CHAPTER 25

THE next day, just after lunch, we loaded our bikes onto the Jeep and headed for the trailhead. I was leaning against the window, watching the trees fly past, trying to steady my nerves and convince myself that I didn’t really need to throw up. I hated myself for being so nervous.

“Are you okay over there?” Matt asked lightly.

“No. I’m trying to remember why I agreed to this.” I was trying to remember our conversation from the day before, but in the harsh light of day, it was hard to hang on to. I forced myself to remember his whisper in my ear, his arms tight around me, as he told me that he loved me. That’s why I was here. I was doing this for him. Still, it was doing nothing to alleviate the knots in my stomach.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Logically, I knew that he was right. It was just riding, which I love. I probably wouldn’t have to talk to them much at all. And in a few short hours, we would be back home. I took a deep breath. “Who are these guys? What should I expect?”

“Grant Jameson and Tyson McDaniels.”

It took me a second to figure out why that name sounded familiar. “Grant Jameson? That asshole that came to my house and asked if I had kids in my bedroom?”

“Grant is an asshole. I won’t even try to deny it. But Tyson is an okay guy. Mostly he just follows Grant’s lead. I think if he knows you better, maybe he’ll quit listening to Grant so much. Grant will probably always harass me about it, but it’s starting to be more like friendly harassment. Most of the time, at least. And I think it’s important for them to realize that I’m not ashamed to be with you.”

“So they accept you now but not me, even though they know we’re together?”

“For the most part. Once they realized that calling me names wasn’t going to change anything and that I could still hold my own against any of them, they got over it.” He shrugged. “Mostly. Some of the older cops will never accept me, and I can deal with that.

But Grant and Tyson are the ones I work with the most, and I need for them to get used to it. They’re starting to accept it, especially Tyson. They know me, and I don’t fit their stereotype. You don’t fit it either, but you refuse to prove it.”

“That’s really all it takes?” I was still skeptical.

“I think that’s a lot of it, yes.”

I shook my head. “I think you’re kidding yourself.” He didn’t answer, and we drove a while in silence. I was confused when he passed the turnoff for the trail we usually rode.

“Where’re we going?”

“Johnson’s Rock.”

That surprised me. Johnson’s Rock was the toughest trail in the area. Matt could almost keep up with me on the easier trails, but the one time we had tried Johnson’s Rock, he had struggled more than usual.

“Why?”

“It seemed like a good idea.”

“Are these guys that good?”

He smiled over at me. “Not even close.”

“You do realize you’re making no sense at all, right?”

“I told them the other day that you and I were going riding. And Grant asked, wouldn’t I rather ride with somebody who could keep up with me instead of a fucking fairy? So I suggested that they come with us.”

“That’s why we’re going to the toughest trail in the area?”

“Exactly!”

“I still don’t see how this will change anything.”

“It’s all about competition. They have respect for people who can beat them.”

The light came on. “Ah. I think it’s all making sense now.”

“It will bring Grant down a notch to eat your dust all day. And it will prove to them both that you’re not what they expect.”

“You are a manipulative bastard.”

“I am.” And the smile he gave me made up for it all.

Grant and Tyson were waiting for us at the trailhead. Tyson nodded and shook my hand when Matt introduced me, although he seemed unwilling to meet my eyes. Grant didn’t even acknowledge my existence.

We mounted up and were just ready to start out, when Grant said, “Are you boys and girls ready?” Tyson turned away, obviously embarrassed. Matt ignored him completely. I felt myself go red up to my hairline and heard the blood pounding in my ears, but I kept my eyes on the ground and said nothing. “Okay then,” Grant said when it became obvious nobody was going to respond. “I’ll wait for you at the top.”

Matt smiled at him. “We’ll see who’s waiting for who, asshole.” He said it jokingly, and Grant and Tyson both laughed before starting out, leaving Matt and me at the trailhead.

“You ready?” he asked me.

I couldn’t even look at him. “I’m trying not to hate you right now.”

He put his hand on the back of my neck and waited until my eyes met his. “I know.”

Then he leaned over and kissed me lightly. “Thank you for trusting me.”

I shook my head but let it go and asked instead, “Do you want me to wait for you? And them?”

“Only if you want to.”

We finally started out. I left Matt behind me and passed Grant and Tyson within minutes. Once I was off on my own, my bad mood started to wear off. I love it all too much, the mountains and the riding and the challenge of making it up the trail. The sun was shining. The temperature was in the low fifties, but the breeze had a hint of frost in it.

Among the towering evergreens were patches of aspen, their white limbs bare. Sheltered patches of ground that never saw the sun had snow that wouldn’t melt until next spring. I found that I couldn’t hang on to my anger.

I turned around and rode back down to them. Matt was riding with them now.

“Hey,” he said happily as I reached them. “Is it a successful ride? Are you bleeding yet?”

I laughed. “Not yet. Are you?”

“Only Tyson, so far. We were just talking about a bet—whoever crashes the least has to buy dinner.”

I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “You’re on.”

I rode with them for a few minutes until we got to the next hard section, where I ended up ahead of them again without meaning to. The rest of the ride was like that. I would ride ahead for a while, on my own, and then turn around and ride back down to meet them. We would ride together for a while, but I always seemed to end up out front on my own after a while, whether I meant to or not.

“Jesus, Jared,” Tyson said once as I rode back down to them. “You’ve probably ridden twice as far as us. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“No, but I’m pretty fucking hungry,” I said jokingly. “I wish you guys would hurry the hell up.” Tyson laughed. Grant just shook his head at me. Matt was smiling at me like I had hung the fucking sun and moon, which somehow had me annoyed at him but ridiculously pleased at the same time.

Eventually, Matt left them, too, and rode with me to the top. We took a short break and then headed back down. We found Grant and Tyson resting where we had left them.

“Aren’t you guys going up?” Matt asked.

“Hell, no,” Grant said. “We’re beat.”

It was easier to stay together on the way down, and I only finished a few minutes ahead of them.

“Good ride, guys.” Matt said when they finally reached us. “Next time we’ll pick an easy trail so you pansies can keep up.”

Tyson actually laughed. “Looks like dinner is on Jared.”

“I crashed too,” I said. Since I had only been with them about half the time, I wasn’t really sure who had won the bet.

“Don’t think you can get out of it by acting humble,” Grant said, surprising me. Not only was it the first time he had spoken to me directly, but he even sounded halfway civil.

“You rode circles around us all day. You’re buying!”

“You bet,” Matt answered for me. “We’ll meet you at Tony’s.” And if his smile got any bigger I thought I might have to punch him.

“Will you please quit looking so damn pleased with yourself?” I said as we drove down, although I found that I was smiling a little too.

“Eventually. Admit it—it was a good idea.”

“I guess.”

“It’s okay to admit that I’m right, you know.” He winked over at me. “Just say it. Say, ‘You’re right, Matt’.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You really, truly are a manipulative bastard. And you might be right. That’s all you’re getting.” He laughed.

So we had dinner with Grant and Tyson. Mostly the three of them talked shop and I just listened. They were still looking for Dan Snyder, but after checking with all of his relatives, they had nothing to go on. We did talk about football and mountain biking a little.

Tyson was friendly from the beginning, but by the end, even Grant had loosened up, and when we started to leave, he stopped me. He waited until Matt and Tyson were a few steps ahead and then said nervously, without actually looking at me, “Look, no hard feelings, okay?” He held his hand out, and I shook it, hoping I didn’t look as amazed as I felt. Matt and I drove home in silence. We had barely made it through the front door of our house when he tackled me and pinned me to the floor. It didn’t take much effort on his part, and I wondered just how good he had been at wrestling in high school.

“Oh my God, you’re heavy!”

“Say it again! I just want to hear you say it one more time!”

“You’re heavy!”

“Not that. Come on now.”

“You’re a manipulative bastard.”

“Try again.”

“You were right! Is that what you wanted to hear, you huge oaf?”

“Exactly!” He smiled down at me, that amazing smile that could still make me melt.

“You should be getting used to that by now.”

“How long are you going to gloat?” I asked him jokingly.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He was still on top of me, but it had turned into more of an embrace, and I could feel him unbuttoning my pants with his free hand. He started kissing my neck, and I slid my hands under his shirt, up his back. “Now what about the job?” he asked quietly, his lips soft against my skin. “Will you take it? I’m right about that, too, you know.”

I sighed. I knew I would have to face it soon, but not quite yet. Not this moment. All I wanted at this moment was him. The fumbling below had shifted now, and I knew he was undoing his own pants. “I’ll think about it. Is that enough for now?”

He was smiling when he said, “For now.”

I reached down and slid his pants and briefs down over his hips. I couldn’t get them far, but they were at least out of the way. He reached into my boxers and pulled my cock out so that it was lined up against his, wrapped his hand around both of us, and started to pump his hand slowly up and down.

Despite his enthusiasm for sex that first day, we had only fucked one other time, and even then, only because I wanted it. At first I thought he was embarrassed, but then I started to realize that the act itself made him uncomfortable. When I tried to ask him about it, he simply said, “It isn’t fair to you.”

I tried to convince him that I didn’t mind being bottom every time, at least for now, but it didn’t help.

“Do you think less of me, for letting it be done to me?” I had asked him.

“No. Not at all.” I wasn’t sure if it was true, or if he only wanted it to be true.

“Then what?”

“How can you not think less of me afterwards?”

That didn’t make any sense to me, but I didn’t push. After all, it had barely been a month since his first sexual experience with another man. I figured whatever his hang-up was, he would get over it in time. For now, we had other ways of pleasing each other. Still, I was surprised to discover that this was actually what he liked best: holding our cocks together and beating us off at the same time. He said it was because he could watch me. I tried not to be self conscious after that, but I also thought it was because he could kiss me easier. Whatever his reason, I wasn’t going to object.

I put my hand over his and urged him to pump faster. He had developed a sort of twist at the top of each stroke that caused the heads of our cocks to rub sideways against each other, just a tiny bit, and it was fantastic. Still, he had taken care of me the night before. For him, it had been several days, and it was only a minute or two before his fist was slick from his own come.

He moved down then. Whatever his hang-ups about anal sex, he had none whatsoever about getting come in his mouth. I put my hands on his head, doing my best not to push, while he sucked. However, I couldn’t stop my hips from thrusting up toward him when I came, and he groaned, too, not from discomfort, as I unloaded in his mouth.

I was still reeling from my orgasm when he moved up and kissed me. “I hope you know,” he whispered into my ear as he nuzzled my neck, “that was only a warmup.”

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