“And he never came back!” Simon said, laughing and mugging for the guys. “Craziest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

His best friends laughed and shook their heads, and he felt like he could relax for the first time today.

“I’m not surprised,” said Lucas, “he’s a Cray, he’s used to having other people do all his work for him.”

“Says the guy who makes his best pal do the groundskeeping!” said Rex, which got another laugh.

Karl was setting up the Monopoly board; it wasn’t one of their usual games, but Simon didn’t feel up for anything complicated tonight.

Trust Karl to make it complicated. “We should play by the original rules,” he said.

“I don’t think we even have the instructions anymore,” said Lucas.

“No, not those rules,” said Karl. “The original rules, from 1903, when the game was invented by a leftie lady who was trying to demonstrate the perils of capitalism.”

“Here we go,” said Simon, closing his eyes.

“Her name was Elizabeth Magie, and she was inspired by economist Henry George—”

Simon had heard this particular bit of boardgame history before, and tuned it out. He opened his eyes again, and took in the room. They were at Lucas’s house, in the large den that looked out over the lake. Sometimes they met at someone else’s house, but this was always Simon’s favorite; he could sink into one of the big couches and imagine what it must be like to have this much money.

There was Lucas, beginning to argue with Karl about the necessity of wealth. Lucas Phelps, youngest son of the Phelps family, the natural enemy of the Crays; their two families had been feuding since the dawn of time. Somehow, even though Lucas had all the money in the world, he had been Simon’s friend forever, one of those things that’s only possible in a really small town, he supposed.

Rex was watching Lucas and Karl argue with a bemused grin on his face, occasionally sipping from his spring water. They’d offered to quit drinking beers around him, once he got into recovery, but he’d always said, why mess with tradition? I know you guys are looking out for me. These days he was living in a little house on the Phelps property, doing the landscaping in return for room and board.

Karl being here was actually a pleasant surprise. He didn’t always hang out with the guys. He had, as he said, Actual Friends elsewhere. Simon was glad he was here tonight, though. He needed the familiarity, even if it involved yet another lecture.

“So, is he as hot as Ash and Callum?” asked Pete, knocking Simon out of his reverie.

“Do what?”

Ah, Pete. The wiseguy of the group. “This Evan guy. Ash and Callum are pretty hot. Did he inherit their stately, aristocratic cheekbones and asses?”

“Jesus, Pete. I mean, he’s… Let me say that he’s on the better side of okay,” Simon said.

“Oh shit,” said Pete, “Are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” says Simon.

“Guys! Look at this! Simon is in love! Simon loves his boss, Simon loves his bo-oss,” and then of course they were all chanting it, and it reminded Simon so much of highschool that he got this weird sharp pain of nostalgia.

Could you be nostalgic for the old days, if all the people you liked back then, were still with you?

If anyone else had been literally singing about his attraction to Simon, he might’ve been mad, but as it was, he just shook his head and said, “You assholes,” and took another swig off his beer.

It did make him a little uncomfortable to have to keep a secret. He could never tell them how he knew Evan. He couldn’t tell them about the club. They’d be furious. It was one thing to joke around about being attracted to your boss…but finding out you’d actually made physical contact with a Cray? You’d be excommunicated.

Of course that just brought the other night back into Simon’s mind even more strongly, making Evan’s abrupt departure earlier all the more awkward and strange.

“Simon would never fall for a Cray, would you, loyal ol’ buddy?” said Lucas.

“If the Battle of Cray’s Quarry taught us anything,” said Simon, “It’s that we should never, ever sleep with the Crays. Isn’t that right, Lucas? You’d never sleep with, for example, Ash Cray, would you?”

That got all the guys howling and hooting, banging on the game table, while Lucas smirked. “All in the past, gentlemen, all in the past.”

“Besides,” said Karl, “Simon can’t really love his boss, he has a big mysterious stranger that he’s in love with.”

The room got louder, if that was even possible; details were demanded, possible names were suggested.

“Jesus, Karl, I do not have a mysterious stranger,” said Simon.

“He slept with the guy!” insisted Karl.

“Oh my god!” said Simon.

Well, now Evan was stuck in his mind. He was standing so close today. Had he been checking Simon out? He’d gotten that impression a few times, even after they’d shaken hands on the ground rules. It didn’t mean anything—it couldn’t mean anything—but it was driving Simon nuts thinking about it.

He fought off all the insistent questions from his friends. “Can’t we play this damn game?” he said, laughing.

“I don’t think we’re quite done interrogating you,” said Lucas.

“I mean, I don’t blame you,” Simon said. “It’s a tradition for us to roast anyone who dares meet a guy. But let me ask you: Could that possibly be the reason we’re all single?”

“Tell all,” said Pete. “We want to hear every last sordid dripping detail.”

“Pete just wants to fill his spank bank,” said Lucas.

“With me and a stranger? Dude, find other things to fantasize about,” said Simon, glad to finally get a good jab in.

Rex set his bottle of water down and said, “When is one of us going to get a date? Here we are, five eligible bachelors…”

Pete laughed. “Wait, is this the beginning of a porno?”

“God, ew!” said Karl.

“Well, it’s not going to be me,” said Simon. “My mystery stranger…well, he’s gone forever, I’m sure. But I don’t even want a boyfriend right now, you know? I’ve got other things I need to focus on. Everybody in the world may think my job is boring, but I’m learning a lot, and it could actually lead to a career.” Besides, he thought, nobody really likes me, because I’m not an exciting person. Not like Evan, always flying off places and doing dangerous things. I’m always just good ol’ let’s-be-friends Simon.

The truth was, he’d realized back at the quarry how dangerous passion could be. He’d seen someone almost die because of it. It was dumb to let something that happened to you when you were a teenager affect your whole life afterward…but Simon had spent his whole adult life trying to be responsible, avoiding emotional entanglements when he could, avoiding getting so overcome by emotion that he couldn’t think things through.

Was that the truth? The more he thought about it, the more it sounded like a cop-out. Could something from when you were a teenager really keep echoing through your life, affecting all your relationships?

It’s not like he’d been totally isolated all these years. He’d met guys. But nothing really took.

Most of those guys had been like him. Good boys. Responsible. Always serious, always meticulous. Coffee-shop conversations describing their jobs in great and thoughtful detail. Date-planning that took half an hour, exploring options, nearly drawing up pro/con lists for the few restaurants in town. Getting lost in the details, never feeling that sense of escape, never feeling that he was being plucked out of his ordinary life, into something extraordinary.

Maybe that was something to be afraid of. Maybe extraordinary was too scary. Because if what you’re doing is Important Serious Work, the last thing you want is to be pulled away from it by someone who is gorgeous and chaotic and free.

Simon scowled at his beer. Was that his whole romantic universe, then? Boring guys he couldn’t connect with on one side, exciting guys he was scared of on the other?

Better not to think about it. Be a good employee, be a good friend and brother and son, keep your head down, wait for something to happen, some signal that you’ve found someone who fits.

One thing about being here with the guys, you couldn’t stay lost in thought for long. Pete piped up: “Maybe the first real couple among us will be Simon and his hot new boss. Come on man, we all know Evan’s the jet-setting playboy deluxe.”

“Yeah, right,” said Simon. “Do I need to count down all the reasons I would never fall for an irresponsible, chaotic mess like that?” He felt a little bad for saying that. Did Evan deserve it? Setting his guilt aside, Simon plunged on: “Besides, like we all agreed: Mortal Enemies! Never forget the Battle of Cray’s Quarry!”

“To Cray’s Quarry!” said Pete, raising his bottle, and they all clinked and toasted.

Simon took a long pull on his beer. I swear, here and now, that I am going to put Evan Cray out of my mind entirely.