Chapter Two
A week passes, and I haven’t heard from Tim. It’s no big deal, and it’s not like I’ve been staring at my email like a stalker. What am I doing? This is the silliest thing I’ve ever done.
I have applied to numerous companies and tried not to pad my résumé too much. However, it’s hard to say that I’ve been a personal assistant/manager to a Professional Hockey League player without sounding a bit uncommitted to my job. Especially when the PHL player is my baby brother. Nonetheless, a couple companies have reached out to me, and I’m now standing in front of my full-length mirror in a navy blue suit, crisp white dress shirt. But I don’t know what fucking tie to wear. Blue to match the outfit, but that could be too matchy-matchy or yellow, but that could be too bright and make it look like I’m trying too hard.
Fuck.
I go out to the kitchen and thankfully, Meadow is sitting at the table with Kyson, giggling about something. She’s in one of his t-shirts and shorts. She looks adorable, and I feel like a big brother to her as well. She’s been perfect for Kyson and I’m so glad for him.
“Meadow, I need your help.” I hold up the ties. “Which one?”
“What does it matter?” Kyson questions.
“I have my first job interview in eight years. I’m a bit nervous, so shut up and let Meadow tell me what to wear,” I growl at him.
“Kian, you have nothing to be nervous about,” Meadow reassures me. “I’d go with yellow.”
“Why are you nervous? I thought people your age don’t get nervous.” Kyson is trying to be funny, but I want to kick him in the shin.
“Hey.” Meadow slaps his shoulder. Meadow is sensitive about their age difference; she’s ten years older than Kyson. In the beginning of their relationship, it was almost a deal-breaker.
“I’m joking. Only joking.” He kisses her temple. “Kian, I’m sure you will be great.”
I nod, go back down the hall to finish getting ready, and try to act like a mature adult and not flip out.
The interview seems to go smoothly, and I calm down once it’s over. I know walking out I won’t get it, and that’s okay. Practice makes perfect. At least, it’s something my mother used to tell me.
When I get back to my place, Kyson and Meadow aren’t there, and I’m thankful. I don’t want to see disappointment on their faces. I grab a bottle of water, jerk off my tie and jacket, grab the laptop, and sit in the living room to check emails.
Right there at the top of my inbox: Timothy Gibbs. Subject: Contract.
A smile appears on my face and I open it up. I don’t figure he would write anything in the body of it, but to my surprise there is.
Kian,
Could we go over this together? Maybe over dinner?
Tim
He has the contract attached, but all I can see is the word dinner. I know it’s a business dinner and nothing more. I know it’s even dumber to think it’s anything more. I’m a fool. One of the biggest fools there is.
I take a deep breath and type back:
Here is my number. Call me when you want to meet up. I’ll have the contract reviewed by then.
Kian
I go through the rest of the emails and figure food is good right now, but I’m not in the mood to cook anything. I’m about to close the laptop when the never-ending ding of the emails hits the speakers.
Only this time…
Kian,
How about tonight? You can come to my place, and we can discuss the contract privately. Does that gives you enough time?
Tim
Well, my day just turned around.
If picking an outfit for a job interview was difficult then a non-date-but-want-it-to-be-a-date is much worse. I decide I want to be comfortable and go for dark jeans and a simple polo. Kyson is at Meadow’s, and I don’t have to answer any of his questions about where I’m going. I drive over to Tim’s house, well, mansion.
The contract is simple: a basic work contract between Tim and the Bears broadcasting staff. It seems Tim is taking a job with the Bears as a full-time announcer. It seems fitting for him. I’ve seen him in interviews. He has an ease about him in front of the camera and is extremely knowledgeable about the PHL, players, and the game overall. I’ve been around Tim enough to hear his in-depth talks about the game and he belongs in front of the camera.
I rang the bell, holding the printed contract and the notes of changes tightly in my hand. When he opens the door, his blond hair is neatly groomed, and his green eyes shine. Not to mention, he’s hot as hell in his light jeans and green button down. He doesn’t look thirty-five standing there.
“Kian, I don’t know how to thank you for this. Please, come in.” He holds the door for me and I walk in. “I’m just finishing up.”
I nod and follow him through the dining room, which is already set up with two place settings. It looks romantic, and suddenly, I’m more confused than ever. Is this a date?
“I love to cook,” Tim says as he opens the oven door. “I didn’t get to do much of it when I was playing. Now that I’m retired, I get to gain a bunch of weight,” he jokes, pulling out two chicken breasts that seem to be stuffed with something. “I hope you like everything. I didn’t ask you if there’s something you don’t like.”
“No, I’m not picky at all.” I smile and set the papers down on the counter. “Do you want to talk about the contract now?”
“Nah,” he waves his hand. “Let’s eat and relax. Hey, do you want to pour the wine?” He nods his head over his shoulder. “White okay?”
“Sure and sure.” I go over, open the bottle of wine, and then walk into the dining room, pouring some into each glass.
Behind me, Tim comes out with our plates, and it looks like something from a five-star restaurant. “So, tonight’s menu is a baked chicken breast stuffed with spinach and provolone cheese, accompanied by grilled asparagus. Anything on here you don’t like?” Tim asks as we sit down at the table.
“Every part of it sounds delicious.” I beam. I’m beaming?
“I have to confess, I’m a bit nervous. I’ve not been on a date in forever.” He cuts into his meat, but I stop cold.
Did I hear him? I did hear him, right?
Tim looks up at me. “Is something wrong?”
“I...I hadn’t realized this was going to be a date.” It’s a half-lie.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Man, I’m so stupid.” He drops his utensils. “It’s immature to send an email to ask someone out, or use a contract as an excuse. I’m sorry, Kian, I should have planned this out better.” Tim seems genuinely upset.
“Wait, please, hear me out.” I touch his forearm. “Let me explain. I didn’t know you were gay, and I wanted this to be a date. Hell, it took me forty minutes to pick out an outfit so it didn’t seem like I was on a date. I’m glad to be here. I promise.”
“I think everyone knows I’m gay. I mean, I never put it in a press release because it’s no one’s business. But I’ve never hid it,” he states matter-of-factly.
“I was thinking you were, but I didn’t want to push or call you out. No pun intended.” I smile and pick up my knife and fork. “I’m glad to be here.”
“Great.”
Throughout the entire dinner, Tim and I discuss everything and anything. I tell him about looking for a new job, how much I love Kyson, and how I will make sure he’s taken care of. Tim tells me all about his supportive, loving parents, some funny stories, and some of the achievements of his career. But I can tell he’ll miss the time on the ice, his teammates, and the game, but he’s excited about his next adventure in broadcasting.
We clean up our plates and dinner together. It’s nice, and the conversation is at ease. There’s no awkward silence or uncomfortable parts of conversation. It’s one of the best first dates I’ve ever had.
“Want to grab the wine and move into the living room?” Tim picks up the bottle.
“Sounds good.” I follow him to the couch and take a seat at one end. He sits in the middle, next to me. I watch as he pours more wine into our glasses.
“Since you’re out but not out, have you had many relationships?” I can’t ever remember seeing him with anyone. I know this is a serious topic, but what the hell?
“Nothing more than a few flings. The guys I’ve been with can’t deal with my schedule, and most don’t even like hockey.” He chuckles. “What about you?”
“Well, I kept mine hidden most of my life. My first was in college and most of my encounters were there. When college was over, there was a guy, and I thought something was there, but he didn’t like the fact I wasn’t out, and he left me. Since then, it’s been a one-night stands, until Stan. Once Kyson found out, it was much better, but now…” I shrug.
“I heard Kyson talking about it in the locker room one day. Such a shame. I am sorry to hear it.”
I sigh. “I didn’t tell my brother, but Stan broke up with me because I do everything for Kyson. I know he’s twenty-five, and I know he’s a mature adult, but he’s my only family left, and it makes me feel better. However, I’ve recently realized I need to cut the apron strings a bit. It’s why I’m looking for a job.”
Tim nods. “I can understand that, and I think Stan’s wrong. You and Kyson have a serious bond and it’s special. You shouldn’t let anyone tell you what to do.”
“Thank you. I kind of needed to hear from someone who’s looking from the outside in.” I smile. I can feel myself getting hotter with Tim sitting so close to me. “Um, about the contract, do you really want to see my notes?”
“Actually, yes I would like to.”
I nod and get up from my comfortable position on the couch and go grab the contract. When I come back, I go over the few things I marked and explain a different wording to help him in the end.
“Kian, this is great. Thank you so much. I had a lawyer look over this, and he didn’t even catch those. How much do I owe you?”
“Oh,” I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing this for so many years with Kyson, it’s comes naturally now.” I try to act as if it’s not a big deal when in reality contract writing is a huge deal. A simple the, is, or even and changes an entire contract.
“No, seriously.” Tim sets the contract down.
“We’ll call it even with the amazing dinner.” I check my watch and notice how fast this night has gone by. “I should be going.” I stand, and he follows me.
“Right. I’m sure you have things to do.”
I shrug. “A job interview and it’s early. I swear it’s not a line either,” I joke as I reach the door.
“Kian,” Tim says my name in a lower tone. “I’d like to see you again. Maybe tomorrow, if you’re open.”
A grin comes across my face before I can stop it. “I would enjoy seeing you again.”
“I’d like to cook again. If you don’t mind.” He steps right up to me.
We’re eye-to-eye, and I know what’s about to come. I’m no teenager. However, the question is who leans in first? It’s the part of kissing I hate. The first move. This time, it’s Tim.
Our lips touch, and the spark is struck. He pulls me closer and grips my hips. I can feel his hardness already, and my dick twitches at the contact. Our kiss intensifies as our tongues touch. I hold him closer, and the light scruff of his pale beard tickles me. I never want to leave this spot, but finally, I pull back.
“Sorry, I got carried away.” Tim’s smile makes my dick twitch again.
“I did too.”
“Tomorrow. Yes. I’ll be here. I’ll bring wine.” I’m stammering, trying to find words that don’t make me sound like a fool, but it’s not working well.
“Great.” He’s still smiling, and I quickly turn and head out to my car.
What the hell just happened, and when can it happen again?