I laughed aloud, but did not provide an answer to his question.
“Well?” he asked, refusing to let the matter go. “When are you coming back, Nic?”
“I don’t have an answer for that right now,” I said, gesturing toward the bathroom where Clint was still washing his face.
“What does Clint have to do with it?” Greg asked, pushing the matter further than I thought he would. “You’re a sexually liberated person, Nic. You don’t need to stop dancing just because you’re dating someone.”
“Don’t call me Nic!” I shot back, squinting my eyes so that he knew I meant business. “And I’ll do whatever makes me happy, Greg. Right now, this makes me happy.”
“Are you going to build a white picket fence around the block?” Greg asked, mocking the fact that I was staying with Clint.
“I’m not living here permanently,” I replied. “I’ll just be here until they finish working on my neighbor’s apartment; I can’t stand all that construction and repair noise.”
“When will they finish it?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied, which wasn’t entirely true.
The landlord had called me just one week before to tell me that they’d be finished in exactly two weeks. He had, of course, allowed me to skip paying rent for the month that I wouldn’t be living there, which was great since I hadn’t been pulling in an income.
“I’m thinking about other options,” I said, not knowing whether I should allow Greg in on my plans.
“Like what?” he asked curiously, sitting on the couch and waiting for me to answer.
“Well,” I replied, walking into the kitchen to find a bottle opener, “you know I’m obsessed with fitness. I’m thinking about becoming a personal trainer.”
“And taking a huge pay cut from dancing?” he asked sarcastically. “Why would you do that?”
“Stop it,” I replied. “I invited you over for dinner, not for judgements.”
“Speaking of dinner,” Greg said, pushing himself up from the couch to look into the small kitchen. “Where is it?”
“We decided to order something,” I replied, hearing the door open as Clint walked out of the bathroom, drying his face with a hand towel.
“You invited me over for dinner and didn’t make any dinner?” Greg asked. “Why didn’t we just go to a restaurant?”
As Clint walked into the room, he asked Greg, “What are you moaning about now?”
Clint had finally gotten comfortable enough to tease my friends, which showed me that he was easing himself into my life and I couldn’t have been happier about that.
“Dinner!” Greg quickly answered. “Where is it?”
“Well,” Clint said, grabbing my hand, “once we order it, it’ll be here in twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Hand-holding,” Greg said, gesturing towards our display of affection. “I never thought I’d see the day when Nic would hold someone’s hand.”
“Stop calling me that!” I said with a grin. “It’s Nicholas.”
Clint nodded and said, “Nic holds my hand all the time. There’s a lot you don’t know about him.”
Greg scoffed and asked, “So Clint gets to call you Nic, but I can’t?”
“That’s the way it is,” I replied, popping the bottle of wine open and pouring it into three glasses. “How are things at The Warehouse?”
“Well,” Greg replied with a sigh, picking up his glass and taking a sip, “it’s not the same without you. Allen misses you like crazy – big surprise there, huh? – and the customers have been asking about you.”
“And?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
“And there’s been no sign of Kenneth in over a month!” Greg replied with a laugh, knowing very well that Kenneth had been arrested and was awaiting trial.
“Good,” Clint said, looking down at the small scar on his knuckles from his fight with Kenneth.
“Have you heard from Kelly?” Greg asked, ignoring the norms of polite conversation as usual and not caring when something was none of his business.
I turned my head to shoot Greg a dirty look but, as usual, he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Looking over at Clint, I could see that he wasn’t bothered by the comment either, which only confirmed my previously-established opinion that he wasn’t bothered by Greg’s sense of humor.
Clint laughed casually and confidently as he replied, “Nope. But her father – my boss – has been pretty nice to me lately and I can’t help but wonder why.”
“Well,” I said, taking a sip of the wine and wincing as I realized that Greg had bought the cheapest wine possible, “that’s probably because you’re his highest-earning trainer and he doesn’t want to lose you because of something stupid his daughter did.”
“That could be the case,” Clint replied with a wink.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Greg asked, still being nosy.
“Rock Fitness gets a percentage of my training fees, so his father would lose a lot of money if I left,” Clint replied, taking a large drink from his wine glass before wincing at the taste. “Where did you buy this cheap wine?”
Greg raised one eyebrow and replied, “Who are you calling cheap?”
“Stop it,” I said, rising to my feet to walk toward the kitchen to retrieve a new, better-tasting bottle of wine. “I have another one in the kitchen.”
As I walked into the kitchen, I listened to Greg and Clint’s conversation in the living room. They didn’t know I could hear them, and I took the opportunity to be a little nosy myself. Pressing my ear to the door, I listened as Greg began to interrogate Clint.
“Are you going to be good to him?” Greg asked in his usual aggressive way.
“That’s the plan,” Clint replied casually, indicating that he wasn’t intimidated by Greg.
Still, Greg persisted and added, “He’s important to me. I don’t have any family here in the city; no one except Nicholas.”
“He’s a special guy,” Clint replied. “And I’m going to make sure he’s happy.”
The conversation faded and I turned back to the business of selecting a new bottle of wine. My heart was warmed to know that I had two men who cared deeply for me in the next room. Growing up in my small conservative town, I had never dreamed that I could surround myself with a family of my choosing, yet there I was, basking in the glow of real, caring relationships.
As I stared at one bottle of wine, I heard the kitchen door open behind me and I turned to see Clint walk into the room.
“He’s protective,” Clint whispered, obviously not wanting Greg to hear.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied, smiling as Clint walked up and placed his hands on my arms.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Clint said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on my forehead. “Are you happy here?”
“Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” I answered, feeling his soft lips as they pressed against my skin. “Are you?”
“I’m happy,” Clint said, his smile fading into a more serious expression. “I’m happy in a new kind of way; in a way that I never dreamed I could be.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen door swinging open. Greg stood in the doorway, casting a silent look of judgement upon Clint and I as we embraced.
“I can’t,” Greg said, leaning against the doorframe. “I can’t take this.”
I nodded my head, walked over to where he was standing, and replied, “You’ll take it. You’ll take it and you’ll like it.”
Greg raised one eyebrow and asked, “Is that an invitation?”
Clint, standing silently behind me, grunted in response as I turned to look at him. The three of us stood in the kitchen, feeling the wine as it slipped into our systems. Greg gestured for us to follow him back into the living room before turning and walking through the door.
As we entered the living room, I walked over to the window and slid it open, allowing a cool breeze to sweep through
the room and touch our skin. Clint looked at me skeptically, before glancing over at Greg.
“We need it open,” I said with a grin. “It’s getting hotter in here.”
“Not hot enough if you ask me,” Greg said as he slid his sweater off his shoulders before tossing it onto a chair.
It was obvious that he had been pushing himself harder at the gym, likely in an effort to increase his tips at The Warehouse. The white tee-shirt he was wearing hugged his body, and he smiled as he knew that Clint and I had noticed. Greg slid his boots off and tossed them aside before casually sitting next to Clint on the couch and motioning for me to join.
Old habits die hard, I thought as I walked over to the couch, took my position next to Clint, and slid my hand on his leg.
THE END
Newsletter from Jason
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NEWSLETTER FROM JASON COLLINS
Jeremy Johnson is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He doesn’t want to be overweight anymore, but temptation is unavoidable thanks to his job. Deciding to make a change for the better, he dedicates himself to implementing a new diet and exercise program that he hopes will whip him into shape. He makes himself a promise that he intends to keep, but it doesn’t help that he works for a food-focused blog where he spends his days writing about delicious, forbidden food that he knows he’s not supposed to indulge in.
When the blog he writes for is purchased by a fitness company, he realizes he’s going to be the odd man out among his new fit, attractive colleagues. On his first day, he meets his new coworker, the infamous Ryan Bennett, a man known for his dedication to all things fitness. Muscles, cockiness, and a trademark smile all seem natural to Ryan, but no one knows if he’s attracted to men or women.
With encouragement from Ryan, Jeremy decides to shape up his life, work on his attitude, and rebuild his physique, but he soon discovers that it isn’t as easy as he originally thought. While maneuvering his way toward a new lifestyle, he and Ryan quickly begin to form a bond. But when Jeremy senses a flirtatious vibe from Ryan, he’s forced to choose between allowing his weight to define him or ditching his old insecurities for a shot at something exciting.
Also by Jason Collins
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The Warehouse Page 18