Chapter 18
Eighteen
L eslie
“You could drive a goddamned semi through that line. What were they thinking? And how did he miss that block? Oh, come on!”
Randy was at that point in the night when he was up and pacing and shouting at the screen. Sandy was at his point in the night when he was alternatively pulling his hair out and plugging his ears shouting, “Shut up, dude. I can’t even think when you do that!”
Leslie balled up a piece of paper and chucked it at Randy’s head. “Simmer down over there. Let’s just get through this last film and call it a night.”
“But seriously! How are these kids going to protect him when they are too busy doing the cha-cha or whatever the fuck they’re doing is that’s not holding the line?!”
“Pipe down,” Leslie shouted, chucking more paper wads at Randy, who ducked.
The wad bounced off Joe’s forehead and he caught it in his fist.
“Wow. Am I interrupting?”
Randy cursed, Sandy told him to shut up again, and Leslie paused the film on the screen.
“Actually, I think you just saved me,” Leslie muttered. He pushed himself up to standing and switched on the lights. “You two get out of here. I’ll see you at home. We’ll finish in the morning.”
“Uh, classes start tomorrow. You have conference at nine and one on Wednesdays, remember?”
Leslie’s cheeks heated and he ran a hand through his hair. “Right.” He really wished Joe hadn’t been there to hear that. “Thank you.” He leaned his weight onto his elbows on the table and sighed, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Okay, we’ll see you at home.” Sandy got the hint and practically dragged Randy out of the room. Joe stepped aside as they passed and waved at them.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“You want some of this spaghetti?”
“No, thank you. I grabbed a protein bar after my shower. I just…Les, I’m sorry about earlier.”
Leslie held up his hand and shook his head. “Stop it. It’s fine. I know we have to be careful in front of the kids.” He dropped his face into his hands. “I’m just tired.”
“Hey,” Joe said, moving swiftly through the tables. “Are you having a migraine?”
Leslie just grunted. He’d been trying to ignore it all afternoon. “I was trying to push through it. So much to do today.”
Joe stepped behind him and shushed him. He placed his hands on Leslie’s shoulders. “Shoulder rub, or want me to focus on your head?”
“You don’t have to—”
“Not here? Okay, shall I drive you home, or are you coming back to my place? Because I’m not leaving you alone.”
Leslie had spent all day in a funk. First, he’d had a bumpy flight home from Dallas and then he was unsure what had happened between the previous night’s conversation and seeing Joe this morning.
And then he cursed himself for letting it affect him.
He had huge responsibilities on his shoulders at the moment and he couldn’t afford to let his personal life put him in a foul mood.
He’d seen firsthand where that road led.
What if he lashed out at someone? What if that someone was a student?
“Leslie?”
“I’m okay. You don’t have to take care of me.” He stood up and towered over Joe, but Joe didn’t back down.
“I don’t have to do anything, you big lug. I want to. Now, either you let me try a couple of things here, or we go back to my place, or I drive you home. But you’re not getting rid of me until my sunshine’s back.”
“Sunshine?”
“Mm-hmm. I have come to require a dose of Leslie Payton sunshine daily. I haven’t had any today, and I know you wouldn’t want me going to bed without my daily requirements.” Joe wrapped his arms around Leslie’s torso and sighed as he pressed his cheek to Les’s chest.
Leslie chuckled and hugged him back, thinking there was something to this daily requirement. Joe’s damp hair brushed his chin and Leslie inhaled deeply, loving the Joe Judd cocoon treatment.
“I like doing this. I wouldn’t be at all opposed to doing it daily. But seriously, you don’t have to drive me home. I’m okay, just tired.”
Joe looked up with a frown. “It takes a fibber to know a fibber. I know you’re used to covering it up when you have a migraine.
I get it, you don’t want people to worry or think you’re a mess, but Leslie, I’m not people.
I’m Joe. I’m here for you, at least I want to be. Won’t you let me take care of you?”
Leslie dropped his head until their foreheads were touching. “I don’t ever want to be a burden on you, Joe. You or anyone. Having said that, I would love to feel your hands on my head for a little while.”
“Then let me drive you home, babe.”
Leslie wanted to argue but he wanted more time with Joe and damn his body for not cooperating. He looked around at his classroom and figured he’d be here early enough to get it set up. He put an arm around Joe’s shoulders and allowed himself to be led out the door.
“My car’s in the Higdon lot. How about I drive you in yours? It’s closer.”
Leslie handed him the keys. He didn’t have it in him to argue. Joe stood behind him as he climbed up into the cab of his truck and he chuckled as he sat down.
“You look so small down there, Twinkle Toes.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “Watch your feet, Sasquatch.”
Leslie barked out a laugh, but it ricocheted around his brain, making the pain more intense.
He reclined the seat back and let his eyes fall closed.
Joe made a crack about mountain climbing before shutting his door and starting the truck.
Leslie was so tired, he muttered his address, but he wasn’t sure if he said San Mateo, which was his home during his 49ers years, or if he said State Route 2, which was his current home.
Regardless, the next thing he remembered was Joe pulling open his door.
“Now don’t squish me, Sasquatch.” Joe caught his weight as Leslie slid out of the cab and stumbled a bit.
“I should probably drive the Lincoln for a while, especially if you’re taking me home. Could you reach the pedals?”
Joe poked him in the side and pulled Leslie’s arm over his shoulders. “At five-eleven, I am taller than the average male, for your information.”
“How tall is the average male?” Leslie asked. “I would have thought six feet.”
“Nope. It’s five-nine. I checked. My manager kept telling me I was not getting parts because I was too tall, and I thought for sure I was short.”
“So two inches makes or breaks a dance career, huh?”
Joe snorted. “Two inches makes a big difference, Leslie. Size does matter.”
Leslie groaned as he pushed open the front door.
“Mom will be in bed; who knows about my brothers. I’m upstairs and to the left.”
He led Joe to the massive staircase that took up the middle of the first floor.
There was a library and dining room off to the left and to the right was the formal sitting room and the master suite where Agnes stayed.
The kitchen, family room, and game room spanned the entire back of the house.
Leslie and Joe made their way slowly up the stairs giggling about inches and sizes until they reached the top.
The door to the twins’ wing was shut and Leslie shushed Joe when he heard their voices.
“Let’s not invite trouble.”
And then he knocked into a table and a glass of water fell over, spilling all over the rug. The twins’ door flew open and they barreled through the opening together.
“What the—”
“Shhh, you’ll wake Mom.”
“Boys?”
Agnes came into view at the bottom of the stairs and Leslie sighed.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Oh, I didn’t know we had company.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly and pulled her robe shut to cover up her Motley Crüe T-shirt.
Her long silver-streaked blonde hair was piled up in a messy bun and her bright smile lit up the room.
At sixty-seven, she was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful…
and happy. Happy as she’d been when Leslie and Barry were boys and Rick Payton was in his prime with the San Francisco 49ers.
Happy as she’d been when Rick retired and she’d looked forward to their life together really starting.
He liked to see her happy, but it also reminded him of the times she wasn’t.
When Rick started having headaches, when his mood changed and he became violent.
When he had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s and early onset dementia.
When he died at the age of fifty-two from a stroke and what turned out to be complications of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy.
Leslie teared up at how beautiful and happy she looked in that moment, that she could be happy still after what she’d been through. His stomach clenched at the terrifying thought that he could put her through that again.
When Leslie didn’t speak, Joe stepped forward with a smile.
“Sorry, Mrs. Payton. I was just seeing Leslie home. I’m Joe.”
“It’s great to finally meet you, Joe! I look forward to chatting with you. Soon. Leslie was supposed to invite you to dinner.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
God, he was a forty-five-year-old man living with his mother and just got caught sneaking his boyfriend up to his room.
“It’s fine, honey. I’m gonna get back to Criminal Minds . Good night!”
She trotted back to the bedroom and shut her door and the twins broke out laughing.
“Busted.”
“Don’t worry,” Sandy said. “We’ll get this cleaned up. You should get some rest.” His smile melted as he apparently recognized the fact that Joe was supporting Leslie’s weight and this wasn’t a social call. “Do you need anything?”
Leslie frowned. Don’t say anything , he tried to telegraph to his brother. Joe knew he had migraines. He didn’t need to know anything else.
“We’re good.”
“Good night,” Joe said and he looked up at Leslie expectantly.