CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BLAKE
I’ve found my nirvana, my top of the world. Usually after I sleep with a girl I’m almost instantly wracked with loathing, can’t wait to get away from them, but not Tia. I’d be a happy man if we never left the bed.
I walk a little stiffer than normal to training. What a workout. Who needs weights?
I can’t help my smile is lotto-win wide, waving and nodding to everyone I pass. Even the sun has decided to show its face, the whole world on my side this morning.
I’m about to push through the door to the pool complex when I hear voices.
I stop, listen harder. They’re coming from the back.
I move to the side of the building and peer around the corner.
Ethan’s standing in the middle of the rear walkway. In front of him are three men in leathers—built, ratty, the kind of guys who you’d find running a pawn shop… or shooting off your arm. I’ve seen their kind before, motorcycle-club most likely. What the fuck are they doing talking to Ethan?
They’re far away enough I can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s clear whoever these guys are, they aren’t happy. There’s too much pointing for that, too much cowering from Ethan.
A split second passes where I consider helping him out, but no, not this time.
One of the goons grabs Ethan and pulls him into a headlock, shouting into his ear. This time the words are clear: “Just fucking get it.”
The biker lets Ethan go and shoves him into the wall, the three amigos walking back down the walkway towards me. I press my back up against the building and wait for them to pass, laughing as they pass around a lighter.
Coast clear, I look back around the corner at Ethan. He’s talking to himself, slapping his head and cursing. Whatever’s happening, he’s got issues—big fucking issues.
Who cares? Let him deal with it. You’ve got other things to worry about.
Ethan comes up behind me when I enter through the front doors. His eyes are bloodshot, his face drawn inwards. He sees me, looks and keeps walking to the changing rooms, completely ignoring the others, even Coach.
Coach looks to me. “What the fuck’s up with Oscar the Grouch and his perpetual period?”
I shrug. “Boy problems, I guess.”
I know the reality is much darker, but he’s on his own. I’m done with Ethan Knight.
*
Tia texts me saying she’ll be out shopping with Lacey. I smile again at the string of emoticons that follow, little hearts and puppies.
You’ve done it. You have fucking done it now.
I sit on my bed back at the apartment, pull the sheets up to my face and breathe her in. God, she smells good.
I’ll be counting down the minutes until she’s back again, that’s for sure. So much to explore, to show her. If she thought last night was incredible, she’s about to get her mind blown when I pull out the toys.
I notice the Polaroids we took on the floor. I pick them up, shuffle through them. She managed to keep my cock out of most of them, even covered herself in the shot I took of her. I run my finger over where I know her cherry nipples are, her flushed and sweaty skin, the puffy mound hidden between her legs that only moments before this photo was taken was sheathing my cock.
I toss the photos back down. Nice as they are, I can’t keep them. I make a mental note to burn them later. The camera itself can be relegated back to taking embarrassing photos of Billy. There’ll be no shortage of material there.
*
Tia texts me again come nightfall to say she’s staying in town with Lacey and the girls. Probably dying to tell them all about her heated encounter with the ‘bad boy of swimming’. I suddenly seize at the thought she might be playing me like she played Ethan, but no, she wouldn’t do that. I can feel the connection, feel it deep down in my gut that we’ve got something special going on, something unbreakable. I’ve never felt like this before, never even fathomed it was possible to feel this way.
I text Magnus to see if he’s up for The Trophy Room. I shout the same through the wall at Billy. If there are cheap drinks and even the remotest chance of picking up chicks, they’re in.
Saturday night and The Trophy Room is going off. I see a lot of new faces, some I’d rather forget.
Billy’s looking at me funny as we approach the bar.
“You right there?” I tell him. “Have I got something stuck in my teeth?”
“It’s weird. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a while, bro. What happened? You finally bang those badminton twins?”
I shake my head. “Nothing quite that exciting, no.”
He blocks my path, unconvinced. “Spill it. Something’s going on in that coconut of yours and I want to know what it is.”
He sees right through me. It doesn’t help I can’t stop fucking smiling. “Holy shit. You slept with Tia, didn’t you?”
“Shh,” I tell him, “keep your god-damn voice down.”
He lowers his voice, pulling closer to my face. “Reed is going to fucking kill you, man.”
“Reed is not going to find out.”
Cutter claps me on the back. “Find out what?”
I give Billy the ‘don’t you fucking dare’, but he’s useless at keeping secrets. “Blake’s banging Tia.”
Cutter laughs and shakes his head. “You dog. Goliath knows no bounds.”
“It’s not like that,” I protest.
“Sure,” Billy nods mockingly. He looks to Cutter. “Pay up, bitch.”
Cutter pulls out his wallet and thumbs out a hundred-dollar bill, passing it to Billy.
I intercept it. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Billy snatches it from me. “Hey, that’s mine, fair and square.”
“You bet Cutter that I’d sleep with Tia?”
Billy takes my shoulder. “I knew you’d deliver the goods, bro.”
I push him away. “Fuck you,” pointing at Cutter, “and you”.
“We’re happy for you, man,” continues Cutter, “happy until old man Reed cuts your balls off”.
They have a nice little laugh, but they’re not wrong. Now these two idiots know it’s simply a matter of time before Coach finds out. I don’t think I’m prepared for that kind of butt hurt yet. I need time to lube up.
I go unwillingly to the bar, the boys ordering round after round until I feel myself slipping back into old shoes.
I’ll give them one thing. They’re relentless. They could have been reporters in another life.
“Spill!” cries Cutter, helping me down another fireball.
I wipe my mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
Billy butts me in the ribs with his elbow. “I bet hers weren’t.”
And off they go again.
I grab my beer. At least if I’m drunk I won’t be able to remember what they’re saying.
Another two fireballs and they’re tag-teaming, chanting, “Tell. Us! Tell. Us! Tell. Us!”
“One thing,” Billy pleads. “One small detail. I beg of you. Did you use the camera? Tell me you took some shots. I could do with new wank material.”
I try to keep quiet, look innocent, but he knows me too well.
“Ah,” he says, eyes lighting up, “you do have photos”.
I push him away. “Dream on, cockasaurus.”
I need to piss. I get up a little off-kilter, stumble forward and notice Ethan sitting at a table right behind us. Holy shit. Prick’s probably heard every word.
“What are you doing here?” Even getting that sentence out is a struggle.
He holds up his beer. “Last time I checked, this was a public bar.”
I press down on his table, come close to belching. “You should leave if you want to keep that pretty face of yours.”
Cutter and Billy come up behind me. “Listen to the man, Ethan. Time to go.”
He downs the last of his beer, wipes his mouth and stands. “If that’s what you want.”
He backs out slowly to the doors smiling, arms wide. He’s smug, way too smug.
I watch the doors close behind him as Billy and Cutter pull me back to the bar. “No, no, we’re not done with you yet.”
“What is this?” I cry. “The Spanish inquisition?”
Billy whispers into my ear. “By the time we’re done with you, you’ll wish it was.”
I take a seat again, turning back to the bar. “Can you dickheads just keep your voices down?”
Cutter stands on his stool and cups his hands around his mouth. “Blake Johnson fucked Tia Reed, everybody.”
A couple of whoops follow from patrons unseen. I pull Cutter down. “The fuck, man!”
A voice from the front doors. “Yes, what the fuck?”
We both look sideways to find Tia and Lacey standing there.
“Tia,” I begin, but I know nothing I can say is going to fix this.
She points at me, eyes growing wet. “I trusted you.”
Lacey pulls her away. “Come on. The further away you get from these assholes, the better.”
I start to run after them. “Tia, wait.”
Cutter holds me back. “Don’t do it, bro.”
I swing at his head, but I’m drunk. I miss it by a mile.
He jumps back. “Whoa, I fucked up, but you’re the one who told Billy. It’s your mess, man.”
Story of my fucking life.