Wilder, Winona - Choosing Love [Coming Out 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)

by Winona Wilder

  As class was dismissed, Mr. Hawke called out over the bustle of students packing up and exiting the room. “Mr. Matthews and Mr. Waters, I’d like to see you both for a minute after class.”

  Both of them? Why? Cal remained in his seat looking disinterested. Waylon paced the aisle like a caged lion. Cal couldn’t help but sneak glances at the man’s thick, powerful thighs and tight ass.

  Mr. Hawke closed and locked the door after the last student left. As usual, Mr. Hotness made Cal’s dick stir. The teacher returned to his desk and sat on the front of it, one leg bent up. He exuded an air of confidence and authority that was strongly masculine and, to Cal, erotic.

  “What’s going on with you two?” He looked alternatively to each of them. “I’ve given out one assignment so far, and you’re the only two students not to hand it in. Is the class too difficult? I thought it was a mindless assignment myself.”

  “Sorry, sir. I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Cal offered. He had no excuse, besides his suicidal desires and broken heart.

  Mr. Hawke tapped the desk in front of him with the tip of his shoe. “Come closer, please.”

  They both changed seats, creating a small bubble of space for conversation. Cal still kept his eyes off Waylon. He feared finding rejection or revulsion in his friend’s eyes.

  “I’ll have it to you tomorrow,” said Waylon, fidgeting to get out of the room.

  “It’s more than that. I haven’t been teaching all these years without developing a bit of perception. If either of you think you’ve gone under my radar, you’re wrong.” He stood, hands clasped behind his back as he paced the area between the two men. “I see how the two of you sneak glances at each other during class. The energy between the two of you practically sizzles. In fact, it’s distracting.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cal insisted.

  “Don’t bother getting defensive, Calvin. I wasn’t born yesterday, and you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Waylon, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “It’s obvious that the two of you have feelings for each other. If you fight those feelings, you’ll not only harm yourselves, but also your education. This is your last year, Waylon—do you want to throw it all away?”

  “Fuck you!” Waylon kicked the chair in front of him sending it scraping along the waxed floor.

  As Waylon stormed towards the exit, Mr. Hawke called after him. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay, Waylon. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on and find happiness.” The door slammed shut, making the glass in the windows rattle momentarily.

  The teacher turned to Cal with a cute smirk and a shrug. “I think that went well, don’t you?”

  Cal wasn’t in denial. He knew what he was even if he chose to hide it. He stood and closed the distance between them. “How do you know?” Did being gay have a certain look, or did Cal and Waylon really orchestrate an obvious game sneaking peeks at each other?

  “Takes one to know one, I suppose. Seeing that the two of you are known for being best friends and now can’t even look each other in the eye, I’d say something happened between the two of you.”

  Finding out that his fuck-me sexy teacher was into men made Cal’s pulse increase. If he couldn’t salvage his relationship with Waylon, maybe there was hope of finding another man. But he didn’t want any man. He wanted only one, the one he was in love with. He could still taste Waylon’s kiss when he closed his eyes. Maybe Mr. Hawke would be able to get his friend to open up, talk about his feelings. God knows Cal didn’t have the balls to approach Waylon after what they shared together. “It doesn’t matter. He wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Oh no, you’re wrong, Calvin. He’s in love with you. Guarantee it. It’s in his eyes every time he looks at you, and in his body language every time you walk by. Give him time.”

  “You’re wrong about him. I know Waylon. He’s not gay. I mean look at him!”

  “So you can’t be good-looking and like men?” He squinted his eyes, looking sexy and exotic. It was hard to stay pissed with him.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything!” Cal spun around tossing his arms in the air in defeat. He just wanted things back to the way they were—or did he?

  A hand to his shoulder startled him. “Why don’t I talk to him? I’ll invite you both over to my place, and we can hash it out. I know where you’re both coming from, so hopefully I can help.”

  Cal shook his head and laughed without humor. Waylon was hardheaded and totally in denial. “He’ll never agree to that.”

  “Let me try.”

  Chapter Four

  Practice was brutal after seeing Cal face to face. He couldn’t concentrate and succeeded in getting the shit kicked out of him by the other players. Waylon even considered quitting the team. After the night with Cal, he was forced to face reality, rather than hiding from it. Not a soul knew he was into men—not his parents or his four brothers. Rather, he hid the fact and compensated by joining every sports team available growing up and being the poster boy for hetero males. He was a fucking fool, that’s what he was.

  No matter how much he denied it, he knew the truth. And he loved Cal. All he thought about was Cal, his beautiful blue eyes, hard body—and the way his lips molded to his cock. Every time he remembered that night in the alley, he got a hard-on to rival the metal rods holding up the goal posts. It only cemented the fact that he was indeed gay. No woman turned him on the way Cal could. Sure, he appreciated a beautiful woman and a nice set of tits, but he wanted a man—strong and masculine—not a woman.

  As he walked up the hall, anxious to get home and crash, he bumped into Mr. Hawke. He apologized flatly and tried to veer around the man, but he continually blocked his path.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, finding it difficult to focus on anything.

  The teacher whispered close to him, his breath minty. “If you care about your grades…or your friend, Calvin, you’ll stop by my house tonight to talk. Twenty-six Maple. It’s just up the street from here. Be there at five.” Then he continued walking down the hall as if nothing happened, not even waiting for a reply. Waylon watched him disappear into the crowd of students. If that was a gay man, then he was a monkey’s uncle. The man exuded masculinity and raw authority. He was sexy and cute all wrapped into one fuckable package. Waylon shook his head to dismiss his thoughts. Since owning up to the truth, he’d found he was more comfortable admitting his feelings and desires to himself. What he wanted most in the world, but didn’t have the nerve to ask for, was Cal.

  * * * *

  Mr. Hawke’s bungalow had a modern flair. Black leather, the newest electronics, large flat screen—the works. It was every bachelor’s dream pad. Cal walked in, taking in his surroundings as he proceeded with caution. He had reservations about coming at all, but he knew his life couldn’t continue down the same path for much longer.

  “Nice place.” Cal hadn’t looked at Mr. Hawke for more than a moment after the man opened the door. Being alone with the guy, now dressed casually in faded blue jeans and fitted T-shirt, proved a bit too tempting. Instead, he moved around the perimeter of the large living room, glancing at photos, trophies, and art that his teacher had collected. He suddenly realized that he didn’t even know Mr. Hawke’s first name. Although it felt improper to even ask, just being in his house crossed too many barriers to fathom. He turned briefly. “Hey, I don’t even know your name.”

  “Really? It’s Evan. Evan Hawke.”

  “Nice.” He continued to stroll away from the heated male following him.

  “You’re avoiding me.” Damn, the guy’s voice was deep and rich, sliding down his spine like phantom fingertips.

  He turned, not wanting to be rude, and faced Evan. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. I can’t imagine talking about this stuff with Waylon.”

  “Only good can come from getting things out in the open.”

  “I don’t know about that. Thing
s have taken a shit dive since he found out that I was…you know.”

  Evan grabbed his wrist, pulling him down to sit on the soft leather sofa beside him. “I’m guessing your family is either against you being gay or they don’t know.”

  “I’d say against.” He had no idea. Cal had put everything on the line, hoping to God his own mother would accept the truth.

  Evan’s hand rested on Cal’s thigh, making his pulse race. He felt claustrophobic and caged, while he simultaneously experienced a strong surge of erotic desire spiking through his system. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Oh, I know all about hate. But those same people that judge you, hate you, are the same ones that say you’re an abomination to society—to God. They’re the ones hating, not you or me. Think about it. Would God be more pleased with a hetero guy running around fucking a new girl every week or a gay man in a loving, committed relationship? Society smiles on one and not the other, but you see? That’s their problem. We can’t help what we are. It doesn’t make us less of a human being born gay, does it?”

  Cal thought about what Evan said. He spoke with such conviction, and the fact that the subject was close to Cal’s heart brought his emotions to the surface. Feeling like a freak, hiding who he was, and being disowned by his family was a lot for a young man to handle. He had no one but his best friend, Waylon, and now maybe he didn’t have him, either. If he spoke now, his voice would crack, and he didn’t want to show weakness in front of another man. Cal leaned over his knees and buried his face in his palms for a moment to get a grip on his emotions. “It makes it more complicated, though.”

  “No, makes it more interesting.” Evan smirked and licked his lower lip. Cal began to see him not as a teacher or authority figure, but as a good looking man that was obviously attracted to him.

  Cal sat straight and looked at his watch. “Shit, where’s Waylon?” He stood up with a jolt, suddenly realizing the visit was all in vain. Waylon was a no-show.

  “He’ll come around. Give him more time.”

  If he hadn’t come, he wasn’t going to “come around.” Cal felt a virtual black cloud lower around him as he imagined his life without the daily interaction he needed from Waylon to sustain him. The past couple weeks had been brutally lonely.

  Cal dropped back down on the couch and ran both hands through his hair as he exhaled his disappointment. “Don’t go. Stay awhile,” Evan insisted. The man was hard to refuse. There was a calming, confident air about him that pulled down Cal’s natural guards. Or maybe it was because he didn’t have to put on an act for him since everything was in the open.

  He’d never been with a man or a woman sexually. The closest he came to intimacy in his twenty-two years was the oral sex in the alley with Waylon, but he’d been plastered at the time.

  How easy it would be to just let go and accept the attention Evan showered him with. God knows he’d been starved for love for far too long. Should he give in? Waylon wasn’t his boyfriend, but he still felt the need to be faithful as if he already belonged to the man—heart, body and soul. He just couldn’t love another man. Not yet.

  “I should leave.”

  Evan looked at him through slanted eyes. “You don’t think I’m gonna hit on you, do you? I just thought we could order some takeout—make a night of it. No sense going home feeling bad.”

  Cal could barely focus on Evan, only thinking about the many times Waylon came over to his apartment with pizza or drive-thru meals. They’d watch a game or rented movies and just bask in each other’s presence. Of course, Cal always thought he was alone in his deeper feelings for his friend, but maybe he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if Waylon liked him that way or not, but it was beginning to be clearer that the alley incident had been a mistake in his friend’s eyes.

  “I’m not worried,” Cal blurted, suddenly arriving back in the present. He was pining over a relationship that could never be. All he ever did in life was feel sorry for himself, and he needed to take a step in a new direction and change all that. A drop-dead sexy man was sitting beside him, eager for his attention. If he blew this chance with Evan, he’d be a fool. Enough with the self-destructive tendencies—watching Stephanie and Waylon together for months and hiding his true feelings. No more. “You have anything to drink?”

  * * * *

  Waylon punched his locker, the echo of metal verses fist filling the empty changing room. “Fuck!” He couldn’t show up at Mr. Hawke’s place, but what other choice did he have? Without Cal in his life, he was an empty shell. Steph was shallow and spiteful, and his friends on the football team wouldn’t bend over backwards for him when it really counted. He was sick and tired of fitting in and having friends that rode his coattails to popularity. Waylon needed Cal. The best thing in his life had been right in front of him for years, but he was so blind that he couldn’t tell that Cal might possibly feel the same way. He still wasn’t one hundred percent, and it was driving him crazy.

  Fuck, Cal was gorgeous. He could stare at him all day, and wicked thoughts continually danced in his head about the younger man. He still remembered Cal’s sweat-glistened bare chest, heaving from exertion behind the club. When he slammed the man’s solid frame against the brick wall, his primitive desires welled up to the surface, and all he could think about was fucking or getting fucked. The beautiful thing was he didn’t just want Cal’s body. He loved him.

  Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he headed out to his car. He’d accept Mr. Hawke’s help because it was time to claim what was his.

  Chapter Five

  There was a knock at the door, startling both men who reclined on the sofa together. Cal had been visiting Evan for a couple hours, had several drinks, takeout, and enjoyed some in-depth conversation. His despair had slowly lifted the longer he spoke with Evan. There was actually a light at the end of the tunnel now.

  “Just a sec. Let me get that.” Evan patted Cal’s leg as he stood to answer the door. He set his drink down on the hall table and greeted the unannounced visitor.

  “Sorry I’m late. I wasn’t gonna come but then thought better.” Waylon’s familiar voice drifted in from the entrance, forcing Cal to sit up straight. He did come. His heart felt ready to burst, and excitement flooded through his body at the possibilities.

  “Come on in.” Evan shut the door behind Waylon, providing a clear line of sight to where Cal sat on the sofa. The soft glow from the television illuminated the darkened space. He didn’t get the desired look from his friend, more like a scowl.

  “What’s he doing here?” demanded Waylon.

  “We were waiting for you,” offered Evan.

  Waylon stomped into the living room without removing his boots. He briefly scanned the room, his eyes finally flitting between the empty pizza box and Cal. Without warning, he flipped over the pizza box with a strong swat, sending it flying before whirling around to face Evan. “What the fuck is this? I don’t show, so you move in on my boyfriend?”

  “It’s not what you think,” said Cal, standing up. Evan looked unworried despite the hulking male having a jealous tantrum in his house. And did he just say boyfriend?

  “I’ve been going out of my mind for weeks, and you just move onto the next available cock at the first chance you get?”

  “We were just talking. That’s it.”

  Waylon exhaled and visibly relaxed his shoulders. When he looked at Cal with softened features, he had such an innocent, boyish quality that he fell in love with his friend all over again. “It was a mistake coming here.” With that, Waylon turned, brushed by Evan without a word, and left the house.

  As soon as the car burned rubber out of the driveway, Cal followed Waylon in his own car without so much as a goodbye for Evan. He had to talk with his friend. The truth needed to get out once and for all about everything.

  After a five-minute drive, Cal spotted Waylon’s car turn left at the next street. There was no way he could let the man get into his building or he’d never buzz him in after the fact. He had to get to him
before he hit the front doors. Cal sped down the dead-end street, parked at an odd angle, and leapt out of his car as Waylon walked the darkened path to the apartment. Out of breath and feeling both vulnerable and hyped up on adrenaline, Cal spun his friend around by the shoulder. “What the fuck?”

  “What do you want, Cal?”

  He dragged his muscle-bound friend, who didn’t put up a fight, to the dark side of the building. Once alone and hidden by shadows, Cal pressed a palm to each of Waylon’s shoulders, pinning him in place. His nervous energy gave him extra strength, and there was no way he planned to go home feeling worse than shit. This had to be hashed out now or never.

  “Do you hate me that much?” Cal shook his head, which was spinning. “You don’t talk to me for weeks, and then you go apeshit because I’m alone with Evan?”

  “I don’t hate you! And when did Mr. Hawke become Evan to you?”

  He gave Waylon’s shoulders an aggressive shove making him wince. “I’m not fucking our teacher, for God’s sake! He’s been helping me get through shit. You think it’s been easy since you decided I don’t exist?”

  With ease, Waylon pushed Cal off of him and began pacing the confined space between the two buildings. “This isn’t easy for me either, Cal. You have no idea.”

  “Just be honest with me.”

  Waylon turned and gave Cal a hard stare. The street lights beyond shadowed his face giving him a predatory look that made Cal’s cock stir. He wanted to squeeze those taut muscles, kiss those thick lips, and lick every inch of his hard body. “You want honesty? Okay.” He backed Cal up against the wall now, pressing in close. “I’m fucked up, Cal. All I can think about is that night in the alley. All I can think about is fucking you.” Waylon broke eye contact, looking up the lane. Cal could feel the man’s guilt and shame coming off in waves because he had felt the same way about his friend time and time again. But the time for guilt was over. They both felt the same way for each other.