Loving Layne

by V. L. Locey

  “Who would have guessed newsprint was such an aphrodisiac?” he teased as I crawled back over him, easing my aching dick into his hipbone where I rode him until I blew another wad all over the inside of my underwear, his mouth cutting off the hot cries of passion tumbling out of me.

  “I think I threw out my back,” I coughed as another spasm racked me.

  Layne rubbed my back until the cramp eased up, and then hoisted me up into his arms and into the shower. There we kissed and washed up and kissed a bit more. Finally, around ten, dressed in the same clothes I had on last night minus my underwear, we enjoyed a rich breakfast in his suite, cuddled up on the couch, reading the Post and commenting on the various stories, the styles, and the political ramifications of various policies and worldwide events. The man was so intelligent, so sharp and up-to-date, that I was having trouble reconciling my bigoted views of jocks with this brilliant, sexy man. Never again would I judge a person so quickly. And here I thought I’d been so damn woke.

  After that late breakfast, we decided to do a bit more sightseeing, but I was not about to go out without some underwear. I led Layne to my room then paused just shy of sweeping in with him on my arm. Key card by the lock, I turned to find him watching me.

  “Maybe I should go in alone. He’s working through something traumatic, and I don’t want to add to his upset,” I said.

  “Of course. I’ll just go wait down there by the ice room and reserve our tickets for the cruise.”

  “Thanks. I’ll just be a few minutes.” He gave me a soft peck on the cheek before ambling down the hall to drop his hefty frame into a small settee. Phone in his hand, I returned to the lock, swiped my card, and walked right into a heated family argument.

  “…bullshit is what it is, Mom! No, don’t try to make excuses for the piece of shit. He walked off and left us. What kind of bastard does that?” Dillon whirled around, spied me, and faltered a bit in his tirade. The room was a disaster. Papers everywhere, empty soda and energy drink cans strewn from door to window, and dirty dishes from room service meals were piled on the floor by the desk. Dillon looked like he hadn’t slept in days. My concern for him exploded. He paced past me, slamming into the bedroom where he yelled at his mother for another five minutes while I cleaned up the room.Finally, the shouting stopped. I waited for him to come out, but he never did.

  After ten more minutes, I knocked on the door that separated the two lavish rooms. “Dillon, hey, you okay in there?”

  “Go away, Roman. I need to get it memorized.”

  My worry increased. “Get what memorized?”

  “The news. The announcement. Go back to your new friend. Leave me alone.”

  I placed my ear on the door. “Dillon, why don’t you come out with me and him? Get out of this room for a bit. Maybe we can talk about what’s bothering you. I’d love to help.”

  The lock clicked. The door opened. I smiled at Dillon. He flung my JYEP duffel into my face. I grabbed it and the door clicked shut.

  “Take your clothes and go be with your boyfriend. Seriously, everything will be done and out tonight, I just need you to fuck off!”

  Duffel in hand, I stared at the door. “Promise me you’re not thinking of doing anything stupid.”

  A moment passed with only the heater making noise. Well, that and my thumping heart.

  “I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I just…this is big, and I need to be ready. Enjoy the day with your new guy. We’re going to leave tonight. Be ready to go.”

  Tonight? “Wait. What? Tonight? Why tonight? We’ll still be charged for the room even if we leave before checkout tomorrow.” I jiggled the doorknob, but it was locked tightly. “Dillon. Come on. Talk to me!” I slapped the door with the palm of my hand. “Why are you doing all of this?”

  “I promise everything will come out tonight. Now go, let me get things finalized.”

  “If I come back here and you’re dead I swear on my Grandpa Frank’s hat I will kill you.”

  That made him laugh. “I won’t be dead. I promise. If I am dead you can call me back via that goofy aunt of yours that thinks she can call forth the spirits of dead dogs and berate me.”

  Ugh. Aunt Muriel. Yeah, she was goofy all right. “You know that being berated by a Jew is the worst kind of berating out there, right?”

  “So your mother tells me. Go…have fun. Meet me in the Atlantis Room at seven sharp and this will all make sense,” he said through the door.

  I studied the hinges for several long seconds then slowly eased back. “I’m going to text you every fifteen minutes, and God forbid if you don’t reply.” I heard him snigger. “I mean it.”

  “I know you do. Go…have a good time with this great guy of yours. Leave me be for a little longer then I swear on my grandma’s grave, I’ll explain everything to you on the way home.”

  I left then. What else was there to do? I texted Dillon every fifteen minutes as I’d vowed I would and every time he hit me right back. I asked him several times to come out and join us. He flatly refused every time. I prodded him about what was going on. He shut me down. When the sightseeing cruise of Lake Michigan was almost over, I mentioned to Layne how worried I was about my friend.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t even be out here with you.” I sighed as we sailed slowly back to Navy Pier, the huge Centennial Ferris Wheel packed with tourists much braver than me. “Maybe I should be with him. He’s just so down, so angry. This whole trip has been such a confusing mess!”

  “We can go back to the hotel as soon as we dock,” Layne offered, his arm resting on my shoulder. “I’m sorry if I’m adding to the upset with your friend.”

  “No, no, you’re absolutely the best part of this whole insane thing.” I went to my toes for a quick kiss, and I resigned myself to enjoying the Chicago skyline. No one even blinked at two men cuddling in the corner of the warm cabin. “I just wish he’d tell me what was going on. I don’t handle subterfuge well. I hate surprises. I need to know everything all the time.”

  Layne’s soft laugh eased the angst—a little. I closed my eyes, buried my face into the front of his coat, and held him close. The slow roll of the boat moving through the choppy water gently swayed us back and forth. He wrapped big, thick arms around me, and I sighed.

  “I’ll keep all that in mind. No surprise parties for Roman.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled into soft wool.

  “You know, there are times that we just cannot force people to move at our desired speed.” His hand moved over my back. I snuggled in closer. “Your friend seems to be dealing with something monumental, and he’s going to need you to understand that when he’s ready to divulge whatever it is that brought you two to Chicago. All you can do is be there for him afterward.”

  “I know,” I whined, wishing we could just cruise up and down the water forever. “It’s just hard for me to sit back and not investigate. It’s what I do!”

  “Yes, I’m aware. You only have a short time left. He said he’d tell you tonight, right?” I nodded, nose rubbing on his lapel. “Then you only have a few hours left. For one, no matter what it is that brought you to this town on this particular weekend, I thank God for it. I’ve not fallen this fast this deeply in a long, long time, and it feels pretty damn good.”

  I pulled back, just an inch, to look up at him. Ah those eyes. I got lost in them, in the warmth and affection that swirled in the deep sapphire.

  “Yeah, it does feel really good.” I rose to tiptoes for a taste of his mouth. His lips moved over mine as the ship rocked and bumped into the pier. We strolled down the wide gangplank hand-in-hand, eager to keep the tactile happening as often and as long as possible. I’d not passed along that bit of bad news about Dillon planning on leaving tonight. I was somewhat certain that I could talk him out of bolting home when the room had been paid for until noon the next day.

  Even if we stuck it out until Saturday, tonight would be our last night together. My rational mind knew that this was a fling, one of those short-liv
ed romances that you thought about now and again as you grew older. Perhaps you wondered what had happened to the person but most likely you just had filmy recollections of the hot parts until those too withered with time. Ugh. I was growing sullen and sad. Wiping that gloom away, I clung to Layne’s arm tightly as we entered The Windward Way.

  “I have to get changed,” he told me as we rode up to our rooms. “I wish we could have this whole night just for ourselves but…” He shrugged.

  “No, no, it’s fine. This will be fun.”

  “Just know that while I might be taking someone else out to dinner tomorrow night, it will be you that I’m taking to my room tonight.”

  Okay…that kind of line will work every damn time. I flung myself at him, sticking to him like a burdock, and kissed the man with every ounce of desire I had for him. When the door slid open, we broke apart, our breaths ragged and lips swollen, and stared at each other. The door began to shut. Layne threw a hand up to stop it.

  “I’ll see you after the auction,” he said, and I bobbed my head, my lips tingling as I gave him a shy sort of smile. When the door slid open, we broke apart, our breaths ragged and lips swollen, and stared at each other. With my eyes locked on Layne, I began to walk backward and stepped out of the elevator. As the door began to shut, he threw a hand up to stop it. He winked and released the door. I may have done a little swirl there in the corridor. Just a small one. Barely a twirl at all, more like a short spin. Whatever it was it sent my hat flying, and I had to run down the hall to catch it. Slipping into our room, I braced myself for bedlam or curses or vitriol. Instead, I found everything in its place. No dirty dishes, no papers balled up by the trash, no food wrappers, pizza boxes, or empty cans or bottles.

  “Dillon?” I called softly, running my fingers over the tidy little desk. The suite was silent. I entered the bedroom. Both beds were freshly made, not as neatly as they would have been had room service changed them but pulled up and tidied. My bag sat on the foot of my bed, open, as if Dillon were trying to tell me to gather up my stuff and be ready. His bag was gone, as was every last trace of him. A mild sort of freak-out broke free inside my chest. I ran to the bathroom and that was cleaned up as well. All the damp towels in the corner were now hung over the door and shower rod. No signs of use at all really aside from the damp white towels all over.

  I dashed back to the bedroom, eyed my bag, and then rebelled. No. Fuck that. I was not barreling out of here into the dark of night. No. I was going to stay here for another night with Layne and Dillon be damned. Then I remembered that Dillon was my way back to Trenton. I cursed long and loud, grabbed my bag, and stormed out of the room. A black thundercloud hung over my head as I rode down to the lobby texting the living shit out of Dillon. I exploded out of the elevator, bouncing off an older man who was talking to some other guy. He threw me a glower.

  “Sorry, excuse me.” I pulled my hat forward a bit to hide my shame then began a systematic search of every room, nook, cranny, and bathroom on the ground floor. No Dillon. I sat down on a small hassock, confused and worried, my bag on my shoulder. It was then I heard the sound of muffled applause and looked up. Several women rushed past, high heels not slowing them down in the least, and pushed into the doors of the Atlantis room. Shit. The auction.

  I got to my feet and made a beeline for the bachelor auction. Once inside, I had to take a moment to let my mind accept the sheer madness that I was seeing. There were so many women and men here, of all ages, shapes, sizes, and skin tones. All waving paddles with numbers on them as some big guy with red hair made his pass down the catwalk. The tables that had been arranged so neatly around the catwalk were empty aside from one of the players…that Garrett guy who Layne had introduced me to. He looked shaken, his skin white as the tablecloths, his fingers gripping his cell so tightly I feared it would snap in half. He was staring at the centerpiece, a flowery arrangement of white, gold, and rainbow-tinted flowers, lost in a daze.

  I was halfway to him to ask if he were okay when I spied Dillon making his way to the backstage area. He’d pulled on a purple Jersey Jackals jersey. I didn’t know the numbers of the players on that team. Hell, I only knew one Jackal and that was Layne, but he’d not shared his jersey number with me when I’d been sucking his dick.

  Maybe he knew one of the other Jackals? Were there other Jersey players here? Fuck if I knew, but I blew past that Garrett guy, my eyes locked on that deep purple jersey until I lost it in the shadows offstage.

  As I snuck around the edge of the stage, the emcee called out another name. The crowd cheered as that player’s face lit up the screen over the stage. It wasn’t Layne so I skipped and danced around hockey players and event coordinators, scanning the hustling backstage area until I spied Layne. And Dillon. I jumped up and down to see, pushing gently around some behemoth in a tuxedo, a bachelor bid no doubt, to witness Dillon give Layne a shove that set him back on his heels.

  What the ever-loving hell?

  I juked around the big guy glowering at me and ran full speed at Dillon getting into Layne’s face. Several other people were watching too, most of them either massive athletes or security personnel. Neither group seemed happy to see my friend pushing around my…Layne.

  “Dillon!” I bellowed as I skidded up to them, sliding myself in between Dillon and Layne. “What the shit, man?” I shouted just as my friend took a swing. The punch flew wide, skimming over my head. My hat went flying. Layne, by the sounds, took umbrage to this stranger trying to hit me and stepped up in a big way. I managed to get a hand on both of them, pushing on their chests, and that was when security and three beefy hockey stars joined in the fracas.

  Things got a little hinky for a few minutes. There was lots of shouting, mostly from Dillon, some dire warnings from the security team, and a great deal of tugging and pulling on my part, also mostly on Dillon. Layne, thankfully, had calmed down once he realized that the fist thrown at me was really intended for him. That discovery came when Dillon, wrapped in my arms, screamed something along the lines of, “You miserable pile of shit! I swear the next time I get a chance I’m going to clean your clock for walking out on my mother when she was pregnant!”

  Honest to Abraham, you could have heard a pin drop. Thankfully music blared to life out on the stage as a new bachelor came up for bid. The shouts of three hundred people admiring a handsome hockey player combined with some sort of funky intro song helped to drown out the accusation. At least out front. Back here everyone had heard it. I gaped at Dillon. Layne gaped at Dillon. Every man, woman, and child backstage gaped at Dillon.

  “I never…” Layne stammered, all the anger falling from his face.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me. She told me you did!” Dillon yelled over my shoulder.

  “Okay, let’s take this somewhere private,” someone said, it was one of the other players. I was too stunned to put names to faces, which is pretty damn stunned. We were escorted to a small room where several players were changing clothes. They were hustled out, and the door closed on the three of us. I maintained a hold on my friend, leading him across the room and shoving him down to a plush wingback chair. I gave his shoulder a sharp squeeze.

  “Do not make me Vulcan nerve pinch you,” I warned, my threat rather reedy and weak. Dillon huffed and knocked my hand aside. I heard Layne’s low growl. As much as I loved that Layne was being protective, maybe now wasn’t the best time. I looked over my shoulder and gave Layne a firm shake of my head. He dropped down into a folding chair, knocking someone’s dress shirt and pants to the floor, the hangers clattering into the metal leg of the chair as they fell. “Now what the hell is going on? Is this the big announcement you had to make?”

  “I wanted to do it when he was on the stage but once I saw his face, I had to tell him the truth!” Dillon seethed. His anger barely contained. I held tightly to his shoulder, ready to drop his ass to the floor just like Spock if need be. “He walked away on my mother when she was fifteen and pregnant!”

  “I never di
d that. Ever, I’m not sure where you’ve gotten your information kid but whoever told you that is a liar,” Layne barked. Dillon flew to his feet. I shoved and nerve pinched him back down to his chair as he called Layne vile, filthy names. “Dillon, I don’t even know who your mother is!”

  “Fucking liar. You know who she is! You’re just…let go of my fucking shoulder, Roman!” He slapped my hand away again. I grabbed his neck with both hands, my eyes locked on Layne across the room. “That summer when you billeted with the Boyne’s you dated Katie North…you remember her?”

  I watched the light of recognition dawn in Layne’s blue eyes, and I knew, right then and there, that this farfetched story had just become a lot more substantial.

  “Katie North, yes, we dated.” Layne’s tension left him in a massive tsunami that I felt washing over me. “But we only dated for a month or two and when I left to go home, she wasn’t pregnant.”

  “Yeah, she was, and she called your house and told your mother and you never called back!” Dillon stood and I shoved him back down, my gaze locked on Layne as more and more of this story unwound like a spool of rusted barbed wire snaring all three of us tightly. “She and I lived like fucking beggars, and you’re living the fucking high life making millions!”

  “No, no, she never called me,” Layne murmured, his shoulders sagging lower and lower as the story gained more merit. “She never called, Roman.”

  “Roman has nothing to do with this, you talk to me, you motherfucker!” Again, my friend rose and again, I pushed him back down.

  “Sorry, I just…” Layne began and then faltered.

  “Layne is the man I’ve been seeing the past few days,” I whispered, my grip on Dillon tightening as the words ferreted their way through the red haze of his rage. I knew exactly when Dillon absorbed that little nugget because his gaze flew from Layne to me. “I didn’t know he was your…”

  I couldn’t say it. Suddenly, my high moral ground grew a little shaky. I let go of Dillon, my hands dropping to my sides, my sight flickering between the two of them. Christ alive, how had I not seen it? They looked so similar. The dark hair, the cobalt blue eyes, the same jaw and nose, the set of the eyebrows.