Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

ZACHARY

I grabbed a towel from the stack by the bar before making my way over to the lounge chair next to Mateo. “Hey, man. How’s your head this morning?” Both grooms had overimbibed the previous night. Our friend Wallace and I had made sure they’d hydrated and taken some aspirin before putting them to bed around 2am. The clubs and bars had been packed, and once again I was grateful the grooms hadn’t made their wedding plans early enough to get a reservation for Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t imagine what the crowds would be like a few days from now.

He lifted his sunglasses and gave me a once-over. “Wow, how old is that guy you swapped suitcases with? Seventy?”

I ran my hands over the baggy, solid navy board shorts, feeling oddly defensive of Ford. “Hey, these aren’t so bad. They’re not the sexiest, but they’ve got all kinds of pockets that zip or Velcro shut.”

He snorted. “As long as you didn’t want to get laid this trip. Joel and I were looking forward to being your wingmen, since you’re the last single one of our crew. But....” He eyeballed me up and down again. “Maybe not until we see the rest of the clothes. Hey, if you want, we have some time to go shopping after lunch.”

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow at Mateo. “It’s your bachelor party tonight. I need a nap this afternoon, and so do you and Joel.”

He snorted and whispered, “Seventy years old.”

I whacked him with the end of my towel. Ford’s voice hadn’t sounded that old. “Hey, I looked up that PrideVMC from his luggage tag. It’s a group for LGBTQ+ veterinarians.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. But being a veterinarian doesn’t mean you can’t have a little style.”

I whacked him with the towel again. “I don’t know if he’s a vet or not. But did you know veterinarians are more than twice as likely to die by suicide than the general population?”

He lifted his sunglasses again. “No shit? That’s awful.”

“Yeah, and the risk is even higher with LGBTQ+ veterinarians.”

“Fuck. I’ll stop insulting his clothes.” He sat up. “Did he sound depressed?”

I tilted my head. “I don’t think so? He sounded like he felt guilty about taking my bag, but we didn’t talk for very long.”

“Dude, you should keep talking to him.” He held up his hands. “Not that he’s your responsibility or anything, but now you’ve got me worried.”

I picked at the Velcro on the side pocket of Ford’s board shorts. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea.” Then I grinned. “I did tell him I wanted him to try on my lace underwear.”

Mateo laughed. “I might not be an old fart, but I’m still not sure I’d be up for putting on another dude’s undies, especially if I wasn’t sleeping with him.”

I sat up. “Hey, take a picture of me. I want to send it to Ford so he can see me wearing his stuff. Then he’ll know I meant it when I told him to wear mine.”