Page 11 of Caught Looking
“You know I love you no matter what, right, mijo? Whatever makes you happy, I will learn to be happy with.”
Was I that obvious? I turned my head to the side as my heart did its best to skitter out of my chest. I’d been wondering what this moment would feel like almost incessantly for the last few days; if I’d be able to handle it, if the possibility of my father looking at me differently was enough to make me want to hide what I felt for Yariel. I was relieved to find out that even though the panic was there, that I was worried, I still wanted to say it. That I would be ready once Yariel was.
I stepped up to him and patted him on the cheek, but he grabbed in a strong hug. I could barely get the words out once I’d caught my breath. “I know, Papi. Thank you.”
I walked away with the February midday sun of the DR beating down on my shoulders, but the warmth in my belly was there for a completely different reason. Could I do what Yari did: risk his dreams to be open about who he was? Looking at him, I felt like I could. Like anything would be worth being able to go to him right now and kiss his mouth—tell him how proud of him I was.
Our eyes locked as I reached him, and for a second I saw in them the same yearning roiling in me. I could sense he was debating whether to reach for me or not, but at the last second he looked in the direction of my dad and it was back to business as usual. That stung, but I didn’t want to ruin this day for him or for myself.
“Where do you need me?” I asked with a jumble of emotions still swirling in my chest, and he gestured toward the pitcher mound. I smiled at his suggestion that I get back in my old position. “Like the old days?”
“Like always.” This time he was the one who smiled, and something about it made me hopeful that we could work this out after all.
Yariel
Today had been a lot, in both good and frustrating ways. Still, we’d managed to make the most of it. Seeing the kids in action at the camp had been great and I especially loved being able to see them playing and having fun, not just grinding in their practice. For so many Dominican boys baseball is not just something to do—it’s a ticket out of poverty. A contract with major league baseball could mean a way to support their family, and as much as that can be a blessing, it’s also very hard to enjoy something when the stakes are so high. It had been good to see the fruits of my own success give them a space to be kids too. And if I was being fully honest, it had been doubly special to have done it with Hatuey.
I sighed, remembering the few weird moments around his dad. It felt like everyone had their eyes on us, even if I knew they didn’t. I hated that now I had to think about every little touch between us, when before it had been the most natural thing in the world to pull him in for a hug, to kiss the top of his head.
The image of Hatuey’s father looking at us as we played in the field with the kids, the sadness in his eyes…that would keep me from slipping. I had to remember this wasn’t just about what I wanted. It was about not letting down the people who had been good to me. And I knew Hatuey had been thinking things over too. He’d been quiet on the drive back to the villa, and once we got in he went up for a nap before getting ready for the dinner we were supposed to attend.
So there had been no talking about what happened this morning, and no more almost fucking encounters. Everything had been sedate, friendly and back to the normal I’d told him I wanted so many times. I fucking hated it.
Now I was standing in the big room overlooking the beach and waiting for him to come out. It was a black-tie affair, so I was done up in a full tuxedo, grateful for central AC and sipping some rum from a tumbler when he walked in. “I’m ready.”
I had to bite my tongue to hold back the groan that almost escaped my lips when I saw him. Hatuey had always been beautiful to me. Not even teenage acne or the awkward braces years had been able to deter me. Hatuey had always been the embodiment of everything I wanted in a mate. And ten years of friendship had only made that more intense. The boy I’d loved had turned into a man I would’ve happily poured my life into.
I walked up to him without even telling my limbs to move, my body drifting over on its own volition. “I needed to get closer to admire the fit.” We were such a contrast, him compact and slender, while I was just big.
“At least admit you wanted get a closer look at my ass,” he said grudgingly while I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous and extremely accurate observation. He cut his eyes at me as he slid his hands in his trouser pockets and turned in a circle so I could admire him from all sides. He was wearing the Ralph Lauren tux I’d convinced him to let me buy for him, since more times than not he was my plus one for these types of events. I almost laughed at the fact that most of my teammates were convinced we were boyfriends. If they only knew.
“Looking sharp,” I said, waving a finger at his forehead, where his hair was combed to the side, like one of those old Hollywood movie stars. “You going for the Cary Grant look?”
He shrugged, both hands smoothing over his lapels as he ran hungry eyes over my own custom Tom Ford ensemble. “I can pull off Cary Grant.” He really could, down to the chin dimple and keen brown gaze. He grinned wickedly as he came close enough that he was eye to eye with my bow tie. “And you’re putting out some serious ‘M’baku goes to the gala’ vibes right now.” The next part came out in a husky whisper that went straight to my dick. “I’m into it.”
I was too weak to resist touching him, but instead of palming the side of his face and bringing him in for a kiss like I wanted, I blindly placed the tumbler of rum on the sideboard beside us and straightened his tie. He wasn’t a fan of bow ties, so I had an excuse to run my hand all the way down his chest. His nostrils flared and his breath hitched as I got to the spot right below his ribcage.
I stood there, swaying from the feel of him, letting myself have one more second of the fantasy in which there was no family to disappoint, no fallout from making him mine. He tipped his face up to me, asking. Offering his lips for the kiss I desperately wanted.
No, I could not forget the love with which his father looked at him today. I could not be responsible for taking that from him.
I stepped back and tipped my head, as if I to offer his outfit one last sign-off. “Ready?”
Hatuey gave me a long look. Like he wanted to crack my head open and look inside. But he didn’t push, he didn’t flirt. He just nodded and turned around, walking to the door as he answered, “Vamonos.”
Chapter 7
Hatuey
Once it finally sank in that I was in love with a headass stubborn fool, my plan really came together. Yariel wanted to act like a martyr and not touch me because “honoring my family.” I was going to help him see how much he’d be willing to do to keep me once I started to slip out of his hands.
Some men you can reason with. And some men…you have to make insanely jealous in order to get them to pay attention. I was fine with this scenario. I may have never been Yariel’s lover before this week, but I knew where every single one of his buttons was located. Tonight I was planning to push all of them until he broke.
“So there’s a lot of hate-fuck energy happening here tonight. Is there something I need to know?” asked Chantal, one of my friends from college—and a PR executive for the company sponsoring this gala—as she sipped a flute of champagne, her eyes trained on the object of my irritation.
I took a sip of my own glass of bubbly and lifted my right shoulder in response. “Not much fucking to be had.” I sounded a little bitter, but who could blame me? “But Ihaverecently discovered that my favorite person on earth is also extremely good at fucking me.”
I wasn’t looking at Chantal but heard her struggle with not blowing champagne out her nose at my revelation. “Hatuey, for fuck’s sake, warn a person,” she wailed as I pulled a linen handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to her. “You still carry those?” she asked, charmed, and even that hurt, because of course Yariel got me dozens of monogrammed linen handkerchiefs since I always kept one in my pocket, because he was fucking perfect.
