Heartbeat

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between the story and reality are purely coincidental. Please contact the author at doncornelius69 AT yahoo DOT com.

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Heartbeat

TATE

The one thing I really did like about California was the weather. I'm out jogging in the early afternoon and it's 83. In Dallas today the high is 108. Even if things hadn't turned out the way they did, I'd probably have been happy with the move just for the weather.

I'd decided to go five miles because I was still pissed at my mom and I needed some time to think. She'd been weird ever since I was attacked and I got it, but she was acting in some ways like SHE was the one who'd been attacked, and I really didn't understand that. I thought part of it was the move, that maybe she thought it had been forced on her. The attack, and my father filing for divorce to distance himself from me, from her, from everything... well, I guess it got to her. I could understand it, but I didn't have to like it making her blow up at me. I'd been a punching bag for more people than I could count for more months than anyone should ever have to take and I didn't need that coming from my mother.

So, I needed to blow off steam and to give her some space. The last few months had made it really clear we only had each other and to some extent it was for the best. My father hadn't really been there since I'd come out in 7th grade. He never really 'got it' and kept trying to get me to grow out of it, as if being gay was some awkward phase I would eventually mature beyond. I think the fact that I favored my mother more than him certainly put him in a bad space, I wasn't the son he wanted. I mean, I could throw a ball and I wasn't a disaster at sports, but I wasn't him and he'd just grown more and more resentful every single year. I'd grown to accept him, realizing that we were never going to be close. We would never have conversations about how I felt about the world or my place in it, he just wasn't interested. To be honest, I wasn't terribly interested in what he thought either. It was hardly a surprise (and generated no sadness) to know my father had decided not to contest custody.

I rounded the corner onto Emerson and saw Chelsea Frandsen coming out of her house with a massive guy wearing a Stanford t shirt with the sleeves ripped off that looked like it could accommodate two of me.

He saw me first and kept his eyes on me. Naturally, my gaydar started going off, mostly the result of wishful thinking. My potential harm meter also went up, thinking he was another closet case like Derek. As I got closer, Chelsea noticed me and waved me over so I jogged up and met them at the curb next to a ginormous truck that would have been at home in Texas.

"Hey!" she said. "I'd give you a hug but..."

I laughed, "Yeah, I'm a little sweaty."

She turned to her friend whose eyes were locked onto me. She had to punch him in the chest to get his attention.

"Zach Waller, this is Tate Douglas. His mother went to college with my dad and they just moved here."

I stuck out my hand, "It's nice to meet you, Zach."

And nothing happened for about 10 seconds before he finally smiled and shook my hand, so delicately I literally thought WTF?

"Nice to meet you, too. We're heading to San Jose to do some shopping, want to join?"

I looked down at my very sweaty and very shirtless torso, then back at him, "Nah, I think I better head home for a shower."

Chelsea blurted out, "I'll see you tomorrow at brunch."

"Yep", I said as I started to jog away, then looked back and said, "Y'all have fun." Which I instantly regretted since y'all wasn't exactly vernacular in the Bay Area.

As I ran back to the house, I realized something... I was no longer thinking about my situation but was instead trying to think about Zach Waller. Holy shit, if ever there was a guy more in need of sex, and for whom I would be more willing to put out, I'd not seen him.

ZACH

I'm in love. I'm driving down the 101 with Chelsea and my heart is still racing after meeting the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen.

"What the fuck is up with you? You're running at the mouth all afternoon, but since we left, nothing but silence?"

I looked over at her and smiled, "Your friend."

"Oh, shit. I didn't even think about that."

I laughed, "Tell me you don't think he's absolutely beautiful."

"Well, he is, but he doesn't play on team V."

"No shit? He's g?"

She smiled broadly, "Yep. Are you interested?"

I rolled my eyes, "The hell do you think? I wanted to take him home and spend a couple of hours just licking the sweat off him."

Chelsea groaned, "That's an image I didn't need in my head."

I laughed, "Well, you asked if I was interested. I thought I'd answer your question with a little color. So, what's his story?"

"His 'story'"?

"Yeah, you gotta know something."

"Well, from the three times we've hung out over the two weeks he's been here, I can't really say much. He's got a good sense of humor, his laugh doesn't bother me, he likes romcoms almost as much as I do, and he seems pretty smart. He's going to be senior with us. He had some sort of incident last year, but he didn't elaborate. I could tell he was touchy about it so I didn't press."

"OK, I can work with that," I looked over at her, "Do you think he'd go for me?"

She laughed, "I don't know, I couldn't really pick up on anything from him, but I know he wasn't disgusted by you. He did have a strange look on his face when you shook his hand? Were you sweating?"

I grunted, "No, I just didn't apply much pressure. I didn't want to hurt him."

Chelsea snorted, "Zach, he's smaller than you but he's not made of crystal."

"I know, I know, but I didn't want his first impression of me to be my crushing grip!"

Chelsea rolled her eyes, "Whatever. You know, you worked hard to get as big as you are, and it works, you can BE that guy with him. I don't think he'd run."

I suddenly got serious, "What, big douche brah?"

Chelsea laughed, "No, you don't have to start acting like an ape, but you need to own yourself. Like when you shook his hand, you should have applied pressure. Don't crush his hand but let him know you're a man and the muscles aren't for show."

Chelsea knew where my head was, but she wasn't going to let on. She was right, I'd worked since 7th grade to get to the size I was, thinking I'd play ball in college and go pro. It really wasn't for show, even for a big guy I was strong and what she didn't understand is that sometimes that came out in weird ways, like in breaking someones hand when you shook it. I'd really been careful with that after doing it to a coach my junior year. Now, especially with someone like Tate... I started to get nervous just thinking about it. Tate was surface of the sun hot and dudes like him weren't typically into guys like me even before you introduced the idea of broken bones.

When we got to the mall, I had Chelsea text him asking if it was OK for her to give me his number. I was nervous as we shopped until she got a response. One word, `SURE'.

I spent the next hour trying to figure out what I wanted to say before finally settling on `It's Zach, Chelsea's friend. Would you like to go out tonight?'

About 10 minutes later he responded.

`That sounds great. I don't have a car right now, so can't meet you out. Can you pick me up?'

My heart literally did a flipflop in my chest. Can I pick him up? Yeah, son, I'd carry you in my arms if you'd let me.

`LOL... I was already going to. This isn't friends getting together, I'm interested in you. Real date. I'm buying and driving. Cool?'

I got back a beating heart emoji and `yeah, it sounds great. My address is 2745 Bayless. What time do I need to be ready?'

I looked at the time and realized I still had to get ready myself. `I'll see you at 7',I replied thinking it would be better to send a definite time.

The rest of our time shopping was weird as I was alternatively happy he'd said yes and anxious as hell to get back. We decided to bail after I told Chelsea she should definitely pick up a tie dyed skirt that looked absolutely horrible and I could no longer hide the fact that all the processing between my ears was focused on Tate.

Tate fucking Douglas. GODDAMN. I don't know what I did to make God put him in my path, but I will do anything to show how thankful I am.

Right behind that gratitude, and the excitement that was animating me, was the realization that he could end up being like Joaquin, but that only barely soured what I was feeling. For some reason, even being nervous as hell, I felt good. Confident. Well, maybe not quite confident, but at least good.

Yeah, I felt good... Tate seemed like a good person and I trusted myself to cut things if I felt like he was manipulating me.

Looking at myself in the mirror after getting out of the shower, I knew I looked good. However, while I was jacked and pretty decent looking, I knew I was punching well above my weight with Tate. As I looked in the mirror, I thought `I'm a solid 7, maybe 8', which made me happy since I HAD put in the work to look like this, I'd earned it. And tonight, I had a date with a 10+ and he'd been enthusiastic about it. My ego was definitely blowing up.

And the shock I felt when we shook hands still hadn't completely dissipated, which was driving me as much as any of the 16,000 other things going through my mind.

I can admit it, I had it bad.

I finished getting ready, told my parents what I was up to, and left. At 6:56 I parked in front of his house and checked the address to make sure. I had the AC on in my truck to max because I was nervous and trying to stop sweating. I was taking a chance and knew this could all end in disaster, just like the last time, but I felt compelled. OK, I told myself, forget for a moment he's hot as fuck. Focus on the smile. There was something about it, something genuine and hard to fake. That's what made me keep moving forward.

Well, that and the fact I fell in love with him as he jogged toward me just a few hours ago. Jesus. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Get your shit together. Whatever happens, you protect you." Then I grabbed my phone, and got out of the truck.

I walked up to his house at a relaxed pace and at 6:59 I rang the bell. I stood there for less than a minute before the door swung open. Behind it was an older and female version of the man I was here to give myself to.

She smiled, "You must be Zach. I'm Beverly Edelman, Tate's mother. Please come in."

"Thank you."

She closed the door behind me and said, "Let me tell him you're here."

I saw her walk into the kitchen and I tried to look cool as I stood in the entry, nonchalant and shit. Completely relaxed and unwilling to display any hint of the internal nervousness I was very much feeling. I heard her speaking softly but couldn't make out what she was saying, then I heard her hang up the phone and walk back to me.

"I'm so sorry, my son runs perpetually late. That's the bad news. The good news is, it's never by much," she finished with a light laugh.

Of all the parents I'd met on all the dates I'd had, she was my favorite. Like her son, she was completely at ease in her own skin. Flawless looks were one thing, but casual confidence in any situation was not only sexy, it put others at ease.

I smiled back at her, "It's perfectly fine, we won't have any problems with the reservation where we're going."

"So my son didn't tell me much, other than that he met you at Chelsea's. You're a senior this year?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Wonderful. Where are you thinking about college?"

I smiled, "Well, my father played football at Stanford and then never left. He's counting on me following in his footsteps."

"Is he making the decision?"

"How do you mean?"

"Do you want to go to Stanford?"

Now, I laughed at her perceptiveness. "Yes, ma'am. Stanford is where I'm going because I want to. My father's thrilled but he just wants to see me pick a good school for my future. Luckily..."

"Stanford's in our backyard."

"Absolutely."

And right at that moment, Tate started coming down the stairs. He moved, in my head, like he was floating. He had on a pair of navy shorts that showed off his perfectly tanned and beautifully sculpted legs and a French blue polo that seemed made specifically for his body. His blond hair, which curled in wide loops, was piled on his head loosely, with curls falling onto his forehead. It's no exaggeration to say he was effortlessly beautiful.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs he stood there looking at me and said `hi'. And I just stared back, mouth hanging slightly open, like a complete goon.

At first I softly responded, "Hi" and then, seconds later, shook myself out of my stupor saying, "You look amazing!" which made him smile broadly.

"Thanks. You do, too." Then he glanced at his mother, "What time do you want me home?"

She sighed, "No later than 1. I don't want you out on the roads too late."

He said OK and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then walked over to me. My mind still hadn't completely recovered from him gliding downstairs so it took me a bit before I realized we were ready to leave. I could feel the rush of adrenaline and it helped my head clear enough to speak.

"Ms. Edelman, it was a pleasure meeting you. I promise I'll bring him home safely." I said to his mother.

She laughed, surprised I think at my nervousness, "It was nice meeting you as well."

I opened up the door and we walked out to my truck.

Once we got in I couldn't help but look over at him again and smile.

"What?" he asked.

I cleared my throat, "Uhm... nothing, I, uh... I was just looking at you and trying to be subtle about it."

That made him laugh, "Well, let's go eat. Then you can sit across the table and look at me all you want. Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything..."

"Talk to me when you do it, just don't sit there and stare. It's really creepy."

I laughed at that, then put the car in drive and glanced back over at him, still smiling.

"Yeah, I guess it would be. Does that happen often?"

He laughed, shaking his head slightly, "You'd be surprised. I always assumed it was because I had something on my face or stuck in my teeth, but it was just staring to stare."

"You know, and I'm sure you get this a lot, you're a pretty attractive guy. Maybe that's more the issue?" I said, being snarky.

He just sighed, "I know, I'm not stupid, but it's not an excuse to just stare. It's really off-putting."

"Yeah, I guess it would be, even for someone as hot as you."

"Can we talk about something else? Even nuclear non-proliferation? This makes me kind of uncomfortable."

"That's a first for me, hearing someone beautiful talk about being uncomfortable about their looks!" I said, laughing.

"I'm not uncomfortable about how I look, I just don't want to talk about it. There's more to me than just the face I had nothing to do with putting on my head."

That hit me and I got it. This whole time I'd been focused on how he looked, not the man behind the face and I felt a pang of shame. As much as any misogynistic straight guy would with a beautiful woman, I'd objectified him. He wasn't upset with me, he hadn't made the leap yet, but I had.

"So what did you do in Texas outside school? Any sports?" I blurted out, trying to distract him from drawing the same conclusion in his head I'd made in mine.

I could hear the brightness return to his voice, "Yeah, I play tennis. I had a good doubles partner for a while but we had a falling out so I moved to singles. I absolutely love it."

"That's awesome. My mom's pretty good, but I'm anything but. I don't move well enough."

He smiled and looked over at me, "I find that kind of hard to believe."

"It's true. I can run pretty well, but I'm awkward. I'm pretty fast and nimble on a football field, less so on a tennis court."

"Nah, you just need some help."

"Are you offering?"

"Maybe, let's see how tonight goes." And there was that smile. It's the kind of smile that disarms and makes you want to do anything to see it again.

Our conversation stayed just like that all the way through dinner. There were a couple of times I'd catch him pausing about something, but I knew it was something he was being careful, for himself, about. It had nothing to do with me and I didn't press, thinking (wisely as it turned out) he'd tell me when he was ready.

At one point, a busser dropped a tub and breaking dishes caused him to suddenly jerk his head to the right and an image flashed into mind of him on a sail boat. It took me, maybe, 5 seconds to remember the image that even now is hanging on the cork board over my desk, not that I really needed it as it had been part of my fantasy file for more than a year.

Rob Lamb. I remember that ad because I ripped it out of the GQ I'd found it in. The guy wearing the white shirt made my dick hard and got me ready to go faster than almost anything had. My mom even bought me a couple of his shirts thinking my affection for Rob Lamb's ad had something to do with Rob Lamb's clothes.

And he hadn't mentioned it. Not in passing and obviously not to Chels who would have told me. I felt like maybe it wasn't something he wanted to discuss, and figured it had something to do with the crack he'd made about his face on the ride over.

I heard him clear his throat and realized he was looking at me curiously, "What are you thinking?"

I smiled back at him, "Dessert?"

After a piece of pie with a side of ice cream for me, and a lemon pudding for him, we were walking out of the restaurant.

"Hey, if I ask you to do something, will you promise not to think I'm a freak?" he asked.

I didn't hesitate since there was nothing I wouldn't have done for him at the merest suggestion. There was zero chance I'd ever think he was a freak even if he started some weird religious cult.

"Promise."

He held out his hand, "Would you shake hands with me?"

I looked into his eyes and just went gooey. 260 pounds of gooey guy who could bench press a truck, all because of his eyes. I grasped his hand and despite being mesmerized by him, managed to shake his hand like an adult. I think he was more than surprised by the pressure, but to his credit he didn't make a sound. All he did was stand there, smiling, leaning back against my truck.

"What?"I asked with a shit eating grin, knowing why this had occurred and remembering my conversation with Chelsea about it.

"You're in love with me, aren't you?"

I stammered and finally "...How?" was all I could get out.

"It took me some time to put it together, but when we first met, I knew you were into me, I just didn't know HOW into me you were. The handshake kinda threw me off, it just didn't match you. Then I thought maybe you were trying to be careful with me. When you shook my hand just now, I realized I was right."

"You've been working on this since we met?"

"Yep," he said while turning to open the door. "And if it helps assuage the rather obvious fear plastered all over your face, I like you, too." And then he climbed in and shut it.

I walked around to the other side and got in, only to sit there for a bit until I felt his soft hand on my forearm.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out and I promise I won't take advantage of you."

There was an earnestness in his voice and a look in his eyes that told me I could believe him.

I smiled back at him and said, "YOU take advantage of me?", trying to make a joke out of what was for me a very uncomfortable situation.

He just looked back at me, completely serious, "Yeah, and I don't want you to worry about that or think you have to 'man up' in some way. I'm not a bad guy, I promise."

"I didn't think you were," I said, starting the truck, "But," and I sighed, probably more deeply than I ever have, "We're not on the same level."

"Maybe not right now, but I have a feeling we're closer than you think. You're a sweet guy. Chelsea told me you could be a little rough around the edges, but she had it all wrong."

I cleared my throat, "No, she's right, but that's not what I'm talking about. I've only ever been in this situation once before and you're seeing me pretty exposed."

He smiled, knowingly and infuriatingly, "I get that. You've never really been this into someone..."

"I've been in love with someone before and it ended in disaster. I'm not into you, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you jogging. I felt the same way then and now, and I'm scared."

"Oh...I didn't realize."

I laughed, "Guys like you never do."

"Hey, that's not fair. You don't know me well enough to say something so negative about me," he said, clearly irritated.

"I'm sorry, I assumed. Guys like you..."

He groaned, "What does `guys like you' mean?"

I didn't hesitate, "Gorgeous. Beautiful. People who don't have to worry about anything, ever, least of all someone's feelings, because the next person who comes along will fall in love with you, too."

He laughed, "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Because I'm attractive, I'm basically a psychopath?"

"No, but the world works differently for people like you than it does for anyone else."

"Oh," he started as he adjusted his seatbelt, "this from the guy who can curl a small home."

"OK, I get it. You think it's disingenuous of me to point out that guys like you don't exactly lack for interested partners while someone like me can get people to stop being an asshole just by getting close to them, as if the two are somehow equivalent."

"Goddamn, we are actually having a fight over this. Someone pretty fucked you over at some point, so you've decided to indict everyone who even remotely reminds you of them?"

"What did Chelsea say?"

"Nothing. She didn't have to; you wear your hurt like a fucking pin on your chest. Pull over at that gas station."

"Why?"

"Because I'm getting the fuck out. This isn't going to work because you can't get far enough out of your head and I'm not going to waste time with the untreated mentally ill."

I turned in and parked, then watched as he pulled the seatbelt and reached for the handle. I locked the door and he looked back at me with rage in his eyes.

"Unlock it. I know I don't look like I can hurt you much but I'll damn well make you regret fucking with me."

"Please don't go," I said in the softest voice I'd ever used as I unlocked the door. He looked right at me as if he could see into me, like he was trying to determine if I was indeed worth it. After seconds that felt like minutes, he softened.

"Take me somewhere we can talk about what you went through, and I don't mean just surface stuff, somewhere you can let it all out because this is your one chance. I'm not going to get smacked around because of someone else..."

"I wouldn't..."

"Mentally and emotionally smacked around."

I drove us up to a park I knew in Los Altos. Nothing special, just a neighborhood park that would be abandoned at this hour. We got out of the truck and walked over to a swing set and sat down, side by side.

"You're feeling insecure and it's making you defensive and nasty. I get that, but you can't put shit on me that I didn't do, it's not fair."

I slumped in the swing, kicking some sand with the toe of my shoe, "I know and I'm sorry."

"What's funny about this is that you never thought about how I felt about you."

"What do you mean," I asked, not sure where he was going.

"I LIKE YOU TOO. I may not have fallen head over heels in love with you yet, but I'm close. You're like a dream for me, muscles for days but gentle with soft eyes and a square jaw. It's like the man I would have created if God had asked me for pointers. And I have to tell you all this so you'll understand that you're not alone. That the attraction is mutual and it's not just physical."

I sat for a second, head spinning. He wasn't exaggerating or telling me this to make me feel better, he was being open and honest in a way that was unexpected. Finally, I smiled, then looked over at him to find him shyly smiling back at me.

"Well, I, uhm... really misread things."

He laughed, "Yeah, you did, and now all the fun we could have had getting to know one another like normal people is gone. All that's left is just the tedious relationship."

And that made me laugh. I exhaled slowly, preparing myself. He needed to know what all this had been about and I needed to make sure he could handle it.

"Two years ago I started dating a guy from SJ. Well, I wasn't dating him so much as becoming his bitch."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for him. He twisted me around so easily I'm embarrassed to talk about it. It was like I didn't have a will of my own; I'd hear his voice and act. It scared the crap out of me and after one particularly fucked up weekend, I cut off all contact with him."

"Must have been hard," he said, softly, the empathy in his voice standing out against the silence around us.

"It was. I had to see a therapist for a while and he compared it to an addiction. That, plus some lingering self esteem issues made me the perfect mark for a sociopath."

"I know this is stupid, but how do you have self-esteem issues...?"

"I was fat as a kid. I got picked on a lot, then around 6th grade it all started to come off and I started to lift. Putting on muscle came easily and things changed. But inside, for a long time, I was still that kid."

He kicked at a rock with his toe, "I wish I'd known you as a kid. I could have helped..." "Maybe, but probably not. There were others who did, Chels makes the top of the list. But it wasn't enough.

He looked at me straight on, eye to eye, "I'm not Chelsea."

That earned him a kiss and I don't know how I did it, but when I opened my eyes, his were still closed and his lips were still slightly pursed.

TATE

I don't know how much time passed between the kiss and him asking, "Are you ok?" It wasn't a dumb question, I'd gone blank. That kiss held such intensity that it was seconds before I could open my eyes back up, let alone for his words to register.

"Yeah, it's just that kiss really got me. You're going to have to be careful with me when you do that."

He gave me a peck, "Now you know how I feel when I look at you."

My heart began to slow and I was able to relax for a bit before he reached out to me and I gave him my hand. We got up and walked back to his truck where he opened the door for me and then kissed me again with so much intensity it actually made me go limp. I came out of it, realized he was holding me up, and I quickly stiffened my shaking legs, trying to recover without tipping him off, only to be met with a smile and then, whispered into my ear, "I love that I can do this to you."

"I know," I said, my eyes starting to glisten, "I'm just going to have to get used to this," I thought but didn't say. He reminded me of David Fitzsimmons, the senior I'd dated when I was a freshman, but David I knew and knew I could trust. While I felt like I could trust Zach, I didn't really know him yet. The way he kissed me, when he really kissed me, was so intense it left me completely in his control. And that was just a kiss.

What would sex do to me?

I recovered enough to place his hand on my chest.

"Oh my God, did I do that?" he asked, as he felt my heart racing.

"That's all you. I meant it when I said you need to be careful with me."

I broke his embrace and climbed into the truck. Once I was in, he stood at the door and gently touched my leg, causing me to look over at him. What he said, and the emotion in his voice, made my stomach knot up as his eyes melted me.

"I've got you. You don't have to worry. I'll catch you, I promise."

And like that, any disparity in how we felt about each other evaporated. The change had really happened over minutes, with me in a kiss induced fog for most of it, and left me in love and him free of the insecurities that had plagued him earlier.

I smiled back at him, and said softly "OK."

He nodded, then stepped back to shut the door. I watched him walk around the front of the truck, his heavy frame buoyant and I swear a little taller than he'd been just an hour before. This time, when he got in, he lifted himself on the frame handle and swung into the seat. It was a power move, something that you could only do when your arms were really strong. It wasn't a show for me, it was just what he did when he felt good and right now, he felt good. I glanced over at him as he started the truck and he asked if I wanted to go to a party. I said sure, still trying to collect myself and get back to normal. The knotting in my stomach had been replaced by butterflies and a tingling sensation all over my body. I looked over at him, his right hand on the wheel, the muscles in his forearm causing the skin to shimmer. It was, in a word, odd. He wasn't just built for a high school kid; one could be excused thinking he was easily 10 years older. I'd been with athletic guys, but this was a first. He was different in so many ways, starting with what I knew now to be his real demeaner. I had to admit, despite my worry, that I liked this confident and completely assured version of him, no longer overwhelmed and in his head, but instead relaxed and poised, ready to take on the world, apparently now unbothered by worry about whether I would be there with him or not.

The party was at an AirBNB someone had rented so we parked a few blocks away. He waited for me as I got out and took a second to get my sea legs. He laughed, asking if I needed to be carried.

"You did this, so at least have the decency to give me a bit to get back together." I replied, smiling.

He shook his head slowly, "I don't know if this is going to work out. If you have problems with a kiss, what are you going to be like when we have sex?"

My head snapped up and I looked at him sharply to see him smiling broadly. It took him a second to read the look on my face, which prompted him walking over to embrace me, saying he was just teasing.

"I know, but it was a thought I had when we were leaving the park." I looked away, then back at him directly, holding eye contact. "You probably think it's stupid, but I'm legit worried about it. I've never had someone so completely overwhelm me. My hearts only calmed a little, but it wouldn't take much for you to make it beat like a rabbit again." He hugged me tightly, whispering emotionally into my ear, "I meant what I said. I'll catch you; you don't have to worry." He gave me a little squeeze, then pulled back to look at my face which wasn't nearly as worried as it had been. "I know, just remember this is new for me. You're into me a lot further, and much faster, than anyone ever has been and it's making me nervous. I need some time to get it together." In the course of an hour, we'd traded places. Now, I was the one who was nervous. What a difference a kiss can make.

"You want me to take you home," he asked with concern.

"No way! I mean in general. Shaky legs from a kiss are not a normal thing for me."

"It's the first time I've ever done that to someone, so we're both doing something new." And that made me laugh.

He winked at me, then reached out with his hand, "Let's go in."

I gave him my hand and was amazed at how well they fit. I didn't have small hands by any measure, but his were like catchers mitts. My hand seemed almost tailor made to fit his.

Once we got to the house, I finally got to see him in his element. The first thing I noticed; he liked introducing me to people. It was like a boy with a new toy, absolutely endearing. The second thing I noticed was just how deferential people were to him. He wasn't overwhelming, but people fell over themselves to be polite and friendly to him and to me. It wasn't fear, they were happy to see him, but it was something new to me.

He left to get drinks and I stood there for a moment, talking to two of the people he'd introduced me to. It was a couple and one of them was going on about something on Netflix and I couldn't, for some reason, even pretend to be interested. I was instead looking around and my eyes landed on a nicely built guy, who smiled at me as I made eye contact. I quickly averted my eyes and excused myself, not wanting to be rude but pretty desperate to get away from that spot.

Making eye contact always makes me nervous because it can so easily be misinterpreted. I was just idly looking around and I saw in the guys smile more than I wanted to see, a hunter looking for prey. I made it into the dining room where he found me.

"'Sup?" he asked, with a broad smile filled, with straight, very white, teeth. He was tan, with black hair and obviously athletic. He was taller than me, but not as tall as Zach, and his body language made it obvious he was absolutely trying to catch me for all the wrong reasons. He wasn't overly aggressive, just enough to put me off balance without creeping me out.

This wasn't my first time to experience this particular feeling, one I assumed was akin to what a prey animal felt. I may not get my neck torn open to become someones dinner, but there is definitely another part of my anatomy hunters always wanted to stretch out.

Unfortunately for this one, I spent my freshman and sophomore years twisting guys just like him around for sport.

"Nothing," I said casually with just a small smile. "Just looking for my date."

He narrowed his eyes, "Who are you here with? I probably know him."

I pulled back just a bit, "What makes you think it's a he?"

And that got him. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. I assumed..."

I started to laugh and he stopped mid stutter and smiled, "You're having fun with me."

"Just a little." I held out my hand to him, "I'm Tate Douglas and I actually am looking for Zach Waller."

He shook my hand, "Tate... that I will remember. I'm Ben Cordero. You came with Zach?"

"Yeah. A friend introduced us earlier today and he asked me out."

"Zach's a good guy and unbelievably lucky."

"How so?" I asked, stupidly curious.

He smiled, running his hand over his head and making sure to flex his bicep as he did it.

"He ran into you before I did."

"I walked into that," I replied, laughing.

"Walked into what?" Zach said behind me as he handed me a cup full of what ended up being beer.

"Ben here was telling me how lucky you are."

Zach reached out to bump with Ben and said with a smile, "Yeah, I got to you before he did."

Ben rolled his eyes, "Well, it was nice to meet you," he said looking at me, and then to Zach, "Gotta bounce."

As Ben maneuvered around us, I turned back to Zach.

"How did you know that's what he meant?"

He took a gulp of his beer, then whispered into my ear, "We often compete for ass. We're friends."

I looked at him with half a smile on my face, "I'm going to skip what I should probably say here and just ask how close a friend is he?"

He leaned into me, "He helped get me away from Joaquin."

"The guy from San Jose?"

He nodded.

I took a drink, then said, "I get it."

We ended up walking around a bit more and then finally sitting down on the patio with some people Zach knew. One of them was a girl who kept glancing at me. I got the sinking feeling I knew why, but she didn't say anything until I got up to get us more beer.

She decided to tag along. Her name was Kristen and she was a junior. Very cute and very eagle eyed, she'd recognized me from a shoot I did for Rob Lamb more than a year ago. But she didn't say anything until we were inside.

"You've done some modelling, haven't you?"

I groaned, "Please don't say anything, I don't want it to be a thing and I haven't said anything to Zach."

She made a strained face, "You know he'll figure it out, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to deal with it tonight. It's our first date and I'd like to be normal at least tonight."

"Well, you're out with the biggest player in the school. Is that normal?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Zach gets around and then he cuts guys loose. I think he's probably been in every good looking gay and bi guy in the school."

"Oh, well, that I figured. And it's kind of hard to hold him to a standard I couldn't meet."

That made her laugh, "Well, then you're perfect for one another. I have to say there's something different with him and you."

"Different? Like in a good way?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I should have been clearer. I've seen him with a bunch of guys and he never really seems interested in them. With you, I don't know, he seems to hang on every word and reaction. He keeps glancing at you."

"Well, that makes me feel good," I said, laughing a little. "I really do like him." Love. I love him. I was in love with him. But I wasn't about to tell that to someone I'd only just met.

We got our beers and then went back to the table. As I started to sit down, one of the dudebrahs Zach played football with said, "Dude, I know I've seen you before."

I took a drink, then said, "I've been here about two weeks. Maybe at Safeway or a restaurant?"

"Nah, it's something else." FUCKKKK, drop it dipshit, went through my head as I began to notice that everyone at the table was suddenly scrutinizing me.

And to my shock, Zach spoke up, "He's done some print work."

The brah asked, "What's that?"

I cleared my throat, "It's modelling. I've done runway and print. They put you in the clothes, take pictures, those become ads or layouts in a magazine... that kind of thing."

Eyes wide, he looked at Zach, "DUDE, you're dating a fucking model!"

"Yeah, Tommy, but that's not why I'm dating him." Zach responded, coolly. I glanced over at him and he turned just a bit to see me smiling.

Tommy and some of the others laughed, muttering `whatever', and then Kristen changed the subject, thankfully.

Surprisingly it didn't create nearly the level of bullshit I had expected. When I started doing it almost three years ago, several of my girlfriends made a deal out of it and then it became all about me thinking I was better than everyone else.

Never mind that I'd never been a snob, it kind of stuck for a while until it faded from memory about two weeks later. The truth? It was about money, more specifically having my own and not being dependent on my asshole of a dad. And he was GREAT about it. I cut him a check for the taxes, and I was free to do with the rest what I wanted. Luckily, my mother helped me and now I had college, enough for a car, and would probably have enough for a down payment on a house. Not bad for 17, right?

We stayed until about 12:30, then I noticed people starting to leave and looked over at him. He nodded, clearly understanding the look on my face and we both got up. We made our way out of the house, saying our goodbyes along the way. As we walked to the truck I decided I wanted to know how he knew I'd modeled.

"I need to ask you something..."

He smiled, "Can I guess what it is?"

"Sure, I'll play along."

"When did I realize you were a model?" "Yeah..."

"At dinner. You looked away for just a second and I remembered the picture."

"Which one? The ski lodge? The sailboat?"

"Sailboat. That's the one. When you turn your head to the right, you can't miss it."

I smiled at him, teasing, "Sure, if you have a photographic memory."

He wrapped me in his arms, hugging me tightly, "Such a smart mouth for someone with such tiny arms."

I looked into his eyes and he came in for a kiss. It was just as intense as the first one, but I responded a little better, not going completely boneless.

As I stood there, looking at him, he said, "I remember that picture because it's on my wall just above the desk in my room. I tore it out of a GQ more than a year ago and I've been obsessed with it."

"Obsessed? Really?" I asked.

"Really. I didn't know why, but that guy in the picture did something to me."

I laughed, "Made you need to rub one out?" which got me another playful squeeze.

"Not just that," he said, his tone turning serious. "There was something about that picture that just made me feel, I don't know how to describe it... awesome. It made me feel like anything was possible, like I could accomplish anything I wanted." He looked at me, deeply, then continued, "I know this all sounds weird, I can't really explain it, but I'm telling the..."

I nodded, "I know, Zach. I believe you. Lookit, stranger things have happened." I said with a shrug. "Maybe let's not try to read too much into it?"

He smiled and came back in for a kiss, which he broke and hurriedly put me into the truck to begin a mad dash to get me home.

I just laughed, "Zach, slow down! My mom's not going to freak out if I'm 5 minutes late!" And he just glanced at me, smiled tensely and continued driving.

We pulled up in front at 1:01 exactly and he jumped out of the truck and was opening my door as I reached for the handle. He walked me to the front door and stopped me as I reached for the knob.

"I...I... just, damnit I'm so bad at this," he blurted out which made me smile. I put my hand on his chest, and I looked into his eyes.

"You're fine. There's nothing you need to say."

That made him smile, "There's a LOT I need to say, but right now I can't put the words together. It's all too intense and I..."

And I decided to kiss him for once, reaching up to grab his face and pull him down to me.

When I broke the embrace, he was smiling at me.

"Thank you and thank you for an amazing first date."

"That was pretty good," I told him. "You're welcome and thank you for a wonderful time."

He started to walk off and I once again reached for the door only to hear him clear his throat and ask, "So, what time tomorrow?"

I smiled, "Uhm... 8?"

"See you then. Sleep well, gorgeous!"

I watched him walk back down to the street and watching him jump off the last step into the street and thought to myself, there's my person.