Chapter Two
Anthony
“Beautiful, Makayla! That was a fantastic combination!” I tell the little girl who beams up at me, bouncing on her feet and making the beads at the ends of her braids clink together.
“Thanks, Mr. Anthony! I was working on it all week.”
I’ve been giving private dance lessons to Makayla for close to two years now, and the growth in her is amazing.
I love teaching dance to kids, love giving them the outlet I had to fight so hard for when I was a child.
While I don’t have a lot of clients, all of them are students who, whether because of money issues or other difficulties, likely wouldn’t be able to dance if it wasn’t for me, and doing that kind of work means something to me.
Makayla’s dad passed away, and her mom is doing the best she can by the little girl she loves so much, and if I can make that easier on them with free or low-cost lessons, I’m damn sure going to do it.
“It paid off,” I tell her as we continue with the lesson, her mom watching and grinning from one of the chairs along the wall of the studio I rent.
Once we’re done, Makayla runs to the back to change, and I join her mom. “She’s doing great,” I tell Chelsea.
“Thanks! It’s so fun to see her fall in love with dancing. It’s brightened up her world so much since losing her daddy.”
“It was my happy place too. The good thing for Makayla is it’s only one of her safe spaces. She’s lucky to have you.”
“We’re lucky to have you.” Chelsea grabs my hand and squeezes it.
“I do this for me too. I love it.”
She offers up a smile, then asks, “Are you doing anything fun today? I’m heading to work after this. I’m dropping Makayla off with my sister.”
“I’m going out with this guy I know.”
“Ooooh. A date?”
I chuckle. “No, just a friend thing.” Dating is so off my radar, I’m surprised I remember the definition of the word.
I’ve always just looked to have a good time.
I never wanted anything serious, and then I thought something serious had found me.
Being with Malcolm taught me to never even attempt to take that road again.
Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I’m not the guy someone like Mads would look for.
He’s sweet, bighearted. The guy tears up when we watch soap operas, for God’s sake.
Why would he want to take a chance on someone who clearly doesn’t know the first thing about relationships and is much happier with no-strings-attached flings?
“Well, you never know. Maybe it’ll turn into more, and if not, it’s nice to just spend time with friends.”
It really is. I’m enjoying my friendship with Mads even more than I thought I would. There’s something calming about him, something that makes him easy to talk to—and coming from me, someone who puts it all out there unless it’s from all those vulnerable places inside me, that means something.
The thing is…he’s hot…like super hot and the more time I spend with him, the more attracted to him I become, and that’s not what I should be thinking about when it comes to our friendship.
Makayla comes out, and we say our goodbyes. I have another lesson, and then I clean up and return to my apartment in West Hollywood.
I fuck around there for the rest of the day before it’s time to get ready for my night out with Mads.
It’s nice of him to want to pick me up. That’s the kind of guy he is, though.
Sometimes I feel like I should pinch myself—am I really living in a world where I own a WeHo bar, teach dance, have good friends, and now I can count the Kason Maddox as one of them?
Young me could have never imagined this life for myself.
It’s why I don’t push for more. It can’t get much better than this.
I put on my favorite green shirt that goes well with my eyes. It’s a tight V-neck, which I pair with jeans.
Just as I finish getting ready, there’s a knock at the door. I can’t help grinning, and it only grows when I pull the door open and see Mads there.
He’s not wearing a backward hat like he often does, his dark hair neater than usual. He’s freshly shaved and wearing a nice button-up.
“You look great,” I tell him.
“Thanks! I was just about to say the same thing to you.”
I’m surprised when he leans in and kisses me on the cheek. Oh. That was different. But then, what do I know? Mads and I are getting closer, and he must be an affectionate guy like that. I kiss Donovan and Hayes. Why can’t Mads kiss me?
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yep!” I grab my keys and cell, and we head out.
I’m lucky enough to have a guest parking spot at my building, which is what Mads used. He drives an SUV, which is absolutely ridiculous to me.
“You know what they say about a guy who drives an SUV, don’t you?” I ask when Mads gets into the driver’s seat.
“That they can easily carry around hockey gear?” He raises a brow, a mischievous grin cocking one side of his mouth.
“Okay, so that’s a good point. I didn’t think about that.”
“If you were going to make a joke about compensating for something, I can tell you I might not be the biggest guy around, but I haven’t had complaints.”
“I think you might be the first man I’ve ever known who doesn’t claim to have the world’s biggest ass-wrecking—or pussy-wrecking or both—sized cock.” From what I understand, Mads is bisexual, unlike me, who’s only ever been into men.
“Inclusion! I like it!” He turns on the car and pulls out.
“You’d be surprised by the amount of bi-erasure I hear from people, both inside and outside the queer community.
It’s a strange world where so many people are still stuck in the binary, whether it’s only recognizing straight or gay, male or female. So thank you for that.”
I’m not sure what to say at first. Everything Mads said is true, and while I’m not perfect, I do try to be inclusive, but man, and I know I’ve said this before, he’s just so…
good. He tries to be so intentional in what he says and does.
It doesn’t fit the idea I have in my head about most people, but keeping it real, it doesn’t feel very professional-hockey-player of him.
While things are obviously better nowadays, we can’t pretend hockey isn’t very white and very straight.
“What?” Mads asks, and I realize I haven’t replied.
“Nothing. You’re just…kind, and different.”
“Hopefully that’s a good thing?”
“It is.”
“Good because my experience says nice guys finish last.”
“Right? What is that? I don’t understand it, but it’s true. This coming from someone who is fully part of the problem.”
He frowns. “You’re kind.”
“Yes, but I’m typically attracted to assholes.”
Mads chuckles. “Damn. That’s not good.”
“It’s a curse, I tell you. That’s never been a problem for you?”
Mads shakes his head. “Not really. I’m not saying it’s always been perfect. I’ve had my heart broken, had things just not work out or realize someone isn’t who I thought they were, but I’m not one who ends up being drawn to a person who doesn’t treat others well.”
“Teach me your ways, oh wise one,” I tease.
Not that I want a relationship, but it would be nice not to have an asshole’s dick in my mouth again.
And speaking of dick in my mouth, I do miss that.
I’m not sure why I haven’t hooked up lately.
I just haven’t made the time, I guess. Why can’t I just have easy sex without the work involved of going on apps—and okay, it’s not a lot of work, so I’m not sure what’s going on with me.
He smiles. “Maybe that’s about to change.”
“Maybe.”
I hope he’s right. And clearly, it’s physically possible for me to be attracted to nice guys since I would love to live in a world where I could freely jump his bones, climb him like a tree, and anything else I could think of, but I’m fairly certain no-strings-attached sex isn’t his thing.
We could never be anything more because first, as I said, I doubt Mads would want that with me, and even if he did, I’m sure I would find a way to ruin it.
The last thing I want is to do anything that will mess up this budding friendship. I could use more of those.
It’s not long until we get to the restaurant, and on our way in, Mads nudges my arm with his. “I also have a small electric vehicle.”
“Huh?”
“At home. I have an electric car. I’ll remember to drive it next time. Gotta score some points after the SUV debacle.”
I chuckle, the grin on my face felt in my chest—real, not manufactured. “Kason Maddox, you’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. You already have infinity points.”
He grins.
I grin.
Why are we grinning?
“But is that really a good thing? When nice guys finish last?”
It would be impossible not to realize what a catch he is, or for Mads to finish last in anything. “Not when it comes to you. If that’s the case, this whole game of life is rigged.”
He holds the door open for me. “If a guy with infinity points can’t win, there’s definitely a problem.”
My stomach gets fluttery, but I do my best to ignore it.
I won’t ruin this friendship with Mads, I won’t ruin this friendship with Mads.
“Table for two?” the hostess asks.
“We have a reservation for Anthony,” Mads says, and I look at him, scrunching up my nose slightly, surprised he used my name. Mads gives me a look in return that says he’ll tell me in a moment.
The hostess leads us to a table by a window, and we take our seats.
“My name?” I ask.
“I’m careful with mine sometimes. People might notice me, of course, but I try not to leave reservations as Kason Maddox. The situation isn’t the same as being a Hollywood celebrity or anything, but I’ve had some weird situations.”
“Do you have a code name?”
Mads snickers. “I usually just use Kason and my middle name. I guess that’s the benefit of most people calling me by a nickname.”
“Do you miss being called Kason?”
“Sometimes. My parents use it, obviously. They’re not going around calling me Mads.”
The waiter comes over, a sexy guy in his early twenties with black hair and black-painted nails.
His nametag says Sota. He gives me the kind of smile I’m familiar with—not one that says he’s trying to scope me out for a possible hookup, but one I recognize as most queer people would.
There’s something different to the eye contact we make that straight people would probably never see or understand.
“Is this your first time here?” he asks, then gives us a quick overview of the menu. I order a glass of wine, and Mads gets a tea.
When we’re alone again, I ask, “What’s your middle name?”
He gives me a cheeky smirk. “Anthony.”
“What?”
“That’s my middle name.”
“Shut up.” No way. “Are you serious?”
“Kason Anthony Maddox.”
“Dude. We’re name twins.”
“Your middle name doesn’t happen to be Kason, does it?”
I roll my eyes playfully. “No. It’s Gian. Which is strange. It was my mom’s father’s name, and considering he disowned her at nineteen, I’ve always wondered why she named me after him.”
It takes me a moment to realize what I just did. I can’t believe I gave Mads that piece of me. I’m not good at sharing many of the truths about who I am.
“Shit, man. I’m sorry. That’s tough. You still don’t have a relationship with him now?”
Well, hell. I’ve gotten myself in a situation, haven’t I?
If I don’t want to answer the question, I’m a dick since I’m the one who brought it up, but I also really don’t want to talk about it.
“No. I never met him. He and my grandmother died in an accident before I was born.” I don’t even know if they knew about me, cared about me.
What I do know is they were never willing to give my mom another chance.
They walked away from the black sheep of the family and promptly forgot about her.
Same as my uncle, until he got stuck with me.
I catch movement in my periphery and realize Mads is reaching across the table.
He sets his hand on top of mine, giving it a squeeze.
I can’t help watching the movement, savoring the feel of his skin against mine.
It’s a caring touch, not one that comes with expectations or ulterior motives.
It’s Kason’s personality in physical form…
and I like it. Not for the first time, I’m thankful we’re becoming friends.
“I’m sorry. That’s really shitty.”
“It is what it is. I’d like to hear some of those stories, though.”
He frowns. “What stories?”
“The weird situations with your name.”
“Oh, I can do that. Let’s see what we want to eat first, so we’re ready when our waiter comes back—totally queer, by the way.”
“Right? I noticed that too.”
“Then we’ll get into all the strange things that come with being me.”
“Deal.”
Again, my smile is real. Malcolm might have done a lot of terrible things to me, but because of him, I have the jilted exes in my life, the best friends I’ve ever had.
And because of them, I have Eric, Ana, Rylan, and now Kason, whose friendship is becoming even more important to me.
I’m not sure how I got so lucky in the friends department, but I’ll do anything not to fuck it up.