The only thing that had changed was Brody’s body. Gone was the gangly teen build and in its place stood the hard, compact, muscular body of a man. The tight jeans he wore showed off every inch of those assets perfectly, too.
They both stood there, facing off like in some kind of old-time Western—Dale struck dumb at the sight of the man he cared so much about, Brody shooting off a murderous glare.
Well aware of the fact they had a teenage audience and that they couldn’t stand there all day, Dale nervously cleared his throat and said, “Hey, how are things going?”
Brody answered by slamming the door in Dale’s face, the loud sound seeming to echo down the street. Stunned, he could do nothing but stare at the piece of wood, almost as if he could look at it long enough for it to simply vanish and the incident to never have taken place. Then he heard a soft giggle coming from the next yard over and he knew he had to do something.
Turning to point a finger at Ayla, he warned, “Not a word from you.”
That only made her laugh harder. More determined than ever, Dale turned and pounded on the door again. “Open up, Brody. We need to talk.”
“Fuck off!” was the muffled response.
Dale almost replied that he would like to do just that with Brody, but he held his tongue out of respect for the young ears nearby.
“Come on. Don’t do this,” Dale pleaded.
“Oh, yeah. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience Mr Air Force by making him have to stand outside in the hot weather.”
“It’s the middle of winter, so it’s not warm at all. In fact, I’m freezing my balls off. Plus, I’m not in the Air Force anymore.”
“What? Did they kick you out for being a douchepickle?”
Dale pulled a face. Douchepickle? Brody always came up with the strangest comebacks.
“I don’t think they discharge people from the military for that.”
“You’re lucky then, because if they did, you would have been the first one given the boot.”
“He’s right, you know? You would have been out on day one,” Ayla added.
Letting out a groan, Dale rested his forehead against the wood. “Please, baby. Just let me in. All I’m asking for is five minutes.”
The door opened so fast that Dale actually stumbled a few steps before he recovered and straightened. He glanced up to see Brody’s eyes shooting daggers. While it should have alarmed Dale, the sight of Brody—all hot, his cheeks flushed with emotion and eyes dark with fury—was a bigger turn-on than any porn site.
“You have no right to call me ‘baby’,” Brody seethed.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Dale held his hands up in surrender. “Will you at least give me a chance to talk to you?”
When Brody still hesitated, Dale added, “Please?”
Turning, Brody walked further inside the house. “Fine—you have the five minutes you want. After that, you can get the hell out of my house and this time I never want to see you again.”
Damn, but it hurt to hear those words coming from Brody, but Dale knew he deserved them and so much more. He’d fucked up big time…he knew it more than anybody. But, he also knew that he was willing to do anything to make it up to Brody. Even if it meant a lifetime’s worth of grovelling.
Glancing back at Ayla, Dale had to bite back the laughter at the crestfallen look that crept over her face. She even threw her hands up in the air and let out a moan of frustration that she wouldn’t be getting the show she’d likely hoped for. Giving her a mock wave, Dale closed the door behind him then followed Brody into the kitchen.
Since it was the same house Brody had grown up in, Dale knew the place as if it was his own. Which was fitting since he’d spent most of his childhood here. Dale’s father hadn’t exactly been the loving type, so Dale had often taken refuge with Brody’s family.
“How are your mom and dad?” Dale asked as they entered the neat but dated kitchen.
Leaning back against the counter, Brody crossed his arms over his chest. “Dad’s arthritis seems to be doing better since they moved to Florida. Mom likes it there, too, because she’s found a nice bridge club.”
“And how’s your brother?” Dale questioned, knowing he was just putting off the eventual confrontation.
Brody pulled a face. “Just ducky. He’s on his third kid. He never fails to call me on a weekly basis to let me know how proud he’s making Mom and Dad with his reproductive skills and by having the perfect Stepford Wife.”
Tracing a circle on the opposite counter, Dale said, “Don’t let him get to you. From what I heard, they’re just as delighted with you for the work you do at the women’s shelter. In fact, they’re not the only ones who are proud of you. I am, too.”
Brody let out a snort of disbelief. “Sure, then why I haven’t heard from you in four years?”
A multitude of emotions slammed into Dale, none of them good. Guilt, shame, regret and even a bit of anger.
“I wanted to. You have no idea how much it hurt to stay away from you.”
As soon as Brody shot him a cold stare, Dale knew that’d been the wrong thing to say.
“You were hurt?” Brody let out a bitter laugh. “I was the one who was dumped and left behind. Not only that, but you never even bothered to send me a follow up fuck-off letter.”
Dale reached out for Brody but let his hand drop when the other man flinched away from his touch. “I thought if I tried to contact you, it would only make things worse.”
Brody clenched his hands into fists and took in a few shaky breaths, but not before Dale caught the glimmer of hurt passing over his former lover’s eyes. “You chose the Air Force over me. How could anything hurt more than that?”
“I was wrong to do that. I was younger then and desperate to please my father.”
“So desperate that you didn’t care if you broke my heart in the process,” Brody countered.
Dale wanted to shout that it’d broken his heart, too, but he knew he had no right to any anger, so he held it in. “All I heard growing up was how I needed to continue the tradition and join the Air Force like all the other men in my family. It killed my dad that he couldn’t do it because of his heart defect, so he drilled it into my head that it was my responsibility to keep our honour.”
“Bullshit—that was just another way for him to manipulate you and we both know it.”
Dale finally took a tiny step forward, his heart soaring when Brody didn’t pull back. “I realise that now, but at the time I was just a young, stupid kid who was desperate to make my family proud of me.”
Brody glanced up, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “You were also terrified to admit that you were gay. As long as we kept it secret, you were fine with it, but once the rumours started, you couldn’t get away fast enough.”
Damn it, how Dale wanted to deny that, but he knew he had to ‘fess up. He owed Brody at least that much.
“He threatened to kill me and you both, if I didn’t leave.”
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About the Author
Stephani Hecht is a happily married mother of two. Born and raised in Michigan, she loves all things about the state, from the frigid winters to the Detroit Red Wings hockey team. You can usually find her snuggled up to her laptop, creating her next book.
Email: [email protected]
Stephani Hecht loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Stephani Hecht
In The Crease
Stealing My Heart: Dragon’s Eye
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