Page 10 of Overtime Goal
“Want to see the picture I took as evidence? It’s on my phone.”
He wouldn’t have taken a picture, would he?“Fuck you.”
The chirping continued as the movie wound down. It made us laugh, easing away the awkwardness of the last couple of days. When the movie ended, we turned off the TV and took the leftover snacks back to the kitchen.
We were at the counter drinking water when Riley’s eyes changed. Now they had a flat, weary look. Tiredness was probably part of it, but I suspected he was worried about having more of the nightmares that had bothered him for months. I met his gaze. “You staying?”
He hesitated before answering. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to.”
“The guest room’s always available to you.”
He glanced away, as if he didn’t want me seeing his relief. “Thanks, Logan.”
We paused in the hall outside the bedrooms, mine to the right and the guest room directly opposite. “Let me know if you need anything,” I said. “Hope you sleep well.”
“You too.”
He licked his lips, and the flash of pink tongue kicked my pulse up a notch. I took a deep breath. “Glad you came over.”
“I had a great time.”
I nodded. “Same. Good night.”
Our eyes locked, and neither of us moved until a clock chimed in the front of the house. I turned and went into my room, closing the door behind me. After washing up, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It had been one of the best evenings I’d had in a long time. I needed to stop pretending I didn’t want more than this, but what good would it do? I was gay, and Riley was straight. He might freak out again if I told him how I felt, and then I’d be more alone than ever. My stomach clenched as I reminded myself we would never want the same things.
5/
riley
A crackin the blinds always let in enough sunlight to wake me at dawn, whether I was here to hide from nightmares, hangovers, or disappointed women. You’d think somebody who earned as much as Logan did could afford to have his blinds fixed. But without a reason to sleep in the guest room, he probably didn’t know there was a problem. I’d tell him at breakfast.
I rolled onto my side and thought about the evening we’d spent together. It had been exactly what I needed. I could never relax at home the way I did at Logan’s, and I was glad he didn’t seem mad at me despite the awkwardness I’d caused in Dallas.
“Do you ever think about that night in LA?” I’d asked, as if it would be that easy to get him to open up.
Why the fuck did I want to talk about it anyway? I knew I’d hurt him, but I’d hoped we could get past it. If we cleared the air, maybe I could go back to normal life: drinking too much and screwing women. Logan and I could go back to being best friends, and I could stop thinking about him every minute of the day. Unfortunately, this hadn’t been as easy as it should have been.
We seemed to be on the right path, at least. Last night had proved we were still best friends, hadn’t it? We’d slipped into our familiar routine with no problem. He certainly wouldn’t have let Holky or Gabe put their feet in his lap, and I for goddamn sure wouldn’t have put my feet in theirs. Even that crazy movie had been fun. Logan wasn’t usually into sci-fi, but I knew he’d watched it for us, to help us find our way back. Hearing him laugh had meant everything.
Since we were doing better, maybe I should leave what happened in California alone so we could move on. Talking about it wouldn’t change what happened, and it wasn’t like a heart-to-heart would turn us into boyfriends. I was straight, and Logan was gay. Nature had made us like that, and he’d probably been as surprised as I was by what happened in LA. If only I hadn’t panicked and said those hurtful things, we’d probably be over it already.
If he was willing to let it go, why shouldn’t I? Not everything has to be talked about and analyzed to death, and if I forced this, it might end us as friends.
The solution was obvious. Find a woman and get back in the saddle. Soon. I turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. Memories of LA pulled me in.
It had been a wonderful day. We went for a run early in the morning, and since neither of us was in the mood for golf with the boys, we snuck away and went to Universal Studios. The tour took us down memory lane from an insider’s perspective. Afterward, we oohed and aahed our way through the shows, fan-boyed in Super Nintendo World, and laughed and screamed while enjoying some of the rides. Jurassic World–The Ride would never be the same.
It was getting dark by the time we left, and Logan suggested Santa Monica for dinner and a beach walk. After stuffing ourselves with seafood and pasta, we grabbed the hoodies we’dtossed in the car and headed for the sand. Moonlight cast a soft glow across the calm water. There weren’t many people on the beach, and it almost seemed like we’d called ahead to reserve it for ourselves.
We didn’t say much while we walked, but the silence wasn’t awkward at all. I snuck glances at Logan, wondering if he could hear the noise in my mind. My stomach had fluttered throughout dinner as thoughts I’d tried to push away overwhelmed me. I was still thinking about them.
Before long, we hit a stretch of beach where we were completely alone. The lights of the pier were behind us, and the world seemed reduced to us and the susurrus of the water. Without saying anything, Logan reached for my hand. I didn’t pull away because his touch felt good.
The moment was charged with emotion. Something had changed, and I thought, “This is great. Our friendship just leveled up.”
But I knew it was more than that. We stopped, and our hands slipped apart as we turned toward each other. As soon as our eyes met, my heart went crazy. A kiss hung between us, and my world tilted when Logan licked his lips. Smiling, I leaned in enough to extend an invitation. I wanted it, but since I’d never kissed a guy before, I needed Logan to meet me halfway. He had to show me it was okay to cross the line we’d been flirting with for too long.
He leaned toward me, but right before our lips met, he stopped. His voice was low and shaky. “I want… Riles, do you?—”
