Cherry Pop (Mercury Rising Book 3)

by Samantha Kane

  “Just do the race with us,” Tripp cajoled. “That’s all you gotta do. Come on, you know you want to. Mud pits, obstacles, ropes, fire pits. I hear they’ve got a barbed wire crawl on the course. Don’t you want to show up those rangers from Fort Bragg?” He could almost feel Ben’s indecision through the phone. “If you don’t want to train with me, just do the race,” Tripp said. “You’re already in shape, right?”

  “Not really,” Ben said. “I haven’t done a race this difficult before, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

  “Well…” Tripp dragged the word out. “Seems to me like we ought to do a little training then, just to be on the safe side. I’ll keep it on the up and up,” he promised, secretly rejoicing inside. “I swear. No touching. Just training, and I won’t try to kiss you.”

  “You’re over that?” Ben said skeptically. “That fast, huh?” Maybe that wasn’t skepticism. Maybe it was hurt.

  “I’m trying,” Tripp said. “What you said to me last night made sense. I mean, after all, I’ve never been attracted to guys before. I guess I was just overwhelmed by you, is all.”

  “By me?” Ben sounded dubious. “I’m as ordinary as vanilla. There’s not much to be overwhelmed by.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it,” Tripp said, getting a little mad at the way Ben always put himself down. “If you were, you wouldn’t be one of the only people in Mercury who can do this race with me.”

  “Good point.” Ben sounded like he was seriously considering it now. “How long will it take?”

  “Training? Or the race?” Tripp asked, the thrill of victory rushing through him.

  “Both.” Ben’s voice had gone firm again, as if he’d made a decision.

  “Well, we should probably run a little every day, maybe through the woods, some fields, that sort of thing. There’s a place in Fayetteville with a small obstacle course, if you want to try that. The race itself should take a few hours.” He held his breath, waiting on Ben’s answer.

  “Okay,” Ben said. “We can go for a run and try the obstacle course. But no funny business. I’ll meet you here in the parking lot after work.”

  “Sure thing,” Tripp said lightly. “See you later.” He hung up before he gave himself away and blew it.

  Spending time with Ben like this was a good thing for him in more ways than one. It would give him a chance to see if these feelings were going to last. This was a big step, and he didn’t want to jump into it. But mostly it meant he’d get to see Ben everyday.

  He did a silent little victory dance in the office.

  Eight

  Ben crossed his ankles and did a forward bend, stretching out his hamstrings and hips. The race was packed with entrants and spectators. Mrs. Lanier had come with them, and Brian and Evan were somewhere too, with John and Conn. After what Carver had told him about hitting on Evan and feeling uncomfortable around him, Ben could understand why they hadn’t asked Evan to do the race, even though he was definitely fit enough. But next year maybe Carver would be over that and Evan could do it with them.

  Well, not with Ben, because he wouldn’t be here, most likely. He felt a little twinge of disappointment and just as quickly dismissed it. They had these races all over the country. He could do it on his own next year somewhere else.

  The atmosphere was insane. They had a nine a.m. start time. Waves of 250 runners had been released every fifteen minutes since eight o’clock. It was loud and chaotic and felt more like a music festival than a race. Next to him Tripp ran lightly in place, warming up. Luke and Carver had gone to use the bathroom before they began.

  Tripp had been as good as his word all week, nothing but business and getting ready for this race. Half the time Carver, Luke, or both were with them. Ben was a little put out by how easily Tripp got over his attraction to him.

  “Hey, Tripp,” someone said, and Ben looked over to see a military-type standing by Tripp. He was practically eye-fucking him. Ben straightened and stared until the guy looked over at him. He winked at Ben and turned back to Tripp. “Giving it another try this year?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

  Tripp took the stranger’s outstretched hand. “Meyers.” He was being friendly, but Ben wasn’t picking up any romantic vibes. As a matter of fact, Tripp seemed oblivious to the other man’s interest. “You know last year I sprained my ankle, and I still finished the damn race,” he said, clearly proud of his accomplishment. “I don’t think you’ll beat me this year.”

  “Who’s your new friend?” Meyers asked, turning to Ben. He gave Ben the once over, and it made Ben’s skin crawl.

  “Ben Heston, David Meyers,” Tripp said. “David’s a major here at Fort Bragg. He’s an instructor. We met a few years ago when we ended up on a double date with these two girls.”

  “An instructor of what?” Ben asked, reaching overhead to stretch his torso as an excuse not to shake his hand.

  “Firearms,” Meyers said with a grin. “I suppose you already know how to shoot?”

  “Not for sport,” Ben said with a stiff smile. “But I do know how.”

  Meyers’ eyes got big and more interested. “Really,” he said. “Not from around here, are you? I can tell by the accent. What are you doing in North Carolina?”

  “He’s project manager at the new Turnstiles center in Mercury,” Tripp said. He and Ben shared a glance, and Ben realized Tripp was catching on to what was happening, and from his look he didn’t like it one bit.

  “So you know Brian Curland?” Meyers asked. “I heard someone saying just today how Mercury was becoming the gay capital of North Carolina thanks to his little project.”

  “Yep,” Ben said, disliking this guy more and more. It was as obvious as could be that he was gay and looking, but at the same time he was trying to divert attention from himself by belittling other gays. “Today Mercury, tomorrow the world.”

  Both Ben and Tripp had stopped warming up, and Tripp had moved over to stand next to Ben.

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” Meyers said with a laugh. “Well, if you need help during the race, just let me know. Tripp here isn’t worth shit at these things. I’ve got a nine-thirty start time.”

  “I find it hard to believe that Tripp isn’t worth shit at anything,” Ben said, making his tone as cold as he could. “In my experience he’s pretty damn good at it all.”

  “Yeah?” Meyers said with a smug little grin. “Well, you haven’t seen me in action.” He started walking backward, staring at Ben. Then he winked and turned and ran off with a laugh.

  “He is disgusting,” Ben said, with an exaggerated shiver. “Ugh.” He started stretching again.

  “He was trying to pick you up, wasn’t he?” Tripp asked. “With me standing right here beside you? Unbelievable.” He sounded so incredulous that Ben had to laugh.

  “My guess is he’s been trying to pick you up for a while,” Ben told him. “When he first walked up, he only had eyes for you.”

  “Me?” Tripp said. He turned to look in the direction Meyers had gone. “I think you might be right. I never realized what was going on. I thought he was just a creepy jerk.”

  “He is a creepy jerk,” Ben said. “But he also wants you.”

  “And you.” They shared a look of horror and then laughed together.

  “By the way, he’s full of shit,” Tripp said. “I’m good at this. I nearly beat his time last year even with a sprained ankle.”

  “Did you really finish?” Ben asked. It was almost time for the race to begin, and they started walking toward the start, where they were supposed to meet Carver and Luke. There was a palpable feeling of excitement in the air, and it was infecting Ben too. He was full of nervous energy and he shook his arms as he walked, trying to loosen up.

  “I did,” Tripp said. “Now I look back and realize that it was kind of foolish to risk further injury. It wasn’t like I was in the lead or anything. Just stupid, stubborn pride.”

  “Brian would say something here about pride being your downfall or s
omething else worthy of a book. All I can say is, I get it. I’d have finished too, or I’d have felt like a loser.” Ben grinned. “We are our worst critics. That’s what my mom always says.”

  “Moms are pretty smart ladies,” Tripp said. “You ever gonna open up and tell me about your family?”

  Ben was shocked into stopping. “Haven’t I?” he asked in surprise. “I thought I had. It isn’t a big secret or anything. My mom’s a Realtor in L.A. and my dad’s a dentist in Irvine.”

  “Divorced too, huh?” Tripp asked. “I know from experience that kind of sucks.”

  “My folks had a pretty congenial divorce,” Ben said. “They’ve always gotten along and shared me without any problems. Even I knew that my parents were a bad idea from the start. My dad’s a really sweet guy, a big pushover, and my mom’s a ball buster, a high-powered real estate agent in a town that eats pushovers. It was never going to work. They stayed together just long enough to have me, and then my dad retreated to Irvine and a new wife and my mom went back to her career. Their marriage was a blip on the radar.”

  “Wow,” Tripp said. “I can’t even imagine that. I mean, my folks have been divorced forever, but I know they still love each other just as much as the day they got married. They’ve both been around every day of my life. Every now and again they fight like cats and dogs, right before they end up in bed together again. I never know when I’m going to find Daddy eating breakfast in the kitchen.”

  “That sounds…turbulent,” Ben said with a frown. “I don’t get why any man, much less one who loves her, would ever leave your mom.”

  “Me either,” Tripp said. “And I’ve never been able to get a good reason for it out of him. He’s been married twice since my mom.” He gave Ben a sheepish look. “Both times my mom was listed as the other woman in the divorce proceedings.”

  Ben laughed. “Good for her for going after what she wants,” he said. “Although it sounds like other women ought to think twice before getting involved with him knowing he’s got a habit of going back to her. That would avoid a lot of heartbreak all around.”

  “I don’t know why she takes him back,” Tripp said, shaking his head. “I really don’t.”

  “Maybe because she loves him,” Ben said. It was a foreign concept to him, that kind of love. In his experience love was selfish and easily damaged beyond repair, or an illusion to begin with, a promise broken as soon as it was made. He’d thought he loved Roland like that. But Roland’s betrayal had killed any love he felt. He’d never take him back.

  By then they were milling around with the rest of the runners, a sea of people wearing Camelbacks, jumping and running in place, yelling encouragement at each other as they lined up. Before Tripp could answer him, Carver and Luke pushed through the crowd to join them.

  “Same old, same old,” Luke yelled as the noise level reached fever pitch. “Two minutes to start.”

  “Remember,” Carver told Ben, grabbing his arm to hold his attention. “If you need help, yell for one of us. And keep an eye and an ear out for us.” He indicated Luke with a twist of his head. “Luke couldn’t make it over the last wall last year, and Tripp and I had to push and pull him over.”

  “Got it,” Ben said. He looked at Tripp, who smiled at him, and his nerves disappeared. He was ready for this.

  “Did it really only take us two and a half hours to do that?” Luke groaned as he lay sprawled in the muddy grass. They were all soaking wet and covered in mud from head to toe. Good thing, since it had been the only thing that kept them from getting burned as they jumped over the fire obstacle at the end of the race. Carver passed out bottles of Gatorade.

  Ben was leaning over, his hands on his knees, panting as he cataloged all his aches and pains. He reached for the bottle Carver held out. “I was not ready for this,” he rasped. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carver asked, laughing weakly as he sat beside Luke and cracked open his bottle of Gatorade. “You were amazing. I had to do penalty burpees on at least three obstacles. Did you do any?”

  “On the monkey net,” Ben said. “I swung my feet up on the net. Tripp didn’t have to do any.” Tripp held his fisted hands up over his head in victory as he sat slumped over in the grass on Ben’s left.

  “You,” Carver said pointing to Luke, “were a huge disappointment, as usual. You know, we do this every year, and every year you look like you’ve never done it before.”

  “Fuck you,” Luke whined. “I finished. I ain’t giving up beer or anything else to get ready for this thing. Why can’t y’all just go fishing with me instead?” Ben thought Luke had done a great job, but Ben could tell Carver liked to give him a hard time. Luke never seemed to take it personally.

  Ben was surprised at how much fun he’d had today with these guys. He hadn’t thought he had much in common with them, but the more time he spent with them, the more he liked them. They’d made him feel like part of something today. This race was a tradition for them, and they’d included Ben. Not just included him, but helped him and trusted him to help them.

  “You all did great,” he said. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Luke said. “Especially since you’re the one that had to push my ass over the wall.” He slowly sat up and moaned as he arched his back. “I won’t be able to cast properly for a week.” He checked his watch and then looked around before he waved at someone. Ben saw a familiar, pretty brunette start to walk their way.

  Tripp saw her too, and asked, “So you actually called one of those girls from the bar the other night?”

  “I did,” Luke said. “And she said yes. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky, but damn, boy. Just damn. I’m gonna ride this wave as long as it lasts. You want me to get you a friend of hers?” His grin was wicked as he made the offer.

  “No thanks,” Tripp said. “Not my thing.” He took a drink and Ben watched his throat work as he swallowed. What did he mean by that? That he didn’t want Luke’s girlfriend’s friend, or that women weren’t his thing anymore? And why should Ben care? He’d said no, and they’d both moved on. Tripp could go back to his old ways and that was fine.

  “You always were picky about girls,” Luke said, shaking his head. “None of them were ever good enough. One of these days you’re gonna meet your match and she ain’t gonna give you the time of day. What’ll you do then?”

  Tripp lowered the bottle and looked at Ben. “Keep trying,” he said, then he looked away, as if the admission embarrassed him. Ben got a tight feeling in his chest, but he wasn’t sure if it was panic or anticipation that caused it.

  Luke rolled onto his knees and used Carver’s shoulder as leverage to stand up, breaking the charged moment. “I got to go. It’s been real,” he said. “If I’m lucky, I’ve got one hell of a massage coming.”

  “Good luck,” Tripp said, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “It’s my charm,” Luke said. “And my big dick.” He looked over at Carver and Ben, and his cheeks got red. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…you know. Hey, don’t be thinking about my dick.”

  “Boy, I seen your dick about a thousand times over the last twenty years,” Carver said in disgust. “It’s not the reason I’m gay.”

  “I’ll try to resist the temptation,” Ben added, sitting down next to Tripp. Luke limped off to meet his new girlfriend with a rude parting gesture.

  “Thanks for helping me through the barbed wire,” Ben said to Tripp, who seemed to be in an odd mood. The truth was Tripp had never left his side the whole race, even though it was clear early on that he could have easily outpaced them all. His presence had reassured Ben and pushed him on when he wanted to give up. He’d never done anything as physically taxing as this race.

  “Sure,” Tripp said. “That’s what friends do, right?” He took a drink of his Gatorade.

  “Sure,” Ben said. “But thanks anyway.”

  “I’ve got to find Melody and my mom,” Carver said, giving Tripp an ins
crutable look. He reached out and shook Tripp’s hand and then Ben’s. “It’s been fun. Maybe we’ll actually train longer than one week next year and try doing this for prizes, huh? Now that we’ve got Ben, that sounds like a possibility.”

  Ben wasn’t sure what to say, and he could feel Tripp staring at him. “If I’m here next year,” he said, feeling awkward. “We’ll see.”

  “Good enough,” Carver said. He waved as he took off down the hill toward the spectator section.

  “Let’s go get our medals and find my mom,” Tripp said, rising gracefully to his feet. It was almost as if he was afraid to be alone with Ben.

  “Okay,” Ben said, because right at that moment he was afraid to be alone with Tripp. There was too much waiting to be said, and Ben didn’t trust himself to stay quiet like he knew he should.

  Nine

  Ben was lying there in bed, staring at the ceiling, one leg bent outside the covers because he was too hot. And his neck and right shoulder hurt. He’d done something to them in the race, pulled a muscle maybe. It was no wonder he couldn’t sleep.

  He should get up and turn up the air conditioning. Maybe he’d break down tomorrow and get a ceiling fan for this room. He kicked the sheets down to the end of the bed and rested his forearm on the pillow above his head. He’d already stripped down to nothing but his loose boxers.

  It must be the race earlier that was making him feel so warm. It had been a hot, sunny day, humid, and he would have fallen victim to the heat if Tripp hadn’t advised him to bring his Camelback. That water had saved him. But he hadn’t stopped sweating since he’d crossed the finish line. Ugh. He glanced at the clock. One a.m. Great. He wasn’t even tired, which was insane considering how hard he’d pushed himself today.

  On the table by the bed his phone buzzed with a text. He leaned over and picked it up.

  Tripp Lanier: Are you awake?

  Ben stared at the words, then slowly set his phone back down. There was a lot of subtext there. Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe Tripp couldn’t sleep either, and he just wanted to rehash the race. After all, they hadn’t talked much after. They’d both gone home to clean up and rest. Maybe Tripp was as restless as he was. Maybe his skin was sensitive and hot and he was ready to jump out of it, just like Ben.