At first, I’m confused but then I catch on. I say no and I’m kind of smiling inside because this is one of our little secrets now. What happened the first time he took me to see one of his erections.
I can almost feel Jordan rolling his eyes in the front seat, but he doesn’t take his eyes off his phone until I mention that I have seen his work. “It’s all just so blue,” I say.
He spins around. “Don’t go getting a big head. Your eyes were a point of inspiration. That’s it.”
I smile. “Yeah…mmhhmm…”
He’s laughs up there and I do too. The mood stays light. I love it. I love that we can be together like this. Three guys. Nothing hidden. My best friend knows I’m crushing on his dad and it’s not super smooth but at least we’re not at each other’s throats. I know that he was crushing on me but at least we can kind of move past it.
I do wish that Davis and I were together but maybe I’ll have a little time to talk to him before he leaves. I still want him to see my side of the story. I feel flushed just thinking about the possibility that we might pick up where we left off last night.
The drive to where the sculpture is doesn’t take long. I realize we’re there when Davis slows as we approach a small park right off the lake. “This one’s new,” Davis says cutting the ignition. Though I can’t see it fully through the trees. I only see glints of light off metal.
“You got to install one right here at the Lake?” I’m amazed. People must be crazy for his work if it’s on the Public Art level.
He shrugs, “One of my first patrons is a friend of someone in the Daley family.”
We get out of the car. For once, Jordan has put his phone away. We trudge through the sparse trees until we’re near the sculpture. It’s amazing. It’s great big curved swaths of polished steel connected in the middle by a stem. I have no idea what it “means” but here in the late afternoon sunlight, it looks majestic. The light clings to every inch of the surface and it could be something out of a science fiction novel, something sent down from the sky. It’s otherworldly.
“You like it?” Davis asks softly.
“I do,” Jordan says, matter-of-factly. I realize then that it’s his first time seeing it, too.
“I love it,” I say.
Davis nods. “Good.”
Later, when we pull up to my job, Davis leaves the car idling and gets out to give me a hug. I can feel Jordan sitting in the car, trying not to turn around and it should make things awkward, but it doesn’t. Davis and I have our own connection. It seems like he’s working hard to respect it. It makes me feel grateful toward him.
As I hug him, I sigh into his neck. I just love feeling the man’s arms around me. It’s a crazy concept because he’s the only man I’ve ever been like this with. I have no precedent, but somehow that makes it even more special to me. I know that my feelings are just for him.
“Why don’t you two come in and get a drink?”
“Ahh,” Davis says, cocking his head, unsure. He backs up and taps on the glass and mimes the international signal for drinking. Jordan shrugs.
Davis looks at me and shrugs.
“Let me go get changed,” I say. “I’ll see you inside.”
By the time I’m behind the bar, they’re walking in. Bryson’s already there and he’s already said something crazy so as usual, I’m laughing with him. Davis and Jordan walk up to the bar. Bryson lets out a low whistle as he looks Davis up and down.
Before I can stop myself, I shoot him an angry look.
Davis chuckles, “What do you have on tap?”
I rattle off a list. He selects an Irish Red. “Never had one before.” After I serve him, I mix Jordan a cocktail.
They sit down and for a minute there, we’re just catching up. Because we really haven’t had a chance to do that. Jordan talks some about NY. He talks about some connections that he has with a gallery who might do a show for him. Davis tells us a little bit about his process. I beg him to tell us whether the sculpture had a meaning. He does a zipped lip motion and refuses to spare a word.
In between talking, I’m working. I can’t help but glance over at them periodically and they’re like father and son, the way they should be. Just chill and enjoying each other’s company. All at once, I’m overcome by just how much I feel for Davis. And for Jordan. How much I want this for them.
I wish there was a way to show this to him. That this isn’t the big mistake he thought it was. That we can have it all.
My feelings for Davis are deepening. I feel powerless to stop it. I’m falling for him. There’s no other explanation. It doesn’t have anything to do with him being a man or me being gay. It’s not about who we are to each other or the fact that there are complications.
And because I care so much for him, I want the best for him…which includes a good relationship with his son. I would never wreck that to try and be with him.
The more I think about it, the more confused I feel.
I do know that I was a fool to ever have left Fairview in the first place. To have run away. It only made things worse.
“Barkeep!” Bryson calls and I head over with a bottle of Glenmorangie to give him a refill. “Who’s the hottie?” he asks as I tip the amber liquid into his glass.
“Nobody. Just my friend and his dad.” I can’t keep the protective tone out of my voice.
“Shit. I would call either one of them daddy,” Bryson says, looking at me closely. I feel my face redden. “I like ‘em young, though,” he adds. “The son’s a cutie. You take the older one?”
I roll my eyes. I don’t protest that I’m straight. Hell, I don’t know anything anymore and I’m trying to be honest about things. All I know is that I care about Davis.
At some point, Jordan steps out to take a call and I go over to talk to Davis.
“We leave tomorrow,” he says.
“What? Really?” I hadn’t realized it was ending so fast. Or I had let myself think about it.
“Yeah. I met with clients today. The gallery showing is tomorrow night. I’m flying out red eye. I have work to do on Monday morning. Jordan’s going to come and stay a week.”
“You’re still contracting.”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re Mr. Big Famous Sculptor, now.”
“But I love building houses and it’s what I do, too.”
It can’t be that. I know he loves contracting but he loves sculpting, too. What is keeping him in Fairview? “How’s Cindy?”
For a second, something cloudy and unreadable registers in his eyes. He swigs his beer.“Cindy? I don’t know. Haven’t really talked to her since, you know, about three years ago.”
I try not to let that news give me hope, but dammit if it doesn’t make my heart soar. So maybe he isn’t anxious to get back to some girl.
“Davis—”
But, there’s something worrying his brow. “Chris, listen. Before Jordan gets back.” He pauses as if he’s searching for the right words. “Today was great. I wanted to let you know that. I wanted to get you two together and see if you could be cool again. The biggest regret I’ve had from that day was that I broke you two up as buddies.”
I realize I’d thought today was more about Davis and me. He’d thought it was some kind of reconciliation between me and Jordan. “Davis, if you think—”
He holds up his hand. “Just wait a second. I just need to say this. Chris, you’re a special guy. You’re smart. You’re driven. You’ve got a good heart. You’re cute. God, you’re really fucking cute.” He pauses. “And, I know about what you’re doing up here with these kids and basketball. I hear that you have a girl. I don’t know if you still do or what.”
“Davis…”
“Just let me finish. You remember what I told you that day? That I wished you and my son could get together? Now, I—I wish it for you and someone else. You and a guy who’s older than you, a guy who can see just how fucking awesome you are.”
I feel confused. “What?”
/> He leans in, his eyes dark and tortuous. “It’s me, Chris. I fucking like you. A lot. It may well be past that.” He glances at the wooden bar top. My heart soars.
He says, “When I’m with you, I feel invincible and like I’m new and just…I feel good. After Jordan’s mom left, I didn’t have anyone, just him. That’s not to downplay my relationship with him but it’s been a little lonely. Then, he was gone. And then that day happened and even though I couldn’t act on it, you gave me perspective. Even this art stuff, it sprang from that one day with you. And I thank you for that. I didn’t mean to reject you or make you feel low or anything like that. That’s what I should have said last night.”
“I know,” I say.
And then he plunges me into despair. “Good. That’s why I know we’re going to go on being friends. Like we talked about. Just good friends. You get me like no one else has ever got me.”
No, Davis. Like you talked about. I just listened.
He looks me in the eye. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. You don’t know how much I fucking wish it…” His hand scoots across the wood where the back of his fingers flutter against mine. “… didn’t have to be this way. But right now, Jordan and you are the two things that matter to me most in the whole world. The only thing I live for. Jordan is my son. And you, you’re amazing and everything I want. But, how could I ever look my friend in the eye and tell him that I’m in love with his son? Your dad is the closest friend I have, besides you, in the world. That’s not a conversation I could ever have with him.”
I stand there in front of him, resisting the urge to just go, to just get out of there and away from this.
“I’m just grateful you and Jordan are talking again. I’m fortunate we were able to contain this somewhat.”
My chest burns. Contain this? My eyes sting and I have to look away as I drive the heels of my hands into the bar. I feel like all the air has been sucked out of me.
He’s right. My dad would be crushed. I’m not arguing that.
The true problem of the situation finally clicks into focus. I thought Davis was a chance I had to take no matter the circumstances.
I know now that he doesn’t feel the same.
21
Chapter 21
The sun’s in my eyes but I still sense the ball as it comes hurtling toward me like a bullet. My hands test the leather, enjoying the grippy feel of it under my fingertips. I send it down toward the asphalt where there is that distinct bink of tight leather against concrete that I love to hear. The ball flows between my legs. My other hand catches it and sends it right back. Then, I’m running and I round Tyson and twist those fucking ankles up.
I know he’s charging behind me as I make for the rim, but I stop short and hook my arms and, hands up to the sky, sending the ball soaring. It pauses high up in the air before it starts its descent.
Nothing but net.
I go for the rebound but he’s there before me and then he has possession. I guard him tight. If he sinks this, it’s game point. My loss. I’m so tight on him that when he moves, flecks of his sweat fly off him and onto my skin. He turns, and I go to turn with him but he’s turning the other way and I reverse, only my foot doesn’t go with me. “Fuck!” I cry out as I go down.
“Dude? You okay?” he asks, running over.
The ball bounces away from us on the court. Bink! Bink! Bink! That’s all I can hear as blood rushes in my ears because I’m in so much pain. He gets to me, pulls me up. Leaning on him, I manage to hop over to one of the courtside benches.
It’s early Saturday. None of the boys will be coming in today but Tyson and I are here to start packing up because the transfer for the Ella DeMaris grant will be coming through next week. It’s all happening so fast. Through one of his contacts, Tyson has already lined up a new facility. One that offers longer term rentals and more space. Plus, there is an option to buy in the contract.
I get my leg up on the bench, trying to ignore the stab of pain in my ankle. Monique comes out of the door carrying an ice pack in her hands.
“I didn’t know you’d come in today,” I say.
“I just came by to grab a few things,” she explains without looking at me. She seems busy though the only thing she carries is a yoga mat under her arm. She points at my ankle with the ice pack. “You know the drill.”
Indeed, I do. I’m not injury prone like Lebron or something but I’ve had my share of pulls and a couple of sprains. I put the pack on my ankle and the cold starts to numb me. Tyson lumbers out with a couple bottles of water.
“How you doing man?”
“It hurts like a bitch. But it already hurts less than a minute ago so, I would say it’s better.”
“No. I know that. But how are you doing?”
“Me? Why?”
“You’ve been out of it all day. What you got? Girl problems? Family problems? Work problems?”
“Things are cool,” I say. Any advice, Tyson, on how to get over your attraction to your friend’s dad?
“I saw that Rebecca changed her relationship status on Facebook,” he says.
“Oh yeah? I didn’t notice.”
“Come on, man. What’s going on, Chris? You and I are buddies, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And buddies talk to each other.” He looks at me directly. “So, did you and your girl call it quits, or not?”
“Yeah, man. That’s over. Been over.” Even before Davis round two.
“That fucking sucks.”
“I know. Tell me about it.”
“Well, if you need someone to take you out and get you drunk, I’m your guy.”
“You know what, Chris? I’m not sad about it. I’m relieved.”
He sits back, his eyebrows up in surprise. “Yeah? Uh, Priscilla?”
“No. No, not at all. Just done. I feel bogus for feeling this way, but I can’t help but feel like I dodged a bullet.”
“Well, I’m glad you did then, shit,” he says, slapping me on the shoulder.
The only sad thing I’m feeling right now is that Davis has doomed me to a life of “friendship”. And not even friends with benefits. I feel that loss more intensely than anything.
“How’s school going?”
“Fine. Just got a little more to go. I’m going to register for the second summer term and try to knock some credits out.”
“Good. Good. That’s really good.”
“What about you? How are things?”
“Things are fine. Look, Chris, you’re not thinking about quitting on me, are you?”
“Quitting? What? Why?”
“This Rebecca business. And I know you miss being at home. You said you had friends in town from home. I just—I know you’re newish to the city and when it gets rough some people take off.”
“No. Not me.”
“I guess I’d understand it but still, it could fuck things up. I think of you as an integral part to this program.”
“I know, dude. I appreciate it.”
When I came here with nothing and nobody, meeting Tyson was one of the most propitious things that could have happened to me. I tell him that. Even if I can’t have Davis Clay, at least I have my new city and my work. And basketball. I’ll always have basketball.
Taking Lead Page 12