by V. L. Locey
“O’Malley, if you hadn’t almost bled to death last night I’d be so fucking mad at you.” Garrison snapped as the bell pinged softly. “After all the shit that you gave me about honesty, and then you keep something this big from me, it’s just—”
Garrison clamped his mouth shut when my nurse came hustling in. She was not the woman I had mumbled to last night. This nurse was thin, redheaded, and wore a smock with butterflies on it. After she checked me out, tended to all of my bandages, and jotted down my vitals, she did something with the IV that I hoped would get me drugged up quickly.
“I’ll bring you and your partner some breakfast. Your family is down in the cafe eating. They’ll be glad to know that you were awake for a bit,” she said then exited to track down some food, although I was not the least bit hungry.
“Try to eat what they bring you,” Garrison said. I gave him a questioning look. “I know what that crinkled nose of yours means.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” I said and tried to get comfortable. It was impossible. Every time I moved anything aside from my big toe, the pain in my side exploded.
“You should be.” He grumbled while trying to arrange the pillows behind me so that I’d stop wiggling. Garrison leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. His lips were warm and soft on my skin. I desperately wanted to throw my arms around him and never let him go. “You’re supposed to be with me for life.”
“I know.” I breathed out, my words ruffling a few strands of dark brown hair over his ear. I inhaled the faint hint of lemon soap and Garrison and the pain in my side lessened just a bit. “I will be.”
“Not if you keep hiding shit like hate crimes against you from me.” He snapped but stayed where he was, bent over, his arms locked, and his mouth moving over my rough cheek. “Don’t ever hide anything like that from me again.”
“I won’t, I promise.” I let my head loll to the side to rest on his jaw. “That nurse thinks you’re my partner.”
“I am,” he replied then pushed away from me far enough so that he could look me in the eye. “I’m your life partner, your boyfriend, and your best friend.”
“But if she knows that you’re my boyfriend…”
“I give no fucks about that anymore. I told my coach that my boyfriend had been stabbed and I had to leave to get back home.” He confessed, his eyes searching mine. My mouth fell open. “He was cool about it, Mal. Like, he didn’t care one bit if I was gay. All he cared about was getting me here as fast as possible. He lined up a flight and got me into a cab. I was kind of a major wreck at the time.” Garrison pressed his mouth to mine. It was a brush of lips, but oh how wonderful it felt.
“Good that he knows.” I murmured across his lips. “I want some soup with cream and little potatoes.”
Garrison gave me a peculiar look. “Is that you talking or the pain meds?”
“I don’t know. You’re so pretty, I love that you’re so pretty.”
“Okay, that must be the meds kicking in. Why don’t you just get some sleep? I’ll yell at you later when you’re not doped up.” He pulled the covers to my chin.
“I love you, pretty baseball man.”
“I love you too, Mal. Now sleep. You’ve got some healing to do.”
Healing sounded good, as did knowing that Garrison told his coach that he was gay. The whole world looked incredibly bright at that moment, but that could have been the Percocet.
Epilogue
As it turned out, it wasn’t the pain medication at all that had made the world seem bright, it was life finally giving us the answer to our problems. As with most things numerical, it simply took some work to uncover the proper equation and root out the right answer. That resolution being that honesty and love are the foundations for a solid relationship. Of course, Garrison and I had known that but shucking aside all our fears seems to be more difficult than acute triangulations of complex polyhedra. In non-math terms, it is miserably hard.
I took a bite out of a firm apple, gifted to me just this morning by one of my students, pushed up from my seat behind my desk, and turned to face my whiteboard. The twinge in my side disappeared quickly. What a shame that people like Crocker Arnold couldn’t fade away like an injury. Not that recovering from the attack had been easy – because it had not. I was healing, perhaps more so mentally than physically now. The trial, and my testimony, still loomed in our future. It was the one dark cloud on the horizon.
I turned from writing the next lesson on the whiteboard when I heard a short rap on my classroom door. The turkey and pumpkin covered door creaked open and Garrison stuck his head in.
“Hey, teach, got a minute?” he asked and I waved him in.
“For you, I’ll spare two minutes,” I said as he stepped inside and closed the door. “I’m so happy to see you in the middle of the day.”
“Yeah, I got done at the gym and thought I’d drop in,” he said while strolling around my classroom. He looked so good in his jeans and Cutters hoodie, his hair still damp from his shower. “Man, leave it to a math teacher to even make Thanksgiving about numbers.” He commented after picking up a worksheet from one of the student desks.
“Life is numbers, my good man.” I told him to which he rolled those beautiful brown eyes then replaced the worksheet to the desk. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but why are you here?”
“Can’t I stop by to see my boyfriend?” He stalked up to me. I offered him my apple. He shook his head then bent down to steal a kiss. The subtle taste of his afternoon coffee still lingered on his lips. He had used vanilla creamer. He stepped back and looked me over. I was starting to accept that he had to do that now every time we reunited from any time apart. Funny how I was the victim and yet that crime touched all who loved me. My father, the Rooks, and of course, Garrison, all had their lives changed.
My father had installed more locks on his doors and had joined Mr. and Mrs. Rook in setting up the first LGBTQ community outreach program in Willow Glen. They hoped to bring gays and straights together to learn from each other and eradicate another attack like the one perpetrated against me, or so they hoped.
Emily still had nightmares about that night, according to Mrs. Rook. Even though I have told her a million times what had happened was not her fault. Crocker would have simply found another place to ambush me if the kidnapping of Tipsy hadn’t worked. If his statement after arrest were the truth, he had planned to use the dog to lure Emily into the woods. Once he had her, he then planned to dangle her out there in hopes that he could get Garrison and me, or least me, to meet him deeper in the woods where he planned to take out both of us “cock-sucking abominations”. It was no wonder poor Emily had night terrors. Can you imagine knowing that someone had plans to use you as bait so he could kill your brother and his boyfriend? I hoped my testimony at his trial next May puts him away for a long, long time.
“Hey.” Garrison snapped his fingers in front of my face. I jerked back to reality and gave him a sheepish look.
“Sorry, I drifted.”
“I’m used to it,” he said with a warm smile. “The reason I stopped by was to see if you wanted me to pick up something for the dinner at Pat and Mona’s tonight?”
“No, I think I’ll grab the makings for a pecan pie.” I told him and took another bite of my apple. He nodded as I chewed. I could sense there was something else gnawing at him. A simple text message would have gotten him the reply to his query and saved him gas. “Is there something wrong?” I enquired after I swallowed.
His dark eyes flittered to the equations on the board then came back to me. “My agent got a call from Out magazine.”
“Wow,” I replied on a whisper. That was big news, and it was obviously upsetting Garrison. We had never sent out a memo, tweet, or press release. We had just started showing up at team functions as a couple. That suited Garrison. I suppose you could say we just eased our gayness into the minor league baseball world and they accepted it wholly. He shoved a hand through his hair. “That’s an
incredible offer.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this type of thing.” He admitted as the sounds of students returning from lunch began to filter in through the closed door. “I think they got wind of the Crocker thing and discovered that we were a couple.” He gazed at the door and the kids walking past. “They want to talk with both of us, Mal. About the crime and baseball, how we’re handling it, what we want to say to young gay athletes and mathematicians. I never wanted this kind of spotlight. It will bring out the lunatics. I almost lost you to one madman.”
I put my apple on my desk and closed the distance between us. He pulled me into his arms. I rested my brow against his as I held him close.
“It may also help kids out there who are struggling like you did for so many years.” I gently reminded him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His warm exhalation moved over my lips. “I’m fine with it, with talking about us and what happened, but if you’re not, then we won’t do it. It’s that simple.”
He gave me a soft peck on the nose. “I still don’t know how we ever worked out being a couple as well as we did.”
“Oh, that’s an easy equation,” I said, sliding out of his arms. I picked up a red dry-erase marker from the shelf under the whiteboard and wrote the following on the board:
1/2 <3 + 1/2 <3 = <3
The End
~~*~~
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Other Books by V.L. Locey
Gone Writing Publishing Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases
Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom series)
Twirly Girl (Book Two of the Venom Series)
Tape to Tape (Book Three of the Venom Series)
Angle Play (Book Four of the Venom Series)
Flow (Book Five of the Venom Series)
Roster Addition (a To Love a Wildcat hockey romance novella)
Playmaker (A Venom FF Novella)
Independent LGBT Releases
On Broadway (Part of the 2016-2017 Changing on the Fly M/M charity hockey anthology)
Holly & Hockey Boots (An M/M holiday hockey romance novella)
Point Shot Trilogy Boxed Set
Snap Shot - Cayuga Cougars #1
Changing Lines – Harrisburg Railers #1 - Coauthored with Rj Scott
Open Net - Cayuga Cougars #2
Blue Line Collection #1
Finding the Edge - Brighton Wood Blades #1
Rookie Moves (Part of the 2107/2018 Changing on the Fly M/M charity hockey anthology)
First Season – Harrisburg Railers #2 – Coauthored with Rj Scott
2018
Coming 1/10/18 … The Bachelor and the Balladeer - Tales of the Scarlet Owl #1
Coming 2/14/18 … Breakout – Brighton Wood Blades #2
Coming 4/4/18 … Harrisburg Railers #3 – Coauthored with Rj Scott
Coming 5/30/18 … Cayuga Cougars #3 – Coach’s Challenge
Coming 6/27/18… The Magician and the Mechanic – Tales of the Scarlet Owl #2
Coming 8/1/18… Harrisburg Railers #4 – Coauthored with Rj Scott
Coming 9/6/18 … Home & Away – Brighton Wood Blades #3
Coming 11/1/18…- Cayuga Cougars #4 – Overtime
Coming 12/1/18… Harrisburg Railers #5 – Coauthored with Rj Scott
About the Author
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and two steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Goodreads, her website and her blog:
Website: http://vlloceyauthor.com/
Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452
Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey
Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/
Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey
My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/