Chapter Sixteen

The morning brought with it disappointment. Bobby had endured a restless night, feeling rejected, even though his logical mind told him otherwise and that Wade’s saying no to his advances the prior night had everything to do with respect and consideration for Bobby’s own feelings, for the very commonsense move of waiting until they were both ready for a more intimate connection.

Yet his heart told him otherwise. And it was his heart that grieved as he ground coffee beans, filled his coffeemaker with water and the coffee, and set it to brew.

The sky outside reflected his mood. During the night, dark gray clouds that reminded him of Seattle had amassed along the horizon, their nearly black lower edges promising rain by afternoon.

While the coffee brewed, Bobby took Johnny for a quick walk down to the lakefront, where Johnny found one of his favorite companions, a little Boston terrier named Lily. The pair of them playfully made their “downward dog” motions to the other, barking, and getting their owners, Bobby and another middle-aged man, slightly older than Bobby, tangled in the dogs’ leashes.

It was curious to Bobby that he knew Lily’s name but not her owner’s, even though he had seen the pair out walking many times.

When he returned to the condo, Wade was in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar, fully dressed in a pair of jeans, a plaid button-down shirt, and a pair of red suede shoes that looked like Chuck Taylors but were actually Prada. Bobby knew, because the shoes, as was the rest of the ensemble, were his.

Wade had not made the trip back to Wilmette to fetch any of his own clothes. Perhaps they would do that today?

“Good morning!” Bobby called out, more cheerily than he felt, as he stooped to free Johnny from his confines.

“Hey there.”

Bobby poured himself a cup of coffee. “I hope you slept okay?”

“Oh yeah, fine.” Wade sipped his coffee, staring out at the lackluster day, so different from its predecessor.

“Good thing we did the outdoorsy stuff yesterday,” Bobby said. “Looks like it’s going to be a perfect day to be indoors. You’re gonna love the Museum of Science and Industry. Did I mention it’s one of the only buildings left from the big World’s Fair?”

Wade didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he said something that made Bobby’s heart sink. He knew what was coming. “About that.”

“Yes?” Bobby sat down on the stool next to Wade.

“I talked to Sabine last night—”

“Oh, so that’s who I heard you talking to?” The question just slipped out, and Bobby wanted to kick himself for asking it.

Wade ignored it. “And she and her family are coming back from Lake Geneva a little early. She wondered if I wouldn’t come back up and join her and her family for dinner at their country club.”

Bobby snorted. “Sounds fancy.”

Wade ignored this too. “I thought I might like to go.” He looked quickly at Bobby. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Bobby felt as though he might cry and then judged that reaction to be over the top, stifling it. “Of course, anything you want to do.” Bobby had envisioned an entirely different morning for the two of them. He also hoped Wade might ask him to join Sabine and her family at dinner, but no offer was forthcoming. “Anyway, dinner’s later. We still have the day.”

Wade grinned and looked at him sheepishly. “I thought maybe I’d get back up there this morning. If you can’t drive me, I can take the train. There’s a station at North and Clybourn, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Everything’s online.”

“It certainly is.” Bobby thought of the many men he had delivered right to this very condo, simply by going online for a few minutes. He was wondering if he would have one delivered today, to put a little balm on the sting of this latest disappointment. “I can drive you. Don’t be silly.” Just because he hoped to make Wade feel a little bit bad, he added, “I have the whole day free.”

If Wade felt any sting from Bobby’s last remark, he didn’t show it. Instead, he stood and said, “Thanks. This way I can give you your clothes back, although I’m tempted to keep the shoes.” He started toward the hallway. “Don’t worry about breakfast. I’m going to grab a shower.”

Bobby stood. He couldn’t help it. “Wade. Wait.”

Wade turned.

“Is everything okay? We were getting along so well yesterday, and this morning, you’re like a different person.”

Wade stood frozen for several moments, as though he might be pondering how to answer Bobby. Bobby wanted him to say anything other than a denial. He didn’t think he could bear it if Wade simply pretended all was well, when they both knew it wasn’t.

Wade made a turn from the hallway and went to sit on Bobby’s couch. “Come here.” He patted the empty space next to him, and Bobby hurried to take it, sitting close enough so their bodies touched.

Wade stared out at the gray day as he spoke. “Listen, Bobby, yesterday I got a little confused. Things were fun and close and flirty, and I loved that, but I wasn’t expecting it. I really thought we were just starting out on a friendship.”

Bobby swallowed hard, wanting to wince.

Wade looked at him. “But I discovered I liked you, really liked you—and that caused all kinds of mixed emotions in me. See, I don’t know whether I need that right now, not with everything else going on in my life.”

“What else?”

Wade didn’t say anything for a minute or two, his face lost in thought. “Oh, lots. The point is, we talked about taking it slow, which is the real reason I wanted to go back to Wilmette today.”

“So Sabine and her family aren’t even back yet, are they?”

“What? Of course they are—or will be, by this afternoon.” Wade thought for a moment. “I think we both need time. I need time to know you better, to know I can trust you, and trust your feelings, which I suspect are very new. And I need time to know myself better.”

Bobby waited for more of an explanation, but none came.

Wade stood. “Are you sure you don’t mind running me back up north?”

“Not a problem,” Bobby said, his voice gone toneless, dull.

As Wade started away, Bobby asked, “Will I see you again?” Once more, he hated himself for the note of desperation he knew was in his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

Wade smiled. “Sure.”

An idea popped into Bobby’s head, and he latched on to it, like a drowning man grabs a life preserver. “I was thinking of coming to Seattle in a few weeks, while the weather out there is still nice and sunny.” He laughed. “It’s so rare. And I thought my mom would appreciate the visit. She’s been a little lost since my dad passed away.”

Wade nodded, sympathy obvious in his dark eyes. Bobby wondered if his mentioning this trip to Seattle was a manipulative move on his part, especially the part about his mom.

“That would be wonderful, Bobby.” He turned and went back to his room. Bobby listened to the click of the bedroom door closing.

Bobby looked over at Johnny, who had curled himself into the leather chair opposite. “Did you hear him? He said it would be wonderful.”

*

Later that day, after Wade was nothing but a bittersweet memory and a violent but quick thunderstorm had cleared the clouds from the sky, Bobby’s phone rang.

It was Aaron.

Bobby was quick to answer. “Thank God you called,” he blurted out. “I mean, it’s good to hear from you.”

Aaron was leery. “Everything okay? Is he still there?”

“I assume you mean Wade?” Bobby chuckled. “No, he went back to Wilmette this morning. He heads back to Seattle tomorrow, so I probably won’t see him again this visit.”

Aaron let out a sigh. Of relief? Bobby wondered.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I was just rambling around my house today with no plans, and I was hoping you might be around. Maybe we could do something?”

What was that saying? When God closes a door, he opens a window? “That would be great. What did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you come over around five and find out?”

“Okay…”

“See you then.” Aaron hung up, leaving Bobby confused, yet grateful.

*

When Aaron opened the front door to Bobby, Bobby raised his nose to sniff the air spilling out of Aaron’s bungalow. It was like a wall of olfactory heaven—tomatoes, red wine, oregano, garlic, basil, all rode out to him on a cloud.

Aaron grinned. “That look! That’s what I was going for.” He gestured Bobby inside the house, where the smell of tomato sauce simmering was augmented by the comforting jazz of Oscar Peterson’s piano. “Come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

Grinning, Bobby took a seat on the overstuffed distressed-leather couch. It was as though Aaron had somehow read his mind and was offering him just the kind of comfort he needed on this day.

“I just need to give the sauce a stir and make sure it’s at a good simmer, and I’ll be right back.” Aaron headed toward the kitchen. “It’s my mom’s recipe. She was Sicilian. Passed away three years ago. Making this sauce brings her alive for me all over again. Isn’t it funny how food can do that?” Aaron didn’t wait for Bobby’s reply, but continued on into the kitchen. In this house, unlike the great room concepts of so many condos and homes of the twenty-first century, the kitchen was separated from the living room by the dining room. Bobby could see that the table was already laid with what looked like good china and crystal, and the warmth of the room—all the rooms, really—made him feel immediately at home. All the dark wood molding and baseboards, original to the house he was sure, along with the stained glass above the fireplace with its built-in bookshelves, harkened back to a time when people related on a level that was different from how they did today, what with the instant global connections of “places” like Facebook.

Aaron returned, holding a glass of red aloft for Bobby. He handed it to him, looking around on the floor. “You didn’t bring him?”

At first, Bobby thought he meant Wade, and then dismissed the idea. “You mean Johnny? I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Get out of here. I invited you over to see him, not you, you dolt.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Aaron laughed. “Joke. But Johnny is always welcome here. I’ve been thinking about getting a rescue myself.”

They sipped their wine in companionable silence, and Bobby relaxed, the hurt of Wade’s sudden departure being slowly erased by the warm surroundings and the wine. “This is good.”

“A nice Chianti,” Aaron said, echoing Hannibal Lecter.

“I’m glad you had me over.”

“I’m glad you could come.”

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their wine. Bobby took in the wall of bookshelves opposite him, noticing how they were a hodgepodge of art books, hardcovers, and mass-market paperbacks. None of the books was pristine. All looked well-read, with worn spines and faded covers.

“You’re quite the reader.”

“I’m voracious. I like everything from mysteries to biographies to thrillers.” He chuckled. “Even some love stories. I’ve been getting into some gay romance lately. There’s way more out there than you’d imagine, some of it awfully good.” He grinned. “And some of it awfully bad. But you read, you learn how to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“I’ll have to check some out.”

Bobby looked at Aaron and, once again, appreciated how perfectly this man was put together. It didn’t matter that today he was clad only in a pair of old gunmetal-gray sweats and a Big Chicks black T-shirt; he still looked amazing. It didn’t matter that he was almost bald and what hair he had was close-cropped and salt and pepper. The lines around his eyes, deeply etched, told a tale of someone who laughed and smiled a lot. And his body? Well, Bobby didn’t think it would be appropriate to get started on that. But Aaron was lean in all the right places with just a hint of a pot belly, which, rather than detracting, only made him sexier.

If only you weren’t my SAA sponsor… But wait, where is your mind going, young man? I thought you were all about Wade. I am, I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what’s in front of me.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Aaron nudged Bobby’s shoulder. Hard. He almost spilled his wine.

Bobby reacted quickly, not wanting to confess what he’d really been thinking. “Those romances you were talking about. Who are some of the more popular guys?”

“You mean authors? That’s the funny thing. Most of them are women, and straight women, from what I hear.” Aaron got up and brought back a paperback. “Try this one. I guarantee you’ll be hooked.”

Bobby looked down. The book was called Mongrel by an author who had the gender-neutral name of K.Z. Snow. Bobby looked up from the book’s cover.

“It’s steampunk. I can’t explain it, so don’t ask. But just read a little of it, and you’ll get lost in this woman’s world, the writer’s, I mean. It’s a whole new universe, fascinating and touching all at once. Pure escapism.”

Bobby said, “Just what I need.”

“And I need to put the water on to boil. Hungry?”

“Always. Ravenous.” And to Bobby’s surprise, he was.

*

Over dinner, Bobby decided to open up and tell Aaron the truth about Wade, about his feelings. He told him the whole story, starting with when Wade had seen him at the bathhouse in Seattle. He felt comfortable revealing this sordid episode to Aaron, who seemed unfazed by it. After he had described the events in the gloom and grit of the bathhouse, he looked up at the man over the rim of his wineglass, searching for judgment or condemnation in his eyes, and found none. Aaron merely waited for him to go on. Bobby told him the rest, wrapping things up by describing his disappointment of earlier that morning. “I really thought things were going well,” Bobby said.

“And who says they weren’t?”

“What?”

“Why are you casting everything in a negative light? So the guy needed some space. So what? That doesn’t mean he was rejecting you. It doesn’t mean he never wants to see you again.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Aaron waved a hand at him. “Ah, you’re just agreeing with me to get me to shut up. As Judge Judy’s always saying—and yes, she’s a guilty pleasure—put on your listening ears.”

“Okay, okay.” Bobby realized he was right. He wasn’t really listening. He was just going along, clinging to his own gloom and doom. He didn’t understand why.

“I think you believe, and I know this because I thought that way myself once upon a time, that if things don’t end up immediately in bed with a guy for whom you have feelings, then there must be something wrong. But, Bobby, listen—there are lots and lots of people out there, some of whom have been couples for years, straight, gay, what have you, who took their courtship a little slower, who got to know each other before hopping into bed together.

“And I’m here to tell you, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Sometimes, anticipation can make everything that much hotter.”

Bobby laughed. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly ever anticipated. I was always shoot first and ask questions later. Like, what’s your name?” He was laughing, but at the same time, wondering what was wrong with him.

“Just because this guy, this Wayne, wants a little time might mean just the opposite of what’s got you so down. Maybe he sees you as someone special and, for that reason, doesn’t want to rush into things. Did that ever cross your mind?”

“Not really. I guess I’m just a hippie love child at heart. You know: if it feels good, do it.” Bobby didn’t bother to correct Aaron again on mispronouncing Wade’s name.

“And where has that gotten you?”

Aaron’s question hung above the dinner table, waiting for a response Bobby wasn’t willing to give, at least not yet. Aaron saved him from the uncomfortable silence by saying, “Just think about things, man. Give him time. Give yourself time.”

“Time. I guess I never felt I had enough of it.” Bobby cocked his head. “I’m forty. I don’t know how forty got here this quick.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m worried I’ll be sixty just as quick, and still no one will love me and no one ever will.”

Aaron made a “tsk” sound. “Christ, Bobby, that prophecy will come true if you keep feeling sorry for yourself like that.”

Bobby stared down at the table, ashamed. He knew what he admired in Wade, in Aaron, in other men—confidence. Strength. He thought of the men he had been attracted to, and the ones that were most attractive were often not the best-looking ones, but the ones who seemed the most comfortable in their own skins. The ones who seemed to be saying, with their body language, with the way they handled themselves, the way they just had of being, take me or leave me.

Bobby wondered if he had ever exuded that kind of confidence, or if he had simply relied on his looks for far too long. Forty these days was not that old, but it was no longer young. He couldn’t trade on those looks forever, not when there was a whole new crop of twentysomethings and thirtysomethings edging him out of the race.

“You’re right,” Bobby said softly. “I’ll have to work on that.”

Aaron sighed. “I didn’t mean to chew you out. I just want you to take a look at the man in the mirror, as my buddy Michael Jackson once sang. And I don’t want you to look at how pretty that guy is, how sexy, how well put together, although you’re all those things, and damn it, in spades. But look at what’s beneath that gorgeous surface. You might be surprised.” Aaron was staring across the table at him, and Bobby could swear—and this was not conceit—there was a kind of hunger in his eyes, a tenderness, too, and Bobby wondered if Aaron saw beneath the surface and what he saw there.

“Thanks,” Bobby said softly. He then looked up at Aaron, wanting to break this serious spell, this moment of self-examination that felt like being exposed to too bright a light. “What’s for dessert?”

Aaron chuckled. “Knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t ask that question first.”

Bobby got it. He grinned and wagged a warning finger at Aaron.

“Can’t you tell? Sniff.”

Bobby had noticed a smell in the air, almost pungent, beneath the smells of the garlic, herbs, and tomatoes in the spaghetti sauce—the smell of licorice.

“It’s anise. I made pizzelles.”

Bobby shook his head.

“They’re thin little Italian waffle cookies, and they’re delicious with a nice little cup of espresso, which I’m going to make for you right now.”

Bobby watched Aaron disappear into the kitchen. He couldn’t keep his eyes from focusing, for a moment, on the easy rise and fall of his ass, which was firm and high, but he also noticed how comfortable he felt, how at home.

He leaned back in his chair and again thought of that saying, how when God closes a door, he opens a window.

*

Bobby didn’t see Aaron again until Wednesday night’s meeting, and the pair didn’t have much of a chance to talk then because Aaron had to hurry home after the meeting.

“No coffee? I was hoping we could talk,” Bobby had said to him outside the church where they had met.

“Can’t tonight, Bobby. I’ve got someone waiting at home for me.”

Bobby had been surprised at how much Aaron’s simple admission stung. Why? He had no claims—other than friendship—on the man. He was interested in Wade, or Wayne, as Aaron liked to call him, anyway. Right?

“Oh, I see,” Bobby had mumbled.

Aaron burst out laughing. “I don’t think you do. See, I missed you bringing Johnny over so much on Sunday that on Monday I went down to the animal shelter and got myself a dog. I’ve been meaning to do it for a long time. She’s a sweet little mutt, just under a year old, coarse black fur, pointy ears, and these almost amber-colored eyes that are so expressive. Kind of looks like Toto from The Wizard of Oz. You’ll have to meet her. Johnny will have to meet her—he’s gonna fall in love. I called her Frieda. I don’t know why. The name just seemed to fit.” Aaron moved toward the L stop at Davis. “We can take the L south together if you want.”

“I want.”

“And on the ride there, we can make plans for Johnny and Frieda’s first date this Saturday. I mean, if he’s available. I was thinking forest preserve.”

“I’ll check with him when I get home and let you know.”

And so now, Bobby found himself doing something he never thought he’d do, even as recently as six months ago: walking along a trail in a forest preserve in one of the city’s western suburbs with a handsome man and two very playful dogs.

Upon meeting Frieda, Johnny immediately tried to mount her.

Aaron barked out his own laugh. “Just like his old man!”

Bobby yanked at the leash. “Johnny! Manners!” But he needn’t have, because Frieda proved herself a strong, independent woman, and she turned and snapped at him. “What you deserve,” Bobby said to Johnny.

It took only a moment or two for the dogs to begin playing together like old friends, Johnny’s initial play of sexual dominance quickly forgotten. If only human relationships could be so easy.

The day was magical, in spite of the heat, the mosquitoes, and the persistent drone of traffic whizzing by on the expressway a mile over from the preserve. Bobby felt alone with Aaron and the dogs and contrasted what he might have been doing on a summer Saturday a year ago at this time. He might have been at the gay beach, wearing either a thong, if he was feeling really daring and slutty, or a pair of board shorts that showed off his abs to good advantage, on the lookout for the tannest, most muscular guy on the beach, whom he would always somehow charm into coming back to his place with him. They would have sex, fireworks maybe, or more likely a lot of buildup to a few minutes of frantic coupling.

And then he would never hear from the guy again.

Or, if it was raining, Bobby would be online, on Manhunt or Adam4Adam, fielding offers to party, offers to fist, offers for vanilla sex, but never anything deeper than that. This scenario would often end up much as the beach one, with the same result of feeling like he had eaten a meal, yet still was hungry.

Now he understood why.

He watched Aaron as he bent down to pet Frieda’s sweet little face and thought what a good man he was, what a good friend. After the debacle with Caden, he thought he’d never have anyone in his life he could again call friend. And yet, here he was, delivered like a gift.

Aaron came up to him, surprising him, Bobby was so lost in thought. “This city boy needs to get back to buildings and concrete. What do you say we take the dogs to the beach?”

*

They next found themselves at the beach at the end of Touhy Avenue, in Aaron’s Rogers Park neighborhood. Because the day was so warm, the beach was crowded with sunbathers and swimmers and the grass bordering it thick with people having picnics, people who had pitched tents and set up portable grills, the smoke of charcoal in the air. Music blared from portable players, and the cries in the humid summer air were raucous. Vendors with aluminum carts sold Mexican corn on the cob and frozen treats.

Even though dogs were technically not allowed on the beach, Aaron and Bobby had managed to creep by the lifeguards’ eyes to take Frieda and Johnny out on the breakwater that jutted into Lake Michigan’s silver-blue waters. The breakwater, a concrete pier of sorts, was peopled with fishermen and others, just strolling out for a glimpse of the skyline south of the beach.

Bobby had gotten into some heavy wrestling with Johnny and was laughing heartily as the dog playfully nipped at his hand, wriggling away, and then coming back for more tickling.

He was so absorbed in his play with the dog, he almost didn’t notice the shadow that fell across them. And when he did notice, he just assumed it was Aaron.

But it wasn’t.

It was Caden.

He looked up, squinting into the sun, and Caden, to him, appeared like some sort of mirage, as though Bobby’s eyes were deceiving him. Even though Caden’s face was in shadow, Bobby could tell he was smiling.

A smile from Caden? Bobby’s heart gave a little leap, and he blurted, “Caden?”

“You remembered.” He squatted down next to the pair of them and scratched Johnny behind a pointed ear. Johnny eagerly sniffed him. “Who’s this little guy?”

“This is Johnny. Johnny, meet Caden, an old friend.”

Caden sat down on the concrete next to them. Without any more preamble than what had just occurred, he said, “I’ve been thinking about giving you a call. Sort of on the fence about it.”

“Oh?” Bobby looked over at him, knowing his expression probably revealed both fear and hope. Aaron hovered nearby, but soon called to Frieda and walked to the other end of the pier.

“Yeah. After I got your letter. I have to admit, it did touch me, and it crossed my mind that I might be holding onto a grudge a little too long.”

Bobby smiled, but before he could say anything, Caden continued.

“But I still wasn’t sure. Eternal damnation, as far as I was concerned, was too good for the likes of you.”

Bobby sighed. Is that what this was about? Another chance to berate him? He was tired of it. But he felt he deserved it, and if it made Caden feel better, well then, he should have at it.

“Kevin read your letter too. You know what he told me? Him. The one you really almost hurt the most, Bobby. He said it was time to forgive you.”

Bobby gazed out at the water, suddenly feeling chilled in spite of the heat.

“I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.”

They were silent for a long time. Finally, it was Caden who spoke again, because Bobby had no words.

“I didn’t know until just a few minutes ago, when I saw you out here with that dog. I thought if any guy can love a creature that hopeless-looking—and I’m sorry, Bobby, but that little guy is a poster boy for so ugly he’s cute—I thought if that man can love a dog like that and be as into it as you obviously are, well, that guy can’t be all bad.

“Seeing you with Johnny here pushed me over the edge. It made me remember that somewhere inside that buff, exfoliated, and tanned exterior a heart was buried. It made me see why, once upon a time, you and I were friends. Good friends.

“I remembered what you wrote to me, the sincerity and hope in that letter, and I knew how hard it must have been for someone like you to write those words, and I thought, actually just now, that you must have changed.

“Because even if you do have a heart, which I acknowledge, you still had a lot of growing to do. I saw evidence of growth today.”

Bobby felt a mixture of emotions, mostly relief, colored by joy. Was this a new beginning? Or was Caden merely preparing him for the news that he was forgiven, only to follow it up by saying something like “But you do understand—we can never be friends again.”

But that’s not what Caden said. “So, I thought I’d come over and just tell you, friend, that I forgive you. You pulled some real bonehead shit that’s mostly unforgivable, but I saw before me today a guy who may have learned something. I think I knew that when I read your letter, but I just needed to see your heart in action—and today, the universe provided me that opportunity.”

Bobby looked away, out at the water once more, eyes bright with tears. He sniffed quickly and forced the waterworks away. When he turned back to Caden, he was all smiles. “Thank you. You don’t have any idea how much this means to me.”

Caden stood up. “Hug?”

“Of course.” Bobby stood, too, and felt the warmth of Caden’s arms encircle him. He squeezed Caden to him, not caring who saw, and oblivious to Johnny’s frantic yelps and jumps on his leg, desperate to get in on the action.

Bobby closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of Caden’s embrace, the feel of their bodies pressed together, marveling that he did not feel this was a sexual moment, but a moment born of the heart and maybe even the soul.

He had loved Caden so much, loved him still, and the fact that he had lost him had been a kind of hell for Bobby. This moment was akin to being lifted out of the pits.

Caden whispered in his ear, after the hug had gone on perhaps just a shade too long. “Hey. Your boyfriend’s gonna get jealous.”

At first Bobby thought he was referring to Johnny, but then he realized the truth—he meant Aaron. He pulled away and looked down the pier to see Aaron and Frieda, whom Aaron had rolled over on her back and was scratching away, much to the dog’s delight.

Surprisingly, Aaron was chatting with another man, a beefy blond with a beard. Kevin. This was all a dream, right?

“Oh, he’s just a friend,” Bobby explained. He didn’t say anymore, but hoped there would be time, sometime soon, to tell Caden all about how Aaron had come into his life.

Caden laughed and started back toward them. “Well, I gotta admit, Bobby, you two sure looked like a couple. Anyone could see that. The way that man looks at you…” He winked. “And a very hot couple.”

Bobby felt heat rise to his cheeks. “Thanks. But, as I said, just buddies.”

Caden nudged him. “Really? Nothing more? You and a hot guy like that? Come on!”

And Bobby grinned because he knew the truth. And knew he had changed.

Caden said, “Let’s go join them. I’m sure you want to say hi to Kevin.”

Bobby felt a cold fear grip him in the gut, almost like a cramp. “Are you sure? Doesn’t he hate me?”

Caden shook his head. “He forgave you a long time ago. He’s a better man than I am. I’ve learned a lot from living with him.” Caden peered at Bobby. “It will be fine. It will all be fine.”

And as the two of them walked toward the other two men, both of them stood, smiling. It would be fine.

It really would.