Don't Read in the Closet volume one (14 page)

“That’s good.”

“Evan, I’m not
going home with you tonight. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Evan studied
him, chewed on his bottom lip. “Are you pissed off at me?”

Jesse reached
out, tugged him into his arms,
spent
a long moment
smelling his hair, the sweat on the back of his neck. “No, of course not.”
Jesse stopped, suddenly unsure of
himself
. “Will you
wait for me?”

“You don’t want
me with you when you fight?”

“No, I don’t.
Evan…
please
. I need to take care of this alone.”

Evan looked up
at him, his beautiful blue eyes bright as the stars in the night sky. “I’ll
wait. For as long as you want me.”

Jesse opened
the door of his condo, cursed a little bit under his breath at the emptiness.
Why did he send Evan home? His place looked lonelier than usual, deserted, like
an expensive hotel room. How would George like this place? He stood in the
shower, thinking two could easily fit under the spray of hot water, imagining
Evan’s smooth, cool skin sliding against his own. What had the man said?
Something about his hunger. Oh, he was hungry for Evan, no question about that.
But there was more. It would be too easy to lean into Evan’s strong arms, slide
into sleep wrapped around him and bury
himself
. He
needed to do this alone. Because he was hungry for something else, and he’d
never said it out loud, not even to
himself
. Never let
himself dream of anything but boxing. Could he look at himself in the mirror,
say it out loud? Drag his most secret dream out into the light?

It scared him.
He might fail. Maybe he wasn’t good enough, smart enough. This would be a kind
of competition he’d never dealt with before. Did he have the guts to try?

He crawled
between the sheets, stared at the phone for five minutes, willing it to ring.
Evan must have been reading his mind from across town. “Hey. You asleep?”

“Not yet. I was
waiting for you to call and tell me good night.”

“How long do
you think this waiting is going to be? Until we can sleep together?”

Jesse felt the
laughter bubbling up from his chest. He rolled over, looked at the clock.
“We’ll, it’s been about two hours so far.”

“Wow. That
long?”

“I’m not trying
to torture you. Actually, I’m looking forward to the day you climb between my
sheets. I hope it won’t be too far into my future.”

“I’m going to
wash mine. The sheets, I mean. Make up the bed so I’ll be ready. Make George
sleep on his fake-fur cat bed.”

“You up for pizza
and beer tomorrow night? Now you’ve got me hooked on pizza, it’ll be your fault
if I get fat.”

“I’ll give you
a good workout at PT,
then
you can have a beer without
feeling guilty.”

“Done. I’ll see
you at four.”

“Good night,
Jesse.”

Jesse woke and
went for a run, was at the gym working out with the speed bag when Corry came
in. He loved the speed bag, the rhythm, the smooth heat in his shoulders. It
was like moving meditation. “Hey, Jesse! How’s it hanging?”

“You got a
minute, Corry?”

“Sure.” Jesse
pulled a towel from the wrack, wrapped it around his neck and followed Corry to
the office. “How’s the PT? The falling?”

“The PT’s good.
I’m still falling. It doesn’t seem like things have changed. How’s Bo?”

“Not so good.
The kid’s taking it hard. He hates to lose worse than you. He’s got dizziness,
headaches. The doc said he’s got a concussion, and he can’t box until the
headaches stop. What else can we do? About you falling, I mean?”

“Corry, I’m
going to cancel the fight.”

“We still have
time, Jesse, see what this therapy….”

“I’m quitting.
It’s time for me to hang it up.”

“What? Why? Why
now? Is it this thing on your brain?”

“No. Well,
maybe. Listen, I know it’s nuts, but… maybe I don’t know what I’m doing, but
I’m going to do it anyway. Just trust me.” Jesse held out his hand. “We’ve been
together a long time, Corry. Wish me luck, okay?”

Corry was up,
wrapped his arms around Jesse’s big shoulders. “Of course I wish you luck!
You’re a knucklehead. You don’t think I’m gonna blow you off you’re not my
boxer anymore? I’ve loved you since you were a kid. We’re family. Whatever you
want to do, I’ll be at your side.”

Jesse hugged
him back. “Good. Let’s set up a press conference.”

Evan was in a
good mood when Jesse got to PT. “Hey! Just to let you know, I washed the
sheets. Wanted to get all ready, you know. Standing by. Waiting for the word.”

“You’ll be the
first,” Jesse said, and stripped down to his shorts and tee shirt.

“Integrative
therapy today, followed by the whirlpool. Oh, I want to check your blood
pressure, too. I forgot the other day. Do you know what your cholesterol is?”

“My LDL is 68.”

“No shit? Must
be all that pizza abstinence.”

“Well,
abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“That’s what
I’ve heard.” Evan got the blood pressure cuff, wrapped it around Jesse’s
biceps,
then
got the large cuff when the regular one
wouldn’t fit. “88/56. I think you might be in a coma.”

“It’s possible.
We’ll see if you can wake me up.”

After the
therapy they repaired to the hydrotherapy room, and Evan climbed into the tank
with him. “You’re distracting me,” Jesse said, when he felt Evan’s hands
sliding up and down his back, curving around his shoulders. “I’m supposed to be
working here.”

“This is my A
game,” Evan said, propping his chin up on Jesse’s shoulder and taking a nibble
on his ear. “You just keep doing those exercises. I bet I can get you to stop.”

“Bet you can’t.
Who do you think you’re dealing with? I’m not an amateur.” He felt a hand
sliding up the inside of his thigh, light fingers dancing along his skin.

Evan sighed,
his warm breath tickling Jesse’s cheek. “No, you’re not. You’re the heavyweight
champion of the world. How bizarre is that, for me to find myself here with
you?”

“Pretty
bizarre,” Jesse agreed. He finished the series, ignoring Evan’s arms around his
neck, the fingers moving across his skin. “I just keep thinking, pizza, pizza,
pizza. If I do these exercises, I’ll get some pizza.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. Don’t
make me wait without a kiss.”

Jesse pulled
Evan into his arms, slid wet hands down his back. Evan wrapped his legs around
Jesse’s waist. “I’m finding it strangely difficult to resist you.”

“So don’t
resist.” Evan was murmuring against his mouth, so close, a millimeter,
such
a tiny space. The size of a lesion on the brain, or the
size of the space between lover’s lips, about to kiss. It was nothing, a
millimeter. Evan smiled, eyes shining like stars, and it was the smile that
pushed him over. Who could resist a sweet mouth, smiling eyes? No one was that
strong, not even the heavyweight champion of the world.

The corner
booth was empty, and Jesse slid in, balancing a paper plate full of slices.
Evan came after him, holding a couple of bottles of beer. They sat thigh to
thigh, not speaking, just grinning at each other and stuffing their faces.
Jesse was on his second slice when Evan elbowed him, pointed to the TV with his
thumb. “You were on TV today?”

“Yep.”

Evan climbed
out of the booth, turned the sound up.

Jesse’s voice
from the TV was answering a reporter’s question. “…no, I’m only retiring from
boxing. I’ve got my next career, and that will be just as tough in some ways.”

“Champ, what
are you going to do now you’ve retired?”

“I’m going to
medical school. I want to be a doctor.”

The room was
still with shock, reporters standing with mouths slack, microphones dangling
from their hands. Jesse grinned at them. Then the shouting started, the flash
of the cameras, reporters crowding around the podium. Jesse stood there, let
them get their pictures,
then
he was out the door
before the stunned reporters could rally.

There was a
panel of sports analysts on next, discussing the implications of the sudden,
shocking retirement of the current heavyweight champion of the world, but Evan
turned the sound back down and moved into the booth until he could sling an arm
around Jesse’s shoulders. “Well. How about that.”

“Thanks for
waiting.” Jesse looked at his watch. “For 23 hours.”

“It just about
killed me,” Evan admitted. “My place, right? You’ll have reporters hanging
around your rich-guy pad? You’ll want to save your money for med school. You
can bunk with me if you want to sell that place.”

“George is
gonna have to sleep in his cat bed.”

Evan stood up,
pulled him out of the booth by the hand. “You’ve never had a cat before, have
you? Another new challenge. I’ll let you explain to George why he can’t sleep
on the bed.”

THE END

Author bio:
SARAH BLACK is a fiction writer living
in Boise, Idaho, and a retired Naval officer.

Visit
Sarah at:
www.sarahblackwrites.com

Blog:
http://sarahblack5.livejournal.com

email:
[email protected]

Selected by Scarlet
Blackwell

Dear Author
,

See the muscled surfer
in picture one? Let's call him Alain. He just walked onto the beach right after
dawn and realizes he made the biggest mistake of his life when he sees the guy
in picture number
two,
let's call him Jay, walking out
of the waves. Alain dumped Jay a year ago to explore all his other options. Jay
still hates his guts.

[PHOTO:
Two pictures of young men wading in the sea, surfboards in hand. One is heavily
muscled with blue and white shorts slipping low on his lean hips. He has a
strong jaw and curling dark wet hair. The other is leaner, smoother, wearing
dark blue shorts, his classic all-American features set off by wind-blown light
brown hair.]

I am hoping for a
rousing argument amidst pounding waves.

Sincerely,

Marleen

Genre:
contemporary

Tags:
angst; ocean; surfing; love
rekindled

Words:
5,366
 

BREAKING
WAVES

by
Scarlet Blackwell

Cameron squinted into
the coming dawn as he shrugged on his wetsuit. One of the smallest, most
secluded beaches in Echo Cove, this one got busy in the height of summer but
despite it being the weekend, he knew he still had a couple of hours before the
tourists arrived. It would be cold; the wetsuit was advisable.

There was one black car
parked a little way down from him, no driver visible. He guessed he could
handle one person on the beach although he couldn’t see anyone down there.

The sky was streaked pink,
chasing the purple away. Some people thought Cameron was crazy to get up so
early just to catch some waves, but he was a solitary soul anyway, preferred
his own company. Other surfers on the beach irked him. Of course, it hadn’t
always been that way. Once upon a time he would have surfed with Jay by his
side. Until he threw Jay away of course.

He scowled in memory,
pulling the wetsuit over his shoulders, zipping up, leaning into the car to
pull his board free. Just because he’d come home to Echo Cove on vacation for
the first time in three years, now was not the time to start reliving memories
best left forgotten. He’d made his choice. College in New York or Jay. Jay had
come a poor second, their summer fling over.