Read Talker's Graduation for Free Online

in love with someone than Brian was with
    Talker, but Tate… he‟d held on to that disbelief. His entire life, he‟d
    had to settle for hand-me-down clothes, pro-bono medical work,
    leftover love. He didn‟t trust that someone as beautiful, as true as
    Brian could serve up the real thing and not lord it over someone like
    Talker. But not Brian—Brian worshipped Talker because he thought
    what Talker had to give back was worth it.
    The man who had nearly decked his meal ticket hadn‟t done
    that because he was settling. The man who had said he hadn‟t
    lived until Talker had seen him—that hadn‟t been settling.
    Suddenly all of Tate‟s fears about not being worthy, about
    being a fuckup who couldn‟t graduate—they were all secondary. He
    opened the door again and closed it harder, so the bell would ring,
    and watched as Brian looked through the lit entryway and smiled.
    Tate met him as he walked forward in greeting, taking Brian‟s
    face in his hands—the scarred and the sound—and pulling him into
    his deepest, wettest, best kiss.
    Brian pulled back and blushed and smiled. “What was that
    for?”
    “For loving me,” Talker said. God. Brian really did.
    “Always,” Brian murmured, and they kissed again in Brian‟s
    holy place, and it was close enough to marriage vows for Tate to
    always believe.

    TALKER kissed him as they were getting dressed in their trunks.
    “What was that for?”
    Talker’s Graduation | Amy Lane
    31

    “For loving me.”
    “Always.”
    Talker smiled a little. The words had become their affirmation
    of sorts, just like an art gallery had become their holy place.
    “Hey,” Brian told him, “I’m going to go feed the guys, okay?
    You go ahead and catch the first few waves—I’ll be a minute. They
    looked like they needed some love.”
    Talker nodded and let Brian go take care of the four alpacas
    and three Merino sheep that they kept on the little spot of land next
    to their cottage. Sunshine the rat had died while Brian had been in
    the hospital, and Big Harry Nads, her replacement rat, had lived
    right until Brian had almost graduated. They had debated then—
    what next? Another rat? A cat? A dog? And then the opportunity
    had come to move here, their little cottage by the sea, the tiny
    haven of peace and heaven that Talker had never dreamed about.
    When Brian’s Aunt Lyndie had suggested they raise the
    animals to sell the fleece to local spinners/dyers, it had seemed
    perfect. They had the two cats, half-feral, half-affectionate, slinky,
    purring things that may or may not wake up on the foot of their bed
    or the hood of their car, but the sheep and alpacas had been…
    well, exotic, and sweet, and fun.
    Talker loved them—he could feed them and stroke them and
    they simply enjoyed him, and then baaad or bleated or whatever
    and trotted away. They were actually better company than
    Sunshine or Big Harry, and Talker would bring carrots or sweet
    grasses or oats and spend hours petting them, just listening to the
    wind and the surf and feeling that luxe, living fur of theirs under his
    hands.
    If he’d had any idea that he and Brian would have ended up in
    this little cottage right by the sea, he might have been more excited
    about the offer to move to Petaluma, actually. But then, Brian
    Talker’s Graduation | Amy Lane
    32

    hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about the offer. How were either of
    them to know that Mark was being completely sincere?

    THE show had been held in the reception hall of the library, which
    Tate had always thought sounded like a tiny room with gross
    carpeting and plastic chairs. It wasn‟t. It was called the Library
    Galleria, and it was a big, gorgeous ballroom with marble floors and
    arching ceilings and a second story level where people could
    wander and look down at the crowds below.
    It was beautiful, and the art being displayed there was even
    more so. Brian was one of three artists being showcased, and Tate
    Walker couldn‟t look at