10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

Chapter 11

Brad

There’s an art to endurance. To making yourself last. Sure, hydration and protection are important. They keep you safe. But if you want to cross that finish line in tip-top form, it’s all about being limber .

“You, uh…really want those hamstrings stretched, huh?” Joey says, standing beside me as we prep for the 5k charity run.

“Yeah, man. Don’t wanna cramp before the end.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. It’s early still, but Joey’s wearing sunglasses and running shorts, ready to go. Dude’s prepared.

“Did you put on your sunscreen?” I check, standing upright and grabbing the mini-bottle of protection I stashed in the pocket of my shorts.

“I’m good,” he says before huffing softly. “You couldn’t have gotten lube that small?”

“Oh shit,” I say in realization. “I left that in the alley.”

Joey laughs, his cheeks doing that squish thing they do when he’s happy. “Someone got a nice surprise.”

“Heh. Guess so.”

There’s a crackle of a speaker a second before someone’s voice carries over the crowd, announcing that the run is about to begin. I haven’t spotted Cas yet, but I’m sure we’ll catch him at some point.

I give Joey’s arm a slap. “C’mon. Let’s raise some money for kids.”

Joey and I step toward the white starting line where everyone is congregated. I’m about to ask him if he wants to grab brunch after this, but as I open my mouth, he grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and tugs the material cleanly over his head.

I break into a sudden and rapid coughing fit instead.

Joey whips his head my way, concern etched across his features. “All right, bub?”

“You’re… You, uh…”

Joey’s shirt is cropped above his belly button. It almost looks like he took a pair of scissors to a regular tee, which may be the case. And with his sweatshirt now tied around his hips, all of his stomach muscles are on full display. Which…is fine. Not like that’s a problem. A distraction maybe, for some people.

I look around, but no one seems to be paying Joey any mind. In fact, plenty of people are shirtless or in sports bras. Of course Joey’s outfit is no big deal. Nothing at all to be concerned about.

So why is my heart racing so damn fast?

“Fine,” I manage, giving myself a shake. Totally fine.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yep!” I say cheerfully. “Ready to eat my butt?”

Joey’s eyes flare wide.

“Shit, that wasn’t right,” I mutter. It only takes a second to click. “ Ah . Ready to eat my dust?”

“Did you just combine that with the phrase ‘kick my butt’?” Joey asks.

“Sure did.”

He nods. “Yep, that tracks. Bring it, Bradley. You’re going down.”

I grin as the announcer starts the run, a bell chiming just after. Joey gives me a shove backwards before taking off, and I bark a laugh, chasing after him. I catch up quickly, and we settle into a good, swift jogging pace similar to our warm-ups at the gym. It’s a nice morning, the sun not yet high enough for us to be baking.

“Think they’ll have donuts at the end?” I ask.

Joey glances over at me. “Why would they?”

“I don’t know. I thought that might be a thing.”

“Have you done many 5ks where that was a thing?” he asks curiously.

“I’ve never actually finished a 5k.”

He looks surprised by that. “Really? Why not? You’ve run that far before, haven’t you?”

“Well, sure,” I tell him. “But, you see… The first one I did, there was this restaurant advertising bacon breakfast sandwiches, and I got a little sidetracked.”

Joey laughs.

“And then the one after that, this woman next to me fell and skinned her knee. And that was it, man. I had to bow out.”

“Wait, why?”

“Blood,” I explain. “Can’t do blood.”

I shiver just thinking about it.

“Huh,” Joey says. “Well, when we get to the end of this one, you can find out if there are donuts.”

“I hope there are, but if not, you’re buying.”

He shoots me a smile. “Deal.”

Joey and I run in silence for a while. A good eighth of a mile, in fact.

“Do you want to get married?” I ask him.

Joey trips, eyes wide as he recovers and looks over at me. A few people move around us as I give Joey’s shoulder a steadying hand.

“Geez, dude. You good?”

He nods, huffing as we settle back into our running pace. “Uh, crack in the ground,” he mutters. “You mean that generally, don’t you?”

How else would I mean it?

“Yeah, I figure it’s a pretty important compatibility measure,” I point out. “You said kids are flexible for you, but some people have pretty firm beliefs about marriage. Probably something your wingman should know.”

Joey is quiet for a minute. I wave at a cute toddler in a stroller as we pass.

“I’d like to get married if it feels right,” Joey finally says. “It’s not a deal-breaker for me if the person I’m with doesn’t want that, but… I guess I always hoped I’d walk down the aisle one day. For so long, someone like me wouldn’t have been able to. And although every single person should have the same inherent rights as human beings, it doesn’t change the fact that queer individuals face scrutiny every single day, simply for being who we are. I don’t want to take for granted the effort we’ve gone through to be seen and accepted and be able to do something as simple as proclaim our love in front of others. And I want my partner to know I wouldn’t ever take them for granted, either. So, yeah, I’d like to walk down that aisle. It’d mean a lot to me for so many reasons.”

My chest feels tight as I take in the earnest expression on Joey’s face. He’s such a good guy—solid and sweet and immensely thoughtful—and he deserves to have that. To find someone who will share his dream.

“Joey,” I say seriously, “don’t settle, okay? We’ll find someone to walk down that aisle with you.”

His smile is soft. “How can you be so sure?”

I shrug before wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Because I’m determined. I promised I’d find you your guy, and there’s no way your guy won’t want to give you everything you deserve. He’s out there; I know he is. I’ll hook you up, J-dawg, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Joey’s lips twitch. “You’re starting to sound like my pimp.”

“Your marriage pimp!” I say with a snort. “Can that be my official title?”

“It’ll go right on the certificate,” he deadpans. “And J-dawg?”

I cringe. “Yeah, that one didn’t land. Don’t worry, Joey-roo. Won’t happen again.”

He chuckles. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re even real.”

A frown pulls at my lips, an uncomfortable sensation settling in my gut. “What do you mean?”

Joey squeezes my arm as the both of us swerve around a slow-moving jogger. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, bub. It’s good—believe me. You just…” He goes quiet for a moment before saying, “Most people put up walls, whether or not they intend to. But you’re just honest . You’re honest about who you are. It’s a rare quality.”

I chew on the inside of my lip, my feet rhythmically pounding the pavement. Joey’s do the same beside me.

“I’ve never seen the point in pretending to be anyone but who I am,” I tell him. “Maybe it’s stupid, not protecting myself. I do get hurt sometimes. But if you spend your life building walls, you might miss out on the people who’d see you for who you are. I don’t want to miss out on that.”

I nearly stumble when Joey tugs me to a stop. He pulls me in for an unprompted hug, and my heart kicks, my chest feeling tight where we’re pressed together.

My buddy Jason has never been big with physical affection. At least, not with me. And that’s fine. It’s not the way he’s hardwired.

But Joey is different. He doesn’t hesitate to give me hugs or a touch to let me know he cares. I’ve never really had that outside of the occasional girlfriend. And maybe it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had one of those, but Joey’s arms around me feel like the best sort of comfort.

I could get addicted to it if he let me.

He gives me another squeeze before letting go. “Like I said, you’re a rare gem, bub. As for those assholes who’d hurt you? Let ’em try. I have a hammer, and I know how to use it.”

“Whoa,” I breathe. “Joey. Did you just threaten bodily harm for me?”

He chuckles, clasping my neck. “Seriously, don’t stop being you, okay?”

I must be grinning like a fool because Joey shakes his head, looking fondly exasperated. Or maybe just fond. His shirt, I notice, is sticking to his chest now, sweat creating a damp spot on the fabric. My brain does a funny little blip when a bead of that sweat slips out from underneath the hem, the single drop rolling over the hills and valleys of Joey’s stomach. It heads down, down, down, toward—

“Ready to keep going?” Joey asks.

“Yep!” I say much too loudly, practically jumping. We settle back into a swift jog, my heart rate elevated. But that’s normal, right? Perfectly normal for cardio.

I frown a little.

“Did you know not all animals sweat?” I say. “Like dogs. They pant to cool down. Or air their crotch.”

I catch Joey’s raised eyebrow before refocusing ahead.

“Could you imagine if we were like dogs?” I go on, huffing a laugh. “If we just stopped wherever we were and spread ’em all willy-nilly? Just whoop , flat on our backs, whip out the goods. Really ventilate those shafts, you know?”

Oh, good God, what?

“Brad,” Joey says, a chuckle in his tone as I wince. “Maybe not the best place to be discussing…shafts?”

“Right,” I say quickly, looking around at the families we’re passing. I clear my throat. “I wonder if kangaroos sweat.”

“This kangaroo sure does,” he says, confirming he’s the absolute best.

I grin, but as soon as I look over at him again, my gaze slips down to his stomach, and I snap my head forward.

“Yeah,” I cough out, wondering what it is about all that bare skin that—“ Oh .”

I beeline toward a street vendor nearby.

“Brad?” Joey calls, his footsteps following me. “We’ll have time for bacon sandwiches when we’re done.”

I shake my head, but I don’t bother stopping to explain it’s not bacon sammies I’m after. I’m too transfixed by the most magnificent thing.

I tug out my wallet as I stop in front of the vendor’s stall. “The pink one,” I tell them, still catching my breath.

They nod, plucking the item off the rack and handing it over. After they run my card, I turn around with a massive grin on my face.

Joey looks perplexed.

“Hold still,” I tell him, stepping forward with the bright pink fanny pack in hand. I wrap it around his stomach, the click as it locks into place strangely satisfying. After adjusting the strap so it’s snug, I step back and look him over. “Perfect.”

Joey, I realize, is watching me with a strange expression, and my excitement starts to fade.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s good,” he says quickly, his eyes sweeping over my face. “I just… Thanks, bub. I love it.”

My grin is back in full force. “You bet. Ready to finish this run?”

“Let’s do it.”

I stand back as Joey jogs off ahead of me, nodding to myself. Yeah, that’s way better. Now his stomach isn’t so…empty. Plus, the dude looks phenomenal in pink.

“Coming?” Joey calls, turning and jogging backwards.

I get my feet into gear.

It’s not long before Joey and I reach the end point of the 5k. It wasn’t a grueling run by any means, nor a competitive race, but attendants at a stand near the finish line cheer for the people crossing, and it makes me feel proud of our accomplishment.

“Water?” Joey asks, hands on his waist as he walks over to one of the tables where wax paper cups wait. He hands one over, and I have just enough time to down it before I hear my name called.

“ Brad .”

I give Cas a big wave as he approaches. “Hey, man!”

“You guys just finish?” he asks, giving Joey a smile. Cas is a good dude that way. Always nice, always welcoming.

“Sure did,” I tell him, squeezing Joey’s somewhat sweaty shoulder. “Cas, this is my man, Joey Kangaroo. Joey, this is Cat-man.”

“Nice to meet you,” Joey says.

Cas shakes Joey’s hand. “You, too. Thanks for coming out today. I appreciate you both helping with this fundraiser.”

“Of course!” I tell him happily. “I got a lot of pledges from the people at my office. They were really enthusiastic, actually. I didn’t realize my coworkers were so excited about charity.”

“Did you ask for donations in person?” Joey asks, a small smile on his lips.

“Sure did. Why?”

His smile widens. “Bub… You realize you’re incredibly charming, right?”

A warm sort of fizz sets off in my stomach. “You think I’m charming?” I ask, unable to hide my grin.

Joey shakes his head, looking amused. “Ridiculously so. I’m not surprised your coworkers couldn’t say no to you.”

“Huh,” I say, weirdly happy that Joey thinks I’m charming. I’ve been called too much plenty of times. But charming? Not that. At least, not that I’m aware of. “You’re not so bad yourself, my kanga-dude.”

He gives me a cheek-crinkling smile.

“Well, thanks again,” Cas says, drawing my attention his way. “If you guys are hungry, there’s some fruit just over there.”

“Aw, man,” I mumble sadly. “No donuts?”

Cas looks confused. “No donuts, no. I need to take care of a few things, but it was nice to meet you, Joey. I like the fanny pack.”

“Isn’t it great?” I agree, slipping my finger under the band and giving it a little tug.

Joey makes a strangled sound, the muscles in his stomach tensing. I glance at his face, wondering why he seems so off, but he’s focused on Cas. “Um. Nice to meet you, too,” he says.

“See you soon?” Cas asks the both of us.

I let go of the fanny pack to hold up my hand. “Yeah, man. You know it.”

Cas slaps my palm before heading off.

I sigh, eyeing the fruit. “I suppose we should get some sustenance?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Joey says, sounding distracted. Dude’s probably just hungry. I get it.

Once we reach the snack table, Joey picks an apple, and I grab a banana.

“You’re still buying me donuts,” I remind him, peeling my fruit.

“Yep.”

“I deserve some sugary carbs.”

“Bananas are sugary ca—”

Joey cuts off into a round of choking, and I look at him in alarm, quickly finishing my bite.

“Dude, you all right?” I ask, stepping forward to slap his back.

“You just…you went for it, didn’t you?” he says, voice hoarse.

It takes me a second to understand he’s talking about my banana, half of which is now gone. “If they’re really small, I can usually get them in one go,” I tell him proudly. “But this one’s a beast. Two-biter for sure.”

He wheezes a little.

“You okay, man?” I ask in concern, rubbing his shoulder. “You look rough.”

Joey nods tightly. “I’m good. Promise. This was, uh…a really nice morning.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” I agree. “Thanks for helping me finish my first 5k, Joey-roo.”

His chuckle is soft. “My pleasure. But I’m pretty sure you did it all yourself.”

“Maybe so. But you were there with me. And I’ll always remember that.”

Joey’s expression is hard to make out behind his sunglasses, but the small smile that graces his face makes me feel like I did something right. “Ready to get those donuts?”

“ So ready,” I tell him, tossing my banana peel in the trash.

Maybe it was my feet that carried me across the finish line, but you can never discount the encouragement people give you along the way. And Joey? He’s one of the most encouraging people I know. He makes me feel powerful, like I could do anything I set my mind to.

In fact…

Step four in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love:

Accomplish a goal .

Done.

I ran my first 5k.

I wonder what else I could accomplish with Joey by my side.