Tipping the Balance (23 page)

“All the work, none of the glory?”

“And there’s no payoff. The training plan and strategy are the primary coach’s. If you’re lucky, he’ll consult you and let you in on his plans. If you’re not, you’re just a babysitter in a motorboat,” Brad said.

Drew looked at him shrewdly. “You miss it, don’t you?”

“I think I do,” Brad said. “I didn’t know it until just now, but yes, I miss it.”

“Maybe Nick’ll ask you,” Drew said.

“Why would he do that? I don’t know the first thing about coaching,” Brad said.

“Maybe not, but you know the sport and have a little time on your hands,” Drew said.

“Until that bid comes in,” Brad said, elbowing Drew. “Listen to you, Mr. Optimistic.”

Drew curled over protectively. “God, don’t start tickling me.”

But Brad wasn’t listening. With a devilish grin, he moved in for the kill, going right for the sensitive spots.

“Just because you—” Drew gasped, swatting at Brad’s hands. “Stop that. Just because you tickle me to distract me doesn’t change the fact that you’d be a good assistant coach.”

“Maybe,” Brad muttered, “but it’s not going to happen, so forget about it. The oversight committee has to approve hires, and besides, the money hasn’t even been set aside yet.”

“Okay, but consider this—the very fact that you’d be willing to do it might make this oversight committee of yours more likely to agree to it in the first place, and could even reassure the committee that one of its own would be in a position to keep an eye on things for them,” Drew suggested.

“I’d never spy on Coach Bedford for them!” Brad said, almost shouting.

Drew put his hands up. “I’m not saying you would, but they don’t need to know that, now do they?”

“No, I guess not,” Brad said, crossing his arms. “I just don’t like the thought of spying or all this sneaking around.”

“I know you don’t,” Drew said. Even though his heart was suddenly full of affection for Brad, the irony wasn’t lost on him. “That’s not who you are. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Brad smiled at Drew and then looked away. He quickly looked back at Drew, blushing. “I like that you see that about me.”

They looked at each other for a few more moments, and then Drew pulled Brad toward him. Brad sighed, resting his head on Drew’s lap, closing his eyes, the tension leaving his body.

Drew closed his eyes, too, for just a moment, enjoying the feeling of Brad’s head and shoulders and his lap. He was such a solid, reassuring presence, like his weight on Drew’s legs meant he’d be in Drew’s life for a while. Drew felt incredible tenderness at that moment, and he never wanted it to end. He tried not to think. He only wanted to experience that moment and that man.

Then Drew opened his eyes to see Brad looking up at him, a gentle expression on his face.

“Hi,” Brad said softly. “What’re you looking at?”

Drew blushed. “You.”

“Good,” Brad said. “I’d hate to think anything else could hold you.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Drew said. He smiled a goofy smile. He hated that, but Brad somehow just drew it out of him.

“Get down here. You look like you need to be kissed, and I know just the man for the job,” Brad said.

“Oh?” Drew said. “And who would that be?”

Drew figured maybe he’d already been a bad influence on Brad when Brad rolled his eyes and pulled his head down, but then their lips met and drove thought from his brain.

A few moments later, Drew straightened. “This is killing my neck.”

“You’re getting old,” Brad taunted.

Drew stuck his tongue out.

“Nice,” Brad said. He sat up and leaned in for another kiss.

Drew grabbed onto Brad and then pushed him over.

“Oooh, pushy,” Brad breathed.

“Making out’s easier if you’re not crushing the air out of me, you big doofus,” Drew said.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Brad said.

“Yeah, I’m terrified. Are you going to kiss me or what?” Drew said.

And then Drew lost track of time, spell-bound in near-total focus on the man underneath him. They kissed, and there was heat and wandering hands but none of the rolling around or threatened sex.

Drew kept going to play with Brad’s hair… which had been almost completely shaved off. He made a frustrated noise.

Brad figured it out quickly. “I’ll grow it out for you,” Brad said softly. “If you want. There’s probably enough left to make you happy.”

“I’m good,” Drew said.

“Yeah,” Brad said, smiling, “you are.”

Drew thought about what he was about to say for a moment. He didn’t want to spoil the moment, but he couldn’t avoid responsibility forever. He sat up and pulled Brad with him. Or tried, only tugging on one of the larger man’s arms.

“All right, all right, I’ll sit up. I had no idea you were so pushy,” Brad muttered.

“Technically, that was pulling,” Drew said.

“I bet you’re an expert puller… of something,” Brad said.

“Don’t get all cocky on me,” Drew said.

“That was bad,” Brad said, shaking his head.

Drew shrugged. “So.”

“So?” Brad echoed.

“So are you ready to get to work on the renovation? I’ve got another one starting, and Nick’s going back to school and coaching. He’s agreed to stick around for the first few days of this one to help you learn the ropes, but he’s pretty much over and out until next summer,” Drew said.

“Shit, are you kidding me?” Brad said.

Drew shook his head. “Nope, this is a perfect time. If—when—we get the bid, you’ll have some hands-on experience being in charge of these things. Even if we don’t, it’ll count as hands-on experience toward your contractor’s license.”

“I didn’t think it’d be this soon,” Brad said. “I don’t know the first thing—”

“Isn’t that the point of this? And don’t give me that, that’s your dad talking. I submitted our applications, remember? You know what you’re doing, you just need that piece of paper to prove it to everyone else,” Drew said.

Brad started to retort, then clamped his mouth shut, thinking for a few moments. “I still think you picked the wrong guy.”

“No,” Drew said, shaking his head, “I picked absolutely the right one.”

Drew
didn’t waste any time, Brad thought, walking up to a house in a decent part of town. He knew it was the right place because it was a hive of activity in the afternoon heat, even though it was the first day of a new renovation job, even though it was a Thursday.

Brad had bailed on the sales office as soon as his replacement had arrived, and he’d allowed himself time to pick up a sandwich before heading over. He’d wolfed it down, but looking at his watch, he saw that he still had ten minutes before he was supposed to meet Nick. But Nick’s car was already parked down the block, and Brad figured he’d better go in, since his former coach was back in school and back to coaching.

Brad got out of the car and stripped off his work shirt. He hadn’t thought to bring jeans or carpenter’s pants, so his chinos were just going to take a beating. He pulled on a T-shirt as he headed up to the house.

“Hello?” he called, opening the door. He knew no one was home. He knew the only people there were Nick and, presumably, the crew he’d shortly be supervising, but it felt weird just walking in. He guessed he’d get used to it.

“Brad? That you?” called a voice he recognized as belonging to Nick Bedford.

“Yep, in the flesh!” Brad called back, pretending he wasn’t nervous. That was stupid. Why should he be nervous around his old coach? Maybe because of what he’d been doing with his old coach’s best friend, he thought.

Brad didn’t think Nick could’ve changed in the few months since he’d last seen him, but somehow he had. He wasn’t taller or more buff or anything. Maybe a bit of a tan from time on the water. But there was just something about him. He was hotter, somehow.

And then Brad figured it out. Nick Bedford hadn’t changed. Brad had. How had he never noticed his coach before?

“Coach!” he said, injecting a note of hail-fellow-well-met he suddenly didn’t feel. He stuck a hand out. “How ya been?”

“Just fine,” Nick said, shaking Brad’s hand. He turned Brad’s hand over. “Getting soft, aren’t you?”

“I still erg,” Brad said defensively. “Sometimes. Besides, I’ll be roughing my hands up plenty here, it looks like.”

“Yeah, there’re certainly a lot of chances to cut your hands up in this line of work,” Nick said.

“No kidding. I’ve been working on my dad’s job sites since I was in high school,” Brad said.

Nick shook his head. “I can’t believe we went all those years of rowing without me figuring out you were from
that
Sundstrom family.”

“Well, we can’t help our relatives,” Brad muttered, wishing he could do just that. “Did you hear they put me on the oversight committee because of that boat Dad donated?”

“Drew told me,” Nick said.

And there it was.

Brad didn’t know how much Nick knew, but Brad had certainly pestered Morgan enough, and he just assumed boyfriends told each other things. Drew had also told Brad how much he’d gotten after Nick for Brad’s digits, so there was all kinds of room for gossip and misinformation.

“Right, so you’re going to show me around, introduce me to how Drew likes things done,” Brad said. Wait… was that a sex joke? As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

“Right,” Nick said. He coughed, and Brad figured he was just as uncomfortable. He held up a somewhat battered three-ring binder. “This here is ‘The Binder’, and it’s basically Drew’s brains for any given job.”

“Same binder for all jobs?” Brad asked, grateful Nick had said nothing more about his slip-up.

“Nope, one binder per job, name on the spine,” he said, holding it up to show Brad the homeowners’ name on it. “But Drew’s only just now growing, so it hasn’t really come up before,” Nick said. Then he froze.