet. As for the others… hell, even your aunts and uncles. I say you just remind them that, really, it’s none of their business. Hell, it isn’t even really our business—your mama and me. But I’m not stupid enough to try to tell your mama that.”

  Patrick chuckled. “I’d be able to see that explosion back in LA.”

  “Ah, yup. No doubt. Which is why I wouldn’t say it. And I have to live with her, so I may not say much in front of her, but for the record… I think you did the right thing too.” He paused to take a long drink of his Guinness. “I’ve always loved your mama and, well, as far as I know, she’s always loved me. So it’s hard for her to wrap her head around something like this.”

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What else is wrong?”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow, but the look his da gave him told him he couldn’t, at least, claim there wasn’t. He sighed. “Nothing I’m ready to talk about. It’s… the more complicated part of life right now.”

  Shaughn nodded. “I can accept that.”

  They drank in silence for another few minutes. Patrick watched through the sliding glass doors as Chance sang and winked at his cousins. He found himself very glad Chance was gay and in love with him.

  “I’m not sure I know—or want to know—everything. And I’m only going to say this once, then swear on a stack of Bibles that I never did if you tell your mother.”

  Patrick looked up and raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

  “In the end, it doesn’t matter what I think or your mama thinks, how she feels about something, or whether she approves or not. It’s not her life, it’s yours, and you can’t live it for her. Even if that means it pisses her off and makes her cry an ocean. I’ll take care of that part. But you’ve gotta live for you—and Avery, of course—but for you.” He finished his beer and set the glass down. “And I never said that.”

  Patrick grinned. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Good. Now, take this to your… friend. He looks like he needs one.” Da handed him a bottle of Harp and tilted his head toward Chance.

  Patrick wondered about the hesitation and the look his da was giving him right then. But he couldn’t quite decipher it and, at that point, had had too much to drink to think too clearly. That whiskey was a bit stronger than he’d originally thought.

  As Patrick stepped back into the living room and took a seat next to Chance, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, someday he could walk in and kiss the man he loved as he sat down. Like his da did to his mama. Like Leia’s husband, Christian, did. He hoped so. Someday.

  He hoped he had what it took to get them there.

  Leaving seemed to be only slightly less chaotic than arriving had been. It didn’t seem to help that both Alana and Quinn were going home at the same time. So two cars—Alana and Quinn had come up from Honolulu together—had open doors and trunks as they loaded suitcases, instrument cases, and other stuff as they got ready to go.

  When Patrick and Chance were finally packed, the entire family had gathered to say good-bye. All except Noa. There was still a stab at the realization, and Patrick just didn’t quite understand why she was taking this so hard, but he’d e-mailed, he’d tried to call, and she hadn’t answered.

  Colin and his wife, Makani, went first, both wishing him well. Colin had been playing Switzerland with their mama, but as they hugged, he whispered, “I do think you did the right thing, man. I just gotta live near her, so I gotta keep those opinions to myself. But… it’ll work out.”

  Leia said something similar, surprising Patrick. “It’s hard being a mom and seeing your kids grow up. Mine are still young, but even at ten, you wonder where it went and want to keep thinking of them as babies. I know you understand that much.” Patrick nodded. “But even though I understand Mama… I don’t think it’s right what she said. Just give it some time. It’ll settle down, okay?”

  Patrick blinked at her, but she just smiled. “Thanks, Le. It helps to hear that.”

  Flynn was conspicuously quiet, but he at least wasn’t hostile. He still hugged Patrick, though there was no smile to go with it. Patrick frowned and considered his brother, but he couldn’t figure out what to say and settled on “See ya.”

  Quinn and Alana reiterated what they’d already told him. Quinn offered a beer and dinner if they ever stayed in Honolulu, and then he and Alana happily took off before any more fur could fly.

  And then there was Devin, the only sibling to show real hostility. Devin pulled him aside, away from the rest of the family while Mama and Da were saying good-bye to Chance and wishing him well. “I kept my promise and kept my mouth shut about you to Mama and Da. But I’ve been thinking, and I gotta tell you, Patrick, you need to just put this whole thing with Chance away. Forget about guys and stick with women or you’re going to really upset Mama, and….” He paused to shrug a shoulder, probably in response to the thundercloud facial expression Patrick was sure was on his face. “And it can’t be helping your career.”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Being willing to get naked with men doesn’t help me play a gay man on TV?”

  Devin scowled, but Patrick knew he couldn’t argue the point.

  “Look, I wouldn’t be surprised if it does something bad to Mama. She’s getting older, you know—”

  “Don’t. Don’t you even try that.” Patrick took a deep breath, clenching his fist in his pocket, and counted to five before he trusted himself to speak. “Just leave it alone. If you really care about Mama as much as you say you do, you’ll leave the timing to me for when I decide to tell them. As for the rest? You can go to hell, Devin. This is my life.”

  With that, he spun on his heel and headed back to the rest of the family.

  Da had a look that said he had an idea what they’d talked about, and the expression was similar to what he’d had the night before during their talk. He hugged Patrick, gave a nod, and went back into the house.

  Tutu moved in and took her turn. “I like him. He’ll be good for you.” With that she disappeared back inside too.

  Kalea stood in front of him, her face unreadable. “I do not like to tempt the fates to give us bad luck for the next year. I’m not… happy, but I love you. You are still my son, and that will never change.” She smiled. “No matter how angry I get.” She fingered the sapphire flower necklace he’d bought her for Christmas, the first time she’d worn it since he’d given his news.

  Patrick stepped up and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Mama.” He wanted to tell her again that he’d done the right thing, that he was in love with Chance, and that none of it had to hurt her. He said none of that, simply hugged her a little tighter, then let go and stood back.

  He took one more long look at his mama and the evidence that she was, in fact, getting older: the threads of silver in her long dark hair, the slight laugh lines around her eyes. But in those eyes there was still plenty of strength, and Patrick knew she wasn’t anywhere near through with this life, no matter what was thrown at her. He leaned in and left a soft kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you this summer.”

&nb
sp; “Be safe.” She kissed him one more time; then he turned to the car and climbed behind the wheel.

  Before they were half a block away, he had Chance’s hand in his. At the first light, they kissed. And he started to feel much better, much closer to normal… much more right.

  Patrick never gave much thought to having life in a normal pattern, but he had to admit routine was actually kind of nice. He enjoyed being back home, with the ability to simply worry about getting to the studio on time, trying to cook dinner, and wrestling Avery into a bath and his bed each night.

  He was also hiding behind it. The big scene with Rhys loomed, and despite what they’d already done in their last sex scene, he was very much not looking forward to this one. For one thing, there was so much more to this than the last one. And for another, with his determination to not actually go off on screen again, he worried about what Rhys might do to make that difficult.

  Because Rhys was still convinced he was in love with Patrick. Every time they were on set together, he made some kind of comment. Every time they spent a few minutes alone, he said it. And it didn’t seem to matter that Patrick didn’t return the sentiment. Or that he even argued it. Rhys remained insistent, and there didn’t seem to be anything Patrick could do. He felt bad that he kept having to reject Rhys like that, but Rhys refused to back down.

  And of course, any possibility of touching, Rhys took advantage of. The scenes they were in together nearly made him crazy. Rhys held Patrick as much as possible, kissed as deeply as he could, put everything he had into trying to show Patrick love, masking it in their roles. And of course, Jack loved it and encouraged it even more.

  The only saving grace was the fact that the majority of the scenes involving lovers and romance centered around building Nadir and Bathasar’s relationship. Patrick knew where they were going with it—pushing Cyrus’s jealousy—and the ability to be lighthearted and fun with Angelo helped a lot. Angelo was good at cracking jokes and going overboard with flirting, so Patrick could relax and focus on his lines and scenes a lot better. As opposed to the tense, frustrating moments with Rhys.