Ollie shook his hand while scrutinizing Milo’s face through narrowed eyes. “Man, I feel like I know you from somewhere.”
“I don’t think so,” Milo said in a squeaky voice, running his finger nervously under the collar of his shirt. Was it Ollie’s stark white clergy collar against the black shirt that made Milo feel uncomfortable? Did he think Ollie would judge us? Something was going on here, and I would get to the bottom of it before the night was over.
I tried to hide my shock, but I knew I’d failed miserably when I felt Andy staring at me. “I doubt we run in the same circles, Father.” Oh, but we did. He was the birthday boy I gave a lap dance to while I tried to make Andy jealous. He sure as hell wasn’t wearing a collar when he popped wood against my ass. I had to be wrong; it couldn’t be the same guy. I recognized those big brown eyes as the ones that looked at me with unbridled lust. Holy shit. I must’ve broken at least a hundred commandments.
“I’m not a priest,” the man said softly. “I’m a pastor, but please call me Oliver or Ollie.”
“Um, that’s kind of hard to do with the collar on.” I realized that I was running my finger beneath my own collar.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” He raised a brow. “I can take it off.” Was he flirting with me? Surely not. Andy had staked his claim when he introduced me as his boyfriend. Then Pastor Ollie turned his soulful brown eyes on my guy, and I knew exactly where his interest was.
Hold up. Andy had specifically said that his Wednesday night rendezvous were strictly NA meetings and dinner afterward. This was the same group who brought a pastor to a drag show for his birthday. What was this world coming to, and was Andy truthful when he said there was never anything intimate between them?
“Uh, no. I’m just surprised.”
“About what?” he asked sincerely.
What could I say without giving myself away? I couldn’t ask if his congregation knew he liked cock, because how would I know that? I couldn’t demand to know his real relationship with Andy because my boyfriend seemed clueless about the pastor’s affection for him. “I honestly can’t say, I just am,” I managed to tell him. Eager to change the subject, I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “I got my blue ball. I’m ready to play.”
“Just one blue ball?” Andy asked. “How does that even happen?”
“I guess I only emptied one chamber last night,” I said with a shrug. Then I remembered we weren’t alone. “Oh, um… I’m sorry, Father Ollie, Pastor Ollie. Fuck me! This is awkward.”
Father-Pastor-Fuck-Me Ollie smiled broadly before he gave into hearty laughter. “I can see the collar is making you nervous, so I’ll take it off.”
“No,” I said in a hurry. “Let’s just start all over again.” I stuck my hand toward the clergyman and offered a friendly smile. “I’m Milo Miracle. Andy has told me a lot about you, and I’m grateful to meet you.” I wholeheartedly subscribed to the keep your friends close and your enemies closer theory. Make no mistake, I’d choke Father-Pastor-Fuck-Me Ollie with his own collar if he wasn’t careful. I just got Andy back, and I wasn’t giving him up again.
“Likewise,” Ollie said cheerfully. “Andy has told me a lot about you too.”
Something about his tone struck me funny, so I glanced toward Andy when I dropped his sponsor’s hand. I’d hoped his smile would put me at ease, but he looked like he’d swallowed something that was a week past its expiration date.
“I’m just going to go change,” Ollie said, seeing the tension rising between Andy and me.
“Seriously, Ollie,” Andy said, wrapping his arm around the other man’s bicep to prevent him from leaving. “It’s not necessary.”
Ollie looked from Andy to me before he offered a friendly smile to Andy. “Yes, I believe it is. Besides, I don’t normally wear my collar when we go out. I just came from the hospital visiting members from my church. No worries, Andrew. I’ll be right back.” Andrew? Why did it sound more like a caress when Ollie said his name?
Okay, I felt like a big gaping asshole. Especially when he walked away and Andy turned disappointed eyes on me. This time, it was my bicep he gripped when he hauled me a few steps away from his group of friends.
“What’s going on with you, Milo?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you do,” Andy replied. “You’re acting weird around Ollie. I know damn well it’s not his collar since you serve the local clergyman every morning when they stop in for coffee and pastries. What is it about Ollie that has you so worked up? Are you attracted to him?”
“What? Me? Not that it matters since he only has eyes for you?”
Andy shook his head in confusion. “You sound upset that Ollie isn’t in to you.” Oh, he was in to me the night I was dressed as Peach, but I wasn’t about to blurt that one out.
“I’m upset because I think there’s more between you and Ollie, not wishing that was the case for me and Ollie,” I clarified.
“Oh,” Andy said.
“What’s that mean? Just ‘oh’ and nothing else?”
“It just means ‘oh.’ I told you that I haven’t been with anyone else since I returned home, and I wasn’t lying.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me though, Andy.”
“I mean, I could’ve had sex with him, but I didn’t return Ollie’s interest.”
Was that supposed to make me feel better? On some level, I knew that my reaction was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help my mind from wandering back to the night at Queen City Divas when they appeared closer than Andy was telling me. I remembered the way they leaned close to whisper in each other’s ear, and the sexy smirk on Andy’s face when I was singing happy birthday to Oliver. It wasn’t a Wednesday night either, so they obviously hung out more than just on Wednesday evenings. What else wasn’t Andy telling me?
“Look, it’s obvious there’s something bothering you, and we need to have a lengthy conversation. Can we do that privately? Ollie’s sponsorship and friendship are important to me, and I’d really like for you to get to know him.” Andy pressed a few sweet kisses against my lips, garnering catcalls from his buddies. “Please.”
“I’m going to make you beg for other things later, Slugger,” I whispered in his ear. The sparkle in his eyes eased the nerves making my stomach pitch and roll.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Andy said before he kissed me once more.
“What’d I miss?” Ollie asked, as if he couldn’t see that my lips were pressed against Andy’s.
“Andy is sucking face with his boyfriend,” one of the guys said.
I’d forgotten his name already. I think Andy called him Alec or Allen or something. He wore a goofy grin on his face like a perpetual frat boy. In fact, all three of the other guys looked like frat boys. I noticed that smile dimmed a little when Ollie didn’t react to his remark. Exactly how did Frat-Boy-Alec-Allen think their sponsor would act? It seemed obvious to me that he knew about the connection Andy shared with Ollie. Was he jealous? Was he gay too? Were they all gay? Exactly what did they get up to during their meetings? Whoa! My brain was spinning out of control, but I blocked my mind from playing out a naked orgy in the basement of a church.
“This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone since we knew how much Andy wanted to reconnect with Milo,” Ollie said kindly. “I’m happy for you…both.”
“Thanks,” Andy said, rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he found himself in an awkward situation. Maybe he should’ve thought this through a little better.
“Are we going to bowl or what?” Bill, or maybe it was Bruce, asked.
“Let’s do this,” Ollie said. He walked over and entered our names into the computer. Adam, Brent, and Tyler were their names.
I was so happy that Oliver didn’t make me go first. Perhaps he didn’t hate me after all. Surely that was against his religion, right? Adam, Brent, and Tyler were on one team, and Andy, Oliver, and I were on the other.
&nbs
p; Adam, Brent, and Tyler took their practice turns and all threw strikes or spares. Fuck. I hadn’t bowled in a long time.
“Babe, just have fun with it,” Andy said, clearly remembering how horrible I was when he bowled together in high school.
“Thanks,” I said dryly, rolling my eyes as I turned away from him.
Channel the Peach. Channel the Peach. Channel the Peach.
“I saw that,” Andy said.
I looked coyly over my shoulder. “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling.”
Yep, I had an extra sway as I picked my ball up and walked up the steps. Don’t fall on your ass. Don’t fall on your ass.
“You got this, babe,” Andy said cheerfully.
As I stood there looking down the lane, I had a choice to make. I could reveal to Andy that I had improved my game since we last played together, or I could keep that a secret right up until it counted. Hmmmm. Like there was any real choice here. I walked awkwardly, swung my ball out of rhythm, and let it fly so that it landed with a hard thunk, barely having enough energy to roll into the gutter. I thought that maybe I overplayed my hand when it looked like it might roll to a stop before it cleared the lane.
“Oops,” I said sassily, turning to face the five men who wore conflicting expressions on their faces. Adam, Brent, and Tyler grinned from ear to ear, knowing that victory for their team would be a sure thing. Andy looked embarrassed—for me or because of me, I couldn’t be sure—while Oliver looked stunned. Surely, he’d seen worse. No? Wait for it…
My second practice throw was carefully orchestrated as well. I nearly dropped the ball on my foot, purposely, of course, and I managed to slowly roll the ball at the perfect angle so that it didn’t hit the gutter until the last second. I wrapped my left hand around my right wrist like it was too frail to roll the little ole ball down that super long lane.
“I’m a little rusty,” I said apologetically when I made my way back to Andy.
Andy pulled me onto his lap and whispered in my ear. “That’s okay. I still love you.”
Blink. Blink. Blink. I forgot to breathe. My eyes stung with unshed tears while Andy looked at me with a look of panic on his face.
“Uhhh,” Andy said, spurring me into action.
“Oh no. You’re not taking it back, Andy,” I said boldly then kissed him on his mouth while I did a happy shimmy that would’ve made Peach proud.
“Is there something you’d like to say to me, Milo.”
“Uh huh,” I said coyly.
“And?”
“It’s Ollie’s turn to bowl.”
Andy growled lightly in his throat and nipped my ear, but I wouldn’t allow him to distract me from sizing up my competition. Ollie’s first attempt knocked down eight pins but left a wide gap between the two remaining pins. Andy, and I suspected the goober triplets across the way, could’ve knocked them both down to pick up the spare in the situation, but Ollie wasn’t up to their level. Hell, he wasn’t even up to my level. He just didn’t know it. Yet. His second practice bowl was much better because he picked up a spare. There was a touch of smugness in his smile when he looked at me.
“You’re up, Slugger.” I rose off his lap and gestured to where the rest of the guys were waiting. Adam, Brent, and Tyler wore matching dopey grins watching our exchange while Oliver looked resigned.
“Milo,” Andy said in a warning growl when he stood up. “I want to hear the words later.”
“If you force them out of me then how will you know they’re sincere?”
“I’ll take my chances,” Andy quipped as he confidently approached the thingy with the bowling balls on it. I admired his swagger and the way his firm ass looked in his Levi’s when he approached the lane. Andy’s moves were smooth and well-practiced as he sent that ball speeding down the lane and crashing into the pins, knocking them all down with conviction.
“I’m damn good,” he boasted then came to me for a celebration kiss.
I glanced over and caught the pastor struggling to peel his eyes off Andy’s ass. Just what kind of godly man was he? Clearly one that ogles my guy and is cocky about his mediocre bowling technique. Wasn’t he supposed to be humble, kind, and celibate? Oh wait. He’s not a priest. Well, save himself for marriage at least? All right, I had ventured into Petty Town, and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t fault the guy for being attracted to Andy, and he obviously cared about the man I loved. Therefore, I would need to get over my unwarranted jealousy, fully embrace the fact that Andy Mason still loved me, and focus on kicking the shit out of Larry, Curly, and Mo across the lane.
“Let’s get this party started,” Adam said.
I sat quietly doing my best to look worried as I watched the three of them bowl strikes. They high-fived one another, pointed in our directions as if to say we were going down, and other juvenile antics. Well, I had every intention of going down on Andy later, but it would be a freezing day in hell before this queen lost to them without a fight.
I could feel the difference in my demeanor as I approached the ball return thingy. I was confident of my ability; I was graceful and elegant. I was Peach. I held the ball in front of my chest and visualized where I wanted it to go then I did my graceful step sequence, releasing the ball with flourish. I kept my long leg stretched for balance as I watched the ball sail down the lane and knock down every-single-mother-fucking pin.
I stood up and faced the guys. “Oh my God!” I jumped up and down like a little kid. “Do you believe it? That’s good right?” Five astonished faces stared back at me with gaping mouths and bulging eyes. “Must be a fluke.”
“Yeah,” Ollie said quietly as he rose to his feet.
“Don’t I get another turn?” I questioned. “I thought we got two chances.” I looked up at the scoreboard. “Hey, why don’t we have any points?” Of course, I knew the answers, but it was better to keep up the charade as long as I could.
“We bowled strikes,” Tyler explained patiently. “They’ll add our score from the next two rolls to our first frame.”
“Got it.”
“I guess it’s your turn, Oliver.”
“Okay then,” he said, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe it.
The other four men remained quiet when Oliver took his turn. Three men switched their attention to the bowling action, while the last man only had eyes for me. A slow grin spread across Andy’s face.
“I think we’ve been played,” my guy said, tugging me back down onto his lap. I loved that he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me regardless of where we were or who we were with.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied coyly.
“Liar.”
“It wasn’t lying, Andy,” I told him. “It’s called acting. You all expected me to bowl a certain way, and I met those expectations.”
“And now?”
“And now, I show you what I’m really made of, lover.” I sealed my promise with a lingering kiss. I was mindful of our setting and audience, so I kept my tongue to myself and let the warmth and firmness of his lips be enough for the moment.
“Andy, you’re up,” Ollie said from behind us.
“Not yet, but I think you’re getting there,” I whispered in Andy’s ear.
“Later, I want you to show me all the other tricks you’ve been saving for a rainy day.”
“Baby, I can’t reveal that all in one night.”
A throat cleared behind us in an annoying manner. Go pray about something, Pastor Ollie. I reminded myself that he was Andy’s friend and sponsor. I rose from Andy’s lap and gestured for Andy to take his turn.
“Go get ’em, Slugger.” I clapped proudly when my man retrieved his ball and took his position in front of the lane. Like his practice run, Andy bowled a very convincing strike. I glanced up at the scoreboard to check out the cute graphics then noticed that the only score posted was Ollie’s since the rest of us bowled strikes.
I could’ve been catty about the four pins that Ollie managed to knoc
k down, especially since he was a better bowler than that. I knew my performance shook him up and took him out of his game. He was on my team, therefore I needed to lift him up while hoping I rattled the frat boys.
“You’ll get them next time, Ollie.”
The next round had similar results since the other team felt that my strike was luck or a fluke. I showed them they were wrong by rolling another perfect strike. By this time, Ollie was smiling because he realized that I’d been playing all of them during warmups. He bowled a respectable spare, and Andy was pure perfection once more.
Since we weren’t professional bowlers, it was only a matter of time before we made mistakes. I started to see hashtag team frat boy lose a little steam in the seventh and eighth frames. I knew we could easily make up the difference if we stayed strong. We were neck and neck going into the final frame, so I motioned for our team to huddle up before we took our final turn since only one of the three frats bowled strikes.
“We can do this, guys. We don’t have to bowl perfect frames. Let’s just end strong.”
We bumped fists, and I approached the lane with confidence. I hadn’t bowled a strike in the last few frames, but I’d racked up respectable eights and nines. Come on, Peach. Let’s teach these boys a lesson in humility. I released my breath at the same time I let go of the ball then held it as it rolled quickly down the lane. I couldn’t resist doing a fun little shimmy when I knocked down all the pins.
“That’s my guy!” Andy yelled proudly. I refrained from jumping into his arms, but just barely.
I had two bonus rolls, and I earned a strike on the first roll and nine on the second. That made my final frame worth twenty-nine out of thirty possible points.
“Oh my God,” Adam groaned.
Ollie bowled a spare and earned an extra roll, earning a total of eighteen points. Then my guy got up and rolled a perfect frame with a total of thirty points. We beat hashtag team frat boy by six points. It wasn’t an ass-whooping but might as well have been by the dejected looks on their faces.
This Time Around Page 14