by Harper Logan
And the fact that they were right about me only made it worse. Yeah, I was in love with Adam. I didn’t need anyone else to point that out. But that emotion wasn’t returned. He was just experimenting—he’d go back to being straight as soon as we got home.
If these commenters thought otherwise, they were mixing up love and lust. That was all.
I sighed, shifting on the bench I sat on. The locker room was empty except a few unspeaking old men. I headed to the mirror and fiddled with my hair, trying to get it perfectly neat—really trying to get out some of my nervous energy.
Lust was more than I’d ever dreamed of from Adam, and I couldn’t ask for more than that. I had to be happy with the unexpected things I’d gotten. Not be greedy and pout because I wasn’t getting everything.
Sitting down again, I clicked over to my text messages. There were new ones from the guys, and with a rush of guilt, I remembered Mikey’s wife’s pregnancy. But these weren’t about her. They were about me.
>Tim: When are Adam & Calvin coming back?
>Mikey: Today, I think. C-Dog’s birthday’s tomorrow.
>Tim: Tiffany and I will be back by then. Surprise party?
I laughed to myself. Not much of a surprise if I know about it, I wrote.
>Tim: We can still surprise the baby.
Adam appeared at the door, already fully dressed but with his hair wet from the shower. A tingle went through my entire body as a flashback from last night came back to me. God, he’d been so fucking hot as he lay under me, both of us equally helpless in our need for the other.
I cleared my throat. Now was not the time for my hole to start aching for him.
“The guys are talking about a birthday party,” I said. “Combined with some kind of baby shower, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Wow.” He rubbed his neck, flicking off a few beads of water that’d gathered there. “When and where?”
“I think they’re going to work out the details now.” I couldn’t stop staring at the lines of his neck leading down into his shirt. “I guess I’ll go along with whatever they decide.”
“So, we’re going to hang out after we get back.”
There was a tinge of nervousness in his voice. Could he be worried? And was he worried that we wouldn’t hang out, or that we would?
“We’ll see each other at the party for sure,” I said.
“Oh. Okay.” He cut his eyes away.
We headed for the car, and I took the driver’s seat. Buddy was quiet, somber even, as we started to drive. I flicked on a CD and tapped my fingers to the beat. “What should we see today?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Adam said. “Maybe we should head straight home.”
“What? But there’s plenty of time.”
“Yeah, but we both have work tomorrow.” Again, he wasn’t looking at me. “You must have stuff to do, too. Grocery shopping, laundry… I need to water my plants.”
“So what, you want to get back before noon?” I felt like pulling the car over so I could look at him properly. “What’s happening? Are you upset about last night?”
“Not unless you are,” he mumbled.
“Not in the least.” I took my hand off the wheel so I could touch his shoulder. “Last night was fucking amazing.”
“I thought so, too.”
That almost made me smile. But if he thought so, why was he acting so weird?
“When we get back…” He hesitated. “You don’t want to do stuff like that anymore?”
Now I hesitated, too. Because I wanted to—I wanted him so bad it hurt like a vise in my chest when I thought about not being with him anymore.
The only thing—and it was just a tiny little problem—was that he was straight.
“I don’t know,” I said.
Yeah, he was open enough to fuck a guy. A vacation experiment, “when in Rome” or whatever. I didn’t quite understand the thought process that had led to us hooking up, to be completely honest.
All I knew was that he didn’t see this as something with serious potential. I’d never been a hundred percent sure about officially being with a man either, coming out of the closet to the world and all of that. But the feelings I had for him were too strong to keep this to a hook-up.
If I was going to be with someone like him, I wanted more. Even if I was still terrified to tell anyone else the truth, when we were behind closed doors, I needed to show the love that I felt inside. And I needed to get that love returned, too.
I had to keep my heart safe. I’d only get hurt if I kept sleeping with him when I felt this way.
I knew when we got back, we’d go back to being buddies… in public, and in private. We’d fuck if I allowed it to happen, but on his side, that’d be all. He didn’t feel like that for me. His heart wasn’t designed that way.
“Okay,” Adam said quietly. “I think it’s best if we go straight back, then.”
“Okay.”
We talked a little on the drive back. Just normal bullshit like what our friends were saying in the group chat or making fun of the songs on the radio. Nothing about the evening of passion we’d shared, or the fooling around and making out that’d come before that.
We went silent often, and I found myself wishing we could just get back and skip the awkwardness. As much as I craved Adam’s company—and more—I didn’t really feel like talking much at the moment.
I guessed I was the one bringing down the mood. It’d been hard to say no to Adam when he offered more mindblowing sex. I just didn’t see another option. It wasn’t as if he was going to return the feelings I had for him… now, or ever.
Instead of getting a proper meal, we grabbed lunch at a drive-thru. Our only pause was to get gas. Adam said he’d take Buddy to stretch his legs while I filled up the tank. I opened the door to let the dog out.
“You all right?” Adam asked.
“Sure. Why?”
“I’ve never seen you not smile when you see Buddy.”
My throat tightened. Adam knew me so well. He paid attention to me… he knew how my mind worked. Just another reason for me to love him.
But it didn’t mean he felt anything for me.
We arrived back in Rosebridge at ten to one. And then Adam and I said goodbye.
19
Eighteen—Adam
“There you go,” I said to my basil plant as I watered it. “Not too much, not too little. Just right.” It did nothing, as basil plants tended to do. “You’re not still mad at me for leaving, are you? You haven’t gotten over it by now?”
The apartment was dead silent. I dripped water into the thyme plant, vowing not to speak to it.
So naturally, I spoke to it. “You know I was only gone for a couple of days. I was always going to come back.”
I was clearly cracking. Having some sort of mental break. How else could I explain how I’d been feeling ever since returning from the homiemoon?
Sure, I’d come across normal enough at my job today. I’d gone back to work without any problems. A few people had heard about the videos we’d been posting, and there’d been some good-natured ribbing. Nothing I couldn’t handle.
But every time I’d had a second to myself, my thoughts continuously had strayed in one direction.
Calvin…
I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. For some reason, I always pictured that day at the pool—after I knew about him, but before he knew about me. The sunlight had hit him just right, and then there was his dripping body…
I pictured other moments, too. I’d apparently memorized what he looked like when my cock was deep inside him, and that was the image that came back to me when I was completely alone. Even without envisioning the rest of him, the memory never failed to get me hard. And then, multiple times in the past twenty-four hours, I’d been forced to take care of it.
I played our conversations on repeat in my mind, every moment of them that I could remember. And when I needed a refresher, I pulled up our videos on YouTube. I watched us,
seemingly so carefree. I remembered what’d been happening behind the scenes, how we’d gone from somewhat tense to actually happy. I wished that for one day, I could have that back.
Calvin didn’t want me anymore. That was fine. Maybe I wasn’t his type after all. I was a big boy—I could deal with that. Maybe he wanted some particular type of guy, or maybe just someone more secure in his sexuality. I had no idea, and it didn’t matter.
But he hadn’t even called or texted me since he dropped me off yesterday. I would’ve liked to hear his voice. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing our friendship.
I sighed and grabbed a glass of water for myself. I drank slowly, staring at the plants.
“You two don’t know how to get a guy back, do you?” I asked. “Yeah, I said a guy. I’m apparently bisexual or something. Maybe even gay. I know you must be surprised.”
They were silent, although I would’ve sworn a basil leaf waved very slightly.
“I’m going to have to figure out some way of dealing with him.” I toyed with the edge of a leaf. “I’m going to see him tonight for his birthday party.”
I frowned at the plants. “Yeah, it’s his birthday. I wasn’t going to send him a happy birthday text and bother him if he doesn’t want to talk to me. I’ll say it to him tonight. Whatever.”
They kept staring at me.
“Yes, I remember how much effort he put in to make my birthday special,” I said. “It’s whatever. He doesn’t want me to text, I’m telling you. I’m not going to do it, so stop guilting me.”
The plants did nothing.
“Fine, you want to sit there judging me? I’ll show you.”
I ripped off a basil leaf and shoved it in my mouth.
* * *
I took my time heading over to the party. In the interest of dawdling, I took a detour to the Riverwalk. Apparently it’d exploded with street performers since the last time I’d been here. A full band was getting most of the attention. Their guitar player and violinist were good, but an insanely talented drummer stole the show.
I stood on the sidewalk and just watched for a few minutes, amazed at the way the guy drew such emotion out of inanimate objects. Feeling eyes on me, I noticed another spectator glaring. Seemed like he didn’t like the way I was looking at the drummer. His boyfriend, maybe? I sighed, wondering if I was in the presence of a happy gay couple. Time to move on.
The guest list for the party had apparently gotten bigger than I’d known. Cars were already parked all the way down Mikey’s block by the time I arrived, and I was relatively early.
I mean, early by the standards of not-really-wanting-to-be-there. By any others, I was fashionably late.
After the hike from my parking spot to Mikey’s door, I knocked and waited. I guessed it made sense there’d be a lot of people. There was Calvin’s birthday and Kim’s pregnancy, and then Tim and Tiffany would still be celebrating their wedding.
“Around back,” another guest said as she came up the driveway.
Oh. The backyard was crowded with people I knew, both friends and acquaintances. I waved at Rich, who was manning the barbecue.
And then I noticed the signs and streamers. Congratulations Mikey and Kim! was on top. Happy birthday to Adam and Calvin, below.
My heart stuttered. And that was even before I saw Tim, Dan, and Rich gesturing me over. They were standing behind four lawn chairs set up at the back of the yard. Mikey and Kim occupied two of them, I saw as I got closer.
Calvin was in another.
“What is all of this?” I asked with the biggest smile I could fake. “I already celebrated my birthday.”
“We didn’t, so suck it up,” Dan said, reaching over the chair to give me a punch on the arm.
“But it’s Calvin’s official thirtieth today.”
“And yours was three days ago, so get in the chair.”
The only chair left was, of course, the one next to Calvin. I eased myself down, muttering a barely-audible “happy birthday.” He may or may not have even looked at me—I wasn’t looking at him to find out.
“The famous homies,” Tim said, ruffling my hair. “We half-thought you’d be on the other side of the country by now.”
“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “Once you left our boring asses behind, we figured you’d never come back.”
That did sound preferable to this whole awkwardness. I squirmed in my chair, conscious of the number of eyes on me. How long before someone figured out there was a strain between me and Calvin? How long before they figured out why?
“We had a great time, but we needed to come back to reality,” Calvin said. “Jobs, lives, et cetera.” Now he shot me a meaningful glance.
What was that supposed to mean? I folded my arms and tried to think of a retort, but Tim was ahead of me.
“Reality blows,” he said, waving his red cup around so that beer splashed to the lawn. “You two should’ve stayed on the road forever. This marriage thing is such a commitment, man. So many responsibilities.”
“Says the dude who’s been married for a week,” Dan laughed. “Give it some time before you start complaining.”
“And you don’t know shit about responsibilities,” Mikey said, touching his wife’s stomach. Kim looked embarrassed and proud at the same time.
“Maybe I will soon,” Tim said, glancing at Tiffany. “You never know.”
“Congratulations, by the way,” I said to Mikey. “I didn’t get the chance to say it in person.”
Calvin mumbled something similar, and Kim thanked both of us. “And happy birthday to both of you,” Mikey added.
“Now, tell us more about your trip,” Dan said. “The juicy shit. Not what was in those YouTube videos. I watched them, even though I’ve never felt gayer than watching my buddies prance around in swimsuits.” He shuddered, then covered Kim’s ears. “How many hoes did you two smash?”
My stomach flipped over, and I stood up so fast my head spun. “I’m going to grab myself a beer.”
“Me too,” Calvin said.
I walked as fast as I could toward the refreshment table. If I went quickly enough, maybe he’d get the hint that I didn’t want him to come with me. When I reached the table and grabbed a cup, I could feel his presence at my side. But when I turned to speak to him, he wasn’t there.
I looked around, searching for his face in the crowd. God, there had to be fifty people here. I hadn’t been prepared for something of this magnitude, particularly where I was apparently one of the guests of honor.
There he was, I saw at last. Up talking to Rich at the barbecue. It looked like the meat was just about done, and Calvin was getting a plate instead of grabbing a beer, like he’d said.
He was perfect in the afternoon sunlight—the lines of his face like an artist’s rendering of an ideal male. A lump grew in my throat as I looked at him—stared, really. He was so amazing and so untouchable. I’d had him for a brief time, but I’d never be so lucky again.
My heart hurt. Setting the cup on the table for a second, I pressed my fingers into my upper ribcage. I already knew this wasn’t the kind of pain I could just massage out.
Fuck… maybe I should just go home. Say I wasn’t feeling well or something. I couldn’t deal with an entire night this close to Calvin. And they were only going to force us closer to each other. Even force us to interact.
The idea of faking sick tempted me, but what good would it really do? If not tonight, I’d have to see him again in a few weeks at the most. Unless… would he start avoiding our group activities because of me? Maybe I should do that instead. The idea of skipping the monthly poker night had my heart twisting even more.
I had to be strong. I couldn’t let Calvin and his lack of interest stop me from enjoying this party with my friends.
It wasn’t like he’d even done anything wrong to me. He just… didn’t want me. I couldn’t blame him for that. Not his fault if I spent half my waking hours fantasizing about getting him into bed again. Or if I spent most of the other hal
f remembering every detail of the times we’d actually been there.
I wished I knew what had changed things, because he’d sure seemed into me for a little while. But then, we were on vacation… nothing better around. Now that we were home, he had more opportunities. Maybe he wanted to take advantage of that.
I was still staring at him, I realized. I probably looked like a lovestruck tenth-grader. Forcing my hand to move, I brought my cup to my mouth and drained half the beer. I poured some more and then headed toward the lawn chairs.
Tiffany stopped me—thank God! I gave her a strained smile. “Congratulations again on your marriage. How was the honeymoon?”
“Fantastic,” she said. “And thank you again for your speech. It was better than certain other ones from the night.” She rolled her eyes.
I laughed curtly. “No problem. It all turned out fine in the end.” Except how it really, really didn’t.
“Right. How was the homiemoon?” She peered at me now, looking far more curious. “Your videos were pretty interesting.”
“Well, everything was just like in the videos. If you saw them, then you know everything.”
“So that one motel was really that bad?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, relieved at the neutral topic. “You should’ve seen. It was ten times worse in real life.”
“Wow. And then you went camping?” She toyed with a strand of hair. “Sleeping in hammocks, right? Or… uh… in one hammock?”
“One,” I said, then immediately saw the need to clarify. “Calvin only had one in the car, because it wasn’t planned. He spent the night in that. I slept on a blanket on the ground.”
“Oh-h-h.” She seemed somewhat disappointed. “A lot of people were wondering about that, you know.”
“People? What people?”
“I don’t know if you ever look at the Homiemoon forum…”
I tilted my head. “What is that?”
“Well, some people made a message board where they could talk about you guys. There are some things that you can’t say in YouTube comments.”
