Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“As long as I don’t have to listen to it…” I quipped.
But the uncertainty coiled around my heart, refusing to give an inch. My brow wrinkled as I locked my head faced forward into the sun. The reminder of the oppression I had always lived under was too much. It took me to a dark place I never wanted to know again.
I was too edgy. I bent at the waist, reaching for the bottle of suntan lotion, squirting a sizable amount in my palm. I didn’t really need it based on the time of day, but I wanted the distraction.
“Do you want me to rub that on your back?” Dash asked, sitting up too.
I didn’t readily respond because the self-doubt tasted like acid on my tongue.
“Why aren’t you answering? I was kidding about our incompatibility.” He adjusted his position until he moved into my line of vision. “We’re tucked between the dunes. It’s a private beach. We can’t be spotted.”
I had to find a way to calm down the panic building inside me. He grabbed the lotion from my hand and squirted the cool liquid directly on my back. I arched away from the cold. His hand followed, swiping roughly up and down my back. My uncertainty spun between Dash’s hand being everything and nothing I deserved.
“You sure get awfully quiet. I’m sorry for whatever I said that freaked you out. It wasn’t my intention.” He tossed the lotion to the side and dropped back down on his towel. “You’ve mentioned Scott quite a bit. I have a good friend like that too. His name’s Chandler. We’ve been in school together since preschool, so maybe three years old. We got dicey when I told him I was gay. It didn’t last. A few years later he came out as bi.”
“Did y’all date?” I asked.
He chuckled and kept his eyes closed. “No. Absolutely not. All our friends believe we have, but we haven’t.”
Chandler. I marked his name in my mind then took a conversational turn. “Your life’s more accepting than mine. I can’t imagine tellin’ anyone. I can’t believe I told you,” I said, and turned, sitting crisscross on the beach towel, directly in front of him.
“It has to be lonely and painful to not be able to live your true life.” The gentle tone he used made me feel like I wasn’t hiding my insecurity. He shifted until he took on my stance, sitting in front of me. The frontal assault of how handsome he was paired with all that confidence helped settle the newest ache in my heart. I stared directly into his blue depths.
“I quit football because I got a hard-on in the locker room. I played varsity as a freshman, and the guys were all older than me. More developed. Like men. It turned me on, and I couldn’t control it.”
“Yeah, that sounds like it’d be a problem.” Something akin to compassion crossed Dash’s brow, turning him serious. His fingers reached out to caress my thigh. I couldn’t let it happen. I wasn’t ready for him to touch me in such a semi-public place. But the comfort he tried to give didn’t go unnoticed. It was nice that he understood.
“I played Lacrosse, and even with me knowing everyone in my school and my parents being wealthy, it wouldn’t have been good for me if anything like that happened.” His lips mashed together. Sorrow crinkled the corner of his eyes. “I guess your father’s a homophobe.”
“My father’s a sexist, racist, violent guy. He’s a local celebrity back home. It didn’t go well when I quit. If I told him why, it’d been far worse. He’d’ve put me in a conversion therapy program, for sure. The more difficult, the better. He likes to toughen me up. But me quittin’ ruins his plans for my life that he’s been workin’ on since I was young. I’m to play football in college. He and I are a package deal. We go together all the way to the NFL. He’s ambitious, eventually becomin’ a head coach. He’d pick Dallas if given a choice. He’s crazy arrogant.”
“It’s not about you. It’s about him.” That was the one thing no one ever recognized. People thought I was a phenom player, dedicated to God’s sport, wanting to go all the way.
“I think he feels like I’m the example of what he can make of a player, if given a chance…”
Dash laughed a harsh bitter sound, stopping me from saying anything more. “What a narcissist. If you have natural talent and quick reactions, that’s on you.”
“Yeah, no. He doesn’t see it that way, but that’s not even the problem. Imagine what would happen if he heard I had a hard-on in the locker room?”
Dash laid back, arm under his head as he stared at the sky. “Yeah. That stinks. I’m sorry you’re going through that.”