“Can you unlock it for me?”
“Oh, sorry.” He held out my phone, and I quickly input the code.
I watched as he quickly typed something and then handed the device back to me.
“I put my number in there. If you don’t change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
“I won’t be changing my mind,” I said, lifting my chin in determination as I put my phone away.
“I guess we’ll see.”
“We will.”
Stellan only winked at me, and I turned to walk back to my car. I refused to allow myself to think about what had happened as I drove, since distracted driving, especially when tired, wasn’t safe. Thankfully, no one else was on the road, and I made it home in one piece.
Only once I had stripped down to my boxers and was lying under the scratchy sheets did I give my mind the all clear to run away with itself. But it didn’t. Instead, it just decided to play back the fiery kisses Stellan and I shared until I found myself reaching for the lube so I could stroke myself to release.
Having the memories of his lips against my skin, strong hands firmly pressing into my hips, and his ragged breathing in my ear was all the help I needed. As my hand worked furiously over my cock while precum dripped over my fingers, it wasn’t long until my body was stiffening and my back arching as I came.
Rather than immediately cleaning up, I laid there with a cum-covered hand and stomach as I tried to catch my breath. That time, there wasn’t any confusion or embarrassment that I’d jacked off to him. Instead, my entire body was humming, and my skin tingled as a reminder of where he’d kissed me earlier.
I still couldn’t explain why I was feeling this way, but Stellan was wrong. I wouldn’t have any regrets when I woke up later that day. It made no sense to me why this was happening now, but did everything need an explanation? I didn’t think so. It was like some of my friends who were gay or bisexual told me: you can’t help whom you’re attracted to. And I was very attracted to Stellan.
I finally mustered the energy to climb out of bed and clean myself, and only once I was back under the sheets did fatigue finally make an appearance. Since I had his number, it was up to me to make the next move.
As his words played in my mind before I fell asleep—“Never hold yourself back. If you want to say something or do something to me, then do it”—I reminded myself he’d given me the green light. I just needed to put my foot on the gas.
12
Stellan
“What are you doing tonight?” Baylor asked from where he sat on the stool in my garage.
He’d brought his car over for me to change his brake pads, rotors, and oil. I’d started doing that for him after he asked my opinion about a bill he’d received when he’d taken his vehicle in to a different body shop and something as simple as getting new spark plugs turned into them trying to get him to buy a new transmission. He could’ve easily taken it to Baker’s, but since I enjoyed tinkering with cars, and it gave us time to catch up outside of rehearsals, I didn’t mind it.
“Probably my typical Sunday night special: pizza, beer, and Netflix. You?”
“I’m having dinner with Julianna.”
“Which one is she?” I asked because that name didn’t sound familiar.
Baylor was a serial monogamist. He loved the idea of love and had his heart broken just as much as he dated. He fell hard and he fell fast, then picked up the shattered remains of his heart, glued them back together, and dove into the next relationship without giving himself time to heal from the previous one. It was a vicious cycle, but he refused to get out of it, so all we could do was sit back and watch every time that train derailed.
“I met her at Clancy’s. She wore the navy-blue pants and white lacy shirt?”
“That rings a slight bell.”
“I have great feelings about this one, Stellan. She’s different.”
Like I hadn’t heard that one before. But the rest of us had given him our two cents, had offered advice, and now we’d all come to an agreement to hope for the best while expecting the worst. He didn’t need our ribbing or opinions. He just wanted us to listen and be supportive.
“That’s great, Baylor. I certainly hope so.”
“What about you? Who’s caught your interest?”
I was still under the car, so he couldn’t see my face. “What makes you think someone has?”
“Really? I mean aside from the fact you wore your hair differently at Clancy’s, as well as put on one of your tightest shirts and best-smelling cologne, you also checked your phone at least twenty times before crawling under my car.”
I snorted as I reached for a wrench. Even if I did want to spill my guts to Baylor much like the old oil was dripping into the pan, the fact was, I wasn’t even sure I had anything to tell him. Foster hadn’t called or sent a text, and it was disappointing to think I was right. He had regrets and had changed his mind.
I’d seen it happen too many times before and had even allowed myself to be someone’s experiment while they figured out what they wanted—while getting burned in the process. So I should have known better, but I decided playing with fire was worth the burn.
“It’s nothing, Baylor. Just was trying to look good for the patrons, is all.”
“Whatever you say. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”
“I appreciate it. But there’s nothing to talk about.”
Sure, I said that out loud, but I still found myself checking my phone the rest of the day. I had to tell myself he was probably asleep or busy. Or too chicken to reach out to me first. And as much as I wanted to message him, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to come off as pushy, which was why I gave him my number. He needed to figure out for himself if he wanted to continue whatever it was we were doing. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what it was, myself. And if he decided it wasn’t for him, then I’d have to respect that and do whatever I could to ensure things wouldn’t be awkward between us at Clancy’s.
Once Baylor had left, I took a long shower and then got out my sax. It was one thing to play for shows or during a rehearsal, but it was another to just play for me. The vibe behind it was so different. I wasn’t putting on a show for anyone, and I allowed myself to just play whatever tune came out of me.
I didn’t bother setting up sheet music. I didn’t even care to put my chest strap on. Instead, I stood there in my living room, eyes closed as my heart created the melody. Since this was being made up on the spot, rather than something from memory, I was surprised how easily my fingers moved over the keys without tripping over themselves.
I played for what seemed like hours, moving from one song to another. I even threw in some favorite sax solos from older songs but would add a few runs and riffs to give them my Stellan flair. By the time I finally put my instrument away, I was surprised at how much better I felt. Any uncertainty and tension I’d felt earlier had melted away as I got lost in the music.
After grabbing a drink from the kitchen, I went into the living room to watch some TV. My phone was lying on the coffee table where I’d left it, and I saw that the display was lit with a notification. It was probably a text from one of the guys in the band, or my sister questioning why I hadn’t been to visit the family down in Florida yet. I always avoiding that conversation or gave excuses about work and the band keeping me busy. She still tried, though, and I had to admire her for not giving up.