“Come on,” Jason said, slapping me on the back. “Let’s take our beating.”
When I stood up, my eyes went immediately to Axel. The sight of him in a basketball jersey and shorts practically knocked me over. I couldn’t help but watch his muscular arm casually work the ball. Damn.
He lifted his chin in a subtle greeting. Then he turned his back on me and shot, sinking a perfect three-pointer.
Showoff. I buried my smile as the volunteer ref blew his whistle. “Let’s go, ladies,” he called. “I have a date after this.”
“Well, let’s not keep her waiting,” growled Boz, the big ex-football player on the athletic department’s team. He couldn’t jump for shit, but he was big enough to get in the way at all the worst moments. He and Axel lined up for the tip-off, and I wondered how they got along at work. Boz looked like a meathead, but Axel had told me he was a good guy. And there was something jolly about his demeanor that suggested he might not have any time for intolerance.
Not everyone in the world was a dick like my father. But growing up in his house made me mistrustful, and I didn’t know if I’d ever get over that.
I was still puzzling over this when the ref tossed the ball, and Axel won the tip-off. Of course he did. He batted it to their boss—an older guy—who passed to Boz. Axel moved into position to receive the ball, so of course I lunged in to block him.
And just like that, time rolled backward.
We jockeyed for position. I leaned in, trying to cover Axel’s stretch with my slightly longer but less-skilled reach. He huffed out a laugh, and I felt myself grow younger. We were fourteen again and innocent. There was nothing but the polished wooden floor, the ball, the hoop and the squeak of rubber as we vied for the ball.
Our team got the ball away from Axel, and play raced to the other end of the court. Jason passed to me, and Axel was like a wall on wheels. Everywhere I turned, he thwarted me. Finally, he fouled me as I tried to break through.
The whistle blew and we were both panting. Axel wiped sweat off his brow, his chest expanding visibly. When his eyes met mine, they sparkled with a love of the game, and a silent acknowledgment that we’d done this before.
I put my feet behind the free-throw line and sank my first shot.
“Not bad for a geek,” Axel said under his breath.
Biting my lip to avoid smiling at him, I sank the second one.
The next twenty-odd minutes flew by. When the ref blew the whistle after the first half, I could hardly believe it. Walking over to my stuff, I grabbed my water bottle and took a long pull.
“You’re on fire tonight,” Jason said. “Seriously. Somebody ate his Wheaties today.”
“It was that extra cup of coffee.” But that wasn’t even close to the truth. It was just so much fun to go up against Axel. I’d missed him so fucking much. My phone chirped and I picked it up.
Hey Caxtastrophe—nice hustle but you’re still losing.
My reply was brief. Hey Axeldental—bite me.
His response: I thought you weren’t into that anymore. But you know where to find me…
I snorted. Putting the phone down, I toweled off my forehead and went back to play. On the court was the only safe place for us to be near each other. I’d just have to enjoy every minute.
* * *
We lost the game by a handful of points, but I hadn’t had that much fun in a long time.
“I have to grab a shower before we go to Bruisers,” Jason said.
Unbidden, my eyes flicked toward the door to the locker room. I wondered if Axel was on his way in there. The locker room was going to have to be off limits for me. “I have to stop home for a minute. Meet you at the bar?”
“Sure! I’ll see if anyone from the winning team wants to join us.”
“Sounds good. Give me thirty minutes.” I walked outside practically humming. The world was a brighter place with Axel in it. Even if I couldn’t have what I wanted, just seeing him across a room made me happy. And maybe he’d come out to the bar…
At home, I was toweling off after a quick shower when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” I answered, hoping it was a wrong number.
It wasn’t.
“Hey,” my brother Jared said.
“Where are you?” I asked, knowing immediately that something was wrong. Jared didn’t make social calls.
“At Rob’s house.” The words were thick and indistinct. “Can you pick me up?”
“Of course,” I said first. “Are you drunk?”
“Don’t tell,” he pleaded.
I was standing beside my room’s door, and it made a perfect target to bang my head against. Thunk. Thunk. “Tell me how to find Rob’s house.”
Just like that, my night blew up.
After dressing hastily, I drove over to a split-level house in a residential neighborhood on the other side of town. Luckily, I didn’t have to go inside to find my errant brother. He came stumbling out the door as soon as I pulled up, then poured himself into my passenger seat. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
Taking a moment to study his angular, pimple-spotted features, I tried to figure out what to say. “You want to tell me what happened?”
He groaned. “I told Dad we were studying for a test, but Rob’s parents are out of town. He’s like—‘Let’s drink the vodka, because they never touch that one.’”
“So you did it.”
He stared out the window. “You pissed?”
I was careful with my answer, because I needed him to reach out to me even when he’d been stupid. “You did exactly the right thing, calling me for a ride.”
He grunted.
“Is there anything else we need to do? Do you think anyone is in danger?”
Jared shook his head. “I drank the most.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “They said I was chicken.”
“Jared, that was…”
“Really fucking stupid. I know.”
I put the car in gear. “Are you going to fall for that shit again?”
The reply was almost too low to hear. “No.”
I drove us out to the diner, because I needed to sober him up before I took him home to the asshole who called himself our father. “Come on. It’s a school night. Jesus. But we’ll get you some pancakes and coffee. Can you eat?”
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t too unsteady on his feet, and he didn’t look green. That was good. While I gave the waitress our order, he hid his face by looking out the window. “Were you home?” he asked eventually.
“On my way out.”
“With Amy?”
“Nope. I just had a hoops game, and we were headed out for a beer at Bruisers.”
“I want your life,” he said.
My laugh escaped before I thought better of it. “You do not want my life.”
“Why?”
I shook my head. “Hey, there’s something I need to tell you.”
The way he turned his head toward me made it look unnaturally heavy. “What?”
“Amy and I broke up.”
“Fuck.” He blinked, stunned. “Why?”
“We’ve been together a long time, that’s all.” I’d been wondering what reason to give, and it sounded even lamer coming out of my mouth than it had in my head.
His eyes narrowed. “Did you cheat?”
“No! Jesus. Nobody cheated.” It was hard to know what to say when the whole conversation was a lie. “We’re still friends. She’ll probably come to basketball games with us.”
“Maybe you’ll get back together.” He looked so pathetic sitting across from me, his teen anger wrapped around him like a coat, his eyes heavy-lidded and anguished.
“Maybe,” I lied. If he had to ease himself into this idea, then so be it.
My phone pinged with a text from Jason, wondering where the fuck I was. Sorry, I replied. Family emergency. I hope you’re not sitting there alone.
The reply was swift. No worries. There are six of us
here. See you in the salt mines.
I wondered who the six were, and if Axel was among them.
Sigh.
The waitress delivered our food, and Jared dug in.
“I’m going to call Dad,” I said.
“Why?” He looked up sharply.
“Trust me. I won’t throw you under the bus.” I dialed, and the old grouch answered on the third ring. “Hey, Dad,” I said, keeping my voice light. “I’m sitting here at the diner with Jared, and I realized it was getting late. You don’t have to wait up, I’ll drop him home within the hour.”
There was a pause on his end of the line. “I thought he was at a friend’s house.”
“He was. But I wanted to see him. I had to break the news that Amy and I broke up.” This was my strategy—throwing myself under the bus. But he was going to hear about it eventually. Probably from Scotty, who had no filter.
Two birds. One stone.
“What?” my dad snapped. “You cheat?”
Jesus Christ. My family watched too many movies. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no real story here.” And notice that nobody said, Hey Cax, we’re sorry. This must be rough on you.
My father gave an unintelligible grunt. “You’re bringing the kid home?”
“Sure thing. After he eats his pancakes.”
“All right.”
I knew better than to expect a “Thanks, Cax. You’re a good brother and an asset to the family.” “Goodnight,” I said.
“G’night.” Click.
I sighed. “Okay. Eat slowly. He’ll go to bed because he knows I’ve got you covered. You won’t even have to pretend to be sober.”
Jared put an elbow on the table and lifted his eyes to mine. “Thank you.”
Aw. There it was. “You’re welcome. If you get into a situation, you can always call me.” I resisted the urge to lecture him about drinking. Tonight he just needed to know that I’d show up to bail him out. Tomorrow I could give him the lecture.
After he cleaned his plate, I drove him to the all-night pharmacy for some Advil and some breath mints, just in case our father wasn’t asleep.
Then I took my brother home and told him I loved him as he got out of the car. And even though he didn’t say it back, I heard it anyway.
Chapter Ten
Axel
Cax didn’t show up at the bar that night.
I had a very pleasant time drinking with Boz and a few other guys, but it bothered me that Cax hadn’t come. He’d played a hell of a ball game, and he hadn’t shied away from me in the gym. Was it really too risky to share a beer in a crowded sports bar with the gay guy? Or guys, if we were counting Jason.
It was a fun time. Having Cax there would have made it perfect.
The next morning I emailed him from my personal account. Smack talk, of course.
Axeldental: Well, you aren’t QUITE as easy to beat at bball as you used to be.
The reply didn’t take long.
Caxtastrophe: Thanks. I think.
Axeldental: This is going to sound weird. I didn’t see you at the bar last night, and I just wanted to know if it was because of me. They were your friends first, so if I make you uncomfortable I can just beg off next time.
Caxtastrophe: You weren’t the problem. I was actually on my way over to Bruisers when I got a call from my brother. He needed a ride and a brief lecture from me about peer pressure and underage drinking.
Axeldental: Huh. Okay. So I didn’t need to expose myself as both paranoid and vain? Whoops.
Caxtastrophe: :-)
Axeldental: Does this mean you could drink beers in a bar with me sometime?
The reply took a while this time.
Caxtastrophe: Probably? What am I agreeing to right now?
Axeldental: Here’s my plan. The basketball team has an away game in Merryline this weekend. It’s about a two-hour drive. After the game I’m going to a bar called The Shaft. Yes, that’s the worst name for a gay bar ever. But it gets good reviews. It would be more fun if you went with me.
After I sent that last message, I watched my phone like a hawk looking for its next meal. But there was no response for hours.
The day ticked by slowly. I wrote press releases and worked on segmenting the athletic department’s mailing list by sport. And every two minutes I peered at my phone, hoping Cax would respond.
He put me out of my misery eventually.
Caxtastrophe: So how would this little excursion work?
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. Then I answered him.
Axeldental: I’ll ride the team’s bus out to Merryline. But I booked myself into a different hotel, because I like my privacy. After the game, I’ll take a cab to the bar. You’d have to drive up. It’s about ninety miles. But you can crash in my hotel room if you want.
I won’t lie—I rewrote the message a few more times, trying to make it sound casual. It took me a while to hit send. I hated rejection as much as the next guy. But if you don’t ask, you can’t ever hear “yes.”
To get away from my phone, I went running after work. Treadmills weren’t my thing, but there was snow on the ground pretty much all the time now. So I found the college’s indoor track and pounded out four miles listening to hip-hop on my iPod. When I got home, I found three emails in succession.
Caxtastrophe: You’re looking for loopholes again. I don’t get to have loopholes.
Caxtastrophe: I don’t know a soul in Merryline, though.
Caxtastrophe: What does a guy wear to a place called The Shaft? I’m picturing leather pants and a dog collar.
The last message made me howl with laughter as I tried to picture conservatively dressed Cax in leather.
Axeldental: I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I figure the collar is optional.
* * *
There were no more messages that night and none the next day.
Was there any chance he was coming to Merryline? Probably not. I convinced myself that it was crazy to ask him. But hope springs eternal. So I put condoms and lube in the interior pocket of my overnight bag. And I brought a nice shirt to wear out to the bar. I told myself that it was worth it, anyway. I was going to a gay bar for the first time in months. I might as well look good.
I put Cax out of my mind when I boarded the team bus on Friday. There was too much basketball mojo in the air to stress about it, anyway. I listened to the coach’s speech, and I listened to the players psyching themselves up. And I tried to appreciate the parts of my life that were going well.
Lonely was a state of mind, after all. And I wasn’t going to choose it tonight.
Chapter Eleven
Cax
I had no idea how I’d come to point my car toward Merryline, Massachusetts. That’s what I’d been telling myself, anyway.
Earlier I’d asked Amy if she wanted to see a movie. It was the first time I’d asked her to hang out since she’d told me about her I.T. boyfriend. But they had plans together. Of course they did.
I’d been so desperate not to be at loose ends that I’d asked each of my three brothers to the movies. I was even prepared to see a kid flick with Scotty. That’s how desperate I was. But to a man, they were busy. Even Scotty, who had a sleepover birthday party.
It was like God had ordered me to drive to Merryline to be with Axel.
I’d thrown a change of clothes and a toothbrush into my duffel bag, and, as the GPS directed me out of town, I said a silent prayer that none of my brothers would end up needing me tonight. It would be just my kind of luck for someone to have a crisis when I was ninety miles away.
Still, I went. This adventure felt like a stolen opportunity. Nobody knew where I was going, not even the man I was going to see. My father never left town. And he had no friends in Merryline, a posh suburb where rich Bostonians moved to have larger yards.
It was incredibly liberating to walk out of my life for a night.
Then there was the matter of the gay bar. When Axel had written me
that he was going, my first reaction was, I could never go to a place like that. But after I thought about it for a while, I pictured Axel going there alone. And then I pictured Axel getting hit on by half the men in the bar. That bothered the shit out of me, because I knew it would happen.
Of course, my traitorous brain moved the daydream right along—to Axel leaving with a guy. Axel making out with him on a hotel bed. Axel’s clothes coming off…
That image was what finally gave me enough incentive to cast aside my fears and get into the car.
It was a long and winding road eastward toward the Boston ’burbs. When I got close, I stopped my car to gas up, and while fuel filled my tank I emailed Axel. He’d check the email account, wouldn’t he? Unless he’d written me off already.
Caxtastrophe: Where are you? I’m about ten minutes from the bar.
I got my answer before the pump clicked off.
Axeldental: Changing to go out. Pick me up at the Merryline Motor Lodge?
He didn’t express any shock that I was here. I didn’t know whether to be annoyed or grateful.
To the confusion of my GPS device, I detoured to his motel. When I pulled in, I realized I didn’t know how to find him. But the second time I scanned the row of motel room doors, I saw Axel jogging toward my car.
He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. “Hey,” he said. As if we did this all the time.
“Hey. I’m still not sure this was a good idea.”
He beamed at me, those chocolate eyes twinkling. The smile he gave me went straight to my dick. “Of course you’re not. But we’re doing this anyway.”
“Really? You want to go to a place called The Shaft?”
He pointed out the windshield. “Drive, Cax. We have to see the place, if only for the entertainment value. Let’s go.”
So I drove. It was only a couple of miles away, and when I pulled into the parking lot, the female voice of my GPS announced the success. “You have arrived at…The Shaft!”
We burst out laughing. And it felt damned good.
I followed Axel into a cavernous, crowded room. Men were three deep at the bar. There were tables all around the edges of the place and pool tables in the far corner.