“Dylan! Dylan! We came!” The girls rushed to the low fence separating the field from the bleachers.
Dylan looked up from his conversation and a slow, wide smile spread across his face that warmed Apollo all the way to his toes. He couldn’t help but smile back. And when Dylan waved, he waved back, just like the girls. Like a loon.
“That your other kid? I heard they were bringing in someone new for this game. Fresh blood. Should be a good game.” The purple-haired woman next to Apollo gave him a toothy grin.
“No. Not my kid.” Apollo didn’t blush. Ever. Hell, the military had drummed the ability to feel embarrassment out of him. And despite all that, he still felt his cheeks heat as his throat tightened.
“Oh. Oh.” The woman’s eyes went wide. “My bad. Boyfriend? He’s a cutie—”
“Just a family friend. He watches my kids.” Apollo forced his voice to be firm, chasing away any hint of nervous stammer by tightening his jaw.
“That’s cool.” The woman’s tone said she didn’t quite believe him. And that was okay. Apollo didn’t quite believe himself.
“What’s a boyfriend?” Sophia left Chloe by the fence to come crawl into Apollo’s lap. Oof. He bit back a groan as she settled against him. These bleachers weren’t doing his back any favors.
“Well...” Interrogation training hadn’t prepared him for this. “When you really like someone—”
“Oh! Like married!” She clapped her hands together. “You and Daddy were boyfriends?”
“Before we got married, yeah.” Apollo’s sinuses burned. Damn. Reminders of Neal weren’t supposed to still sting after all this time.
“Are you and Dylan boyfriends?” Her face tilted up to stare at him, dark eyes intent. “Because then you could get married!”
“No.” He shut that line of thought down with a firm shake of his head. “We’re not boyfriends. Just regular friends.”
Maybe if he repeated the line enough, he’d start to believe it.
“That means no kissing,” Sophia said sagely.
“Yup.” Apollo tried to ignore the twinge in his side. It wasn’t a lie precisely. They hadn’t kissed in days.
On the field, Dylan deftly passed the ball to another player for an easy goal. He punched the air before high-fiving the other player. Apollo and Sophia joined the cheers from the crowd at the first point of the game. On his way back down the field, Dylan threw a glance their direction, eyes meeting Apollo’s for a fraction of a second. And in that moment, Apollo shared his joy and wanted more of that electric energy. No kissing. Why the hell was that such a hard rule to keep to where Dylan was concerned? Why couldn’t Dylan stay put in the neat little box labeled “family friend” instead of turning Apollo’s life on edge and giving him hard questions at every turn?
* * *
“Ready for this week to be over?” Allie smiled from the doorway to the storage room where Dylan was shelving art supplies.
“Yeah.” Dylan lined up boxes of markers. Truth be told, it had been a very weird week. He and Apollo had traded off with the girls, watched their TV show together, and went to bed alone. They’d both pulled back from anything more than some sleepy touches on the couch, and Dylan still wasn’t sure what to make of that. Their last encounter had been so full of...potential that it had been almost scary in its intensity. He couldn’t speak for Apollo, but it had made Dylan wary of getting his feelings trampled on if they continued to hook up on the regular. So yeah, maybe it was good that they hadn’t had a repeat yet.
“Well, you’ve certainly been in a funk lately.” Allie flipped her hair over one shoulder. “But I’ve got news for you that will make you smile.”
“Oh?”
“The Logan Heights Boys and Girls Club just posted a listing for an assistant branch manager. And word is that their branch manager will be retiring in the next year or so. This could be an inside track to that job.”
“Wow.” That was pretty much Dylan’s dream job situation. But Logan Heights wasn’t terribly far from Apollo’s neighborhood. As in a ten-minute drive versus all the way back in Oregon, where he’d been saying he was headed.
“Any luck finding anything around Eugene or Portland?” Allie was surprisingly good at reading his thoughts. “Because if not, you really should think about this. It would be so good to have you stick around, and hey, I’m sure a winter without rain would be cool too.”
“Stick around.” Dylan rolled the words around in his mouth, testing them out. Apollo surely wasn’t going to like the sound of that. Dylan knew full well he never would have screwed around with him if Dylan hadn’t made it clear that this was a limited-time deal.
“I could help you find a roommate situation. I’m sure the salary’s ridiculously low, but you could make it work.” Allie looked at him with beseeching eyes. “Just apply. If I didn’t have another year of school, I’d be all over the job listing myself.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to put my resumé in,” Dylan said slowly. He didn’t want Apollo thinking that he was sticking around like a lovesick puppy, but maybe he could just keep this on the down low until he had something worth sharing. Because maybe Apollo wouldn’t care one way or another. Dylan’s hands clenched around a box of markers. That was exactly what he was worried about. Hell, even Apollo being upset would be better than him being indifferent.
After finishing the cleanup with Allie, he had her look over his cover letter. With all the resumés he’d been sending out, he had everything ready to go, and he hit Send before the doubt crows fluttering in his stomach could stop him.
Back at the house, he walked into the heady aroma of tomatoes and cheese and the happy sound of the girls playing in the living room. He snuck by them and headed to the kitchen where Apollo was chopping vegetables for a salad. In the oven, a casserole bubbled away.
“Just in time.” Apollo had changed from his uniform into shorts and a T-shirt, and his long feet were bare. Why the contrast between Apollo-the-dad and Apollo-the-lieutenant turned him on so much he had no idea. Bare feet and ropey forearms sticking out of faded T-shirts shouldn’t be a kink for him, but they totally turned his crank.
“Smells great.” Dylan tried to cover his blatant ogling of Apollo by sniffing the air.
“Yeah.” Apollo gave Dylan a tight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Dylan crossed the kitchen in quick strides to come stand beside him behind the island.
“Nothing.” Apollo shrugged, then winced.
“Your back again?” Dylan cast a glance at the empty doorway before putting his hands on Apollo’s shoulders and starting a deep rub.
“No. Ahhh—” Apollo groaned as he leaned into the touch. “I mean no more than usual.”
“Which means it’s still bad, but you’re being stubborn. Made that doctor’s appointment yet?” Dylan dug his fingers into a knot of muscles at the back of Apollo’s neck.
“Nothing they can tell me that I don’t already know,” Apollo huffed. “They’re going to mention another surgery and no way in fuck am I going that route.”
“You need to at least think about it.” This would be the perfect moment to tell Apollo about the job, tell him that he could stick around and help in the fall if Apollo had the surgery, but somehow the words refused to reach his lips.
“Baba! I’m packing!” Chloe rushed into the kitchen dragging a backpack, making Dylan quickly drop his hands.
“I said I would pack,” Apollo said sternly.
“But I can’t find Bee Baby,” she whined. “What if you forget her?”
“We’ll find her after dinner. Right now, go wash your hands and tell your sister to do that too.” Apollo turned away to remove the casserole from the oven.
“The doll’s in the bathroom on the magazine rack,” Dylan offered as Chloe scampered away.
“Where are they going?”
“Oh didn’t I tell you? They’re going to Disney this weekend with Pat and Marilyn.” Apollo said the words offhand but they stung like mosquitoes. Fine. If Apollo couldn’t think to tell him when something big was happening with the girls, Dylan wasn’t going to feel one lick of guilt over not telling him about the job application.
“That’s nice.” Dylan kept his voice as neutral as Apollo’s. After all he couldn’t really think his opinion mattered one way or another to Apollo. You’re just the help, he reminded himself. “You working?”
“Part of it.” The tips of Apollo’s ears colored. “I need to keep my mind off them.”
Dylan had a few ideas about how he could fill his time, but seeing as how he hadn’t been consulted, all he said was, “They’ll be fine.”
“I know.” Apollo sighed heavily. “It’s like my brain just won’t shut up—what if Sophia doesn’t eat or Chloe gets scared or the car breaks down? And I’ve got no idea why I’m unloading all this on you.”
“It’s okay.” Dylan resumed his massage of Apollo’s shoulders, unable to stay irked in the face of Apollo’s obvious worry. “You’re a dad. It’s your job to worry, but sometimes you have to let them go.”
“Thanks.” Apollo relaxed further into Dylan’s grip. God, Dylan loved watching this tightly wound man unkink, even a little. Apollo’s voice was huskier when he spoke next. “You’re ridiculously good at that you know?”
“Massage?” Dylan’s lips were millimeters from Apollo’s skin, and the urge to trace the tendons in his neck with his tongue was almost overwhelming. Heat gathered in his groin and for the first time he was aware of just how close they were standing.
“That too, but I was going to say calming me down.” Apollo spun, trapping Dylan against the fridge. His eyes were dark with an intent Dylan had only seen a handful of times. A shiver raced up his spine. “Maybe—”
“Baba! Where’s the food?” The girls rushed back into the room. Damn. He’d been so sure he was about to get kissed or propositioned or both. But instead he ducked under Apollo’s arm and grabbed the girls’ plates.
“Sorry,” Apollo said in a low voice. “Later... Or maybe tomorrow? After I drop them off?”
“Later,” Dylan echoed as all his good reasons for avoiding Apollo crumbled under the force of the promise of that word. Later they’d hook up. Later there would be all the messy complications they both wanted to avoid. Later he’d tell Apollo about the job. Later this thing would inevitably end. Later would be the time for regrets, but right now there was hot food to eat and a weekend to anticipate. Later could wait.
Chapter Fourteen
Apollo arranged to leave the base early enough on Friday to pick the girls up from day camp and drop them off at Pat and Marilyn’s house. They lived in a historic Mission-style home not far from either Apollo’s house or the day camp. It had been important to Neal to stay close to his parents, and since his trust fund was the one helping to buy the house, Apollo had conceded instead of pushing for something closer to base. The first few times he’d visited after Neal’s death had been hard—he saw Neal’s ghost everywhere in the house where he’d bounded up the steps to first introduce Apollo to his parents, the place where they had both raced to share the news of the surrogacy, the house filled with memories of Neal growing up.
Even now Apollo had to avert his eyes from the line of pictures on the wall of the entryway. Luckily, the girls were hopping around and swinging their backpacks and making the sort of distraction he needed.
“You sure you want to drive in Friday traffic?” he asked Marilyn as Pat greeted the girls and took their luggage. Pat had on a polo shirt and jaunty white visor. She looked like an aging cruise director, right down to the clipboard she toted in one hand.
“We’ll be fine.” Marilyn made an airy gesture. Unlike Pat’s efficient outfit, she was wearing a long vest over colorful leggings with donuts on them. “I’ve picked out several good spots to stop for dinner depending on how far we get. Healthy places before you ask.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad,” Apollo said even though he totally was.
“Yes, you are.” Marilyn patted his cheek. “And we love you for it, and I promise to text you when we’re at the hotel.”
“I’m not sure they’ll sleep—”
“Apollo.” Marilyn’s voice was stern. “This will be fun. And you should have fun too. What do you have planned for tonight? Maybe head to the brewery for a beer or see if those friends of yours will go out—”
“Not the brewery.” Apollo wasn’t exactly proud of it, but he still avoided Neal’s favorite restaurants. And no way was he in the mood for the Brass Rail or another popular night spot. Truth be told, the only plans he had centered around the leap in his pulse every time he remembered that he got to be alone with Dylan that night. “I’ll come up with something.”
Dylan deserves more than Netflix and chill. The thought wormed its way into his head and refused to let go, even after he said goodbye to Marilyn and Pat and ensured that the girls were buckled up.
He sat in the car for long moments after the girls and their grandmothers departed, trying not to get all emotional about his babies going somewhere far away without him. Get a grip.
A sports car filled with young people zoomed into the driveway of the house next door to Marilyn and Pat. They piled out of the car, laughing and shoving, already well on their way to a toasty Friday night. Was I ever that young?
Man, he missed Dustin. Dustin who remembered who Apollo was before all of this. Dustin who could help him sort out the jumble of emotions... Dustin who would kill you if he knew what you were up to with his brother.
Okay, not Dustin. But someone. Apollo wished there was one person he could talk to without guilt or judgment or...
Dylan. He was that person, or at least could be, like last night when he’d listened to him ramble and reassured him and not made him feel stupid for his worries. And Dylan hadn’t seen much of San Diego since coming into town.
Apollo didn’t feel up to taking Dylan around the same Hillcrest haunts Neal had loved, but filed away at home he had a gift certificate for Il Fornaio. Marilyn had won it at an auction to benefit the Men’s Chorus and stuck it in his stocking at Christmas, but Apollo hadn’t felt up to using it at the time. It was the sort of spot popular with the anniversary dinner and third date crowd, not at all his sort of place. But, Dylan would probably jump at the chance to explore the Coronado waterfront and eat a nice steak and pasta. He wasn’t that different from the kids in the car, the ones now spilling onto the balcony of the neighbor’s house, laughing and looking for a good time. Dylan deserved more than a pizza and some groping.
Before he could overthink it, he grabbed his phone from the console. Surely there wasn’t any harm in seeing if there was a table free at a reasonable hour? It didn’t have to be a date date. It could just be him doing something nice for Dylan. Yeah. That was all this was. But even deciding that didn’t quiet the buzz in his pulse or the quickening in his stomach.
* * *
After the last campers were picked up, Dylan made quick work of the cleanup and headed home. Funny how quickly Apollo’s house had become that. Silence reigned as he entered the house, and he remembered that the girls were gone, something he’d tried not to think about while working. Apollo had looked too damn good in his uniform when he’d picked the girls up, and Dylan hadn’t been able to give him more than a quick wave without his thoughts drifting to what they might get up to that night.
“I’m back,” he called out as he headed to the kitchen. All his resolutions about keeping his distance from more sex with Apollo fled in the face of fierce lust. In fact, maybe it was better this way—end all this dithering and simply jump Apollo’s bones right now, no preliminaries, get the last of this inconvenient attraction out of the way for both of the
m, remind himself that all there was between them was hormones and sex and—
“Holy crap. You look good.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as he took in the sight of Apollo wiping down an already-spotless counter while wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of gray twill slacks with a shiny black belt.
“Thanks. I thought it might be nice to go out to dinner?”
“Out?” Dylan’s plan of pushing Apollo back against the fridge and blowing him warred with curiosity over what Apollo was up to.
“Yeah, you know, eat a steak uninterrupted by kids, see some of San Diego that maybe you haven’t yet.” Apollo shrugged like this was no big deal but his eyes were tight. “Thought maybe we could take the ferry to the Coronado, eat on the waterfront.”
“Ah.” Dylan couldn’t manage much more than the sound. Is this a date? Can this be a date? Are you asking me out? Questions swirled around his brain but he couldn’t find the words to vocalize them, not wanting to spook whatever change had come over Apollo.
“Marilyn gave me a certificate for one of the restaurants on the waterfront for Christmas. Great view of the city. Thought that might be fun for you and I better use the certificate up before it expires.”
Okay. Not really a date then if Apollo was framing it in terms of expiration dates and a favor for him. Not exactly what his treacherous heart had hoped for at the sight of Apollo all dressed up, but exactly what he deserved.
“Give me ten minutes to shower?” he asked because any other response he could come up with seemed rude. Even if a petty part of him wanted to turn Apollo down for not offering what he really wanted, the small waver of uncertainty in Apollo’s eyes stopped him from declining, kept him from hardening his heart against this tentative gesture.
“Sure.” Apollo offered him a small smile. “I’ll just finish in here—kind of relaxing to clean when I know it will stay clean more than five minutes.”
Dylan rushed through a shower before digging in the back of his closet for a shirt with buttons. Maybe this wasn’t a date exactly but it was still thoughtful and the least he could do was get presentable. He tamed his curly hair the best he could and slipped on a blue shirt that his ex-boyfriend the trainer had always liked on him.
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