The Crush Revisited

by Shawn Lane

And there it was. Of course he didn’t. Brandon had been invisible to Tim, his crush, in high school. Even when Tim had laughed at his friend’s joke about Brandon, he’d really had no clue.

  “Yeah, I know you don’t.” Brandon stood. “I really do need to be going.”

  “Wait. Do you know me?”

  “Yeah, I know you. Everyone knew you, Tim.” Brandon headed to the door. “I had a great time.”

  Tim frowned. “Can’t you stay the night?”

  “That wouldn’t be wise. And I have to get up and come into work pretty early in the morning. I wouldn’t want to disturb you.”

  “Okay. We’ll see each other tomorrow, right?” Tim asked, staring at him intently.

  Brandon smiled a little. “Maybe.”

  Chapter 8

  Tim’s phone pinged, indicating he’d received a text message. He fished it out of his pocket.

  I’m here. Come outside.

  “He’s here,” he said to Lance, who stood beside him in the resort lobby Friday morning. “He wants us to come outside.”

  “What for?”

  Tim shrugged. “No idea.”

  They made their way through the glass doors to the courtyard. But there was no sign of Ashtyn. He was about to text Ashtyn back when a stretch limousine came up the small hill toward the courtyard.

  “A limo?” Lance snorted. “Really?”

  Tim’s lips twitched. “Well, he is something of a celebrity now.”

  “Being a fashionista on a cable reality show is a celebrity?” Lance asked.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  The limo pulled up right next to where they stood. A driver got out and then hurried to the passenger doors on either side of the car to open them. Six women spilled out.

  Tim raised an eyebrow.

  Then a male leg shot out from the limo. It was clad in what appeared to Tim to be shiny pink leather. A flip-flop was on the man’s foot, and the toenails were painted pink, seemingly to match the pink leather.

  “Lord,” Lance muttered.

  And then Ashtyn unfolded to stand before them in full pink glory. The pants were pink. The toenails and fingernails were also pink. His T-shirt was white, at least, although there was a graphic of pursed pink lips on the front. His bleached hair had been streaked with pink. And in his ears, large pink rhinestone hoops.

  “Darlings!” Ashtyn said, enveloping them both in a group hug.

  “You look like someone threw up Pepto all over you,” Lance said.

  Ashtyn’s wide smile didn’t fade one bit. “The color is cotton candy.”

  Tim grinned. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to become more flamboyant than you were in high school.”

  “Clearly you were wrong,” Ashtyn said.

  “An entourage? Really?” Lance eyed the women.

  “Hmm?” Ashtyn looked behind him at the girls who stood next to the limo, waiting for the driver to take out their luggage while bellhops waited nearby. “They aren’t an entourage. Those are some of the ladies from our reunion. I ran into them at the airport and offered them a ride since I had this limo at my disposal.”

  “Thanks, Ashtyn!” one of the girls yelled. The others waved as they all hurried inside after the bellhops. He waved back.

  “Former cheerleaders,” Ashtyn explained.

  Tim recalled that Ashtyn had been on the school’s cheerleading squad ten years ago. The one and only guy.

  “How are you, Ash?”

  “I’m starved and parched,” he said. “Hold on a sec.” He turned to the limo driver and spoke a few words with him and then handed him some cash. Then he turned back to his friends. “Henry’s going to see to my bags.”

  “You couldn’t come in a cab like regular people?” Lance asked, looking amused, as they headed for the resort doors.

  “I’m not a regular person. Besides, the studio is paying for it. They insisted.”

  “The studio. I can’t believe someone gave you a show.”

  “Full of love and charm as usual, I see, Lance,” Ashtyn said.

  Before they could get into arguing the way they did back in high school, Tim said, “Shall we grab lunch? There’s a Mexican restaurant on the other side of the pool we can try.”

  Ashtyn flashed a smile. “As long as wherever we go has alcohol, I’m all for it.”

  * * * *

  “I brought the yearbook with me,” Lance said once they were seated. “We can check out some of the old pictures.”

  Ashtyn wrinkled his nose. “Oh, splendid. I definitely need a margarita for this.”

  “What are you worried about?” Tim asked. “You were always a hottie.”

  Ashtyn shrugged.

  The waiter, dressed in tight black bullfighter knee breeches and a matching black jacket, came by to take their drink orders. They all watched as he walked away.

  “Where’s Thad?” Ashtyn asked Lance.

  “Todd. We broke up.”

  “Oh.” Ashtyn nodded, his expression at once sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. What about you? Not found anyone to settle down with?”

  “Settle down?” He gave a mock shudder. “With all the hunky musclemen to try out? Not likely.”

  Lance opened the yearbook. “Speaking of hunky musclemen, remember Zach Parker? The guy you had a huge crush on, Ash?” He stabbed a finger at a picture at the book.

  Tim leaned across to look at the picture of Zach dressed in the school’s football uniform. Zach had been the quarterback. Ashtyn had been crazy in love with the jock back in school, but he didn’t look down at the yearbook picture.

  “I remember him,” Ashtyn said coolly.

  The waiter arrived with their margaritas, but they told him to come back in a little bit to take their order.

  “He’s here,” Lance said.

  “Here?” Ashtyn took a sip of his strawberry margarita.

  “At the reunion. I saw him.”

  When Ashtyn didn’t react to that, Tim said, “Isn’t he some national sports writer now? Covering the NFL or something.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ashtyn shrugged and reached for a chip to scoop up salsa. “Boring straight guys.”

  Lance gave him a weird look Tim didn’t quite understand, then turned the pages of the yearbook. “Remember that name you mentioned to me yesterday, Tim? Brandon Collins?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Check it out.” He pointed at a picture of a very nerdy-looking teen with thick glasses and acne. Next to the picture was the name Brandon Collins.

  Tim looked at the pictures and names next to the guy, but the kid with glasses was the only Brandon Collins. Which meant, given what Tim had learned last night from Brandon, they were one and the same. Shock coursed through him. It was hard to believe. He grabbed the yearbook from Lance and held it up close. The eyes—at least what he could see in the tiny picture and behind the thick glasses—were identical.

  “Wow, that has to be him,” Tim said. “He told me last night he was in our class. I didn’t…I don’t recognize him at all.”

  Ashtyn leaned over him. “Oh yeah. I remember that guy. He used to follow you around, Tim. I think he liked you.”

  “Really?” Tim shook his head. “Why don’t I remember?”

  “Would you remember a guy like that?” Lance asked. “Tim, I think you’re a great guy, but back then, there’s no way you would have noticed someone like him.”

  Tim winced. Had he really been such an ass? Was he still such an ass? If Brandon hadn’t been so hot now, would Tim have paid him any attention? He found he didn’t like himself very much just then.

  * * * *

  After a long day dealing with headache after headache concerning the reunion, Brandon was headed out to the employee parking lot. Over lunch earlier, his boss had told him he hadn’t realized at the time he’d scheduled the event that it would be Brandon’s reunion. He’d wondered if Brandon was sorry he couldn’t attend many of the events, and Brandon had assured him that he was fine missing it
. His boss would be handling the reunion dinner that night, and Brandon was incredibly happy about that.

  If only he could have missed the whole reunion altogether, Brandon thought as he walked toward his car. He’d seen dozens of familiar faces, and not one of them had recognized him. Brandon hadn’t bothered to remind them who he was, but it made him realize just how isolated and alone he’d really been in those days. Veronica had been his only real friend.

  “Brandon! Brandon, wait!”

  Brandon was tempted to keep walking and pretend he hadn’t heard Tim calling to him. Tim had left him a few voice mails throughout the day. The truth was he didn’t think he could deal with the whole crush thing right now. He was so fucking tired. But he stopped anyway and waited for Tim to catch up.

  Tim looked as great as ever with his dark hair and five o’clock shadow. He reminded Brandon of a rugged cop more than a polished lawyer.

  “Hi, Tim.”

  “I’ve left you a bunch of messages.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I would have called you back when I got home.”

  Tim frowned. “You’re leaving?”

  “Shift’s over. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I thought…well, that we could see each other.”

  “Don’t you have the dinner tonight?”

  “Yes,” Tim said. “But I’d rather spend it with you. I can skip it easy. I’d like to talk to you.”

  Brandon eyed him, wary. “About what?”

  “Can we go somewhere?”

  “Like where?”

  “Your house maybe. Away from prying eyes and ears. Away from all the reunion bullshit.”

  Brandon laughed at that. “Isn’t the reunion bullshit why you’re here?”

  Tim nodded. “Initially, yeah. But I don’t care about it anymore.”

  “What do you care about then?”

  “Seeing you, like I said. I want to spend some time with you, Brandon. Please?”

  He was probably going to regret this. “Okay, we’ll go to my house.”

  Chapter 9

  Brandon opened his front door and let Tim inside. It felt strange to have Tim there. Or any guy really. He’d never brought a guy to his house. Most definitely not when his mother had been alive and not even since her death.

  Hookups were not done at his house, his sanctuary. So why in the hell was he bringing Tim here?

  “This is a nice neighborhood,” Tim said. “My family lived about four blocks from here.”

  “I know.” He winced at the words that surely revealed too much. But back in high school he’d done that stupid thing teens did, and he and Veronica had walked by Tim’s house more than once, expecting to see…well, he didn’t know what. A glimpse of Tim, he guessed.

  “Have you lived in the same house all your life?’

  “Yes.” Brandon moved out of the front hall and into the living room, shrugging out of his suit coat and tossing it on a recliner. “It was just my mom and me.” He gestured to the pink couch. “Have a seat.”

  Tim sat and Brandon sat beside him. “How long has your mom been gone?”

  “Three years,” he admitted. He’d told Tim on the way home his mother had passed away and he lived alone now. “It’s raw though. It sounds clichéd and crazy, but she really was my best friend.”

  “Nah, it doesn’t.”

  “She always had my back. Always. When no one else did.”

  Tim scooted a little closer to him and put his hand on Brandon’s leg. “I want to talk to you about Lincoln Hill High.”

  Brandon stared at the hand on his leg. “You figured out who I was?”

  “I still don’t remember you,” Tim said. “But my friend Lance had the yearbook, and he showed me your picture. That was you in the book, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How come you didn’t tell me when we first met that you graduated the same year as me?”

  “Well, for starters, I’m not at the resort to take part in the reunion,” Brandon explained, his gaze rising to meet Tim’s. “I’m there to work. These reunions are important for the resort. But mostly because high school was a miserable, horrible experience for me. It’s not something I want to think a lot about.”

  Tim squeezed his leg. “You knew from the beginning who I was, though.”

  “Yeah, like I said, everyone knew you, Tim. You were popular.”

  “It was more than that for you, wasn’t it?”

  Great. So now Tim knew about his crush.

  “Maybe. Yes. Okay, I really liked you,” Brandon said. “But you…I was invisible to you.”

  Tim stared at him for several long seconds. “Yeah. You were.”

  He snorted. “At least you aren’t trying to pretend.”

  “I think I owe you more respect than that. It’s true, Brandon. I didn’t know you then or even notice you. I was a kid myself and wasn’t always very smart. I was very much into appearances and popularity then. My friends and I had a club.”

  “Yes, I know that, too. A gay club. Even among gay students I felt like an outcast.”

  “That’s not the way it is now. You’ve changed your life around. You’re successful and kind and a great guy to know.”

  Brandon shook his head. “Life was hell then. I was either ignored or picked on. I’m not sure which was worse. I’d come home crying, but then I wouldn’t want to upset my mom, so I tried to hide it.”

  Tim reached for his hand and held it. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could change things for both of us then.”

  He exhaled. “You’re right, though. I have changed. We both have. And that was ten years ago.”

  “Yes. And I really like the guy I know now.” Tim smiled.

  “You mean you like to fuck the guy you know now.”

  “That’s part of it. I won’t apologize for finding you very attractive. And sweet. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re on my mind a lot, Brandon. That’s why I wanted to spend tonight with you instead of those people at the reunion.”

  Brandon bit his lip. “Why did you decide to come back here? Did you really want to relive your high school days?”

  Tim smiled crookedly. “Well, not really. See, when I got the stuff on the reunion, I was kind of feeling sorry for myself. My best friend in Los Angeles, Micah, was marrying one of the partners from the law firm. I’d introduced them. It was kind of like, check it out, Micah, look at my hot boss I really like. Or it was supposed to be. That was what was in my head. But Micah and Keith were instantly smitten. I’d just been to their wedding when I got the reunion invitation.”

  “Oh. Bummer.”

  Tim laughed. “Major bummer. I thought I was in love with Keith. The reunion seemed a good excuse to get away, maybe hook up. I didn’t know.”

  “You thought you were? You don’t think you’re in love with him anymore?”

  Tim shook his head. “No. It was more of an infatuation, I think. Maybe I’m finally growing up.”

  Brandon couldn’t keep the skepticism from his face. “You think?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. I would hope I would eventually.” He squeezed Brandon’s hand. “Should we go someplace and have dinner?”

  “We could just cook here, if you want.”

  “You cook?”

  Brandon nodded. “Well, sort of. I took culinary classes at the same time as the hotel management courses. I sucked big-time at the sweet stuff like cookies and cakes. That’s why the local bakery knows me and my friend Veronica pretty well. But I can make savory dishes.” He stood up and headed into the kitchen with Tim close on his heels. “I think I have some chicken and some mushrooms. Puff pastry. I could make a chicken-and-mushroom pie.”

  “Really?”

  Brandon laughed and bent down to get chicken out of the fridge’s bottom freezer. “Why do you sound so incredulous?”

  “Because my idea of cooking is a box of macaroni and cheese.”

  He shook his head. “No wonder you’re still single.”

  “Hey!”

>   He smiled, feeling pretty good all of a sudden. “I’m just saying.”

  * * * *

  Tim came up behind Brandon at the sink while he was rinsing dishes and placed his hands on Brandon’s hip bones. He nuzzled Brandon’s neck. “That was delicious.”

  Brandon shivered. “Glad you thought so.”

  “I did. I bet that was way better than the resort banquet food.”

  “They were serving chicken, too. I approved the menu myself.”

  A phone on the kitchen bar sprang to life, startling them both.

  Tim gaped. “Is that an actual landline?”

  “Yes. Some of us still have them.” Brandon picked up the receiver. “Hello? Oh hey, sweetie.”

  Tim frowned. He did not like to hear Brandon calling anyone sweetie. He went to stand next to Brandon, and he placed his hands possessively over Brandon’s ass. Yeah, probably a macho action he should be ashamed of or something.

  “Um. Well.” Brandon had turned a little pink. Tim pulled him closer until Brandon’s ass was pressed against his crotch. Brandon slapped at him, but Tim grinned and ignored him. “Not exactly. I meant to call, but I’ve been busy. No, um, well. I have. Maybe. Look, can I call you later? It’s hard to talk right now.”

  Tim squeezed a cheek.

  “Okay, bye.” Brandon hung up and turned around to face him. He glared.

  “Who is sweetie?”

  “Veronica, Mr. Nosey. She wanted to know what I told the asshole.”

  Tim frowned. “Who would that be?”

  “You. She asked if I had given you a piece of my mind.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, you gave me a piece of—”

  “Don’t say it. Or you’ll be out on yours,” Brandon said.

  “Okay, okay.” Tim sighed. “So you told your friend what an asshole I was. Am. Whatever.”

  Brandon’s smile was unrepentant. “I did. And I’d say the jury is definitely out on whether you still are.”

  “Want to sleep with me?’

  “Is that supposed to prove to me you’re not an asshole?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I just want to and thought I’d throw that out there.”

  “Okay.”

  Tim eyed Brandon warily. “Is that ‘okay, you acknowledge I’ve spoken’ or ‘okay, you’ll sleep with me’?”