Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
Marshall
I t’s Saturday morning, and John and I meet up to play pickleball.
I’ve only been back in North Carolina for a few months, but enjoying this game twice a month is something we’ve already fallen into the habit of doing. I’d been playing in San Francisco, where I’d moved for college and had stayed after I’d graduated, and John had been playing out here.
Despite the distance over the years, we’ve stayed close friends. He is and always will be my family, and I’m the same for him. We’ve gone on vacations and spent holidays together. John, Callie, and JT had come to the Bay Area on several occasions, and I’d shown them around. We’d also taken trips down to LA and Disneyland and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. It’s nice to be close to them again, and I’ll always be thankful that despite how different we are, nothing will ever come between John and me.
“You ready, old man?” he calls from the other side of the net. It’s the start of our third game, each of us having won one.
“You call me that as if you’re not seven weeks older than me,” I toss back.
“Lies!” John teases, then serves the ball. It comes flying over, and I have to run to get to it and swat it back. We volley it back and forth before John misses, and I throw my hands up in the air.
“One to zero!”
“I let you have that one.”
“Lies!” I lob back as we continue the game. I’m sweaty, heart thudding and muscles tired, when it’s finally over and I have, in fact, won.
We head over to a bench and collapse onto it together.
“Damn, we’re getting old.” John wipes his face with his towel, and I do the same. I’ve kept in good shape. I mostly eat well and exercise because I like how I feel when I’m done. I enjoy physical exertion and pushing myself, but I also have to admit he’s right.
“Fuck yes, we are. Why are we doing that?”
He quirks a brow. “Because it’s better than the alternative?”
I chuckle. “I guess you’re right.”
John laughs, then nudges my shoulder with his. “Have I told you how good it is to have my brother home?” There’s nothing but sincerity to his words. John isn’t the kind of guy to blow smoke up someone’s ass. If he says something, he means it.
I wrap an arm around his shoulder, pull him close, and press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s good to be back, brother.”
“We’re having a barbecue at the house today. You should come over. One of Callie’s friends will be there, and JT is coming.”
There was a time in the beginning when John and Callie used to try and set me up with friends of theirs—both men and women. They don’t understand that people can be happy alone, that not all of us need a spouse and to live that heteronormative lifestyle. I’ve never wanted kids, and quite frankly, I’ve never wanted a committed relationship either. A long-term sub? Yes. Love and forever? No. It’s just not who I am, but if it ever happened, I wouldn’t run from it either. That’s also not who I am. And tangled into that, entwined in my DNA, is the kink. It’s nonnegotiable for me, just like I can’t permanently change my eye color.
None of the people John and Cal tried to set me up with lived the same lifestyle as me—or at least, I’d assumed they didn’t. It’s one of the few secrets I kept from John, until one day about ten years ago when I finally told him.
He hadn’t understood. He still doesn’t, just like most people who aren’t in the lifestyle don’t. He’d researched it, and of course, so many of the things he’d seen had been wrong or misleading. I’d corrected him, tried my best to explain it, and while it didn’t change our relationship—people don’t have to agree on everything to love one another—it’s something we don’t speak about.
And they haven’t tried to set me up with anyone ever since.
My point in all this is that ten years ago, I would have thought Callie’s friend was someone they wanted me to meet, but that’s not the case anymore.
“Sure,” I reply. “You know I love to eat.”
He chuckles. “Sounds good. I should head out. You’ll like Cal’s friend. She’s a professor at NC State.”
I bite back my groan because now I see that JT is the one being set up. I never say much because he’s John’s son and it’s not my place. I don’t know the first thing about having a kid, but every once in a while, I speak up. “College isn’t the be all end all, John.”
“I know. But I just… I want the best for him, want him to always know he has options. He’s so fucking smart, Marsh. I feel like he’s wasting chances and one day he’ll look back and regret it.”
“And if he does, then that’s the path he has to take. You can’t make his decisions for him. He’s twenty-two. He has a whole lot of life ahead of him. He can figure it all out later.” John and Callie weren’t able to have any kids after JT. Eventually they stopped trying, but that means two very ambitious, overachieving people focus all their energy on JT.
“It’s just Callie’s friend coming over for a barbecue,” he replies, and I take that as a sign that this isn’t my business and I need to stay out of it.
“What time should I be over?”
“Two work?”
“Sounds good.” We pack up our things and walk to our cars together.
Despite our differences, I can’t deny how good it is to be close to John again. He’s the man who jumped on a plane and flew across the country to be with me after my mom died. The one who talks about our futures and the havoc we can wreak when we’re older and retired.
“Me and Cal were doing some cleaning the other day, and I found some old photo albums. There are so many pictures of us together. It’s wild sometimes when I think about the fact that you’ve been by my side for most of my life.”
I smile at the love in his voice, imagining the photos he’d found.
“Remember that treehouse we built together? That was in there. The photo my mom took of the two of us looking down at her from our kingdom.” He chuckles.
“We had some good times.” The best , I think, just before he speaks those exact words. “You’re being nostalgic today.”
He shrugs. “Just glad to have you as a best friend, is all.”
We stop at our vehicles and pull each other into a hug. “I’m glad to have you too.”
After a quick goodbye, I’m in my Range Rover and driving back to my place right outside North Hills. It’s the perfect location for me because my office is in North Hills, but my neighborhood still manages to be secluded. It’s surrounded by greenery, on a three-quarters of an acre lot that gives me the little bit of space I desire.
At home, I see my laptop on the table, and my thoughts immediately go to the man I’d been talking to last night. He is…intriguing, at least so far. I haven’t spoken with him enough to have a real handle on him, and I don’t know the scene in the triangle area, so I’m feeling my way around in Raleigh. I didn’t begin to explore this part of myself until I moved to California. I haven’t even played with anyone since moving back, which is starting to make me feel restless.
Maybe my first partner since coming home will be the sub from last night. I liked how he answered my question, the things he told me he felt. I could tell by the delay that he was putting some thought into it, and that’s a quality I enjoy in a sub. My gut is telling me he doesn’t have a whole lot of experience but knows what he wants. It wouldn’t be like taking on someone who doesn’t know the ins and outs of the lifestyle, even if he’s still learning. Really, we should never stop learning. That’s not how this works.
I’m excited to speak with him tonight, though, to see if we continue to gel well and will meet up.
I head to my home office, where I sit at my desktop computer and pull up work. I’ve been with the same auto parts tech company since I graduated, and when they decided to open a new location in the triangle area, it was a logical move for me. As much as I don’t want the spouse and kids the way John always had, I can’t deny that lately my life has felt…empty. I’m not sure if that’s the right word for it, though. Maybe it’s that I don’t feel fulfilled, and I don’t know what it would take to do that. Whatever it is, the California scene was becoming too much, and being around the only people in the world who I know love me felt like a smart move to make.
I get lost in work, and the next time I come up for air, I realize it’s fifteen after one.
“Fuck.” I send John a quick text that I might be a few minutes late, then head upstairs to shower.
An hour later I pull up at their white colonial revival–style home with oversize trees in the front yard that provide near constant shade. They’ve lived in this house for years. JT used to have a tire swing out front, and they put in a pool in the back when he was thirteen.
Both John’s and Callie’s vehicles are out front, along with one I don’t recognize, so I assume it’s her friend’s. JT’s car isn’t there, and I frown, wondering if he’s running late or if he found out this is a setup to talk him into going to college.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I get out, let myself in through the gate that leads to their backyard, and walk around the house, knowing they’ll likely be out there. It’s May, so the weather is nice without being crazy hot or humid yet. I haven’t spent a whole summer in North Carolina since I was a teenager. It’s going to be a huge difference from San Francisco.
The three of them are sitting on lawn chairs, and Callie looks up, her blue eyes sparkling when she sees me. “Hey, Marsh!”
She pushes to her feet and comes right over to give me a hug. Callie is one of the best people I know, and she and John couldn’t be more perfect for each other. I’ve always been thankful that it’s her John ended up with. She can be good at calming some of his more compulsive tendencies.
“Hey, you.” I hug her back and kiss her cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine,” John answers. “As you can tell, JT isn’t here yet anyway.” His brown hair is wet as if he got out of the shower not too long ago himself. Callie is blond, and JT’s messy mop is a mixture of the two of them.
“Hi. I’m Amanda.” Callie’s friend stands, and I head her way.
“Marshall. Nice to meet you.” We shake, and she gives me a kind smile. Before we have the chance to say much, there’s a noise behind us, and I turn around to see JT.
“Sorry I’m late.” He runs a hand through his golden-brown hair the way he often does. He’s dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts that are perfect for the warmer afternoon. JT is about three inches shorter than my six feet two, but he’s leaner than I am, his body type similar to John’s.
“We’re used to it by now.” John chuckles, and while I know he means it as a joke and he’s really not the kind of guy to get mad at his son for being late, JT flinches. I cock my head, paying attention because that’s not something I’ve noticed before.
JT immediately smiles, and I wonder if I imagined it when he holds out his hand for Amanda and says, “Hi, I’m JT. Nice to meet you.”
“Amanda. I’m friends with your mom,” she tells him before JT turns his attention to me.
“What’s up, old man?” He nudges me with his arm.
“Your dad said the same thing to me earlier. Is this Pick-on-Marsh Day?” I tease, enjoying the banter.
“Every day should be Pick-on-Marsh Day,” John adds.
“Like father, like son.” I flick my gaze to JT and see him look away. He doesn’t seem upset, nor does he flinch like he did before, but something is off about his reaction.
We move to the outdoor table, and JT offers to help his mom get everyone a drink, but she tells him she’s got it. JT nods and grins.
I tell myself I misjudged his reactions earlier. Or hell, that it’s normal—this is what families do. But I’ve always been the type to pay attention, to look for signs in people, and I realize I never have with JT before, or that I’ve missed a lot.