Chapter 3 #2
Well, hell. Brantley couldn’t fault him for that. The only problem was…talking wasn’t what sprang to mind when he was around Daniel Finley.
He clasped his hands on the desk and stared into the anxious face peering down at him. Daniel was worrying his lower lip with his teeth, and he suddenly looked very much the young man he was.
“Are you?” he asked again, and there was no way Brantley could deny that hesitant curiosity.
“Yes, Daniel. I am.”
As his words drifted between them, Daniel’s mouth slipped into a smile. “Oh.”
Brantley laughed at that. He wasn’t sure what Daniel was thinking right then.
He’d thought for sure with the way he’d been looking at him earlier that if he’d admitted this, he would be fending off— or at least putting up a good show of fending off— an unwanted pass.
But instead, Daniel appeared thoughtful.
“Does that bother you?”
Daniel adamantly shook his head. “No.”
“Are you sure?” Brantley asked, and the look that entered Daniel’s eyes then was so hot that he thought he might overheat.
“Yes. I'm very sure.”
Oh, fuck. Okay. Where the hell did the nervous guy disappear to? One minute, Daniel was endearingly awkward, and the next, he was looking at Brantley like he wanted to strip him out of his clothes and ? —
“Stop right there,” he said, and he wasn’t sure if he was telling himself or the contradiction eyeing him with newfound knowledge. “Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it.”
“Why?”
Yep, he was fucked. That wasn’t a word he generally used, but in this case, he was well and truly fucked. He should’ve just stuck to the run-along-now speech.
“Because I'm your teacher.”
“This isn’t high school. I’m an adult.”
He sighed. “That may be true. But I’m your professor and this conversation is inappropriate.”
“How? I just asked if you were gay and you said yes. I don't see what the problem is.”
When Daniel aimed a mischievous grin at him, Brantley knew he was very aware of what the problem was.
“Out,” he said, pointing to the door. “Time to leave, Mr. Finley.”
This time, he made sure to watch Daniel so he knew he was actually leaving. Daniel walked to the door, but at the last minute, he turned around to look back at him. Not willing to back down and show weakness, Brantley kept his eyes on his student as Daniel ran his tongue along his lower lip.
“You should call me Finn. Everyone else does.”
Christ. The kid was going to drive him to an early grave, but damn if he didn’t laugh at his audacity.
“Out,” he said again, and this time Daniel pushed out the door and disappeared into the hall.
AFTER DANIEL HAD hit up the local grocery store for his mom, he’d swung back to pick up his sister, who had been suspiciously quiet the entire drive home.
Every now and then, he’d caught her looking at him with a pleased grin on her face, no doubt due to the note she’d delivered that morning.
He, however, had chosen to ignore the elephant in the car, just like he did with anything that made him feel…
vulnerable. And his relationship, or whatever he had, with Brantley Hayes was at the top of that list.
To take his mind off the coming evening, he’d been a good son and spent the afternoon catching up with his mother.
She’d filled him in about the ladies she played golf with every Tuesday and Thursday and how her handicap had improved immensely.
Just last week, she’d won a ham. Life in her little piece of paradise was just peachy, she’d assured him.
Daniel wasn’t a fool by anyone’s standards, though, and he’d known that it’d taken a while to adjust when he’d left to study in Chicago.
At first she hadn’t believed he wanted to go.
But she’d given him her blessing after he’d assured her that was what he’d wanted.
It hadn’t been easy, however, to sit in front of her and try to convince her that he had been excited about his future when, deep down, he’d been torn apart over the very idea of leaving Brantley behind.
Not that it had seemed to bother the professor all that much when he’d shut the door in Daniel’s face that final time.
But he hadn’t been able to tell her that, because along with the reason why he’d wanted to finish his studies in Chicago, his relationship with Brantley was the only other secret he’d kept from her.
So he’d gone away, just as his illustrious professor had advised, and Daniel had studied, worked hard, and done everything in his power to forget Brantley.
That had been easier said than done, though, and no matter how many men he’d kissed or taken home for the night, he’d continued to compare them to the one who’d sent him away.
Now, he was back, and he wasn’t sure he could get past the resentment he felt toward Brantley. To this day, he still couldn’t forgive him for thinking he had known what was best for him, and pushing him into a decision that had changed their lives forever.
He had questions he wanted answers to. And he had given himself two weeks to get them. Then, maybe after he’d had his fill of Brantley Hayes, he’d finally be able to get him out of his system.
He took a swig of his beer and walked down the half-dozen stairs to the sand, where he kicked his flip-flops to the side of the bottom stair and then slowly made his way toward the water.
As the soft grains of sand shifted underfoot, he looked down the long expanse of the beach. It was an hour or so before sunset, and couples were walking along the shoreline hand in hand while several fishermen waded in the water up to their calves as they cast their lines out into the surf.
He’d missed this place. And it was moments like these, the quiet moments, when he realized how much.
Back in Chicago, the competitive nature of his job and the hustle of city life made a person fight to stand out. He had to be aggressive to get ahead. But when he came back here, that world seemed to exist on another planet for how removed he felt.
In Florida, he was reminded of who he had been before. Before he’d become cynical, hardened, and tough. Here , people remembered the boy who would laugh at the drop of a hat. The same boy who’d washed their car and lived at the beach all summer long.
They didn’t know the man who’d spent years working himself to exhaustion so he could forget a broken heart. They wouldn’t understand the lengths he’d gone to, or fucked his way through, to forget the one who’d broken it—hell, he barely did.
And not one of them would have ever believed how scared he was that the one person he’d loved all along had never really loved him to begin with…
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Fuck, he really didn’t want a big night tonight.
Didn’t want to be surrounded by friends and family all looking at him with questions and judgment in their eyes.
For his mother, though, he would suck it up and put on a happy smile.
It was the least he could do, and maybe, if he were lucky, Brantley would show as he’d instructed.
He figured there was a pretty good chance, but still, he wouldn’t believe it was a sure thing until he saw the professor walk through the door.
He tried not to think about why he’d invited Brantley to his childhood home. Otherwise, his sole purpose of cornering him and letting him know loud and clear that he was back to fuck him the hell out of his system would seem like a plan with disaster written all over it.