Upside down, p.12
Upside Down, page 12
Remorse hit over my lack of confidence in her support. “I know, Becks. Thank you.”
“It’s the truth. The bottom line is I love you both and want you both to be happy. But if you don’t mesh, then I’ll be the first one to say please stay away from each other.”
I couldn’t agree with her more. Apparently we didn’t mesh, and if from the time we hung up until the time he got that call he decided everything that went down between us scared him, then fuck him.
I did feel guilty keeping information from my sister, but she was too invested in both of us to be impartial. More important, I wouldn’t want her opinion of her best friend to change because of me. And since I couldn’t confide in her, nor could I call Sam, Griffin, or Janis, I’d call Riana later. She was the only one who would be impartial.
“Well, I love you too… and I’m fine.” Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “What’s on the agenda today?”
“I thought we could go to the beach. It’s not too hot out. We haven’t been in so long, and Antonio loves it so much. Is that okay?”
Welcoming the distraction spending the day with my nephew would provide, I eagerly agreed. “Sounds great.”
Meanwhile, I kicked myself for placing all my hopes on figuring things out in his fucking basket. Again, I never considered Ricky not wanting to be a part of my self-discovery… especially after last night.
We both agreed the unexplained level of attraction between us was mutual. He admitted as much when he said he confessed our time together forced him to jerk off to a visual of me. He proved as much when we seemed to detonate with every kiss. So the only explanation—he now was the one living in denial.
Between his wife ready to pop at any moment, the unexpected turn of events with his newly hired executive director, and a toddler with many demands, poor Marco was extremely stressed… which meant my sister was stressed.
Yesterday I insisted they take some time to be together. They resisted at first, but after I painted a picture of them relaxing at a luxury hotel for the weekend, complete with spa treatments and gourmet meals, they caved.
Of course, the hotel had to be minutes away.
Of course, Rebecca left me with a detailed typed list of instructions, as if she were going to a third-world country.
Of course, she backed out at least three times before they walked out the door.
I didn’t take her reluctance personally. She knew I was perfectly capable of taking care of him by myself. How hard could it be? Besides, I owed the little dude for providing a great distraction this past week. I rarely thought of Mr. Chickenshit at all.
Except for at night while lying in bed, when my dick would tap my abdomen, reminding me it was horny.
Riana seemed to think he’d run because he’d felt something more than just lust. In my opinion, that made him even more of a coward. But as I knew she would, my friend played devil’s advocate, reminding me of his experience with that Corey dude. Okay, maybe she was right… still, being dismissed stung.
So there I was, changing Antonio’s diaper for what seemed like the hundredth time since Rebecca and Marco left a few hours ago, while I formulated a game plan for the rest of my time in Florida.
Come Monday, I decided I’d research therapists in the area. In addition, I planned to check out the support group Riana had sent me a link for, whose members were conflicted with similar confusions to mine. And last, I was going to hit the hot spots in Fort Lauderdale, open to meeting someone… man or woman.
“Sound good, kid?” I asked my nephew, who was enthralled with my cell phone. He glanced at me, blinked, and returned his focus to the most annoying song I’d ever heard, regarding a baby shark. “Yeah, I agree. My problem is boring.”
I lifted him and asked, “What now?” It was only two in the afternoon, and the stretch of time until another distraction came in the form of dinner seemed eons away. To add insult to injury, rain had made it an inside day. “How about you watch this on the big screen for a bit?” I asked him and waited for confirmation.
When he uttered a word that sounded similar to shark, I took that as a yes and loaded an episode up on the flat-screen. Only when he saw that animated fish dancing around on the wall did he finally relinquish my cell.
And no sooner had I placed it on the table beside me than it began to buzz. Expecting the fifth call from my sister, my heart stalled at seeing it wasn’t her.
“Hello.”
“Hi.” My silence stretched before he said, “Can we talk?”
“About what?” The fact you took off at the first chance without an explanation.
But when he said, “Let me in,” my heart began pounding for other reasons.
“I’m busy.” I had no desire to see him.
“Open the damn door, Cooper,” he barked.
“Fine.” I ended the call, glanced at Antonio to be sure he was okay, and trekked toward the door. There he stood, still in what I knew was his uniform—a navy polo shirt with the ship’s logo and khaki slacks. Droplets of rain clung to his thick hair and darkened the fabric on his shoulders.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came as soon as we docked and don’t have much time.”
Knowing we had an expiration for this torture, I moved aside and waved him in. He led me into the great room, where Antonio still sat mesmerized, but when Ricky hesitated, I walked around him and sat on the couch.
With our eyes tethered across the room, I waited for him to speak.
“I’m sorry.” Those two words, combined with the torment on his face, had my resolve faltering. Tamping it down, I continued to wait him out, watching as he dragged a hand through his sandy hair and sighed. “Look, I acted—”
“Like an ass,” I interrupted, cutting my gaze toward Antonio, who thankfully was oblivious to our conversation.
“I was going to say impetuously, but whatever.” He smirked.
“So somewhere between the hours of three and six a.m. you impetuously decided to get out of Dodge?”
“No… I was going no matter what,” he argued while walking toward the chair beside me. Antonio glanced at him, completely unimpressed as Ricky sat down. “That makes me a responsible businessman.”
“Not calling or even texting all week makes you an ass.” I laughed sarcastically. “And a coward.”
“I suppose.” When my mouth flapped open and closed a few times, it was his turn to laugh. “What… cat got your tongue?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to agree.”
“Well, you’re right, but what matters is that I’m here now, and I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.” He glanced at the chunky Rolex on his wrist. “I do have to go.”
“You came all the way over here just for that?”
“Yep.”
“No explanation on way you were an ass?”
“Nope. I told you the important part.” His pale-blue eyes held mine as he stood, and my entire body thrummed with desire. “I’ll talk to you soon?”
“That’s up to you.”
He grinned at my jab. “Well, then I’ll talk to you soon.”
Damn him… because as he walked out, I knew that for whatever reason, this man had hooked me, and with each day that went by, he continued to reel me in.
Chapter Sixteen
Ricky
On one hand, the knot of dread in the pit of my stomach, because I ran at the first chance I got, was gone. It’d been a crappy thing to do, but after the night we’d had, from the kiss on my balcony to talking into the early-morning hour, I freaked out over how much I wanted him.
On the other hand, emotions that had surprisingly developed toward Cooper, ones that had continued to become more intense with each encounter, were impossible to ignore. I wasn’t handling them very well. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to cut ties. That proved true when I’d showed up at his sister’s house without warning after ghosting him for a week.
And now, as I temporarily resumed my role on Bella Viaggi, a new emotion had settled within me. Dared I say excitement… maybe even hope? Whatever it was had me anxiously waiting for Martin’s return so I could get back home… very unlike me. My work was my life, and for the first time ever it seemed to be in the way.
Surprisingly, he forgave me. Over the last two weeks, Cooper and I had slid into a comfortable routine of sexy random texts during the day and lengthy phone conversations at night. A few nights a week, once all the guests were asleep, as the ship sliced through the tropical waters, I’d sat in the same place on deck where he and I had first kissed and called him.
He’d fill me in on all he’d been up to while the days of his stay in Florida seemed to fly by. As we’d return to port each Saturday, I could’ve attempted to see him before embarking again a few hours later, but I’d purposely kept myself from doing so. If things could naturally develop between us even as we were apart, coming together could be easier when and if that ever occurred.
On more than one occasion, I’d wondered what would become of our situation once August came around, only to push that aside, deciding to take one day at a time. It seemed it was my turn to take on the act of denying.
He, on the other hand, had no problem admitting to things that scared him, excited him, or even intrigued him. Maybe it was that distance that coaxed him to open up as he had… the miles separating us acting as a security net of sorts?
Sometimes those admissions had led our conversations down a dirty path as I responded just as honestly. Sometimes his concerns had created an obstacle neither of us knew how to hurdle. Tonight, it was all about Cooper revealing his vulnerabilities. I understood exactly where he was coming from, and him being so blunt led to me wanting to do the same. Never had I experienced such a brutally honest relationship with anyone, especially when denial had been his crutch for so long. Still, I seemed to hold back more than he did when it came to matters of the heart. Probably because I couldn’t shake the ever-present sense of déjà vu.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, his voice gravelly over the phone.
“Don’t you always ask even after I say no?” I stared out into the moonlit darkness, wondering what he wanted to know now.
He chuckled. “True. When did you know… like, really know?”
“That I was gay?”
“Yeah. Were you into girls before then, or did you always know?”
“I think I always knew. I just felt different… not impressed by the same things my buddies were impressed with, not turned on when guys at school talked about a girl’s impressive tits. Contrarily, being in the locker room with them as they casually walked around naked was what seemed to turn me on. Of course, I ignored it and hid it.” I paused. “Denied it.” He grumbled at the use of my favorite word over the line. “Yeah. I meant it when I said I understood feeling the need to deny. It goes with the territory. Most of my teenage years I felt off. But at fifteen was when I knew for sure.”
“How?”
“My mom and I traveled to California during spring break. The house she rented was right on the beach and next door to an openly gay, very voyeuristic couple. Probably in their early twenties. I didn’t know if they lived there or also rented. They weren’t around during the day, and a few days into our stay the only time I saw them was late at night. In their defense, they had no idea they had a horny teenager next door struggling with his sexuality.”
Cooper remained deathly silent on his end as I continued. “My bedroom window gave the perfect view of their deck. One night, muted voices and laughter woke me from a sound sleep and curiosity had me investigating. There they were, naked on a chaise, and one was blowing the other.” As was typical whenever I recalled that night, lust over witnessing their intimacy, mingled with a touch of shame from watching it, churned within me.
Cooper continued to remain quiet over the line. “Of course, I’d seen plenty of movies of a man and woman having sex, and because I suspected I was gay, I had snooped around online, trying to find anything I could on men with men as well. It wasn’t as accessible back then. But seeing it in person, having a front-row seat, had me pulling out my dick and using them to get off. Until then, I never came as hard as I had that night, and that says a lot for a teen who jacked off constantly.”
“So what does that say for me right now that my dick is hard just hearing about it?”
The visual spurred an involuntary groan. “I think you know what that says, Cooper.” Needing to know something that had pricked at the doubts I held on to, I then asked, “Has a visual of a woman fucking a man ever made you hard?”
He audibly dragged in a breath. “My excitement while with a woman is usually dependent on being physical. Watching people having sex or hearing about it never did it for me… until recently.” I wanted to say that spoke volumes, but I remained silent, allowing him to draw his own conclusion. “Is this common?”
“What?”
“This insane attraction we have. Is it a normal thing?”
“Not for me. I’m guessing that scares you?”
“No. We already know my dick wants what he wants. And now I think it’s safe to say my heart does as well,” he then admitted, yet again shocking the shit out of me.
“Does it now?”
“Yeah, it does.” Hearing such a forthright claim knocked my cockiness back a step or two. Despite my reservations going into this thing that seemed to be happening with us, despite the protective shield I’d hid behind after Corey fucked me up as he had, I wanted to admit the same. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do so.
Instead, I asked, “The question—what are you going to do about it?”
“I think…” He paused and amended by saying, “Actually, I know that it’s time to turn some fantasies I have regarding you into realities.”
“That admission comes with consequences, Cooper,” I threatened. I’d say it again… this wasn’t a game, and he needed to know his words held weight.
“I’m well aware,” he retorted without an ounce of hesitancy.
Fuck, if I was anywhere near him, he’d be naked beneath me in a heartbeat. But he was there, and I was here, and it looked like my hand would be pathetically supplying another night’s worth of relief because of this damn man.
Somehow it was already the middle of June. I’d been away for three weeks, and yet it felt like a year.
When Bella Viaggi pulled into port that morning, I successfully swapped places with Martin, who had returned in time for the next journey. Cooper had no idea my temporary assignment covering for Martin was now over. In fact, I also kept that from Marco, who was too busy pacing his home, waiting for his wife to go into labor. And I kept it from Rebecca, mainly because she had a big mouth.
It wasn’t until I walked into my apartment that I let the cat out of the bag and called Cooper.
He answered with, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why?” I acted dumb while grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
“You should be running around doing your thing, being all charming, for the next voyage.”
“That is assuming I’m on the next voyage,” I countered. “Martin’s back.”
“Where are you now?”
“My apartment.” I couldn’t tell if his silence was a good thing or a bad thing. “You there?”
“I’m here. I’m sure you have a ton to do.” It was clear he was probing.
“I do… but first on the list is to see you.” There, I said it. I finally left no doubt as to what I wanted from him. Until then, I’d kept things vague by letting him do all the talking. And he’d talked a great game these past few weeks. But without the miles separating us, there was no valid excuse to keep pussyfooting around our relationship, for lack of a better word.
If taking things to the next level was what he wanted, then that was what he’d get. Time was ticking, and my cock couldn’t take another “fantasy” when the real deal was willing and within reach.
“I’m on my way,” he finally said, and in the process unleashed every ounce of pent-up desire I had carried for him for far too long.
I barely had time to shower and unpack my suitcase before my intercom sounded.
“Yes, Roger?”
“I have a Mr. Stanton here to see you,” my doorman said, announcing what I already knew.
“Thank you. Please send him up.”
A few minutes later, I stood in my doorway, waiting for the elevator to arrive. The chime echoed around the quiet hall as the doors slid open, and there stood Cooper, seeming confident—until he stepped toward me while nervously running a hand through his already messy hair.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I repeated before we stood inches apart, neither of us taking the reins. “Come in.”
The scent of his bodywash, or shampoo, or whatever it was assaulted my senses. The tight-fitting green T-shirt and equally tight jeans assaulted my libido. He shoved his hands in his pockets before turning to face me.
“Welcome home. I guess I should have said that to you earlier.”
“It’s good to be back. Is Becks driving you crazy?”
“Just a tad. She’s miserable. That kid doesn’t seem to want to come out.”
“She’s only two days late,” I reminded him, as I’d reminded his sister that morning.
“I guess even being two hours late while carrying a bowling ball around in this heat is too much.”
“True.” I mirrored his stance and asked, “Does she know you’re here?” The way his gaze shifted gave him away. “Where does she think you are?”
“A movie.”
“And she bought that?” I asked, amused. “I’m back in town and you suddenly decide to go to a movie? Rebecca isn’t that stupid.”
“Probably not,” he said with a shrug, not seeming at all concerned. “I’m not ready to out us.”
Even though there really wasn’t an us yet, and even though there still seemed to be an awkwardness on how to begin creating an us, his admission that there was an us pulled on something deep within me.
