Streak - 3. Chapter 3

August 30, 2002

Chicago

 

Brad

 

We could hear the music from the bar below, we could hear people in the street talking as they walked by, and we could hear the banter of the guys in line waiting to get in. It was all just so much white noise to me, as I sat there at the table with Cam, getting to know him, and appreciating his handsome looks.

“You smoke?” I asked, as I pulled out a joint.

He chuckled. “Oh yeah.” That cracked me up, so I lit the joint. “That’s actually how I became friends with Matt.”

“Really? Weed brought you together?”

“It did. He’d given me a pretty nasty hit at our hockey game, and even before that, he’d been such a douche on the ice we didn’t really get along. But we were at a party, and when I came outside to smoke a cigarette, he was there with one of his friends getting high. He offered me a hit, and that was when we actually had our first conversation.”

I inhaled, then passed the joint to him, and watched as his sexy lips wrapped around it, damn near giving me an erection. Wow. I shook that off. “It’s kind of weird to be here with you, since you were with Matt, and he’s like a son to me.”

“The only way it could possibly be weird is if you were hitting on me,” he said. I kind of freaked out at that, since I was, until I saw him grinning at me.

“So that would be weird?”

“I said it could possibly be weird.”

“Did you think I was hitting on you?” I asked, tossing it back into his court.

He took another hit off the joint and seemed to ponder that. “I think that maybe you are.”

“Does it seem weird to you?”

He looked at me playfully. “No.”

“So it’s OK if I hit on you?”

He smiled at me. “It’s OK.”

“Good,” I said, smiling back. There was something about this guy that was really compelling. I was really enjoying myself, and really enjoying him, until I remembered that I was almost forty, and he was only twenty-two. “I guess it’s creepy, though, since I’m almost twice your age.”

“It’s not creepy at all,” he said. “I like that you’re older.”

“You have a daddy complex?” I teased, making him laugh.

“Hardly. Most guys that are my age are really immature, and they end up fucking me over.”

“Tell me about these guys.”

“You don’t want to hear about my pathetic love life,” he said.

“At least you have one,” I said, even though I got laid periodically.

“You met Josh, the guy who runs Spartacus?” I nodded. “We were together for a while, for about eight months. I caught him banging some dude in the bathroom of a bar.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He shrugged. “The guy before that was worse. We were together for over a year.”

“Why did you break up with him? Or did he break up with you?”

“Why would anyone break up with me?” he asked, pretending to be conceited. It was cute.

“I can’t think of a single reason,” I said, getting a big smile from him.

“He was positive.”

“Are you positive?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “If I were, would you still hit on me?”

“I would,” I said. That was something I could live with if I liked the guy, and if he was honest with me. “But it bothered you that he was?”

“It bothered me that he was and that he didn’t tell me,” he said, which pretty much mirrored my big issue. “And he didn’t tell me even though he barebacked me.”

My mouth dropped open. “I don’t blame you. I’d have dumped him like a rock too.”

“The guy before him was into controlling me. He kept tabs on everything I did, and everywhere I went. He actually broke up with me when I called him on it.”

“You haven’t had much luck with guys,” I said, shaking my head.

“And Matt was before that. He was fun, and we were good together, but I loved him and he didn’t love me. Plus we went away to different schools on opposite sides of the country.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. It was such a useless platitude, but I didn’t know what to say. “What about now?”

“Now, I’m single, and I have been for a month or so. I like it, but it gets kind of lonely.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “I was with the same guy, with a few unpleasant lapses, for over twenty years. When he died, it fucked me up worse than I could imagine. It took me a while to get over that.”

“But you did?”

“I did,” I said. “I’ll always love him, and I’ll always have my memories, but I’ve moved on. He told me to, before he died. He’d be pissed at me if I didn’t.”

“That was Matt’s father?”

“That was Matt’s father,” I confirmed.

We sat on the deck, talking, having a blast. We could see through the clear skylights into the apartment below, and had a great view of the elevator. I noticed that the door opened, and Will came out with the bartender. They vanished into Will’s room. “That’s Devon,” Cam said.

“I met him earlier. What’s his deal?”

“He’s a really nice guy, even though you wouldn’t know it from his attitude when he’s bartending,” Cam said. “He and I are friends.”

“He’s almost as handsome as you are.”

“Now I know you’re lying, because I haven’t seen many guys hotter than Devon, and I’m sure as fuck not one of them.”

“You sure as fuck are,” I disagreed.

“Thanks,” he said, and actually blushed a little bit. “Will is safe with him. He likes Will.”

“I think Will likes him too,” I said. About fifteen minutes later, Will and Devon went back downstairs.

“Break’s over,” Cam joked, cracking me up. The elevator doors opened again, and Stef came out, with a really handsome brown-headed guy.

“I don’t know who that guy is,” Cam said. “I kind of wish I did though.”

I laughed. “Not me. There’s only one brown-headed guy I’m interested in.”

“Looks like everyone’s getting laid except for you,” he said.

“I’m not complaining,” I told him.

“Let’s go downstairs,” he said. I was pretty disappointed when he said that, because I was totally happy here, talking to him. The last thing I wanted to do was go down to the massive party scene that was Spartacus. I’d probably lose him as soon as we got there. But there wasn’t much I could do about it.

“Alright,” I said unenthusiastically. We walked down the stairs, and I headed toward the elevator, until he stopped me.

“I wasn’t thinking about the bar, I was thinking about here,” he said. He moved in close to me, and I instinctively wrapped my hands around his waist, while he put his hands behind my neck, and pulled me into a kiss, a really nice kiss, a mind-blowing kiss.

“Wow,” I said when we finally broke it off.

“You’re good at that,” he said playfully.

“So are you.”

“That’s how I can tell if I connect with someone, if they’re a good kisser,” he said.

“You don’t just go for the fuck?” I joked.

He smiled. “I don’t. I’m unique in the gay world. I pretty much have to get to know a guy before I fuck him.”

“Damn,” I said, pretending to be disappointed.

He kissed me again. “You know, just because I won’t let you stick your dick up my ass doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” he said, in his sultry voice.

I really grinned at that. I didn’t say anything; I just led him into my room and locked the door. I was learning to do better with that. Before he could say anything, I started kissing him again. We made out even as we pulled our own clothes off, not in a frantic way, but in a very slow and deliberate way. When we were down to boxers, I led him over to the bed, slid his off, then mine, and pushed him back onto the bed. He had a really nice dick, about seven inches long and on the thicker side. It seemed even longer because he’d trimmed his pubes down to just nubs.

I lay down on top of him, jamming my cock against his, and started to thrust against him. “Oh yeah,” he moaned. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his lips against my neck. God, I loved that. On and on we went, frotting, and it felt so good. And then suddenly, he whispered loudly into my ear. “Oh God, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Fuck yeah,” I growled and gnawed on his neck, and that set him free. I could feel him writhing and spasming underneath me, and I took him along until he lay there, spread-eagled and spent.

“Hot,” he said, grinning at me.

“I want to taste you,” I said, and I knelt over him and started with his abs, licking his cum off of them, moving slowly lower until I got to his cock. “You taste so good,” I cooed, then took his dick into my mouth and sucked the last bit of his load out.

I grabbed a towel and wiped myself off, then lay next to him. I tried to be calm, and just snuggle up to him, but I was too crazed.

“You’re fucking huge,” Cam said, as he stroked my dick.

“You afraid of a challenge?” I taunted, making him giggle.

He moved down and licked the head of my dick while his eyes locked on mine. “I love a challenge.” He lowered his mouth down slowly, really slowly, taking as much as he could, and then he started to bob up and down, altering his pace to keep me on edge.

“My turn,” I said urgently. I expected him to pull off, but he didn’t. Instead he jammed my dick as far down his throat as he could. I yelled, literally yelled, as I blasted my load down his throat, and felt the muscles at the back of his mouth squeezing my head and massaging me along. Then it was my turn to collapse, totally sated. “Damn. That was good.”

“Told you we could have fun without fucking,” he said.

“You were right,” I said. After I had sex, I was pretty vulnerable. I needed a guy to hold me, and make me feel loved. It used to bother me that I was like that, because I thought that made me seem like a big pussy, but I’d finally accepted that it was just part of who I was. Guys who I really had great sex with, who clicked with me got that. Chris Mendoza figured that out, of course. But Cam did too. He pulled me up to him, under the covers, and made me put my head on his chest. I felt his fingers gently running through my hair, and I felt more content than I had in a long long time.

He looked at the clock. “Things are probably just picking up downstairs, if you want to go check it out.”

“I’ll go if you want to,” I said, even though the last thing I wanted to do was leave him and this bed.

“I’m happy here,” he said.

“So am I,” I told him, and moved my head up so I could kiss him again.

“So are you a top or a bottom?” he asked.

“I’m versatile, but I usually end up topping more,” I said.

“I’m versatile, but I usually end up bottoming more,” he said, chuckling.

“I like both,” I said, opening up to him. “I like to top better. I can only really bottom for a guy I like.”

“But you can top a guy you don’t really like?”

“I can,” I said. “I don’t, but I can.”

“I can’t really do either unless I really like the guy,” he said.

“Are you and Matt OK?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject. Even though I didn’t want to think about him and Matt, I needed to know.

“We’re good,” he said confidently. “He was the first guy I fell in love with, and I think I’ll always have a weak spot for him. When he showed up here, he was so damaged that he scared me, because I thought he was going to hurt me all over again. I guess I was damaged too. I didn’t give him credit for growing up. It was nice, it was good, and now it’s over.”

“I really like being with you,” I said, opening up to him just as much. “It kind of freaks me out that you two were together, and that you’re so much younger than me, but that’s pretty much outweighed by how much I like you.”

“I’m glad you like me,” he said, flirting. “I like you too.”

 

August 30, 2002

Concord, CA

 

Zach

 

I saw the coach walking down the hallway, and almost laughed at how scatterbrained he seemed. Coach Ladouceur was really an amazing guy. We were allowed to call him Coach Lad. I guess all those other syllables were tough for the brain trusts on our team. I’d had lots of coaches, and they ran the gamut from being totally hands-off with no control, to being little Nazis that yelled and screamed all the time. This guy wasn’t like that at all. This guy was a thinker. His head was down as he walked, and I could see his lips moving even though no words were coming out as he talked to himself. This was the guy that had led our team to a #1 ranking in the nation by USA Today. This was the guy that was responsible for earning, maintaining, and extending our 125-game winning streak. He hadn’t lost a game since 1992. He was revered here at De La Salle, and nowhere was that more obvious than now, when he walked down the halls, and the students made way for him like he was Moses parting the Red Sea.

He got up to me and I fell in step next to him. He gave me a sideways look, and one that wasn’t all that pleasant. I hadn’t realized that he had mandatory practices set up for much of the summer, and I’d missed all of the July sessions. He’d been really pissed about that. I’d explained that I’d gone to camps and shit, but he said that didn’t make a damn bit of difference to him. He wanted me here, learning to play with my team, not with a bunch of other guys. So he’d been pretty annoyed with me, and that hadn’t faded all that much. “What do you want, Hayes?”

“Nothing Coach,” I said pleasantly. “It’s just easier to walk with you.” I was pretty good at sucking up to coaches. Ladouceur had been harder, but I’d get him to like me.

He gave me a slight smile, and then we continued on to the locker room, neither one of us saying anything. No other high school had practice on Friday afternoon, but De La Salle did. It wouldn’t be all that grueling, but he made sure we didn’t miss a day. I could tell how much this streak weighed on his mind. He didn’t want to be the guy who ended it, and we didn’t want to be the team that fucked it up. It was a lot of pressure on all of us.

I could see why he’d be worried too. We had a new quarterback, Cecil, who seemed pretty fucking good, but he’d never really been tested. We’d lost a bunch of our best players last year when they graduated, and the guys that were left were pretty raw. I felt like an experienced sage in the locker room. Not only that, but we didn’t really have a lot of size, and that made me nervous, and it probably made the coach nervous. I was the biggest running back on the team, at 6’1”, so I had the size, and I’d worked my ass off to be agile and fast. I was confident that I could do my part. I knew what I was capable of. I just didn’t know what to expect from these other guys.

And that’s when I figured out why the coach wanted us to practice together, so I’d have that answer, and so would everyone else. I was a little pissed off at myself for missing that opportunity, an opportunity to make myself a better player, and to make our team better. Just a little pissed off. I knew that I could pull my weight on this team. I wouldn’t be the one who let everyone down. Even on a bad day, I’d be better than pretty much all the other dudes on the team. I rolled my eyes, thinking that if anyone could get in my brain and see what I was thinking, they’d think I was a fucking prima donna. They’d be right. I worked hard to be good. I sacrificed a fuck of a lot to be able to perform on that field and I delivered, not all the time, but most of the time.

That whole attitude made me aloof, and that forced people to keep their distance. It was a lot easier to fuck with everyone’s mind if they didn’t know me all that well. The coach and the assistants had smacked me down pretty fast, or so they thought. I hadn’t really changed, I just had to be less obnoxious about it. They wanted us to be a cohesive group. They didn’t want any divas. So I had to play into that, be a good little team player so all these other douchebags could be happy and sing Kumbaya with each other. Fuck that. I didn’t need any of them to prop me up.

I got to the locker room and changed into workout gear. We weren’t scrimmaging; we were just doing fitness drills, so that was pretty easy. Our weightlifting was at 5am every morning except Friday, which sucked at first, but now I was used to it. I got up early, beat the traffic, and then got to go home before the traffic picked up again. I went to bed early, which was pretty lame, but it was my job, so I did it.

I didn’t really talk to any of the guys around me. I was usually like that: pretty quiet, and I stuck to myself. It’s not like I wasn’t friendly. If someone talked to me, I’d respond, but that was it. I didn’t do more than that because I really didn’t want lasting friendships with these guys, and because if I let myself relax too much, I might just fuck up and give it away that I was gay. There was really only one guy that I felt that close to, but he was on his way to Chicago right now.

I’d always been like that, even as a little kid. I’d always had one person who was my world, who I trusted completely, and I let my true self out to, more or less. Up until this past year, that person had probably been my Mom, but since I’d moved away, we weren’t as close. Now that person was Will, and I was even tighter with him than I had been with my mother. She didn’t know I was gay and she didn’t know how freaky I could get in bed. That made me grin and think about Will, and I almost started to throw wood in the locker room. Normally the smart thing to do was to have a bunch of friends, to diversify, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t trust many people, so I only trusted one.

I jogged out onto the field and the coach told us to run laps, so I did. I thought about Will, and what he’d be doing tonight. He’d be going to the grand opening of Spartacus, and he’d probably meet some dude and hook up with him. I felt the jealousy raging through my body, combined with the anguish of knowing that the man I loved was with someone else. I felt myself picking up my pace, really ripping up the track. Negative emotions were like fuel, and could give me power, but positive ones were stronger. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any of those today.

It would be easy to blame Will, to call him a slut, and to demand that we just get with each other. With my new strategy of being a bible-thumper, I’d pretty much shut down on my extracurricular fucking around. I couldn’t risk being with another dude, because he might out me, and I couldn’t risk being with a chick, because it would blow my religious cover and she may just tell everyone that I couldn’t keep it up. But it wasn’t his fault that I was so devoted to football, and it wasn’t his fault that I couldn’t be his real boyfriend and see him all the time, so I lived with it. I didn’t have to like it, but I lived with it. I ran harder, using the physical adrenaline rush to dull the pain. By the time the coach called us over, I’d lapped all the other guys.

We finished our light Friday workout, then we hit the showers. I kept to myself even more in there, making sure not to look at anyone, and making really sure that I didn’t get hard. “You going to the party tonight?” one of the linebackers asked me. He was a nice enough guy, named Vasquez.

“No. Got bible study,” I said, pretending to be enthusiastic in that stoned way that religious zealots had. I’d thought it would be kind of fun to see if I could fuck with these guys and get them to believe my act. Instead, it had turned out to be really easy, because most of these guys were total tools.

“Have fun with that,” he said sarcastically.

“Thanks. It’s good for me.” I just gazed into his eyes with my spaced-out look, the one that said I thought going to a prayer meeting was as much fun as shooting a load. The biggest challenge with this religious cover was not laughing my ass off while I was doing it.

I walked out to my blue Durango, smiling at what an awesome SUV it was. Will had bought it for me last year, when I was stuck in New Jersey and had no way to get around. He’d jumped in and bailed me out. I’d gone to the dealer and picked out the cheap, entry level model, thinking that was pretty trick, but he said I needed a blue one to match my eyes, and had spent a shitload of money to get me the top end model.

“Hey Zach,” I heard a female voice say. Alyssa Price: she was a total slut, so much that she hung out here after school to ‘talk’ to the guys.

“Hey Alyssa,” I said in that same stoned way I’d just talked to Vasquez. Normally I’d be getting my game on and flirting, but my Jesus Veil was so much easier. “How’s life?”

“Could be better,” she said, and stared at my crotch.

“You should come to bible study class with me,” I said earnestly.

Her eyes bulged a little bit when I said that, because last semester, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have talked about bible class. “I’m not seeing that.”

“If you ever change your mind, let me know,” I said, as if getting her to come to our meeting, and saving her soul was the most important thing in my life. She shook her head and walked away, while I smiled, got into the Durango, and left. I’d thought this would be so hard, but it was so easy it was scary. Shit, if it was like this in college, I’d have no problems at all. I wondered if this is what it was like in the NFL too. Did Kurt Warner get off by having a big dick slammed in his ass? Is that why he was such a zealot? I called them the Touchdown Christians, the ones who made the dramatic gestures toward heaven when they made a good play. I wonder how many of them were closet cases just like me. Probably a whole bunch of them. Maybe I’d have to try that sometime, to see if I could fuck around with a fellow bible thumper football player. That was probably a bad idea. Staying pure in the world of football, not fucking around with anyone else, made my act that much stronger.

I drove down the freeway, fighting the fucking traffic, on my way home to Lafayette. Even though I knew I could play this game, and hide behind my God Shield, it still sucked that I couldn’t really be myself. I’d told Will that I thought about blowing it all off and just coming out of the closet, and I’d meant it, but I don’t think he knew how tempting it was. Sometimes it was so fucking hard not to let my jealousy take control, jealousy not just of what he did with other guys, but jealousy because he could be himself and I couldn’t. It would be so easy to lash out at him, and take it out on him, but that wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t smart. I needed him. He was my anchor.

That was probably dangerous, for me to put so much of myself into another high school dude, but Will was different. Even if he got hella pissed at me, and even if he wanted to kick my ass, if I needed him, he’d be in my corner. I’d questioned that a few times, but I knew he would. When he’d busted me handing out Jesus pamphlets in Claremont, he’d freaked out, but even then, I could watch the anger fade. All I really had to do with him was be sincere. I’d had his back after the 9-11 nightmare. I’d helped him through that. I knew how he worked. In his mind, that meant he owed me, so unless I did something horrible, he’d at least be my friend. I didn’t worry that he’d jettison me and leave me floating out there on my own. I knew he wouldn’t.

I finally made it home and parked the Durango in the garage. I lived here with my Uncle Frank and his soon-to-be wife Isidore. They were awesome; absolutely terrific. They did everything for me that my parents didn’t do. They were my biggest cheerleaders, and went out of their way to support me. I didn’t have to worry about getting a bunch of shit from them. They trusted me, and gave me my space, and I repaid them by not fucking up. What a switch from my father, who never missed a chance to tear me down. Frank and Isidore knew what I needed to get to the next level, and they gave it to me with love. My parents didn’t.

“Well hello,” Isidore said, in her smooth French accent. “How was your day?”

“Not bad,” I said. “I think I’m going to go swimming.” I said that last sentence in French. I’d taken Spanish in school, but ever since I’d gone to Paris with Will, I’d decided to learn French as well, and Isidore had been helping me.

“Très bien,” she said with a smile.

I put on my suit and jumped into the pool, lounging around like a slug, and then ultimately ended up in the hot tub. I smiled, thinking that this time next week; I’d be sitting here waiting for Will. Then I thought of how good it would be to see him, and I had to go inside and beat off.

 

August 31, 2002

Chicago

 

Brad

 

The sun shone through the skylight into the room, piercing through my eyelids as if it were determined to wake me up. I opened my eyes slowly, squinting as I did, and then glanced next to me to see Cam lying on his side. His head was on the pillow, but in a slightly tilted position, with his mouth wide open. I lifted the covers and smiled at his morning hard-on, which seemed to beg for my attention, which I willingly gave it. I stroked it gently, until I saw him wake up. “Good morning,” I said, getting a smile from him.

“It is,” he said. I pushed him onto his back and blew him, and it was so erotic to see him come out of his sleep coma at the same time that his body responded to my oral efforts. After he came, he sighed and lay there, totally spent. “Damn, is it a good morning.” I chuckled at that.

“I’m glad you spent the night,” I said. He pushed me onto my back and returned the favor, working his oral magic on me. When I was done, he pulled me to his chest just as he’d done last night, and gently stroked my back.

“I’m glad I spent the night too.” We were enjoying each other, enjoying the mood, and then he got a little tense. “When are you leaving?”

“We fly out for Boston this morning,” I said.

“That’s a bummer.”

I was so tempted to just stay here, but I felt like I needed to check up on Matt, Wade, and JJ. What kind of father would I be if I let my 16-year-old son move to a different city and I didn’t even bother to check out where he was living? It wasn’t that I was worried that things weren’t good, because Wade wouldn’t drop the ball on that, but it was more a sign of moral support, and a way to show JJ that I cared about him. “It is, but I need to go there.”

“You think you’ll be back in Chicago anytime soon?” he asked. It was really sweet that way he was so anxious to spend time with me, especially since I was old enough to be his father.

Then I got inspired. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“I have to work tonight,” he said.

“Can you get off?”

“I just did,” he joked, referring to his orgasm.

“I meant from work,” I said, giving him a fake annoyed look.

“I don’t know,” he said uncomfortably. “I guess I could.”

“Come to Boston with me,” I said.

“You want me to go to Boston?” he asked incredulously.

“I do. I want you to go to Boston,” I said firmly.

“I don’t have any clothes with me, and I don’t know if I can get ready that fast,” he said.

“We have time for that,” I said, brushing that objection aside. “We’re staying with Matt and Wade.”

“That might be weird,” he said.

“I think that it actually would be a good thing.” He looked at me, asking me to explain why. “You’ve never met Wade. You’ll like him, and I know he’ll like you. Plus I know Matt would be thrilled to see you.”

“Why would Wade want to see me? I slept with his boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but they weren’t together then, and Wade’s not that uptight. You know, Will was so impressed by how honest and trustworthy you are, he told me about that before he mentioned how hot you are. That’s a huge compliment.”

He laughed. “He’s a piece of work. I like him.”

“So do I, most of the time. Wade is just as perceptive. He’ll pick up on that, and I’m almost sure that he’ll like you.”

“You’re thinking that meeting Wade will make it easier for me to be friends with Matt in the future,” he concluded.

“I am, and I’m thinking that it will make it easy for us in the future.”

“Us? Future?” he asked coyly.

I sighed. “Look, I had a lot of fun with you. I really feel a connection between us. Is it just me?”

“No, it’s not just you,” he said shyly.

“I’d like to spend some time with you, to get to know you better.”

“I’d like that too,” he said, and kissed me.

“I can get beyond the fact that I’m old enough to be your father, and I can deal with the fact that you’re still in school, because you’re so mature for your age, and that shit really isn’t important in the long run.”

“That doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me,” he said adamantly. “I’ve had more fun with you in one night than I did with most of the guys I had relationships with.”

I felt myself blushing, a fact that was confirmed when he chuckled at me. “A blow job from you is better than a fuck from another guy.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I sighed again. “Matt is like a son to me. I need to know that he’s cool with this.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Then it’s going to be a problem for us,” I said, even though I didn’t want to admit it. “I really don’t think it will be. I can’t imagine him causing problems, or bitching about it, but if you go to Boston with me, I’ll know for sure.”

“What about your other sons?”

“JJ will be in Boston too. He can be difficult to deal with at times. But he really has no grounds to object to us dating. The only one who does is Matt, because you and he went out before.”

“I don’t see why he has any right to get upset about that.”

“After 9-11, I was a fucking mess. After Matt and Wade broke up, Wade and I hooked up. We have a very deep friendship, and we added a physical element to it.”

“I take it Matt didn’t like that.”

“No, he didn’t. No one knew about it for quite a while, because Wade and I are both pretty good at hiding our personal feelings, but when it came out, it was a problem. We’ve dealt with it, and moved beyond it, and Wade and I are good friends now, nothing more.”

“But you’re worried that Matt will freak out because you’re with another guy he used to be with.”

“I think the chances are slim, but I need to deal with that, to make sure I don’t hurt him again.” He nodded, and I was worried that I’d already driven him away. I’d been open and honest, assuming that would work with him, but maybe I’d miscalculated.

“When do we leave?” I felt myself grinning, a huge grin, and I kissed him again.

“Two hours. I’ll call for a car, we’ll take a shower, then the car can take you to grab a few things and meet us at the airport. We’ll be back here tomorrow night.”

“OK,” he said.