Torso Tackle

by R. W. Clinger

  I call Ben’s cell number and leave the same message. And Zoe’s, too. Why not? I need to apologize for my actions, heavy with guilt, overwhelmed by what has come about in the past six weeks. What kind of man am I if I don’t apologize?

  * * * *

  The following morning I stop at my office. Simone sits behind her desk, using her computer. She gathers up a stack of While You Were Out memos, passes them to me, and looks over her sexy horn-rimmed glasses. “Jory Sole canceled all of his visits with you, Sebastian. He said you would know why.”

  I reach for the stack of memos, nodding my head. All the color in my face is lost and my body starts to go limp. Feeling completely depleted, on the verge of falling to the floor, I escape to my private office where I can be somber and alone.

  Simone finds me about fifteen minutes later. She pops her head into my office and catches me wiping tears away from my eyes. The woman is a sweetheart, the sister I have never had, caring and supportive in everything I do at the center. No one could have a better secretary/assistant. “Can I come in, Sebastian?”

  I nod my head, sniffling.

  She places a cup of hot tea in front of me on my desk; orange pekoe and cinnamon. She sits across from me, leans over the desk in a comforting manner, and says, “You’re having a very bad day. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I toss a used tissue into the garbage to my left. “I shouldn’t burden you with my problems.”

  “Sweetie,” she says in the softest tone, “I adore you. When you are miserable, I am miserable. Now, let’s have a one on one and you can fill me in on your complexities. Maybe I can help.”

  I sniffle and smile, glad that she finds her way into my office. Perhaps this is why I consider her a true friend. Helplessly, I become a rambling mess and explain everything that has happened in the last six weeks with Jory, Ben, and Zoe; leaving no detail spared.

  Simone is quite attentive, consuming all of my drama, and asks, “Do you love Jory Sole?”

  I don’t even have to think about it. “With all my heart.”

  “And Ben?”

  “The sex. I loved the sex we had. The guy knows how to use his cock. But that’s over with. Ben will probably get back together with Zoe again.”

  Simone rises from her seat and moves around the desk to kneel next to me. She squeezes me against her and says, “Ben and Zoe will get over this. If they are true friends, which I believe they are, both will let you into their lives again. You’ve learned about crossing lines, which means you won’t be sleeping with Ben in the future. Zoe sounds like she loves you as a best friend. Give her some time and she’ll scoop you up again as that best friend.”

  “And Jory?” I inquire. “What about him?”

  She kisses my cheek, squeezes me again. “That’s a little more complex. Pray to the gay gods that he comes back to you. You really fucked things up with him.”

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  “It’s what makes us mortal, honey. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “I was thinking with my cock and not my heart.”

  “That sometimes happens. But it doesn’t mean Jory won’t come around and forgive you. Some guys are soft like that. If this guy loves you enough, if he can find a place in his heart for you and your mistakes, then he’ll be back for you.”

  “Only time will tell,” I respond, gently pull away from her, and take a sip of the soothing smelling tea.

  Chapter 35: Coffee Talk

  Christmas and New Year’s crawl by. I spend both alone, catching up on my reading, building puzzles on the coffee table, and watching a few movies. The New Year brings more lonesomeness, quiet time, and irritation. I don’t want to be left alone. I don’t like the constant self-entertaining. Bottom line, I had something good with Jory…something unbelievably amazing…something that felt right…and I unfortunately blew it. I had friends in Ben and Zoe, and blew that, too. What the fuck was I thinking? Why was I greedy and deceptive and irresponsible and selfish and out of control? Couldn’t I just be an ordinary boyfriend to Jory and not fuck things up?

  My shame is crushing. By mid-January, when Vanmer’s weather is at its coldest, in the single digits, I become a hermit, lost in the apartment. The only time I leave is to go to the center, spend eight to ten hours working, and return home. I receive no visitors, no e-mails or phone calls from the trio.

  Simone is a doll, of course. She begs me to have a drink with her on numerous occasions, but I politely decline. I tell her. “I don’t want to suck you into my pain. Be with your boyfriend and have fun together. Don’t even think about me.”

  Simone gets it. She kisses me on my forehead, unwilling to press me to change my mind. Her theory is simple. Some people have to become lost before they are found.

  Eventually, I push myself to spend an evening at Against His Chest. I try to find a guy to go home with, to lick and fuck him and forget about Jory for just a few hours. To no avail, I can’t bring myself to open up to any of the bare-chested hunks. I ignore the marine named Marco, finally home from Afghanistan and willing to have some raunchy sex. I disregard a guy named Timmy, a baseball jock with muscles out the wazoo. I can’t even stand to look at Russ, a mechanic from First Street with fall-into blue eyes and a blimp-size package between his legs. Instead, I choose to sit at the bar alone and sip my woes away on vodka and ginger ale. This is my new life. This is how I have become. I deserve nothing less, of course.

  * * * *

  At the end of January, I learn that the Vipers go to the championship and win the season. Jory Sole is titled the player of the year, and his team ends up with a giant trophy and rings. Out of respect, because I’m proud of him, and maybe because I miss him more than any anyone else, I pop an e-mail off to him.

  Jory—

  I know you don’t want to hear from me. Not that I blame you. I just wanted to say congrats on your win. You’re amazing to watch on the field. You’re really good at what you do. Miss you.

  —S.R.

  * * * *

  Zoe calls my cell phone on February 1, blowing me away. I decide to take the call. “Hello.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” It’s the only thing I can find to say. My heart races and I’m nervous, unsure of why she’s calling. Simone’s advice rings within my memory, filling my mind. Zoe sounds like she loves you as a best friend. Give her some time and she’ll scoop you up again as that best friend.

  “Can you meet me at The Muffin Shack in twenty minutes for a coffee?”

  “I can.”

  * * * *

  She looks glorious at one of the small tables; beautiful as ever, prim, and proper. She’s dressed for the cold in a wool coat, matching hat, gloves, and boots. Winter does her look well, a fashion model in the making for Vogue, Cosmopolitan, or Glamour.

  We hug, and she places a kiss on my cheek. We order coffee from Joseph, which he says is on the house because he broke my heart a long, long time ago and has never gotten over me, unable to forgive himself. Secretly, I can now relate to his pain and understand exactly how he feels. I too have lost someone I’ve loved, and I’m afraid I’ll never have the opportunity to get him back. Nor can I forgive myself for such damage that I have irreversibly caused.

  Once seated, Zoe says, “I’ve missed you, Sebastian. My life has been so boring because of our falling-out. Something like that never should have happened.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was doing some crazy things, and acting foolish. I have regrets.”

  She reaches across the table, finds one of my hands, humbly squeezes it, and admits, “I too have been foolish. I shouldn’t have pushed you to the floor, cracking your skull open. And nor should I have told Jory about your relationship with Ben. I was behaving like an animal, Sebastian, and I’m sorry.”

  “We’re catty,” I whisper, overwhelmed with joy regarding this coffee talk and her presence.

  “I know. But that’s all over with now,” she replies, squeezing my hand again
and validating our friendship; allowing me back in her life for good, long-term, sealing us together as best girlfriends again.

  Chapter 36: Admission

  Through Zoe, I learn that Ben is safe and healthy and is slowly emerging into her life as a boyfriend again. She informs me, “Ben is traveling a lot, consumed in his career. I rarely see him here in Vanmer. In the past few weeks, he’s been to Miami, New York, San Francisco, Toronto, Maui, Maine, and other places. The man is constantly taking his clothes off for other people. Rumor has it he’ll be going to Milan this summer for a modeling job. Some big company wants him to be a main cover boy for their clothes line. We’ve been talking about me going with him. I’ve never been to Milan and he thinks I’d enjoy it, particularly if I’m with him.”

  It’s good news. Healthy news. I never wanted any harm to come to either of their lives. I never wanted to be villainous after our shared turbulence. I’m not that type of man, and never will be.

  She also mentions that he wants to move in with her, no longer continuing his adventures with men. “I won’t let him make the move just yet. We’re still building trust between us. I want to make sure he’s not going to leave me for another man, or have trysts with men on the side, if you know what I mean.”

  I do. How can I not understand her? Ben was living an alternative lifestyle behind her back, with me. I was a catalyst for him, something that motivated his sexual urges and questions regarding his attraction to men–particularly me.

  “He’s going to call you one of these days and make a point to talk to you. He misses you, like I have. It’s just…”

  “My cock is in the way,” I whisper, clarifying exactly what she’s trying to say, but is unable to find the appropriate words.

  “Yes. That’s it. We’re both worried about that. You two were spending too much time together in your apartment. You’re a nice man, Sebastian. Plus, you’re an easy man to look at, if you know what I mean. You can offer a lot to another man…and Ben fell for you, which he shouldn’t have.”

  I don’t know if it’s a compliment or not. I decide it’s better to keep my mouth shut, enjoy my coffee, and listen to her prattle. In truth, it’s just nice to see her and have her in my company again. I’ve missed Zoe to the fullest, and cherish this moment with her.

  “I’m worried that he’ll slip into your bed again and…start things with you.”

  “Did Ben tell you that?” I inquire, surprised to hear this.

  She nods her head. “Ben was honest with me after my rampage. He told me everything. No detail was spared.” She takes a sip of her coffee, swallows, and continues. “I appreciate his honesty. It’s only bringing us together. He blames a lot of this mess on himself, since he seduced you. He called you sexually weak, unable to stop him when he pounced on your skin. He told me you’ve had a crush on him for years, a sexual longing of sorts, which didn’t help the way he felt for you.”

  I confess nothing to Zoe, although everything she says is true. Instead, I take all of her rambling in, find it informative and soulful, and something I need to hear because of my own guilt.

  “He loves you,” she admits. “Maybe not your penis, but everything else about you; your heart and mind, your tenderness and friendship. Ben told me that he accidentally got caught up in you, that he wanted to push himself away from you, but couldn’t…until I found out that the two of you were involved. He called it brotherly love of sorts. A bond between guys that maybe went a little bit too far. He clings to people like this, and it’s hard for him to let go once he does. This is what happened with the other guys he fell for before you came along. He’s always done this, which I didn’t know about. There’s no name for it, no drug to help. It is what it is.”

  “I never loved him,” I finally whisper. “And if I did, it was only as a friend.”

  “I know that,” she says. “You loved Jory. That was obvious.”

  “I still do.”

  “I know. I can see it in your eyes. You’re broken. You’re lost.”

  “And you’re very observant.”

  The young woman winks at me, takes a sip of her coffee again, and swallows the liquid down. “From one girlfriend to another, Sebastian…let me work on this. I helped destroy the two of you, and maybe I can put you back together. I can’t promise a miracle, though. The only thing I can do is try.”

  “Try away.” I attempt a smile, but fail. “I’d have Jory back in a second, but only if he wanted me.”

  “I also see that in your eyes.” She reaches across the table again, squeezes my hand, and smiles as my returned girlfriend.

  Chapter 37: Cowboy

  A new gay bar opens in Vanmer: The Appaloosa. Opening night offers tokens for two free drinks. Dudes dressed as cowboys get a six-pack of beer to take home to their sex-buddies. The place is rawhide cool with a rodeo for the dance floor, wagon wheels as lights, and bare-chested cowboy waiters lassoed in bull rope as they serve patrons their favorite brews. A mechanical bull sits in one corner; a rugged cowboy rides as long as he can, gets bucked off, and his beefy boyfriend takes him home to soothe his wounds. Cowboys line dance and twinks dressed in Stetsons blow faux Texan boys in dark corners, or in the back room called The Cowboy Pit, where only the willing carry out a man-on-man-on-man orgy.

  I don’t know why I go to the new bar. God knows I have better things to do like stay at home and build another puzzle. In truth, I need to get out, enjoy the gay bar scene again, and maybe meet the man of dreams after losing Jory.

  Although most of the guys at the bar are dressed as cowboys, I decide not to. It's hard enough for me to find the energy to pull some clothes on and leave the apartment. I stand at the bar, drink a Rolling Rock, and take in the Brad Paisley music.

  I happen to see Jory dressed as a cowboy on the rodeo dance floor. He does a two-step with a guy who looks just like me; blue eyes, blond hair, medium-size build, nice face, and my Matt Damon smile. I swear to God, the guy looks like my twin.

  I watch from afar, hiding behind a bunch of college guys who are doing shots of whiskey, obtaining a fast buzz on the shit and laughing their cute asses off. The quintet passes a drug around, snorting it up their noses, getting their rocks off for the night. All are adorable, nicely built, and seem to have the time of their lives in the new bar.

  Jory does a mean dance with his new-found blond. Their bare chests and middles grind together in a heated dance. My twin holds his fingers in Jory’s denim loops at the quarterback’s waist. Jory is now kissed with tongue, compressed to the guy’s face. The kiss is long and tender; everything I don’t want to witness.

  A stranger comes up to my side; some cute thing with red hair, freckles, a straw cowboy hat and bib overalls. One denim strap is not secure on his shoulder and hangs limp over his firm chest. A strawberry-colored nipple is exposed. The guy’s eyes are a piercing green and intoxicating. He rubs his bare shoulder against my cotton tee-covered one, and asks in his best Dallas drawl, “You want to ride me tonight, partner?”

  It’s a lame pick-up line and I try to ignore Freckles. My attention is on Jory, connected to his bogus me on the rodeo dance floor. Freckles doesn’t take my hint, though. He reaches between my legs, finds my limp package, gives it a gentle squeeze, and asks, “Hey cowboy, why don’t you come back to my ranch for some naughty action?”

  Irritated, I turn to Freckles. “I think you’re cute. A prize. I’m into someone else, though.”

  Freckles finally backs away from me and leaves me alone to watch Jory and his date.

  * * * *

  Kenny Chesney blares from overhead speakers. He sings something about a sexy tractor as Jory and his cowboy mill together, combining their aligned cocks, bare nipples, and hungry mouths. I witness them kiss again, dance wildly, and obnoxiously drink. They clink beers together, share some talk, and kiss again, which depletes me.

  When Jory decides to leave The Appaloosa with the guy, our eyes lock together by accident. Three dudes in the bar separate us, but it doesn’t prevent
him from seeing me at the bar. Open-mouthed, fully stunned by my presence, the smile on his face falls away and he unintentionally furrows his brow. He is shaken, unnerved at the moment, and at a loss for words at the sight of me. All the color in his beautiful face washes away and the quarterback is ultimately stunned.

  To no avail, we never speak to each other. He doesn’t stop or peel himself away from the look-alike me as they depart the bar together. My twin pulls him through the dancing crowd and social cowboys at the bar. Jory vanishes from my company again, quickly this time; perhaps the way it is meant to be between us.

  Chapter 38: Some Solace

  Seeing Jory with another man breaks me to the fullest. I know for a fact that he and I don’t stand a chance of getting back together now. It’s quite clear to me that he has moved on, leaving me behind, repairing from the damage I have inadvertently caused in his life. When I witness him leaving The Appaloosa with his new blond friend, everything inside my system completely shatters. My chance with the quarterback of the Vipers is ruined. Our game together is over and he has won. The final score is in and Jory takes the championship between us. No longer will he tackle my torso, hold me against his hulking frame, and devour my skin in a needy manner. Our time together has ended, prompting me to get on with my life, move forward—something.

  Zoe tries to console me, lifting my spirits. She finds me in my apartment unshaven, bath-less, and in my pajamas. It’s a Saturday, late in the afternoon, and both of us know I should be out having some city fun, changing my life, adding some spice to it. This isn’t the case, though. Instead, I’m depleted, in a state of disrepair and misplaced.

  “Jesus, Sebastian, you’re a mess.” She begins to clean the apartment; washing dishes, making my bed, picking up clothes off the floor. Once the place is looking half-decent, she barks, “Christ, guy, you’re going to have to get a grip! Everything about you is falling apart. You’re ruining yourself.”

  I tell her about what I saw at The Appaloosa the night before, and how it has left me devastated. I admit, “I haven’t been the same since. All I can do is think of Jory kissing that other guy who looked just like me, and going home to his place. It’s like a bad flashback that happens inside my head every other minute, and I can’t let it go.”