by Kora Knight
Three pairs of eyebrows lifted in unison.
“Kickboxing?” Ned asked, big eyes flashing. “Can we come, too?”
“Feck that,” Jay scowled. “I’m done working out.” He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “And who’s this buddy of yours?”
Shit, here we go. Tad scratched his neck and gave a small shrug. “Just a dude I know that works here.”
“Does dude have a name?” Breck probed, full lips curving.
“Yeah,” Tad chuckled awkwardly. “But you guys don’t know him.”
“Well, we can certainly remedy that!” Ned grinned, marching back the way they’d just come. “I’ve totally been meaning to check out that class. C’mon. Let’s walk him over.”
Breck shrugged and headed after him. “Whatever.”
“Seriously?” Tad groaned, pivoting around. “You guys do not have to walk me over. Geez. What am I, five?”
Jay grabbed his arm and ushered him along. “Oh, shut it, boxer boy. The sooner Ned gets his little peek, the sooner I get my beer.”
Scaling the facility’s huge central stairs, it was all Tad could do not to freeze in his tracks. Straight ahead, just outside a huge, glass-fronted training room, was Scott. Arms crossed with one shoulder propped against the wall, he was talking with another guy as people filed into his class. A big dude. Easily as tall as Breck.
Tad’s stomach clenched. Shit, shit, shit. He couldn’t do this. Act normal around Scott with his friends looking on. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to introduce them. Knowing Ned, he’d probably try to mooch a free session. And then Jay would start crying about his beer. Yeah, tonight was definitely not the best of nights. Next time, though. Definitely, without a doubt, next time.
His feet ground to a stop. “Alright, guys. You’ve delivered me safe and sound. I’ve got my blankie and juice box so I should be good to go.”
“Dude. Don’t be such an asshat,” Ned chastised. “Introduce us to your friend.” He wagged his brows. “Then ask if I can sit in, too.”
Tad rolled his eyes. “Don’t you all have places to be? Beers to drink? Livers to damage?”
“Coach makes us take herbal supplements,” Breck smirked. “So, my liver’s good.”
Jay laughed. “Herbal supplements, my ass.”
Breck narrowed his eyes at surfer boy. “I told you, Goldie Locks. I don’t take steroids.”’
“Right,” Jay chortled. “And my longboard’s made of solid gold.”
“Yo, fucktards,” Ned cut in. “Quit your yappin’ and let’s go.” He scanned the stretch of classrooms. “Alright, Mitchel. Which one is yours?”
Muscles tense, lips pursed, Tad reluctantly tilted his head. “That one.”
Jay’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. Those dudes out front are ripped. One of them your boy?”
Tad winced at his choice of words. “Uh… yeah,” he nodded, scratching his neck. “Guy in the shorts. I don’t know the other one.”
“Ah, fuck,” Breck muttered. “I do.” Tad and the others glanced his way. Features gone tight, he shook his head. “Dude’s a major dick.”
“Awesome,” Ned snickered, leading the way. “Can’t wait to meet him.”
Tad groaned, Breck growled, and Jay flat-out laughed, sauntering after the guy.
Good times.
Insides anxious, Tad started walking, too, with Mr. Frowny Face bringing up the rear. Looked like Tad wasn’t the only one dreading this imminent little pow-wow.
Halfway over, Scott looked their way. Instantly, his gaze met Tad’s. His smile spread wide, reaching his eyes, but then ebbed when he noticed Tad’s friends. Tad’s heart pounded faster. They’d never been around each other in public like this before. He had absolutely no idea what the guy would do. God, he could actually feel his nerves fraying.
“Hey, man,” he smiled, coming to a stop. “Long time no see.”
“Tad,” Scott grinned. “You made it.” Reaching out, the two clasped palms.
Tad gave a what’s up nod to Scott’s buddy, then gestured to his friends. “We just finished working out… and they were curious about your class, so…” Scott smiled again, and fuck if his handsome face didn’t derail Tad’s thoughts. Clearing his throat, he scrambled back on track. “Uh, so, anyway…. Guys, this is Scott. Kick boxer extraordinaire. And Scott, this is Ned and Jay and—”
“Breck.”
Everyone paused to look at Scott’s friend. The guy who’d taken it upon himself to finish introductions. The same guy who was currently staring Breck down with one seriously wry looking smirk.
Tad quirked a brow, eyeing the guy. He kind of reminded him of a gangster. But not just because of that lawless grin. His dark little ponytail and that jawline of trimmed stubble definitely contributed to the vibe.
“Kai,” Breck muttered, looking less than pleased.
Scott glanced between the two. “Get out. You guys know each other?”
Kai nodded, his black, almond-shaped eyes still locked on Breck. “Yeah. Used to be a student of mine over at the dojo.” Grinning devilishly, he crossed his arms. “Whatever happened to you, anyway? One day out of nowhere you just… stopped coming.”
Breck stiffened, full lips pursing as he gave a tight shrug. “Needed to focus more time on school so I didn’t get kicked out of Division.”
Tad glanced at his friend, confused. Breck had always been an honor roll student. Never had problems acing classes. So, what the fuck was he talking about? He remembered when Breck started Jujitsu. He’d turned into an epic bitch then finally quit the class. Never said why he quit, but now Tad couldn’t help wondering.
A small smile tugged at Kai’s lips. “Ah,” he murmured. “That’s too bad.”
Tad could feel the tension rolling off Breck’s frame. Outstanding. Like this moment needed more awkward.
Scott regarded the two, then shook his head and glanced into the classroom. “Okay, guys. I gotta head in now. Ned, Jay, Breck; it was good to meet you. Feel free to hang out and watch.” He turned and clasped palms with his buddy next. “Thanks for dropping by. Get back to me about my proposition, cool?”
Kai’s lips twitched. “Will do.”
Tad stilled, fighting back a frown. Scott had propositioned the guy? He didn’t like the sound of that, considering the kinds Tad knew him to make. A sickly kind of chill curled in his gut as he regarded the two men closer. Both had an odd little gleam in their eyes. His stomach clenched unhappily. Whatever the topic of their discussion had been, it definitely wasn’t innocent.
Do not fucking assume, he berated himself. It was probably nothing. Just his paranoid imagination.
Kai cast Breck one last look. “Good seeing you again.” Blatantly, he bumped him as he made his way past. But Breck didn’t look fazed at all. Tad shot him a surprised look. Breck didn’t usually let that kind of shit fly. But all the guy did was give an irritable shrug.
“C’mon, Tad,” Scott spoke up, gesturing over his shoulder. “Time to see what you’re made of.”
Tad forced a smile and turned to salute his friends. But Ned and Jay were too busy eyeing Breck to notice. Fine by Tad. He was actually kind of grateful their attention was elsewhere, and not on him and Scott.
Once inside the brightly lit space, Scott snagged some boxing gloves from the bin by the door and tossed a pair to Tad. Kicking off his shoes, Tad caught the things, then found a spot to stand in back. As Scott made his way to the front of the room, Tad glanced over his shoulder. Outside in the foyer, behind all that glass, his three nosey friends remained. God, he hoped they took a hike soon. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to enjoy Scott’s class. Constantly worried they’d catch him staring. Or swapping covert glances with the teacher.
Unfortunately, the latter never wound up the case. For the next forty-five minutes, Scott barely even acknowledged his presence. Not through warm-ups or demonstrations or countless effing drills. Which was fine. Tad didn’t want to be a distraction. Nor did he want his buddies to think he was getting special treatmen
t.
He risked another glance into the hall. Oh, thank fuck. The Three Musketools were gone. He smiled. Now he could ogle freely. Because, damn, Scott was mouthwatering in his element like this. All sleek and agile as he sparred with his partner now that they’d split into pairs.
Even blatantly holding back, he still moved like a demon. Side-stepping, jabbing, landing kick after kick. The sight had Tad’s blood pumping hard. God, how he wished Scott was facing-off with him. That other guy was one lucky mother, despite all the hits he was taking. It was probably a good thing, though, that Tad wasn’t in his shoes. Because had he been, all his energy would no doubt be going toward restraining himself instead of practicing.
Soon Scott started to make his rounds, checking on each student’s form. Tad tried not to stare as he came closer. Even shifted around to keep Scott perpetually at his back.
“Get those hands higher, Tad.”
Tad glanced over his shoulder, but Scott was already walking away. And then an enthusiastic boxing glove connected with his gut. Tad grunted, doubling over. “Dude,” he wheezed, glaring at his partner. “I was looking the other way.”
The guy just shrugged, looking less than contrite, then connected his shin with Tad’s thigh. Tad stumbled to the side. Goddamn it. When did this fucking class end again? He was beyond done with Mr. Overzealous. He wanted a turn with Scott.
Fortunately, things wrapped up a few minutes later. As the room cleared out, Tad stayed behind to help Scott put shit away. In no time, all the free-standing punching bags were back up against the wall. Well, except for one.
“Tear it up,” Scott smiled, gesturing to the thing. Tad shrugged and re-donned his gloves, then threw out a couple jabs. “Not bad,” Scott nodded, holding the bag steady. “Now gimme some combinations.”
Tad rubbed his chin. “Alright.” Mixing it up, he kept the hits coming, even as the bulk of his attention stayed on Scott. There were a few things he wanted to ask the guy. “So, that dude Kai you were talking to.” Jab, jab, cross. Left, left, right. “He a good friend of yours?” Man, he hoped that didn’t sound nosey.
Scott smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Tad eyed him. Jab, cross, hook. Left, right, left.
Scott chuckled, eyeing him right back. “He and I share some common interests.”
Tad struggled not to frown. They shared some common interests? What the fuck kind of explanation was that? He shifted his weight and stared at the bag. “Which I’m guessing has to do with that proposition you made him?” So he was shamelessly digging for info. Screw it. His curiosity was killing him. His simple, unassuming curiosity.
“Mmhmm. An idea I’ve been playing with for a couple weeks. Just hope Max will be on board with it, too.”
Tad’s heart tripped and stumbled, smacking into his ribs. “All three of you?” he asked, gloves stilling against the bag. What would Scott need all three of them for? What could they possibly— His brain started to reel. Maybe he didn’t want to know. That cold funk in his gut swelled to twice its size.
Scott regarded him for a second, a strange amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yeah,” he smiled. “All three of us.”
Tad pursed his lips. Evasive much? Why wouldn’t the guy just elaborate? Glaring at the punching bag, he threw an irritable jab. “What, is your little endeavor classified or some shit?”
Scott studied him again, then barked out a laugh, as if finally understanding Tad’s problem. “No. It’s just not a done deal yet. And I really don’t wanna jinx it.”
“Ah,” Tad muttered.
Guess that was that. Whatever. If Scott didn’t want to tell him his plans, then that was his prerogative.
“Babe,” Scott murmured.
But Tad kept his eyes on the bag. Yeah, he was acting like a fucking baby, but screw it. He had a bad feeling and couldn’t help it. In fact, it’d probably be best if he just changed the subject.
Shaking it off, he landed another punch. “So, you ever find out what Max’s problem was? Does the dude still hate my guts?”
Scott shook his head. “He doesn’t hate you.”
“You sure about that?” Tad grunted, unloading another round.
Scott’s small smile faded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Tad eyed him skeptically. “Don’t look very sure.”
Scott exhaled. “The thing with Max… He’s always had a kind of aversion to guys he thinks are... closets.”
Tad’s stomach pitched then dropped to the floor. So, that’s what got Red so fucking bent. He thought Tad was a closet case, too. Son of a bitch. That made four guys now. That Tad knew of. Jesus. What if there were more? And… what if they were right? Max hadn’t appeared to have any doubts.
Utterly disturbed, he kept his eyes diverted. “Oh.”
Scott sighed. “Listen. Don’t take it personally. He’s not a bad guy. He just… had a bad go with one a long time ago and… shit ended really bad.” Tad glanced up to find him rubbing his brow. “Honestly, I think it scarred him.”
Whoa. Shit must’ve gone epically bad to mess up a guy like Max. The dude was tough as nails. “Damn,” Tad muttered. “What happened?”
Scott shook his head. “Not mine to tell. But it wasn’t good.”
Tad nodded, respecting Scott’s efforts to protect his friend’s privacy. Looking at the punching bag, he tried to organize his thoughts. “So, Max thinks I’m a… closet case.” God, such a bitter taste on his tongue.
Scott inhaled. Then exhaled. Then gave a small nod. “Yeah… He does.”
Tad’s gaze dropped down. “And what do you think?”
For way too long, Scott didn’t respond. Tad’s heart pounded miserably. Fuuuck. Make that five guys who thought him a pussy. And wasn’t that ironically appropriate, since he suddenly had the urge to bolt.
“I think you’re in the process of figuring shit out.”
Surprised, he stilled, eyes lifting to lock with Scott’s. The guy couldn’t have given a more gracious answer. But did he mean it? Tad searched his face, needing confirmation. Scott’s rock steady gaze stared right back. Tad rubbed at his jaw. “So, you don’t think I’m a…”
Scott shook his head. “The way I see it, a closet is someone who knows they’re gay but chooses not to go public. And who knows, maybe their reasons are legit.” He shrugged. “Not my place to judge. But whatever the case, it’s a deliberate choice. With you…” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’ve got it all figured out yet.”
Tad looked away, chewing his lip. Scott’s take felt pretty damn accurate. And oddly enough… reassuring. Because Tad wasn’t a pussy. And didn’t fucking hide.
“Well?” Scott murmured a few seconds later. “Am I right?”
Tad fought the urge to grimace. Scott’s question was legitimate. And one he had every right to ask. Thing was, he’d never asked it before. At least not so directly. And now that he had, answering it truthfully felt daunting as hell. Because that meant admitting that all Tad’s convoluted feelings still had his brain in a jam. And fessing up to stuff like that was painfully embarrassing.
He shifted uncomfortably, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. I guess you are. ”
Scott stayed quiet then nodded, too. “Figured as much, the way you were acting around your friends.”
His tone was soft. Non-judgmental. Which made Tad feel pathetic and grateful all at once. Outside, before class, it couldn’t have been more obvious that Tad hadn’t told his friends. About anything. A lot of people would’ve taken that personally, but Scott had let it ride.
And now, as he stood there looking at Tad, if he was disappointed he wasn’t letting it show. The most powerful urge to hug the guy doused Tad’s soul. To thank him for being so awesome. So patient when others would’ve hung it up.
He swallowed as Scott watched him, the dude’s expression carefully guarded. But not in the sense that he was distancing himself, or trying to shut Tad out. More like he was trying exceptionally hard not to make Tad fee
l bad. But what in the hell was going on in his head that he’d feel the need to keep shit in check?
Scott cleared his throat, motioning Tad’s focus back to the bag. “Anyway… So, what’d you think of the class?”
Tad exhaled, grateful for the subject change. “It was cool,” he smiled, delivering two jabs, then following them up with a cross. “Even despite the fact that I suck.”
Scott chuckled. “You were sparring with seasoned regulars. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“Would’ve rather been sparring with you.”
“I bet you would’ve,” he grinned. Scanning the emptying foyer, he gave a carefree shrug. “Well, come on then. God knows you’ve been wanting to. And I did promise you earlier you could.”
Tad’s brows shot high. “Really?”
Scott smirked and slid on a pair of gloves. “Really. Gotta teach you a lesson in being careful what you wish for.”
“Bring it,” Tad laughed, shoving the boxing bag over with the others.
Scott’s brown eyes flashed. “Ah, babe. That’s sweet. But you couldn’t handle what I bring.”
“You planning on going easy on me?”
“Always do, lover boy.”
Tad balked at both sentiments. Always? Lover boy? Lips pursed, cheeks heating, he assumed ready stance then responded with an aggressive little combo.
Scott easily blocked his efforts. “Nice. Again.”
Tad narrowed his eyes, but gave the dude what he wanted. This time, however, Scott got involved, too, sidestepping Tad’s power punch to land a hook right upside his head. Despite its lack of vigor, Tad still went stumbling.
Scott chuckled. “Keep your shoulder up. Gotta protect that big head.”
Tad cursed out a laugh and held up his glove. “I’m flipping you off right now, just so you know.”
Scott grinned. “Try to land a kick. And remember, bottom of your shin’s the sweet spot.”
Tad’s dick twitched. Any time ‘sweet spot’ came out of Scott’s mouth, his mind went straight to the gutter. Specifically, to memories of the guy teasing his. With his fingers. And then his dick. Tad’s cock bucked harder. Shit, he did not need to be thinking about that now. For fuck’s sake, he was trying to friggin’ spar. Sifting through the techniques Scott had demonstrated earlier, Tad picked one and gave it a go.