Double Up Page 11

  And he walks away from me, leaving me hard and gasping and soaring.

  I read the script on autopilot. I’m rattled. I’m a hot mess and then some. I’m flying. “Each rider gets one jump, uh, and one jump only. There are two prizes in this event, one for biggest air, and the other for the best … the best trick.”

  “Ben, you swept the tournament and the double-up contest three years running back in the late nineties. Can you predict the outcome of this event?”

  I shake my head at Amber, and she points at the script.

  “The beauty of a double-up contest is that it’s anyone’s guess. One of the pros could win—or a newcomer to the sport. It’s all about the air.”

  There’s a palpable excitement among the crowd as they wait for the contest to begin. The mood is fed by the potential for big air, dramatic tricks, and huge crashes—I should know, I’ve been the spectacle they all hope to see. The competitors line up on the dock, waving to the spectators and chatting with each other. Dave and Ridley huddle together, obviously deep in conversation. I glance up at the audience and see Rodney glaring down at them. Uh-oh.

  Colby Elkins takes the first jump and goes straight into a whirlybird. His air is respectable, but not huge. The goateed guy from the beginner class crashes an attempt at a three sixty, but he’s smiling as he comes out of the water. Ridley and Garrett both get huge air with their inverts, but no matter how impressive the pros are, it’s Dave I’m eager to see.

  He waves at me once as he takes the handle, then focuses all his attention on the wake. His shoulders are a little stiff, his knees not bent quite as deep as they could be, but he maneuvers the rope with confidence—loading plenty of tension on the line and heading straight for the double-up. He doesn’t get the biggest launch off the water, but his execution of the Raley is flawless, making me grin and gasp to see him soaring.

  In the end, it’s determined that Garrett Schafly got the biggest air by half a foot. When I announce it into the mic, he hugs Ridley and the two of them laugh together.

  “And best trick goes to Ridley Romeo for his Double-Half-Cab Roll.”

  More cheering from the crowd as Ridley and Dave hug hard.

  The award ceremony is held at sunset, with Amber presenting the medals as I announce them. When she presents Ridley with his medal and the prize check, she takes off the lopsided tiara and puts it on his head, kissing his cheek. The kid blushes to the roots of his hair, something else that clearly runs in the family.

  We pose for photos with the winners, and finally, finally, I’m free to go find Dave.

  He’s waiting behind the announcer booth where he’d kissed me before, but he isn’t alone.

  Rodney Romeo has his fists in Dave’s shirt, and Dave’s mother is standing there, not even trying to stop her husband. Every hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

  “… Exposing him to sexual deviants like Edward Russell, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Oh, fuck that.

  “Hey!” I shout, pulling Rodney by the shoulder. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  “This is a family matter.” Rodney glares at me.

  “Well, I’m his family, so get the fuck away from him.” I shove him back from Dave.

  “Family.” Rodney sneers. “You aren’t family.”

  “We’re family, Eddie’s family, and Ridley is my family too,” Dave says quietly. “And he doesn’t share your opinions—” he turns to face his mother “—so unless you want to alienate both your sons, I’d suggest you keep them to yourself. Come on, Ben.” Dave gently tugs my hand away from Rodney’s arm. “We’re leaving.”

  I look back over my shoulder to see Ridley approaching his parents, still wearing Amber’s tiara, but most of the happiness having seeped out of his expression.

  “He can handle them,” Dave reassures me, and I turn back to him. There’s warmth in his expression, but wariness too.

  And I’m wary as well, because really, what have we resolved between us? I want him in my life—but I don’t know what kind of life I can promise him. I’m still undecided on all things surgical, and I don’t even want to think about what it’ll mean to stop riding. If I stop riding, who am I then? What kind of partner can I be to him?

  “Will you come home with me? Or do you want to go get dinner? I think I owe you an apology.”

  What? “No. You don’t, Dave. You don’t owe me anything.”

  He stops to take my face between his hands again and gives me a fierce, hard kiss. “Yes, I do. Come home with me and hear me out?”

  end up driving to his house while he takes his boat home. For a moment, it’s the stranger’s house that it was the first time I saw it, a symbol of everything I once thought wakeboarding would bring me. Then something in me shifts, and it’s home, his home, but I feel like I’m home too.

  It’s no surprise to find him already showered and dressed by the time I get there—he didn’t have to deal with the parking lot by the waterfront.

  “Hi.” He greets me at the door, opening it wide for me to walk past him. I don’t know what to say, so I stand, awkward, in the entryway until he takes my hand and leads me to the couch. As soon as I’m seated, he starts pacing around.

  “Ben, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

  I stare at him, helpless against the sincerity in his voice, but confused as fuck too. He’s not blushing, not at all, and I’m so used to those little signals from his face and body. “I don’t know why you’re apologizing,” I admit, swallowing the little bit of pride I have left—and a whole lot of hurt along with it—to say, “You’re going to have to explain like I’m stupid, because I don’t want to fuck up this conversation too.”

  He closes his eyes and winces.

  “I panicked. When you were hurt that day, all I could see was your stubbornness getting in the way of the life I wanted with you. There was this terrible future that you couldn’t even think about, that you said you wouldn’t want for me. But you risked making it a reality every time we rode.”

  “That was my risk to take,” I point out. It probably sounds petulant, but I’ve had enough of being treated like I can’t make my own decisions.

  “You’re right. It was. And I understand why you do—did.”

  He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “It wasn’t until Eddie told me about the appointment you had on Wednesday that I realized exactly what your choices were. And it should have been me there with you, not Eddie.”

  “Dave—”

  “No, hear me out.”

  I force myself to meet his gaze, but as soon as I make eye contact, he breaks it and paces away again. I’ve never seen him so nervous. God, if he’d just stand still and let me look at him.

  “I should have put you first, and I didn’t. You told me about your addiction because you wanted a life with me. Then when you crashed and I found out about the surgery, I didn’t care how much you had shared with me already. I was just hurt because you hadn’t shared everything, and that wasn’t fair to you.”

  I nod, relieved to finally know what’s going on in his head. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t trying to keep you out.”

  Dave smiles, but sobers quickly. “I want you to know, whatever you decide, whether to pursue surgery or not, whether to keep riding or not, I want to be with you. I want to face it all with you, even if that means we have to struggle through a relapse or you lose mobility, or any one of the things that scare us both. I love you, Ben.”

  God, how is a guy supposed to breathe with a lump like this in his throat? My hands shake as I reach for him.

  “I love you too.” I tug him onto my lap, wanting to pull him as close to my heart as possible. Having a second chance is more than I hoped for. I had thought second chances were fragile things, but having all this trust laid out between us feels strong—maybe even stronger than before because there aren’t any secrets left.“I love you, and I’m so sorry I scared you.”

  “You’re f
orgiven. I forgave you for that weeks ago.”

  “Okay. I hate to bring it up now, but help me understand, because I don’t want us to have any more old hurts between us. If you’d already forgiven me, why did you tell me not to call you again?”

  “Because I’m a stubborn bastard too, okay? I might have forgiven you, but I still didn’t understand. And I couldn’t live with a guy without any hope. I didn’t get it. I really thought you were just taking this reliving-the-glory-days thing too far.”

  There it is again. I nod; I know that’s what it looks like to other people. That I refuse to grow up, that I work for Eddie because it’s easy and I avoid doing anything important. And I can see why he wouldn’t want to be with someone like that.

  “What changed your mind? Because if that’s how you see me, I don’t know that we won’t keep having this fight.” It hurts to say, because it feels like pushing away when all I want is to hold him tightly and never let go.

  Now, he blushes. “Eddie told me about everything, including, by the way, how he considers your sexual incompatibility the ‘great tragedy of his existence.’” Dave rolls his eyes and makes air quotes as he says it. “He made me see that there’s this super-earnest guy hiding inside you. And he told me the only thing you ever believed you were good at was riding wake.”

  “I’ve ruined that for myself now, between the drugs and postponing the surgery. If I ever ride again, it won’t be like it was.” The loss isn’t as sharp now, but it’s always there.

  He shakes his head. “It’s not true though. I don’t know how anyone as self-aware as you can have a blind spot that big. Your self-esteem— Ben, you have to see you’re so much more than the sport.”

  I nod. “I’m willing to work on it.”

  “When Eddie told me what your doctor said, and I put it in that context, it made me realize your having or not having the surgery isn’t something you’re doing to us. It’s something you’ll decide for you, and my job is to support you, not to tell you what to do.”

  “You get it.” I kiss his chin. “You get it just fine. I don’t know about earnest. It’s a fussy word for just trying to be myself.”

  “But you need to see your whole self, Ben. You need to see the guy Eddie sees. And I really, really hope someday you’ll see the guy I see. Because I love that guy, so much. And you would really love him too.”

  I feel a sting behind my nose. Oh, fuck. Crying, really?

  “I see him when I’m with you,” I say. “But you’re not the only good thing in my life, you cocky fuck.”

  His lips quirk up in a smile. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear it. Tell me how awesome your life is. Lay it on me.”

  “There’s Eddie.” I start ticking them off on my fingers. “And Tina, and that crazy-ass little dog of hers. There’s the bisexual beauty queen I rescued from an evil hair and makeup artist today. There’s kids like Ridley, who look up to me because I matter to the sport. Because I’m history, and history matters. And—this one? This one’s pretty fucking big—before today, I’d never met your stepdad. So, you know, I had that going for me.”

  He laughs. “You’re right, that’s all pretty hot stuff.”

  “Yeah. So I know what you were saying before, but I like this life of ours. And I want to share it.” I finish up my speech by kissing him. I really lay a good one on him, just like he said, and it goes on, and on, and on.

  “Will you move in with me?” He strokes his thumb along the back of my hand as he asks, that gentle touch making the question feel tentative.

  I want this. I want this more than anything—for us to make a home together. To be family for real. But I need to know it’s for the right reasons.

  I press my forehead to his and close my eyes while I catch my breath. Then: “Why?”

  “Because I love you. And I want to take care of you. And if you have to stop riding, then you’re gonna need a new hobby, something you really excel at. I think blowjobs on a bearskin rug might work.”

  Yeah, they might at that.

  Then I realize he’s kinda joking about the blowjobs.

  “You could help Ridley: you know the pro circuit. He could help out in the shop. We can be family. If you want, we’ll take it one day at a time, but I’d really like those days to start and end together.”

  Together. I like the sound of that.

  “Mm-hmm. On one condition.”

  “Yes, you can fill the wine fridge with energy drinks.” He rolls his eyes.

  I pretend to ponder that for a moment. “Nice, but I was going to say, ‘If you take me to bed right now.’”

  “Deal.”

  He doesn’t take me to bed right away. We make out on the couch until I’m the hardest I’ve ever been in my life. Then I tell him I need a shower.

  “I don’t mind you all sweaty and smelling like sunscreen.” He fists my cock in his hand, jacking me slowly. He does this thing with his hand, where he lets off the pressure and then tightens and twists at the head. It’s a little rough, but it makes me fly.

  “I-I mind.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.” He gives me one last squeeze.

  I have never been as clean as I am when I step out of the shower. I’ve scrubbed and rinsed everywhere, and my skin is shiny and pink from the steam. I dry off and then hang up the towel, ready to go ask Dave to top me.

  I find him stretched out in bed, working his cock lazily with one freckled hand. He smiles up at me, all dimples and blushes.

  “Come here,” he demands, and I go.

  “There is something incredibly sexy about being ordered around by a guy who blushes when he does it,” I whisper as I move into his kiss.

  “Mmm.” He drops his cock and brings his hands up to my chest, twisting and pulling my nipples. The sensation sends sparks of heat into my balls.

  “Oh God.” I grind against him, burying my face in his neck. “Dave, I want you to top me.”

  “I always top you,” he murmurs, twisting my nipples harder.

  “No, I mean I want you to top me. Fuck me.”

  He sits back. “I thought you didn’t like that?”

  Now I’m the one blushing. “I’ve only ever done it once. And it wasn’t a good experience. I love you, and I want … I trust you.”

  “Ben, when you did it before, did you come?”

  I shake my head, my cheeks heating at the memory. Wanting something and not knowing what to ask for. Feeling bad about losing my boner, even though I knew it could happen. Worst of all was discovering the guy I was with didn’t give a fuck whether I got off. “Not during. Not after. It was … humiliating. And it hurt.”

  “I can’t promise it won’t hurt. You know that. But I won’t humiliate you. And I promise I’ll make you come.”

  Oh God. I meant this as an act of trust, a sort of gift to him, but he’s turning it around, turning it into something for me, and, oh God, I wasn’t expecting that.

  He kisses me first, a lazy exploration of my mouth, and then he rolls me onto my belly. “Just relax and let me make you feel good, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He trails his hands down my back, pushes my legs apart, and places a pillow under my hips. I tense up slightly as he moves around behind me, but relax again when he kneads my ass in both hands.

  “You’re so strong. Every muscle in your body is strong. But these are my favorites. My God, you have a glorious ass.” He squeezes and my body warms from the inside out, flushed with pride that I please him.

  He spreads my cheeks and teases my hole with a fingertip. “The first time we had phone sex, I believe I promised to rim you to oblivion. Do you want that, Ben?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I groan, burying my face.

  “Dirty,” he teases; he knows that gets me hot. Now he’s letting go of my ass and I hear the drawer by the bed opening. “Show me. Spread yourself for me.”

  Ohmygawd.

  I reach behind myself, spreading my cheeks for him. He makes a low sound of approval and then I feel a wh
isper of breath against my hole. I shudder as one of his hands pushes my shoulders down against the bed, and the other works underneath me to grab my cock. I lift my ass higher to give access.

  Was he waiting for this? For me to press my ass into his face? He circles me with his tongue, licking, laving, but not penetrating. All the while, his hand is squeezing, stroking.

  My skin feels tight all over but my muscles seem to loosen, wobbling in surrender as he prods gently with his tongue. He goes to work for real then, nudging me, pressing just inside, making me relax and shudder against him until I’m humping into his hand and back to his tongue, trying to get a build of friction everywhere.

  He slides his other hand from my shoulders down my spine, and then it disappears. It’s gone just long enough for me to miss it, to suddenly find it real fucking hard to lay still. When it returns, his fingers are slick and one is pushing in next to his tongue. I spread my legs wider, trying to open myself. His finger slips inside and massages, touching a spot that makes fireworks go off in there.

  His finger and his tongue take turns penetrating me until I’m relaxed and loose and riding back into them, then it’s two fingers slick and rubbing over my gland over and over, until I’m mindless, the rush of orgasm starting to flood me.

  “Wait!”

  He slows his rub but doesn’t pull his fingers out. I groan, held on that knife-edge, wanting to come, but wanting him. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

  “Okay, Ben?”

  “Don’t want to come like this. Won’t get to feel you.”

  He squeezes hard around the base of my cock, the pressure there diffusing the pressure in my balls. “Better?”

  I nod. “Will you …”

  “Yeah.” His fingers slip away and he lets go of my cock.

  I hear the crackling of a condom wrapper being opened and I look back over my shoulder to watch him roll it onto his dick, a soft smile on his face when he meets my gaze. He pours lube into his hand and strokes it over himself, giving me a show. His eyes close and his mouth falls open.