“I didn’t mind it when my parents used it as a pet name,” he explained, and I figured that was true of anything if said with affection. “But, dude. My older brother and his best friend would sit in the stands at football games and yell it onto the field.”
I winced. Fuck, we had done that. He was probably mortified around his football team. But that was the point, wasn’t it? It was almost a rite of passage to get teased by your older brother.
The realization must’ve shown on my face because Caden gave me a pointed look.
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Now shut your trap so we can watch.”
4
Caden
Waking up at the beach and making coffee for us the second morning in a row was strange, to say the least. Not only because I got busy measuring scoops for a person who was so not Lauren, but because it was Blair Anderson, of all people. In my wildest dreams, I never would’ve imagined us spending time together without my whole family around us as a cushion.
Blair’s sarcasm and one-liners were still sort of funny, and something else that teased at the edges of my brain—familiar was probably the word, and that didn’t feel terrible right now. He was never not easy on the eyes; I mean, the guy had cheekbones for days. Normally he was on the thin side, but I knew he had to be in order to fit into certain sample sizes, or at least that was a conversation I’d overheard between him and my mom one time. It sounded pretty pressure-filled but also exciting, and Blair was larger-than-life, so it seemed to suit him.
Also refreshing was him not drilling me about what the hell was wrong and why I needed time by myself out here, and I appreciated that. Not that I was by myself, and last night when he’d wandered into the living room and binge-watched half a season with me, I actually welcomed it. Go figure. I wasn’t trying to pack my bag and get the hell away, and unless I was mistaken, neither was he.
The majority of my childhood had been spent with Blair somewhere in the background of my life. We both grew up in the same Ohio town and even now only lived a couple of hours apart. I had moved to Cleveland, and he still had a place near his parents in Dublin but traveled frequently around the world. So maybe him wanting to stay put somewhere quiet for a change made sense. But what did I know? I’d mostly heard about Blair’s life when I’d eavesdrop while he and Christopher spent hours playing video games or whatever the hell else they were doing. Sometimes they’d let me tag along, and sometimes my parents would make them, which was totally mortifying.
I had come out here to think things through after finally calling it quits with my girlfriend. To say I was in an exploratory state was an understatement, but I wasn’t sure how to become more me and comfortable in my own skin. Maybe I could use a lesson or two from Blair. In fact, maybe it made more sense now how I secretly looked up to Blair as a kid, like he was a movie star. Close enough. Maybe I thought he had it all worked out. I viewed him as an enigma rather than a real person with problems of his own.
I was slipping into my sneakers when I heard Blair coming downstairs. His shirt had ridden up his stomach as he rubbed his eyes, and my gaze tracked over his lean abdomen to the trail of blond hair beneath his belly button. A wash of heat suffused my cheeks, and I averted my eyes, assuring myself I was only experiencing all these sensations because I was finally allowing myself to notice men instead of burying these feelings. No way would I ever be attracted to someone like Blair. We were complete opposites.
“Thanks again for making the coffee. I’ll try and beat you to it one of these days,” Blair said, and I pondered for the first time how long he’d planned on staying. Christmas Eve was in a week, and I expected I would be sleeping or vegging out through most of it, so I wondered if he had the same idea. But damn, that seemed like a long time to be around each other. Normally he’d already be grating on my nerves—especially in high school when I finally got my own life and stopped following them around—so I expected the annoying shit would be coming, and soon. I could always try to catch a plane home and hide out at my place in Cleveland. Where there was snow and cold. Ugh. I needed a plan B.
“No worries,” I replied as I headed for the back deck. “I’m gonna go for a run on the beach.”
“Better you than me,” Blair muttered, and I smirked, briefly glancing back at him.
Blair was tall, and not an ounce of fat on him. Did he even have to try? He definitely would if he wanted to build muscle, but I had a feeling that was not high on his to-do list. I wasn’t as interested in being buff as I was back in the day, but keeping in shape was important to me, so I worked out regularly.
As I walked toward the shoreline, a hint of a memory about Blair niggled in the back of my brain, and it suddenly came to me: Blair refusing meals my mom offered once his modeling career took off. Like he needed to starve himself to keep fit. That was different than being fussy about food, wasn’t it?
The sand felt hard beneath my feet, but the cooler air felt good against my heated skin. I made it all the way to the breakwall and back, then collapsed near the shore in front of the beach house. Inhaling the salty sea air into my lungs, I knew this was the reason I had come. It felt fucking perfect out here, and so far the weather was cooperating.
The ocean always helped clear my thoughts. I should’ve done this a long time ago.
Suddenly Blair was there, handing me a water bottle, and I was so grateful because I’d forgotten to grab one from the fridge.
“Thought you might need this.” He sat down in the sand beside me, letting the water roll over his toes.
“Thank you.” I took a large gulp. “I definitely did.”
“Don’t need you collapsing in the sand.” He smirked. “Wouldn’t want to have to administer—” He paused abruptly.
The tension swirled thickly in the air around us, and my cheeks heated further. Thanks for the damned visual.
In any other situation, Blair would’ve plodded right through, no matter how embarrassed the person had gotten. He certainly never held back when I was a kid. So what had stopped him now? We were two mature adults, mature being the operative word.
“God, I missed this,” Blair said, effectively changing the subject. He lifted his head toward the sky, and the sun illuminated the blond strands in his hair.
“Just what the doctor ordered?”
He let out a tiny gasp, as though I guessed right. “Something like that,” he admitted. “I was practically ordered here by my therapist.”
“Therapist?” I asked, then regretted it because his eyes shuttered like he was going to wall me off. This certainly wasn’t the Blair I remembered, who would blurt out his business at any turn. He enjoyed being the center of attention and normally didn’t have much of a filter.
“Yeah, I… It’ll sound cliché, but I had an eating disorder for a while. What model doesn’t, right?” he quipped as if it wasn’t something really fucking huge to suffer through. But that was Blair, making light of everything. “She helped me deal with other life shit too, and last month she basically told me that if I didn’t take a break, I’d be driving myself to an early grave.”
“Holy crap, I had no idea.” Damn, it all sounded so morose. But now it also made a ton of sense. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Oh yeah, I actually got a handle on the whole eating thing a couple of years ago.” His hand sliced through the air as if brushing it off. Classic Blair. “It’s just…some food textures still gross me out, but I’m done starving myself for a contract. In fact, sometimes I feel like I might be finished with the industry altogether.”
“Yeah?” Well, this was certainly new. Not that I’d talked to him about much of anything over the years, but I assumed Christopher would’ve said something, had he known Blair was struggling. But maybe Blair was only being honest with himself for the first time, much like me. “What would you do?”
“Dunno. It’s the reason I wanted time to myself.” He motioned to the beach house. “To think this stuff through.”
“Sorry I fucked it all
up,” I muttered, dipping my head guiltily. “If it’s any consolation, it’s the same for me.”
“What’s the same? Snorting coke and starving yourself?” he replied with a smirk. There was the Blair we all knew and loved. When his gaze lazily slid from the top of my head down to my toes, it made me blush like a fucking teenager. Jesus. “Hate to tell you, Cady, it’s not working. You’d never fit into the sample sizes.”
5
Blair
Why was this conversation making me all kinds of antsy? Not only had I confessed something really fucking important to a guy I hadn’t laid eyes on in years, but the way he responded made me feel so much more vulnerable, and I didn’t enjoy that feeling at all.
And Caden was blushing. I mean, I’d seen kid Caden red-faced, but adult Caden flushing rosy pink was something else altogether. Almost something to behold. Add to that his messy hair and sweaty, glistening chest—he’d removed his shirt at some point during his jog and tucked it into his shorts—and Christ, adult Caden was not only appealing, but attractive as shit. Fucker.
Must’ve been the only reason I’d blabbed all that to him. But who was I kidding—I had no trouble spouting off about personal shit to anyone who might listen; I usually wasn’t one to keep secrets, because screw that.
Besides, everyone in my world had a therapist, or had done a stint in rehab, or both, so if I’d shocked Caden, maybe he was more sheltered than I thought. Caden represented the people who used to snub me in school. But he didn’t always embody that, I reminded myself. And he’d never hurt me personally, but sometimes I felt like I could see it buried in his eyes—judging me and my lifestyle. Mr. Vanilla.
“So what brings you out here?” I asked since he sort of just offered—before I deflected. Me and my big mouth. “Are you and Lauren cool?”
I held my breath, awaiting the answer, because I didn’t know if I should’ve kept my mouth shut to begin with. He was silent so long, I dug my fingers in the sand, imagining the sandcastles from our youth and how at one time Caden looked up to me because I could build the best moats. Just as I was about to mention it to him, he cleared his throat.
“Actually, we broke up a few months ago,” he confessed, and this time I couldn’t hold in my gasp. What in the hell? They were the high-school sweethearts everyone emulated and said were going to make it. Even I had bought into the dream, though it also sort of made me gag. Like anything could possibly be that idyllic. Give me a break. Still, they seemed so close, which I secretly thought was pretty cool—to have your best friend be your lover. I suppose some little part of me automatically held out hope they might get back together. Not sure why it mattered to me, except maybe I liked to believe people’s relationships could work out, even if I’d never officially had one. Besides, my parents had reunited after a large bump in the road and seemed happier than ever.
“Seriously?” I rasped, unsure what the hell to say. Caden seemed to be such a stable guy. And let’s be real, probably boring as hell.
So maybe it was for the best because Christ, did they even know what it was like to be with other people? To expand their horizons—and sexual experiences. Life was more than the missionary position.
I obviously had plenty of experience and more firsts than I ever needed in my life. In fact, I’d recently wondered what it might be like to have someone stick around. It might be interesting to experience a fiftieth fuck with the same person, for Christ’s sake. And sentimental, so scratch that.
“Yeah.” Caden sighed as he removed his sneakers and buried his toes in the sand.
“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied, not sure how to even offer support. “I suppose after so much time together you’re heartbroken to have her walk away. Guess it makes sense—”
“I broke up with her,” he said, and my eyebrows rose to my hairline.
He looked away guiltily.
“Ouch.” My fingers dug into the sand with gusto, absently creating the beginning of a moat, which apparently was second nature.
“I just…” He sprang to his knees and began helping expand my moat from his side, as if it were completely natural to fall back into our roles from childhood. “I’ve been figuring myself out.”
I remained silent, hoping he’d continue, as I began building a tower by scooping up the sand, dipping my hands in the water, then creating a funnel that made the spires pointy. Best I could do without the aid of buckets.
“So how do you mean, figuring yourself out?” I asked hesitantly as the silence stretched out, hoping I didn’t break the spell. “Like, jobwise…or…?”
“No, my job is fine.” He shrugged. “I think my career is all set.”
“That’s cool.” He did have a good radio voice, deep and soothing. I’d also come across some of his sports columns from the online newspaper over the years. His followers seemed to be rabid sports fans, and I admit I felt some pride when reading his articles and then the positive responses in the comments section, not that I’d tell him that. “So then, what? Just considering whether you need to be single for a while? ’Cuz, hey, I’m an expert in that field if you ever need any pointers.”
Another drawn-out moment of silence, and I realized he’d stopped building and was staring at me, his cheeks flushed. What in the hell?
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, wondering why I could never shut my damned mouth.
“No, it’s just…when I said I was figuring myself out…” He looked toward the shoreline, as if bolstering his courage. “I was talking about my sexuality.”
“Um…what?” I was suddenly light-headed, or maybe just in an episode of The Twilight Zone. Mind. Blown. “What the hell are you saying? Are you…?”
“I think I might be…bisexual,” he confessed, still not looking at me, but I could see his pulse pounding at his throat. Holy shit!
I swallowed roughly, trying to muster some brain cells. Supportive brain cells. “Is this the first time you’ve admitted that out loud?”
“Fuck.” He took a scoop of sand and threw it toward the ocean. “Yes. And I don’t need your sarcastic response to my—”
“I would never,” I replied, a bit hurt he’d think I’d make light of something so huge. Though I supposed I didn’t have a great track record. “At least not at first. I mean, let’s give you a few months to settle in; then it’s open season.”
A laugh jumped from Caden’s mouth, which was just the lightness I was hoping for. He seemed so damned anxious and serious as his hands balled into fists on his lap, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
But fuck, he’d decided to say the words aloud to me, so he must’ve needed to get them out. Maybe it also meant that he trusted me based on shared history? I had no clue. I did know I couldn’t fuck it up, no matter how much I wanted to point out that his being involved in sports might become a problem for him, depending.
One step at a time.
Saying the words to someone felt huge, and though my first time was so long ago, I understood the relief as well as the fear.
After another minute of staring at the water, I noticed his panting had evened out, and he seemed to be breathing more normal now.
“Well, this has definitely been an eye-opening vacation that I thought I was spending alone.”
Caden snorted, then stood up, dusting the sand off his knees. So many questions swirled through my brain, but I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for them. Still, I wondered…
“Does Lauren know?” I asked as I got to my feet.
“Hell no. Nobody but you,” he replied with a humorless laugh. And then his expression sobered even more. “Fuck.”
“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. You don’t fuck around with people’s sexuality. And listen, man. I’m here, obviously.” I motioned to the house. “Unless you decide to hightail it out of town. Point is, if you need to hash anything out, I’m a good listener.”
If I was one thing, I was a decent friend. Christopher and Finn could probably even vouch for me.
>
“Thanks,” he replied, then turned to head back inside.
6
Caden
“Yes, I’m serious,” I said into the phone. Christopher had called to check on me, most likely because our mom had put him up to it. Blair had gone up to take a nap, and had I been watching more closely, I might’ve noticed sooner just how worn out he seemed the past two days. From what he described, however, he’d been traveling and partying pretty hard, so it made sense. Christ, just imagining his life made me exhausted. And also more than curious, but I didn’t want to be a perv. We were complete opposites, so whereas he probably enjoyed fucking every dude in sight, I preferred the stability of a relationship. I was a one-person guy, and even though my relationship with Lauren had fizzled out, I still missed her company and friendship; things had been strained between us since the breakup. “I’ll let you know if anything changes. It’s my fault for showing up here without checking with you.”
“So what are you going to do?” Christopher asked. He’d already filled me in on their agenda out west, and I momentarily regretted bowing out. But that only lasted a few seconds and had more to do with guilt. Along with my shitty mood, I would’ve been under my parents’ scrutiny about Lauren, and I wasn’t quite ready to tell my family what I’d been going through. I did think they would accept my coming out—they had treated Blair like he was their own—but admitting stuff out loud was so fucking hard, and I didn’t know if I was ready.
“Just hang out and try not to get in each other’s way, and maybe leave when one of us does?”
Christopher chuckled. “Oh, I can just imagine Blair now. Don’t spout off too many sports stats at him, or he’s bound to pop a blood vessel.”
Beautiful Temptation (So This is Christmas Book 2) Page 3