by Marie Sexton
Matt smiled at him. “We’ll see who’s waiting for who, asshole.” He said it jokingly, and Grant and Tyson both laughed before starting out, leaving Matt and me at the trailhead.
“You ready?” he asked me.
I couldn’t even look at him. “I’m trying not to hate you right now.”
He put his hand on the back of my neck and waited until my eyes met his. “I know.” Then he leaned over and kissed me lightly. “Thank you for trusting me.”
I shook my head but let it go. I didn’t want to fight with him at all, but especially not here. “Do you want me to wait for you? And them?”
“Only if you want to.”
We finally started out. I left Matt behind me and passed Grant and Tyson within minutes. Once I was off on my own, my bad mood evaporated. I love it all too much, the mountains and the riding and the challenge of making it up the trail. The sun was shining. The temperature was in the low fifties, but the breeze had a hint of frost in it. Among the towering evergreens were patches of aspen, their white limbs bare. Sheltered patches of ground that never saw the sun had snow that wouldn’t melt until next spring. I found that I couldn’t hang on to my anger.
I turned around and rode back down to them. Matt was riding with them now.
“Hey,” he said happily as I reached them. “Is it a successful ride? Are you bleeding yet?”
I laughed. “Not yet. Are you?”
“Only Tyson, so far. We were just talking about a bet—whoever crashes the least has to buy dinner.”
I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “You’re on.”
I rode with them for a few minutes until we got to the next hard section, where I ended up ahead of them again without meaning to. The rest of the ride was like that. I’d ride ahead for a while, on my own, and then turn around and ride back down to meet them. We’d ride together for a while, but I always seemed to end up out front on my own after a while, whether I meant to or not.
“Jesus, Jared,” Tyson said once as I rode back down to them. “You’ve probably ridden twice as far as us. Aren’t you exhausted?”
“No, but I’m pretty fucking hungry. I wish you guys would hurry the hell up.” Tyson laughed. Grant just shook his head at me. Matt smiled at me like I’d had hung the fucking sun and moon, which somehow had me annoyed at him but ridiculously pleased at the same time.
Eventually, Matt left them too, and rode with me to the top. We took a short break and then headed back down. We found Grant and Tyson resting on the side of the trail. “Aren’t you guys going up?” Matt asked.
“Hell, no,” Grant said. “We’re beat.”
It was easier to stay together on the way down, and I only finished a few minutes ahead of them.
“Good ride, guys,” Matt said when they finally reached us. “Next time we’ll pick an easy trail so you pansies can keep up.”
Tyson laughed. “Looks like dinner is on Jared.”
“I crashed too,” I said. Since I’d only been with them about half the time, I wasn’t really sure who’d won the bet.
“Don’t think you can get out of it by acting humble,” Grant said. Not only was it the first time he’d spoken to me directly, but he even sounded halfway civil. “You rode circles around us all day. You’re buying.”
“Yes, he is,” Matt answered for me. “We’ll meet you at Tony’s.” And if his smile got any bigger, I thought I might have to punch him.
“Will you please quit looking so damn pleased with yourself?” I said as we drove down, although I found that I was smiling a little too.
“Eventually. Admit it—it was a good idea.”
“I guess.”
“It’s okay to admit that I’m right, you know.” He winked over at me. “Just say it. Say, ‘You’re right, Matt.’”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You really, truly are a manipulative bastard. And you might be right. That’s all you’re getting.” He laughed.
So we had dinner with Grant and Tyson. Mostly the three of them talked shop while I drank. They were still looking for Dan Snyder, but after checking with all of his relatives, they had nothing to go on. We talked about football and mountain biking a little. Tyson was friendly from the beginning, but by the end, even Grant had loosened up, and when we started to leave, he stopped me. He waited until Matt and Tyson were a few steps ahead, giving us some semblance of privacy. “Look, no hard feelings, okay?” He held his hand out, and I shook it, hoping I didn’t look as amazed as I felt.
Matt and I drove home in silence. We’d barely made it through the front door of our house when he tackled me and pinned me to the floor. It didn’t take much effort on his part, and I wondered just how good he had been at wrestling in high school.
“Oh my God, you’re heavy. Get off!”
“Say it again. I just want to hear you say it one more time.”
“You’re heavy.”
“Not that. Come on now.”
“You’re a manipulative bastard.”
“Try again.”
“Ugh. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear, you huge oaf?”
“Exactly.” He gave me that amazing smile that could still make me melt. “You should be getting used to that by now.”
“How long are you going to gloat?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” He still had me pinned, but it had turned into more of an embrace. He reached down, his hand working between us to undo my pants. He kissed my neck, and I slid my hands under his shirt, up his back. “Now what about the job?” he asked quietly, his lips soft against my skin. “Will you take it? I’m right about that too, you know.”
I sighed. I knew I’d have to face it soon, but not quite yet. Not this moment. All I wanted at this moment was him. The fumbling below had shifted, and I knew he was undoing his own pants. “I’ll think about it. Is that enough for now?”
He smiled. “For now.”
I slid his pants and briefs down over his hips. I couldn’t get them far, but they were at least out of the way. He reached into my boxers and pulled my cock out so it was lined up against his, wrapped his hand around both of us, and started to pump his hand slowly up and down.
Despite his enthusiasm for sex that first day, we’d only fucked one other time, and even then, only because I wanted it. At first I thought he was embarrassed, but then I started to realize that the act itself made him uncomfortable. When I tried to ask him about it, he simply said, “It isn’t fair to you.”
I tried to convince him that I didn’t mind bottoming every time, at least for now, but it didn’t help.
“Do you think less of me, for letting it be done to me?” I’d asked him.
“No. Not at all.” I wasn’t sure if it was true, or if he only wanted it to be true.
“Then what?”
“How can you not think less of me afterwards?”
That didn’t make any sense to me, but I didn’t push. After all, it’d barely been a month since his first sexual experience with another man. I figured whatever his hang-up was, he’d get over it in time. For now, we had other ways of pleasing each other. For whatever reason, this was what he liked best: holding our cocks together and beating us off at the same time. He said it was because he could watch me. I tried not to be self-conscious after that, but I also thought it was because he could kiss me easier. Whatever his reason, I wasn’t going to object.
I put my hand over his and urged him to pump faster. He’d developed a sort of twist at the top of each stroke that caused the heads of our cocks to rub sideways against each other, just a tiny bit, and it was fantastic. Still, he’d taken care of me the night before. For him, it’d been several days, and it was only a minute or two before his fist was slick from his own come.
He moved down then. Whatever his hang-ups about anal sex, he had none whatsoever about getting come in his mouth. I put my hands on his head while he sucked, doing my best not to push. But I couldn’t stop my hips from thrusting upward as I came. He didn’t seem to mind.
/> I was still reeling from my orgasm when he moved up and kissed me. “I hope you know,” he whispered into my ear as he nuzzled my neck, “that was only a warmup.”
Chapter 26
THE CHRISTMAS party turned out to be not as bad as I expected. A couple of the older cops pointedly ignored us, but Tyson and his wife seemed to make an effort to stand by me most of the evening, and while Grant wasn’t exactly friendly, he wasn’t a complete jerk either.
The next week, I had one last tutoring session with the kids. I had a full house, as they were all preparing for finals. Several of the parents had sent money along to cover the cost of the pizza. When the doorbell rang, Matt didn’t answer. Instead, he came into the dining room and said to me, “You better get that.”
I heard him talking to the kids but didn’t think much of it. I paid for the pizza and then stopped in the kitchen for paper plates and napkins. As soon as I stepped back into the dining room, the kids erupted into cheers. Two of the girls jumped up and threw their arms around me. One was squealing into my ear so loud, I feared I’d have permanent hearing loss. Matt ducked his head and quickly left the room. The rest of the kids were coming over now and shaking my hand or hugging me or pounding me on the back.
“What’s this about?” I asked as I tried to pry one of the girls off me.
“We just heard you’re going to be our teacher next semester!” Ringo said, and then they all started talking at once.
“It will be so great—”
“You’re the best—”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Wait. What?” Of course, Matt’s odd behavior made sense now. Talk about throwing me to the wolves. I had to wait a second for all the commotion to die down before saying, “I haven’t accepted the offer yet.”
“But you will, right?”
“We’ll see.” They all started to talk again at once. “Stop! Whether I take the job or not, you guys still have finals to study for, so get back to work.”
I found Matt in the kitchen, staring at the floor, cheeks red, looking incredibly guilty. He kept his head down but glanced up at me.
“Are you mad?”
“I should be.”
“But are you?”
I thought about it and realized that I wasn’t at all. What I felt was actually more like relief. At some point over the last week, I’d made the decision to trust his judgment, and I felt good about it. The nagging anxiety that had been eating away at me ever since that fateful meeting earlier in the month had faded to nothing more than a few frantic butterflies in my stomach. Mom’s advice about deciding how to live seemed to magically make a little more sense. And the reaction of the students—my students—had decided it for me.
“I’ll call tomorrow and accept the job.” That made him smile. “You really are a manipulative bastard. I’ve told you that before, right?”
He grabbed my shirt and pulled me over to him. “Just say it one more time.”
“You’re a manipulative bastard.”
“Not that. You know what you’re supposed to say.”
“You were right.”
He laughed. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”
A FEW days later, Cole called.
“Hey, Sweets!” he said in his lilting, flirtatious voice. “I’m back in Vail. Want some company tonight?”
“Sorry, Cole. I can’t.” Matt was on the couch reading, and his head jerked up when I said that name.
“You can’t tonight, or you can’t because of a certain tall, dark, very angry-looking police officer?”
“The latter.”
“Closet door wasn’t locked after all?”
“I guess I found the key.” Matt looked confused when I said that, and I smiled at him.
Cole was quiet for just a second, and then he said. “That’s wonderful news, Jared.” It wasn’t his usual flamboyant voice. It was his real voice, soft and quiet. “I’m really happy for you.”
Chapter 27
“I GOT the beer!” Matt called as he came in the door.
“It’s about time. You missed kick-off.” It was Sunday, eight days before Christmas. We’d been looking forward to this day for weeks, when our two favorite teams would be playing each other again.
“Anybody score yet?”
“No, but it’s only a matter of time before the Broncos pound your pathetic Chiefs into the ground.”
He laughed. “We’ll see, Jarhead. Loser buys dinner.”
It was a close game. We had a blast, harassing each other as first one team took the lead and then the other. With two seconds left, the Broncos were up by one point. The Chiefs lined up for a field goal. If they missed it, I won. If they made it, he did. It’s the folly of sports fans everywhere that we think we can affect the game from our living room. I was yelling, “Miss it! Miss it!” Matt had a white-knuckled grip on the coffee table in front of him.
The kick was good. I groaned. Matt let out a victorious whoop and turned and pounced on me from the other end of the couch. It was embarrassing how quickly he could pin me. He grabbed my face and kissed me. Not a romantic kiss, but a big, loud, triumphant smack on my lips, and then pulled back to look at me with a huge smile on his face.
“So what are you buying me for dinner?”
“A Lean Cuisine. You’re heavy!”
The phone rang, and I reached over my head to grab it off the side table behind me.
“Hello?” He hadn’t moved off me but had moved down. He had my shirt pulled up and was trying to distract me by kissing his way down my stomach.
“Matt?” a woman’s voice asked.
“No, this is Jared.”
“Jared? Do I have the wrong number? I’m trying to reach Matt Richards. He told me this was his new number.”
He’d pushed my sweats lower, and his lips brushed the top of my patch of hair. The attempt to distract me was proven successful when I said, “He’s on, hang here.” He started laughing against my stomach as I handed him the phone.
But the happy look left his face pretty fast once he started talking. I figured out right away that it was his mother. I was surprised he’d given them my number. Then again, he’d barely been to his apartment in weeks, so maybe it made sense.
He sat on the edge of the couch, shaking his head as they talked. “No, Mom, I wish you wouldn’t. We’re really busy right now. It’s just not a good time.” Oh shit. I knew by the look he was giving me that his feelings were the same. “Are you renting a car, or do you need me to pick you up?” He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The remainder of the conversation was nothing but one-word answers on his end. “Yes. Yes. Right. Okay. Bye.” He dropped the phone, and his head fell almost to the level of his knees.
“Fuck, Jared. This is bad.”
Despite his obvious distress, I found I wasn’t worried about any of it. It’d only be for a few days, and then we’d be back to normal. And lately, “normal” for us was unbelievably good. Now that we weren’t fighting anymore, everything felt perfect. Nothing could darken my mood much. So my voice was light as I asked, “They’re coming to visit?”
“Yes.”
“For Christmas?”
“Yes.”
“When do they get here?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“How long will they be here?”
“A week.”
Neither of us spoke for a minute, but finally I said, as gently as I could, “You don’t want them to know, do you?”
“I’m sorry.” It came out a whisper.
“After all that shit you gave me about being willing to face people?” But I said it teasingly. I knew what his father was like. I knew how hard it would be for him. I couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to avoid it.
“I know,” he said quietly.
“Your dad’s gonna totally ruin Christmas.” I was still teasing, trying to cheer him up.
“I know!” I was happy to hear that it seemed to be working.
“And Lizzy is going to blow a fucking gasket.”
“I know!” There was at least a hint of laughter in his voice now.
But he still hadn’t looked at me. I got down on my knees in front of him and put my hands on his shoulders. I waited for him to look up at me.
“It’s okay,” I told him.
He shook his head. “It’s not okay. I’m being a hypocrite. Why aren’t you pissed at me?”
“Because your dad’s an angry, belligerent, antagonistic asshole.”
He laughed just a little. “First time I’ve ever had reason to be happy about that.”
I rubbed the top of his head playfully. “Cheer up. It’s not so bad. It sucks that we can’t spend Christmas together. And I’ll hate not seeing you for a week. But we’ll get through this. It’ll be fine.”
Finally, he relaxed. He even smiled a little. “You’re really okay with this?”
“I promise.”
He pulled me against him tight enough to take my breath away. “Thank you.”
I kissed his cheek before pulling back so I could meet his gaze. “I assume you’re going to stay at the apartment while they’re here?” His lease wasn’t up yet, and although it sucked that he still had to pay the rent, it was definitely going to make things easier.
“I’ll have to. The motel they use is right across the street. I don’t know what to do about the phone, though. I gave them this number. But if they try to call me from the motel….”
“I’ll forward the phone to your old number.” It wasn’t like anybody ever called for me anyway.
That meant we only had two nights together before we’d be sleeping alone again for a week. “You wait here,” I told him. I went back to the bedroom and got the lube and then came back and knelt again in front of him, between his knees. He raised an eyebrow at me, half a grin on his face.
