Chapter 8

eight

ALEX

The next morning, I increased the pace on the treadmill, pushing myself to complete my run in record time. Last night, after Dylan went to bed, I stayed awake, thinking about my mom. She’d worked hard to give me the best education and life she could afford. And, as long as our dad didn’t find us, we were okay.

It wasn’t until I was in fourth grade that I realized we were different from other families. The other kids in my class wore newer clothes, went on all the field trips, and had desks full of stationery. I didn’t understand why I was bullied or why my friends abandoned me. But I did understand math and computers, and later, how those two things could transform my life.

My feet pounded against the belt as I sprinted along the home stretch. In two minutes, I’d cross the finish line, posting my personal best time. I increased the pace, pumped my arms, and ran hard. The TV screen above me showed crowds of screaming people lining the Champs-élysées. The black and white checkerboard of the finish line was close. Throwing everything into the last, desperate sprint, I lunged forward, breaking the winner’s red tape.

With the roar of the crowd ringing in my ears, I gave a satisfied grunt and moved into cool-down mode.

“Congratulations,” Dylan said from the doorway.

I jumped and nearly flew off the end of the belt. By the time I found my footing, the treadmill had slowed to an easy jog. I sucked in a lungful of air and tried not to stare at Dylan’s shorts and baggy T-shirt.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“About five minutes. Can you run in other locations?”

I nodded and concentrated on breathing. A sane man would push aside all thoughts of long legs and sleep-tousled hair. But I wasn’t sane. I hadn’t been sane since the day Dylan stood in my front yard.

Dylan walked across to the stack of towels. “Do you like running?”

“It keeps me focused.” Although that focus was being severely tested. I thought Dylan might be gay, but I’d been wrong before. And, for the sake of what we were trying to do, I couldn’t afford to be wrong.

Dylan moved closer, handing me one of the towels.

“Thanks.” I brought up the menu, letting the program flick between running locations like a trailer for a travel show. “Which one?”

“Australia. I’ve always wanted to see the Sydney Opera House.”

“Run or walk?”

“Walk. I prefer to run at night.”

My eyebrows rose. I pushed the stop button and rolled to a standstill. “I thought the evenings were reserved for curling in front of the fire with a good book.”

Twin spots of color appeared on Dylan’s cheeks. “Why would you think that?”

I might not have had any brothers and my dating history was pretty much non-existent, but I knew when to be careful—especially when Dylan’s laser beam stare was directed straight at me. “It’s fall. It’s cold.” I waited for him to say something. He didn’t. “What do you do in the evenings?”

The look on Dylan’s face didn’t get any better. “I go to the gym four times a week. Sometimes I go bowling with my friends. And when I’m feeling super-social, I go to Dixie’s Bar and Grill. What do you do for fun?”

“I sit in front of the fire reading a book.” I grinned, then wiped my face with a towel. All things being equal, I thought it was a good time to leave the gym.

Dylan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

I glanced at him before wiping down the treadmill. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, there is. It doesn’t matter what either of us does in our spare time.”

“I agree.” I moved away and Dylan stepped onto the treadmill.

“I mean, so what if my brother thought I’d be an old maid? Just because I couldn’t find any decent guys to date didn’t mean I was a lost cause.” He shut his mouth and frowned at the control panel.

I sucked in a deep breath. “You’re gay?”

Dylan nodded. “Along with all my brothers. I hope it won’t be an issue, but I thought you should know.”

My heart pounded. “It doesn’t make any difference. I’m gay, too.” I leaned across the hand grips and pointed to a button. “Push this to start. The arrows beside it sets the incline, speed, and distance. The emergency stop is here. Cool-down kicks in automatically when you’ve finished. I take it the brother who thought you’d be an old maid is Luke.”

Dylan pushed the start button. “Ever since Jarrod stuck a ring on his finger, he’s made everyone’s life difficult.”

“Maybe he wants you to be as happy as he is?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if he is happy.” Dylan increased the speed. “Whenever Luke’s stressed, he gets bossy. Everyone tries to keep out of his way, but it isn’t easy.”

“Have you talked to him about what’s upsetting him?”

Dylan frowned. “We’ve tried, but he says everything’s okay.”

I moved across to a yoga mat. If I didn’t start stretching, I’d be hobbling around the house. “At least you have brothers. It’s worse when you don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“Who do you talk to when you were worried?”

I stretched my right leg, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “Friends.”

“Do they help?”

“Sometimes.” I closed my eyes and focused on the pull of my muscles.

“He’s right,” Dylan said softly.

I opened my eyes. “Who’s right?”

“Luke.”

I wound back our conversation and tried to figure out what he meant. “You’re too young to be an old maid.”

“It’s not funny,” Dylan muttered.

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You’re smiling. Smiling means you find it amusing.”

“I find it…in teresting.”

Dylan held his finger on the speed button. “I’ve changed my mind. I need to run.”

Appreciating the sight of Dylan’s long legs speeding along the treadmill wasn’t getting the kinks out of my body—it was only creating more. With a resigned sigh, I stretched my other leg.

“We should talk about the project,” Dylan said. “I was thinking about the stack trace.”

I was thinking about a whole lot of other things. Things that could get me into serious trouble.

“At the point where the program failed, eight major functions were being initiated. We’ve tested four and they seemed okay.”

Dylan was barely out of breath. His sessions at the gym must be more intense than mine.

“The core dump gave us a snapshot of what was happening when the program crashed. If we compare that to the stack trace, then cross-reference it to the four remaining functions, we might be able to isolate the bug.”

“Does your brain ever switch off?”

Dylan wiped his forehead and grinned. “Not usually. Dad said it’s one of my more endearing qualities.”

“You should have listened to him instead of your brother.”

“That’s what Mom said—after she told me she was looking forward to cuddling her grandbabies. She doesn’t realize how hard it is for gay men to have children.”

I walked across to the clean towels and grabbed one for Dylan. “It sounds like you have a lot going on.”

“After Luke gets married, everything will go back to normal.” With one last jab at the control panel, Dylan ran toward the Sydney Opera House .

I was glad he felt optimistic because, from where I was standing, it didn’t sound as though anyone’s life would be the same again. Between wedding vows and babies, Dylan’s single days might be numbered. Especially if his brother and mom had anything to say about it.