9. Xander
NINE
Xander
When I awoke four days after the ill-fated catamaran outing, I realized I had only eighteen hours left until I was thirty.
Rolling over in my bed to watch the sun flickering through dancing palm fronds it struck me that I’d done little in my life.
Perhaps struck wasn’t the correct word. Struck would indicate that I’d been caught unaware.
I’d not been. It had been niggling at me for some time that my life was nothing but hockey.
Part of that was because I loved the game, and it demanded dedication which I freely gave.
The other part of that sad scenario was due to the fact that I’d been living a life of self-imprisonment.
I sat up, dropped my feet to the floor, and rested my elbows to my knees as my gaze lingered on the tropical paradise on the other side of the window.
It was quite the metaphor for my life up until now, wasn’t it?
I wanted more out of life than just hockey that much I knew.
And now I could have it. I was out. There was no reason to hide behind the glass, brow to the pane, and let the world move on without me.
I stood then padded to the sliding door.
Hands resting on top of my head my gaze touched on the white sands and the soft waves rolling in.
All I had to do was open the door and step out into the breeze and embrace what life was offering.
Would that include Mason? Should it include Mason?
It was obvious that we were insanely attracted to each other.
He’d made it clear he had feelings for me.
God knows I yearned for him. But were yearnings and feelings enough to jeopardize a lifelong friendship?
That was the hang-up. Well, one of many.
Seemed I was a man of many hang-ups. I unlocked the door and threw it open.
The cries of gulls and the earthy rhythm of the waves blew over my face.
I breathed it all in, over and over, deep yogic breaths that expanded my chest. The sun was pink and new. Pink. God those swim trunks of Mason’s…
Shaking a bit from the rush of want that washed over me, I took a few steps, mindful of the fact that I was in my underwear and others might see me, and simply was.
There had been little time to spend reflecting.
Mason had done one hell of a job setting up this trip.
Every day we’d done something fun. Snorkeling, deep-sea fishing, parasailing, visiting natural pools where flamingoes dallied in the tidal waters, sunset sailing trips, horseback rides through Arikok National Park.
Today was a trip to a butterfly farm. Mason hadn’t missed a thing, and we still had a week to go.
Tomorrow would be a day spent drinking with the boys.
As much as I loved my friends, I was growing weary of being on the go.
Maybe I could sneak away tomorrow and just soak up the knowledge that I was now thirty years old with no plan for life other than playing a game that paid me embarrassingly well.
Did I want to marry? Yes, God yes. Have kids?
Yes, at least two. Buy a house for the kids as well as a dog and a cat?
Totally. Did I have the balls to go after all of that?
Maybe? It was odd being out. Good odd, obviously, even though the way I’d been shoved into outing myself had been shitty.
Still, now that the brouhaha had died down a bit I would be able to be me.
Xander. A single man looking for love without limits.
Mason appeared in my mind’s eye as he always did when I let my guard down.
Pursuing him would be a massive case of looking for love in all the incredibly wrong places. Johnny Lee knew from whence he sang.
I gave the dawn light a bow of thanks and went to the gym for a run on the treadmill.
The early hour meant I was the only person there which suited me fine.
I was feeling introspective today. Probably because my twenties were going to be nothing but memories soon.
I hit the run hard, pounding away at top speed with some raging metal throbbing through my earbuds.
Afterward, I thought about hitting the steam room but opted to skip it.
I showered back in my room, dressed for comfort, slipped into the hotel dining room for a buffet breakfast, and was just sitting down to my overflowing platter of eggs and bacon when a tingle raced up my spine.
I glanced at the doors and there was Mason.
I wasn’t sure what it said about me that I sensed the man now before I even saw him. Something lame and pitiful I was sure.
He spied me and gave me a wobbly smile. He’d been subdued the past few days. No more skintight trunks—more was the pity—and less flirtation. His clothing was still trendy and colorful, but he wasn’t working his sex appeal as he had before. It was a relief… mostly.
“Morning,” he said then eyed the buffet. “I need caffeine.” He placed a 35 millimeter camera on the table beside the salt and pepper shaker. That was new.
“Go for it.” I watched him move around the steamtable, taking a little of this and a bit of that.
He’d never been a big eater, not like Eli and me.
Which was probably how he stayed so lithe.
When he returned to the table, I saw he had mostly fruit, a cup of yogurt, and a bagel slathered with cream cheese.
And here I was inhaling cheesy eggs and smoky pig meat.
“Have you seen any of the others?” he asked after he took his seat then laid a cloth napkin over his white shorts. I shook my head. He frowned while stirring some Splenda into his coffee. “I bet they won’t show. I wasn’t sure if you jocks would be into a butterfly farm.”
“I’m into it,” I said then bit into a crispy slice of bacon. I’d worry about cholesterol later. When I was thirty. Today I was still twenty-nine and living high on the hog.
Great. Pork puns. Such a funny dad joke. Next you’ll be wearing socks with your sandals.
Mason’s smile was infectious. I grinned back. And there we sat smiling at each other over eggs and mango wedges.
“It’ll be just us two then,” he finally said, breaking the spell that had held us. I nodded and ate. Conversation was sparse.
Our driver, whom I was happy to see was Esmar, led us to a Jeep with the Sheltered Sands logo on the doors.
We waited for another ten minutes before Mason told him to go after sending texts to the Rebels still in bed.
Not that they’d worry about us or anything.
We were grown men after all. Two grown men.
Not a man and a little boy. Men. God above why had it taken me this long to fucking absorb that fact?
As Esmar chattered on cheerfully I took a long look at Mason from the back.
He was a man all right. Lean as a whipcord but utterly masculine.
Gone was the gangly youth who followed me and Eli every damn place we went.
He’d grown into a beautiful man with a sharp mind and a love of helping others find their dreams.
Maybe he can help you find your dreams too, Xander.
“Here we are, gents!” Esmar announced as we slowed to a stop. My gaze lingered on Mason for a second then moved to Esmar. He turned to smile at me. “I’ll be back at noon if that’s still good for the pick-up?”
“Yep, that’s perfect,” Mason said as he climbed off the Jeep.
“Perfect,” I mumbled while futzing with my seatbelt.
“It sticks. Push and pull. There you go!” Esmar said then grinned.
I somehow got out of the back without falling on my face and waved at the Jeep as it pulled off.
Then I peeked to the side to see Mason slipping on a pair of sunglasses with bright orange frames.
They matched the tangerine tank top he wore.
The man was always so colorful. I liked that about him.
I liked a great deal about him if I were being honest.
“We ready?” He looked up at me. People milled around us, adults and children and old people. I longed to kiss him just because he looked so perfectly Mason. And he made me happy, giddy, crazy.
Crazy enough to dream with?
“Yeah, ready,” I replied. He bounced off.
I trundled along behind him marveling at how he was easily the most beautiful sight on this island.
Over the next few hours, he had some heavy competition with the stunning beauty surrounding us.
We walked through a lush tropical forest with flowers of every shape, color, and scent all around us.
And the butterflies. Holy hell, I had never seen so many of them.
Various shades of blue, yellow, orange, black, and red.
Most I had no clue about, but I did see several monarchs.
They flitted about inside the huge enclosure.
A big blue one landed on Mason’s head. I used my phone to snap a picture.
Then a swallowtail, or what I think was a swallowtail, took a rest on my shoulder.
Mason circled me, snapping away, gabbling nonstop as he took image after image.
We lingered for a good hour inside the enclosure watching the delicate beauties fly from flower to flower.
Mason stood so close that his arm was in constant contact with mine.
I didn’t mind. Once, when a blueish moth landed nearby, I pulled him close to snap a selfie of us and the moth on the netting.
He gave me a startled look but settled nicely into my side.
I held him there for a long time after I’d snapped the picture.
He leaned into me after a bit, his head resting on my chest, his camera up at his face.
Contentment flooded me. So, we stood there by the blue moth for a long time, my arm around his shoulder.
“We should go. Our ride will be here soon,” he said then looked up to see if I’d heard him.
I had. And I was planning to say something but my whole being was wrapped up in his face, lost in his eyes, hungry for his lips.
“I want to kiss you,” I whispered.
“Go ahead,” he softly replied.