by Lane Hayes
“Michael was your first boyfriend?” I was a little confused. His tone inferred I knew whom he was talking about.
“Yes. You know Michael and Luke? That Michael. He’s my best friend. We met when we were teenagers. We played for the same club.”
“Oh. I didn’t know. I assumed you were only friends.”
“We are. That’s all we’ve been for years. Once we went pro, distance made it impossible to be more.”
“So what happened with your dad?”
Alex laughed as he raked his right hand through his wavy locks. “It was priceless. We were oblivious. I think Michael’s hands were inside my underwear squeezing my ass. Hell, his fingers may have been in my ass. I don’t remember anything but seeing my dad standing in the doorway. His expression was funny almost. He looked so shocked. Speechless. Talk about an erection killer.”
“Was he upset?”
“Well, he wasn’t happy,” Alex replied sarcastically. “I remember him telling us very quietly to get dressed and meet him in the living room. I was nervous for sure, but Michael was freaked out. Traditional Latino values don’t mix well with being gay. Long story short, he sat us down and gave us a ‘fatherly’ talk about discretion.”
“That’s it?”
Alex shrugged at the memory and smiled. “Discretion. Don’t flaunt your—” He waved his hand in the air. “—inclinations or whatever he called it then. Be discreet. He assured Michael no one would know, and it was our job to make sure no one ever found out. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“So you’re not out either.”
“My sister knows. My closest friends know, and slowly over the past couple of years since I retired, a portion of WeHo knows too. I refuse not to go to gay bars and clubs because my dad doesn’t want the media to know. What a joke! No one is following me around, ready to pounce on some breaking news story about a has-been former pro soccer player coming out as a happy homo.”
“I don’t know, Alex. The news these days is full of those stories. You might be surprised. But at thirty-five, almost thirty-six, isn’t it your decision anyway?”
Alex lowered his sunglasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It isn’t about how old I am and making a statement isn’t what I’m after. I love my dad. I respect him. I honor him. I know that sounds like an outdated sentiment, but it’s important in my culture to honor your elders and your traditions. I’m a good little Mexican kid at the end of the day. The problem is I’m suffocating. Three and half years ago I almost did it. I was so close, but….”
I watched him swallow convulsively and this time was smart enough to clue in. Whatever happened three and a half years ago wasn’t a good memory. His beautiful eyes clouded with poignant sadness. Alex offered a wan smile.
“You’ll know when the time is right.”
“Yeah. Fuck, fear is a powerful motivator. Trust me, I understand not wanting to talk about your sexuality in a broad sense. But on the other hand, I think it’s important to embrace who you are.” He shook his head and gave a short laugh. “Obviously I’m great at giving advice I should take myself, but can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I lowered my hand and tilted my head, waiting for him to speak.
“What about you? Do you want to be out?”
I swallowed hard and let out a big rush of air. “I’m not sure I do. Why should I? I don’t have a reason to.” I caught his irritated frown and hastened to add, “I’m not trying to be an ass, but what difference would it make for me to come out? I’m alone and probably better off that way.”
He studied me for a long moment. When the scrutiny began to get under my skin, I cocked my head sideways, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind. He surprised me by scooting closer to me in the sand. His pinky finger grazed mine, and a wave of desire raced through my blood. Fuck. This was ridiculous. If a featherlight brush of toes and fingers could get my motor running, I was seriously desperate.
“If we weren’t on a public beach right now, would you kiss me? Like I kissed you in the water? Would you want to?”
I licked my lips nervously as I let my gaze wander. With his tousled hair, gorgeous olive skin, toned body, and brilliant eyes, the guy was anyone’s definition of sexy. There was no point denying the obvious. I’d do a hell of a lot more than kiss him if he’d let me.
“Yes.” My voice was lower than I intended. It sounded raspy with desire.
“Then do it. Kiss me,” he dared.
“Now?”
“Yeah. Here and now.”
Everything about this morning had taken on a dreamlike quality. Nothing seemed real. The initial panic of revealing my sexuality was fading. My heart was still beating faster than normal, but it wasn’t fear that sent my pulse skipping. It was lust. Desire. I’d been issued a challenge to do the one thing I’d wanted to do since the night he’d barreled his way into my condo, bringing dinner and commandeering my music.
I stared at him, suddenly aware I couldn’t focus on anything besides him. His green eyes, his full mouth. Everyone and everything around us became white noise. Background fuzz I could barely hear. The only thing I could see clearly was Alex. I leaned sideways, moving my arm so it brushed against his. Then ever so lightly I touched my lips to his.
I kept my eyes open at first, thinking I didn’t want to miss a thing, but I misjudged how intensely incredible it would feel to kiss him again. The rough abrasion of his stubbled jaw against mine juxtaposed to his soft lips was an enticing combination. One I remembered loving many years ago. I closed my eyes and angled my head to deepen the connection. Alex groaned into the kiss, moving his lips over mine before gently darting his tongue at the corner of my mouth. Instinctively I reached for him, pulling at his shoulder to bring him closer. He chuckled softly and shook his head as he shifted away from me.
“That was sexy, but let’s not give that woman with the big orange hat pretending to read a romance novel the show she’s hoping for.” He smirked and inclined his head toward the lady sitting on a beach chair a few feet behind us.
I gulped and leaned back on my arms, raising my face to the sun. My heart was racing, and there was a sheen of sweat on my forehead I knew couldn’t be blamed on the weather. The longer I sat next to him in the sand with my dick throbbing in my shorts, the more anxious I became.
“Hey, don’t freak. You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”
I gave a half laugh devoid of humor but didn’t bother denying it. I kept my gaze forward and willed my cock to behave so I could stand up with a modicum of dignity and get the fuck out.
“Nate, look at me.”
I hugged my knees close to my body as I turned to comply. He’d kept his sunglasses off and was giving me a concerned look.
“I’m fine.”
“Hmm. You’re thinking too hard. Let go, and just enjoy.”
“That simple, eh?”
“It can be. Sometimes it’s the right decision to let impulse take over. Like earlier when we were surfing, and I caught part of that wave.”
“That was stupid. You could have been killed.”
Alex grinned and rubbed his foot against mine. The innocent gesture went straight to my groin.
“I was fine. I know my limitations.”
“Not when it comes to the ocean. Never underestimate what you don’t understand completely.”
“But how can you know anything unless you try? And yeah, I mean anything. How will you know what it feels like to ride a huge barrel if you don’t go for it? When you plot the bad ending in your head before you’ve experienced anything good, you’ll never try. Same with relationships. So things haven’t worked out the way you hoped in the past. Does that mean you never try again? You, my friend, need to open your mind to possibility. You know you’re bi. You kissed a man on a beach in broad daylight. Why not explore who you are?”
“Huh?”
“Get to know your gay side too, Nate. Be your whole self. Not just one tiny part that isn’t making you happy anyway. Be op
en to change. Get on that big motherfuckin’ wave, and see what happens. Maybe you’ll ride it all the way in or maybe you’ll get tossed out like a rag doll, but at least you can say you tried. Personally, I loved the rush of flying in the water out there. Yeah, it went a little sideways, but it was fun and I can’t wait to do it again.”
I smiled at the philosophical turn in conversation. Life lessons in relation to the ocean.
“You surprise me.”
“Why? Because you thought I was a dumb jock?” He held up his hand to stop my speech, then shifted his position to stand over me. “I don’t have any answers, but I do know you can’t stop moving. Or trying. Ever. Best thing for you is to see what it’s like out there.”
“Out where?”
“In the gay world. If the only gay men you know are Bran and Jake, you at least have an idea how different everyone can be.” I stood up and dusted the sand from my hands and bent to pick up my water bottle. I stopped short when he continued. “I’ll take you to a couple gay bars. I can be your wingman. What do you say?”
Nothing. That’s what. He busted up laughing at my blank expression.
“Next Saturday. Be ready by ten.” He scooped up the cooler and gave me one last cocky grin before he turned away and headed toward the parking lot.
I stared after him, bewildered. He’d done it again. In the last couple hours, I’d come out and kissed a man for the first time in years. And now he was going to accompany me to gay bars as my wingman? Insane. No fucking way. I’d make sure I was busy. Everything felt too intense suddenly. I needed space to figure out all this sensory input, and Alex was simply too distracting.
Four
THE STRAINS of an upbeat Spanish pop song greeted me as the elevator doors opened the following Wednesday evening. I rolled my eyes, though I was fully aware of the fact that my pulse skipped traitorously. I’d successfully avoided Alex for a couple days since blabbing a portion of my life story to him at the beach. Oh yeah, and kissing him. It looked like my luck was running out unless I could sneak by his condo undetected. As I neared his door, the song changed almost immediately to a Madonna classic. My mouth twitched in amusement at Alex’s colorful protest. Laughter rang from inside his condo. He obviously had company. A date? Friends? It sounded like more than one other person, but I couldn’t tell. I eyed his partially ajar door curiously as I passed.
“You can’t tell me you don’t like this song. It’s one of her best!” A voice drifted closer, but it definitely wasn’t Alex. “Why don’t you ever close the door? Your neighbors must hate you. Oh hi! I’m Luke. We’ve met.”
I stared at the pretty young man for a second, feeling like I’d been caught with my hand in a cookie jar. I was basically loitering in front of Alex’s door, and now I was gawking at a guy I’d met a while ago as though I were seeing him for the first time. I knew he was Bran’s best friend, and his boyfriend, Michael, was Alex’s best friend, but details like that had always been background noise to me. I was curious about the people who mattered to Alex, but this was hardly the time to try to decipher my uncharacteristic interest. I shifted my briefcase from my right hand to my left to shake his hand.
“Yes. Nate Erickson. Nice to—”
“Come on in, Nate! We’re having tacos and tequila.” Alex flung the door open wide and flashed me his signature bright grin. “Someone was fooling with the tunes, but I’ll put my music on.”
“No you won’t! It’s my turn. Madonna stays.” Luke crossed his arms and scowled at Alex, who cackled with glee.
“My house. I choose, mijo.”
Low laughter sounded from inside. “Quit squabbling, you two. I think the chicken is ready. Who’s hungry?”
Alex and Luke shared a glance before Luke peeled himself from the doorjamb and sighed. “I better make sure it’s cooked all the way through.”
“Please do.” Alex waited until Luke had gone to help in the kitchen before turning to face me. He gave me a brief once-over and then tilted his head sideways. “Get changed, and come over. Michael is a terrible cook, and Luke is only marginally better. If you have any skill whatsoever, we need you. Desperately.”
I chuckled, appreciating his easy manner. Not everyone could make an impromptu invitation sound like a graceful request for assistance. I was pretty sure he didn’t really need my help, but he made it difficult to refuse the offer.
“Okay,” I said with a smile. “I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”
“Wine and tacos?” Alex grimaced then shrugged his broad shoulders. I noted the way the cotton fabric hugged his muscled arms and chest. He made the simple black T-shirt look sexier than it should.
“Of course. Wine goes with everything.”
We stood staring at each other wearing matching grins. I licked my bottom lip unconsciously as my gaze dipped to his full mouth. I yearned to lean over and kiss him. I wanted to really know what he tasted like, what he felt like. The kiss at the beach had seemed like a big deal at the time, but now I knew it wasn’t nearly enough. I craved something… more.
Alex stepped into the hall and placed his right hand over my tie. He tugged at the garment, wordlessly asking me to come closer. I complied and kept my eyes trained on his. We were standing so close I noticed details I hadn’t before, like his thick, dark eyelashes and the slight cleft in his chin. I had a sudden desire to run my tongue over it. I swallowed hard then started in surprise when he reached out to trace my stubbled jaw before gently kissing my mouth. It was a tender meeting of lips, not passionate or fraught with meaning, but I couldn’t stop a moan of desire from escaping. The slightest touch and most innocent kiss made me feel light-headed and tongue-tied.
“Go on. I’ll leave the door open.”
He was gone before I could say a word.
I CHANGED from my suit to jeans and a Stanford University T-shirt before heading over to Alex’s place ten minutes later. I knew if I didn’t move quickly, I would start to think too hard and most likely talk myself out of joining him and his friends. With a hand on the doorknob, I thought of at least three reasons to stay home. One, I was exhausted. Two, it had been a long week. And three, I had no idea where the fuck my head was when it came to my sexy neighbor. But somehow, that was the most compelling reason to open the door.
“Hello?”
The earlier loud pop music had been replaced by classic jazz played at a much lower volume.
“In here.”
I turned from the foyer into the great room and found three men standing in the kitchen staring through the oven window disputing how they could tell when the chicken was done. Alex waved me over to look.
“When did you put it in the oven?” I asked, setting a bottle of wine on the granite island.
Luke glanced up at me, swiping his longish blond bangs back as they fell into his blue eyes. “Twenty minutes ago. I think.”
“What temperature?”
I was treated to a three-way blank stare.
“I think 375. Is that right, Michael? Check it.”
“Yeah. We weren’t sure. Is that too high? What do you know about baking chicken? My sister made it sound so easy, but I can’t remember the temperature, and I’m getting the idea that wasn’t such a tiny detail after all.” Michael chuckled good-naturedly.
“I thought you were sure. We could have called her or Selena or Bran earlier instead of staring at the oven wishing it would magically light up when—” Alex switched to Spanish, letting Michael know he was sure the delay was his fault, and now that everyone was starving and half drunk on tequila they’d end up having to call for a pizza.
I listened in amusement as I pulled the dish from the oven. It smelled delicious. And it looked done. I cut into the middle of one breast to be sure.
Luke gasped behind me. “I read you shouldn’t do that. Is it okay?”
“Aye yai yai! Who cares? Let him take over. If he wants to throw it against the wall to see if it’s done, let him!” Alex scowled.
“I don’t think that will be necessa
ry. These are done.”
“Hallelujah!” Alex slung his arms around my waist and kissed my cheek.
I laughed at his exuberant reaction, expecting him to back away quickly from the heat of the open oven door. He didn’t. His hands rested on my ass for a long moment. I looked down at him and felt a completely different kind of heat flood my body. If Michael and Luke hadn’t been standing nearby I swear I would have backed him against the countertop to grind my suddenly interested dick against his. The man was sex on legs. I wanted to touch him. Really touch him. Not stare at him like a lovesick puppy hoping for a small kiss. I wanted to feel his tongue slide in my mouth. I wanted to feel his bare skin. Trace his toned abs with my tong—
A coughing noise reminded me we weren’t alone. Alex squeezed my ass before dropping his hand and closing the oven door. I wondered if my cheeks were as red as they felt but wisely kept my head down and concentrated on slicing the chicken into strips while my host bustled around me. He set out plates, napkins, and silverware, humming as he worked.
“Would you like a margarita, Nate? I made a fresh batch just before you got here. I’ve got my priorities right.” Michael stood on the opposite end of the open kitchen next to a blender. He handed Luke a glass and looked up at me expectantly when I didn’t answer right away.
“I usually stick to wine, but why not?”
“That’s the spirit! You won’t be sorry.” Alex lifted his glass with a devilish grin. “Take care of him, Miguel. And don’t forget me.”
“I never do, asshole,” Michael quipped, glancing over at his old friend.
He went still for a half second and shifted a shrewd look between us. The scrutiny was almost imperceptible, but I noticed. I tore my gaze from Alex and bent my head to refocus my attention on slicing chicken. I wasn’t on solid ground, and I hated knowing my infatuation was obvious.
DINNER TOOK longer to get on the table than expected. They all pitched in, slicing vegetables for the tacos while I took care of the chicken, but they’d forgotten about the tortillas. According to Alex they had to be heated. The tequila-fueled debate about how to properly toast them so they were warm but not too crispy was initially entertaining, but when it became clear they had no clue how to do it, I took over.