9. Travis
"Que bom te ver novamente," I say after Rafael and I hug.
As always, he smiles and looks happy to see me, while graciously completely overlooking my butchering of the Portuguese language.
"It's great to see you, too, meu filho."
And as always, I smile like an idiot when he lavishes the affectionate 'my son' at me. I wish my dad were half the father Rafael is.
He cares for and loves and supports his son because that's what a parent does, not because he has his own twisted, fucked-up ulterior reasons. With my father, there's always something else at play, and what's best for me and in my best interests ain't it.
"Come in, come in," he says, waving me into Luca's room. "He's just taking a shower. Let's sit on the balcony."
"Awesome."
I follow half a step behind him. The sliding door is open letting the fresh salty breeze in. Two bottles of water are perched on the table, so it looks like he and Luca have been out here. I slide a spare chair over.
Rafael sits down, resting his feet on the balustrade. I slip my flip-flops off and do the same.
"Pretty cool surprise," I say with a smile.
"The tournament reached out to me a couple of months ago. Before you did."
"Ah. Okay."
I was a little hurt that Rafael had rejected my offer for me to fly him out here to be with Luca during his first ever finals rounds when we went back for his aunt's funeral, but it makes sense now. I'm sure tournament officials would have instructed him to keep everything under wraps so that it would be a genuine surprise.
And, boy, was it ever.
I'd never say this to Rafael because I don't want to interfere, but Luca's initial reaction at seeing his old man seemed…less than thrilled.
Their relationship has always baffled me.
It's clear as day they love each other. They're a small, close-knit unit of two. By all accounts, Rafael was a tremendous single dad. But there's something, some beef or issue Luca has with him that he won't tell me about and that I, for the life of me, can't understand.
If I were to guess, I'd say Luca has an issue with the way his dad lives. And sure, it's a simple life. The man works hard. Lives in a modest home. But what the fuck is wrong with that?
That's actually what I want.
And it's the reason why I've been hesitant to share my Big Dream with Luca.
Because if his dad's simple life causes issues between them, how is he going to react when he finds out that it’s pretty much the exact same thing I want?
"So, I hear congratulations are in order," Rafael says, aiming a warm smile my way.
"For…?"
"Luca told me you're back together. I wondered if you were when you came back for my sister's funeral, but he said it happened more recently."
"Yeah. It's recent," I say, even though it doesn't feel recent.
Luca's been in my heart from that night we met at my party in France, and he’s never left. Our yo-yoing relationship status never changes that.
"I'm happy for you. For you both. I'm rooting for you to make it."
"Thanks. I am, too."
I gaze out into the ocean.
Once, just once, I'd like to have this sort of conversation with my father. But no, he doesn't like Luca, and he makes no effort to act otherwise. I can't tell if it's the gay thing that bothers him or whether it's Luca being from Brazil—during a fight he once made some asshole comment about Luca living in a fucking favela. So, yeah, Dad's either homophobic, racist, classist, or some icky combination of all three.
Rafael steals a glance over his shoulder. Luca must still be in the bathroom because he leans toward me and asks, "How's he doing?"
That's code for: is Luca on drugs?
I never like having this conversation, but it's especially hard when I have bad news to report. "He used in Perth. Not in LA. Not here… Yet."
"Merda."
Yeah, it's shit all right.
Rafael's entire demeanor changes, and he goes from laid-back DILF to stressed-out parent in the blink of an eye.
Not that I blame him.
I know what it's like to see someone you love suffer with addiction and be powerless to do anything.
Rafael scrubs a hand down his face, working up a faint smile. "Thank you for telling me."
"Of course. We made a deal, remember?"
"I do." He gets a wistful look in his dark eyes. "I remember that first night I met you. When Luca escaped. I was sure you were in on it. Either doing it with him or supplying him or…just something."
"I know. For a normally chilled-out dude, you got intense. Understandably so," I quickly add.
"I was wrong. You're a good person. You've shown nothing but love and understanding and patience with Luca."
I offer a slight shrug. "It's what you do when you love someone."
"It is. And I want you to know how much it means to me that we can be honest with each other like this. That you tell me everything that's going on with my son. I know that puts you in a difficult position, but I would be going out of my mind if you weren't giving me this information. Even when it's not good news. At least I know." He huffs out a breath and looks me in the eye. "Not knowing is the worst."
"I bet."
And don't I feel like a complete asshole right now for breaking the assurance I gave him all those years ago.
Back then, I assumed Luca would eventually open up to me about this, which would enable the three of us to be able to discuss it openly, thereby not requiring me to become an informant.
That isn't the case.
If Rafael hadn't told me his son was addicted to pills, I'd probably still be in the dark about it because there's stealthy, and then there's Luca-level stealthy.
It's the one secret he's kept from me the entire time we've known each other.
I could be mad or hurt or upset about it. Take it as a sign that he can't be trusted, or worse, that he doesn't love me. But in all the reading I've done about addiction and the behaviors of addicts, I've learned that personalizing his actions isn't the most helpful approach to take. It makes it about me when it needs to be about him and his disease.
Because that's really what it is.
If Luca had a cold, I wouldn't expect him to talk and sound and have the same energy levels he usually had. I wouldn't be mad at him every time he sneezed or coughed. I'd recognize those symptoms for what they were, part of his illness.
It's the same with this. Just because he's sick in a way that doesn't have obvious physical manifestations, that doesn't make the disease any less real.
I have to wait for him to come to me when he's ready to share this part of himself.
And I have waited.
I will continue doing that.
But while I've been waiting, I couldn't just sit idly by and do nothing.
Which circles me back to the promise I made to Rafael that night—to be honest with him.
Peering inside the room, there's still no sign of Luca.
I glance over the edge of the balcony. We're on the fifth floor.
What are my odds of surviving should Rafael toss me over the edge when he finds out what I've been doing?
I clear my throat and mentally brace myself for the fallout. "Rafael? There's, um… There's something I need to tell you."
"That was a really good night. I had fun." Luca turns the tap off, pulls down his boardies, steps out of them, and gets into the bath. "Did you?"
"I did." My eyes rake over every glorious inch of smooth skin and, of course, that massive black floppy cock of his. "Although I feel like my night's about to get a whole lot better."
I kick off my boardies and join him, gritting out an "Owieee" at how hot the water is.
Luca looks up. "Too hot?"
He always runs the water too hot. "Yeah. A bit."
"I haven't filled it all the way up." He turns the cold water on. "Here. Give it a minute."
"Thank you. My balls have already shriveled up into my body."
Luca is sitting in the tub while I'm standing in it, which means his face is at prime ball-inspecting level.
"They look fine to me." He cups them in his palms. "Feel fine, too."
"They're putting on a brave face. My boys always want to make Daddy proud."
Luca laughs, and as I stand there, waiting for the water to cool down as his laugh echoes off the tiled walls, I let out a silent thanks to the universe for letting me be alive to experience this moment.
Rafael's reaction when I confessed to what I've been doing wasn't what I was expecting, and since I'm standing here, alive and breathing, it obviously didn't include murder, either.
We've had quite enough of that in this family, thank you very much.
Instead, he bit his knuckle, let out a sob, then got up and hugged me so hard I could feel his heart beating. With his voice raw with emotion, he said, "Thank you," in Portuguese and kissed me on the forehead a couple of times.
"Okay. How's that?" Luca swirls his hand around, mixing the cold water through to cool it down.
"That's…better." I slowly ease myself into the warm, but no longer scalding, water. "Ahhh. I like this. The candles are a nice touch."
He shrugs, playing it off like it's no big deal, but he's totally a closet romantic.
"So, what did you and Dad talk about while I was showering?"
"Not much, really. This and that."
I hate lying to Luca, but what other option have I got? It's literally his life we're talking about saving.
"I love that you guys get along so well."
"I do, too. I wish my dad was way less of a fuckhead than he is."
"I don't take it personally," Luca says softly, since he's obviously picked up on my dad's vibes toward him. "Besides, I like your brothers."
"Really? 'Cause they can't stand you."
Luca splashes me.
I splash him back, and we both settle down. "I'll organize a triple date sometime," I say, because Troy and Terry genuinely do like Luca. "Maybe after the season?"
"Sounds good. Speaking of the season nearing its end…"
"Yeah?"
"There's something we need to address."
"I thought we'd already dealt with the fact I'm extremely well hung. It's a burden I've accepted I have to bear."
He splashes me again. "Be serious."
I grin. "Never."
He shakes his head then rests his elbows on the side of the tub. His long, slender fingers skim across the top of the water. With a sigh, he asks, "What are we going to do if we both end up in the grand final?"
"What choice do we have? We deal with it."
He looks at me. "I really want to win."
"I do, too."
"So…what happens out on the water won't affect us?"
"It shouldn't. It never has. We've competed against each other in rounds before."
"But never in the grand final. That's different. I know how much you want to win a title."
"I know how much you want to win."
He flicks some water off his fingertips. "It doesn't feel like we're resolving anything."
"Actually, we are." I lean forward. "This is one of the things I do best. Compartmentalize. I've had to compete against my brothers, and I've lost the title to my brothers. The entire world has seen me naked and fucking, and yet I still manage to keep some things private and just for me."
He gives a knowing, gentle smile.
"It's not easy. In fact, sometimes it's really fucking hard. But we'll figure it out. What happens on the water, stays out there, just like what happens in here, between you and me, stays between you and me."
"Okay. That sounds reasonable."
"That's not a word I'm used to hearing, so I assume it's a good thing?"
A grin spreads across his face. "You know, it used to bother me that you weren't exactly, how do I say it, normal. But now, now I feel sorry for anyone who is with someone normal."
"How fucking boring."
"Exactly." He plays with the water some more, his grin not going anywhere. "Look at us, being all mature and talking."
"It's as if we're adults, or something."
He laughs.
I reach my hand under the water and grab his cock. "I love you."
His dick pulses under my tight grip. "I love you, too."
"I'm ready."
The words spill out of me, seemingly out of nowhere, but maybe not that out of nowhere. Something about this time with Luca is different. I feel it.
And it's time.
He frowns. "Ready for what?"
"To tell you about…"
His eyebrows shoot up. "The Big Dream?"
I let go of him. "Yeah. If you want to hear it?"
"Of course I do. I've been waiting years for this."
I 'fessed up to his old man earlier, so maybe it's time I face my fears and tell Luca what my future plans are because now, more than ever, I want him to be in them.
He tucks his knees into his body, his intense gaze pinned on me.
"There's this block of land on a hill at the southern tip of Airlie Beach. Belongs to Old Man Campbell, the grandfather of a kid who was in the same class as me at school."
"Old Man is his first and middle name?" Luca asks with a smirk.
I nod and play along. "Correct. Anyway, one day, Troy, Terry, and I rode our bikes to the property. I knew the old fella was out of town, so we just walked around and explored. It's fifty acres facing northeast. You can see the whole town, the entire strip of coastline, and…I fell in love with it. I felt more at home there than I did in the house I was raised in."
"Sounds like a special place."
"Maaate, you have no idea. I've never been materialistic. Dad's always been about chasing money, but not me. I don't really care about shit like that, but at that moment, as a dumb fifteen-year-old, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to buy that land. So before I went out on my junior year, I paid Old Man Campbell a visit. He's a good bloke. Old school. A man of his word. He told me he'd sell it to me. For a hefty, but fair, price."
"What about his family?"
"His wife has passed, and he isn't close to either of his two kids. He planned on leaving everything to his grandkids, but none of them had expressed an interest in the place."
"Right."
"So, yeah, that's the Big Dream. Buy the land. It's big enough that Terry and Troy can build their own houses on it. We'll be close but not in each other's faces. It's something no one can ever take away from us. It'll be ours. We'll always have it."
"So…it's not just your Big Dream, then?"
"No." I smile. "It was my idea, but they're all in on it, too. That's why we're all saving like mad. That's why we agreed to do the stupid show in the first place, as well as all the endorsement deals we do. That's why I pushed so hard for more money next season."
"And, so, you buy the land. You retire from kitesurfing. Then what?"
"I'd like to get into oyster farming."
He nods with his whole upper body. "I remember you saying that the first time you met my father. But you don't talk about it a lot."
"I'm more of a doer than a talker. I've looked into how to get a license, so when the time comes, that's what I'll do."
"You want to be an oyster farmer?"
"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I want. A simple life. Some land. A job. And someone to share it with."
Our eyes meet.
Luca visibly swallows. "That sounds great. I'm really happy for you." The words fly out of his mouth so fast he doesn't have time to at least make it sound like he means them. "I need some air."
He rushes to his feet, creating a mini wave pool in the tub, grabs a towel, scoops his boardies up from the floor, and rushes out of the bathroom.
"What the fuck was that about?" I mutter to myself.
I sit in the bathtub until the water settles.
It's the second time tonight a Silva man hasn't reacted the way I thought he would to something I'd said. I thought Luca and I would at least talk about it.
A pulse of anger beats in my chest.
Gritting my teeth, I pull myself out of the tub. I have no idea what his problem is, but I'm not prepared to let it slide.
We said we're going to communicate this time, so damn it, that's exactly what we're going to do.