by Hayes, Lane
Zane hesitated before answering Dean. “Dude. That was a long time ago.”
“I know but—I never told you this but…I almost did it. I was gonna surprise you. I found an apartment in San Mateo. It wasn’t as close to Stanford as I wanted but it was cheap. I figured we’d make it work. Something stopped me. I freaked out. Some days I just wished I’d taken the risk. Everything would be—”
“Dean. Stop. It’s over. We went separate ways. You have a family now.”
“I love my kids, but things are different. They live in Northern California, not so far from you. Maybe the timing was wrong then but…we’re together now,” Dean said in a huskier than normal voice.
The ensuing silence went on longer than it should have. I turned, hoping to get a glimpse of them. Zane’s back was to me. He had one hand on the helm and the other on Dean’s chest. I couldn’t tell if he was pushing him away or if I was witnessing something so catastrophic it made the prospect of changing course and setting sail for Hawaii seem like a walk in the park. I watched the scene unfold with sickening dread. Dean inched into Zane’s space then stopped before looking over at me and flashing a menacing Cheshire cat grin.
And that was when I lost it. I leaned over the railing, shaking and sweating, with tears streaming down my face as my body tried its best to be rid of something that simply wasn’t there. Whatever it was held me in a fierce grip, wiping every last bit of energy before releasing me in a sudden rush that brought me to my knees. Which was probably when I passed out.
* * *
“Hey, how you feeling, baby?”
I blinked awake and immediately squeezed my eyes shut against the glare of the gray sky. Zane sat beside me on the bench, caressing my cheek and tenderly running his fingers through my hair. I tried to smile but it took too much effort. “Meh. Is it almost over?”
“Yeah. Just lie here where I can see you. Here’s your phone.” He placed my cell on my stomach. “I couldn’t find your earbuds, so you can use mine to listen to music or an audiobook. I can lend you Moby Dick if you want.”
I huffed weakly. “No jokes. I can’t laugh without everything hurting.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Er. I had no idea you’d”—he pursed his lips unhappily before continuing—“I should have let you go.”
With a muddled brain and an aching body, his words twisted and contorted. Was he saying he had no idea I’d see his ex make a pass at him? Or that he should have let me go so they could be alone? I was a mess and in no condition to decipher anything that wasn’t crystal clear. So I secured the earbuds, scanned my playlist, and queued up my favorite Celine Dion songs before closing my eyes again.
Chapter 7
Entering San Francisco Bay from the Pacific Ocean was a majestic experience. The Golden Gate Bridge welcomed La Bella that afternoon with a thin blanket of fog and a rough current. Only the lower half of the bridge was visible as Zane made the turn from the turbulent sea into the Bay. I’d never been so happy to see my adopted home in my life. I could have wept at the sight of Alcatraz and the giant Ghirardelli sign in Fisherman’s Wharf. And I practically tripped over my feet in my haste to be the first one off the boat when we finally docked at the Tiburon Yacht Club.
We were greeted by an excited-looking Don Carrigan when Zane led me along the dock.
“Eric! This is a surprise. I didn’t know you were part of today’s crew. She’s a beauty, isn’t she? How was the trip?” he asked enthusiastically.
Don was a heavyset, white-haired gentleman who’d inherited more money than he knew what to do with. He’d invested in high-tech firms at the right time and quickly filled his already bursting bank account. He could afford to take chances with smaller companies, which had made him an ideal investor for EN Tech before we hit the ground running. Carrigan wasn’t exactly responsible for our success, however, I’d always be grateful for his early support. It sucked to be on chillier terms after Nick’s broken engagement with his daughter. Though when he reached for my elbow as I stepped off the dock, any passerby would have thought we were old friends.
“It was…rough,” I said wanly.
“I bet. That’s a challenging ride for the best of ’em. I heard the waves were six feet or taller today and that the wind couldn’t make up her mind which way she was blowing. I know, from personal experience, the worst patch is right as you leave Pillar—”
“Hi, Don.” Zane put his left arm around me and offered the other to his client, who immediately pulled him into a heartfelt embrace.
“Well done, Richards. She’s beautiful! Just beautiful. When can we take her out?”
“I’m free tomorrow, sir. We can finish the paperwork first thing in the morning and then take her for a spin,” Zane suggested. “Would you like a tour now?”
Don giggled like a child and rubbed his hands gleefully. “You bet I would.”
Zane grinned and gestured for him to make his way down the dock, telling him he’d join him shortly before turning back to me.
“Why don’t you go inside the clubhouse to wait for me? This shouldn’t take long if—”
“Hey, I just finished wiping down the deck. Did you want me to show Carrigan around?” Dean interrupted.
“No. I’ll take it from here,” Zane replied distractedly, not bothering to look at his friend.
“Uh, okay. I’ll hang out until you’re ready to go.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll see ya around.”
Dean wrinkled his brow and nudged his sunglasses on his nose. He looked puzzled but I didn’t buy it. “Is something wrong?”
Zane sighed. “No, but Eric isn’t feeling well and—”
“Why am I not surprised?” Dean gave me a thorough once-over before reaching in his pocket and clandestinely pushing something into Zane’s hand.
“What’s this?” Zane held up the rectangular piece of plastic like he’d never seen a card key to a hotel room in his life.
Dean seemed taken aback by Zane’s lack of discretion. He recovered quickly and gave him a lopsided smile. “I’ll text you later. See you—”
“No. Wait.” Zane examined the key and furrowed his brow. “You were serious back there?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Zane shook his head, obviously bewildered.
“You don’t have to say anything. We can talk later.”
“No. No, no, no. I am such a fucking idiot.” Zane pushed a hand through his hair in agitation. The sudden tension radiating from him was almost palpable. He rarely got angry so it took me a moment to realize he was about to blow a fuse. “Jesus Dean, what part of ‘I’m engaged to Eric’ didn’t you get? Did you really think we could go back? Whatever we had was over a lifetime ago.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Maybe not today but think about it. When you called me I—”
Zane whirled on him angrily. “I didn’t call you to rekindle something that’s been dead for over a decade. I didn’t lead you on. I was perfectly clear this was a job. I’m a fool for assuming this was a chance to clean an old wound too. And I’m a fucking moron for letting you anywhere near Eric. Stay the hell away from him.”
Dean’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? I don’t…I don’t get it. He’s not good enough for you, Zane. He was a loser in high school and he hasn’t changed a bit. He went out of his way to prove it today. What are you doing wasting your life with—”
Zane growled like a feral animal and wrapped his fists around Dean’s collar. He pulled him against his chest so they stood nose to nose. “Don’t say another fucking word. Don’t even say his name. Just get the fuck out of here.”
He pushed him back roughly then turned to offer me his hand. “Come on.”
* * *
Two hours later, we were finally home. It took Zane a solid thirty minutes to go over the bells and whistles on Don’s new boat. If he hadn’t promised to show him everything again tomorrow, it might have taken another hour. And of course, no real day from hell was complete wit
hout standstill traffic. I nearly wept with joy when Zane opened the door to our townhouse. A hot shower, warm PJs, and my toothbrush were calling my name. I didn’t want to think about what had happened on the dock until I was hunkered down in my favorite corner of the sofa with a cup of hot tea.
“Here you go.” Zane handed me a cup of green tea and set a plate with a toasted plain bagel on the coffee table. “Eat something too. You need fuel.”
“Thank you.”
Zane tilted his head in acknowledgment then sat on the edge of the cushion and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
He squirmed slightly and bit his bottom lip. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so uncomfortable. “So…today, huh?”
I set the tea aside and sighed heavily. “Today was brutal. Why didn’t you tell me he was your boyfriend?”
“He wasn’t.” His voice had a faraway twinge that made me nervous.
“Zane, look at me.” I waited for him to obey, noting his pained expression and haunted eyes. “He wanted to get back together or—”
“I didn’t know. I swear, I—” Zane jumped up and paced a few feet away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The commanding, heroic captain seemed to shrink before my eyes. He reminded me of the teenager he’d once been…minus the attitude. “Dean wasn’t my boyfriend. Not really. I didn’t lie to you, Er, but I may have left out details because I just didn’t think they mattered.”
“Like what?” I whispered.
“I liked him more than I wanted to and the truth I left out was that…I wished we were more than fuck buddies back then. I wanted something real with him.”
I gulped, surprised to feel so…wounded by his honesty. “Did you love him?”
“I didn’t know what that word meant back then.”
“And now?”
“Oh Eric, come on. I love you. Only you. Dean and I weren’t real. We were secrets and shadows. No one knew about us, and neither of us would ever tell a soul. That’s why we worked. I didn’t come out till I was in my twenties. I couldn’t. I don’t think it was a matter of courage. I just didn’t think it was possible. I was trapped by who others assumed I was. Does that make sense?”
I furrowed my brow. “No.”
“Teenagers are ruled by stereotypes. They travel in cliques and label what they don’t understand. I was a surfer. You were a geek. By association, you thought I was an idiot. You were shocked we ended up at the same university. Admit it.”
“Okay. That’s true, but—”
“Let me finish. You and I are from the same town, but not the same place.” He rubbed his scruffy jaw thoughtfully before continuing. “I came from nothing, Eric. Zero. I didn’t hang out at the beach to be ‘cool.’ I went ’cause it was free. My mom spent every dime she made on rent and groceries. There was nothing left over for books or tutors or music lessons or playing any sport that involved a shitload of equipment or time my mother couldn’t give. She worked her ass off to pay the bills, and she couldn’t always do it on time. I used to hear her crying in her room late at night sometimes, begging her mother for a few dollars to tide us over till she got paid. Grandma would give her a few bucks, but it usually came with a lecture about being a loser and a taker.
“If I didn’t get out of town, I had a bad feeling I’d end up just like her. So many dreams, nothing to show for it. But admitting I was bi would only fuck up everything. Not only would I end up like my mom, I’d be a social pariah too. So yeah, Dean was my lover, but we never in a million years would have used the word ‘boyfriend.’ We were friends who fucked around. That was all we could ever be to each other. Dean was in the same boat as me. His family was big on macho sports and sexist views. His dad called him a fucking pussy for not trying out for the football team. Being with him was safe because Dean was more afraid than I was. Get it?”
“I guess, but what does that have to do with now?”
“I’m just trying to remind you that I’m human, baby. You put me on a pedestal I’ll do anything to be worthy of, but I’m not the special one. You are. I never told you this but…you’re the reason I came out.”
The look in his eyes and his heartbreaking sincerity was so damn beautiful, it literally brought tears to my eyes. I willed myself to keep it together and swallow my emotions. “I am?”
“Yeah. I wanted to be like you. You thought I was the cool guy, but I knew you were the one to watch. I liked your brand of honesty. You made the hardest things seem so simple. Being in your circle of friends was an honor. It still is. You don’t care how fast I can swim or if I can catch the biggest wave or if I can sail to Timbuktu and back in record time. You like me as I am. No games, no secrets, no hiding.”
He moved back to the sofa and knelt on the floor beside me.
“What are you doing?”
“Apologizing. I’m sorry for today. I’m sorry I didn’t let you go home when you changed your mind. I’m sorry you were so sick. And I’m sorry I let him close enough to hurt you. I can’t say I would have done it differently because I stupidly thought he was an old friend who deserved a chance. But you’re my best friend. I can’t stand thinking I gave you reason to doubt me or—”
“I don’t doubt you. I love you. I—”
“Shh. I know. I love you too. I’ve loved you for a long time, Eric,” he said, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “And I only want you. Always you.”
Zane caressed my cheek and wiped the corner of my eye before pulling me into his arms and crashing his lips over mine. The spine-tingling connection was laced with familiar sensuality but underneath it was the sentiment of a million silly love songs and the greatest lines from my favorite poems. It was the promise of things we couldn’t see but knew were there and would be if we trusted each other and leaned into always.
Epilogue
“After all this time? Always.”—J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
The airport was bustling with the usual buzz of travelers heading out of town for business or pleasure. It was easy to tell which category everyone fit in. Tourists had a mellow air about them and tended to wear stretchy fabrics, comfy shoes, and sometimes Hawaiian shirts. Even when catching a flight bound for Des Moines. Business travel was another story. I was no stranger to traveling in a suit and tie with my computer and a small overnight bag. I’d become an expert in utilizing every precious moment on a plane to prepare for an impending meeting. Needless to say, today was an anomaly.
Zane and I were leaving for our honeymoon. Not only were we traveling for pleasure, we were doing so as newlyweds. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the idea that this was real. Zane Richards was my husband. Unbelievable. We’d been married for less than twenty-four hours. Perhaps the novelty would wear off eventually, but I was determined to enjoy every bit of it on a paradise island in the middle of the Pacific. We could lie in hammocks under palm trees, sipping piña coladas while we reminisced about the greatest day of our lives.
“Do we have time for another Bloody Mary?” Zane asked in a raspy voice.
“We have forty minutes before the flight boards. Do you really want one?”
“It’s not a ‘want,’ it’s a ‘need.’ I can’t believe I’m flying all day while nursing a hangover. I didn’t think I drank that much last night. Come on. I’ll carry your bag,” he said, hiking his carry-on over his shoulder then hefting mine from the chair next to me.
I followed him to the contemporary-style bar a short walk from our gate. Sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the runways and reflected off every shiny surface. I took a seat at a high table near the window while Zane waited for our cocktails and pulled out my cell to check the time again. And since it was out, I figured I might as well check out a few of the photos from our wedding yesterday.
It was everything I’d wanted. The October day was crisp but clear and lovely, the ceremony was classy, heartfelt, and beautiful; and the recept
ion directly afterward at the yacht club was a rocking party. Maybe a little too rockin’, I mused as Zane skirted a pile of suitcases before setting our drinks on the table. He fished his sunglasses from his carry-on then sat back and took a healthy swig of his Bloody Mary. Poor guy was wrecked.
“Do you want some Advil?”
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s been a crazy few days, weeks, months. I need this vacation,” he sighed.
“It’s a honeymoon, not a vacation,” I corrected, stirring the celery in my glass before taking a sip.
Zane grinned mischievously. “True. What kinds of things do you have planned for us?”
“What makes you think I planned anything?”
“I know you. You don’t wing holidays. You plan shit. Let me guess…paragliding, windsurfing, deep sea diving. Am I hot or cold?”
“Cold. How about romantic walks on the beach, snorkeling hand-in-hand in turquoise water, and a lot of sex?”
He scratched his light beard as though contemplating my ideas. “I like it. Especially that last one. And you said skinny dipping, right? I’m all for that, Mr. Richards.”
“Ha. Ha. Did you see the pictures Josh took with my phone last night?” I pushed my cell across the table, nudging his knee as I leaned in to point to a funny one of me smashing a forkful of cake across his cheek.
“That was hilarious,” he huffed sarcastically. “I thought we made a pact not to do stupid wedding things like smear cake in your husband’s hair.”
“My bad.” I chuckled, shuffling through a few more photos of us throughout our day.
Josh replicated some of the shots our professional photographer took of Zane and I holding hands while the minister spoke and another of when she declared us husband and husband. There were dozens more of us with our friends and family. These photos would surely provide hours worth of entertainment over the next week or so, keeping the memory of the greatest day of my life in the forefront of my mind. I paused at a funny picture of Zane flashing a goofy grin at the camera as he spun me around the dance floor.