It was a nice party. There were tiny little paper nurses tied to the trees. They fluttered in the wind, and a few had torn free and were floating on top of Cayuga Lake.
I’d been to a few parties before, but never one for a bunch of nursing students who’d just graduated. The music was the oddest stuff I’d ever heard. There was also a disco ball suspended from a tree, but it was broad daylight, so that struck me as bizarre as well. Actually, the whole event was weird, but since the invitation had been hand-delivered by the Cougars Special Teams Coach with a not-so-veiled threat to show up or die, I’d shown up.
Lingering by the buffet table suited me. People were dancing and laughing, and I was poking at Swedish meatballs with a straw. This was a typical party for August Miles, as sad as that was to acknowledge.
An arm dropped over my shoulder and I jumped, sending a meatball flying off the platter onto the grass.
“Did you notice that the lead singer for this horrendous band has a face like a jar of smashed assholes?” Victor Kalinski asked, and I nodded furiously. I hadn’t paid any attention to the singer of the disco band. Victor just put me on edge. Even now, after several months of hanging out with him off the ice, the man scared me more than a little.
“Yeah, smashed assholes,” I replied as I looked at the singer belting out a tune about infernos and discos. I hadn’t heard any of the songs they’d played over the past forty minutes. The guy looked okay to me.
“I knew it.” Vic smiled, then leaned on me just a bit. “I told Heather that, but she informed me that I was a smashed asshole and hired this lame-ass band anyway. If you see me wading out into Cayuga Lake with a glazed look on my face, don’t be alarmed. I’m just drowning myself to end the misery this music is inflicting.”
“Okay, I’ll let you kill yourself,” I muttered, and dared a glance at the freshly-shaved redhead hanging off me.
He gave me a scorching look. “I was kidding, Augie.”
“Oh, yeah, I know.” I doubted I would ever really catch on about the sarcasm thing. Since that was mainly what Victor spoke, I was doomed to make a fool of myself every time we made dialog happen.
“No you didn’t, you dweeb. So, did you bring a date?”
“Oh, no, nope, no date,” I stammered.
My gaze roamed the gathering in search of Mario and Madame Lila. They were late, and I needed someone as a buffer between this man and me. The longer he talked, the more anxious I got. Why he always needled me about my social life was another mystery for the ages. Maybe he was like a dog, and once he sensed your fear he just kept nipping at your heels. Not that Victor was mean. Well, okay, he was mean, but he was that way with everyone, not just me. Probably it was just me being over-sensitive. Lila always said I was too gentle a soul to be associating with this wild band of skating gorillas. I liked Lila. She was so at peace with herself and her identity. I envied her. Hell, I envied all the Cougars who could be themselves in public.
“Ah well, maybe we can find you a hot nursing student to get jiggy with,” he said, and began pointing out young women. And then a couple of dudes. Did he know? God, I hoped not. How could he know? My tongue felt fat as I tried to make remarks that I thought might sound het. No one aside from Mario knew I was gay, and he wouldn’t have outed me. No way. Coming out was not an option. My father and mother would suffer a meltdown about that kind of news from their only child. They’d adopted me late in life, so they tended to hover like a couple of old penguins who’d never thought they would ever be blessed with an egg, and then Glory Be! They’re given one lone penguin chick. You know? It was touching, sure. And kind of suffocating at times. The only reason I’d told Mario was that I’d kind of been crushing on him back in the fall and had needed to get it off my chest before I exploded.
“Babe, really, are we doing this again?” asked Dan Arou, Victor’s husband, as he stepped up to us with two glasses in his hands. One he handed to Vic, the other he kept to sip on. Both looked like fizzy brown soda. “Would you stop trying to push people on poor Augie? Maybe he’s trying to keep a clear head so he can stay on top of his game. We are four games away from a playoff berth.”
“Did you fall back into the forties or something? Come on, we all know sex is a great way to relieve stress, and Augie here must have stress leaking out of his ears, since he’s never seen with a chick.”
I blinked at Dan during the pause.
“You’re not gay, are you?” Victor asked a second later.
“Me? Please! I’m wheeling chicks all the time, dude. I have to check the gypsy moth caterpillars,” I coughed out.
I wiggled away from the married couple and walked as quickly as I could to the nearest tree wide enough to conceal me. Back resting against the trunk of a big oak, I glanced up into the thick green leaves and exhaled slowly.
Could you have acted any more closeted, August?
“Probably,” I whispered as a warm May wind rustled the green leaves. The air smelled of Cayuga Lake. I wished I could leave this party, but I had to stay for at least an hour according to Lila. Who was I to question Madame Lila on etiquette?
“Hey, there you are!” Heather bounced around the tree, her blond hair loose, her smile bright, and her arms full of Jack, her and Victor’s son. The baby was big, happy, and growing in some amazingly red hair. He also drooled. A lot. “Dan said you came back here to check out the gypsy moth caterpillars?”
I nodded and looked skyward after she tipped her head back to look at the oak leaves. Heather Pavlick really was the All-American girl ideal, and she was super nice. She and Dan’s cousin Brooks had been dating for months now. They’d even moved in together two months ago, so it sounded like things were getting serious for them. It felt like everyone in our group had someone but me.
“I hate bugs that harm trees,” Heather finally said, and met my look. “Why don’t you come on down to the dock and dance with us?”
“Oh, I’m not very graceful,” I told her, and she laughed, which made Jack laugh. He had two teeth. Man, he was a pleasant kid. His good humor must come from his mother.
“Augie, you’re a goalie—of course you’re graceful,” she playfully argued. Jack stuck one fat hand into his mouth and made talking noises around his fist. Spit coated his fingers and wrist. Heather seemed unconcerned about the drool dripping onto her flowery summer dress. “Come on out and meet some people. You’ll never find that special someone hiding behind a tree looking for caterpillars.”
Trying to get out of it would do no good. When Heather and the others put their minds to trying to set me up, they were as persistent as bulldogs. The only one who never pushed me into asking a woman out was Mario, for obvious reasons. He did try, weekly, to lure me into going to some gay club in Auburn New York. Even though it was only thirty minutes away, I wasn’t into that pulsating club scene at all.
“I kind of like it here in the shade and— Okay, guess we’re going to go meet people,” I sighed as she latched on to my wrist and pulled me toward the dock. Jack grinned at me over her shoulder. I felt like a moron being led around by a girl half my weight and a foot shorter than I was.
“Oh look, it’s Salvatore! Sal!” Heather shouted over the horn section of the band.
I glanced over her head, and my gaze locked with warm, dark brown eyes set into an amazingly handsome face. I stumbled over my big feet as a rush of attraction danced over my skin. Salvatore gently wiggled around a dancing couple. As he closed the distance, I checked him out using Jack as a shield.
Sal was an older man, late thirties or so, and appeared to be Latino. His skin was tawny brown, his hair worn short but neatly styled and as black as obsidian. He was at least as tall as my six foot two inches, but a little leaner. A neatly trimmed beard hugged a strong jawline.
His long frame was casually outfitted in jeans and a soft summer shirt with short sleeves. I glanced down to make sure I didn’t fall off the dock. Heather and Sal embraced each other, his eyes staying on me even as they briefly hugged. I glanced down at my feet again, then up at the clear blue sky.
“I’m so glad you made it,” Heather bubbled as they separated. “How’s your neighbor’s gout?”
“Much better, thanks to you,” Salvatore said. His voice was strong and deep. I liked it. I also liked how he stepped around Heather to stand by me. I could smell his cologne now. It was earthy. “I’m glad you were on duty yesterday when she came in.” I pulled my gaze from the sky to find his attention still on me. “She’s one amazing nurse, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s amazing,” I replied while trying to tear my sight from his. “And doing all that with a baby makes her doubly amazing.”
“I had tons of help,” Heather said, and shifted her son to her other hip. “Brooks watched him at night so I could study and not fall behind. Vic and Dan took him every weekend so I could grab extra credit assignments.”
“But it was you who broke her back to ensure she graduated on time,” Sal argued pleasantly. Our gazes were still entangled. “Is this a friend of yours?”
“Oh gosh, I am such a bean-head! Salvatore Castenada, this is August Miles. Augie plays goalie for the Cayuga Cougars,” she said, bouncing Jack up and down. “Sal here works at Cayuga General.” Heather patted Sal’s biceps affectionately. “He’s a transport orderly.”
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you, August.” Sal extended his hand, and I caught sight of a tattoo of a sun or flower on the back of his hand near his thumb. I placed my damp palm over his dry one, and frissons of desire danced up my arm. We shook for much longer than anyone in Martens Bay—my home town—would probably have found acceptable. “I was just going to get a drink and take a rest under a shady tree. You two want to join me?”
“You guys go ahead.” Heather smiled at Sal, then at me. “I’m going to try to find Brooks so we can have a slow dance. Thanks for coming, Sal.” She leaned in to peck his cheek, then gave me a smooch as well.
Sal and I stood there on the dock, amid new nurses and hockey players shaking their moneymakers, watching Heather and Jack bounce through life spreading giggles as they went.
“Well, it looks like it’s just you and me, August,” Sal said a moment later.
I threw him a quick look and gave him a nod.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Okay, yeah.” Ugh. Why couldn’t I be more self-assured? I slapped myself mentally.
Sal smiled at me, and wow, any meager words that might have been coming along hit a brick wall. He was stunning when he smiled. He had a nice mouth. His lips looked soft. Kissable. I’d never kissed a dude with a beard. The thought made me wiggly.
“A man of few words—I can respect that.” He put his hand on my lower back. My skin prickled even though his hand was resting on cloth and not skin. “Let’s sit and talk about hockey. I’ll confess I don’t watch it much. I’m more a baseball man myself.”
With the tips of his fingers resting on my lower lumbar, we walked away from the dock and the dancers. We stopped at the drinks tent. Sal got a bottled water with a slice of lime, and I got a bottle of Labatt’s Blue. As we made our way to a pavilion with several picnic tables down by the lakeshore, I desperately tried to come up with interesting things to say to this sexy man.
“I’m from Canada,” I blurted out as we settled at a rustic old wooden table. My back was to Cayuga Lake. “Martens Bay, Manitoba.”
“I thought I detected an accent,” he replied, then took a sip of his water. “Most hockey players are from Canada, right?”
“Lots are, but some are from other places.” Well, obviously, Augie, or getting Olympic teams together would be tricky. “I mean, we make plenty of hockey players in Canada, but America makes a bunch too. They got some in Sweden and Russia. Hockey players, they got hockey players in those places too.”
He gave me a smile that made me feel hot and dumb. The hot part was nice. The dumb part I didn’t really need, since I was making enough dumb already. Saying enough dumb things, I meant to say. Think. I meant to think. Maybe I should just roll back into the lake and end this misery now.
“You’re cute as hell when you fumble over your words,” Sal told me. The heat he was creating inside me grew. “I’m not reading this wrong, am I? You are gay, right?”
I blinked at him and sat there like a moron, my Labatt’s resting between my hands.
His dark eyebrows tangled. “Did I get the wrong message on the dock? You did allow my hand to rest on your back as we walked.”
I looked at the people milling around the celebration, my lower lip caught between my teeth.
“Oh, I think I understand. You’re not out yet, are you?” Sal asked quietly.
I shook my head and stole a look. The worried look eased from his face. I took a long pull from my beer and worked up a tiny ball of courage.
“Are you?” I dared to ask.
“For close to seventeen years, since the day after my twenty-first birthday. I’d been out the night before and gotten ten rungs above shit-faced,” he replied softly. A flitter of sadness crossed his face then disappeared.
We’d both leaned our forearms on the table. I was so uncomfortable, sitting still was hard. Embarrassment and desire made me look at Sal and then quickly away. I spied a small brown sparrow working on a nest in a corner of the pavilion.
“I told my parents that I was gay during breakfast. Right over the eggs and orange juice. Blam!”
My gaze flew from the sparrow to Sal. “Seriously?”
He nodded while prodding with his green-and-white stirrer at the slice of lime that floated in his water. “That must have been some breakfast.”
“Oh, it sure was.” He chuckled dryly. “In all honesty, I only meant to ease the old folks into it.” Sal ran the tip of his tongue over the lime slice he’d pulled out of his bottle with his pinkie finger. His nose wrinkled and sent his adorable rating through the roof. “You know what my mom and dad said?”
I shook my head, totally absorbed in the story and the subtle Spanish accent a few of his words seemed to be flavored with.
“My father looked me in the eye and said, ‘Hell, son, we’ve known that for three years. Pass the pepper.’”
“Wow,” I murmured, my gaze lingering on his long fingers as he poked the lime wedge back down into the bottle. The sides of his bottle were slippery with condensation. I wondered, if he reached out to touch me, if his fingertips would be cool and damp on my skin. Sure they would. I wiggled around, trying to give my dick some breathing room.
“Wow about covers it.” He glanced up from his spring water to me. I really liked looking at his face. It was a beautifully masculine face. One that had real character. That appealed to me greatly. “So, that’s my big coming-out-to-the-family-while-hungover-story. What about you? Do your parents know?”
“No, nope.”
He pursed his lips, then nipped at the corner of his mouth. I battled back the urge to lean all the way over the table and put my mouth on his. Would he like it if I did that? He seemed to like me. Then again, I had no clue how gay men acted aside from old episodes of Will & Grace or sneaking peeks at Kalinski and Arou when they thought no one was looking.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
I gave him a shaky smile and rolled my beer between my hands.
“You’ll tell them someday when the time is right. It’s not something you can rush.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I replied, then started rolling my bottle a little faster.
“What can you tell me about hockey?” Sal enquired.
My eyes met his over the table before darting back to the bird. The sparrow flew off to look for more nesting material.
“What do you want to know?”
“I’d like to know whatever you want to tell me. How old were you when you started playing?” Sal asked, and I told him.
Then I went on to tell him the entire history of August Jones Miles’ hockey career from Pee Wee up to and through the draft. I filled his ears with stories about my first season with the Cougars, how we were poised to grab a playoff spot for the first time in over ten years, and how amazing it was to be part of such a special group of men. When I ran out of hockey talk, Sal was smiling at me.
“What?” I glanced behind me to see what he found so humorous. Maybe one of the party guests was skinny-dipping or something. Nope. There was nothing but water and a few birds flying low over the surface of the lake trying to catch bugs.
“You do love talking about hockey,” he chortled.
I blushed hotly and found the nesting sparrow for a moment. When my eyes met his again, he reached out to lay his cool hand on my forearm. The contact made me inhale sharply. Sal’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Do you not like me touching you?”
“I like it,” I finally whispered.
He gave my arm a light squeeze. “That’s good to know. If you feel uncomfortable, just say so.”
If only he knew how badly I wanted him to run those cool fingertips of his over other parts of my body, he’d probably…well, maybe he’d run them over the places I asked him to. My dick was so hard now it was somewhat painful.
“You’ve got the most soulful eyes, and a really cute way of cocking your head when you’re in thought,” he said. “And it’s obvious that you love hockey a great deal.”
“Oh yeah, hockey’s my life, my savior. What about your job? Do you love it? I don’t know what a transport orderly is.”
A light wind blew off the lake. It ruffled his thick hair. I squirmed around just a little more.
“You know the people who push patients to the operating room on gurneys?”
I nodded as my gaze lingered on his throat.
“That’s what I do, among other things. It’s a good job. Pays well. I have a place a block from the hospital, so I can walk to work.”
“I have my own place too. And a car. Being fed into the AHL meant a raise, which was great. The pay scale in the ECHL is bottom-feeder. There were weeks me and a couple of guys I roomed with lived on canned meat and crackers.”
“Nothing worse than canned meat.” He made a disgusted face, I laughed, and then he rubbed the back of my arm for a second. He gave it a pat, then pulled his tattooed hand away. “Do you date, August? I’d really like to take you to dinner followed by a movie tonight.”
I gaped at him for a full minute, my mind racing to spin up some hot little fantasy about Sal jerking me off in the balcony of a movie theater. Not that I knew of any theaters with a balcony, but once the erotic daydream had started, I couldn’t shake it.
“Or not.”
“No, I mean, yeah, dinner would be good. Cool. Yeah, dinner is fine. Food is too, you know. Good. Food is good.” Falling back into the lake was sounding good again. Maybe with a rock tied around my neck this time.
Sal’s wary expression shifted into one of mild amusement. Did he find bumbling goalies entertaining? Then his dark eyes slid to the side. I glanced to my right and saw Mario and Lila entering the pavilion. They made a nice couple. Mario looked good in a white shirt and that funky kilt of his. And Lila, well, she always looked amazing. Her dress was white and sparkly. She wore gold sandals. Her hand rested on Mario’s arm. He really did treat her like a queen.
“There you are,” Lila said as they neared. “This is such a lovely spot. First Victor and Dan get married here, and then we get to celebrate another joyous event. Who is this handsome man you’re chatting with, August?”
Sal and I pushed ourselves to our feet. Mario had taught me that early. When his lady walked into a room, you either got up or he hit you in the back of your head hard enough to knock the game controller out of your hand.
“This is Sal Castenada,” I said. Mario gave me a pointed look. I peeked up at the thick wooden beams over our heads until the heat of that look faded. “He works with Heather at the hospital. Sal’s a transport orderly.”
“Well, Sal, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lila.” She gave him her hand. Even her long fingernails were gold.
Sal lifted it to his lips. Wow, he was smooth. Then he murmured something in Spanish that made both Lila and me giggle. Mario’s amused look curbed my stupid snorts.
“This is my paramour, Seamus— Oops, I mean Mario McGarrity. He and August are teammates.”
“Oh, so another Cougar,” Sal said as he and Mario shook hands. “August was just telling me all about the great game of ice hockey.”
“Yeah, Augie loves his crease,” Mario said after the polite handshake ended. “So, are you and Augie good friends?”
Heat crept up my neck. I knew what Mario was asking in a roundabout way.
“We just met about an hour ago,” Sal explained pleasantly.
The band was still blowing on its horns. Whoever had convinced Heather that a disco band at her graduation party would be a good idea needed a kick in the trombone.
“Congratulations on such a fine career,” Lila chimed in with a warm smile. “It must be fulfilling to be in the medical field.”
“Yes, it’s wonderful place to work.” Sal waved a hand at the picnic table. “You want to join us?”
“Thank you, but I couldn’t think of sitting on something so grimy.” Lila frowned at the bench.
“I can take off my kilt and you can sit on that.”
“McGarrity, if you so much as flash a thigh, I’ll be forced to blind all the guests as a courtesy.” Victor, holding his son, ambled into the pavilion with Dan.
“As if your pale white Polish ass is a pretty sight,” Mario fired back.
“I think it’s kind of pretty,” Dan interjected with a sassy wink.
Everyone chuckled. Lila introduced Sal to Vic and Dan. I was too culturally inept to have thought to do it. Soon everyone was talking up a storm. It amazed me how easily some people could talk to strangers. It had taken me months to be able to look Kalinski in the eye. Sal seemed to fit right in. He chatted away, his eyes touching on me frequently. It made me feel funny yet pleased. Each time our eyes met, I felt antsy.
Within ten minutes, all the Cougars who’d been at the party were inside the pavilion. I found myself leaning against one of the rough beams cemented into the ground, nursing my beer, watching everyone interact.
“So, dinner and a movie tonight, then?”
I looked to the right. Sal offered me his plate. I picked a purple grape off the mound of fresh fruit and popped it into my mouth.
“Dinner would be okay,” I said after I’d chewed and swallowed. His brown eyes glowed with pleasure. “But not tonight,” I slid in. “We have a game.”
“Ah, well then maybe I’ll watch a hockey game and make plans for a date with a super cute and adorably shy goalie for Saturday night.” He was standing so close that our elbows rubbed. A hot flicker of desire for the man flared up again.
Since I had nothing clever to say, I merely stared at him, then tapped his empty with my empty. Yep, August Miles is all about the impressive words.