Chapter Fifteen July #5
Nick steered them toward a lake closer to where he grew up. The whole drive over, Nick nervously babbled about the movie, the theater, the director, the actors; Brady let him, occasionally humming in agreement or chuckling at a joke.
Nearly an hour later, Nick pulled into a spot by the path that led around the water. Before he’d even cut the ignition, Brady’s hand was on the back of his neck, thumb tickling at the hair there. “Wanna go for a walk?”
Nick pouted. “You said we were going to make out.”
“Technically I asked if there was a make-out spot. I didn’t say we would make out. Let’s go for a walk; we can always kiss when we get back.”
“You’re so mean to me,” he whined, but dutifully unbuckled. “It’s a two-mile trail. You sure you’re up for it in this heat?”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I’ve run every lake path in Howard County multiple times. This isn’t even the nicest, but it doesn’t close at dusk.”
With a heavy sigh, Brady opened the passenger door. “Well, two miles isn’t terrible. Just don’t make me run ’em.”
Nick followed him out of the car, the heat and lake smell bringing him back to his youth. “Why not? You’re the one dressed like you’re about to go to the gym. I’m in khakis.”
“You saying I’d actually win a race?”
“Race to the pier up there and find out?” he offered. Not bothering to wait for an answer, he took off. He hated sprinting, it wasn’t his event at all, but when he heard Brady running after him, he pushed.
“And the champion”—Nick panted as he skidded to a halt just off the pier—“is Nick Porter! The crowd goes wild!”
He had time to do a victory lap around the pier before Brady caught up, jogging and wheezing.
“You do this for fun?” he asked between breaths.
“I mean, I’d usually do at least a mile—”
“Ugh.” Brady practically collapsed onto the grass, sprawled out with his shirt rucked up to expose his belly button.
Asshole.
Nick sat next to him and smiled widely. “You’re cute when you’re dying.”
Brady groaned. He patted the grass next to him until Nick lay down beside him.
“You know there are no natural lakes in Maryland? They’re all man-made.”
Brady snorted; he’d caught his breath at least. “Your state is so weird.”
“You guys have Philly in yours, so…”
“Ew, don’t remind me.”
“You also have Pittsburgh, but I feel like you don’t understand that that’s an insult—” He laughed when Brady pinched his side.
“Don’t go off like your state doesn’t drown everything in Old Bay.”
“Old Bay is delicious, so you’re welcome.”
“Old Bay is an atrocity to tastebuds everywhere. If I never eat it again, it’ll be too soon.”
“I should send you up with some when you go for Thanksgiving. See if your family likes the culinary joy of Old Bay fries.”
Brady choked on a laugh. “They would hate it. I’m totally going to bring some.”
Fingers, clammy and warm, found their way to his. Nick turned to face Brady and smiled at him in encouragement. “I’m so happy I get to corrupt you with my Maryland ways. I’ll get a ‘y’all’ out of you one these days, I swear.”
“Over my dead body,” Brady said seriously. Then he leaned in and kissed Nick’s nose before pulling back, the whole thing so fast Nick wasn’t sure it’d happened except for the tingling on his skin. “Tell me about your races when you were a kid. You ran here?”
“Uh, yeah,” Nick started. He flushed in the growing twilight.
They talked all the time, but rarely did it venture into their past and their lives outside each other.
“Not for races, just for fun. I think a middle school around here did a fun-run thing once, and they had us track kids from all the high schools come to help out.”
“Nice. We always liked it when the high-school kids would come do drills with us back in elementary school. They were so big and fast. Coolest people ever,” Brady said wistfully. “A lot of good hockey memories back then.”
Quietly, carefully, he asked, “You wanna talk about it?”
Brady heaved a deep sigh. “No.”
“Okay.” It was hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Wanna talk about something else?”
Silence for a moment, and then, “Maybe not? Can we watch the stars for a bit?”
Nick squeezed Brady’s hand where it lay in his on the grass between them. “Yeah, we could do that. But I was promised making out, so I’m going to cash that in before the end of the night.”
“Deal.”
*
Nick pulled at the collar of his suit. It was too damn hot out to be in the thick wool with a tie slowly strangling him.
Maybe he should’ve gone a bit more casual, but Jenna was insistent that if they attended the fundraiser, they had to look nice.
So here he and Terry were, fidgeting in their suits while Jenna took Jess and Gail on a tour of the museum.
Jenna’s work often threw fundraisers to supplement the other donations they received.
The museum didn’t charge admission, and so Jenna and the other curators sometimes had to get creative with exhibits and events.
They did a great job; across all of Nick’s visits, he’d never found the museum lacking.
Their fundraisers were always top-notch. He remembered the first one he’d attended after college. He had actual money in his pocket, and he’d had fun bidding on the silent auction items and pretending he was a fancy socialite instead of a young professional who probably stuck out like a sore thumb.
He still kinda stuck out, but at least when he was part of a group, he felt better about it.
“What are you gonna bid on this year?” Terry asked between sips of his Merlot. He rarely drank wine, and it was clear the effort now was all for show, to add that air of sophistication he felt he needed to blend in. “I think I saw a basket with sports stuff.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “Signed Ovechkin puck and some stuff from other teams I should probably care about but don’t. I already put in my bid. You?”
“Gail’s gonna bid on a river cruise down the Potomac.”
“Fancy.”
“I hope not,” Terry whined. He’d started the night with his tie perfectly knotted and in place; it’d been an hour and it hung loosely from his neck. Each time he pulled at it, it inched closer to becoming untied. “Why do we have to wear these stupid things? Why is this a thing?”
Nick shrugged and finished off his wine. “I’m gonna get some more. Want some?”
Terry looked at his glass, his first of the evening and still at least half full. “Nah. Get me some of those little nacho thingies? Like five?”
Trying not to laugh at his cousin hoarding hors d’oeuvres, he nodded and left the table.
It gave him time to check his bid on the auction as he made a round of the courtyard, lit with hanging lights and filled with soft music from a quartet playing on a stage built alongside the fountain.
It was a good touch, very whimsical or whatever word Jenna had used when she’d described it to him weeks ago.
By the time he made it back with his fresh glass of wine and an absurd number of snacks, the girls had returned.
Jess was attached to the arm of one of Jenna’s co-workers, asking him about some painting as she dragged him onto the dance floor.
Terry and Gail followed suit (though notably not until Terry had stuffed two nachos into his mouth and given Nick a thumbs up in thanks), looking every bit a cute couple.
Nick couldn’t take his eyes off Terry and Gail. They slipped their hands together with practiced ease, effortlessly fell into step, danced awkwardly but adorably like the point was to be near each other. It was a good look on them, and it made something in Nick’s chest clinch uncomfortably.
“You know,” Jenna said. “If you’d asked, I could’ve tried to get another invitation for Brady.”
“I know,” he said as casually as possible, and turned away from Terry and Gail. “I never got around to asking.”
It was half true. He’d been so caught up in Brady, he’d legitimately forgotten about tonight until Jenna mentioned it a week ago.
And then he’d been too nervous to bring it up because sure Brady might come along, but what if he didn’t want to?
He’d only just gotten Brady to go out to new places with him, and he was sure it was because those places were filled with strangers who wouldn’t give them a second glance.
It’d take a lot of work to frame coming to an event like this as anything but a date, especially if they were wearing suits and drinking wine while mingling with other couples.
The fact that he was too scared to ask his sort-of-boyfriend on an actual date that other people knew about was pretty telling.
“You know what I’m going to say,” Jenna warned. “I’m gonna keep saying it because I think you need to hear it.”
Nick didn’t argue. Maybe he did need to hear it.
“Gail says you guys don’t act much like a couple at games,” she started, pausing to gauge his reaction before continuing.
“Like, she knows you two are… well, whatever you are, she knows about it. Most of the time she says she can’t see a difference between how you guys are now and how you were before, except that you both smile more. ”
“How should we look?” Nick asked, like he didn’t have his own ideas about it.
“However you want to,” Jenna said with a shrug. “It’s worth spending the time to figure out what you want, and maybe you should clue Brady in, in case he wants something drastically different.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. He hoped Jenna would let it go now that she’d spoken her mind.
To his disappointment, she wasn’t done yet.
“I get that you like him. He’s a decent guy from what I can tell, but he’s clearly got his own baggage, and you ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away.
I’m worried you’ve put him on this pedestal, and now that you’re together, you’re too worried about shaking him off it to see that he’s an actual person.
The longer you put off talking about it, the worse the fallout’s gonna be. ”
Nick sat there and stared at the tablecloth. He blinked a few times because his eyes felt too wet, and he hoped it wasn’t too obvious.
A hand squeezed his shoulder. “I’m on your side,” Jenna said. “I’m not trying to be mean or get you down. I’m worried. You have trouble seeing things when you’re too close, and I know you don’t like confrontation. Talk to Terry if you need advice; he seems to know what’s up.”
That sparked something in Nick, a moment of realization.
Terry and Gail were a great couple. They clicked so well and were good for each other.
Terry was happier. Gail was mellower. They balanced each other out…
and none of that was beyond what Nick saw him and Brady being able to become.
The real difference was Nick could look over right now and see them dancing together in the middle of a crowded room, not caring how many eyes were on them.
They weren’t hiding. They weren’t afraid. They weren’t tiptoeing around each other.
And maybe Brady wasn’t hiding things, or if he was, it wasn’t for the reasons Nick thought. But Nick was scared, in all these little ways that strangled him whenever he tried to bring it up to Brady.
“I’m guessing they talk to each other,” Nick croaked. “About things other than hockey.”
“Considering Terry barely knows the difference between hockey and figure skating, I doubt they’re talking much hockey. But yeah, they talk. That’s why he gets to dance with his girlfriend in the courtyard while you’re stuck here, making me make you cry.”
“I’m not crying.” Yet. His eyes were wet, and he could feel his throat tightening.
Jenna gave him a skeptical once-over.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay. You’re fine. But talk to him, won’t you? I swear, if he’s an even remotely functioning human being, it’s not going to be as bad as you think. It might be bad at first, but it can only get better from there. Just talk.”
Nick thought back to that night on the bay, when they did talk and he felt he’d actually made some tangible progress in getting to understand Brady. Then he thought about all the times when they should have talked but hadn’t. It wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t as easy as Jenna made it seem.
“Maybe,” he said. Every time he imagined talking things out, it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, not sure if he’d survive the fall. “I’ll try.”
Jenna didn’t look like she believed him. He barely believed himself, so he understood the doubt. “Good,” she said and went back to her own glass of wine. “I’ve gotta go make rounds. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I need a minute anyway.”
But when Jenna walked away, all he had left were his thoughts and a clear view of Terry laughing while Gail dipped him. They were adorable, and it only made him more miserable.
I’ll talk to Brady, he swore. We’ll figure out if we’re actually dating or what the hell is going on, and it’ll be fine.
It would be fine. Right?