by Andy Gallo
Marcus drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “I ran into that annoying chick again last night.”
Staring out the window hoping to see Ed’s truck, Jack almost missed the point. “Annoying… oh, you mean the hot girl from the café? The one you keep tripping so you can catch her.”
Marcus snorted, rolling his eyes. “A) she is not hot and b) I do not keep tripping her. She’s a klutz and never watches where she’s going.”
“Dude, you do dump your bag wherever.” He caught a glimpse of red drive by truck. Ed. A smile worked at the edges of his mouth. He repressed it and focused on Marcus. “I don’t think you can blame her for that.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “Whose side are you on?”
“I didn’t know there were sides.” He swiveled in time to see Ed get out of his truck.
“There aren’t. She’s irritating and hard to get along with.”
“And calling her annoying, irritating, Loch Ness, and worst of all, a ‘chick’ isn’t going to make you any friends. Not with her or any other girl who hears you talk about her like that.”
Marcus flopped to the left. His lips parted in protest—
“Hey, Jack.” Ed’s smooth voice ended their conversation.
Jack lurched up and thanked the stars the tables were bolted into the floor or it would have tipped with his enthusiasm. As it was, only his thighs might be bruised. He chuckled and hurriedly sat down. Standing was too much. And Marcus was giving him one ultra-arched brow. “Glad you made it.”
Sliding over, he made room, and Ed settled in next to him. Close, but not too obvious. Ed subtly snuck his hand over the bench and squeezed Jack’s. Reassuring and cool from being outside.
Jack soaked in the sensation as he made introductions. “Ed, this is my brother, Marcus Reynolds.”
Marcus leaned over the table, extending his right hand. “Nice to meet you, Ed.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks.
“Sorry, hon, didn’t see you walk in. You mind sharing a menu with your friend?”
Ed waved off the menu Jack was sliding his way. “I don’t need to look. I know what I want.”
She took their order, collected their menus, and was gone in less than a minute. When no one spoke, a knot tightened in Jack’s gut.
Ed broke the silence. “Jack tells me you two like motorcycles.” Thank you, Ed!
Marcus’s face split into a wide grin. “Yeah. Been something of a pipe dream for us both. Mom and Dad aren’t about to let us get one before we’re fifty.”
Ed’s lips tipped up in a smile. He leaned forward with a sneaky wink at Jack. “You don’t have to get one to ride one, you know?”
Wednesday lunch, Jack met Ed at the Barnes and Noble café. Finding time to be together was an art, apparently.
Ed all but collapsed into the seat opposite. “Stick a fork in me, I’m done.”
Jack passed Ed the coffee he’d ordered for him. “Drink up. Then we’ll take a romantic walk to the ‘How To’ section. It holds a fond place in my heart.”
Ed’s smirk played peekaboo with the rim of his coffee cup. “Swear to God you stole my breath that day.”
“And a few days since, one hopes.”
“I fear for my health.”
Jack’s turn to hide a grin behind his mocha. “How’s work?”
“Slow. Boring. Pays the bills. How’s classes?”
“Been a bit distracted these last weeks. Can’t think why….”
Ed shifted in his chair, foot bumping casually against Jack’s inner ankle. “If only there were something I could do.”
Jack subtly repositioned himself. “If only there were someplace you could take me. I could stick a… fork in you and check just how done you are.”
Coffee burst out of Ed’s mouth as he simultaneously laughed and choked. He flushed as he grabbed napkins and mopped up the area.
Jack tutted. “That’s twice you’ve made a mess in here.”
“And three times with you.”
They grinned at each other. Ed rubbed his ear. “About last Sunday.”
“You mean meeting Marcus?”
“I never should have hesitated to meet him or any of your friends.”
“He likes you too. Hasn’t stopped talking about how to convince the Reynoldses he’s getting a bike. The bravado will vanish as soon as we get home.”
Ed laughed. “You guys have good chemistry together.”
“Funny, he said the same thing about us.”
Ed sipped more coffee, then cleared his throat. “Are you busy Saturday evening?”
“How long do I have to wait so my answer doesn’t sound ridiculously eager?”
God, Ed’s laugh warmed him to the toes. “I can’t promise there will be any time to fork, though.”
“Then I’m busy. Totally busy.”
Ed nervously played with his cup. “My parents have wondered why I’m out more than usual. I told them I’ve been hanging with a friend.”
Jack managed not to let his smile slip at that distinction. “Uh-huh.”
“Long story short, they’d like you to come over for dinner.” Ed looked up, all kinds of hope and nerves in his eyes. “Still busy?”
Chapter Eleven
On Saturday evening, Ed picked Jack up from the bookstore parking lot. Jack had been anticipating the evening since the moment he’d agreed to come. It wasn’t like he was being introduced as the boyfriend, but still….
“Last guy I dated was spring semester last year.” How on earth had their conversation turned to their exes? “He turned out to be an asshole.”
“Sorry.” Ed didn’t press it, but Jack could tell he wanted to know more.
“It happens. Once I mentioned how Dad and I went to yard sales, and he told me he was sorry I had to go to such a ‘low class’ event. His words, not mine.” Dumb fuck. It wasn’t the money that mattered.
“Nice guy.”
“Yeah, I know. I told him a few things about me and my family that I thought would be private. My mistake. After we broke up, he made sure to tell anyone who would listen some of the more personal things we shared. Enough things that I really haven’t wanted to date anyone else from campus.”
Ed shook his head and swore under his breath. He settled a hand on the back of Jack’s neck and gently squeezed. “Sorry, Jack. The guy sounds like an ass.”
Jack sighed into the touch. “What about you? You mentioned an ex….”
“He was a guy I knew in high school. We banged into each other at the library a couple of years back. When he noticed I was checking him out, he and I got… friendly.”
Jack snickered.
“He wanted our relationship to be in the open. Didn’t care who knew, but I did. Told him I wasn’t ready. One day I get home and a friend of mine is sitting on my steps, on edge, nervous. Evidently he let slip about us to force my hand.”
“That’s pretty shitty of him.”
“Things didn’t work out.” Ed shrugged. “He certainly wasn’t ‘the guy’ worth the risk of coming out.”
Jack’s breath stalled. Hope and frustration and disappointment glugged through his body, settling heavily in his feet.
Stop being ridiculous. You’ve only known him three weeks!
He was meeting Ed’s family, though.
As a “friend.”
Ed pulled his hand back and changed gears. “I guess I understand how you felt betrayed by your ex.”
Jack laughed tightly. “Because of him, I’ve acquired a reputation as a stuck-up snob who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
“How’d that happen?”
“Got a few minutes?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m just driving this hot guy back to my place. I don’t think he’ll mind.”
Jack twisted around in the small cab. “I think he left. You’re stuck with me.”
“Not a problem. You’re more interesting anyway.”
Heat stole over Jack’s face. “You probably know that Harri
son has its share of kids from wealthy families.”
“Just a few.”
“Yeah, well, Kieran’s family is one of them. I overlooked that because he seemed nice.”
“You don’t like your own?”
Jack had entered one of those taboo date topics and tried to pick his words carefully. “Marcus and I are in the weird minority. Mr. Reynolds is a partner in a big law firm, and Mrs. Reynolds is a doctor in a small medical practice. But we’re considered to be at the lower end socially at Harrison. We’re not old money or hedge fund daddy rich.”
“What about the kids who are on scholarship or get financial aid?”
“Assholes like Kieran refer to them as ghetto.”
“Really nice guy.”
“I did say he was an asshole.” If only he’d noticed it sooner. “These kids with rich parents tend to travel in groups and have adopted a pack mentality.”
“What?” Ed laughed. “They surround their prey and take turns going in for the kill?”
“More like there is a pecking order, and those of us not at the top need to feel honored when those above us are generous enough to find us interesting.”
“Let me guess. You didn’t display the appropriate amount of gratitude.”
“Evidently not.” Especially since he had more waiting in his trust fund than any five combined. He was glad he never shared that with Kiernan. “Saying no isn’t considered good form for someone of my social standing. Who knew?”
“Who indeed.”
“And the more I said no to them, the more of a snob I became….” He rolled his hand, then shrugged.
“Snob? You? That’s not what I see.”
What do you see? “Thanks.”
They entered a street with identical white homes, and Ed pulled up outside a well-maintained Cape Cod house. “Home sweet home.”
Jack clumsily pulled himself out of the truck and followed Ed to the front door. He folded his hands, then dropped them to his side, then stuffed them into his pockets.
“Relax,” Ed said, his lip tugging up at the side. “Just be yourself. They think you’re a friend, so you don’t have to worry about an interrogation.”
The reminder slapped the excitement out of him. “Right.” Friends.
“They’ll love you, trust me.”
The scent of a wonderful home-cooked meal welcomed them into the house.
Memories of coming home from practice to the smell of dinner slammed into Jack. He reached out and braced himself on the wall. Fuck. Get it together.
He followed Ed toward the smell.
Don’t lose it, Jack. He repeated it three more times before they traversed the small living room and entered the dining room with the table set for five.
Daisies sat in the little crystal vase Ed had bought last weekend. Jack bit down on a smile and the urge to tuck Ed into him for a slow kiss.
He put another inch between them as Ed called out to his mom. “Dinner smells great.”
Emily Knowles wiped her hands on a red apron and beamed at her son. “You act like I never cook anymore.” She kissed his cheek before locking eyes with Jack. Her smile was all Ed. So were her looks. Close to fifty perhaps, she maintained an active figure. Gray hairs almost outnumbered the brown, but she carried them well. “You must be Jackson.” She held out both hands, grasping his in the process. “Nice to meet you. Welcome.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Knowles, I appreciate you inviting me over for dinner.”
“Please, call me Emily.”
“No, ma’am. If I did that my parents would be appalled by my lack of manners.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Well, Mrs. Knowles is better than ‘ma’am,’ I suppose.”
A laugh came from behind them, and Jack turned toward a teenage girl with a pink streak in her blonde hair. “Who’s this?” she asked her brother, eyes darting to up and down Jack, as if trying to suss him out.
“Jack’s a friend of mine,” Ed said, and Jack choked back a wince.
“Good for you, bro. Was thinking you didn’t have any.”
Ed flushed and grabbed his sister by the back of the neck. It looked a cross between a friendly hug and a pinch. Siblings at their best. “I’m usually too busy for friends, Becks.”
Becky smiled over at Jack. “You must be special then.”
There appeared to be no hidden meaning behind the tossed comment, but Jack felt Ed stiffen from three feet away.
Clearing his throat, Ed backed toward the door. “C’mon, Jack. Dad’s in the den watching basketball.”
Ed led them down a flight of stairs to a finished basement. The bright red carpet looked out of place against the panel-covered walls. Clearly this was a man cave meant for Ed and his dad.
Mr. Knowles was nothing like Jack expected. He was tall, his dark hair thick and graying. Instead of work pants and a T-shirt, he wore khakis and a collared shirt.
“Dad, this is my friend Jack.”
“Eugene Knowles. Gene,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jack. Eddy’s told us quite a bit about you. Good to put a face to the name.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Knowles. Ed always speaks highly of you and his family. I’m glad to meet you too.” Jack swiveled to face the screen. “Who’s winning?”
“Not sure.” Gene laughed. “I don’t follow either team, so I was only half watching. Been switching between the game and Rio Bravo.”
Jack grinned. “The one with John Wayne and Dean Martin?”
Father and son stared at him for a moment, then smiled at each other. “Is there another?” Gene asked.
Jack laughed. “Not that I know of. My granddad and I used to watch westerns together every weekend. He’s a big fan of the ‘the Duke,’ as he called him.”
“Well then, young Mr. Murphy—” Gene put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the couch. “—you come sit here, and the three of us will skip this game and watch a classic.”
Gene left when the movie ended, leaving Jack alone with Ed in the man cave. Ed peered over his shoulder toward the stairs, then put his arm around Jack’s shoulder. Their gazes clashed, and a spark sizzled through him.
Ed’s soft lips brushed over his once. Then he paused, dragging his nose lightly over his cheek. They looked at each other for a tingling second, and then Ed cupped the back of Jack’s neck and dragged his lips over his jaw, to his ear, and down the column of his neck, pausing at the pulse. Could Ed taste his excitement?
Jack pulled back, eyes darting toward the stairs. “Your parents are upstairs. I thought….”
Stealing another kiss, softer this time, Ed sat back. “The top three stairs creak if the cat walks on them. Even if we missed the sound of the door opening, we’d hear them the moment they start to come down. More than enough time to make room for the Holy Spirit.”
Jack snickered, rolling his eyes. “I see you spent time in Catholic school too.”
Ed laughed, nodding.
Looking at the empty staircase for a long moment, Jack turned back with a smirk. “I suppose a little more wouldn’t hurt.”
Three kisses later, Jack realized just how much of a bad idea it was. He adjusted his erection, trying to get it to go down. “They’ll never believe we’re just friends when I’m showing like this.”
Eyes fixed on Jack’s crotch, Ed made similar attempts to hide his problem. “Shit. Why do you have be so….” He made a noise at the back of his throat, a cross between a groan and a laugh. “We’ve got a few minutes before dinner. Let’s go out back.”
Jack followed Ed into a laundry room. The door in the back of the room opened to a short staircase that led to the backyard.
Ed paused long enough to grab a football from a pile of sports equipment.
“What’s that for?” Jack followed Ed outside, resisting the urge to grab the ass inches away.
“You used to be a quarterback; I played tight end.”
Jack smirked. “Tight end, eh?” He lowered his voice. “Do I get to find o
ut for myself, or do I have to take your word?”
“Hey!” Ed shook his head. Jack watched him struggle to keep from laughing. Finally he gave up. “We’re trying to take our minds from such thoughts so we can go in for dinner.”
He tossed the ball to Jack and moved farther into the yard. It was a bit over a hundred feet long; tree limbs hung over both sides, limiting the “passing lane” to maybe a third of the yard.
“Maybe we ought to go out front.” He lobbed the ball softly to Ed.
Ed’s laugh was accompanied by a return of the ball. “I’m not planning to run routes for you. I just thought it was a good way to calm down.”
“Mostly blocked, didn’t you?” Jack dropped back three steps and threw a perfect spiral into Ed’s hands.
“Funny guy.” He rolled his eyes, sending the ball back. The pass lacked the tight spin of Jack’s ball. “We ran the ball a lot on my team, but I had good hands, I’ll have you know.”
He couldn’t wait to find if that were true too. Okay, just throw the ball. He dropped back, halting his throw when the door opened.
Gene walked out, smiling. “You look like you played.”
“Started my last two years in high school.” Jack zipped the ball back a bit harder. Yeah, he was showing off, but he knew he had a good arm.
“Do you play for Harrison?” Ed threw the ball back to his dad, who caught it and handed it to Jack.
“No, sir.” Images of his last two games made his throw slightly wide. Ed moved quickly and managed to catch it. Jack raised both eyebrows. “Nice hands.”
“Yeah, he was good,” Gene said, catching the ball, “but his coach couldn’t draw up a pass play to save his job. Eddy probably could have gotten a scholarship if they ran more plays his way.”
Jack nodded toward Ed. “Go for it.”
Gene’s pass was well wide and over Ed’s head. It hit an overhanging limb and bounced back the way it came. “Maybe I’ll stick to catching for you.”
They both laughed as Ed returned the ball. “Let’s see you thread the needle.”