30. Jackson
JACKSON
I leave early in the morning, whispering goodbye.
Stone’s eyes barely flutter open. He murmurs something I can’t understand—a cross between hi and don’t go .
“I promised Terrence and Cruz I’d go for a five-mile run with them, then work out. And Ryan is in town for his interview, so we’re having lunch. He’s the guy I’m mentoring.”
With a yawn, Stone lifts his arm, reaching for my face. “Miss you already. Come see me later.”
I clasp his hand to my cheek, holding him closer. “I will. I promise.”
A soft smile plays on his lips. “Good. I’ll be thinking of you.”
“Same.” I run a hand over his hair as he drifts back to slumber.
I leave, saying hi to Cruz outside the room.
He wiggles his brows. “Did you have a good pizza?”
I flip him the bird. “I’ll see you in a half hour so I can destroy you.”
He scoffs. “Good luck with that.”
I go to my room, brush my teeth, and wash the night off me so I won’t smell like the sex maniac I am when I work out with my friends. I put on running clothes and head to the lobby.
As Cruz’s shift ends, and a backup bodyguard covers for Terrence, I meet the guys outside the hotel.
We pile into a Lyft and make our way to Red Rock to run there. We talk some as we go. Terrence says he misses Melody. Cruz misses his little girl and his wife. I tell them I’m going to see Bethany in a few more days.
“And will you miss Stone?”
The question comes from Cruz as we crest a hill. Simple, direct.
On the downhill, I answer him the same way. “Yes, but . . .”
Terrence snaps his gaze my way. “Yes, but what?”
“Yes, but there are a million issues.”
Cruz knits his brow as he pounds the path. “A million, man? A million? Seems more like one .”
“Yes, one . Feels like a million,” I say as the sun rises higher.
“Does it though?” Terrence counters.
“Yes, it does.”
“Or does it feel like a million because you don’t know what you’re going to do about the fact that you’ll miss him?” Terrence asks.
I swallow roughly, my throat dry but not from the heat. More from the inquisition. But it’s a grilling I need.
I slow my pace some more, shake my head, then opt to level with my friends. Now is not the time to be macho. Now is the time to ask for help. “I don’t know what to do.”
Like a car slamming on the brakes, we all slow to a jog.
“What are your options?” Terrence asks.
I drag a hand over my hair. “I don’t know. That’s the thing. I just don’t know.”
“Do you want to be with him? Does he want to be with you?” Cruz asks.
Those are valid, important questions. A few days ago, I didn’t know the answer to either of them. Maybe twenty-four hours ago I didn’t know the answer to the second one.
Now I’m pretty sure the answers to both are the same.
“Yes, and yes,” I say with a heavy sigh.
Terrence offers me a palm to high-five. Cruz makes a fist for knocking. Shaking my head, I push out a laugh. “Guys,” I say, smacking back, then knocking. “It’s not that simple.”
“You’re right,” Cruz says in his no-nonsense fashion. “It’s not simple in the least. But it’s awesome.” He raps his fist against his sternum. “It’s awesome right here that you feel that way for another person. Life is short. Love is beautiful. Grab it, bro.”
A smile threatens to take over my mouth. “You think so?”
Terrence claps me on the shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you’d meet someone again. Someone who rocked your world but respected your wishes. Who didn’t put himself in harm’s way every day. Now you have. And now we need to figure out how you’re going to deal with it.”
My throat tightens as a new swell of emotion rises in me, the feeling that comes from good friends having your back.
“Got anything in mind?” I ask as we resume our pace.
Both guys shake their heads at the same time. “Not a clue,” Terrence says.
“But I bet we can figure something out,” Cruz adds.
For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe I can too.
I feel hope.
Hope can trick you though.
Hope can make you believe that wishes and wants are more powerful than reality.
Reality sets back in later that day as I head to meet Ryan for lunch at a Chinese restaurant.
The hopeful feeling fades, and another feeling takes its place—a prickle of dread spreads over me when the Lyft driver pulls into the strip mall.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore this new emotion.
But as I thank the driver and get out of the car, I can’t shake this uncomfortable, nagging feeling, like a pebble in a shoe.
I put on my shades as I walk to the restaurant, trying like hell to be in the moment. The issue is that the moment requires me to be someone else. Helping Ryan—a young, impressionable US Marine looking for a solid gig now that he’s out of the military—means I need to be his mentor.
I need to be the guy he can look up to and hopefully admire. Definitely respect.
I can’t be the guy fucking his boss and be the guy giving Ryan job advice.
The two men don’t coexist. Honor and dishonor can’t share the same real estate.
Truth and secrets don’t fit in the same body.
That’s the crux of the issue. I can’t be the man I want to be if I keep sneaking around with Stone.
That is what we’re doing.
Sure, we want to be free to touch in public.
To walk into the hotel together. To kiss in the casino. To hold hands in the elevator.
If he were here with me right now, joining me for this lunch for whatever reason, I’d take his hand.
But he’s not.
And I can’t.
That has nothing to do with being gay and everything to do with telling lies.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, blow out a long stream of air, then walk into the restaurant.
Ryan’s at a booth already, and when he spots me, his blue eyes sparkle.
He rises, giving me a slow thumbs-up, and when I reach him, I clap him on the back. “You got the job?”
“I did,” he says, beaming. “Thanks to you.”
I wave it off. “It was all you, man.” We sit. “Tell me everything.”
He dives right into it, giving me the play-by-play of the interview. “And then at the end came the Whitney Houston question.”
My brow creases. “Come again?”
He laughs. “Sorry. That’s what my sister calls it. She loves that Kevin Costner-Whitney Houston flick, The Bodyguard , where he falls for her.”
My stomach twists. My skin prickles. “What was the question?”
He squares his shoulders. “What would you do if you had feelings for the person you were protecting?”
I swallow, but there’s a rock in my throat. “And?”
“I said the only thing you can say. Don’t act on them. ”
I try to draw a quick breath, but my lungs are so tight they can barely hold air. I grab the water glass in front of me and take a drink, practically gulping.
When I set the glass down, I do my best to offer an encouraging remark, but I can’t seem to speak. I don’t know what I can say that won’t reveal what I’ve done.
“That’s the right answer, isn’t it?” Ryan asks, his voice rising with uncertainty. “That’s the right thing to do? Just because you feel something doesn’t mean you should act on it.”
My stomach coils into a painful knot. This is what I needed to hear. Sure, I was hopeful this morning after talking to the guys about where this relationship with Stone could go.
But hope is a lie.
Hope won’t change the facts.
I can’t be the man I want to be if I’m with my boss.
This is the reminder I needed.
“That is definitely the only answer,” I say, then I grab the menu and stare at the sea of offerings, not really seeing any of them.
When lunch ends, the answer to my own problem is crystal clear.
How I’ll manage to act on it is . . . I won’t .