Crossing the Touchline

by Jay Hogan

  “Out with his boyfriend, I imagine.”

  I paused midchew. “What? I thought he was straight.” How had I missed this?

  Cam shrugged. “So did I, but apparently we were both wrong. He recently informed me he’s bi and is currently exploring the full experience of that.”

  Holy smoke. “Huh. And you were gonna tell me… when?”

  He grinned. “Just did, didn’t I?” He smiled apologetically. “He’s been keeping it quiet, and it wasn’t my story to tell, but he says he’s okay with you knowing. A secret each, I guess.”

  I added Cam’s plate to mine and walked both to the dishwasher before returning to the couch with two glasses of water. “Does Mathew know?” I nestled in alongside him once again.

  He nodded. “Reckons he’ll be the last het left standing in the family. I don’t think I told you one of my other cousins is a lesbian.”

  I snorted. “Something in the water at your place?”

  He laughed. “All part of the gay agenda, my friend. First you get the numbers, then you conquer the world.”

  I gave him the side-eye. “You gonna slay ’em with lace and guyliner?”

  He threw an arm around me and pulled me onto his chest, which considering my size advantage meant I pretty much buried him under me.

  “Precisely,” he chuckled, slipping a hand down the back of my sweats. “Gonna bring out those weapons of mass seduction.”

  I laughed out loud and kissed his nose. “Idiot.”

  “I bet you’d be first in line,” he gibed.

  “Damn right.”

  He smiled warmly, and something deep inside glowed a little brighter.

  Then, it came to me. “Shit, I forgot to tell you,” I sputtered, and grabbed his wandering hand. “Pay attention.”

  “I am.” He dragged his hand free and shoved it back down my sweats.

  “Ugh, you’re impossible,” I said, but with zero heat. If he never removed his hand, it was fine with me. “I’m up for the next Bledisloe. Major’s out for the rest of the season.”

  He immediately withdrew his hand and pushed me off with a scowl. “And you’re only telling me this now?”

  I winced. “Well, it’s not like you gave me a chance when I got here. You answered the door in a fucking towel. It kind of exploded everything else in my head, you know?”

  He appeared somewhat mollified. “Yeah, I can see how that would happen.” He smirked. “But this is big, right? As in big, big.”

  I nodded. “The biggest. And there’re two tickets coming your way.”

  He flung his arms around my neck, smothering my face and neck with wet, smacking kisses. “I’m so damn proud of you,” he said between smooching attacks on my throat.

  I grabbed his head and turned him so I could catch his lips. In moments like this, I still couldn’t believe he was actually mine, that I could touch him wherever and whenever I wanted. I’d never pass up the chance to have Cameron Wano in my arms or under my lips. Unless it’s in public, something deep inside mocked. Shit.

  “Thanks, babe,” I breathed the words against his mouth. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  He pulled back. “Really? I’m the first?”

  “Of course you are.”

  He stared at me for a minute, a shy smile brushing his lips, and suddenly that toppy-as-hell bastard was nowhere to be seen. In his place was this coy, slightly sheepish guy, immeasurably touched by something as simple as being first on my call list.

  I couldn’t help myself. “Hell, you’re cute like that.”

  He threw me off, eyes flashing. “Wash your mouth out,” he growled. “I am not cute. And if you ever call me that again, I will shove your dick in a cock cage and not let you come for a week.”

  I winced, then tugged on his hand. “Aw, come here.” I hauled him over and wrapped him tight in my arms. He struggled for a bit, but I was having none of it. Outside of the bedroom that bossy attitude didn’t cut shit with me. “Quit wriggling,” I whispered against the side of his head, pinning his arms against his sides. He huffed but immediately curled up in my lap like a snarling cat you had to watch your fingers with.

  “Two tickets, huh?’ he purred, slowly relaxing.

  “Uh-huh.” I tunnelled my fingers through his sleek hair and popped a light kiss on his temple, not sure I’d ever known a more perfect evening.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cam

  “SO, WHO is he?” My mother passed the heaped bowl of pillowy mashed potatoes my way.

  Ignoring the question, I shovelled a large spoonful alongside my roast lamb and peas, then drowned everything in a pool of thick, satiny gravy. The mouthwatering smell had my stomach groaning in anticipation.

  “Cam?”

  Fuck. She was pissy now. “What, darling Mother?”

  Her gaze narrowed, and next to me Mathew choked on a pea while my father chuckled. Our mother didn’t take kindly to snark, and she was way, way too perceptive.

  A foot connected with mine under the table and my glance shot up to Jasmine sitting opposite. “Yeah, Cam, who is he?”

  Bitch. I poked my tongue at her.

  “Jazz,” Mark chided. Jasmine’s long-suffering boyfriend had no idea what he’d signed up for when he’d asked out my hurricane of a sister six months ago, but judging by the besotted looks he sent her way, he’d fallen hard. I just wasn’t sure if Jasmine realised how gone he was over her. She could be dense that way, and I worried for the man’s heart.

  “There’s no one,” I lied, and hated it. My parents had been freaking saints when I’d come out, and this was how I paid them back?

  They’d found out about Dominic at the end of that relationship, and it had been a visceral kick in the gut for them to realise I’d hidden him/us for so long despite them doing their best to keep me open and positive when I was growing up. I promised I’d never go down that track again. Guilty, much? Shit.

  I didn’t need to check to know my mother’s eyes were still fixed on me, waiting. But when I finally did look up, instead of irritation, there lay deeply etched worry. Damn. My family meant everything to me, and if Reuben and I didn’t make it, I was going to need them like never before. Not to mention they deserved so much better. Forgive me, Rube.

  “Okay.” All eyes landed on me, and I felt like a possum in the headlights. “There is someone, so ten points for being astute, damn you, but I can’t give you his name. I care for him a great deal, but for a number of very legitimate reasons, he isn’t out.” I paused, waiting for the backlash.

  There was silence for a good few seconds, broken only by Mathew’s barely audible, “Fuck, Cam.”

  “Mathew,” my mother warned. “Language.”

  My father put his cutlery down, tenting his hands in front of his face. I couldn’t even look at my mother.

  “Oh, son.” Dad’s voice was heavy with concern and… yeah… fuck… disappointment. “You said the last time—”

  “I know what I said.” I cut him off—not to be rude, but because I didn’t want any comparison made between that douchebag Dominic and Reuben.

  Mathew laid a hand on my forearm. “We’re just worried, you know?”

  I took a deep breath and nodded. “I know. But it’s different this time. And don’t say it.”

  Jasmine pushed her plate aside and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “We’re family, Cam. We love you, and we don’t want you to go through that again.” Mark placed his hand over hers.

  I glanced my mother’s way. Her continued silence was… unexpected. It was rare she held back an opinion, and of everyone, she was the one I most needed to understand me. Her troubled gaze drilled a guilty hole right through me. She was struggling not to say the wrong thing, and I couldn’t have loved her more in that moment.

  “We’re really, really good together,” I offered, as something of an explanation. “He treats me well, Mum, and he wants the whole package—you know? I like him… a lot. Maybe more than like. He’s not Dominic, n
ot in any way that matters. I trust him. So please, please don’t go there.”

  Mathew snorted derisively. “You trusted Dominic too if I remember.”

  “Mathew.” My mother’s tone was sharp. “Let your brother finish.”

  I could have kissed her. But Mathew was right, and I nodded to let him know I got it. “I probably deserved that.”

  He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. That’s the whole point, Cam. You deserve so much more than that.”

  I did, and I’d get it, but there was no way to reassure them that I was safe with Reuben. I sighed. “I can’t convince you it’s okay because I can’t tell you who he is, but what I can say is that his reasons for not being out are… valid. He’s protecting someone else more than himself. Plus, I’ve told him I won’t stay hidden away for long. As soon as I’m too uncomfortable, I’ll end it. That’s the best I can give you.”

  My father shook his head. “You’ve fought so long to be who you are, Cameron Delaney Wano…”

  Fuck, he’d full-named me. Things were serious.

  “…and now you’re throwing it away? By the time you’re too uncomfortable, you might be in love with him. How easy will it be to let him go then, son?”

  I might be in love with him now, a voice inside warned. Yeah, and wasn’t that the truth. I had no answer for my father. The thought of finishing things with Reuben sent my heart into a panicked state, and it had only been a week. I shrugged. “I guess I’ll be talking to you guys if that happens, then, won’t I?”

  Conversation dimmed, and still my mother hadn’t said a word. I risked a glance her way and found the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of her lips. The sight brought a lightness to my heart for the first time.

  “Mum?” I needed to know what she was thinking.

  She took a moment to respond, studying me in that wise, restrained way of hers that had successfully raised not just us, but half the neighbours’ kids as well.

  Finally she spoke and every head at that table turned to listen. “It’s not our job to tell you what to do, son. You’ve got everything you need to make that decision behind those beautiful eyes of yours, and after what happened with that other… man… well, if you’re prepared to go through even a little of that again, then all I can say is he must be pretty special. I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy about it, but I won’t waste my breath trying to talk you out of it either. All I ask is, you don’t lose any of that self-belief that you try and instil in those kids of yours at the youth centre. Be the guy they look up to. Be worthy of them.”

  Holy crap. It would’ve been better if she’d gone to town and torn a couple of angry strips off me. Reasonable, patient, wise Mum instead played downright dirty, using the old “model to the youth centre kids” angle and it felt a hundred times worse. And by the smirk on her face, she knew exactly what she’d done.

  My dad snickered, and Mark was staring at my mother with something close to reverence, while Jasmine just shook her head in wicked delight.

  Even Mathew was impressed. “Whoa, Mum. Out of the ball park.” My brother shovelled a mouthful of lamb and potato into his gob.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about, son,” she protested. “Now pass me the lamb before it gets cold. Everyone, eat.”

  MUM’S WORDS rattled me more than I wanted to admit, so I mollified the guilt somewhat by taking Terry Hamilton and young Linc from the youth centre to the second Bledisloe test. Reuben had given me the promised two spare tickets, and Mathew coughed up for the third from the Blues’ handouts. He sat with us in a section dominated by friends and families of the two teams. Terry was a big AB fan, red-haired Linc not so much. But the chance to be alongside his crush for a couple of hours had won over any reservations he might have had.

  Sporting no makeup, Linc still looked adorably cute… and decidedly gay, bundled up in a bright neon green parka with purple scarf and matching knitted gloves. The boy had more than a touch of fabulous in him and wore it well. Terry fronted the complete opposite in faded baggy jeans, black high-tops, a distressed leather jacket, and an All Blacks beanie, looking for all the world like a hard-arse rugby supporter. With his more muscular frame, he passed as straight, no questions asked, but it was reassuring to see he had no problem cosying up to Linc, regardless of the occasional wayward glance they generated.

  As I watched, Terry touched Linc’s ear for a second, then whispered something that had the young boy vigorously shaking his head. Ignoring him, Terry ripped his beanie off and pulled it down over Linc’s freezing ears without any further conversation. The young boy startled and went to remove it, but Terry grabbed the boy’s hand and placed it between his own, ending the protest. The poor kid blushed furiously, but I swore he sidled just that little bit closer to Terry.

  My chest blossomed with warmth, and although that level of affection in a public arena like this at their age was always risky, I kept my concern to myself and simply shuffled a bit closer. I doubted my presence was going to make any difference, but Mathew was readily recognised in rugby crowds, especially in Auckland, and if people wanted to mess with any of us, they’d be in for a surprise.

  The irony wasn’t lost on me, however. I was so freaking proud of these boys having the courage to be who they were, and meanwhile I had a boyfriend in the fucking All Blacks that no one knew about because he was so deep in the closet his shoulders had coat hanger imprints on them. Fuck. My. Life. Only two weeks into this thing and already with the sighing and gnashing of teeth.

  I cast a sneaky glance Mathew’s way. He’d asked me several times about the guy I was with but hadn’t shaken it out of me yet, and nor would he. I thought he had his suspicions. He couldn’t not. But being in the same team with Reuben, Mathew was simply too close for comfort. And my brother was pissed with me about my silence for sure.

  Reuben and I spent almost every other evening together, either naked in bed or curled up on the couch talking. He was always prepared to vacate to my room if Mathew happened to come by, but my brother didn’t often call in unannounced, and since the two played together, Reuben usually had a fair idea what Mathew’s plans were on any given day. For his part, Jake mostly gave us a wide berth, for which I was thankful. He had his own stuff going on—something I needed to catch up on, I reminded myself.

  An afternoon with Cory and Reuben at Piha Beach had been something I’d particularly enjoyed. The kid was getting used to me, more trusting, though it was always pretty hard to tell. You had to know what to look for, like touching my hand with his finger in greeting, offering to share his hokey-pokey ice cream cone, or just choosing to sit close to me instead of Reuben. He was rapidly building a big-arse house inside my heart, and I could only hope he’d get to live in it.

  Reuben had enrolled him in a weekly playgroup run by a few of the parents at the support meeting, and I thought I could see a difference in him already. He still wasn’t comfortable with other kids, but he was at least watching their interactions with something bordering on interest, and that was new. Plus, Reuben said he was more interactive with himself and Craig at home—just baby steps, but everything counted, and Reuben was quietly elated.

  It all helped calm my reservations about what we were doing. Yes, I wanted Reuben out—like right now—but that was about me, and if that meant Cory might lose Reuben’s influence in his life, then yeah, that was a big problem. Trouble was, even I was finding it increasingly hard to see a solution that would work for everyone. Someone was going to get hurt whichever way it went, and I just wasn’t sure Reuben was ready to face that. He was waiting for the perfect solution, one I didn’t believe existed.

  It mattered less when we were together, but then I’d catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror at home or work and wonder what the fuck I was doing. Whatever the reason, justified or not, I still hated the sham. Even on a near-empty beach at Piha, we had to be careful to keep space—and Cory—between us. No touching, nothing.

  Not to mention I’d turned down so many invitations
to club or meet up with friends, they were showing signs of genuine concern. Most had lived through my post-Dominic, hermit, apocalyptic, depressive, mood-swing stage and I knew they wouldn’t stand for much more of my evasiveness without explanation—an explanation I couldn’t give them.

  If this was going to work, I would need to keep up my own single-life lie, which meant giving up some of my time with Reuben and continuing to be evasive with my friends. Considering I was a notorious flirt, with a history of not exactly being shy regarding taking men home as needs must, a change in those behaviours wasn’t going to go unnoticed. It was something I hadn’t really considered and definitely hadn’t discussed with Reuben. Yeah, and I got the double standard shit. Like that conversation was going to go so well, right?

  With a sigh, I shelved it all in the too-hard box and focused on the game.

  THE TEST match ended in an unexpected fifteen-all draw. Disappointing for the fans, but it meant an exciting buildup to the third and final test six weeks from now in Brisbane. I wouldn’t be attending that, but in between, there was the first South African Springbok test here in Auckland, and I had my fingers crossed Reuben would come up with some free tickets for that one also.

  The best news, however, was that although Reuben had started on the bench, Peter Lampton had been unusually off form in the first twenty minutes, missing two high balls and fumbling a pass. When he fudged a second pass and pulled up tight in his left hamstring, the coaches called him off and sent Reuben in.

  Mathew was ecstatic, jumping to his feet along with Terry and Linc to cheer Reuben’s run onto the field, whereas I hesitated. It was one of those moments where I didn’t know what was appropriate, and I hated that I needed to second-guess it. My man was gonna get forty minutes in the AB jersey, a fucking gift and totally unexpected. I was so fucking proud and excited for him my heart wanted to scream itself silly, but my head told me I needed to keep it cool, not draw attention to myself—especially from Mathew. God fucking dammit.