by Riley Hart
My phone vibrates against my thigh. I pull it out of my pocket. I have my favorite tight, gray swimming shorts on beneath them for luck.
It doesn’t surprise me to see my brother Malcolm’s name on the screen. I’m pretty sure I’ll hear from Martin, the youngest Waller boy, at some point as well. My gut twists into a knot that I honestly could do without right now. The last thing I need is to stress myself out even more.
Running my finger across the screen, I read Malcolm’s text: I’m sorry.
I close my eyes and think about the family getting together to celebrate Mom’s birthday. They’ll go to lunch, or maybe have a houseful of Mom and Dad’s friends over, who they’ll talk badly about afterward. It’s such a fucked-up situation, the way they treat other people and look down on them, yet feel like something is wrong with me. There’s not. I know there’s not, so fuck them if they can’t see that.
Don’t be. I’m sure I’ll have more fun today than you will, I reply.
What are you doing?
Malcolm and Martin don’t know I’m meeting with an investor. There isn’t a doubt in my mind my brothers will try to give me the money to get my own space, but I don’t want it because even though they both have their own careers, their money is still attached to Mom and Malcolm Senior. It paid for their college educations. They each got inheritances at twenty-three. Everything I have, I earned for myself.
Pool party, I tell him, which isn’t a lie, then I shove my phone into my pocket, and damned if someone isn’t at my door.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mumble. I have an hour until I have to meet with Steven, and apparently no one will leave me alone before then.
When the door pushes open, I know who it is. I fall to the couch, force my legs to chill out, and say, “What do you want, Cody?”
He lives in the unit next door to me and is the only person at Metropolis I can honestly say is a good friend. Everyone is fun, nice to say hi to in the hallway or party with at Flirt, but Cody is different. The motherfucker forced his way into my life, and I haven’t been able to get him out since.
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” I lie.
“Would you tell me if you were?”
See? The bastard knows me too well. “Of course. You know I tell you everything. I can’t wait to see you so I can give you a rundown on my day-to-day life.”
He pushes a hand through the red waves on the top of his head and sits next to me. “One, you’re a liar because two, you didn’t tell me you fucked George from South Tower.”
Ha! I’m not the only one who fucked up his name. “Gary. And I didn’t fuck him. I fucked Jacob—are people saying I fucked Gary?”
“Do you know where we live and the places we frequent?” Cody asks, and I drop my head against the back of the couch.
“Damn it.” Not that I give a shit what people say about me, but I believe Gary might.
“I heard it at the gym. Some guy named Peter was there. I don’t know him, but I’ve heard about him, and I’ve seen him around. Apparently he’s Gary’s ex, and he was sort of losing his mind over the fact that you and Gary slept together.”
“Fuck him.” I roll my eyes. “He cheated on Gary with Evan for years, and then moved in with him. He doesn’t get to say shit about who Gary gets down with. Evan’s probably nearing his expiration date, so he’s jealous Gary’s getting new dick.”
“Because everyone wants you,” Cody teases me.
I nudge his arm. “Of course.” My nerves hit me again, and I let out a deep breath. “I can’t deal with this shit right now. I hate gossip.”
Cody drops his head to my shoulder. “You know…it would be okay if you were nervous, T.”
I shrug, moving his head. “But I’m not. I’ll be fine. If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen.” Please fucking happen.
“Mr. Macho gay man who doesn’t talk about his feelings. That’s why you have all the boys begging for your cock. Sexy, slightly brooding but also sarcastic and outgoing. You’re like the trifecta. Good thing I’m immune to you.”
Even though I try to fight it, a smile pulls at my lips. “You said four qualities, not three, and you even missed a few: muscular, vers, and the ability to deep throat like a fucking champ.”
“Oh, God. I remember. That’s the only thing I hate about being your friend.”
Cody and I hooked up once a few months after he’d moved in next door. It was fun. I try not to deny myself things I’ll enjoy. I spent too many years doing that, too many years denying myself or hiding who I was or what I wanted. But with Cody, it had been awkward the next day. That’s when I realized that somehow in the months leading up to the hookup, we’d become good friends, and there was no attraction. Don’t get me wrong, Cody is fucking beautiful—soft features, all sinewy and flexible, with killer blue eyes he knows how to use to his advantage. But the physical attraction for him just isn’t there.
“You need to go. I’m going to finish getting ready, and then head to my meeting.” Where I’ll find out if Steven thinks I’m worthy of investing in.
“Okay. I can take a hint. Good luck.”
“Are you going?” I ask him. Steven and I are meeting up before the Second Chances fundraiser, where quite a few people from our community will be. He shakes his head, blows me a kiss, and then walks out.
***
A good pool party is pretty high on my list of favorite things. Music, drinks, men showing a lot of skin. What’s not to love? Meeting with someone who has the ability to help you change your life and realizing it’s not going well, puts a pretty big damper on things.
There isn’t a part of me that thinks Steven is impressed.
He’s a nice man—looks to be about in his fifties, attractive with graying hair at his temples. He has the whole daddy, silver fox thing down well.
I discovered he’s been with his partner since he was twenty. He worked his way through college on his own, same as me, only he started at eighteen. He didn’t start one degree and suddenly change his mind and drop out—take a couple of years off, which is what it looks like I did. What it doesn’t tell him is that I’d gone to school for years for what my mom and dad wanted. That once I wasn’t their perfect son anymore, I had to figure out who I was, which included some time off, yeah, but that was because of finances. I’d had to put money away before I started my training to be a massage therapist.
But what I refuse to do is use my past and the shitty things that have happened to me to secure this deal. I want to earn this because he thinks I’m qualified, not out of pity.
“So, you’ve said you’ve only been practicing massage for about a year and a half?” Steven asks. People are swimming and dancing and talking all around us. Might as well call this meeting a wash now and join them.
“Yes, sir.”
“Steven. Call me Steven.”
Fuck. I forgot he’d told me that already. “Yeah. I worked at a shop for about a year, and then I went out on my own.” Translation—I don’t always work well with others. “It’s been six months, and I’m doing well. I have a steady clientele. I have an eighty-five percent return customer rate.”
I wring my hands together, waiting for him to reply.
“Considering how many clients you said you’re averaging per week, that’s an impressive rate. Very promising.” Steven pushes to his feet. “Walk with me for a second.”
Fuck. This isn’t going well.
I stand and head his way. Steven crosses his arms. My eyes scan the crowd, and that’s when I see him—Gary, standing off to the side by himself. He’s wearing a red speedo that I’m pretty sure he’s not comfortable in if the way he’s trying to hide against the wall says anything. He has no reason to worry. He really is fucking cute, in a quiet Gary way.
“I like you, Travis.” Steven’s words pull me out of my thoughts of Gary before he continues. “I do, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little nervous. I’m where I am in my life because I take my business seriously. T
his is a lot of money, and I have a few concerns. Looking at your experience, you haven’t done anything long-term. What happens to me if you decide this isn’t what you want?”
“I won’t,” I tell him. We stop moving and I face him, attempting to plead with my eyes. I’m not good at asking for help, at asking for anything, so I try to do it the only way I know how. “There’s nothing I can say to prove how I feel. I get that. And I know this is your money, and you have to make the best decision for yourself, but I believe I’m that. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I love what I do. It’s the only thing in my life I’ve ever wanted, and I’m good at it. I’m good with people. On paper, I know I don’t look like an ideal candidate. All I have is my word and my future actions that can prove it. I work hard. I’m honest, I’m loyal, and I know what I’m doing. If I wasn’t sure this would be a good deal for both of us, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“I’m not saying no,” he tells me, and I finally feel like I can breathe. “I’m saying, I need a little more incentive. I need a little more time to make sure this is a good deal for both of us.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way. If you jumped in headfirst, I’d have reservations of my own.”
Steven smiles, showing me that was the right response. “Come on. Let’s enjoy this fundraiser a little bit.”
“Let’s do it.” I’m not sure why, but my eyes find Gary again. When I follow his intense stare, I see Peter and Evan on the receiving end of it, and I feel bad for the guy. He hasn’t seemed to learn that most of the time, people let you down.
5
Gary
I’m so fucking old.
Twenty-six isn’t old, but compared to twenty-two-year-old Evan, who looks like he could be in college, I’m basically ninety. I never had a chance competing with that. Peter’s thirty-eight, and he’s always had a thing for younger guys. Guess that’s why I attracted him when I was twenty-one and fresh out of college.
I try to stop looking Peter and Evan’s way. I don’t want either of them knowing I still give a damn, but I can’t help it. Even worse, Robyn’s playing. I guess the universe knows I’m in the corner, watching Peter kiss him…oh-oh-oh. I figured Derek would offer me some sort of protection in all this, but he threw himself to a pack of bears right before my dickhead ex and his child-lover arrived. In an emerald-green speedo, Derek flaunts his twink body as he backs his ass up to the biggest bear of them all, who has a gray beard and a chest full of matching curly hair. Derek’s abs shift about as he dances, his bangs flipping side to side with his movements. He knows how good he looks. Every time there’s a costume or pool party, he picks out the skimpiest outfits that will be as revealing as possible. “Gotta show off the goods,” he always says.
Derek can jump into every situation with any group of people and act confident. I’m not like that unless I get a good bit of liquor in me. Even then, I’m still reserved. This vodka Red Bull will help, but I figure it’ll be another thirty minutes before I’m comfortable in this tight speedo that leaves me feeling like I did when I was bare-ass naked at the gym yesterday. Once again, I’m trying to act confident, but my discomfort must be easy to read.
With Peter being on so many boards, I’m no stranger to events like these, where I have to strut around in the tiniest speedo possible to fit in with everyone else’s outfits, but I’ve never gotten used to dressing like this in public. I don’t like feeling exposed. Vulnerable. And when Peter and Evan walked through the back door of the mansion-of-a-house hosting this event, I felt even more vulnerable.
I remind myself to breathe but also to suck in my stomach like Derek kept telling me to do before he wandered off.
“Hey, Gary,” I hear someone say beside me.
When I turn, I’m relieved to see it’s my friend Hayden. He looks incredible in a white speedo with light-blue polka dots. He wears a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses. Between those and the six-pack abs, he’s got the hot nerd look down. We’ve never hooked up. We met while I was with Peter, who’s friends with Hayden’s boyfriend. Hayden and I are the guys who chat and dance while our men work the room, pretending to enjoy conversations with people they’ll talk smack about the moment we leave the bar.
I search around for Hayden’s boyfriend, Lance, the sociable one of the two—the one everyone loves to be around because he has this power to make someone feel like they’re the most important person in the world when they talk to him. Hayden’s the same way, but much quieter about it. And unlike Lance, when Hayden listens to you, he genuinely cares—isn’t pretending to care so that he can get people’s attention.
“How’s it going?” I ask as we hug.
“Pretty good,” Hayden says. “We’ve been working on renovations on our place over at Viewpoint.”
He talks about the changes they’re making and how stressful it’s been working with contractors before I notice something within my periphery.
In a gray box-cut swimsuit, the hottie I woke up with yesterday morning—Travis—chats with a small group of equally hot studs. He laughs and pats the ass of one of the guys beside him. Another young guy in front of him backs his ass up against Travis’s pelvis and gyrates it about. Travis grabs the guy’s hips and pulls him close, whispering something in his ear that makes the guy chuckle.
I blush.
I could never do something like that. There’s a good foot between me and Hayden, and the closest I’d ever get to him or Derek…or any guy I wasn’t with…would be for a hug.
I envy guys like Travis. How can he be so at ease in public? So comfortable about who he is? I’ve spent my life trying to hide that from everyone. He’s not even like that here. He’s so comfortable about being sexual. I can’t help but wonder: if I’d tried something in the bedroom, would he have gone for it? If I’d been as forward as Derek had wanted me to be, would he have rolled with it?
Not that I would have had the balls to do that…not with a guy that hot. But he seems more like the kind who—had I done something wild…something so not me—would have thrown me on the bed and had his way with me.
Travis laughs with the guy who shook his ass against him. Travis now has both arms wrapped around him. His gaze shifts to me.
Fuck. Caught. Bail.
I turn back to Hayden.
“So, I was hoping to stick it in the back,” he says.
I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about, but now I’m imagining Travis’s dick in my ass, and I realize my dick has been growing this whole time.
Fuck me to hell.
I turn so my hard-on is facing the wall beside me. Hayden doesn’t seem to notice, and I’m hoping no one else will catch on.
“That sounds good, right?” Hayden asks me. “Just put the shoe rack in the back of the closet?”
“Yeah. Sounds great.”
“Hey, stranger,” a voice comes from beside me.
I tense up.
Hayden eyes me uneasily before I turn and see Peter approaching with Evan at his side.
For once, my anxiety around them works in my favor because it doesn’t take my dick long to recover from what thinking about Travis did to it. I wait for it to settle before I turn the rest of my body toward the lying cheat.
I can understand Peter coming over, but with Evan? Evan can fucking go find a buddy to chat with. I don’t need to be ambushed right now.
I search for Derek, who’s still busy entertaining the bears. Fortunately, as I look to Hayden, a wink assures me he’s got my back. I move close to him, shifting my body to face off with Bastard and Bastard’s Lover.
“Glad you made it out today, Gary,” Peter says, offering a smile.
I can tell he’s shaved his chest and torso for the event. The longest he ever lets the grays grow out on his chest is a half inch or so. He usually cuts it the night before events like this. His jet-black hair is, like so much of our relationship was, a lie. I used to help him dye the spots he couldn’t see in the back of his head. Guess that’s Evan’s job now.
> Evan’s about my size but blond with gorgeous hazel eyes. He’s shorter than me and a lot prettier. His smile, filled with perfect teeth that must’ve cost someone a fortune, reminds me of his modeling past—something Derek and I learned when we Facebook-stalked him after I discovered Peter’s betrayal.
I never stood a chance against this guy.
“Derek wasn’t going to miss this for the world,” I say, stressing that my reason for being here had nothing to do with him.
“How you been?” I can tell by the way Peter asks that he’s reaching for something. It’s the way he’d talk to me if he wanted me to tell him why I was having a hard day at work.
Why do you think I’m having a bad day, asshole? You think that having to confront my ex and his new guy is easy for me?
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, hoping the shorter I am with him, the sooner they’ll leave me alone.
He studies me, and I worry he’s sensing my uneasiness. Then he asks Hayden, “How’s the new place working out for you guys?”
Hayden launches into his spiel about his and Lance’s place. He doesn’t go into great detail. He talks to Peter the way he would if some stranger was asking about the same thing. But he still manages to drag it out like he’s working to keep Peter’s attention off me, which I appreciate. After a few minutes, Hayden starts chatting Evan up.
“I’m a little concerned about you, kiddo,” Peter mutters.
Kiddo? That’s his pet name for me. I never liked it, but now I really don’t like it.
“Why are you concerned?” I ask.
“You know, people talk.”
“Are there rumors about me that don’t involve you and Evan?”
He looks slightly shocked by my confrontational response.
“Gary, I know you’re still hurt about what happened, but you don’t have to act out.”
“How am I acting out?”