Wilder, Winona - Choosing Love [Coming Out 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)
Page 1
Coming Out 1
Choosing Love
Cal has hidden his true feelings from Waylon for years, not willing to jeopardize their friendship. After a night of drunken passion, the truth finally comes out. While Cal learns to accept his true nature, Waylon is afraid to risk alienating his family. Will he live in denial or choose love?
With the help of their sexy history teacher, Evan, the three men learn that love has no boundaries. But are evenings filled with hot sex enough to forge a lasting ménage?
Note: This book contains physical abuse of the hero.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 20,129 words
CHOOSING LOVE
Coming Out 1
Winona Wilder
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
CHOOSING LOVE
Copyright © 2011 by Winona Wilder
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-223-2
First E-book Publication: March 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Choosing Love by Winona Wilder from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
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This is Winona Wilder’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Wilder’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
For all those who dare to choose love over blind acceptance.
CHOOSING LOVE
Coming Out 1
WINONA WILDER
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
Cal surveyed the field, still slick from last night’s rainfall. The players ran back to the sidelines, mud splashing up to further stain their tight white pants. From the safety of the bleachers, he sat, leaning over his knees watching the team finish up their practice. That’s what men did. They enjoyed sporting events, anything to do with the game or school spirit. But Cal would be lying to himself if he said he was there just to cheer the guys on. He came out every Tuesday and Thursday to watch only one man, Waylon Matthews.
Yes, Waylon had a girlfriend—the college tramp fitting of the star quarterback. There was nothing wrong with dreaming, with fantasizing. Cal knew full well that he’d never reveal the love threatening to undo him. Or come forward with his sexuality. He tried that a few years earlier and still regretted the decision to share his secret with his mother and stepfather. Cal learned in a hurry that love wasn’t always unconditional.
“Hey!”
“You looked good out there.” Cal stood up as Waylon neared. The guy was built like a brick shithouse, solid sinewy muscle, tight abs and firm ass. Waylon wasn’t just Cal’s fantasy on two legs, but also his best friend, which made life complicated at best. There was no way he’d jeopardize their friendship by sharing his true feelings. Guys like Waylon were one hundred percent male, proud of the testosterone that flowed through their veins, and quick to judge any man with even an inkling of femininity. Cal wasn’t feminine, but announcing he was gay would not go over well.
“It was a fucking nightmare. I can’t believe the coach made us practice in that mud hole.” Waylon stretched his neck out to each side and dropped his helmet on the bleacher. “You wanna go get some lunch?”
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
The sun highlighted Waylon’s short blond hair. Cal had to fight the temptation to wipe a smear of mud from his cheek or just stare at him like a lovesick fool. He had to fight a shitload of temptations when it came to his friend making every day a struggle. It could get pretty damn depressing when you loved someone and couldn’t act on your feelings. There would never be a happily ever after for Cal, and although he accepted that fact, it didn’t hurt any less.
When Waylon came back out of the school, changed and ready to go, he had Stephanie in tow. Cal leaned against his car, his expression blank as the two neared. If he had to spend another lunch with that little airhead, he’d lose it.
“You mind if we bring Steph along? She found me in the hallway.”
“Sure.” Maybe his voice was a little more monotone than necessary, but he wasn’t happy. Watching the two lovebirds tore him apart, and sitting across from them at the diner was unadulterated torture. But even despite his secret feelings for Waylon, Stephanie was all wrong for him. No way did his friend love her. He only used her for sex, and maybe the bragging rights of dating the hottest girl in the college. Cal could understand wanting to fit in, but Waylon was a god—he had nothing to prove to anyone.
They drove to the diner, less than ten minutes away. Stephanie sat in the backseat alone. He caught her doing her makeup through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes. To his right, Waylon looked over his new class schedule for the second semester, which went into effect on Monday. Cal hadn’t even opened his yet.
“Will you look at that!” blurted Waylon, waving the paper between them. “You took American History, right? I think we have the same class.”
“Do you have any with me?” Stephanie leaned up between their seats, trying to grab the paper that Waylon held out of reach.
“I doubt it.” He tucked the paper into his back pocket, and
Cal had to divert his greedy gaze from drinking in the man’s body. His jeans were tight, leaving little to the imagination. It didn’t help that he’d seen him undress after numerous practices.
They pulled into the parking lot and made their way into the local diner, the bells clanging against the glass door as they entered. It was bustling with college kids, as usual. They had the best homemade burgers in town. Loud ruckus filled the interior, and Cal immediately tried to scope out a free booth. There was no need. As soon as some of the jocks noticed Waylon, they called his friend over, happy to spend time with the popular star player. Cal followed behind and took a seat once a booth was cleared out for them. They only reason they accepted Cal was due to association. Otherwise, they wouldn’t know he existed.
After saying their good-byes, the large group of men left the diner, leaving only the usual murmur of voices. Cal mindlessly leafed through the plastic-covered menu, already knowing what he’d order. He just didn’t want to look up and see the perfect couple. Although they rarely became intimate in public, not even many kisses, he didn’t want to see them side by side.
Stephanie leaned over on her elbows, getting in Cal’s space. She had a conspiratorial look on her face, which was common with her. Every month, every week, her tormenting increased. He assumed she was jealous of all the time Waylon spent with him.
“What?” Cal snapped, biting his tongue the next moment.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend? You’re not that bad looking, and I’ve known you for two years now.”
He held his breath, his chest seizing. So this was how a deer felt when caught in the headlights. There was no reason to suspect that Cal was into guys rather than girls, but he’d always had the feeling that everyone somehow knew. What reason could he have for not dating? Normal men in their twenties had girlfriends, or at bare minimum, dated occasionally.
“You looking?” Humor was his best ally when he felt pressed against a wall. Waylon continued to sit with his back against the red vinyl upholstered bench seat. What was he thinking? Did he sense something was amiss with him, too?
“Shut up, Cal. I like my men big and muscled.” She squeezed Waylon’s bicep for emphasis. No, Cal wasn’t close to Waylon’s size or buffness, but he wasn’t skin and bones either. Stephanie was just a bitch, and he hated being downsized by her in front of Waylon. “Maybe you just don’t measure up. Is that it? I mean, you’re only twenty-two, right? Are guys’ dicks even full grown at that age?”
“Leave him alone.” Waylon pulled his arm away and piled up the menus on the center of the table. He knocked on the wood laminate once, and the waitress, eager to serve him, hustled over with her pad and pen.
There wasn’t much conversation through lunch. Stephanie talked just to hear herself, not realizing that the two men were more quiet than usual. She even had the nerve to bring up comparisons of them again, even after Waylon had warned her to knock it off. According to her, if Cal joined the football team and bulked up, he’d be able to land a girl. Whatever. Next time she wanted to tag along, he’d pass on lunch. As much as he wanted to spend time with his best friend, it wasn’t worth dealing with this other half. You didn’t emasculate a man by talking about the size of his dick.
Back at the college, Cal parked and slammed the door shut behind him, wasting no time in getting to the front doors.
“Hey! Why the hurry?” Waylon called after him.
He spun and continued walking backwards. “I have to check on my schedule. See ya.” Cal just wanted to be alone for awhile. What he really needed to do was reevaluate his whole fucking life.
As he navigated the long, waxed floors in the east hallway, he tore open his schedule from the sealed envelope and noted that he did indeed share American History with his friend. He wasn’t sure if his summer class credit had gone through, and being a prerequisite, he decided to speak with the teacher. The history room was one of the larger in the school, with stadium seating, and currently empty save the teacher. He was busy filing through paperwork, oblivious to Cal entering the room.
He cleared his throat. “Professor Hawke?”
The teacher looked up and faced him. The man wasn’t aged like many of the other teachers. Rather, he appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Even sitting, Cal could tell he’d be tall, with a healthy, solid frame. His chocolate brown hair was casually styled in slight disarray. It would be a pleasure to sit in front of him every day. If nothing else, he’d have a good show. With the hot professor and Waylon in the same room as him for over an hour each day, he’d be hard as rock by the time the period finished.
“Can I help you?” He stood and approached Cal, running a hand through his tousled hair. A cute grin pulled at his mouth, as if he knew a secret joke and wasn’t telling.
“Hi, I’ll be in your class on Monday and wanted to be sure you received my summer credit.”
“You’re Calvin Waters, aren’t you?”
He couldn’t help but frown. He’d never met this teacher before, so he shouldn’t be able to recognize him. “That’s me. But—”
Mr. Hawke chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t have ESP. I just happened to be going over your file this morning. Everyone’s, for that matter.” He casually sat on the edge of his desk. “I like to know my students before classes start.”
“So is everything in order, then?”
“It’s all good. You ready for Monday?” His voice was deep with a rich timbre. It must have been the man’s good looks, plus the position of authority he held that made Cal hyper aware of his own body’s response. His heart and breathing rate picked up, and his mouth felt dry. No man besides Waylon affected him this strongly.
“I’ll be here.”
“Good. I look forward to it, then.” That too-cute smile, complete with a dimple, made its reappearance. Damn, the man was fine. No doubt he’d be married, with two point five kids—white picket fence and all. Cal was a sick fuck. No wonder why his parents disowned him. He was a freak of nature and destined to live out a miserable life constantly tamping down his deviant desires.
Cal offered a half grin and nodded before making like a bat out of hell. He couldn’t wait to finish his last class and get home. It was Friday, so he would be free to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
Chapter Two
Waylon fidgeted in class the whole hour, his leg maintaining an impatient rhythm. He couldn’t believe the way Steph had called out Cal in the diner. The second she closed her big mouth, he could practically feel the tension in the air. Although Cal was a master at hiding his feelings, as usual, no man wanted to hear someone talk degradingly about their size—in any department. All Waylon could think about was finding Cal and making sure he was okay. Steph was all talk and never thought before she spoke. Surely his friend knew that by now.
The teacher continued to blather on, but Waylon couldn’t concentrate. All he saw was Cal’s facial expression at the diner, and he couldn’t focus on the room of students or the teacher standing up at the front blackboard. Cal was his best friend, and though he usually laughed off Steph’s comments, he’d been more intense lately. Waylon wouldn’t allow a girl to come between them. If need be, he’d break it off with Steph. It’s not like they loved each other. Their relationship was for show, and they both knew it and had no problem with the ruse.
As soon as the minute hand hit the half hour, Waylon bolted from his seat and made his way to the door. He didn’t care that the class hadn’t been officially dismissed— he had to catch Cal before he left the grounds. Nothing else mattered. Of course, the teacher never attempted to call him back or question his actions. He was the crown jewel of the college, bringing victory after victory for their football team. The staff would let him get away with murder.
When he exited the side doors, emerging into the bright light of the afternoon sun, he had to squint to see the parking area. Cal was ducking into the driver’s side of his car. Waylon broke into a jog.
“Hey! Where you off to in such a hurry?” Waylon lea
ned into the open driver’s side window, his hands resting on the roof of the car.
“It’s Friday. I’m going home,” Cal said flatly.
“I wanna talk to you for a minute.”
“Look, now’s not a good time, okay.” Cal reached to put his keys in the ignition, but Waylon grabbed his wrist and snatched his keys. Once sure that his friend couldn’t escape, he stood back and waited.
Cal exhaled in irritation, stumbled out of the car, and slammed the door with enough force that several students stopped and stared. Waylon gave them a look that hurried them on their way. “I just wanna talk.”
“Well, talk, because I have nothing to say.”
“I’m sorry about the things Steph said. You can’t take her seriously.”
Cal crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth. I’m a scrawny loser with no girlfriend…and apparently a child-sized dick.” He wouldn’t look him in the eye.
Waylon didn’t care if anyone watched at this point. He wouldn’t have his friend hurting. “You’re not scrawny.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, he gave him a little jerk. “You’re all lean muscle and handsome as hell. Any girl would be a fool not to go out with you.”
Cal’s rigid features softened, but his breathing remained labored. “You’re one to talk. You’re every girl’s wet dream.”
“Listen, Cal, everyone has different tastes. Some like a bigger frame, but I guarantee you there are a shitload that want an athletic guy like you.” Cal could easily try out for modeling. He had that chiseled jaw, straight nose, and fuck-me eyes that made women gaga. If he chose not to date, that was his choice. A lot of students chose not to mix school with pleasure.