Josh wiped his hands together, clearing them of debris. “And you and King are back,” he finished.
“My mom lives here.” Darius inhaled deeply and looked around. “Plus, this place is much prettier and warmer than Detroit. Can’t believe this is what autumn feels like.”
“It’s pretty amazing,” Josh agreed. “I’ve been here my entire life. Born and bred.”
“They know how to make them here.” Darius ran his gaze over Josh’s face and continued downward.
“I like to work out.” Why did he say that? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“That’s obvious,” Darius said. “I do too. Run. Gym. Swim. Whatever.”
“Speaking of running, I should really get back to it.”
“Of course.” Darius took a step back and wrapped the leash around his hand, tugging King out of Josh’s way. “Don’t let me keep you. And thanks for saving this one.” He looked down at the dog who was returning the gaze, panting.
Josh bent down and rubbed the mutt behind his ear. “Bye, boy. Be good.”
With a derisive chuckle, Darius added, “That’ll be the day.”
Beginning to jog backward, Josh waved before resuming his run. He wanted to look back, but something told him that he shouldn’t, that he should just keep running.
Fuck it.
Jerking his head around, he saw Darius’s splendid backside walking away, King safely trotting by his side. But what was he expecting? That the hottie was going to be panting as hard as King as he jogged away? How pathetic. That guy isn’t into you. He was only being kind because he didn’t want to get sued. He was as straight as they came, and guys who looked like him always had girlfriends, not boyfriends. It was only Josh’s vivid imagination that convinced him, although briefly, otherwise.
* * * *
Damn, that boy has one hell of a butt, Darius thought. He sighed, his head tilting to the side. But there was no reason to get excited by a straight guy. Nice to look at but that’s as far as it goes.
“C’mon, King,” Darius said, tugging the leash. “We tried.”
Darius’s gaydar had told a completely different story. But not everyone was in touch with their sexuality, some men deciding to live in the closet, instead of facing their true selves. Sad. And what a waste.
He had only been in Sarasota for two weeks, but the city that was more like a big town already felt like home. Granted, he spent a better part of his youth in Sarasota, but it had grown, attracting gays, Europeans, and people who wanted to fall off the grid or recreate themselves. Darius fell into at least one of those categories. Wanting a new start in a familiar place was nothing new; people all over the world did it every day. But at nineteen, what did he have to leave behind?
Plenty.
After moving to a suburb of Detroit to be around his father’s family, his parents’ marriage died a slow death. But by that time, Darius had bonded with family and made a name for himself at school, especially on the basketball court, and when his mother, Estelle, had made the decision to return to Sarasota, his decision was to stay with his father, Peter. Deep down, he hadn’t believed that his mother would leave her only child, but she was just as stubborn as he was.
There were visits that had slowed to once a year, mainly in the summer, but Estelle’s constant and ever-changing boyfriends never made Darius feel welcome in his mother’s modest home. Yearly visits turned to every other, and then phone calls and Skype filled in the gaps.
Estelle had remarried, but Ed or Eddie or Eugene, Darius couldn’t remember which, was now long gone, and the only thing she had to remember him by was her newly acquired appreciation for alcohol, which he had brought to the short-lived and tumultuous marriage. Darius’s latest visit with his mother turned into an extended stay with no end date in sight.
Estelle was doing better than when Darius first arrived, but what did that mean exactly? Instead of passing out at seven from too many tumblers of bourbon, she made it till eight? It was heartbreaking and sickening to witness, but according to what Darius had researched on the Internet, an addict had to realize and admit his or her addiction before accepting help. If that day ever came, Darius vowed he would be there to do what he could. Something told him he shouldn’t hold his breath.
“Thirsty?” Darius said to King, his trotting playful pace slowing to a crawl. “Just a few more feet and there’s a bar right over there.”
A small girl wearing tight pigtails, walking past with her mother, burst out in laughter. “Mommy,” he heard her say. “That man’s talking to his doggie. Do you think the doggie can talk back?”
“Great,” he said to King. “Now you have people thinking I’m a lunatic. Thanks, King.”
The mutt responded with two sharp short barks that sounded much like an unhappy retort.
“Keep walking,” Darius mumbled out of the side of his mouth.
They entered the Rusty Pelican, a bar and restaurant that doubled as a Jet Ski and kayak rental for vacationers who wanted to try their hand at water sports. Nodding a hello to the bleach blonde pulling taps, Darius passed through the six-stool bar and headed for the dog-friendly deck with water views. As the waitress took his order of bottled water and a Diet Coke, he settled into a corner table to soak up the atmosphere of the quirky bar that was quickly becoming a lost breed in Florida, thanks to developers whose aim was to snatch up any real estate along the coastline so they could throw up a million-dollar condominium high-rise, blocking the view for everybody else. Darius knew it was only a matter of time until the owners got tired of serving draft beers and grouper sandwiches with a side of fries and their eyes filled with dollar signs, but until then this was his favorite place. It wasn’t fancy, but what it lacked in class, it more than made up for in friendly atmosphere and original décor. Darius smiled up at the stuffed fishes mounted and preserved forever, hanging on every available inch of latticework and beams that made up the outdoor structure. Classic.
“You like it?” The brassy blonde from the bar placed the drinks on the wood table. She eyed a fish coated in a shiny substance, its gaping mouth grotesque. “I caught that one two years ago.” Her gaze darted left, landing on another. “That’s Melinda. She was my first.” Judging by her deeply tanned leathery skin, it appeared as if the woman spent all of her free time away from the bar, fishing. “Hungry, babe?” Her smile displayed a crooked row of smoker’s teeth.
“No, ma’am,” Darius answered. “King might be, but I’m only thirsty, and that drink will take care of that.”
The blonde pulled a dog treat from the back pocket of her faded jean shorts. “Bet he’d like one of these.” She suspended the treat over King, inches from his salivating lips. “Whatcha say, boy?” King answered her by jumping and engulfing it in one second flat. Her laugh was a low rumble. “He’s certainly not a shy one.”
“No, ma’am. Thanks.”
She winked and turned to head for the bar but stopped short, turning back. “And stop with that ma’am stuff. Although I could be your mother, you’re making me feel ancient. The name’s Tracy.”
“Good to meet you, Tracy. Darius Moore.” Darius could tell he’d met a friend for life.
Fast and efficient, Tracy darted away as quickly as she had appeared. He was miles from Detroit, Darius thought, figuratively and literally.
Unscrewing the bottle top, he poured a steady stream of water onto the wood deck floor as King lapped to quench his thirst. Sated, the dog’s short attention span drew him away from the water to a fly dive-bombing him. That should entertain him for a while.
Enjoying the warm breeze across his face, Darius looked toward the park, not really focusing on anything or anyone in particular until the man he’d just met jogged into view. He was tall and lean and carried himself with the grace of a natural athlete. His sweat-soaked hair appeared darker than Darius imagined it would be when dry, his skin lightly tanned to a perfect golden color. What he wouldn’t give to spend several hours with him, up close and personal. Images of Josh stripping
and stepping into the shower after his workout filled Darius’s mind. He imagined the perfect amount of chest hair stretched across his broad, defined chest, and a trail snaked down his lean abdomen past his belly button to his semi-hard cock. Thick veins bulged from the shaft, and damp curling dark hair surrounded the muscle that Darius wanted to work over with his tongue.
His cock now hard in his nylon basketball-style gym shorts that left nothing to the imagination, Darius took a long, deep breath and shifted in his seat in the attempt to hide his erection. Damn, if he didn’t get that taken care of soon, he was going to explode. It had been too long since he’d experienced the caress of a man, the heated breath across his shoulder blades as his lover fucked him to heaven and back. This is not helping. In a minute, I’ll soak through my shorts if I keep this up.
He guzzled his jumbo-sized soda in seconds, hoping to put out the fire his imagination created. To help it along, he attempted to redirect his thoughts to the mundane task of filling out and returning job applications—the most important task of the day—and picking up a short list of groceries his mother asked him to get after his walk in the park, something that would no doubt bore him to death. It was easy to lose an erection imagining cartons of soymilk lined horizontally on a shelf, large curd cottage cheese stacked neatly a few rows down, and big cardboard boxes of saltine crackers all under the unfriendly glare of supermarket fluorescent lighting.
Darius stole a quick glance southward to see if everything was tucked away safely.
“C’mon, buddy,” Darius said to King as he stood and secured the leash by wrapping it a few times around his right wrist. Reaching into his pants pocket for a few bills, he tossed them on the table to cover the tab. “See you later, Tracy.”
The proprietor smiled and waved. “See you, handsome,” she called out. “See you, Darius.”
Darius chuckled under his breath as he walked across the plank floor of the deck. He stepped aside to allow a young couple accompanied by a well-mannered Saint Bernard to pass. When he redirected his gaze to scan the park for a last look for Josh, he saw plenty of people but not the one he wanted to see. Josh was long gone.
Disappointed, Darius tugged lightly at the leash. “Looks like it’s just you and me, boy.”
Chapter Two
“Dude, you’re sweating all over the place.” Mitch Montgomery shoved a wad of cold cuts into his mouth as Josh walked into the apartment. “I’m making a sandwich. Want me to make you one while I’m at it?”
“Yeah, thanks, bro.” Josh stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it at Mitch.
“Gross,” Mitch said, ducking out of the way. “And you better not leave that there for a week.”
“You’re giving me a cleanliness lecture?” Josh questioned. “Who dusted and vacuumed the last time … and the time before that?”
“I’ll make it up to you. Promise. I’ve been busy with work and school.”
“And with Austin.” Josh shut the door of the apartment and crossed the short distance to the small kitchen island that had condiments, bread, and unwrapped sandwich meat spread over it. He watched as his friend threw together a sandwich in record time. “What’s the rush?”
“I’m in between classes and thought I’d stop by the gym to see Austin. He texted earlier to say that his client canceled last minute, so he has time to give me a quickie before I have to head back to school.” Mitch handed the sandwich to Josh.
Forgoing the need for a plate, Josh took a generous bite, then another. “I can’t believe you still eat bologna.”
“I can’t believe you still watch Saturday morning cartoons.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Cartoons are cool, bologna is not.” Josh devoured the sandwich anyway. “Want to make me another one?”
“Thought you didn’t like my preferred cold cut?”
“It grows on you.”
“Have at it,” Mitch said, stepping aside to give Josh some room.
“You wouldn’t want to be late for that quickie.” Josh waggled his eyebrows.
“It’s only a massage, so take your mind out of the gutter.”
“I like it there,” Josh returned. “It’s my happy place.” He slapped together another sandwich. “You know I’m only busting you, right? And I have to admit, a small part of me is jealous that you’re getting some and I’m having the biggest dry spell I’ve ever had in my life.”
“You? I don’t believe it. If you take your ass down to the pool looking like you do right now, you’d end that dry spell and store up for any future ones you might have.”
Josh shrugged. “Those guys are hot and nice and all, but I don’t want them.”
“I’m not saying to marry them,” Mitch returned.
“Every guy in Banana Court has had them.”
“Hell, every guy in a one-hundred-block radius has had them. What’s your point?”
“I want to be choosier than I’ve ever been before?”
“I understand.” Mitch stood at the counter, eating. “Although that guy with the tremendous bubble butt is quite the wet dream.”
Josh hummed his approval. “I probably should tap it.” He took a bite. “I probably will,” he said through a full mouth. “I’m being overly choosy and freakin’ sappy. Not sure what my problem is lately.”
Mitch’s chewing slowed, and he gave Josh a sideways glance. “Is it because I haven’t been around too much lately?” he asked. “I’ve purposely tried to place some distance between us when Austin’s with me, hanging at his instead of here. I don’t want you to get sick of us all over each other making kissy noises and such.”
“Thanks. A little of that does go a long way.”
“Hey!”
“Joking.” A devilish smile slid across Josh’s face. “You know I’m stoked for you. Austin’s a great guy, and I wish you the best. You know that. You’re my best friend, and I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”
“I am, and I do.” Mitch resumed eating. “You deserve to be happy too, ya know, especially with everything you’ve been through. How are your parents by the way?”
“They’re coping with having a gay son. Mom better than Dad but I knew that would be the case.”
Mitch gave Josh a sympathetic smile. “It’ll get better.”
“I’m not so sure it will, but it’s beyond my control. I did what I had to do to live my life as I saw fit. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt them, but I’m happy I made the decision to be honest with them about my sexuality after being outed.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it was all for the best. I couldn’t take the secrets and the lies. It was exhausting.”
“You did the right thing,” Mitch assured. “I don’t know how people live that way.”
“Me either, that’s why I did what I did. I’m happier, and that’s all that matters. Mom and Dad are going to have to make their own decisions, whatever they may be. Just like me, they have to be true to themselves and their beliefs, with or without me.”
“I’m sure they will stick by you. Give them time.”
“I hope so, but I’m prepared for every possibility.”
“You got me, buddy, whether you want me or not.”
Josh poked out his tongue. “I see that I’m not the only one being sappy.”
“You’re such a prick.” Mitch chuckled, displaying his boyish dimples.
Josh knew that Mitch was telling the truth, that he would be his friend for life. Josh felt the same, Mitch being the brother he never had.
Finishing his sandwich and wiping his hands over the front of his shorts to remove breadcrumbs, Josh said, “I met this guy today, in the park. Mixed race with the most amazing eyes. He had the cutest dog, too. King. I got tangled in his leash.”
“Sounds kinky.”
“The dog’s, not the dude’s.”
“Maybe that can change. Did you get his number?”
Josh shook his head. “I figured he was straight.”
“Why do you always think all men are straight?” Mitch questioned
as he cleaned the counter with a nearby cloth. “You do realize there are many just like us out there, right?”
“If he was gay, it wasn’t obvious.” Josh opened the refrigerator to place the jars and bread into it, closing the door again. “He was chatty, though. Apologized profusely but I suspect he was worried that I might bitch him out or drag him into small claims court.”
“Did you ever think he was trying to strike up a friendship, ask you out on a date, or at the very least, ask for your number?”
“Dude, I’m not like you.” Josh hesitated for a second, embarrassed to proceed but did it anyway. “You’re all smooth and slick and handsome. I’m the friendly, sweet, and unassuming one.”
“You are all those things, but you’re attractive, too. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not feeling that way lately.”
“Stand back,” Mitch directed, giving Josh a shove. “Let me see you.” He ran his gaze over Josh. “You have never looked better. Your stomach has zero fat on it, your shoulders are permanently pumped.” He squeezed Josh’s arm hard. “I’ve never seen your biceps look better. You’ve been hitting the workouts big-time. I’ve noticed you at the gym. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Some guys have been commenting.”
Josh shook Mitch loose. “You’re full of it, bro. Completely and totally full of it. I can see it piling up all around us.”
“Honest.” Mitch’s hands flew up, palms out, and his eyes were wide. “That super cute Italian guy asked about you the other day. The one with the tattoo sleeve over his right arm and the snug fitting gym shorts with the prominent package on display.”
“Are you referring to the guy who keeps getting caught taking pics with his phone in the locker room?”
“I didn’t say he was an upstanding kind of guy,” Mitch returned. “And who cares if he’s a total perv? The dude is hotness on legs. The proverbial Italian stallion. I’m not saying you should go out with him, but he was asking about you. The point I’m making here is that if you can turn his head, you can turn plenty of others, ones who don’t take dick pics either.”
The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set Page 9
