We went to the kitchen and opened the food containers.
“Where’s your sauce?” Jeremy asked.
“He’s a professional athlete. He eats healthy shit,” West replied.
“Sucks for you,” Jeremy told me.
It was hard to stamp down the feelings flooding my chest. When I’d opened the door, called West baby , and saw someone else standing there, I’d nearly lost it. I’d wanted to run, to lie and try to make an excuse, to say it wasn’t what it looked like, but I knew there was no way around it.
Then, when West found me in the laundry room, I was skittish…upset, but mixed in with that had been guilt. This was West’s best friend. West and I were in love. I hated asking him to hide for me, hated that I’d wanted to deny him. If I couldn’t do this around the most important person to West, how would we ever last?
But now, just a few minutes later, Jeremy was joking with me about how I ate. He’d told me we stick together—we, as in people like me, like him. It was one thing coming from West, but hearing it from someone else was the first time in my life I’d felt part of a community. Well, other than football. And maybe, just maybe, I needed that.
West grabbed drinks from the fridge—beers for himself and Jeremy, water for me.
The second we were at the table, digging into our food, Jeremy asked, “So how in the hell did you find this guy?” Realization hit him then. “The football game? I did this?”
West laughed. “You don’t get credit for him, fucker. I scored my man all by myself.”
They teased each other back and forth, and I just sat there, watching them. I’d never gotten to see this side of West. We were only ever on the phone, or when we were together, it was just us. It was nice to see him interact with Jeremy. It made him real in a whole new way for me, and I wondered…wondered if he needed that from me too. And if he didn’t now, when he would.
“He sat next to me at a hotel bar,” I finally said. “He started talking to me.”
“Because who wouldn’t?” Jeremy said, and West swatted him. “Shit. Sorry. I can’t help it. He’s gorgeous.”
“I didn’t know who he was, obviously. I just saw a beautiful man and, well, you know how it is.”
They laughed. This was a thing they did often, I realized—talking about men. Jealousy poked at me.
“I asked him to leave with me. He turned me down, but like Cinderella, left his glasses behind.”
“I was freaked out that he knew. No one had ever— Like I said, no one knows.”
“Ever?” Jeremy asked.
When I shook my head, a wave of sadness washed over him. Fuck, I hated being pitied.
West jumped in. “It wasn’t until we were at the game and they announced his first name that I discovered who he was. His name is unique. When I looked up and saw his face on the screen, I nearly lost my shit.”
“I fucking bet. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that this is happening,” Jeremy replied.
“I reached out to him about his sunglasses, and we started talking.”
“Now your sudden obsession with football makes sense and…his fucking jersey. He wears that thing around here like it’s his most prized possession. You, my friend, have West whipped—oh look, it even sounds good together. West Whipped. Whipped West.”
“Fuck you, Jeremy. Jeremy, fuck you.”
“I knew something was going on with him,” Jeremy went on, unfazed. “He rarely goes out. I haven’t seen him with a guy in months. Hell, I was horny and asked him to fuck, and he turned me down.”
Jeremy said it like it were no big deal, and to him, it probably wasn’t, but my heart dropped, falling down to my feet somewhere. “You guys have… I thought you were in a relationship?”
Jeremy’s eyes widened, and he bit his lip as if he wished he could take the words back.
“Jeremy and Bobby have an agreement. They have rules they both abide by, and it has to be with people they both trust, but they’re allowed to have sex with other men, and yes, Jeremy and I have done that, but we haven’t for a very long time, and we won’t again.”
“I’m sorry. I have a habit of sticking my foot in my mouth,” Jeremy added.
“No, it’s fine. I can’t control what’s already happened, and I trust West.” But it did make me wonder if that was the kind of relationship he would want with me. Would West want to fuck other men? Especially considering we wouldn’t be able to see each other often.
I wasn’t sure that was something I could handle.
West leaned closer and kissed my forehead. I pulled back instinctively, and saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. I didn’t know if it was because he thought I didn’t want him to show affection in front of Jeremy, and maybe that was partly the reason. At this point, though, that ship had sailed, since Jeremy knew. I just… I hated how inexperienced I was, hated that West felt he had to coddle me like I was weak and he had to protect me.
Jeremy changed the subject after that. I really did like him. He was funny and gave West shit. He was smart and loved football. I could talk to him about it in a way I didn’t with West, and Jeremy got it.
It felt good, someone knowing, like it cemented us, made us real, made me real. There was another person in the world who knew I was gay.
Still, as much as I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about West and Jeremy together, about them having sex when Jeremy had a husband, and thinking about what that might mean for West and me.
Christ, we really had jumped into this without talking about some really important things.
We didn’t bring it up until Jeremy was gone and West and I were in bed.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, Bashful, or am I supposed to guess?”
I reached over and turned on the lamp on my side of the bed. “I don’t know if I can do that,” I said. “We never talked about this stuff, but I don’t think I can be in a relationship with someone who has sex with other people.”
His stare turned hard, almost icy, in a way I’d never seen West look at me. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ans. I appreciate the faith you have in me. Did I ask you for that? Have I done or said anything that makes you think I want to fuck other guys?”
“Hey, don’t bite my head off when I’m being honest with you. Would you rather I lied? This is new for me. I’ve never been in a relationship before. I’ve never loved someone.”
“Neither have I!” he countered, his voice raised. “Fuck. Sorry.”
We were both sitting up in bed now, West with his head against the headboard, looking up. “I’m extra sensitive about this because of my father. Yes, I like sex. Yes, I’ve had a lot of it, and yes, I’ve fucked Jeremy—both with Bobby and without. Jeremy and Bobby’s relationship works well for them, but that doesn’t mean it’s the kind of relationship I want or expect to have with you. One of the things my father likes to throw in my face is my sex life—or what a lot of people assume to be the sex lives of gay men. We can’t commit. We can’t be satisfied with one person. I can’t tell you how many times he’s hurled that at me, told me how wrong it is, but the truth is, I don’t think it’s wrong. I don’t think there’s anything inappropriate about me having had sex with Jeremy as long as his husband was okay with it. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them having sex with other people if it works for them. Who am I to say how other people should live? But that doesn’t mean that’s what I’d expect for us.” He looked at me then, his eyes filled with concern and hurt. “Don’t you think I know you better than that?”
“You know me better than anyone in this world,” I answered. He knew me in ways no one ever had or ever would. “I have a question, though. I don’t want you to take offense because I don’t mean it that way, but it’s important, and I need to know.” West nodded, and I continued. “You said, don’t you think I know you better than that , so is that something you would want with me? Are you only saying no because you know I’d prefer not to? Because…because you’re already giving up a lot to be with me, and if you needed it, I could…I could try to deal.”
He cocked his head, the corners of his mouth curling down. “Oh, Bashful, what am I going to do with you? Don’t ever take less than you want just to please someone else—not me, not anyone —and honestly? I haven’t wanted anyone but you since we met. Even before we had this, you were the one I wanted. The guy I went home with after that one party…I wanted him to be you, and the thought of you with someone else makes me feel murderous, so no, I’m not accepting exclusivity for you. I need it because you’re mine.”
“You’re mine too,” I admitted. I climbed over West’s lap, straddled him, held his face in my hands, and kissed him possessively.
He returned the kiss, hard and hungry. We were both in nothing but our underwear. I rose off him, and he lifted his hips for me to tug his down. It wasn’t working, and we were laughing, so I finally rolled off him, got rid of my boxer briefs, and tossed them to the floor, just as West did the same. I climbed over him again, one leg on either side of him, taking his mouth, pushing my tongue in deep so he could feel how much I needed him.
West’s hands wrapped around our erections, stroking us together, cock against cock as I kissed him, rode his lap, and thrust into his hold. We didn’t last long, both of us crying out together, painting West’s stomach and chest with our loads.
I fell against him. West kissed my temple, my cheek, my lips. This was going to be so fucking hard. It already was, but there was nothing I wanted more.
“I love you,” I told him.
“I love you too.”