“Ah, good old Johnny Cash. Can’t go wrong,” Dante said, turning with a grin. “You’re not supposed to be in here. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa, this will be about five or ten minutes.”
“I feel like I should be doing something to help, since I’m here early.”
“Really, I’ve got it.”
I hung there, feeling awkward, not really wanting to just go through and sit and listen to the music while he worked. After a moment, he sighed and glared, clearly actually annoyed rather than acting.
“Look, if you really must do something, grab some cutlery from that drawer and a couple of place mats from the cupboard over there, and set us places at the table out on the balcony. I might not have quite as nice a place as you, but the view from here is worth it.”
I nodded, a bit embarrassed by the reference to our different circumstances. Swimming wasn’t exactly the rock and roll of the sports world, but it had given me a decent life and enough money to make me comfortable. Even I could tell that coaching hadn’t been quite as kind to Nick Dante. Which was a little odd, because knowing some of the names he used to work with, I would have expected him to be doing a little better for himself.
He was right about the view from the balcony though. When I’d been looking around for a new coach, a few of my friends had recommended Dante because they knew that he was living in the same town as me, and it was lucky that he happened to specialise in helping people get back on their feet. I’d looked him up and called him on his home phone number, not really knowing where he was situated. Once I found out his address, I have to admit there was a moment of shock to learn that his apartment was in one of the less salubrious parts of town, but looking out from his balcony gave me a whole new perspective. From there, I could see people milling about below, some clearly returning from work and others hanging out, laughing and joking. There was a view across the rooftops of the city, windows glinting in the lowering sunlight, leading the eye across to the ocean.
I set out the places for us, then put the bottle of wine on the table and took a seat, and it wasn’t long before he set down a plate in front of me, and another for himself, smiling as he looked out over the view himself.
“I never get tired of it, to tell you the truth. I eat out here most evenings in the summer.”
“The view is amazing, and it doesn’t seem like you have any annoying neighbours to cope with either.”
He took his seat opposite me and laughed. “Anything new?”
“Ronald is Ronald. He saw me leaving and had to stick his oar in, telling me that our shared road wasn’t a thoroughfare and if I wanted visitors I should tell them to park at the end and walk down. You know how long that road is.” I rolled my eyes.
Dante nodded. “Some people just don’t have interesting enough lives of their own. They have to get involved with other people’s.”
I nodded at that. “Exactly. I told him at least I have friends, nobody wants to spend time in his company.”
“You didn’t?” Dante was grinning and I shook my head.
“No, I didn’t. But I thought it.” I laughed. “I just told him that I had plans for the evening and left it at that. None of his business what I’m doing tonight.”
He waved a hand over the dishes. “Pasta and chicken in a mushroom and wine sauce. What do you think?”
“It looks and smells amazing. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”
He shook his head. “It’s no trouble. I love to cook.” There was a clink of glasses as he put one in front of each of us and set about opening the bottle of wine. “I don’t know much about wine, but this looks expensive.”
I dipped my fork into the meal, shaking my head as I laughed. “I don’t know anything at all about wine. I just asked the guy in the shop and he recommended this one. Maybe he realised I was a novice and decided to fleece me?”
We both laughed as we started eating, and it was the best meal I think I’d probably ever tasted. Nick Dante was a man of hidden talents, and it got me thinking about all the things I didn’t know about him, like where he had gone for those missing years. As the wine flowed and we laughed and talked about small things like the weather and his love of country music, my taste in video games and my childhood dream to be a fireman when I grew up, I began to get more and more curious until, in a moment of silence when the food was almost gone, I met his eyes over the top of my fork.
“Can I ask you something a little bit personal?”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Everyone wants to know about that. I don’t usually discuss it.”
I felt my face go red as I looked down. “Sorry, you don’t have to say anything. Everyone’s entitled to their privacy.”
Dante cleared his throat, and then I felt his hand clasp around mine. As I looked up, he was staring right into my face. “It’s OK. I don’t want secrets between us.” He licked his lips, pulling back, silent for a moment before taking another bite of his food and chewing thoughtfully. “The question is, where to begin. You know about my wife, I assume?”
“She was caught embezzling funds,” I said with a nod, then added, “Sorry, it’s not much of a secret I’m afraid.”
He laughed at that. “No, it’s not, that’s fine. Angelica was the love of my life, but she was also my best friend. We’d been together since we were teenagers, and we shared everything. We cried together when we found out we would never have children – a problem on my end,” he said, blushing and holding his hands up, like he didn’t want me to think that he was blaming her. “We could have probably gone down the medical route, or adopted, but in the end I don’t think kids were something either of us really wanted, not enough for all that anyway. There was at least a little relief mixed in with the sadness.”
“They’re not for everyone,” I said, trying to be sympathetic, but this was a topic outside my experience. I’d never even considered the idea of having children.
“No, they’re not. Anyway, when Angie was arrested it felt like someone had laid a brick on my chest. I’d never wanted anyone else, and I thought we were everything to each other, but it was like there was this whole other side to her that I didn’t know. I think I would have preferred it if she’d come to me and told me she was going to commit a crime. I probably would have helped her, if I’m being honest. But finding out about it after everyone else was hard for me. We cried together, but in the end there was no way we could get past that in our relationship. The trust had just gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching out to him across the table. To my surprise, he twined his fingers into mine.
“Thank you. It was hard.” There was a glint of tears in his eyes, and I suddenly wished I hadn’t asked about any of it. I certainly wasn’t going to push him to reveal any more, but a moment later he drew a breath. “Anyway, when our marriage broke down and she went to prison, it was like it left a hole in my life. I didn’t really know who I was any more. I love coaching, but it had got to the point where I did it just for the money and didn’t really care about anyone else. That wasn’t me, I didn’t like who I saw in the mirror, and I just knew I had to do something else.”
“What did you do?”
He squeezed my hand, just a little, as a grin crossed his face. “About a year later I just up and left. There was a charity doing work with communities in Somalia. They needed volunteers who could pay for their own passage out there and then work building wells and schools, distributing food and medicine and just generally making a difference. I had the money, so on a whim I signed up, phoned my clients to tell them I wouldn’t be there in the morning and headed out the next day.”
The way his face lit up as he told me about what he’d done made my heart beat just a little quicker. It was clear that he was as excited about it now as he had been at the time. “That’s amazing,” I said, feeling like I had to say something, but honestly words just couldn’t express how proud I felt to know someone who had done something so selfless – and so unbelievabl
y good. I considered asking him about the alleged affair, whether there was any truth in it, but decided not to. What business was it of mine? And did it even make any difference to anything? If it was true, it was obvious that he needed it, if it wasn’t there would be no benefit to dredging it up.
“It was what I needed,” he said. “I got to see my effort each day make a difference. I got to see kids live who would have died if we weren’t there. I got to see people drinking clean water that wasn’t going to make them sick.” He shook his head. “It did me as much good as it did them, and I’m grateful that I got to do it.”
THE MEAL WAS AMAZING, and when we’d finished Dante wouldn’t let me touch the dishes. He cleared them away himself, glancing my way every now and then, before disappearing off to the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with two bowls.
I held up my hand in protest. “I thought this was supposed to help me to eat more healthily.”
Dante frowned. “Look, Juke, let’s get one thing clear here. Eating healthy doesn’t mean you’re never allowed to have dessert.” He put the bowl in front of me, and my mouth started watering at the sight of dark chocolate sauce drizzled over a slice of lemon-coloured cheesecake. “It just means that when you do, you have to make it count.” He started to grin as he sat down. “I don’t make these every day.”
I plunged my spoon into the pudding, and as soon as I tasted the first bite, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to resist finishing the whole lot. It wasn’t just delicious, it was beyond that, somewhere in the realm of perfection. “Amazing,” I muttered, and saw his eyes light up.
“So,” he said, after finishing his first mouthful. “We’ve talked about my past. Bring me up to speed on Juke Henderson.”
I shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve been swimming since before I could walk. Community pool, then later in a few amateur contests. I got spotted and—” I hesitated. “You weren’t asking about my career, were you?”
Dante laughed, shaking his head. “There’s not much I don’t already know about your professional life, believe me. Call it due diligence or whatever, but before I take anyone on I make it a point to look into where they are now and where they’ve come from. Yours was interesting, quite a meteoric rise. It’s one of the things that made me intrigued to work with you and see if we can get you back there. But I was wondering about the man behind the stats and newspaper reports. For starters, what do you do for fun, apart from that games console?”
I felt my face go red. “Nothing really.”
“Oh, come on.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing.”
“Oh, well now I’m really intrigued. You have to tell me.” He sat forward, and not for the first time that evening I had the urge to close the distance between us and put my lips against his. My mind went back to the pool, the way his touch had felt, the way he’d been looking at me, the feeling that things were moving in the direction I had to admit that I wanted them to go. The idea that things might go there sent a thrill through my nerves. The way he was looking at me right then, so intense, it was almost like he wanted me to do it, like he was willing me to make the first move, but I knew that had to be my own wishful thinking. There was no way he would be interested. Was there? “All right, if you don’t want to say.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t push.”
“I write poetry,” I blurted out, then felt the silence hanging between us.
A little grin pulled at the corner of his lips. “Really?”
I nodded, trying to avoid his eyes but constantly drawn to them. “English was the one subject I didn’t suck at. I got into writing poetry. It’s stupid, I know.”
“It’s not stupid, Juke. Good for you. I’d love to read some sometime.”
“No you wouldn’t.” I put down my spoon, turning to look out over the rooftops as the light faded from the sky, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “It’s just something I do, I didn’t say I was any good at it. They’re kind of personal.”
“Juke.” I heard him come around the table, felt him draw close. “Don’t be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with writing poetry. Some of the world’s best lovers were poets.” He put his fingers to my chin, turning my head to face him. “Honestly, I’d like to read some sometime.”
In that moment, I finally lost my control. The feel of his fingers on my chin, controlling where I was allowed to look, his words, the way he was looking at me. I couldn’t hold back. Before I could think about what I was doing, I leaned forward and put my lips against his, closing my eyes as I kissed him.
And to my surprise, he kissed me back.
Chapter 4
When we broke apart, Dante was breathing hard, and I could feel my stress levels rising as the silence stretched. Was it the wrong thing to do? I wasn’t the sort of person that made a habit of acting impulsively, and I didn’t even know how he felt about me. He didn’t say anything, just stayed there, crouched beside me, lips slightly parted, glistening in a way that made me want to taste them again, just to check that I wasn’t dreaming this.
“Sorry,” I said, because I felt like I should say something. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
He shook his head. “Probably not.” His voice was breathy. Needy. It sent a shiver through my spine.
His tongue glanced across his bottom lip, and he opened his eyes, staring at me for a moment before he wrapped his arm around the back of my neck and went forward for a second kiss. My heart soared. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. His tongue swept into my mouth, tangling with mine, the taste of wine and chocolate mingling with the scent of his perfume, subtle and understated and...
Meant for me?
Had he wanted this the same way that I’d wanted it? Had he been watching me the way that I’d been watching him?
And what did it mean that he had initiated this second, more powerful kiss?
His teeth clicked against my own as he pushed me back, and my hands went to his shirt, tugging it free of his trousers and fumbling blindly with the bottom button. Dante’s own fingers joined mine, fighting to undo the buttons, both of us wanting him less clothed. Our mouths moved together, gasping for breath, fighting for control. He broke off, his mouth going to my neck, my throat, planting kisses on the most sensitive spots. As his buttons came undone I pushed my hands up beneath his shirt, running my fingers along his muscled torso, beginning to rock my hips against his, feeling my need grow. I wanted this. And to know that he felt the same was intoxicating. It wasn’t the first time I’d kissed a man, but it was the first time it had been anything like this. It felt like it should have the first time, like it meant everything in the world to both of us, like we were both putting ourselves on the line for this.
Suddenly, Dante pulled back, grabbing my wrist and tugging my hand out from his shirt. “I’m not...” His face turned red. “Sorry, it’s just, this isn’t me.”
I pulled my hands away like they’d been burned. “Sorry,” I gasped, running a hand over my shaved head. “If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”
Dante shook his head. “I don’t know what I want... It’s just, I’ve never had these feelings before, not for another...”
“Another man,” I finished for him, nodding, meeting his eyes, telling him that I understood. “It’s OK.”
“It isn’t. Not really. I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t be sending you mixed signals, it’s just... I thought I was straight.”
“Dante, it’s OK. We’ll stop.”
The way his breath came hard and fast, and the way his eyes never left mine, I could tell he was fighting an internal battle. It was one I’d fought myself, for a long time, before I’d come to accept myself for who I was.
“I’m not gay,” he said. “Am I bisexual? That word... it doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel this way about anyone... except you. Only you.”
“You don’t have to put a label on it. And you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” I reached out a tentative hand, putting it
on his shoulder, and he didn’t pull away. It was a manly gesture. Friendship. Just buddies having a heart to heart, or so I hoped. I wasn’t great at being masculine, but I was good at understanding how he was feeling. “I’m gay,” I said, fighting to keep the quiver out of my voice as I said the words for the first time in a long time. “I’m attracted to men. But if that’s not you, I’m not about to try to change it.”
Dante balled his hand into a fist, and for a moment I wondered if he was going to attack me. I’d heard stories. But he just wrapped his other hand around the fist, gripping tight, as he fought with his own feelings. If I could have, I would have said something to help him, but what was there? So he wasn’t gay, that was fine. It was just a moment of something that was nothing. The very fact that he wasn’t trying to blame me, to say that I shouldn’t have kissed him like that, was testament to his inner strength.
“I’m not attracted to men,” he said. “I’m really not. I never have been. I’ve never had any feelings for another man except friendship. Even that, not so much.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Angie was the only friend I needed for a long time. But... I’m attracted to you. I can’t lie about that. I find you fascinating. I don’t want this to end and it scares me.” When he reached out his hand I didn’t hesitate to put mine into it. “You don’t know how hard it is for me to admit to being scared.”
I smiled. “Can I tell you something?” I waited for him to nod before continuing. “I’ve never really kissed anyone before, not like this, not with passion. Experimentation, sure, but not... You’re my first real kiss.”
“Juke, you don’t have to be careful with me. It’s OK that you know who you are. I find it hard to believe that someone like you struggles for company if he wants it.”
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