His Secret

42. Matías

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

MATíAS

Besides running to Adrian’s office to get my papers back, I don’t see much of him for the rest of the day. I have to stay late to finalize a few things and send emails, so he’s gone by the time I emerge from my office.

I end up driving to a Nicola’s pizza parlor to pick up dinner, and then make my way home. When I pull up, I spot Adrian in front of his house, looking for something in the backseat of his car.

I know I should just drive into my garage, close it, and head inside, but apparently I do things I shouldn’t quite a bit these days. Grabbing the pizza box, I walk into my driveway with the excuse of going to my mailbox.

Adrian turns and watches me, a grin on his lips. “Hello.”

I smile. “Hello.”

On my way back to the house, I stop midway, and he walks through the grass, stopping about five feet away from me.

“Pizza night, huh?”

“Yep. Didn’t feel like cooking.” I nod toward his car. “Did you lose something? ”

“Huh?” He glances behind him. “Oh. No, uhh?—”

His front door opens, and his wife’s head pops out. “Did you find it?” She notices me. “Oh. Hi!” she says cheerily.

I lift a hand and give her a tight grin. “Hi.”

She steps out, and I hear a low groan come from Adrian’s throat. He turns and looks at me, his face expressing his discomfort.

“How are you?” Charlotte says, coming to stand next to Adrian.

“Can’t complain,” I offer, giving a slight nod as my eyes bounce between the two of them.

I watch her eyes scan over the pizza box in my hand. Then she looks at me. “I’d still love to have you over for dinner sometime. Please tell me you have a wife or girlfriend, so I can have a friend, too.” She laughs but Adrian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable.

“Uh, no,” I say with a small smile. “I’m gay, so having a wife or girlfriend probably wouldn’t work out.”

Her eyes widen, and her cheeks turn pink. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem.”

My eyes find Adrian who clearly takes what I said as a direct message to him. It’s not what I intended, but.

“Well, either way. You could come or if you have a…significant other, he can come too. What do you think, babe?” she asks, putting her hand on Adrian’s arm.

He watches me for a couple seconds. “Uh. If he wants to, yeah, I guess we could put something together. Maybe just a barbeque. I could invite some other neighbors.”

Adrian’s trying to make sure this isn’t just us three, which would make for a very uncomfortable dinner.

“We’ll figure it out,” she says, waving his idea off. “We can’t do Friday. It’s date night. But Saturday might work. ”

Adrian shifts, eyes flickering to me. He looks like he’s ready to burst out of his skin.

“Saturday. I’ll keep it open. Thanks.”

She nods, smiling at me.

“See you tomorrow,” I tell Adrian before I walk back into my house.

Definitely shouldn’t have come out to talk to him. If I had just gone inside, I wouldn’t be invited to dinner, and I wouldn’t know that he and his wife have a date night planned.

Three hours later, around ten o’clock, my phone vibrates with a text message. Without looking at it, I know it’s from Adrian.

Hey

Hello

I know he’s reaching out regarding the whole date night comment, but there’s really nothing to be said. As much as it may hurt, they’re married, and will do married people things, even if he’s not fully invested.

Sorry about earlier.

Sorry for what exactly?

You know what.

It’s fine. I’m not supposed to be affected.

Doesn’t mean you aren’t.

It’s not even like you think. It’s just dinner.

Dinner is a date night activity, and again, don’t feel you have to defend yourself. It’s not me you owe loyalty to.

Well, that makes me feel like shit, and besides that, it still feels wrong.

We’re both aware that what we’re doing is wrong. Do you want to stop?

He doesn’t reply, and my stomach turns. But twenty minutes later, it finally vibrates.

Come out back.

I quickly put on my house shoes and make my way to the back door. I slide it open and step onto my patio before walking forward, searching the shadows for a familiar figure.

He appears around the collection of emerald-green privacy trees, marching up the couple of steps that lead to my patio .

“Do I want to stop?” he questions, throwing my words back at me.

My hands slip into my pockets as I stare back at him, but he rushes toward me, catching me off guard. I stumble a little when his body crashes into mine, but he holds on to me as his lips land on my own.

I take my hands from my pockets and snake them around his body as his tongue forces its way into my mouth. One hand goes to the back of my head, fingers tugging on the strands. I moan into his mouth as he grinds against me.

I end up pushed against the glass door behind me as his hands travel all over my body.

He pulls away from my mouth to say, “No, I don’t want to stop. I never wanted this to stop.”

With an exhale, I lean my forehead against his. “I know you’re going to have to do married couple things. That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt, but I understand it.”

He sighs before turning to stand on my side, his back now pressed against the same glass door.

“I know what I’m doing is fucked up. I think about it constantly, but I don’t want to stop. I don’t even want to pause while I get it sorted. I’m gonna try. I have to figure out a few things first, but I’m gonna try.”

I nod once. “Okay.”

“I should get back.”

He doesn’t make a move to leave. He just watches me.

“Yeah. You should.”

“I don't want to.”

“I don’t want you to either.”

He leans in and kisses me. This time it’s softer. When he pulls away, he gives me a small smile before walking away.

I can’t help but think that one of these days it’ll be for good. The trauma from the past still haunts me, and I know he’s capable of cutting me off for someone else.

With a sigh, I turn and head back inside. I knew starting something with Adrian wasn’t a smart idea. Not just because he’s married, but because he’s still in the closet. Because now there’s two reasons why he can never be with me the way I’d want.

But he’s my number one weakness, and I’m afraid there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to have even just a small part of him.