Chapter Three
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said for what must have been the hundredth time. I’d gone over to his house right after leaving Kevin Dean and his husband. When I told Jeremy what had happened, he’d been furious. He called Kevin and dropped him as a client. He’d explained to him that he wasn’t running a whore house, and if Kevin needed to find someone to play with him and his husband, he should get online and not hit on guys just doing their jobs.
Jeremy also explained to me that if he had known that they had intentions like those, he would have never given me the client in the first place.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I explained to him. “You did everything right. They were just creeps.”
“If you say so,” Jeremy said. He seemed to be feeling more down about it than I would have expected him to. “Can I get you a drink? I’m going to have one myself.”
I wasn’t much of a drinker. A lot of people I knew, other trainers as well, were into drinking and drugs, but it wasn’t really for me. I tried to treat my body as best as I could whenever I could. But after the events of the day, I decided I could use a little something to take the edge off.
Jeremy made me a drink, a Moscow Mule. It was delicious. I could barely taste any liquor in it. After the first one, I started in on a second one.
“I’m buzzed,” I said and I started laughing for no reason at all. I understood why people drank. It made them feel good. All the stuff that happened earlier in the day seemed to be slowly fading from my mind.
“You’re a cute drunk,” Jeremy laughed. His eyes had this weird glazed over look as he glanced at me. We were both sitting on his couch and he leaned back in his seat.
We kept on making small talk. He told me about how he hoped to be able to have a real way to check out clients before they were invited to the Elite Program.
After a while, I felt myself starting to get tired. “I should go home,” I yawned. “I’m kind of tired and I need to get out of these clothes.”
“Are you sure you’re all right to go home?” he asked. “You don’t usually drink, and I don’t want you to get sick or anything. You know my couch is always open to you.”
“Nah,” I stood up. “I’m fine.”
I wasn't completely fine but I could manage. Jeremy got up and walked me to the door. He opened it, but after a second, he closed it. He looked at me, his eyes staring softly into mine. He took a deep breath and then he was on me.
Before I knew what was going on, he was kissing me. I’d never kissed a man before. His lips were softer than I would have imagined but whether it was the alcohol or something else, he was much rougher than I would have guessed. I pushed him away.
“Jeremy, what the hell?” I was starting to sober up. I wiped my mouth as though that would remove the moment that had just happened.
He looked more upset at me for yelling at him than anything. The look in his eyes was a mix of sadness and pain. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled and he sounded pitiful.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked. I turned to leave but he stopped me.
“Please, Christian, don’t go,” he pleaded, seeming desperate. He put his hand on my shoulder.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, suddenly noticing that his eyes were full of tears on the verge of falling.
He opened his mouth to speak and shut it again. He took a deep breath and started to speak. “I love you,” he said. “And I’ve tried not to. I wish I didn’t.”
“What?”
“You came here all those months ago. When I first met you, I thought you were handsome, but that was it. But as time went on, we became close. I shared things with you, personal things. You never judged. You made me laugh. I could just be myself around you,” he explained. He seemed to be avoiding my gaze purposely.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said. I could see from the look on his face that he had wanted to say this to me for a while.
He didn’t seem to hear me. He went on as if I hadn’t said anything. “That’s why I was so upset earlier after you told me what had happened. I wanted to protect you. I would never want to put you in a position for someone to do something to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. I’ve dated many guys, but none of them are like you.”
“Jeremy,” I said softly, “look, we’ve both been drinking. Maybe it has something to do with the liquor.”
“I’ve fallen for you and I don’t know what to do,” he said, more to himself than to me. “What a fucking cliché—the gay guy falls for the straight friend he’ll never have.”
I’m not sure where the feeling came from, but the last thing Jeremy said resonated with me. I felt something in my chest that I hadn’t felt in forever, and I was shocked. It wasn’t pity, it was something else. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to do a lot of things with him. I gently walked over to Jeremy and grabbed his hand. He looked up at me.
Our lips met, this time slower and much less roughly. I could feel the stubble that was starting to form on his face against mine. As his soft lips touched mine, I felt something stir in me again. I don’t know what it was. A soft moan escaped my lips before the confusion set in.
“I need to go,” was all I said before I headed out the door and into the night. No doubt Jeremy was standing there confused.