by JD Ruskin
“Wow,” Caleb said, flopping over onto his side on the cushions.
Logan laid his forehead on the couch and reminded his lungs that breathing was a good idea. After a few minutes, he felt Caleb move on the couch.
“Was it okay? I mean… w-what you w-wanted?” Caleb asked, sounding tentative enough to cut into Logan’s afterglow.
Logan managed to summon the energy to raise his head a couple of inches. “You’re not allowed to be insecure after frying all the brain cells in my head.”
When Caleb didn’t respond, Logan sighed. From vixen to blushing virgin. Hauling himself up, he clambered onto the couch, pinning Caleb beneath him. When Caleb turned his head away, Logan didn’t stop him. Instead, he asked, “Did you like what we did?”
Caleb blinked rapidly, his eyes turning wet and glistening, and Logan felt a surge of panic race through his gut. “Shit, did I hurt you?”
“No,” Caleb said, wiping an escaping tear from his cheek. “You didn’t hurt me. I just….” He rubbed at his eyes. “Why can’t I just enjoy the moment? Why do I….” He made a move to slide off the couch, but Logan used his weight to keep Caleb in place.
“Don’t run away.”
“Let me up.”
“Why? So you can go hide in your bedroom?” Leaning down, he kissed Caleb on the forehead, and then each eyelid and each corner of his mouth. “Do you think that little slab of wood can keep me away from you?” He watched Caleb work through whatever shit was going through his head. “I’d say I was sorry for suggesting it, but I’d be lying. Watching you touch yourself was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Caleb’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“I’ll be jacking off to the memory from now on when I’m hot and horny at my place, wishing I’m with you.”
Caleb sighed, a small smile on his lips.
LOGAN HOPED the dark clouds looming overhead weren’t a sign for how the day would go. A 3:10 start on a weekday and the threat of rain were enough to keep the fair-weather fans away. Caleb vibrated in his seat, either from anxiety or an attempt to avoid freezing to death in drizzling fifty-degree weather. Logan scrunched in his seat as best he could with the limited space. He’d likely converted the seat behind him to obstructed view, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Caleb’s gaze roamed over the stadium, seeming to take in all the details. “Thank you for this,” he said, so sweetly he might as well have shoved his tongue down Logan’s throat. The sappy look Logan knew was on his own face probably wasn’t helping matters, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
He noticed a stocky guy to Caleb’s right, dressed in blue and red like nearly everyone else in the stadium, staring. The girl next to him had long, blond hair and was busy bitching about the cold. The man appeared more resigned than hostile as he first glanced at his girlfriend and then back to Caleb. Stuck between a whiney girlfriend and a fag, the look said. As long as the guy didn’t give them any trouble, he could think whatever he wanted.
“I still can’t believe they traded Zambrano to the Marlins,” Caleb said. “I’m going to miss his water cooler hissy fits.”
The neighbor snorted. “I swear the man would rather get a homerun than a perfect game.”
And then they were off, rambling about stats and future prospects like they were the best of buddies. Logan couldn’t follow half of it, so he didn’t try. He shared a look with the girlfriend before he said, “I’ll hit the concession stand.”
Pulling himself away from his new best friend, Caleb asked, “Do you want me to go with you?” And make sure you stay away from the beer being the unspoken message.
“Nah, I’ve got it. Don’t want you to miss the opening pitch.” He already knew what Caleb wanted. Caleb had described it in such graphic detail last week that Logan had had to jump him. Caleb took food porn to an all new level. Heading down the stairs, a portly guy passed Logan with what had to qualify as a vat of beer, since the guy needed two hands to carry it. He tried and failed to be disgusted by the sight. He weaved through the crowd toward the third base line to the concession stand Caleb had said he preferred. When his turn came, he ordered a foot-long hot dog loaded with onions, peppers, and sauerkraut for Caleb and Bases Loaded nachos for himself.
After making his way back to their seats, he handed Caleb his food and retook his seat. He then avoided looking at Caleb until he was sure the food was devoured. There was no way he could watch Caleb stuff a foot-long hotdog in his mouth and not get arrested.
In the fourth, the dark clouds moved off and the sky brightened. Caleb took one look upward and reached for his backpack. He pulled out two blue, plastic ponchos and handed one to Logan. Caleb quickly donned his poncho and encouraged Logan to do the same.
“I think it’s clearing,” Logan said, right before the heavens opened up and pissed all over him.
Caleb and his new best friend were rambling away when Logan got back from a trip to the john. Caleb must have seen something in his face, because he smiled sheepishly.
“I realized I never even asked if you’re a White Sox or a Cubs fan.”
Caleb was so obviously trying to include Logan in the conversation that Logan was tempted to ignore the question just on principle. It didn’t help that he had no idea what to say. He doubted Caleb would appreciate the truth. He didn’t give a shit about either team and was only indulging Caleb’s love of baseball like a good little boyfriend. Come winter, he expected Caleb to park his ass on the couch every Sunday to watch football, preferably naked and draped over Logan’s lap. He intended to take full advantage of every commercial and halftime break. Opting for neutral, he said, “I like both, I guess. I’ve never had a preference.”
The entire stadium didn’t stop and stare as the words left his mouth, but damned if it didn’t feel that way. The look on Caleb’s face was less than comforting.
The asshole neighbor nudged Caleb’s shoulder and said, “You should dump him,” in a tone of absolute seriousness.
Caleb held up a hand as if to say “I can break up with my boyfriend without you.” He then spent ten years gathering his thoughts. “You’ve never mentioned this before,” he said, like Logan had neglected to tell him about a wife and two kids in the ’burbs.
They were starting to attract attention without a single voice being raised. An hour-long rain delay and icy winds meant only the diehards remained in the stands. They had to get their entertainment somewhere.
As Caleb appeared to be debating what to say, Logan wondered how he’d missed the fact he was dating a fanatic. His brain gave him a mental slap to the back of his head: He’s an agoraphobic at a baseball game, you moron. Wide open space. Check. Large, unruly crowd. Check. Uncontrollable conditions. Fucking check.
“Look, I don’t have anything against White Sox fans. I mean, it could be worse. They could be Cardinals fans.” Caleb’s lime-colored eyes narrowed. “You’re not a Cardinal fan, right?”
Logan shook his head vigorously. When Caleb gave him a look that could rival Dabb’s, he reluctantly added, “I’ve been to Cardinals games, but it was only a few times. A guy I knew who moved to St. Louis had season tickets and—”
“Do you want to switch seats with me?” The asshole yelped when his girlfriend smacked him in the arm. “What? I was just offering.”
Caleb snapped his fingers, ignoring the offer for the moment. “Try to imagine if I said I loved the Chicago Bears and the Green Bay Packers.”
“Huh.” Not liking big-time rivals made sense. Although, it seemed like it should be okay to be a Chicago fan. The Packers and the Bears weren’t even in the same state. Something told him he shouldn’t voice this opinion if he ever wanted to see Caleb naked again.
Looking ridiculously hopeful, Caleb asked, “Now do you get it?”
“If I say yes, will you promise not to dump me?”
Caleb patted his knee. “Yes.” And because he was an evil little shit, he added, “Unless the Cubs lose. Then, I’ll totally have to dump you or risk
jinxing next season.”
Because Mother Nature was a squealing fag-hag, the rain sputtered to a stop and the skies cleared. Logan was working himself up to a full-on sulk when Caleb’s cold hand snuck under the poncho to link their fingers. Caleb gave him a gentle squeeze, keeping their hands joined as they watched the ground crew pull the tarp off and prep the field. I’m in love with him, Logan realized with terrifying clarity. It wasn’t an emotion he’d felt before, and even as a part of him wanted to run screaming for the nearest exit, he knew it was the truth. It felt like his gut had been twisted together with tenderness and longing and caring into one giant knot. He felt like he would do anything to keep it tied. It wasn’t a love of equals that was for sure. He had a long road ahead to becoming the man who deserved to be sitting here, holding Caleb’s hand. That wouldn’t keep him from growling at anyone who dared to take his place.
As they moved with the crowd out of the stadium, Caleb kept himself plastered to Logan’s side. Glancing at his watch, Logan read the time: 7:30 p.m. There was barely enough time to get home before curfew if he left straight from the stadium and hit nothing but green lights. He’d never make it if he took Caleb home first. With the game being so close, he couldn’t have asked Caleb to bail early. Zambrano got a double in the sixth inning, but Logan wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, considering Caleb and his buddy had debated it until the final pitch. Zambrano walked away with a no decision, but his former team took the win.
Caleb pulled away from him and walked to the curb. Looking over his shoulder he said, “You’re going to need your own cab.”
“I’ve got time to take you home first.”
“I’ll be fine,” Caleb said, sounding braver than he looked. He clutched a bag of cotton candy like it was a teddy bear. “You’re wasting time. Now go.”
Logan didn’t have time to argue even if he thought it would work. Caleb had a stubborn streak a mile wide if he thought someone needed him. He settled for hailing a cab and discreetly speaking to the driver, slipping him an extra ten dollars to wait until Caleb got inside the building. Confident the driver would make damn sure Caleb got home safely, he stepped back and said, “Call me when you get home.” He forced his knees to unlock and walked away.
CALEB TOOK a deep calming breath that ended in a coughing fit. The air in the cab was thick with a spicy scent that made the inside of his nostrils burn. Leaning forward, Caleb asked the driver, “Do you have the time?”
“Quarter to eight, sir,” the man said in a thickly accented voice.
There was no way Logan would make it back to his apartment by the eight o’clock curfew. What if Dabb is waiting for him? And he ends up arresting Logan?
“Stop,” Caleb said, his cheeks flushing when the cabbie responded to the command.
“We are not there yet, sir.” The cabbie looked over his shoulder, sweat beading above his lip. “And your friend was most insistent I get you home safely.”
“Most insistent” being code for Logan scared him shitless by growling and deliberately staring at his ID card. If Caleb didn’t calm down, the guy would insist on escorting him to his apartment door like a prom date.
“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.” Caleb tried to keep composed for the rest of the trip home, focusing on his annoyance with Logan. He knew he had a spotty track record, but he wasn’t a child. He’d managed to go to Meng’s by himself. He could handle walking from the cab to his building without Logan intimidating the driver. He was still brooding when the car veered sharply and pulled to the curb. When he tried to pay for the cab, the driver wouldn’t take it, claiming Logan had covered the fare. He exited the cab rather than argue with the agitated man.
After keying the front entrance, Caleb entered the building and made his way to his floor. To his surprise, someone stood beside his door. “Karen? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you about Logan,” she said, sounding earnest.
Wary of her motivations, he said, “What about?”
Karen looked at her hands as if debating what to say. “I think Logan needs help and I know you’re his… friend.”
Flabbergasted, Caleb stared at her as she continued. She bit her lip. “I think he’s been drinking on the job.”
An immediate denial died on Caleb’s lips before he could voice it. He had seen the longing in Logan’s eyes when he looked at the patrons drinking beer at the game. What if he’s drinking at home when there’s no one there to see? What if that’s the real reason he doesn’t want me to visit? Caleb’s knees began to shake at the thought. When he had met Logan’s AA sponsor, Stacy, she had said relationship and money troubles were the top stressors for recovering alcoholics. What if the expensive tickets and my near meltdown sent him straight into a bottle of booze?
Karen gave an indelicate snort. “You should see your face.”
With a conscious effort, Caleb tried to focus on her. Was she joking? It seemed impossible that even she could be so cruel. “What are you talking about?”
She gave Caleb a hard smile. “Imagine how easy it would be for someone to convince Logan’s PO that he’s back to being an alky. Especially when Dabb finds out that Logan violated his parole a month ago by meeting me at a bar.”
Caleb felt a stab of irritation as he realized when she was talking about. Logan hadn’t mentioned it would violate his probation to meet her at a bar. Why did he agree to meet her there? Focusing on the here and now, he said, “Dabb’s too smart. He won’t believe you.”
“You did,” she said ruthlessly.
The truth in the words made the hot dog in his gut threaten to make a reappearance. He should have known better than to believe anything that came out of her mouth.
Likely sensing his distress, she went for the kill. “Could you live with yourself if you were the reason Logan got sent back to prison?”
Caleb sighed and rubbed his forehead. “What do you want, Karen?”
“Your uncle is retiring and his replacement officially takes over on Monday. I want you to convince Logan to leave with your uncle.”
Caleb gaped. He hadn’t known his uncle was thinking of retiring, let alone this week. Was the corporate head office forcing him out for someone younger and cheaper? It might explain why his uncle hadn’t mentioned it.
“Why do you need Logan to quit?” With a flash of understanding, Caleb understood why. Dabb. Dabb had permission from corporate to access the warehouse in order to check on Logan. And Logan had mentioned that Dabb had helped him get the job as a package handler. Maybe he knows someone at corporate. Dabb must scare someone like Karen shitless. But that still didn’t explain why the sudden rush to get rid of Logan’s PO.
“I could go to Dabb and tell him what you’re doing.”
She shook her head derisively. “You’re in love with Logan. You’d say anything to keep him out of jail and more importantly, you have no proof.”
The latter was certainly true. All those years ago at the warehouse, he had seen what? A Latino package handler he didn’t recognize stuffing something that looked like a stack of package labels under his shirt as he exited the bathroom stall. And he had seen Karen follow him out of the same stall. Suspicious, but no real proof of anything. Even tonight, she hadn’t admitted to committing a crime.
Holding up the phone, Karen said, “Time to call lover boy.”
Caleb raked a hand through his hair. “You expect me to convince him to quit his job over the phone? He needs Dabb’s permission to change jobs.” Trying another tactic, he asked, “Why call him now? He’s coming by after his shift tomorrow.”
“He had to agree to work a triple shift tomorrow to get off early today.”
Jesus. Fifteen hours? How could he survive that? Another thought trickled in. He did it for me. Caleb’s eyes burned and his throat thickened. He took the phone from her.
LOGAN DIDN’T look at his watch until he’d reached his apartment building. The lit screen revealed the time: 8:09. He opted to sprint up to th
e stairs rather than wait for the elevator.
Dabb was leaning against his apartment door eating from a package of M&M’s. Logan wasn’t even surprised. He felt oddly deflated. He hadn’t been late to curfew once and the one time he was, of course, Dabb was waiting for him. Dabb must have a hundred ex-cons assigned to him, and he couldn’t be everywhere. Logan didn’t know why he’d told Dabb about the game, except maybe wanting his PO to know he wasn’t a completely useless boyfriend.
Dabb wasn’t dressed to blend in to this neighborhood with his khaki pants, sandals, and fanny pack. But Logan doubted anybody gave his PO a hard time, and it wasn’t because his untucked shirt bulged slightly at the hip. Dabb didn’t need a gun to be a badass. He just was. Logan wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.
Unzipping the pack, Dabb ordered Logan to step closer. He held up the breathalyzer and gave Logan the order to blow. When the beep sounded, he looked at the display and said, “Glad to see you resisted the lure of ballpark Budweiser.” He put the tester away and pulled out a mininotebook. “Now let’s talk about the curfew violation,” he said while scribbling on the pad.
Logan sighed. “Shit weather and a rain delay made us late getting out of the game.”
Without looking away from his notebook, Dabb said, “Let’s go inside.”
“Fine, but I need to call Caleb and make sure he got home okay.” Logan unlocked the door and entered, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Caleb’s number. The phone rang before he could punch the Send button.
“Hey, baby.” Logan wanted to ask how the ride home had gone. Instead, he settled for asking, “How you doing?”