The Boss

Chapter 23

Jamie

Chaz never called, so I assumed dinner with his parents had passed uneventfully. I texted twice over the weekend and never heard back. I’d thought we had some sort of a breakthrough, him coming out to Frenchie’s, but his silence suggested he still wanted space.

I continued to send him daily messages telling him I was thinking about him and had an ear if he ever needed someone to talk to.

With every day wondering over how he fared and hating the distance between us, I found the football practice laborious. Pretty much everything became more of a drag than enjoyment, even working out. Coach Dave managed to keep the kids upbeat while I struggled to focus. Depression crept in stronger as I struggled to hold onto that sense of purpose I thought I’d found in Pippen Creek. Why did I stay when Chaz clearly didn’t want me around?

A complete week of silence on his end, and I slouched in Coach Bernard’s office, still unable to call it mine even though a new whistle hung around my neck on his iconic, frayed, red cord. The kids had cleared out after practice, and I sat alone, staring at some plays Coach Dave had jotted down in scribbled, black ink.

He should have taken over as head coach, and I began to question not remaining in Boston to carve out a new life for myself far from where I’d known nothing but heartache awaited me.

Knee aching, I stretched my leg out and rubbed the tenderness from having pushed a little too hard during my leg workout earlier in the day.

A bark of laughter reached my ears, and I strained to listen, having thought for sure I’d been left alone in my misery. Sure enough, I caught a quiet murmur of voices a few seconds later.

Ready for the meatloaf and baked potatoes Dad had texted me sat waiting in the oven, I decided to head out and clear the locker room on my way.

“Come here,”

someone whispered.

The quiet command sounded so much like me that I had to smile, but I pulled up short when I rounded a row of lockers.

Josh grasped Kyle’s neck and yanked him in, their mouths meeting eagerly.

I stood silent, unsure if I should sneak back how I’d come or?—

“Shit.”

Kyle jerked away from Josh, the blood draining from his face as he caught sight of me. “It’s n-not what it looks like!”

he hastily sputtered.

“Kyle.”

Josh’s low tone only caused his best friend to shake his head, eyes growing wild with fear.

“A m-mistake!”

Josh’s shoulders wilted at his best friend’s claim.

My chest caved in for the boy.

“Nothing wrong with a couple of friends kissing in my book,”

I said with a shrug, hoping to put Kyle at ease. “Also nothing wrong with two boys falling in love and wanting to be together either.”

“Seriously, Coach—this was a one-time thing. Not gonna happen again.”

Kyle grabbed his bag and took off, leaving Josh behind.

The kid slumped, gaze on the floor while reaching for his own backpack on the bench beside him.

“If you love him,”

I murmured, “then love him. Put him first. Sacrifice it all to be with the guy you want. You might lose friends and family, but would he be worth it?”

“Fuck, yeah he would,”

Josh muttered.

I clasped his shoulder, angling him toward the exit.

We stepped out into the cold night.

Kyle leaned against the brick wall, head tipped back and eyes closed. “Sorry,”

he whispered, tipping his face our way. A parking lot light lit him up from above, casting shadows over his anguished face. “It wasn’t a mistake. Definitely not a one-off if that’s still okay with you, Josh?”

A relieved sigh, and Josh dropped his bag and threw himself into Kyle’s arms.

The two boys hugged, and I swallowed hard at the sight before locking up for the night.

When they finally released each other, a flush flooded Kyle’s cheeks.

“So—homecoming?”

Josh’s tone sounded more like a nudge for an answer over something they’d discussed already.

Kyle glanced at me, and I forced a smile. He turned toward his best friend. “Yeah, Joshy—yeah. I’ll go with you.”

My heart soared even as my throat went tight as fuck.

“Go on and get out of here,”

I managed to say past the lump in my throat. “And no more shenanigans in my locker room.”

The boys clutched hands and hurried toward Kyle’s Jeep, and I stood in the cold, barely aware of the nip of the wind as I watched them drive away.

More than anything, I wished I could go back in time and make a move on Chaz like Josh had obviously done with Kyle.

I had considered telling him my truth while in high school, warred over it in fact.

It’d been during the summer after our sophomore year, and with butterflies making my heart flutter, I’d gone over to his house thinking that might be the day for honesty. I’d found him and Shelly lip-locked in their backyard, the first display of PDA even though they’d been “dating”

for a few months.

My chest had cracked wide open, and I’d stuffed down the emotion stinging my eyes. I’d told myself I was going to play in the NFL one day and that no team would want to draft an out and proud gay man anyway. Besides, if he was all up in Shelly’s curves, he wouldn’t be interested in a hard body and dick.

Unrequited desire noted and squashed. At least, I’d attempted to ignore the feelings inside me.

Fucking impossible.

Yearning for Chaz ruled me regardless of the heartache we’d both endured. I was more than ready and willing, but would his mind ever be free so he could return my love even though nothing physical now stood in our way?

With every passing day of silence on his end, I feared a bleak future without him as a lover or friend.

My face must have shown my defeat because Dad eyed me while setting my plate in front of me at the table.

“Stay the course.”

I rolled my eyes at him while shoveling a too-large bite of meatloaf into my mouth.

“What?”

he asked, sitting across from me with a cold beer.

Still chewing, I shook my head. “How do you do it? Read my thoughts when I don’t speak a damn word?”

“You’re my son. I can always tell when you’re struggling with something. We’ve talked the losing season to death, so I’m assuming this is about Chaz?”

I nodded and spooned up a pile of sour cream onto my steaming potato. “He’s completely shut down. I don’t know what to do. Fucking hurts that I can’t be there for him. Hurts even more than the fact he isn’t interested in me.”

“I doubt that last bit is true.”

I shrugged. “Sure as hell seems that way,”

I muttered. “Makes me want to stop texting to check in with him. Ignore him for a few days. See what happens—or doesn’t.”

“Don’t stoop to manipulation, Jamie.”

Rarely did I hear disapproval in Dad’s voice, but that order? Loaded.

I huffed and exhale before digging into my meatloaf again. “Wouldn’t really do that. Just feeling…”

“A little moody? Sulky?”

A grunt was my reply, and Dad chuckled before sipping his beer.

I eyed the man who’d always been my oak. He’d gone through some shit with my mom, and even though she wasn’t in a cold grave, she’d disappeared from our lives as thoroughly as Shelly had Chaz’s.

Had Dad mourned even though Darla had been a piece-of-shit wife and mother?

Not that Shelly had treated Chaz any better in my opinion. She hadn’t deserved my best friend any more than my mom had Chief Sutton Forester, a highly respected man loved by almost everyone in Pippen Creek.

“How did you deal with Mom leaving? I mean, were you heartbroken? Go through those five or seven stages of grief?”

I asked, watching Dad closely. I’d been fourteen, too caught up in my own bullshit to consider what he might have experienced in the wake of her abandoning us.

He glanced around the dining room with its lived-in manliness, the lack of her touch. It’d been over ten years since she’d taken off, and in that time, we’d both done a few purges to rid the house of any evidence she had ever existed.

“In some ways, I suppose I did. Her actions had completely blindsided me, but by then our marriage had been over for years.”

“It’s been a decade, Dad,”

I said, studying the furrow between his eyebrows. “Think you’ll ever be ready to move on? Trust someone enough with your heart that you’d try again?”

A half-smile curved Dad’s lip for the briefest of seconds before dissolving completely. “Doubt it.”

He took a long pull from his beer.

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you ever hook up? I mean, you haven’t been celibate since then have you?”

Dad shifted, his face actually flushing.

“Oh shit.”

I chuckled. “Who is she?”

“Would you be grossed out if I said he?”

I huffed. “Come on, Dad. You know better. Wait. Dexter?”

“What?”

Dad blinked, his head jerking back as though I’d slapped him.

“Dex,”

I repeated. “He’s hot. Ever cross that line?”

I waved my fork in front of me as though drawing one in the air.

“No—hell, no. He’s as far from my type as can be.”

“And what’s that?”

I stabbed into another bite of meatloaf and chewed while Dad gathered his thoughts. We’d talked about sex aplenty, but I’d never pried into his personal life. But now, it felt good to be open with him about adult shit.

“Someone who needs me,”

Dad finally said, twisting his bottle in his hand and taking a sip. “Wants me as a partner. Let me care for them.”

Mom had always been independent as fuck. Probably wouldn’t have married Dad if she hadn’t gotten pregnant her senior year of high school.

Dad had tried with a woman, so why not dick? Maybe even a younger guy in need of a daddy.

I grimaced at the thought that had come out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Just thinking that a younger guy might be a good bet for you.”

I went with honesty as always.

Dad hesitated a second but nodded, seemingly unsurprised.

“Someone needy, but that’s…yeah, no.”

I shook my head even though it looked like he’d given some thought to what I’d suggested already.

Dad finished off his beer and got up to retrieve another one.

I went back to my food, putting Dad’s sexual future way the fuck in the back of my brain where it belonged. Better to be rid of it altogether, but shit had been spoken out loud, so yeah. Not happening. Still—where my mind had gone for Dad? Gross.

“There’s a position down at city hall in Berlin that might be of interest to you,”

Dad said, letting me know he was done discussing his own sex life too. “I could put in a good word if you’re unsure about what to do when the season is over.”

I’d talked to Dad about looking for something to keep me busy, but Pippen Creek didn’t have anything to offer someone with my degree. Hell, they were only hiring waitstaff or shelf stockers over at The Market. And the apple orchard where I’d worked two summers while in high school wasn’t in need of seasonal helpers since the place pretty much shut down until spring.

“It’s only a half hour away,”

Dad said. “Easy commute.”

I nodded while continuing to eat.

“Might be good to get some space.”

“Sick of me already?” I joked.

“You know what I mean.”

Yeah, I did. Being close to Chaz but not having any access to him was wearying. I’d been the one pursuing him, so maybe it was time for me to step back fully—and not do it out of manipulation but honoring his wishes.

Hopefully, Chaz would work through his grief and eventually reach out to me again when he was ready.

And if he wasn’t?

That was something else I would have to learn to deal with alongside all the other disappointments I’d experienced in my twenty-four years.