Keeping Sweets (18 page)

Bran and Evan lay back too, following suit to stare at the clusters of bright stars nestled in the blackness.

“Think you’ll ever go back?” Evan asked.

“Nah, don’t think so. Nothin’ for me there anymore. It’s time for me to find my own way, make my own decisions and figure out what I want outta life, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do. I feel the same way. Never going home again, not that I even have a home left to go to. I’m not really welcome there anymore, but even if I were, that place is toxic. The road I’m on is going to be a difficult one to follow, but I’ll be happier in the end,” said Evan.

Bran envied the younger men. Just starting out, they were bright-eyed and optimistic. Reality hadn’t dulled the sheen of possibility for them yet. He hoped that never changed, that they were able to accomplish what they wanted and that they found their way in the world.

More than that, he hoped some of that bright-eyed optimism would rub off on him, that he could feel that same excitement for starting over that he had once had. Maybe it was possible for him to hit the reset button on his life and become something greater than he was. Maybe he could become the kind of person who deserved to be happy with someone like Evan.

E
VAN
’
S
toes were wrinkly and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. It had been a big day for him and he was exhausted. He pulled his feet from the warmth of the water, shivering a little as the cool air brushed against his wet skin.

He was unsure where he and Bran stood, but didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or make assumptions about what was allowed. This wasn’t a typical situation. He had lost his virginity less than twelve hours earlier to the man sitting in front of him. He wanted nothing more than for Bran to drag him back to his bedroom and devour him, slow and sweet, all over again, but he couldn’t. He had to hold it in, had to keep his feelings and desires in check. It wouldn’t do him any good to get attached to a man he knew would walk away from him when the camera stopped rolling.

Evan took his time drying off. “I think I’m going to head to bed or I’m going to fall asleep out here.” He paused, waiting for Bran to follow him in, or give him some indication he wanted to spend the night with him, but the man was quiet, giving him a simple “good night.”

Evan felt a bit dejected and headed to his bedroom to lick his wounds. He pushed open the bedroom door slowly, half-expecting naked sweaty men in the throes of passion, but instead he found the room deserted. There were no guarantees that he wouldn’t be woken up later by panting and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, but for now he could sleep in peace.

Evan pulled the folder Bran had given him on the first day out of his bag. Opening it up, he checked the schedule for the next day. They were shooting three scenes. The first was in the afternoon: a threesome scene with Kellan, Cooper, and Riley in the weight room. He was supposed to be shooting the second scene with Ryan later in the evening in the living room, and then Bran was scheduled to shoot after that with Colt in the shower.

After tucking the folder back into his bag, he quickly completed his evening routine, brushing his teeth and slipping out of the rest of his clothes to nestle under the covers. He tried to even his breathing and relax. As tired as his body was, his mind was consumed with thoughts of the day and what tomorrow would hold.

He wondered if he would feel the same way about sex with Ryan as he had about sex with Bran. He doubted it. He was even more nervous about being with Ryan. He didn’t know the guy that well, didn’t have the same sense of trust and understanding as with Bran. What if he couldn’t go through with it? Would Bran be upset? The idea of disappointing Bran was almost scarier than the thought of going through with it.

He stared at the ceiling, watching the patterns of light from outside change as the leaves moved in the wind. This was the first night he had slept in his own bed at the house. It felt too big. Even when he had lived at home in the run-down, soulless house he hadn’t felt this alone.

He stretched his legs out, moving them beneath the covers, trying to create enough friction to warm the sheets. It didn’t work. Willing sleep to come, he curled into a ball, hugged his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. Finally, it overtook him and he fell into deep oblivion.

T
HE
next morning, Evan woke up late to an empty room and immediately felt his guts twisting. He felt as if he’d had lead for dinner the night before. His stomach was heavy with anxiety. He wished his scene was first, at least then he could get it over with. If he had to wait the whole day feeling like this, it was likely going to kill him.

He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to dispel the heaviness before he made his way into the kitchen for breakfast. There, he found Colt finishing his piece of toast and Ryan scraping some very dry scrambled eggs onto a plate.

Colt got up from the counter and washed his plate before tucking it away in the cupboard.

“I got a call from my friend in Eugene,” Colt told Evan. “He’s set everything up for us. I’ll call the landlord later today and iron out all the details, but it sounds like the place will be ready for us when we’re done filming.”

“That’s awesome,” Evan said, but he didn’t mean the words. If he had to have a roommate, Colt would definitely be his second choice. He was reluctant to think about leaving Bran, and Colt finalizing the details of their house together was making it seem more real.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great,” Colt said as he left the kitchen.

Ryan watched Colt leave, then turned back to Evan. “Do you want some eggs?” he asked.

“No, thanks. I’m not very hungry this morning.”

The surfer turned back to the pan, emptying the last of the eggs into a lumpy pile in the center. He then upended the ketchup bottle and squeezed half of it onto the plate. The eggs became an unnaturally orange congealed mass.

“And now I’m not sure that I’ll ever be hungry again,” Evan teased. “That looks disgusting.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. My grandma taught me how to make eggs.”

“Did your grandma have dementia?”

Ryan laughed as he took the first big bite. “Asshole. My grandma is a classy lady. Don’t be talkin’ shit about her.” He threw a balled up napkin at Evan, which hit him in the head.

“You ready for later? You and me, baby.”

Evan tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. The joking had given him a momentary reprieve from the knot that gripped his insides. Now, the knot was back, and tightening more and more by the minute. He tried to put on a brave face, to seem unfazed and as easygoing as the other guys.

“Yep. Should be fun.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Of course it’ll be fun. A lot of hot, sweaty fun. The best job in the world, yeah? Getting paid to fuck?”

“Yeah.” Evan was surprised by the squeaky noise that had come out of his mouth. He wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding his reticence, but if Ryan noticed, he didn’t say anything. He finished up eating and rinsed his plate before loading it into the dishwasher.

S
INCE
none of the shoots started until after lunch, most of the guys were heading out to swim for a few hours. Ryan had promised to give everyone surf lessons and a couple of the guys had bought used boards in town the day before. Evan wanted to go, but was hesitant. He’d never been swimming before. There were no lakes or anything near where he lived, and his mother hadn’t been the type to drive him to swimming lessons. He felt drawn to the water, but at the same time it scared the shit out of him.

He didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of the other guys. Who got to eighteen without learning to swim? But he thought he could probably just go and wade around, maybe splash in the shallows for a while.

At ten, most of the guys streamed out the back door of the house, headed toward the ocean, shirtless and carrying beach towels. It was like an episode of gay
Baywatch
. The sun was already warming the sand and the air had that earthy, salt-crusted smell that made everything seem fresh and clean. Despite the trepidation Evan felt for his scene later and his inability to swim, he was not one to miss out on an opportunity.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the water’s edge, where a couple of them laid out their towels and sat in the sun. Kellan and Ryan were the first to hit the water, running into the waves and creating big splashes as they moved.

“Fuck the water’s cold!” shouted Kellan.

“You just want an excuse for that tiny dick you’re hiding in your shorts!” Riley shouted back.

“Tiny dick doesn’t explain why you’re walking funny this morning, Riley,” teased Ryan.

Evan smiled, already feeling more relaxed. If he had learned anything on this trip so far, it was not to let anxiety and inexperience get in the way of doing what you want. It turned out that he was a lot more capable than he thought he was.

He decided to test the theory out now, pulling off his T-shirt and walking slowly toward the water. He didn’t have to go in far; waist height would be enough to experience it, he figured.

It turned out Kellan was telling the truth; the water was fucking cold. Evan pressed on though, feeling the soft silt squish between his toes. Ryan had already swum out farther than anyone and pulled himself up onto his surfboard, then coasted easily back to shore. Kellan wasn’t too far behind him, using long easy strokes to propel him through the water. It didn’t look that difficult. Maybe later on Evan could give it a try.

He could hear the splashing of Riley and Bran walking up behind him. He turned to see Cooper and Colt still lying on the beach. Colt was turned toward Cooper. Propped up on one elbow, he looked happy and relaxed. It was not something Evan had seen a lot of coming from Colt.

“You know,” Riley said from beside him, “the best way to get in is all at once. Kinda like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

“No… wait….” Evan protested, but before he could explain, Riley had picked him up around the waist and tossed him into the water as if he were a little kid.

He wasn’t thrown far, but the water was deep enough to go over his head. Evan began to panic as the cool water closed over him, the waves making it difficult to tell which end was up. He struggled against it, trying to bring his head above water but couldn’t. He felt like he was being pulled under and that his erratic movements were only using up his air more quickly.

He felt a strong arm slip around his waist and tug him up toward the sunlight. He gasped for breath as he broke through the surface of the water and then went limp as Bran swam the few feet to where he could touch the bottom. Evan clung to Bran—his arms wrapped tightly around Bran’s neck—and let him carry him into the shallows. His breathing was erratic.

Bran put him down carefully and Evan wiped his eyes, coughing as the water drained from his sinuses. Bran had let him go, but still had a warm hand pressed to his back, keeping him steady.

“You alright?” Bran asked with concern.

“Fuck, Jackson, I am so sorry.” Riley pulled Evan into his arms and held him for a minute. He wished it had been Bran, and not Riley to try to comfort him.

“I’m fine. Really,” Evan said with a weak smile. “I just, you know, never learned how to swim.”

Riley released Evan from the embrace, but held onto his arm. “I just—fuck—I am really so sorry. Are you okay? Can I do anything?”

Cooper and Colt, having seen what happened, had run into the water to make sure Evan was okay. He felt a little embarrassed by all the attention. It wasn’t that big a deal, and really he shouldn’t have panicked. They say that’s the worst thing you can do. It was really his own fault for not telling the guys from the get-go that he couldn’t swim.

“I’m good, I promise. Just had a bit of a scare is all. I’m just going to sit on the beach for a bit. You guys go ahead.”

Evan waded out and toward the beach. He could hear Bran behind him, the water sloshing around his legs as he trudged through the shallow water. His presence behind him did more to warm Evan than the rays of sunlight that were growing stronger as the sun rose in the sky.

He flopped down onto one of the towels spread out not far from the water’s edge. He lay on his back with his feet flat on the ground, anchoring him to the earth. He splayed his hands casually against his stomach so he could feel himself breathing, stomach rising and falling with each inhalation and exhalation. Bran stood over him, hands on his hips, shading him from the overwhelming brightness.

“You mind?”

Evan cocked his head in silent permission. Bran sank down beside him. They were quiet, listening to the laughter and shouts of the boys in the water. Cooper had swum out and pulled Kellan, already unsteady on his feet, off his surfboard and into the gentle waves. Kellan retaliated by pulling him under the water, then holding him down with knees on his shoulders. Cooper pushed him off and dunked him again.

Evan let the laughter wash over him, cleansing him of the fear he had felt in the water. The prickle of disquiet had finally subsided, pushed aside by the warmth and ease of the morning.