Page 50 of Beautifully Conflicted

“I can guess.” Damien’s shoulders deflate as he tucks himself away, and it’s such a sad, defeated sight I nearly reach out to put my hand on his arm. To comfort him, I think. Until he says, “I just wish you’d be as honest with yourself as you are with me.”

“The hell does that mean?” I put my hands on hips menacingly, not caring that I’m still buck naked and covered in his come. “I’ve been honest. Honest that I can’t do this.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Damien’s brown eyes seem sort of black, and I’m not sure if that’s because of the dim light in the room or the fact there’s no light behind them anymore.

“Does it matter?”

He laughs without any humor. “Guess not. I’ll see you at practice.”

Damien grabs his shit and heads downstairs, and since I’m straining to hear it, I know he’s let himself out when the front door closes with a thud.

That’s when I finally allow myself to exhale, and I make my way to the shower to clean up. It’s not until I’m standing under the stream of hot water that I wonder what he meant bycan’t or won’t.

It’s like he knows there’s something beyond my confusing thoughts holding me back. But how? I’ve never told him what that is. I’ve never told anyone. It’s too painful.

I can still see the crushed expression on my uncle’s face when my dad told him he wasn’t welcome at our house anymore. It’s virtually identical to the one Damien was wearing when I blew up at him for coming on my dick, whichwassexy as hell, but which also snapped me back into my body and made me realize what I was doing. And once that registered, all I could think of is how weak I am for giving in to temptation. The same temptation that drove my dad and his brother apart.

Which was my fault.

As the evidence of my afternoon washes down the drain, I recall that fateful evening, the first time I saw two men together.

Uncle Mark had offered to take me to a movie, and then we would have a sleepover at his house. It was something we’d been doing at least twice a year since I was five, both so my parents could have a night out and so I could hang with my favorite uncle, who was always up for doing something fun like video games, water balloon fights, and movie nights.

We’d been home from the movie for a few hours, and I was tucked in the guest bed I always slept in, but for some reason I wasn’t asleep. I don’t know if something woke me or if I hadn’t fallen asleep yet, I just remember getting up to look for my uncle, and I found him sitting on the couch kissing another man.

I was barely ten, but still old enough to know this wasn’t a friendly kiss. It was how they do in the movies my mom liked to watch. Theones where she got all teary-eyed at the end, but not because she was sad. In that moment, it was clear that my uncle was happy, and I was happy for him. He was older than my dad and didn’t have a family of his own, and since ten-year-old me had often wondered if he was lonely, I was glad to see him with someone.

I watched them for several minutes before tiptoeing back to my room, and when my uncle dropped me off the next day, I was so excited to tell my dad how Uncle Mark wasn’t going to be lonely anymore…

But I didn’t catch on when Uncle Mark clammed up about the friend he had over the night before, and when I tried to jog his memory by referring to his friend as the one with the scratchy face, I didn’t realize I was driving a wedge between brothers. One that would be in place to this day.

The fury on my father’s face was trumped only by the sadness on Uncle Mark’s. And as my father ranted about his disgust and displeasure at what I’d witnessed, it became clear that he believed his brother had done something unforgivable. I have no illusions he’d think the same thing if he ever found out about what I just did. And just like my mom didn’t come to Uncle Mark’s defense, she won’t come for mine either.

Damien’s cum is long gone by the time the memory has run its course, but my confusion remains.

Am I bi?

Am I something else, since Damien is the only man I have any attraction to?

Is giving in to temptation with him worth risking my family?

Normally, I’d never ask that question, but seeing as how I’ve given in twice now, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit he’s a weakness of mine. The question is, is my weakness for him greater than my desire to keep my family together?

No.

The answer has to be no.

Killer orgasms aren’t worth being disowned by the people who raised me. People who I love, and who I know love me. And yeah, maybe they’ve got some flaws, but who doesn’t? They aren’t evil, they just have strong beliefs, and aren’t we supposed to respect other people’s beliefs, whether we agree with them or not?

They’ve given me so much, been there for me while I chased my football dreams. Though they’ve never said it, I know there’s only one thing I could do to change their opinion of me; fall for a man.

Since I’m not interested in men, aside from this strange pull toward Damien, I considered that a non-issue. Yeah, I may have a little resentment that their beliefs kept me from my favorite uncle, but that’s one blip in a happy and—quite frankly—privileged childhood. So, I didn’t hold their beliefs against them, mainly because I never expected to challenge them. I still don’t.

Aside from the fact it’d shake the foundation of my family if I were with a man, there’s my career to consider. I fully intend to enter the draft next year, and while no one will say out loud that your sexual orientation could influence your prospects, I’ve yet to see an out man get picked up. My roommates are going to test that theory—Cruz and Jagger are talented enough it would put the league in an awkward spot if they don’t get drafted regardless of their orientation—but I’ll graduate before them, so any doors they might open will help younger guys, not me.

I’m slated to get my shot while acceptance is still more of a sound bite than a reality, and now that the one man who does pique my interest is here…

I can’t let my guard down around Damien, no matter how much I want to. No more giving in to his advances, no more asking himfor sexual favors—if I even did that—and no more thinking of him as anything but my on-field rival. Period.

---