Page 19 of Bad to the Bone
But was the alternative any better? He’d spent years wondering what might have been after one interrupted kiss. If he didn’t take the chance now, would he spend the rest of his life regretting that he didn’t have the courage to act on his desire?
I’d rather look back and be sorry for something I did than for something I didn’t do.The possibilities of what he might do with Ricky Lee made his cock jump, but he’d far prefer to experience them together than alone. His decision made, Alex finished washing quickly. He’d take as much as he could get of Ricky Lee for as long as he could have him.
THEYclosed the store promptly at six. Alex swapped his polo shirt with the Morrison Hardware logo for a teal-colored henley before driving the short distance to Ricky Lee’s hotel.
Ricky Lee was waiting in the lobby. He’d traded his T-shirt for a long-sleeved black button-down with the cuffs turned back. Released from the tail he usually pulled it back in, his long black hair brushed his shoulder blades.
Alex thought he looked good enough to eat.
“Busy afternoon at the store?” Ricky Lee asked as they walked outside and started toward the restaurant.
“Saturdays usually are. Which is a good thing—it helps the time pass quickly.”
That brought a smile to Ricky Lee’s face. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one wishing tonight would get here faster.”
A delicious aroma wafted out of the tiny restaurant when they opened the door. The dining room had fewer than a dozen tables, and they were nearly all full. The owner greeted Alex warmly and sat them in a roomy corner booth.
Though the menu was basic—tacos, quesadillas, enchiladas, and burritos—it offered more than a dozen choices of meat and a variety of sauces. “The carne asada and carnitas are my favorites,” Alex suggested when Ricky Lee asked for recommendations.
“Sounds good to me. We can each order one kind and share.”
“Would you like a beer?” Alex asked when Señor Iñiguez came to take their order.
“I don’t drink.” Ricky Lee’s expression hardened for a moment. “I saw my old man drunk on his ass too many times for it to hold any appeal.” When Alex hesitated, he was quick to add, “Go ahead and order one for yourself. Trust me, there’s no chance I’m going to mistake you for him.”
“Negra Modelo, then,” Alex said.
“Agua fría, por favor.”
“Muy bien.” Señor Iñiguez hurried to hand off their order to his wife in the kitchen.
“So, here we are, with a lot of catching up to do.” Ricky Lee sat back once their drinks had been delivered. “I followed you while you were playing for OU. I’m sorry your football career was cut short.”
“It was my choice,” Alex admitted after taking a swallow of his beer. “I got a concussion senior year at Freeland, after you… left.” Intentionally missing an offensive tackle during the first game of the season had been Odell’s way of making Alex pay for the chewing-out from Coach Tyler that was his only consequence of the fight with Ricky Lee. “I was able to shake it off at the time, but I got hit again in my freshman year at OU. By the third concussion, sophomore year, I was done. My playing in the NFL was my dad’s dream, but I never had the desire to make it at any cost that it would take to succeed in the pros. More information was coming out about the effects of multiple head injuries, and it was… not a risk I was willing to take.”
“With good reason.” Their tacos arrived, and they spent a few minutes digging in to the food in silence. “What happened after that?” Ricky Lee asked when their initial hunger had been sated.
“I lost the full-ride football scholarship, of course. I was able to qualify for a smaller amount of academic financial aid and got a job working with the campus food service to cover the rest. I will always appreciate restaurant workers after spending three years in the OU cafeteria system.” He smiled ruefully at the memory. “It cost too much to stay in the dorms, but luckily one of my classmates was looking for a roommate to share an apartment. I wound up marrying her after we graduated.”
“What’s your degree in?”
“Environmental studies. Not the most useful major for running a hardware store, but when my dad had his heart attack, Alanna was just starting college herself. Katie—my ex-wife—had a job offer with a national lobbying group in DC, so we split up when I moved back home.”
“Will it sound hypocritical if I say I’m sorry?” Ricky Lee asked.
“It was an amicable divorce. We’re still friends. Anyway, I helped run the store until Alanna graduated, but then Mom passed away, and since I couldn’t leave Alanna to deal with it alone, here I am.” Alex shrugged. “So that’s the story of my life since senior year. Not exactly the fame and fortune everyone expected, but there it is.” He finished his beer and asked the question he’d wanted to know the answer to for the past eleven years. “What about you? What happened after you left Freeland?”
