SAM
The 2nd half of the game is more intense. With Steven out of the game, Jeremy falters a few times. He lines something up, perfect to cut to his wingman, and then there’s no one there. Or at least no one that can read his thoughts like his friend seems to be able to.
I’m excited and nervous as I watch the game, and it’s not all to do with the game itself. For the 1st half, I kept getting distracted by Luke running. I’ve seen the guy run thousands of times before, but it’s like I’m seeing him through a sex-filter or something, because now every move he makes is making me a little hot inside.
Doing the taboo—or just thinking about it—really seems to do it for me. I watch his corded leg muscles as they flex with each step, the way his T-shirt clings to his tight chest and stomach, the way the sweat glistens as it runs down his neck . . .
I wonder what he’ll look like when we get naked together.
I wonder if he’ll be turned on enough by me.
I wonder why the hell I can’t think about much else but sex. With another man. Christ, I really must be having a mid-life crisis.
And then I think about that kiss back in the parking lot and I shiver. Those 2 seconds had been unexpected, and not something we should do again.
But . . . Luke’s lips softly grazing over mine . . . well, yeah. It’d also made me warm inside. There was something sweet and touching about it that curled and purred nicely in my belly. It wasn’t sexual at all, it was just . . . comforting. Like giving me a hug with his lips. And how many times before have I wanted to be close enough to give him a hug? To show him I’m happy he’s around?
I bite my bottom lip as I watch Luke give 1 long blow to the whistle and serve a free kick to the Oriental Lions.
Why not have the kisses part of the taboo package for a couple of weeks? What harm could it do, really? I mean, if we kept it from Jeremy. Because I meant what I said about not wanting him to know. The boy is already going through big changes in his own life, and with his mum. He doesn’t need to worry about whatever it is that I’m up to. Especially when it’s only going to last 2 weeks and that’s it.
Not to mention, Jeremy would probably freak out if he thought it wasn’t just him that was gay but his dad too—
Not gay! Just . . . curious.
A female voice catches me off guard and I spin sharply to face Carole.
She raises her eyebrow and shakes her head. “Where were you off to in that head of yours?”
You don’t want to know.
“You’re blushing. My-my mohawk-head, this has to be good.” She comes closer and touches my pierced ear. “He wasn’t having me on then.”
I shrug her off. “How’s Jeremy feeling since you told him? Does he seem to be coming around?”
Carole sighs, and a breeze whips a wisp of her hair over her face. She pulls it back and tucks it behind her ear. “Let’s just say I’m not his favorite at the moment.” Her voice is tight, but she laughs anyway. “Between your . . . whatever you’re going through, and my sudden news—I think we might be in the running for best parental fuckups of the year.”
She folds her arms and watches as the Oriental Lions kick toward the open goal. The goalie pounces on it before it touches the line, though. We both let go of the breath we were holding. The game was at 0-0 and I hoped it’d stay that way until we scored.
When the ball is firmly safe, I look over at Carole. “How well did you take turning 30? And just how well are you taking our son turning 15?”
She gives a snort of laughter. “Oh God. I had a pajama party. All my girlfriends came around and we drank Mojitos till dawn. It was something I always wanted to do . . .” as a teenager goes unsaid, but I hear it anyway.
I slip an arm around her and hold her close to my side for a moment. Despite all that we’ve been through, she is still one of my closest friends. We could never have been lovers though; there was too much emotion and grief between us for that. But we were each other’s best supporters. Especially in the beginning, when we wouldn’t let our parents help.
“As for Jeremy turning fifteen . . .” Carole presses her lips together in thought for a moment. “I’m just so glad he won’t follow in our footsteps.”
I press a small kiss on her temple. “We have an awesome kid. I guess 2 wrongs do make a right.”
We stay close to each other the rest of the game, cheering our side on until the time ends, and the extra time ends, and then it’s down to penalty kicks. We’re extra quiet, all of us, with our breath held.
Finally, the whistle goes off, declaring the winner.
3-2 to the Hutt Penguins.
It’s madness on the field. Half the boys are sulking, but the other half are cheering wildly. Luke and Jack make the two teams line up and shake hands, but as soon as they’re done, Jeremy and Darryl are high-fiving each other, and two other guys are piggybacking around the field, whooping. Simon rushes over to Steven, who’s hobbling over to them, and yanks him into a hug that has them both toppling to the ground laughing. And the goalie is being hoisted up into the air and paraded.
I seek Luke out, and am startled to find he’s looking over at me. I say goodbye to Carole, who slaps my ass in return, and thread my way through the chaos. “Hey ref, good game.”
Jack chimes in over Luke’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
Luke rolls his eyes, and rubs the back of his arm over the sweat beaded at his brow.
A fresh breeze washes over us, bringing the smell of Luke’s body closer, and suddenly I’m imagining the tanginess of it. Heat rushes up my neck, and it’s getting worse with the curious way Luke is eyeing me. His lips turn up at the edges to make his dimples show—and God, but now I’m wondering what they’d feel like against the tip of my tongue.
Luke moves forward as if to pass me, then stops at my side, leaning in so his mouth is close to my ear. “Is your head still where I think it is?”
I blush some more. “Yeah. I can’t seem to, ah, help it.”
“Then don’t.” His voice tickles its way to my groin and makes it pay attention. I dig my hands in my pockets and answer the only way I can, with a nod.
He leaves me with a chuckle to pack up.
I wonder how he can be so confident, how he doesn’t seem bothered by what we’re doing—about to do—in the slightest. I wish I were more like Luke, able to be so self-assured . . .
“Hey, Mum,” Jeremy says in the distance. “We’re going to Pizza Hut now, and then maybe to a movie or something.”
Carole answers, “You’ll be careful? And home by nine.”
Jeremy nods before running off with barely a ‘see ya.’
I shake my head. “God I hope he’s smarter than I was at his age.” My gaze finds and latches on to Luke again. And smarter than I am right now.