by Avery Flynn
“Hang on a minute, Bryan,” I mumbled into the phone as I searched the floor for my jeans. I grabbed them, finding them lying in a pile next to Etienne’s pair, and slid them on over my bare ass as I headed for the living room area of the suite. I glanced back over my shoulder, soaking in the sight of him sprawled across the mattress. His dark skin was in deep contrast with the white sheets, the lean muscles of his back, legs and ass on mouth-watering display. I was coming back to taste that all over again - as soon as I was done with this telephone call.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said as I pulled the door behind me. “What’s up?”
“They gave you everything, DC. You got goddam everything you asked for.” Bryan’s voice had an edge of excited hysteria that I was sure would get him kicked out of the agent club. “Fuck, you could’ve asked to sleep in the Lincoln bedroom with four hookers and they’d given it to you.”
“What?” I was fuzzy, not sure I heard what he said.
“Wake up man! I said they gave you fucking everything.”
My legs went wobbly, as if I’d just been through a grueling practice session, and I sank down on the couch in shock. My ass hurt a little but not enough to make me regret last night. I leaned forward, rubbing my hand over my eyes as my head spun with the news and the residual effects of partying last night.
I heard movement in the other room, heard the shower turn on and knew Etienne was awake. The idea of him wet and naked in the shower was distracting and tempting but I needed to focus.
“I can’t believe it. When are you going to tell the Rage?”
“I’ll put the call in later today and we’ll figure out a joint time to have a press conference. I know you want to do this right.”
I thought over how much support I’d received from the Rage management, my teammates, my fans. It hadn’t been easy but they’d stood by me when I’d needed it. I owed them the courtesy of making a smooth transition.
“Yeah, I do.” I thought about all the plans I had for the kids at the Center, the programs I could get funded when I was here to fundraise for them full-time. And playing on the ice for my hometown . . . it was a dream come true. I bit back emotion, hot and raw where it burned in my throat. “Listen Bryan, thank you.”
“It was my pleasure man. You’re a dream client.”
“You could have dropped me or worse when I insisted on coming out but you didn’t. Thank you for that, man.” I’d done something that could’ve dried up my income stream for good and his as well. He’d never even blinked. I was going slip him a bonus above and beyond his fifteen percent. With this deal, I could afford it.
“DC, enjoy this victory. You deserve it. I’ll be in touch.”
He hung up and I was left alone with my thoughts and adrenaline spiking through my veins. A year ago I wasn’t sure if my career would be over. This was . . . insane. My eyes drifted to the door separating me from the one thing that dampened my excitement. My coming out had been because I wanted to live a full life. A complete life. A life with someone like Etienne.
So many guys were like the ones at the club last night. Looking for fun and hard dick and that was it. There was nothing wrong with that. I just wanted more and it was a son-of-a-bitch that the guy I’d like to try it with was going to be living one thousand miles away.
I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes, running scenarios of how it could work and I always came back to the same conclusion that this was the wrong time, wrong place but the right guy. Not a formula for success.
The door opened and I watched as Etienne exited the bedroom and strolled into the living room of the suite. Mocha brown skin still damp from his shower, he was dressed in the clothes he wore to the club last night . . . except for the addition of my t-shirt instead of his own. He looked good in my clothes and I didn't bother to tamp down the surge of possession that choked me at the sight.
I wanted Etienne. I just couldn't have him. It wasn't anyone's fault. Our timing just didn't work. It was bad loque - just as Etienne said.
He lowered himself into the space beside me of the sofa and slid closer when I draped my arm around his shoulders. We shifted against each other, trying not to lose contact as we found the perfect fit of our bodies together. Hard muscle and long limbs tangled in an intimate puzzle until we settled and he turned his head, meeting my gaze with his own.
"You got the deal," he said, his voice low and washing over me with that sweet bayou burr. It wasn't a question, we'd both known how this was going to end. "I'm so happy for you, Jamie." He tilted his head and scoured my face as if he was searching for a vital clue. "Aren't you happy?"
I searched his eyes and face for any sign of disconnect between his words and the truth of feelings but I knew I wouldn't find any. Etienne was happy for me. He cared about me and it was just one more indicator that this man was special, this man was what I needed in my life. He was the guy I had in mind when I’d decided to finally step out of the closet and vowed to live a life that made me happy.
But even though I knew all that, felt it down in my marrow, I had to speak the truth.
"I'm happy. It's exactly what I wanted," I corrected myself. "It's more money than I ever thought they'd give me. They gave me almost all of my demands. My agent is stunned."
"I'm not," he leaned in to kiss me lightly, his sexy mouth spreading into a wide smile against my lips. "They'd be crazy not to keep you."
And just as fast as it had arrived, his grin faded and the knowledge of what we could not have brought down the mood in the room. And the unspoken question of why he wasn’t going to keep me . . . and vice versa.
"I don't know how we would make it work," I said, throwing a huge spotlight on the questions silently pinging back and forth between us. I didn't expect him to have a solution but a part of me hoped that he would, that he was just waiting for me start the conversation. I didn't even try to ease back on the frustration hardening the edges of every one of my words. "I've never even had a long-term relationship so I don't know how to do this in-or-out of the same zip code."
"You're going to have so much on your plate. A new town. The kids at the center, a new job . . ."
"I know it's not the right time. "
"I wish it was," he whispered. "But it isn't."
And there was really nothing else to say. We both knew that this was not the right time to start this. Long distance was a bitch and I had no idea what my new life was going to look like. No idea if it had room for Etienne.
"Cher . . ."
I used the word he'd spoken in the dark last night, against my skin, sighed into a kiss, shouted on the wave of his coming. I didn't say it with the same sexy, lilt of NOLA as Etienne but all I was feeling made up for it.
Leaning in I took his mouth, wasting no time to press my tongue inside and taste the now-familiar spice of Etienne. It wasn't the hungry kiss of last night but it was just as hot. Just slower and deeper as we lingered over saying goodbye.
He moaned and wrapped his hand around my neck, pulling me down and allowing not even a breath of distance between us. I surrendered to his demand because it mirrored my own want. I couldn't believe I was voluntarily walking away from this man. I was a total moron. It was the right thing to do but also epically stupid. The only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that he was feeling the same thing.
We broke apart, panting breaths and swollen mouths and a metric fuck-ton of regret on our shoulders. When he rose from the couch and walked to the door to head down to catch a ride back to Ryker’s place, I had to know.
“Hey, you regret any of this weekend?”
He smiled, the big one that I liked to think was just for me. “Not a minute of it.”
And then he walked out and I let him go.
Chapter 9
Etienne
“How was your Uber ride-of-shame?”
I stopped my supposedly stealthy progress through Ryker’s apartment, swiveling my head to find him sitting at the bar in his kitchen, coffee cup in h
and and a smirk on his face. He was in a pair of running shorts, chest bare, tattoos covering most of the skin and hiding the scars he rarely talked about. One night, with a full bottle of tequila shared between us, I’d heard his story and learned to hate a man I’d never met and to admire the son I was grateful to know.
“I’m guessing you had a good time because I would swear that you left wearing a different shirt.” He squinted and craned his neck as if he needed to get a better look at me and what I was wearing. Dick. He saw me and my clothes just fine. “Wait? Wasn’t DC wearing a shirt just like that last night? Were you so exhausted from fucking and sucking all night that you forgot what you wore?” He let out a fake laugh. “I want to get laid like that.”
“Fuck off,” I said. There was no heat behind my words and that got his attention. Ryker rose from his perch, poured a second mug and slid it across the bar to me.
“That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Yeah. That’s all I’ve got.” I groaned out loud as I took my first sip of the brew. Black, strong and a little bitter, Ryker knew how I liked my coffee. I debated lying about the reason but that wasn’t me. Not with my one of my oldest friends. “I left it all in Jamie’s hotel room.”
That got me a look and few long beats of silence while he considered my words. His expression morphed from confusion to understanding tinged with a little bit of pity. Normally that would piss me off but I’d take it from Ryker. He didn’t feel sorry for me, he just knew that the situation sucked.
“So, he got the offer?”
“Yep.”
“And you guys are . . . ?”
I chewed on that question for a minute, covering up my delay with another sip of coffee. Ryker waited, never a guy to fill a silence and let you off the hook.
“Friends.”
“With benefits? Long distance booty call? Phone sex buddies?” He cocked his head and flashed a grin at me. “Clandestine meetings at an airport bathroom glory hole during hockey season?
“Where the fuck are you getting laid these days?”
“This is not about where I get my dick sucked,” he waved me off and u-turned the conversation right back to me. “This is about you and a guy you couldn’t keep your eyes off of last night. You two clicked. Everyone saw it. Am I wrong?”
“Long distance never works.” I ignored his question because in the end it didn’t matter how well Jamie and I fit together. Ryker wasn’t letting it go.
“That’s bullshit and you know it’s bullshit because you’re using it to avoid answering my question.” He nailed me with a glare of frustration and repeated his question again. Nice and slow. “Am. I. Wrong?”
I slid off the stool and walked over to the large double doors leading out to his tiny balcony. Through the glass I could see people walking and enjoying the gorgeous summer day in Dupont Circle. Washington in the summer reminded me of New Orleans in some ways. Areas of it were always teeming with people, walking their dogs, eating at outdoor cafes, and enjoying the weather and the energy of the city. I remembered how awesome it had been to play tourist with Jamie yesterday, how well we’d “clicked”. He was smart, kind, funny and crazy sexy. Everything I thought he’d be, turned out to be true. He was better actually.
“I think I could love Jamie,” I said, putting the truth out there once and for all. Saying it didn’t give it power or anything, it couldn’t change a damn thing. Geography, jobs, obligations, distance. A four-letter word didn’t change any of that.
“So what’s the problem?” I could hear the ceramic thud of his coffee mug on the counter across the room and I knew he was gearing up to let me have it. “Etienne you aren’t one of those guys who want an endless stream of tricks running in and out of your bed. Yeah, you like to have a good time in the back room of club as much at the next red-blooded gay man but in the end you prefer being with one guy, making something real.”
“It’s hard to make something real with over a thousand miles in between you.”
“It’s hard but not impossible.”
I turned to face him, reiterating all the reasons why this was a non-starter. They were all true and they all made perfect sense. “He’s going to be learning a new team in a new town. He’s got the kids at the center and everything he wants to do there. He just came out . . .”
“And you don’t want to stand between him and the smorgasbord of gay hockey fan ass he’ll want to try out now that he’s wearing a rainbow flag on his helmet?”
“Well . . . yeah.” I said it but I didn’t like it. I didn’t really believe it though. Jamie didn’t seem to be looking for that at all. He also wanted something real and that’s why this sucked so fucking much.
“You’re so full of shit,” he growled and strode across the room to go at me nose-to-nose. There was tension in his posture and heat in his words but there was no fight in his eyes. He wasn’t mad. He was . . . disappointed. “Don’t be like me.”
“What are you talking about?” Ryker was one of the best people I had in my life. I could always count on him to tell me the truth, whether I wanted to hear it or not. If I needed him, he was there. He’d had my back in fights and to be like him wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“I fuck around all the time and I love it. The dirtier the better. I don’t have stupid rules about not doing the same guy twice; if we’re having a good time I keep them around until we’re not. It’s easy and fun but its not real.” He paused, taking a deep breath before he plowed forward. “I don’t even let myself take the chance. I just shut it down. I don’t even try. To try would take too much work and bring up shit I don’t want to deal with.” I opened my mouth but he kept going, deliberately cutting off the denial I was going to voice. “You try. You put yourself out there and I think that is so fucking cool. You get knifed in the back and disappointed and hurt but you try anyway. You’re a fucking badass. Don’t be like me.”
I didn’t know what to say. I stared at him, one of my best and oldest friends and let his words sink in. I think it was the most words he’d ever spoken at one time that wasn’t fueled by liquor and I had no idea what do with them. They’d landed a little too close to my truth. I needed time to process, time away from Jamie and the imprint of his touch on my body, the smell of him on my skin, to get my head straight. This weekend had been too much, too fast.
And Jamie had never asked. I was a guy who went for what he wanted but this time I held back. Jamie had a lot of shit to figure out in a new town, new team, new life. If he’d been staying in New Orleans this would have been completely different.
I glanced around the room, looking for an escape and found it in the clock on the entertainment center.
“I’ve got to get ready to go to the airport.” I moved past him, walking towards the guest room. I had just enough time to pack my stuff and make my flight. Ryker moved back to the kitchen behind me and I paused before I headed down the hall, looking back over my shoulder. “Thanks for the advice. Working at Dr. Androghetti’s office is rubbing off on you.”
“I’ll send you my bill.” He saluted me with his coffee mug. “Now go pack your shit and I’ll take you to the airport.” He smirked. “Unless you want me to drive you back to DC’s hotel.”
I just turned and walked away because deep down that’s what I really wanted to do.
Chapter 10
DC
“The kids are still talking about you bringing by ‘the cup’. That seriously made their year.”
I turned towards the entrance to the boat house to find Carla silhouetted against the backdrop of the sun glittering on the water of the Anacostia River. She was gorgeous, her smile huge and her hair tumbling from a messy pile on top of her head. Wearing and old t-shirt and shorts, you’d never guess that she was the most sought after shrink in DC and held the secrets of our nation’s rich and powerful.
I was getting ready to hand over some of mine.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I answered, letting the memories of their excitement b
ring a smile back to my face. When my agent asked if I would have taken less money to move to Washington, I’d said yes with them in mind. “I love those kids.”
“Don’t let them know that,” she joked as she walked into the boathouse and dumped a load of equipment on a nearby bench. “They’ll use it to their advantage and you’ll be screwed.”
“It’s too late.”
“Well, then . . . it was nice knowing you, suckah,” Carla teased, turning her back to me as she sorted her crap into several labeled bins attached to the wall.
I let her work in silence, taking the time to figure out my own shit a little bit better. When she was done, she grabbed two bottles of water from a nearby dorm-sized fridge and tossed one in my direction. I reached out to catch it but the condensation-slick plastic juggled between my palm and fingers and I let out a string of colorful curses before I finally captured it against my chest.
“It’s a good thing you play hockey and not football butterfingers,” she laughed, returning my middle-finger salute with the added bonus of a fish-lipped kiss blown in my direction.
“Go fuck yourself,” I grumbled with force but no heat, opening the bottle and letting the cold liquid coat my dry throat. It was hot as fucking balls outside and inside the boat house wasn’t much better.
“Did you kiss Etienne with that mouth?” she asked, lifting the bottle to her lips but letting her movement stall when I didn’t answer. She leaned in close and shoved my arm. “You did! You lucky dog. I want to know everywhere you kissed him. Did he top? I bet he’s great with his hands.”
“You have zero filter.” I wasn’t embarrassed or surprised. Carla’s sexual preferences were decidedly left of the mainstream and she was the poster girl for “sex positivity”. I couldn’t keep the “I was fucked so good” grin off my face. “Fuck yeah. He’s good with his hands, his cock. He did not disappoint.”
