27. BILSON

TWENTY-SEVEN

BILSON

My first instinct was to take Miles out somewhere, but no sooner do we get in my car and leave the Ranch than I realize I have no idea where to take him or what to do. I’m still not familiar with Nashville.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“I have no idea.”

Miles whines. “Then can we go back to your place already?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m going to do this right. “I figured we should go somewhere together. Like a date.”

His eyes widen.

“Like non-PDA date. Nothing has really changed between us—this still has to be a secret, and you’re not comfortable coming out—but that doesn’t mean we have to continue to pretend this is only sex. We both want more without being able to have a whole lot more, so let me give you a proper date.”

I’m not sure how he’s going to react. He looks like he’s trying to decide between kissing me or punching me.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything more than what it is. I just want to show you that I’m on the same page as you.”

“Oh, that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what are you worried about?” Whatever concern he has, I’ll fix it. I’ll show him he has nothing to worry about.

“What if one date turns into two, and then you’re proposing on the third?” His face slowly morphs into a smirk.

“You fucking little shit. For that, you can pick the place we’re going.”

“Sure. Has nothing to do with you not having any idea where to take me.”

“Nothing at all.”

Miles nods toward the windshield. “Take a left up here.”

He directs me where to go, and we end up round and round a road leading up a hill.

“Where are we?” I ask when he tells me to park on the side of the hill.

“Love Circle.”

“Why does that sound dirty but sweet at the same time?”

“We used to call it Love Circle Jerk in high school.”

“That would be more fun. Is that what we’re doing here?”

“It has a good view. It’s supposed to be romantic or whatever.”

“You mean bromantic? Because that’s the story we’re sticking with.”

Even though he sends me a smile, there’s disappointment in his eyes. “Yeah. We’re sticking with that. If you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

I purse my lips. “If I really think about it, I almost prefer keeping us quiet. I’m embarrassed, but maybe not for the same reason that you are.”

“I’m not embarrassed. If I thought for a moment my parents would be cool with it, I probably wouldn’t hesitate. Though I wouldn’t mind being more established in the league before I did. Okay, so I’d have things holding me back, but it wouldn’t be embarrassment about who I am.”

“I just mean that I’ve been married four times. I’m known for fucking up relationships. Even if I were still dating women, keeping things on the down-low sounds like heaven to me because I wouldn’t be constantly watched waiting for the next failed relationship to hit the hockey gossip sites.”

Miles seems to droop in his chair. “It sucks that we’re both in a situation where it’s easier to keep it quiet.”

“It does, but at least we’re in agreement.” I flick my gaze to his. “Okay, show me your Love Circle. See, it is dirty.”

We share a laugh and climb out of the car, but as he leads me to the small hill that overlooks the city, we pass these fenced-off squares.

“What’s in there? Is that where the circle jerk happens?”

Miles snorts. “Sure. If you like getting electrocuted while coming. It’s all electrical stuff in there. Like power exchanges or whatever they’re called.”

“So, what you’re saying is, we could really make some sparks fly in there?”

This time, he shakes his head.

“We could be fire.”

“You’re going to be making electricity jokes for the whole date, aren’t you?” he grumbles.

“Not at all. No jokes. I promise.”

He narrows his gaze at me because I’m sure he knows what’s coming.

“Can’t promise not to pun the shit out of it though.”

“Of course you think there’s a difference there.”

I nudge him with my shoulder. “Show me where the best view is.”

He lowers his voice. “If I was going to show you the best view, we’d be at your house, and we’d be naked, but I guess I can show you the best view in Nashville.”

I match his tone. “That would still be you naked in my house.”

“Of Nashville, then.”

We walk to a clearing, and the view is amazing, but I’m too distracted straining my ears trying to figure out what the fuck that moaning sound is. It’s like a grunt mixed with some weird kind of mewling. Like an animal attack. It’s close but still far enough in the dark for me not to see.

“Is that … some kind of bear eating a kitten? Does Nashville have bears?”

Miles covers my mouth with his hand. “It’s called Love Circle for a reason. Let the horny teenagers get it on.” He releases me.

“Those are sex noises?” Wow. “Why does it sound like he’s eating her?”

“He probably is.”

Public sex. Weird. Sure, Oskar’s known for that kind of thing, but I dunno. I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking anyone to do that. Mainly because if it got out, I wouldn’t be the one mocked. It would be them.

Though, with Miles, it’s a whole other story, and I wouldn’t do it to either of us.

“So, do we pretend like we can’t hear it and keep watching the city lights?”

“Yup.”

“Gotta tell ya, you sure know how to make this bromance special. A great view. Sex soundtrack. The threat of being electrocuted. This is the best date ever.”

“Let’s move away from the sex noises and sit over there so we can have real date talk.” He points.

I’d rather take the sex noises and uncomfortableness, thanks. Mainly because I hate date talk. All the boring tell me your whole life story type things. But then I realize I basically already know all that stuff about Miles. So, really, what else could he tell me?

We sit on the grass on the hill, and while it takes away most of the view of the city due to the trees in front of us, I don’t really care. Miles is a better view anyway, even if it is dark in this corner of the park.

“If you never got drafted, what did you want to do with your life?” he asks.

“Well, shit. I haven’t really thought about it.” When I think back to when I was a teenager, all I remember is not wanting to be corporate assholes like my parents.

“I reckon I would’ve made a good chef,” Miles says.

“Can you even cook?”

“I’m a good Southern boy. Of course I can cook.”

“Then why the fuck are we out here and you’re not making me a good ol’ home-cooked meal?”

He smiles. “Maybe another time. You thought about yours yet?”

I shrug. “I dunno. For me, it was hockey or college to begin that climb up a corporate ladder. I was so adamant I didn’t want that life, it’s what fueled me to be the best I could be at hockey.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Eh. It got me where I am, and I love what I do. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“I might,” he says softly. Almost like he’s ashamed.

“What do you mean?”

“I chose to play hockey because as the youngest child of four, I needed to make my parents proud somehow. And because hockey is the most expensive sport to play, of course my parents were willing to pay for it to make up for being the forgotten child.”

“I thought middle children were supposed to be the forgotten ones?”

“True. Forgotten probably isn’t the right word. The oldest is the one parents are the hardest on. The middle ones were forgotten. And the youngest is always spoiled, but only because by that point, the parents get over their helicopter phase and don’t even blink at you playing with knives.”

“So your parents put the knives on your shoes instead?”

“Yup. And bought me pet rocks and let me name inanimate objects like Annette.”

“Oh, thank God you admit that Annette is an inanimate object. I was seriously beginning to worry that she answers back.”

“What do you mean? She totally answers back. But I’m not delusional enough to think she’s a living, breathing thing. She’s a goalpost, CB. I’m not that weird.”

I disagree, but not going to lie, I love how weird he is. So do his parents. I’m sure of it.

I turn to face him. “Question. If your parents can embrace all your weird, do you really think they wouldn’t accept you for the teeny-tiny part of you that is your sexuality? It’s not like that’s all you are. You’re a hockey player, a wannabe chef apparently, you have amazing respect for your parents, for your family … You’re on almost a million dollars a year and could move out, but you choose to live in the separate apartment on your parents’ property. I feel like they would love you no matter what.”

He doesn’t answer for a really long time, and I worry I’ve offended him or he might think I’m not okay with our arrangement, even though I am. I almost take it back, but he replies as I open my mouth.

“There’s a chance they would accept me. But … what if they don’t? What if they tell me that being bi isn’t real or if I’m bi, then I could choose to be with a woman? What if⁠—”

“Okay, I get it. I don’t understand it because I know for a fact my parents wouldn’t care if I came out. That would imply they cared about anything that I did. But I do understand not wanting to let people down. It’s hard for me not to feel that way with every broken relationship I’ve had. That I’ve disappointed them. That I wasn’t enough for them.”

Sitting out here in the dark, where people are around but obviously distracted making bear attack noises, Miles inches his hand closer to mine and brushes his finger against my pinky.

“If it makes you feel any better, you haven’t disappointed me yet. Only surprised me.”

“Surprised how?”

“By how you allow me to be myself. Accept the real me. The way you encourage my weirdness and even the way you make puns.”

I grin. “Are you saying … I was a shock to your system? Get it? Shock? Like electric shock?”

He groans. “I take it all back. You’re terrible.”

“Terribly electrifying? Do I light your fire? Send sparks down your spine? Burn you up?”

“Are you done yet?”

I lean in close. “When it comes to you, I’m nowhere near done.”