Out of the Shade

by S. A. McAuley

  Lila waved her hand in the direction of her twins. “I’m not allowed to have fun for, like, another eighteen years or something.”

  “The double stroller holds her spawn,” Chuck explained. “And the guy standing next to it is her husband.”

  Jordie gave a mock pout. “Damn shame.”

  “You heading out with us, Chuck?” Kam called from across the field, and Chuck motioned for him to come over.

  “Kam, meet Jordie. He’s the producer who’ll be working with us the next few weeks. He just hit town and I invited him to join us at McLoughlin’s.”

  Kam’s face lit up as he shook hands with Jordie. “The kids are ecstatic to have all of you here. Every round tonight is on me.”

  “Won’t argue you on that.” Jordie knocked his hand against Chuck’s stomach. “Hey, is that guy you took to Wellings Field here?”

  Chuck tried not to grimace but didn’t know how successful he was. “Jesse,” he called out. “Come and meet Jordie.”

  Jesse looked to Kam first, then to Chuck, eyes darting to Jordie briefly before he jogged over. Jordie had only known Chuck was bringing a friend—not that he’d also been hooking up with said friend at the time. Chuck schooled his features as Jesse joined them.

  “Jesse, this is Jordie, the producer for the documentary,” Chuck introduced. “He’s also the guy who gave me those tickets to Wellings. Jesse is another coach for the Warriors.”

  Jesse’s entire demeanor eased once Chuck mentioned who Jordie was. “Nice to meet you. And thanks for those tickets. It was—” Jesse stopped short, shaking his head. Then he looked up and focused solely on Jordie, as if he was consciously keeping his gaze off Chuck. “It was great. Thanks.”

  Jordie reached up and mussed Chuck’s hair, and Chuck tried to dodge him but couldn’t slip away fast enough. “Chuckie here knows how to show a guy a good time.”

  Chuck bumped his shoulder against Jordie, ignoring the flare of embarrassment that came with Jordie’s taunt. “Shut the fuck up, Jordie. Let’s go give you a proper Kensington welcome.”

  Chuck was pretty damn sure that McLoughlin’s was the cockroach of dive bars. If the apocalypse ever really came, this place would continue to function in the same twenty-four-hour cycle of blue-collar regulars, greasy food, darts, video games, cracked pitchers of beer, and one-night hookups.

  Kam and Jordie were huddled over their beers as Kam told him stories about the club. Kam was their most articulate salesperson, so Chuck left him to do what he did best. Jordie didn’t stand a chance of leaving Kensington without being sold on every aspect of the Warriors.

  Jesse sat down next to Kam and listened for a bit, adding in a couple of his own views, but Chuck got the feeling that Jesse hadn’t shown up solely to talk to Jordie. His gaze wandered over to Chuck every now and then, but every time Chuck tried to catch his eye, or to engage him in some kind—any kind—of conversation, Jesse would look away again.

  That didn’t keep Chuck from studying him, though. Jesse had changed clothes since the game, and he was wearing a Henley with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Chuck swallowed thickly as he realized it was the same Henley he’d worn the first night they’d slept together. Unlike how loosely it had fitted on Chuck, the shirt strained under the breadth of Jesse’s shoulders and the width of his chest. He was scruffy today, as if he’d gone a day without shaving. He looked fuckable. Achingly, pulse-poundingly fuckable—

  “What you think, Chuckie?”

  Jordie’s question made him jump. He took a drink and shook his head to clear the pornographic thoughts racing through mind. “Sorry. I have no idea what you asked.”

  Jordie tapped him on the back of the head. “Concentrate. I’m talking about your baby here.”

  “My Mac?”

  “Your camera!” Jordie protested. “Or has Rose been knocked out of her top spot by Lucinda?”

  “Who the fuck are Lucinda and Rose?” Kam said with a laugh.

  “My Mac and my favorite camera,” Chuck clarified. “In that order.”

  Kam motioned at Chuck with his beer. “Dude. I thought you were gay. You name your electronics after women?”

  “Women are much more reliable.”

  Jordie scoffed. “I don’t think you’ve spent enough time with women.”

  His own mother might not have been a woman to look up to, but she wasn’t a good example in the humanity department overall. He’d met some of the strongest women he’d ever known since moving to Kensington, though. “Nah, man. Women are pillars—taking all the shit thrown at them on a daily basis and bearing it all while still uplifting themselves, their kids and their partners. I have nothing but respect for a strong woman….” Chuck glanced at Jesse. “Or a woman fighting her way to strength. They’re tenacious in a way we don’t have to be.”

  Jesse gave a small nod and stared down at his glass.

  Jordie’s mouth gaped. “Can you write that shit down? Pretty sure saying something like that would get me laid.”

  Chuck gave an uneasy laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

  “No doubt, Chuckie.”

  The conversation moved away from any attention on him, and Chuck sat back and listened while sipping at his beer. He’d had one beer already and was on his second, but seriously nursing this one. He’d have no trouble being sober enough to drive Jordie back to his hotel if needed.

  He was trying to be okay with Jesse’s quiet presence. With Jesse being near without his full attention on Chuck. Then Jesse appeared to be glancing in his direction, and this time when Chuck looked up, Jesse didn’t flinch away. Chuck held Jesse’s gaze—not challenging him, not asking anything of him, just being there with him. Jesse looked away and his fingers thrummed on the table, then he took a gulp of water and leaned forward.

  “So why do all your sports buddies call you Chuckie? Noticed that with Tayshaun too.”

  Chuck rested his elbows on the table and circled his hands around his glass. “My name growing up was Charles Dunnbradley, and I went by that professionally, you know that. But I fucking hated my last name—too tied to my family. I officially changed it to Dunn a few years back, I don’t think I ever told you that.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Chuck slid his fingers over the droplets of condensation on his glass. There was so much they’d never told each other. So much they could’ve learned if they’d taken more time to talk. Chuck stuffed that regret down and refocused on Jesse.

  Jesse was watching him carefully. “So where does the Chuckie part come into that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t really know to be honest. When I changed my last name, everyone started calling me Chuckie. I’m pretty sure T started calling me that because he thought I would hate it. But I fucking love it. My father would rather die than be called Chuckie.”

  Jesse turned in his chair so he was facing Chuck head on and leaned in. “You seen them at all? Your parents?”

  Chuck sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yeah, my mom and I…. We talked. It didn’t go well. And my dad…. Just one brief sighting in the wilds of high society.”

  Jesse nodded but didn’t say anything else.

  Chuck struggled to keep the conversation going. Banter had always been easy with Jesse, and this…wasn’t. He wanted to ask about Jesse’s parents. He’d never meet them, but all the boys spoke highly of them. As far as he knew, they’d been solidly in Jesse’s corner since the assault and trial. He didn’t ask, though. He didn’t know where the new line was between them.

  Instead, Chuck went for a topic he hoped let Jesse know he still cared for him. “How hard is it being back at McLoughlin’s?”

  Jesse’s smile was weak. Maybe even…sad. “It’s not easy, not gonna lie to you. I’ve been back a few times with the boys. I thought it would be one of those things where it got easier each time, but it’s not like that. Some days it’s easy, some days it’s really fucking hard. There’s no rhythm to it.”

  “Not, uh”—Chuck swiped his hand across his mouth, a m
emory coming back to him. He and Jesse had had some really good days—“Not like a solid Katy Perry beat, right?”

  This time, Jesse’s responding smile nearly blinded Chuck. “Not at all.”

  Kam and Jordie were wrapped up in their own conversation and Chuck glanced at them, listening for a place to insert himself in case Jesse needed an exit from this conversation.

  “So,” Jesse started, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got next on darts. You think…. You want to join me?”

  Chuck nodded. “Sure.”

  They settled in front of the board and started up the game with few words said between them and even less space. Chuck was very aware of Jesse’s proximity and his size, and he tried not to let any of that affect him, but soon he was shifting on his feet, inching away from Jesse. Being this close to him again was an all-out assault on the senses. As the minutes ticked away—the darts thumping with more force into the board from both of them—Jesse seemed to be getting tenser too.

  Chuck tried not to let that sting. He kept his eyes locked to the bullseye when he finally spoke. “You sure me being here is okay?”

  “No. I mean, yeah,” Jesse said in a rush. “It is good. Just…hard.”

  There were too many ways he could interpret that. Chuck lined up his shot and sent the dart sailing. “Like being here and not drinking?”

  “No, but yeah.” Jesse scratched at his chin with the point of the dart. Then he faced Chuck, chin tipped down, looking up through his lashes, eyes crinkling. “How’s that for confusing?”

  Chuck’s heart stuttered. He had clear memories of Jesse looking at him like that in very different circumstances.

  “It’s okay,” Chuck said. Even though it wasn’t. He had to find a way for it to be, though. “It’s not easy for me either, but I’m glad we’re trying.”

  Jesse squared his shoulders, faced the dartboard, and lined up his shot. “I’ve missed you.”

  Chuck didn’t know what to say. It was all he wanted to hear and yet too painful to really think about—especially since Jesse could only admit this when there was no chance of the boys overhearing and Jesse wasn’t forced to make eye contact with him.

  When Chuck didn’t say anything, Jesse’s shoulders slumped. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the table behind him, facing Chuck. “I’m sorry if that was too much, but it’s true. I’m trying to be more honest with myself.”

  Chuck had to respect that. “That’s not easy, right?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’d like to find a way for us to be friends again. That we were good at.”

  Jesse nodded, seemingly considering whether that was something he could work with. “A few of the boys are heading over to my place after the bar. You think you want to join us? Jordie is welcome too.”

  “Yeah, Jesse. I’d like that. Let me see what J wants to do. Either way, I’ll be there.”

  “Cool.”

  “Like a Slurpee-drinking penguin?”

  Jesse huffed. “Yeah, man. See you there.”

  Jesse stalked into the kitchen and dropped the beer the guys had brought over into the fridge. It was the first alcohol that had been in his house in almost four months. To say he felt tempted was an understatement, but he could do this. One drink was too many. One sip.

  The boys had offered not to bring anything with them, but Jesse had to learn how to deal with living in a world where people would drink around him. He had many, many years of life left to handle himself in that situation.

  At least this atmosphere was a safe place to test the boundaries of it. His friends wouldn’t let him drink, he didn’t want to—not really—and it was his home they were in. His safe space.

  He ran his finger over the line of AA chips he’d put on his fridge for exactly this reason—to remind himself of just how hard he’d already worked to get this far. To help him hold onto strength to keep accumulating them. Twenty-four hours, one month, two months, three months…. Next up was his four-month chip and he was determined to get there. He wanted to be able to hold a set like his dad had accumulated over the last thirty plus years. He was going to have to work hard to get there, so he would.

  There was a knock at the front door and he heard Kam welcoming Chuck in. Jesse took a deep breath, grabbed a bottle of beer for Matt, and entered the living room. Chuck had texted earlier to say Jordie had opted to head back to the hotel and crash. Jesse was beyond okay with that. Jordie and Chuck were close—comfortable—and although he was relatively sure there was nothing between them, they were familiar in a way that Jesse hoped he and Chuck would get back to one day. That effortless interaction that happened between people who didn’t have to think about how to orbit around each other.

  Jesse looked at Chuck and could remember when it had been like that for them.

  It had been months since Chuck had last been here—since that disastrous New Year’s Eve—but it was right to have him here now. His house had never felt warmer. More welcoming. More complete. Jesse was surrounded by his closest friends and by the man he loved.

  Chuck dropped to his knees so Precious could get her paws on his shoulders and nose at his face. Chuck rubbed up and down her flank, cooing in her ear. Then he stood, unzipped his hoodie, shrugged it off and threw it over the arm of the couch just like he had every other time he’d ever been in Jesse’s house.

  Jesse didn’t know if Chuck even realized what he was doing—if he’d ever known he had any patterns when it came to Jesse. But Jesse knew them all. He’d cataloged them all, holding onto the things no one else had the time, patience, or interest to pay attention to.

  Then Emily was careening down the stairs and jumping into Chuck’s arms. He twirled her around and she buried her face into his neck.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Chuck said, a genuine smile on his lips. “It’s been too long. You look great.”

  Chuck set Emily on her feet and she patted his cheek. “Not as good as you.”

  Jesse slumped onto the couch and handed the beer to Matt.

  Matt’s attention was on Chuck and Emily, still huddled together at the front door talking. Matt frowned. “I didn’t realize your sister and Chuck knew each other that well.”

  Jesse gave a dark laugh. “It’s not like that.”

  “No shit, Jesse. I may have barely graduated college, but I’m pretty sure I know what being gay means.”

  “Funny,” Jesse dismissed. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Matt’s initial observation. “Chuck used to spend a lot of time over here.”

  Matt took a swig of his beer. “And then he didn’t. What happened with that?”

  “Me,” Jesse answered honestly. He shrugged. “Wish there was another explanation.”

  “He’s coming around then.”

  Jesse swallowed and eyed Matt’s beer. The need to lose himself right now was overwhelming. But that hadn’t been the right choice then, and it wouldn’t ever be again. He was making choices to reclaim his future, and trusting his lifelong friends was a choice he had to start getting right too.

  Jesse took a deep breath, then, “I needed him to walk away.”

  Matt caught his eyes, searching for something Jesse knew was there—at the surface, and way too raw for him to cover up. He knew Matt had found it when Matt took a gigantic gulp of his beer and his other hand balled into a fist. Jesse braced for what came next.

  Matt clenched his jaw. “You and Chuck…. It wasn’t just friendship was it?”

  Jesse was shaking, but he couldn’t back down now. “No. It wasn’t.”

  Jesse tensed as Matt leaned forward and set his bottle on the coffee table. He wasn’t meeting Jesse’s eyes anymore. “And now?”

  “We may be friends again. One day.”

  Matt hung his head, unclenched his fists and ran his hands over his hair. Jesse didn’t know what to do besides wait him out.

  Matt shook his head, his gaze wandering to the front door. “Chuck’s good people. I mean, look at Emily. She doesn’t t
rust anybody.”

  “We gonna….” Jesse was hopeful that one of his oldest friends wasn’t about to flatten him in his own home, but Matt still hadn’t really acknowledged what Jesse had just revealed. He had to know for sure where Matt stood in this. “Are we gonna have a problem with what I just told you?”

  “No. You don’t have to worry about that for a second. You just caught me off guard.” Matt crashed back and bumped shoulders with Jesse. “You’re good people too, Sollie.”

  “Thanks, Matty.”

  Matt lifted his eyebrow. “So just dudes? What about all those women? What about the chick your mom set you up with?”

  Jesse began to shift away but thought twice about it. Matt was offering him not only support, but he wanted to understand. Jesse’s whole body was still thrumming with adrenaline, though, and he let out a nervous laugh before he could stop it. “That wasn’t going anywhere. It’s okay, though. And I’m pretty sure it’s both for me—men and women.”

  Matt pulled Jesse into a hug and clapped him on the back. “We’ll talk more another time. For now, I hear the call of PlayStation. Just—” Matt stopped and shook his head again, then swatted Jesse’s cheek with a love tap. “If there’s still something there with you and Chuck I hope it works out. You deserve some happiness.”

  Jesse got a mumbled thanks past his lips and sunk into the couch.

  He didn’t spend any time with Chuck one-on-one as the night wore on. He didn’t even push to make that part of the night. It was nice to have Chuck in his house—in his life—without drinking, with the Kensington boys and his sister, and have it all be…okay.

  22

  The kids were fucking squirrels as soon as Jordie’s cameras showed up. It was going to take a few days before the novelty of being filmed wore off and they were able to calm down enough for Jordie and his crew to get good footage. Jesse was aware they didn’t have the luxury of time, though.

  The Warriors first major competition of the year was coming up in a week, and it was the biggest reason Jordie and his crew had wanted to film now. No matter what he, Kam, and the other coaches did, though, the kids were too hyped. It didn’t matter that they’d already gone for a long run and been driven harder than usual in practice and sparring….