Forbidden Love

by Vivian Leigh

  “You aren’t acting fine. What’s wrong?” She pulled him toward the side door, away from the noise of the lanes.

  “It’s just a lot to take in,” he said once they were outside. His breath steamed in front him. “I’m used to being surrounded but a bunch of dudes with guns.”

  “Is it too peaceful?”

  “Nah, I wouldn’t call it that. It’s just overwhelming.”

  She rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms. “You want to get out of here for a while? I’ve only had a couple drinks; I can drive.”

  “I can’t just leave Robbie.”

  She grabbed his arm, tugged him forward. “Come on. Robbie’s fine. Alison won’t let anything happen to him.” She led him to her dad’s Tahoe, climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. I’d say home, but I don’t know where that is. I don’t think I’ve ever known.” He sipped his beer, stared out the window.

  Amanda started the truck. “Was it hard for you as a kid?”

  “What?”

  “Moving around so much?”

  “I hated it. Joining the military was the best thing I’ve ever done. I’m surrounded by my brothers, by my family.”

  Warm air blew from the vents, taking away the chill inside the truck. “We can just stay here. Chat a while. Go back in when you feel ready.”

  Robbie glanced at her, not really seeing her. “Okay.”

  “Or we can get in the backseat and...”

  His hand shook, the beer sloshing over his sleeve. “Huh?”

  “Just seeing if you were paying attention.” She grinned. Licked her lips suggestively. A rock hard Marine sounded more than alright. His easy smile and strong jaw practically made her weak in the knees. The fact that he wasn’t her brother even made it seem like a good idea.

  Dylan looked her up and down. His eyes lingered on her chest. The look didn’t have the salaciousness she expected; it was more a look of appraisal, of faint curiosity. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense.

  “So, uh…” He gulped down the last of his beer. “Should we go back inside?”

  Go back inside? What do I have to do, throw myself on him?

  “Sure,” she said, disappointed.

  He stopped outside the bowling alley door, at the edge of the light. “I’m sorry, Amanda.”

  “What?”

  “For staring. I talk a lot of shit with the guys, but I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You were fine.” She slid closer, touched his hip. “A girl likes to be appreciated.”

  “Oh.”

  Her head tilted back. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close for a kiss. Only it didn’t. He was already moving for the door, leaving her there feeling like an idiot.

  She stood in the cold and watched him go inside. What the hell just happened?

  Back in the bowling alley, in the crush of people and the cacophony of music and laughter, she wanted to kick herself. She’d blown it. The perfect chance to be with a man like Robbie, but that wasn’t her brother, and she’d blown it.

  “Have you seen Robbie?” she asked one of the girls at the bar.

  “Down on lane 12.” The girl pointed to the far end of the building. “They decided to bowl. There’s a six drink minimum, though.” She smiled, grabbed her beer.

  Amanda rolled her eyes and went to join the fun.

  The Ride Home

  DYLAN rode in the back in silence. Amanda kept checking him in the rear-view mirror, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Robbie sat in the passenger seat, his face sweaty and his eyes unfocused.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t go home with Alison,” Amanda said to her brother.

  “Ungh,” he waved the question away. “Pull over.”

  “What?”

  “Pull. Over.”

  She stopped the Tahoe and let Robbie shove open the door. He spewed all over the asphalt, gagging and spitting.

  A cold wind whipped into the cab, making her shiver and bringing the sour smell of beer with it. “You need to pace yourself better.”

  His back heaved again. More beer splashed the road. Finally, he sat up straight and closed the door. “There a napkin in here?”

  “In the console.” She glanced back at Dylan. He was snoozing, or pretending to. It was hard to tell in the dark.

  Robbie wiped his face and crumpled the napkin. “I feel better. Thanks.”

  “So about that pacing yourself…”

  “I’m not that drunk.” He over-enunciated each word, as if to prove that he was more sober than he really was. It didn’t work.

  “You just puked all over dad’s running board. You’re fucked up, bro.”

  He leaned against the door, let his head rest on the window. “Party on, man.”

  “Robbie, do you do this shit in Afghanistan? You’re going to kill yourself before the terrorists do.”

  “Don’t drink as much. There.” He rubbed his face.

  “Well, maybe you should slow it down while you’re here.” Her voice softened. “I’d hate to see you hurt yourself.”

  He didn’t respond.

  She leaned over and patted his leg. He caught her by the wrist, held her hand there.

  “Robbie?”

  A grin twitched at his lips. He slid the hand up his leg a few inches.

  Her heart rate double. All the moisture wicked from her mouth. She should jerk her hand away. Shouldn’t let him keep sliding it up, one joyful inch at a time. She felt him then, through his jeans. Thick. Firm. His grip was gone, but her hand remained. I can’t do this. Not again.

  She gripped the steering wheel with both hands, her fingers flexing white over the hard rubber. Outside, trees whipped past, a wispy fog between them. She held the wheel, focused on it, on the road. Ignored Robbie. Pretended she hadn’t just touched him like that. Pretended she didn’t want to do it again, that the first touch wasn’t enough.

  Her thumb found the stereo control on the steering wheel. Turned up the volume. Drowned out her conscience.

  Morning

  HER mom had left a note on the kitchen table about meeting for lunch after church. Fat chance that Robbie will be awake . Dylan had to help her drag him to his bed, then he hadn’t even made it back downstairs. He’d just collapsed next to Robbie. She’d had to take his blankets up to him.

  She scrounged up a bagel and a glass of juice, then went upstairs to get a shower. Something thumped in the hallway. Bedsprings squeaked. They were faint, but she followed them to Robbie’s door. The noise was definitely coming from his room. Had Alison snuck into the house? If that tramp was in there screwing around with Robbie and Dylan…

  She pressed her ear up against the door, listening for higher pitched moans. Apparently the little tramp hadn’t even latched the door, because it opened a few inches at her touch. The musky smell of sex filled the room. She peered in through the crack and dark room lit only by the shafts of sunlight that streamed through the gaps in the blinds. A bare ass confronted her. Flexing. Thrusting.

  There was moaning, to be sure, and none of it feminine. She stared as her brother and his… boyfriend? fucked right in front of her.

  They didn’t seem to be in a hurry. The one on top took his sweet time, plunging in deep and nearly pulling all the way out before plunging in again. With each thrust his lips found the bottom’s shoulder and gave it a wet, smacking kiss.

  Amanda scooted backward, pulled the door closed. She stood in the hallway, hands covering her face. There was no way to unsee what she’d just witnessed. The shock wore off after a minute or two, but the groaning on the other side of the door intensified, so she scuttled away to her own room.

  Robbie was gay.

  It hit her like a football to the face. He’d run away to war, left her there, and somehow he’d turned gay. She wanted to scream.

  Lunch with Parents

  "WHERE are the boys?” her dad as
ked as she sat down. A waiter brushed past the edge of the table, a platter of drinks held at his shoulder. The diner was full of the after-church crowd in their Sunday dresses and bad ties.

  “They were pretty hung-over,” Amanda said. “I didn’t want to wake them up.”

  “You kids had a good night at the bowling alley then?”

  “It was fun. I think Robbie got to see most of the old crew. Where’s mom?”

  “Bathroom. Did they have any girls over? Your mom was worried about that.”

  Amanda shifted in her seat. “Nope. I don’t think Robbie is as interested in Alison as she is in him.”

  “Well, what about Dylan? He’s a fine looking boy. You haven’t been…”

  “No, and if I had, I’d lie about it.” She grinned. “I’m a big girl, daddy. You don’t get to pry into my private life anymore.”

  He harrumphed, but didn’t argue. A waitress came over to the table. She wore a green apron covered in cheap metal buttons. “What can I get you to drink? We have peach Bellinis and our house chardonnay on special for $4.99.”

  “Sprite, please,” Amanda said. The waitress shrugged, popped her gum, left.

  “Well, if you do fool around with him, or anyone, be careful, huh?”

  Her eyebrows scrunched. “Dad. Seriously. I’m a big girl. I’m not a virgin. I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know what I missed, but it sounded exciting,” her mother said as she sat across from her.

  “Dad’s giving me the third degree about safe sex.”

  “Ernest, stop. She’s my daughter; that’s my job. Use a condom, dear. I don’t care if you are on the pill. He’s a soldier. There’s no telling what kind of weird Asian hookers he’s been with.”

  “Mom!”

  “Well, I’m serious. You’ll do what you want to do; I’m no fool. Just be safe.” She smiled. “Now, Ernest, did you tell her about the Packers tickets?”

  “Packers tickets?” Amanda said.

  “Lloyd Chalmers at church, you remember Lloyd, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lloyd gave me his tickets to the game tonight in Green Bay. Said Robbie needed ‘em more than he did.”

  “Really? How many?”

  “Four.”

  “I told your dad that he could take you and the boys.” Her mom patted her dad’s arm. “I’ll just go over to Susan’s for the evening. Speaking of the boys, where are they?”

  “Home. Asleep still, probably.”

  “You kids had a late night?”

  “They definitely took advantage of the free drinks. I brought them home around 1:00.”

  “That’s good. They deserve it.”

  Amanda shrugged. It didn’t feel right to lie to her parents. It felt less right to cover for her brother fucking another dude. “So the game is at 7:00, right? What time do we need leave?”

  “I thought we’d go after lunch,” her dad said. “If the boys aren’t awake when we get home, I’m sure they’ll get up for a chance to go to Lambeau.”

  “You’re probably right. I wonder if Dylan has any warm clothes with him?”

  “Robbie can loan him a coat. I was thinking that if they wanted to wear their uniforms we could probably get seats down by the bench.”

  “Ernest, really?” her mother looked appalled.

  “What?”

  “Using those boys for ticket upgrades?”

  “No, it’s not like that. Amanda, help me out here.”

  “He’s right. The NFL is big on veterans. It’s free advertising.”

  “You’re both terrible, you know.” Her mother took a sip of her tea. “But I hope you have a good time, anyway.”

  “I’m sure we will,” her dad said.

  The waitress returned with a stack of appetizer plates and a steaming dish of bread and spinach dip. “The spinach-artichoke dip, folks.” She set it in the middle of the table and passed the plates. “Do you want to wait for the rest of your party before you order?”

  “They won’t be joining us,” her father said. “We can order now.”

  Amanda paged through the menu, pretending to look for something, but she settled on the same chicken tender salad she normally ordered.

  Lunch went quickly with idle chatter about the Badgers and Packers and nothing that could get Robbie and Dylan into trouble.

  The Packers

  THE drive to Green Bay was painless, and with the boys both wearing their uniforms, getting into the stadium was easier than ever. They weren’t able to upgrade seats, but no one complained when they received passes to go down to the sideline before the game.

  Amanda stuck closer to her dad than to Robbie and Dylan, unsure what to make of their relationship.

  “What’s wrong, hon?” her dad asked. “Go with the boys. Get an autograph.”

  “Nah. I want them to enjoy it. This is about them, not me.”

  “Are you sure? Robbie won’t mind.”

  “Really, Dad. I’m good.”

  She edged around him and went over by the kickers. They had their little hockey goal things setup and were taking turns pounding balls into them. Each kick shook the frame and lifted the goal off the ground a few inches.

  “Hey, what’s your name?” one of the kickers called to her.

  “Amanda.”

  “You ever kick a football before?” He beckoned her over.

  “No.”

  “You want to try?”

  “I don’t have the shoes for it.” His face fell, but tearing up her favorite flats wasn’t high on her list of priorities, and going barefoot in the Wisconsin cold was even lower. “Why don’t you show me how, though?”

  He grinned. Jackson his jersey said. She felt bad for not knowing who he was. Must be a backup. He had a triangular holder and used it prop the ball up on the turf.

  “You have to pace yourself back like this.” He took three steps backward. “And then over.” Two more sideways steps. “Then you go back along the same line and power through the ball.” He hammered it into the net.

  “I don’t think I could do it. I’d pull something.”

  Jackson grinned. “You sure? I don’t mind.”

  “Hey, sis, come here!” Robbie called from farther down the sideline.

  “I gotta run,” she said to Jackson. “Thanks for the lesson.”

  “Yeah, sure, any time.”

  She hustled away toward Robbie and Dylan. “Oh, shit,” she said to herself as she approached Robbie. He was standing there with Dylan, the Packers starting quarterback between them.

  “Come get in the picture,” Dylan said.

  She slid between Robbie and the quarterback, let them each slip an arm around her shoulder.

  “Smile,” her dad said. He snapped a picture with his phone.

  “You guys enjoy the game,” the quarterback said. He flashed a grin to her.

  “Right on, dude. Give ‘em hell.” Robbie slapped him on the shoulder pads as he rejoined his teammates.

  “The platoon is not going to believe that,” Robbie said.

  “They’ll believe the picture, though,” Amanda said.

  “Yup.” Dylan grinned, his face practically split in half.

  Her dad pocketed his camera and pulled on his gloves. “Let’s go find our seats.”

  They made their way up to the bowl of seats of that surrounded the field. The first quarter went quickly, but the cold started to take hold midway through. Away from the sideline heaters, the “Frozen Tundra” nickname had never felt so apt. Amanda pulled her coat tighter, wishing she’d let her mom come instead.

  Next to her, Dylan’s teeth chattered. “You okay there?” her dad asked.

  “Yeah. New Mexico doesn’t have weather like this. Neither does Kandahar.”

  “Amanda, why don’t you and Dylan go get us some hot chocolate?” Her dad suggested. “Give him a few minutes to warm up.”

  She shrugged. “You want to?”

  “Okay.” He rubbed his gloved hands together.

  She
let him lead and make a path through the crowd, guiding him with instructions from behind. They stopped in the atrium at the end of a long line of people waiting to order food.

  “Is this place always so crowded?” Dylan asked.

  “Yeah. Season tickets have been sold out since 1960.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yup.”

  “You come to many games?”

  “Not really. We’ve made a few family trips over the years, and Dad and Robbie used to go to some when Robbie was in high school.”

  “Must have been nice.” He sounded wistful.

  “If you like cold. So you and Robbie are pretty good friends?”

  “Sure, I guess. Good enough for him to invite me home for Thanksgiving.”

  “Did you guys know each other before he got to Afghanistan?”

  “No.” His eyebrows hunched together. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious. You seemed like really good friends.”

  His eyes flicked away, then back. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you slept in the same bed last night.”

  “Soldiers get used to sleeping in tight quarters.”

  “How long have you two been fucking?”

  “What? What are you talking about?” His voice rose, betraying any hope he had of bullshitting her.

  “This morning I heard the bed squeaking. I thought Alison had snuck in. Then I saw you two doing it.”

  The blood drained from his face. “Stop. Don’t say anything else.”

  “Well, I’m a bit surprised. Robbie wasn’t gay when he joined the Marines.”

  “He’s not gay now. Not really.” He wiped his head, lowered his voice. “Look, you can’t tell anyone. It gets so lonely out there. There aren’t any women around, not unless you want to run the risk of getting stabbed or kidnapped or something.”

  “So you just fuck each other? I thought you were in the Marines, not the Navy.”

  “Would you stop. Please? We can both get kicked out if anyone finds out.”

  They shuffled forward, halfway to the front of the line already. “So if you’re not gay, why are you fucking each other here? Alison wanted Robbie’s dick so bad last night that half of Waukega knew it. Shit, they’re going to think Robbie’s gay just for not sticking it in her to shut her up.”