by Shawn Lane
The Crush Revisited
By Shawn Lane
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 Shawn Lane
ISBN 9781634867054
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
NOTE: This book was previously published by Loose Id.
* * * *
The Crush Revisited
By Shawn Lane
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 1
Micah Graves and Keith Peterson’s reception was still going strong hours after their commitment ceremony. Tim had acted as Micah’s best man. They all wore charcoal-gray tuxes and pink ties. The happy couple had been practically glowing.
They’d hired a band, a loud one at that, and for a while Tim watched couples dance in the middle of the large floor, until he’d had enough of watching laughing, smiling pairs.
Tim had been asked to dance by two women and a guy, but he’d declined all three. Not because he was being particularly mopey, but rather because he had two left feet.
He took a glass of champagne off a nearby tray and headed through the French doors that led to the gardens of the community center where the reception was being held.
“I can get through this,” he told himself, leaning on a wrought-iron railing that overlooked a duck pond.
It wasn’t as though he’d lost something. He’d never had Keith. Hadn’t even gone on a single date with him. They worked together at the same law firm, that was all. Anything to do with Keith had all been in Tim’s head. So really, he needed to get a grip.
Only easier said than done. Keith was handsome, successful, and a philanthropist. He’d been perfect for Tim, or so Tim had thought. But Keith hadn’t ever thought of Tim as anything but a friend and colleague. And when Keith met Micah…well, that was like magic. For them.
He smelled Keith’s cologne just before Keith clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You look like you’re a million miles away, Olfander.”
Tim turned to give him the practiced smile. The one he’d worked on for days and was pretty sure he’d perfected. Raising his glass of champagne in a sort of salute, he said, “Just wondering if this kind of thing will ever happen for me.”
“It will.”
He sounded so sure that Tim had to ask him, “You have a crystal ball or something?”
Keith laughed. “No. I just know what a great guy you are. You’ll meet Mr. Right just like I did.”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t think I would ever meet the one either. But then you introduced me to Micah.” Keith looked pretty lovesick. “I couldn’t be happier.”
This time the smile Tim offered was easy. He was happy for them. Micah had been his best friend ever since Tim moved to Los Angeles, and he definitely deserved having a great guy. “I’m glad for both of you. Micah really loves you.”
Keith’s smile got wider, if that was possible. “What are you really doing out here? There’s a party inside. I happen to know there’s a member of the band who has a big crush on you.”
“Which one?”
“The little piano player. I’m surprised you didn’t see him ogling you.”
Tim laughed. “Hmm. I can’t believe I missed being ogled myself.”
Keith jerked his head in the direction of the doors leading inside. “Come on. Let’s go check him out.”
* * * *
Tim had just poured himself a glass of chardonnay the next evening when a tinny beep alerted him to having received a text on his phone. He picked up his cell and saw that it was from Micah.
Having the best time!
He took a sip of the wine and then typed back.
Great.
Then he shut off his phone. Probably stupid, but he didn’t think he could take hearing more about their honeymoon. He knew he had to get over it, of course. And hooking up with the little piano player after the reception had been a start.
Tim had gone home with him and spent a couple of hours fucking him senseless. Or maybe it was Tim who was senseless. Probably both.
The piano player had fallen asleep or passed out, Tim didn’t know for sure, so he’d used that as his chance to leave. The musician had been a cutie and had a great ass, but really Tim didn’t see it being anything more than a one-night stand, so he’d made his escape before things could get too awkward.
He powered on his laptop and sat on the couch with his legs tucked under him to go through his e-mail. About the tenth message down, he noticed one marked with the subject line Lincoln Hill High School Reunion Committee. Tim clicked on it and read.
Greetings, fellow former students. Hard to believe, but it’s been ten years since the class of 2003 graduated from Lincoln Hill High School. We’re planning a reunion at the Lincoln Hill River Resort on Saturday, May 25, 2013. Hope you can join us for Memorial weekend. Lincoln Hill alumni get special rates.
It went on with further details about reserving a room at the resort and reunion activities for the long weekend, along with prices and registrations forms. It included links to the resort’s Web site and an indication that they would also be mailing information.
Well, it had certainly been a long time since he’d thought of his days in high school. He’d moved out of Lincoln Hill not long after school and had never looked back. Back in those days Tim had hung out with his two best friends, Lance Lewis and Ashtyn Raleigh, who were also gay. They’d thought of themselves as the Lincoln Hill Gay Club. Hell, they’d even formed a Gay-Straight Alliance with monthly meetings. Tim laughed out loud. Yeah, they’d pretty much been dorks.
He clicked the link in the message that listed alumni who had already registered and searched for his friends’ names. Lance and Ashtyn were both on the list as attending. He was sort of surprised neither of them had e-mailed him to mention the reunion. They’d kept in touch via e-mail for the last several years, updating each other on their lives. He hadn’t really planned on revisiting high school, but it would be nice to see the guys in person after all this time, and maybe this reunion was exactly what he needed to make something happen in his life.
Chapter 2
“Wake up. Brandon, wake up.”
“Just a minute more, Ma,” Brandon mumbled, turning his face into his sof
t, squishy pillow. “I won’t be late for school.”
She chuckled. “You’ve got that right.” She shook him roughly.
Brandon opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He blinked, trying to get rid of the blurriness, but it didn’t work. He turned his head and reached for his glasses from the bedside table and put them on.
No mother stood over him. Of course not. She’d been gone for three years. There had to be some weird psychological reason he still dreamed of his dead mother instead of some hot guy or something, but Brandon didn’t know what it was.
He got out of bed and pulled on his robe against the chill in the room. It probably wasn’t that cold by most people’s standards, but he’d lived in Northern California all his life and didn’t do well with cold. The thought of snow made him shudder even if he got to wear cute little ski outfits. Not worth the misery.
Padding out to the kitchen in his slippers to make coffee, Brandon flipped on every light switch. He hated living by himself but couldn’t think what he was supposed to do to change that.
The house in Lincoln Hill was the one he’d grown up in, the one his mom had spent years trying to make a home for the two of them. She’d struggled as a single mother. Brandon had never known his father. According to his mom, the guy who had impregnated her hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with either of them. His loss, they both thought.
His mom had paid for their home with her catering business. It was probably too big for just Brandon, and he’d considered renting it out to someone else and moving to an apartment or something. But in the end, he liked where he was. He still felt his mom’s presence, still liked the traces of her in the home.
He poured hazelnut creamer in his coffee and then took the mug to the living room, where he’d left yesterday’s mail and some paperwork he’d received from work. He sat on the pink couch, which he and his mother had picked out together just months before her death, and sorted through the mail. Brandon paused at the one from the Lincoln Hill High School Reunion Committee. All in caps, he didn’t fail to notice.
As if all the bullies he’d known in his life were suddenly in the living room with him, taunting him, Brandon’s stomach clenched and bile rose to his throat. His hand shook holding the envelope. Lincoln Hill High had been hell for him ten years ago. He’d been dorky and skinny with glasses, braces, and acne. The only thing that had saved him from being totally ostracized and ridiculed was that no one had known he was also gay.
Tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth, he tore open the envelope and removed a fancy color brochure from the Lincoln Hill River Resort.
“Shit,” he muttered before reaching for the letter that accompanied the brochure.
His high school reunion was to be held at the resort—his place of work—Memorial Day weekend.
Besides the letter and brochure, there was a price list and another list of activities being arranged by the resort for the alumni.
He tossed it next to him on the couch and then reached for the documents his boss had given to him yesterday. Brandon hadn’t had time to read them, but he knew they concerned a big event that had been booked.
“Fuck me,” Brandon said. Sure enough, the event booked at the resort was the Lincoln Hill High School Reunion. He’d be working to ensure his former classmates had a great time.
* * * *
Brandon had just gotten out of the shower when he heard the mad ringing of his doorbell. Whoever stood on his doorstep was pressing the button over and over again. He shrugged into the blue terry cloth robe he used to dry off, and headed for the front door. He was fairly certain he knew who was abusing his doorbell.
Just as he popped his glasses into place, he opened the door.
“Veronica,” he said.
Veronica Stetson—she’d been Veronica Rowley before—had been his best friend through much of his school years. They’d both been miserable geeks most of those years, clinging desperately to each other. They’d formed a clique of two.
She’d grown out of her awkward stage and now was a pretty little blonde with a husband and two little kids. Still his best friend though.
“Did you see it?” she demanded immediately, emphasizing what she meant by sticking the envelope from the reunion right in his face.
“Yes, I saw it,” Brandon said. He held the door open wide for her to step inside, then closed it behind her. “You’re not thinking of going, are you?”
“Me? Hell, no. Jimmy would never want to go. He didn’t even go to his own, let alone mine.” Jimmy was her husband. Brandon quite liked him. “Besides, those people were horrible. I don’t want to see any of those bitches and bastards.”
Brandon followed her as she headed to his kitchen. She helped herself to a cup out of the cabinet and then poured herself some coffee.
“But it’s at your resort.”
“It’s not my resort. I’m just the assistant manager,” Brandon said. He took out the flavored creamer and pushed it into her hands. “But yeah, I saw that, too. I’m working that whole weekend. I already got the schedule for it.”
“So far in advance?”
“A lot of planning goes into those events.” Brandon sighed. “I’m just hoping no one will recognize me.”
Veronica, who wore a red velvet jogging suit, though Brandon knew she never went jogging, took a sip of her creamer with a little coffee. “Did you see the list of those who are attending?”
He shrugged. “Was it attached?”
“No. There’s a link you go to on their Web site, and they have the whole list. I’ll show you.”
Brandon glanced down at his robe. “Can I change first?”
“No. This is your day off. Why the rush? Besides, I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing to see.” She tugged at the lapels of his robe.
He swatted her away. “Hey, do you mind?”
She rolled her eyes and headed out of the kitchen to the spare room, where he’d set up his computer. By the time he entered the room, she’d already powered up his desktop PC.
“I’m glad you aren’t pushy or anything,” Brandon said sarcastically.
She ignored that and instead said, “You look cute with your glasses on. You should wear them more often.”
He’d abandoned using his glasses outside of his house years ago in favor of contacts. Contacts, straight teeth, clear skin, and an expensive salon haircut and dye job had gone a long way to making Brandon happy and presentable to the world. To him, anyway. Veronica claimed he had always been a cutie.
Brandon pushed her aside to sit in his own computer chair. After signing in to his e-mail, he asked for the link.
“Click right there,” she said, pointing to the link that read List of Attendees So Far in neon red.
He scowled, muttered something about being able to read, and clicked the link. Folding his arms across his chest, Brandon asked, “And just what am I supposed to see?”
She smirked. “Check out the names under O.”
Indulging her, Brandon looked. And then he saw it.
Timothy Olfander.
His stomach flopped and then flipped. He covered his eyes, then uncovered them and looked again. It hadn’t changed.
“Ah, shit.”
Veronica nodded. “Can you believe it? Your high school crush. The man of your dreams. The one that got away. The—”
“Shut up, will you? I know who he is. And he didn’t get away, for fuck’s sake. He never even knew I existed except in my dreams while I jerked off.”
“TMI.” She wrinkled her nose. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it? What am I supposed to do?” Brandon shook his head. “He won’t know who I am. I could walk up to him and say my name and he still wouldn’t know. Probably wouldn’t know me if I looked exactly like I did ten years ago.”
“But you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.” Brandon had spent all of high school crushing on Tim Olfander. Followed him around even. At a safe distance. Tim had been totally
out of his league. Once he’d even overheard Tim laughing at the notion of taking him to the prom when one of his friends had made a big joke out of suggesting it. Still, he’d secretly written “Brandon + Tim” in a dozen notebooks. Watched enviously as Tim and his cohorts formed their club. A gay club. For a brief time—five minutes or so—Brandon had thought about joining the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance. But he’d decided against it, unwilling to come out and make himself a target. More of a target.
Brandon hadn’t been out then. How could he? The school tormentors had enough reason to pick on him without adding that to it. But Tim seemed to have it made. No one picked on him. He was gorgeous and popular, and Brandon had been in love.
“Maybe I can call in sick for that weekend,” he said with a heavy sigh.
Chapter 3
“You better have breakfast with you,” Brandon said when he opened the door to Veronica two weeks before the reunion.
She held up a paper bag. “Chocolate-filled croissants.”
He snagged it. “Okay. And the stuff to do my highlights?”
Veronica rolled her eyes and held up her beauty supply pouch.
Brandon nodded. “You can come in.” He held the door wide for her. She’d gone to beauty school the year before last, and though mostly he went to the salon at the resort, sometimes Veronica did touch-ups for him.
Like now. The resort salon was booked up all the way through the reunion, and he didn’t want to wait for his hair. Sure, he’d be working the reunion and not be a guest, but he still wanted to look great.
He followed her out to his kitchen, where she took two plates and two mugs out of his cabinet. Brandon opened the bag and inhaled the scent of freshly baked croissants and chocolate. “I love you. I honestly love you.”
She laughed. “You’re so easy.”
“Well, duh.” Brandon took the creamer out of the fridge and set it next to the coffeemaker.
“I do have some bad news though.” She filled his coffee mug from the carafe.
“Bad news? You forgot the stuff to bleach my teeth?”