Chapter 18 #2
Leo looks up from the book. “Colin and Dexter? I’m obsessed.”
“The whitest names ever,” Gabe says. “Keep going, and in a British accent, please.”
“Fine,” Leo says, and sits upright before resuming his narration.
“Dexter, now a successful landscape architect, has always carried a torch for Colin, but never had the courage to reveal his true feelings. Returning to Meadowbrook to care for his ailing grandmother, Dexter wants to finally seize the opportunity he missed years ago. As the two reconnect, their friendship blossoms into something more. But their budding romance faces opposition from Colin’s overbearing mother and the judgmental townsfolk.
Colin and Dexter must find the strength to let their love bloom, even if it means weathering the storm of small-town prejudice. ”
“The sex scene on page 152? You’re not ready,” Gabe says.
“Um, yes the hell I am,” Leo says, handing Gabe the book. “Please, please, please read it. But not in a British accent. Yours is horrifying.”
“Asks me to read him smut and then insults my accent work.” Gabe shakes his head. “Wow.”
“Oh, just read,” Leo says, smiling.
Gabe stands on the bed and clears his throat, holding the novel out like he’s about to perform Shakespeare.
“The sun was setting over the sprawling garden, their hands covered in soil and sweat glistening on their skin. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers. Colin wiped his brow, casting a glance toward Dexter, who was kneeling nearby, his muscles flexing as he tended to a bed of roses. A rush of heat flooded Colin’s cheeks as he felt Dexter’s eyes roam over him, igniting a fire deep within.
Wordlessly, Dexter rose to his feet and closed the distance between them, his movements smooth and confident.
Dexter pulled Colin into a deep, passionate kiss, and Colin, like the roses below, was ready to bloom for him. ”
“Did Troye Sivan write this?” Leo interrupts.
“Anyway,” Gabe says, and returns to narrating. “Moaning wildly, Colin’s hands dug into the earth, grabbing fistfuls of dirt as Dexter’s wood dug into—”
“Oh my God,” Leo says.
“AS DEXTER’S WOOD,” Gabe continues loudly, impatient with Leo’s interruptions, “dug into Colin’s own secret garden.”
“I changed my mind,” Leo says, laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t do this. I’m such a child, but I can’t do this.” He pulls Gabe down onto the bed. “But I love that you love this. And … let me just say … I wouldn’t hate if you, well, dug your wood into my secret gar—”
Gabe wrestles Leo on top of him, laughing. “I do hate you.”
Leo grins stupidly. “For real, though.”
“You really want to bloom for me the night before your quarterfinal?” Gabe asks.
“I mean, I need to be able to walk tomorrow,” Leo says, running a hand through his hair. “But yeah, I think I can manage, even without grabbing … what was it … fistfuls of dirt?”
Another fit of laughter takes over him as Gabe yanks him down for a kiss.
A few minutes after Gabe has finished planting his seed in Leo’s secret garden, their afterglow is interrupted by a rapping on the door.
“Mierda,” Gabe says, jumping. “Uh, just put your clothes on and hide in—”
“Gaaaaabe,” the woman at the door whines.
“Oh, it’s Esme,” Gabe says. “Still, put your clothes on.”
“Obviously,” Leo says, tugging his jeans on. “Should I put the sunglasses back on, or?”
“You’re so funny,” Gabe teases.
Another rapping on the door.
“Okay, okay,” Gabe says as he pulls on a gray T-shirt. He checks that Leo is fully clothed and then opens the door, though not all the way. “Es, hey, what’s up? It’s … eleven o’clock.”
Esme’s thin frame slinks past Gabe into the room. “I know, I know, but you know I don’t sleep and I was looking over you summer schedule and I wanted to go over few things before I fly out tomorrow mor—”
As she’s tucking her hair behind her ears, she clocks Leo standing uncomfortably by the bathroom. “Hi again, Esme,” he says bashfully. “We met back at Indian Wells. I’m—”
“You’re fucking,” she says, turning back to Gabe. “I knew it.”
“What makes you say that?” Leo asks innocently.
“My love, your shirt is on both backward and inside out,” she says to him.
Gabe palms his own face.
“Listen, I’m happy for you both, don’t get me wrong,” she says, standing there, a hand on her hip, wearing a lavender sweatsuit.
“I love a sporty power couple. I can’t think of any off the top of my head, but I love them.
I just want you to be careful, okay? Dating another guy on tour, if that is what’s going on here, would be big, big news.
Not to mention Leo being queer, too. Mazel, by the way,” she says, nodding to Leo before speaking to Gabe again.
“This season has been rocky enough with sponsors and hate mail and—”
“I know, I know,” Gabe says, frustrated.
Esme sighs, looking at Gabe like a little brother. “I love you, kid. You know that. I just think it would be wise to keep this on the DL. For your own sanity. For Leo’s, too.”
Gabe smiles halfheartedly. “Yeah.”
“Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf! There’s one,” she says with a snap of her fingers. “They’re still together, right? Okay, well, I’ll let you two do your thing, and I’ll send you my thoughts on your schedule in an email instead,” she says, walking to the door. “Night, boys.”
And with that, the tornado that is Esme sweeps out of the room. The door clicks shut.
“I’m sorry about that,” Gabe says, shaking his head. “Esme is, uh, hashtag no filter.”
They’re both frozen where they’re standing.
“It’s okay,” Leo says quietly, crossing his arms, shoulders hunched.
“I mean, she’s right. There would be a ton of press, even if I were out already.
I still just don’t know if I can’t handle that right now, coming out, going public.
I—I guess we should be more careful, until we have this figured out.
And I’m the one who should be sorry. You shouldn’t have to hide again, because of me.
That’s not fair. You should be off finding somebody who already has their shit together. ”
“I like your shit,” Gabe says, and then winces. “Sorry. You know what I mean. I told you, Leo, I want to be with you, even if it’s in secret.”
Leo studies his face. He wants to believe him, and mostly he does, but he can’t shake the sinking feeling that he’s keeping Gabe from something better, from a truly open life. But he doesn’t want to push the subject, especially when Gabe seems like he might be getting tired of Leo’s apologies.
“Okay,” Leo says. “I do think you coming to my matches isn’t the best idea.
Esme might be right. But would you stick around a few more days?
In London, I mean? We have our house through the weekend.
We stay the whole two weeks every year, even if I don’t make it far in the tournament.
My parents have a little birthday thing for me in the backyard before we head back to Florida for the summer.
You can ask Esme, but I don’t think that would exactly be high-risk, do you?
If you’re free. And if you want. I missed your birthday, so it’s not like you—”
“I wouldn’t miss it, Leonardo. Text me the details and I’ll be there. But for now,” Gabe says, his face turning stern, “go take down Sascha.”
Leo doesn’t speak Russian. But as he’s preparing for his quarterfinal match inside the Gentlemen Members’ Dressing Room, tying and retying his sneakers, he can tell that Sascha and his team are talking about him, their sneering and snickering aimed in his direction.
It could just be Esme’s frantic speech from the night before causing him to project, but he’s paranoid that somehow Sascha knows.
About him. About him and Gabe. The thought of a secret like that in the hands of a man like this?
It sends a shiver down Leo’s spine. As the Russian team leaves the room, he hears Sascha mutter something under his breath.
Leo tries to remember what he heard, thinking he could try his best to type it into Google Translate, but then Brian appears.
“Hey, LC, how are you feeling?” Brian asks, giving him a pat on the arm.
“I wanted to tell you this now before you get out there and see for yourself, but your dad won’t be in the box today.
We were heading over here and he was having too much trouble in the heat.
Sheryl and I had to do some convincing, but we got him to stay behind.
She staying with him and watching from the house.
I’m sorry, LC. I know it’s not ideal when you were expecting him.
But I’ll be out there, the rest of the team will be out there.
We played a lot of this season just you and me. We got this. You got this.”
“He’s okay, right? Did he fall? What happened?” Leo asks, rising from the bench.
“No, no, nothing like that. He was just having a hard time walking, even with his cane. The goddamn weather here is so humid. We didn’t think he could do the stadium stairs. He didn’t seem to think he could, either.”
“Fuck. Okay. Well. Um.” Leo’s eyes search the locker room for an answer. To what, he isn’t sure.
“I’ll be in your box whenever you need me. Same game plan,” Brian says, maintaining clear, steady eye contact. Leo is aware of it, even as his own eyes are scanning the room anxiously. “Play without fear.”