Chapter 10

This was outside of one of the trade shows,

CJ can’t remember where, but things were going good until another

skater whistled at a businesswoman and asked if CJ thought her

skirt could be any shorter. CJ said he didn’t care, it wasn’t his

style, and someone else asked if he was like that.“Yeah,”

CJ said, defensive. “So what?”

“So nothing,” the other skater said,

but every guy who passed, he wanted CJ’s opinion on. “What about

him? Would you do him?” and “I don’t get it. So you don’t like

tits? What gets you going? Dick or ass?”

CJ skated and pretended he didn’t hear the

questions. It was easier that way. “Hey, you know what?” The kid

wouldn’t let up. When CJ came down off the ramp, he shouldered up

to him, leaning close but talking loud enough for his friends to

hear. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like with a guy. Not

getting it up the ass or anything, just maybe sucking off or

something. You do that, right? You’d suck me off?”

The thought repulsed him. “I have a guy,” CJ

said, shoving the jerk away. A few minutes later, Richard came out

of the hotel, spotted him at the ramp, and headed his way. Then the

laughter, and CJ’s whole body flushed with anger. He rammed his

board into the skater’s stomach, smashed the wheels in his face,

hit him again and again, head and arms and chest, until Richard

raced over to pull him off.

He couldn’t stop apologizing after that. They

had to leave the trade show a day early but fortunately the police

weren’t interested in pursuing charges—boys, the officer said after

he heard what had happened. CJ thought maybe he could’ve cared less

about two skaters fighting. All the way home, he stared out the

window at the trees and scenery racing by, every now and then

mumbling, “Sorry.” Richard hated him, hadto, CJ just knew

it.

But after an hour of stony silence, Richard

touched CJ’s thigh. “It’s okay, babe,” he whispered.

In the window, CJ watched his own reflection

shimmer and his chin crumble as his eyes filled with tears. “Rich,

I’m sorry.”

The hand squeezed his thigh, and CJ slipped

his fingers beneath Richard’s. “Come here,” Richard said. When CJ

didn’t move, Richard tugged at his hand, pulling it into his own

lap. “I said come here, Ceej. I’m not going to bite you.”

Reluctantly, CJ turned from the window. Some

days he wonders what he ever did to deserve someone as kind and

loving as Richard. There’s a tiny part of his soul that suspects

it’s all a big mistake and one day Richard will be gone. He isn’t

religious and doesn’t quite believe in God—at least not the one

they used to talk about in church when he was a little boy, a

know-all, see-all being kind of like Santa only not so giving—but

at night when he’s lying in Richard’s arms, he prays to whoever’s

up there listening that he doesn’t lose this. This one,he

thinks as Richard cuddles up behind him. Let me keep this one,

okay? I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’ll get a

job and stop skating if I have to, just let me keep him, please.

Let him be mine.

That day on the road, Richard eased an arm

around CJ’s shoulders and hugged him close. It was awkward in the

car but they managed, Richard steering with one hand while CJ

rested his head on his lover’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said

again.

“Don’t be,” Richard told him. For a

quick second his grip tightened in a strong embrace. CJ imagined

himself folding into Richard’s side like a shirt into a drawer and

he couldn’t think of anything he’d love better than to simply

disappear completely into his guy. “It wasn’t your fault, hon. I

know that.”

How can he not love someone like Richard?

Someone who sees what really happens, who sees him for who he

is—past the skater to the man he might become one day? In front of

Harrison’s grocery, CJ steps up onto his board and waits for a

comment from the other two skaters that never comes. Mick is back

at his jumps again—the first try lands him hard on his butt and

before he can get out of the way, his board flips up to smack him

in the balls. Brendan thinks this is the funniest thing he’s seen

in years. “Damn, Mick! He shows you how to do it and you

stillfuck it up.”

“Shut up,” Mick growls. He glares at CJ

like he’s the one who said something, then hauls himself up from

the concrete. “I know what I’m doing. Stop laughing,

dickwad.”

“You suck,” Brendan laughs. “So

hard, Mick. You don’t even realize it.”

CJ catches the quick glance Mick shoots his

way and can almost hear the thoughts running through the other

skater’s mind. Don’t even,he prays. Today’s going mostly

alright so far. The last thing he needs is a fight right now so he

keeps his mouth shut and watches Mick warily. Don’t… the

word is a mantra in his mind. Don’t you dare.