At some pointI’d look away and stop stealing second glances at Pearce talking to the dark-haired guy. If Pearce wanted to hook up, it was his prerogative. Hell, it was the reason why whenever I headed into Minneapolis to take in one of his home games, I generally stayed in a hotel.
The last thing I wanted was to stop my friend’s ability to get laid. It didn’t matter that even the thought made my stomach curdle, a reaction I was used to but doggedly ignored and denied.
A text alert caught my attention. Probably a good thing, as the hot guy cozying up with Pearce had placed a hand on his forearm. While it was simple, seemingly innocent contact, they were just a few beats away from making out.
Shaking my head at my ridiculousness, I checked my phone, in case it was from my daughter. Not that she should be anywhere near her phone at this time of night, but still. I sighed when I saw Wayne’s name. Not the best reaction to receiving a message from the guy I was supposedly dating, but he acted ridiculously assholishly whenever I left town to watch one of Pearce’s games.
It didn’t matter that nothing ever had happened between me and Pearce. Not only was he my best friend, but he was too young for my old ass.
I rolled my eyes when I read the question asking if I was still out.
“Who’s that from?”
I jerked as heat pressed against my side with the appearance of Pearce. Flicking my gaze in the direction of where he’d been flirting with the hot guy, I frowned when the brown-haired man was no longer in sight. “Huh?” I angled to look at him. With Pearce sitting so close, it was hard to get a full read of his expression, but apparently he found my confusion amusing.
“Why are you sitting here texting rather than dancing?”
With a tilt of my chin, I shot my right brow high. Pearce knew full well I didn’t dance. “I’m not texting. Was just checking my phone and making sure it wasn’t Lottie.” At the mention of my girl’s name, Pearce’s gaze softened.
“She okay?” The lilt of concern tickled my chest, just like it always did when he got all soft and sweet about my daughter.
“It wasn’t her, and she better be tucked up fast asleep in bed.” She was staying at one of her friends’ house tonight. Thank Christ for that collection of moms who always put their hands up for sleepovers. I wouldn’t be here without that special breed of parent.
He bobbed his head and shifted on the booth seat to see me more fully. “So who had you frowning? Has Wayne got lice again? Good of him to give you a heads-up.”
I worked hard not to laugh, but I couldn’t stop the slight twitching of my lips. Wayne and Pearce had a love-hate relationship. In as much as they loved to hate each other. From the day they’d met, Wayne was suspicious about my friendship with Pearce. He couldn’t understand why I was best friends with someone so much younger than me, for a start. There was no doubt jealousy there too. Not only was Pearce underwear-model-material smoking hot—his deal with CK gave him that status—but he was at the top of his basketball career. Tonight’s incredible game being no exception.
And Pearce. Well, his dislike for Wayne stemmed from his argument that he didn’t think Wayne was good enough for me, and by association Lottie. His feelings for me may have something to do with his animosity too, but for my own sanity, it was best not to think about that.
“He’s just checking in, making sure I’m having a good time,” I lied. It wasn’t like I was protecting Wayne; rather, I didn’t want to be talking about him on my night away from reality.
Pearce’s snort made it clear he wasn’t buying it. “Tonight’s screw must have been a disappointment if he’s up in your business.”
I winced, hating that he was probably right.
“Shit,” he was quick to say. “You know I’m being an asshat. I’m sorry, yeah?” He reached out and squeezed my knee, gaze raking over my face.
I forced a smile, not wanting to get into this with him. Wayne wasn’t cheating. His announcement that he wanted an open relationship a while back prevented that. And at the end of the day, for all my ill-thought-out reactions, I’d agreed. In this scenario, I was the chump who didn’t want the drama of ending a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s fine. Or it will be when another beer appears in my hand.”
For a moment, it didn’t seem like Pearce was going to let it go, which he usually didn’t, but whatever he read on my face had him pulling his lips between his teeth. With a huff of breath, his shoulders relaxed. “I can do that, but get your ass up and join me at the bar.”
An easy smile formed on my mouth. “Shift your butt, then.”
He scooted out of the booth, and I followed, hot on his heels. It had been a while since we’d had drinks with his teammates after a game—the two of us usually slipped away for a quiet dinner and a few beers. That sounded way more couple-y than it was, but I liked spending time with him, a lot. Did that mean I monopolized his time when I had the chance? Damn straight. I was the first person to call myself out for being a selfish asshole.
When we reached the bar, we stopped next to a few of his teammates. They were laughing and talking about something or other Cassius had said or done.
“—lit up like the fourth of July.” Cassius grinned and bounced his brows. “Fucking spectacular.”
A couple of the guys snorted while Ollie, the Eagles’ captain, rolled his eyes. “One of these times you’re going to land your ass in jail and get benched.”
“Ollie,” Cassius answered with a shake of his head, “I’ve talked myself out of so much shit I should have been locked away for. Fireworks in my high school coach’s office was nothing.”
“Dear God,” Ollie groaned, “for the love of all that is holy, do not do that to Coach Jenkins.”
“Me?” Cassius even pressed his hand to his chest and widened his eyes for good measure. “I like my balls attached to my body, fuck you very much. Coach would cut them off if I pulled any of that shit.”
“I’d pass him the tweezers and the itty-bitty blade to help,” Pearce said from my side. The group laughed, and Cassius flipped him off.
“Fuck you, Malcolm. Whatever size blade veterinarians use for an elephant or whatever would be the only blade that could cut it.”
Pearce’s barb was instant. “Damn, is that why you’re still not able to do a slam dunk after all this time? Your oversized balls? Shit, Cass, maybe it’s time we intervene and organize a medical consult for you.”
“Whatever, man. My balls are perfect specimens. I’m thinking about getting them insured.”
“Fucking hell.” Ollie wiped a hand over his face, then met my gaze. “Bet you’re wishing you’d hermitted our boy away tonight rather than dealing with these dicks.” He followed up with an amused smile.
Ignoring how it most definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed by Pearce’s team that I did tend to steal their teammate away after a game, I returned his smile. “It’s a healthy reminder of what I’m missing out on.”
“Missing out on?” Ollie raised his brows, smirking. “More like a ‘thank fuck this part of your life is over.’”
I snorted. “Well, I don’t miss having a coach ride my ass or—”
“Who’s riding your ass?” Pearce’s bicep pressed against mine. Whether he was aware or not, when we were together, he was tactile… seriously so. Not that it was a hardship. At some point over the past five years, he’d used his voodoo skills and trained me to not only crave his touches, but damn if he hadn’t gone and trained me to do the same thing with him, and only him.
“Not you,” Cassius spat, laughing loudly, while I snorted good-naturedly, trying not to think about what it would be like for Pearce to ride my ass.
Pearce flipped his friend off.
“Talking of riding asses, what happened to that guy who was rubbing up all over you?” Cassius pushed. I’d been thinking the same thing, despite the curdling in my stomach.
“He wasn’t rubbing up all over me. Not sure what skanks you’re getting with, but that’s not for me,” Pearce fired back, voice light and breezy.
I frowned and risked a glance at him, noticing pink in his cheeks that belied just how carefree he’d attempted to sound.
“Since when?” Cassius challenged. “And dude, no skank shaming.”
A laugh rumbled out of Pearce, and he raised his hands. “My bad. There’s nothing wrong with skanks.” He cleared his throat before saying, “I was just talking to the guy is all. He’s a fan.”
Innuendo dripped off Cassius’s words when he said, “I just bet he is.” He then made a show of looking around before settling his attention back on Pearce. “Actually, where’s your usual hookup?”
I swallowed hard, knowing exactly who Pearce’s “usual hookup” was. He actually seemed like a decent guy. Not that I wanted to hang out with the reporter, especially if he was getting it on with Pearce.
Fuck, I hated being such a double-standard dick, but Pearce and I didn’t get together half as much as I liked—living states apart made that hard—which meant when we did, I wanted him all to myself. Seriously, referring to myself as a selfish prick was just the tip of the iceberg.
“How should I know?” Pearce said, arm still pressed against mine. “I haven’t seen him for a while. Well, not seenhim seen him.”
This was news to me. Not that we discussed his hookup or Wayne all that much. We had a mutual unspoken rule about not talking about other men. It didn’t mean I wasn’t morbidly curious, though.
“Huh” came from Cassius, and I didn’t miss the flash of something—a warning maybe—Pearce shot his way.
The bartender appeared before us and took our order. While we waited, I nudged Pearce. “You good?” I couldn’t help but feel like I’d missed something in all that.
He angled toward me, resting a forearm on the bar. “A win and a beer with my best bud? Hell yes. Of course I’m okay.” With nothing but sincerity in his gaze or his tone, I relaxed. He didn’t look put out over not hooking up with that guy. “You okay staying for this, then heading out?”
“We can stay if you want to hang with your team.” I could be magnanimous when I wanted to be.
“I’d prefer to catch up with you instead. You not getting in till this afternoon meant we missed out on last night’s slumber party.”
I snorted. “You’re such a dickhead. But yeah, having to meet today with the foundation was important, but I would have appreciated it a whole lot more if it had been another day.”
He bobbed his head and took a pull of his drink. “How is everything with the foundation?”
“Going great. Pride Youth is going strong. We’ve got more sponsorships and have finalized a visit to the summer academy again.” I’d been involved in the LGBTQ+ youth foundation going on seven years, having first met one of the foundation’s directors when doing a stint at Montview during the elite basketball training camp.
“Excellent. Just let me know if you need anything, yeah?”
Warmth flooded me at his offer. “You already do plenty.” It was true. Since his first season at Montview as a guest trainer five years ago, not only had he been offered a regular seasonal spot, but he’d also involved himself in Pride Youth when he’d discovered my connection.
“I do a bit, but you know if I can, I’ll always do more.”
I leaned against him at the bar, nudging him gently, giving him my silent thanks. What continued to amaze me was that while he could easily write a check for them, he preferred being actively involved.
Pearce sure did tend to go all in when invested.
No Backing Down #4
CHAPTER 1
DYLAN
AGED 15
Sittingon the muddy bank with my feet in the water, I grinned over at Cassius. He stood, holding his rod, gently reeling in his catch. A wide smile stretched across his lips as he gazed at the moving line.
“Looks like a big one,” I said with a chuckle, focusing on the splashes.
“That’s what he said.” His response was quick, just like it usually was, the amusement there but disappearing a second later as I jolted in surprise at his words, head turning quickly toward him.
He.He said he.
Wide-eyed, Cassius stared at me, color in his cheeks and a look in his eyes I’d only seen once before. Fear. That time was when he’d stolen a bottle of vodka from his folks’ liquor cabinet, only to realize a little too late that there was no chance his parents would believe a raccoon got into the house and knocked the bottle over, hence the reason the bottle was empty and in the garbage.
No, sir. Not in our bellies.
“The line.”
My words snapped him out of the silent stare off, but it was too late for his catch. The line went slack, the fish having wriggled off, making its escape.
Continuing to stare out at the water, my pulse loud in my ears, I held my breath. Aware of every movement my best friend made, I waited. Waited for him to make a joke. Waited for him to address the giant mammoth between us.
Was it a slip? Was it a jesting?
And still I waited.
At the clearing of his throat, I finally sucked in air, the action loud and shuddery.
“So yeah….” Sitting beside me, our shoulders brushing like they always tended to do when we were together, Cassius trailed off.
Discomfort rolled off him. I felt it in the tension of his arm against mine. Realized it in the shuffling of his ass as he went to put some distance between us.
Reacting on instinct, I clamped down on his forearm and finally angled to glance his way.
His deep brown eyes were wide, the strange fear in them easy for me to read. Because of course it was. But I didn’t like that particular emotion one bit.
Cassius and I spent almost every waking moment together. We had for years.
We knew almost—almost—everything about each other.
He. He said he.
Punching out “Holy shit,” I held him tighter. I couldn’t let go. Couldn’t organize my words fast enough.
The terror I saw staring back at me every time I looked at myself in the mirror splintered. Cracked wide open. It usually sat heavily on my chest. A dense boulder that threatened to catch my breath and make it disappear for good.
How could it not?
My parents—
Fuck, I couldn’t even think about them without breaking out into a sweat of self-hatred and loathing.
But this was Cassius.
MyCass.
He was the brother I never had. My best friend always.
The one person who I knew I could finally share my truth with.
“Dylan.”
The worry in his tone snapped me out of my spiral. Though it did nothing to calm my pulse or my fast breaths as they sawed out of me.
“I’m gay.”
The wind caught my words, so quiet, almost whispered, but so loud in the couple of inches between us.
A moment of stillness. Of absolute quiet. Even the flowing water of the Zumbro River didn’t truly register.
The flare of understanding in his eyes had me catching my breath.
Fuck. What if I was wrong? What if it was a joke?
I swallowed hard, reminding myself this was Cassius. Even if he wasn’t… even if he had been joking around, he wouldn’t push me away, right? Wouldn’t share my secret in our small-ass town.
The barest of movements had me bracing.
I landed on my back, a heavy grunt shooting from my mouth at Cass’s weight.
A whoosh of breath later, relief, pure and oh so joyous, raced through me.
Cass hugged me hard. With his face buried in my neck and the gentle brush of his breath against my skin, I felt him grin. Right before I heard his words. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Tears burned my eyes as I wrapped my arms around him, right here on the muddy bank of the river, in our favorite fishing spot. Unable to speak, I hugged him hard, hugged him so tightly that he started to chuckle.
“Can’t. Breathe.”
“Shit.” My arms slackened, and I reluctantly let him go.
As he pulled away, I kept my gaze on him, needing to see his face. Needing to see the truth of his reaction for myself.
A tender smile and warm eyes. Just seeing them loosened my muscles even more.
“I’m pretty sure I’m bi.”
My eyebrows shot up at his words. They damn well nearly touched my hairline at the deep pink flooding his brown cheeks. Embarrassment and Cassius in the same sentence didn’t compute.
My best friend could be a cocky, self-assured asshole.
Truth was, he put on that mask every single day when we were around others.
He was Cass, the basketball captain. Cass, the guy who was already being watched closely by colleges, despite that, when going back to school after the summer break, we’d just be sophomores.
He was also Cass, the handsome guy who always had girls trailing after him and all the guys wanting to be his friend.
Because along with all that, he was good and kind.
But he was also Cass, one of ten Black kids in our school. He was also Cass, who dealt with ignorance every day. That shit exhausted him and pissed him off more than he let on. Well, to anyone other than me.
“Pretty sure?” I asked, my brain coming online.
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I know there’s a shitload of queer labels, and bi seems to fit.”
A huff of a laugh escaped me, the exchange surreal.
“And you’re gay?”
Heat burned my cheeks as I nodded. “Yeah.”
He studied me, gaze roaming my face, a concentration in his gaze that threatened to make me squirm. “So when you kissed Zoe last year?”
Embarrassed, I rubbed a hand over my face. “Gross and awkward.”
At his gentle chuckle, I glanced at him.
“I bet. Did you already know by then?”
I swallowed hard, my heart flipping around a little, still not believing the secret that had held me terrified and frozen for so long was finally out there. I felt light, like I’d been filled with helium and could float away at any second.
“Sort of suspected over the last couple of years. I suppose I wanted to be sure.”
With his brow drawn low, Cass looked perplexed. Once again, he studied me. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel able to tell me till now.”
Emotion clawed at my throat. “You’re a fucking asshole.”
“What?” A burst of confused, incredulous laughter joined his question. “Why?”
“You.” I laughed, the sound watery, my vision blurry. I shook my head, not hiding my reaction from him. When we made eye contact, he smiled softly and reached out and squeezed my arm.
My eyes almost closed at his reassuring touch. I’d been so terrified I’d lose him, that this one simple gesture would be my undoing as a fresh wave of relief trapped in my throat.
“You,” I started again, but it was no good; I had to clear my throat. “Thank you for being an asshole.”
His lips twitched. “A bi asshole.” He bounced his eyebrows. “This revelation puts a whole new meaning to assholes.”
I shoved at him, laughing loudly. His ridiculousness wiped away my threatening tears.
As we stared at each other, each grinning, nothing but relief and contentment between us, I tilted my head, sobering a little. At the change in my expression, Cass’s amusement faded, though a small smile remained on his lips.
“I’m not ready to tell anyone yet.”
Understanding filled his gaze, and he bobbed his head. “Your folks are going to lose their shit.”
An understatement if ever there was one.
Lose their shit? More like get me locked away and their church group gathered around me to call forth the devil from my soul or some bullshit.
“You come out when you’re ready. You know I’ve always got your back. Friends forever, right?” He held out his hand, and I just knew he was going to do the tricky handshake we’d invented when we were eight—a series of taps, fist bumps, and ending in a shoulder check. One we created in solidarity after a particularly nasty confrontation with Christopher Fuckface on the playground, whose whole family were racist fucks.
The day they’d left town and moved to Florida had been one we’d celebrated.
We did our epic handshake. “Friends forever.” I grinned and hugged him tightly before we picked up our rods and tried to catch some trout for dinner.
