Rush (9 page)

It’s obvious Alec picked the easiest of the trails. A couple months ago I could have done it in my sleep and even though I’m still making it now, there’s a burn in my chest and an ache in my leg muscles that would have never happened on a run this easy.

It doesn’t make me stop though.

There’s this war being battled inside me—the one side thrives on it. The burn is a welcome sign I’m working hard. Exercising or being on the field, those are the places I’m free. In some ways, it feels damn good to be free again but then I have that other side mocking me. It’s telling me this should be easier than it is and what if I can’t get past it? What if I can’t work up to where I need to be?

And what if I can? I’m scared to lose my level of physicality and afraid to get it back too. Then I have no choice but to keep lying to everyone and living football because if I don’t, who the fuck am I?

“Brand?” Alec keeps pace beside me.

“Don’t. Don’t ask if I’m okay.” My voice is breathless. The thought of Alec thinking he needs to question me on something this basic makes me push harder—my legs move faster.

“Can I ask if you want to go to the left or the right up at the V?”

Turning my head, I look at him, with this big, cheesy grin, his blond hair slightly sweat tinged, though not as much as mine. We don’t break pace as I reach over and shove him. “Fucker.”

Alec stumbles a little but doesn’t fall. “Just checking . . . Since I’m not allowed to ask you certain things there must be a script I don’t know about.” We both know left or right wasn’t what he was originally going to ask.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you.”

The look on his face changes, this sort of sadness creeping in. It kills me when he looks like that. It’s not him. He’s always happy and I’m not sure what caused the switch.

“I wish that was true,” he says.

Alec veers off to the right. My feet tangle a little but I keep on them, and go with him, following him in the way I can, wishing the same damn thing he is.

After a while, we loop around and jog back to the car. The longer we go the more I have to slow down but I refuse to let myself stop. It’s a simple fucking jog. I’m a football player. There’s no way I can’t do this.

When we get back to the car, I drop against it. Alec opens his pack and takes a drink of the last water bottle before handing it to me.

I down the whole thing.

“I gotta ask, man, but it’s because I’m worried. You feel okay? I mean, I know you’re tired because you have to build your stamina and stuff back up but . . . you don’t feel anything different do you? With your heart?”

I hate that he’s asking me but I’m honored by it too. I’d rather look weak in front of anyone in the fucking world than him . . . but he’s also the only place I feel comfortable enough to let my guard down. It’s exhausting, always feeling so conflicted around him.

“I’m good. It’s not really like that. I mean, it’s not a real heart condition. But yeah, I’m good. Just to be sure I had a couple monitored workout sessions back home. No problems.” And those were the only times I really did workout. I’m sure he knows that though.

Alec nods and goes to walk around to the other side of the car but on reflex, I reach up and rest my hand on the back of his neck before he can go. “Thanks for asking. And for taking me today.”

He nods and I rub my thumb through the wet hair at the nape of his neck before pulling away.

“We can keep it up if you want. Your body is used to being active, Brand. We can do it every day.”

The heaviness in my shoulders starts to slip away. I could see us doing that. We used to run around doing shit every day all summer. When I think about being with Alec, that fist doesn’t tighten around my gut like it does every time I tried to get back into shape alone. It’s like the way we used to be. Like he said last night . . . just that easily we’re us.

“The NFL has always been your plan. You can’t do that if you don’t start training again.”

I feel my lips tug into a smile. A big smile that I’m sure looks cheesy.

“What are you smiling at, dumb-ass?” Alec pushes at my shoulder.

“You didn’t say it’s been my dream. You said it’s my plan.” Dream? Plan? The word in a way has the same meaning for me.

“That’s because I know you.”

My fingers flex, begging to touch him. My mind starts spinning, wanting to talk to him. To pretend none of that shit of the past happened but all of the good did. “Come on. Let’s go back to your place.”

The drive is quick and I don’t let myself think too much on the way there. I know I can get shot down, I know he might have plans or maybe that fucker Logan is coming over, all of which would serve me right but I don’t let it stop me from voicing what I want. “I’m not ready to go back. I just want to chill with you. Will you let me come up?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know the answer to that. Come on. I have burgers and a grill on my patio. We can barbecue or something.”

He gets out of the car and then I do the same. “Hell no. You’re not touching the grill. Remember when we went camping? That shit looked like charcoal when you finished with it.”

“Screw you. I was like five.”

After grabbing my bag out of the backseat, I slam the door. “You were seventeen.”

Alec gets a look on his face that tells me he’s up to something. “A guy can learn a lot between then and now. Gets better at a lot of things too.”

Holy shit, he’s going to fucking kill me. “You do that a whole hell of a lot more than you used to.” It’s sexy as hell too.

Alec winks.

His apartment complex is a little older but nice. We take the concrete steps up to his place on the second floor. I wait as Alec opens the door, still shocked that we’re here. After everything we’re . . . not together again, if what we were you could consider that. We thought of ourselves that way. Now we’re probably too old to think that way. Especially since we haven’t really talked about anything, and because regardless, I’ll be back in Ohio in August. Back to being number forty-three.

Alec throws his keys on the table and sets the backpack on one of the chairs. He’s still not wearing a shirt, corded muscles running the length of his arms but they’re nothing compared to the rest of him. He’s more lithe than I am.

“I stink. You cool if I take a quick shower? You can use it after me.”

I set my bag on the table. “Yeah. No problem. Wasn’t sure how much longer I could deal with the smell anyway.”

“Ha ha. You got jokes now?”

“I’ve always had them.” I step closer to him. “I make you laugh.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “I’m going now. Make yourself at home, yeah?”

When he leaves, I pull my cell out of my pocket and call my brother. It’s already six and I’m hoping like hell he and Charlie don’t need the car back right now.

“Hey.” Nate answers on the third ring. “What’s up?”

“Do you need your car back right away?” I feel like a loser having to borrow his vehicle—like I’m asking permission to be out.

“No, we’re just chillin’ here. Charlotte wants to go out with her telescope tonight.” She’s in school for astronomy.

“So you’re cool if I keep it a while longer?” It’s weird as hell talking to him when he’s knows I’m with Alec. When Nate found out about us, it was only a couple months before I broke things off with him. Nate and Charlie were heading back to Virginia from New York so even though he knows everything, there’s only been a few times when Alec and I have been together with Nate in the know—the night he first found out about us and Mom went into early labor with Joshua, when Alec came after my heart surgery, and now.

“Keep it as long as you want!” Charlie yells, obviously right next to Nate and listening in.

I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” Charlie replies.

Laughing, I say, “You wanna put her on the phone or what, man?”

“She’s already texting Alec.”

“It’s not . . . we’re not . . .” Excuses automatically start trying to fall out of my mouth but I fight to hold them back.
This is my brother. He knows. It’s okay.
And hell, it feels good for someone to know. To be able to say I’m staying with Alec the way I’ve always envied Nate can do with Charlie.

But Charlie is his . . . Alec isn’t mine.

Tired of overthinking things, I push all my thoughts aside. This is Nate. “We went for a jog and now we’re going to grill some burgers or something. It’s not what you think. I mean, we’re friends. I have training in August.”

My brother pauses and I automatically wonder if I grossed him out. If he doesn’t want me to talk to him about Alec at all.

“That’s six weeks away, bro. Every summer Charlie and I knew we’d have to say good-bye but that didn’t stop us from taking advantage of the time we had. You . . . you deserve a little bit of happiness. You both do.”

I don’t know what makes me do it—how I find the words. Maybe I’m tired of holding it all in or maybe it’s what Nate said or all the things Alec and I have talked about. I lean against Alec’s kitchen table and speak. “I want to be happy. I just . . . I want to just
be
. That probably doesn’t make any fucking sense but . . . I want to be normal.” A deep breath leaves my lungs. “With him.”

“Then do it. Whatever you have to do or however you have to do it. Fucking find a way. You know we’ll always be there for you, no matter what. Mom and Dad will too.”

A click sounds from down the hallway, before Alec rounds the corner out of the bathroom. He shakes his head and I watch as his blond hair flies up before settling messily on his head. He’s wearing a pair of red basketball shorts, still without a shirt.

And he is so fucking gorgeous.

“I want him happy too . . .” I whisper. “I gotta go. I’ll see you soon.” Before Nate replies, I click end on the call.

“There’s towels in the cabinet by the sink. Sometimes the nob sticks but—” Alec stops dead, studying me—dissecting me as though he sees the thoughts in my mind as I form them. “What?”

My whole body is hyped up like someone injected adrenaline into me. I want nothing more than to push him against the wall. To take his mouth and whatever else he would give me, so at least once, he could fully be mine.

But that’s always what I do when it comes to him, isn’t it? I broke up with him because it was better for me. Hurting him isn’t an option again.

“Nothing.” I step away from the table. “Talked to Nate. You know how he can be.”

“Yeah. I used to dream about kicking his ass every summer. I might not have really been in love with Charlie like everyone thought, but I didn’t think he was good for her either.”

He steps around me, no clue that I really don’t want to talk about Charlie, Nate, or anyone else. I just want him.

“Like I said, sometimes the faucet sticks on the shower. Pull it hard and it’ll come on.” Alec goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge.

“Okay.” As much as I hate it, all I can think is maybe that’s a sign for me to relax. Before I say anything to him—when really I don’t even know where in the hell to start—I need to cool off. A cold shower is the best place I can think to start.

By the time Brandon gets out of the shower, I’m sitting in one of the two chairs on my balcony. It’s small so there’s not a lot of room. My grill is in the right corner, and then the two chairs on the other side, no more than five feet away from the barbecue. The charcoal just turned gray enough for me to put the burgers on.

There’s beer left from when Logan was here so before Brand comes out, I call through the sliding screen door, “There’s beer in the fridge if you want one.”

“Thanks.” His words drift through the house hitting me with this ridiculous sense of shock that Brandon Chase is in my apartment right now. When he called things off, it was like someone carved my heart out of my chest. Yeah, dramatic but true. I knew, when he had the balls to do that, I
knew
we were done.

And we still are. That knowledge is in the back of my head. We don’t have a future. I know Brandon. He’s going to work his ass off and he’ll play ball again and he won’t ever come out to his team.

And yet, he’s here and I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact.

When the screen squeaks behind me, I lean forward so Brandon can get past me to sit in the other chair, before putting my feet up on the railing. It’s a battle to resist the urge to glance over at him and see what he’s wearing.

“Burgers on?” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him take a drink of beer.

“Yep. I got my own special seasoning too. They’ll kick ass and then you’ll regret ever talking shit to me about grilling.”

Brandon laughs, before nudging my arm. “I was teasing you. You can’t take a joke anymore?”

This time, I don’t stop myself from looking over. His brown eyes are on me, with what I’ve always thought looks like gold highlights in them. “I can take it.”

Those highlights look like they were lit on fire. “You’re doing that shit on purpose.”

“What?” I tease.

“Fuck you. You’re a guy. You know exactly how my head automatically took that.”

At that, I laugh. “Sorry if your
head
can’t handle it.” My eyes dart to his crotch before I stand, ready to flip the food. Brandon reaches his hand out but before he makes contact with my arm, he seems to realize what he’s doing and drops it.

If we’d been inside, he would have pulled me to him. Those first summers we spent together the touches were less frequent, more nervous. But at the end, when we managed to sneak away so it was only the two of us, we weren’t afraid to put our hands on each other.

I wonder if it’s like that for everyone. If people in love want to feel the other person all the time like we did.

Hell, maybe it didn’t mean anything and we were just horny but also too chicken shit to do much about it.

After flipping the burgers I sit back down next to him. The sun’s getting lower but it’s still hot out. Brand’s wearing another T-shirt and shorts that hang below his knees.

“Are you embarrassed by your scar?” I ask him.

“No.” He takes a drink of his beer. “You know me better than that. I’m not that superficial.” Another drink. “I don’t like to look at it. It reminds me of everything—that I could have died, that I’m scrawny as hell now—”

“You’re not scrawny.”

“For me, I am. And that I have to work up to do shit I used to do easily. That I could lose football.”

“Would you really hate to lose it?” As soon as the question comes out, I know it’s stupid.

“Fuck yeah. Even you would hate to lose it. That means you don’t have a choice. That something was taken away from you. No matter what, Al, you know there’s a part of me who loves to play.”

And that’s true. It’s his passion.

“But you don’t feel like it’s a game you’re playing, you think it defines you. I also know as much as you love the game, you hate that piece of it.”

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.” He sighs.

That’s a lie. He was good at being with me. “What else have you tried?” Pushing to my feet, I say, “I’ll be right back.”

Inside I pull out the buns before grabbing the tomato slices out of the fridge. There are a few hamburger pickles in a jar so I set them on the counter too, followed by the mustard and mayo.

Because dishes suck, I pick a few paper plates off the stack and then head back outside. “Forty-five seconds and they’ll be ready to pull off.”

Brandon huffs. “Got it down to the seconds now, huh?”

“Watch and see.” When the time is up, I raise the lid off the grill and put the burgers on the plate. “Wait till you taste these.”

Brandon reaches around me and slides the screen open for me.

“Thanks,” I mumble before leading the way inside. We make our burgers in the kitchen. I don’t have anything except potato chips to go with them, so I take those out and Brandon nods his head toward them, waiting for me to take a handful out before he does.

“I’ll grab you another beer.” He opens the fridge and takes two out and then we’re on the balcony again.

There’s no table but neither of us hesitates to put the plates on our laps. Like an idiot, I wait for him to take a bite before I eat. After he swallows I raise an eyebrow at him and Brandon says, “Okay, so you
might
be able to barbecue now.”

“That’s what I thought.” I lean back into the chair to start eating, and I can’t help but feel . . . content.

It’s dark out now, the porch light above us making it so we can see. We’ve been out here for hours, the only thing either of us has gone inside for is something to drink, take a piss or when I grabbed a shirt to keep the mosquitoes from eating me alive.

We’ve talked about everything and nothing too. Nothing big, and everything small but the conversation has hardly stopped the whole time. We’ve always been like that. I wonder if it’s because we keep one of the most important pieces of ourselves quiet from the world, so we can’t help but want to talk about everything when we’re together.

There’s a slight lull in the conversation now and I can’t stop thinking of the fact that we haven’t been like this in years. When he goes back to Ohio, we’ll never be like this again.

We were together and then the next thing I knew he forced me to walk away from him. One day he was fine and the next they’d cut his chest open to do surgery on his heart. It makes you think. Makes you realize how fast shit changes.

“I don’t want to spend my summer working with my dad, man. I know that’s messed up but I don’t.”

“Screw that. It’s not fucked up. I hate the way he is with you.”

I shrug even though I’m not sure if he’s looking at me. My eyes are forward, looking at the stars Charlie loves so much. “It’s really not that bad. I know he loves me. He’s not abusive . . . just ignorant and outspoken, which don’t go well together.”

Brandon doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “That’s what stresses me out. I know he loves me. I’m his son and we’ve always been close. It’s just the older I got, when I started to realize I was gay, I noticed more things about him I hated. I did more things he didn’t understand. The thing is . . .” I take a deep breath. “I’m not going to keep doing this, ya know? I don’t want to hide forever. I’m not saying I’ll be ready to come out tomorrow but I know it will be soon and when I do, I know he really will hate me. I’m scared the more I’m around him, the more I’ll think about that. I’m afraid I’ll start to hate him and I’m not ready for that to happen yet.”

“Shit . . . I’m sorry.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Brandon moves. I think he’s switching positions but then I feel his slightly callused hand on the back of my neck. It’s dark out, and my balcony is closed off enough that no one can really see us. It feels so damn good to have him reach over and touch me without holding back because he wants to be there for me.

“You are so fucking brave. Do you know that? So brave. And he won’t hate you, Al. How could anyone hate you?”

I chuckle a little, before I let my eyes drift closed. I take a couple deep breaths before I open them again, and try to lighten the mood. “Your brother hated me.”

“That’s because he thought you wanted to fuck Charlie.”

“Yeah I guess it changes things now that he knows I really want to fuck his brother.”

Brandon groans, his grip tightening on my neck, and then it’s gone and I’m pissed because I think he’s pulling back. He grabs my arm when he stands. I go easily with him but then jerk free from his hold. “Chill the hell out. No one heard me. You didn’t have to pull me up.”

Roughly, I push the screen door open and go inside. White-hot anger burns a hole through me. What was I thinking that I could be honest with him? That he wouldn’t find a way to freak out.

The glass door slams behind me. “Did you mean it?” Brandon bites out.

Oh . . . shit. At that I whip around to face him. “Is that really a question?”

I see it in his eyes—see him want to laugh at what I said but his lips don’t move. His chest heaves in and out. Hell, I think mine is too.

“Last night I tried to kiss you and you told me you were still pissed.”

“Part of me still is but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you. You remember what you said to me? That you wanted some part of me. You don’t think I want whatever I can have of you too? Come on, Brand. You’re not stupid.”

My feelings are this weird jumble of . . . well, fucked up. Is there a part of me who’s scared to screw around with him? Yeah. I know I’m gay but doing more than simple touching or kissing, that means there’s no going back. I really am gay. I think that’s part of the reason I freaked with Logan but that doesn’t mean I’m not horny as hell. No guy wants to be a twenty-year-old virgin. With him it’s a million times stronger, this constant buzz zipping around under my skin just because it’s
Brandon
. Everything is stronger with him.

He’s still standing there, chest surging in out and, his eyes hard on me.

“You know what? Never mind. I—” My words are cut off by his lips crushing mine. It’s quick, urgent, desperate and our teeth clink together. But then my lips part and he pushes his tongue inside and I’m trying to do the same to him.

Our mouths battle. His hands cup either side of my face as I push mine up under his shirt, wanting to feel him—flesh-covered steel.

Brandon pushes forward and I stumble backward. My foot tangles on the leg of the coffee table and I almost fall, but then Brandon’s pushing it out of the way with his foot. Back . . . back . . . back, he continues moving forward, making me fall but the couch catches me, Brandon coming down on top of me.

He laughs and I can’t help but do the same.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Didn’t want you to change your mind.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, before whispering, “Please don’t change your mind.” A kiss to the other side. “I want you so much.”

My dick is so hard I feel like I’m going to explode. But yeah . . . it’s more than that. “I want you too.”

This time, it’s my mouth pushing against his. My tongue parting his lips. I lean forward and Brandon seems to read my mind, pushing up too. Our mouths don’t part. He has one knee on the couch. His other leg is on the opposite side of me, his foot on the floor like he’s straddling me but still able to hold himself up. He’s slightly sitting on me. When I have enough room between myself and the couch, I pull my mouth off his. Brandon pushes my hands out of the way when I start to go for my shirt, and then he’s lifting it and pulling it over my head.

He doesn’t hesitate to go for his next, throwing it somewhere on the ground before he’s kissing me again.

This time I purposely fall back and he’s comes down right on top of me, the hot skin of his chest against mine.

Brandon’s mouth slides down my neck, and each time he moves, I feel the roughness of his scar, reminding me what happened.

I squeeze him tighter, my hand in his hair and then his tongue runs up the side of my neck. “I love the taste of your skin.”

My cock jerks. “Holy shit. Don’t say stuff like that or I’m going to embarrass myself.”

He just chuckles and then kisses me again, his tongue sweeping my mouth.

I move my hips and when I do, my dick brushes against his. Brandon jerks his mouth away, “Oh fuck,” huskily comes out of his mouth; at the same time, I hiss.

So close. I’m already so damn close.

Brandon’s bottom half is flat against mine. One of his arms is holding him up a little, making the muscles move and constrict and it’s so hot.

He smiles down at me and it makes more lust shoot through me. He’s so gorgeous and he looks . . . happy.

And then he’s moving. Each time he nudges his hips into me, our cocks rub together and it’s like the epicenter of everything I feel. It tells my body it’s the most incredible thing that’s ever happened and I swear I feel that touch everywhere.

Pulling him toward me, I open my mouth when his comes down on mine again. My hips are matching his rhythm now, each of us moving together, rubbing each other off.

I run my hand down his back. His muscles working and he’s thrusting harder each time. I want to slow down, want to hold it back because I really need this feeling to last forever.

Brandon moves again, his cock thrusting against mine, right as he nips at my bottom lip.

“Oh fuck.” I can’t stop the orgasm from slamming into me.

In. My. Shorts.

Then Brandon’s tensing over me mumbling something that sounds like it’s a different language or some shit and I know he just lost it too.

We’re both sweaty and he lets himself drop down onto me. He’s heavy but there’s nothing in me that would ask him to move. The weight feels good. Feels right.

His breath is in my ear, neither of us talking before he pants, “You losing it like that wasn’t embarrassing. It was fucking hot.”

And he’s right but hell, that whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than maybe five minutes.

Still . . . “It was incredible.”

Brandon leans up a little. Touches my hair. Quickly presses his lips to mine. “It was perfect.”