Chapter Twelve

Ethan

ETHAN SHOWERED FIRST , and then Justin. They brushed their teeth together at the double sink vanity. Justin flipped the light switch to the bathroom, paused in the doorway, and watched Ethan climb into bed. Justin's eyes narrowed at his ridiculous twin toddler-like bed and then at Ethan's queen-sized.

"Do you think your dad did that intentionally?"

"Yes. Fuck it." Ethan scooted over.

"No, that's not part of our plan," Justin pointed out.

"No one here knows you. It's just for the summer." Ethan braved to say what he'd been thinking for the entire semester, a chance to try to do things the way he imagined Justin wanted. He put it out there as the tension rose and then left Justin. He climbed in with Ethan and sighed the biggest sigh Ethan had ever heard as they rolled to their sides, and Justin slid an arm across Ethan.

"It's hard to turn off and turn back on," Justin said.

"I know. But our deal is for school. We aren't at school."

Justin nodded against the back of his neck, and Ethan closed his eyes. He felt strangely safe. That was his last thought until they woke next to each other, covers kicked off, to a tap on the closed door.

"Breakfast, boys," his dad said through the door and then barked out, "Five minutes!" chuckling as he stomped down the stairs.

"Come on." Ethan groaned and got out of bed.

They got dressed, and Ethan took several pills from his organizer for the day, Justin looking on.

"How much longer do you have to take those," he asked as they headed down the stairs to the kitchen.

"I don't know. My therapist seems to think we could cut back on the dosage, maybe drop one of them altogether."

"What's that?" his dad asked.

"Dropping the dosage on one of my medications and maybe ending one altogether," Ethan repeated. "That's what my doctor said at my last visit. If I was still doing well at my next appointment. So, cutting them back."

"That's good, then," his dad said, and Bethany agreed.

"I scheduled all my sessions online for the summer."

"Well," Bethany said, "What's the plan for today?"

"If the boys don't have something else, I thought we'd head to the hardware store and knock out that flowerbed first. I'd like to get that done, and then you'll have your summer project."

Ethan and Justin agreed with the plan with their mouths full.

They spent two days building a retaining-wall flowerbed in front of the house for Bethany, and John was pleased to have the extra hands and muscle. Ethan and Justin spent their afternoons swimming in the pool and bathing in the sun. They woke up each morning together and tackled another project or two until John said that was everything on his list.

They planned a beach trip the next day and dragged snorkeling equipment out of the garage storage bins to take with them. Bethany loaded them down with a cooler of snacks and another ice chest of drinks, and they were off.

"This is the shit," Justin said, stretched out on a beach towel, glistening in the sun. "We are so living on a beach somewhere someday."

Ethan glanced over at Justin, eyes closed, slathered in glistening sunscreen and nothing but his swim trunks on. Ethan felt the same, but he hadn't missed what Justin had just said.

"Then you better get drafted somewhere on a coast," Ethan said but didn't acknowledge the other part of his statement.

"And the other?" Justin turned his head and opened one eye.

"Live on a beach with you while you play in the NFL, and we try not to get busted, Justin." Ethan shook his head at him.

Justin sighed and turned back to the sun. "There has to be a way. Be my agent, or lawyer, or PA, something."

Ethan sighed. "Because pro ballers have their PA living with them. And when your agent says you have to go to some event and bring a date for a photo op?"

"I wouldn't do that."

"I know. But what? Are we going to live behind some gates and have metal shutters on our windows with the knowledge that one photo, one single photo, and it's over? One paparazzi in a bush with a long lens, and then kiss your career goodbye. Coaching is out. That would be no different. Even in high school, there's a fine line to walk. One false accusation from a benched little shit player, and that's over. Unwinnable. I've had endless conversations with my dad and what alternative options to consider."

"And?" Justin turned his head again.

"You could be an agent. That's the only option Dad sees if this—" Ethan waved a finger between them. "—was really a thing."

"An agent," Justin said, turning his face back to the sun and closing his eyes.

"I would never ask you to do that."

Justin just nodded.

"Agents do well. The beach house would still be an option," Ethan said, and at Justin's grin, added, "You're an idiot. Maybe if you owned your own agency."

"Ah, an even better idea." Justin hummed and flipped over. "Do my back."

Ethan reached over with the can of oily spray and snorted as if something amused him.

"Funny." Justin shook his head and after a few minutes, added, "Is that how it would go?"

"Either way, both, none. You?"

"I don't know, I'm worried about answering that."

"Let's cross that bridge when we get there," Ethan said. "We aren't even close to the river, much less the bridge."

"No, but we are still on for the beach house, right? Can't you imagine it?"

"Fine, yes , it would be cool to live on the beach with you in a badass house, but I'd want a pool," Ethan said, playing along with the daydream.

"Yeah, because sand is cool for about five seconds. And I get it. I like your parents' pool."

"My dad bitches all the time about having to clean it."

Justin said affectionately, "I could see you doing that, bitching with a dip net."

"What do you think I'll be doing? Staying home and cleaning the pool?"

"Yeah." Justin shrugged. "I'll have an agency; you can just clean the pool and build me fires in our chiminea." Justin howled as if it was the funniest thing. "I swear to God, I'm buying you one of those things one day."

"Don't you dare," Ethan said, imagining it.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, I was thinking about sports reporting," Ethan said. "Get a job with a newspaper or magazine."

"I could see that. What about something in the hockey world?"

"That's a hobby."

"You love it, though," Justin pointed out, not for the first time.

"I do. It's something to think about."

"So, you're the reporter, and I'm the agency owner."

"No, you are the NFL player, and I'm the sports reporter with an exclusive."

"You're thinking about options, then."

"I mean, sure, do I think it's impossible? Yes ," Ethan said. "Does that mean I don't have hope or am willing to take some risks? I don't know. Your parents are a bigger obstacle for me than the NFL."

"If they knew, it wouldn't be as bad. I need to tell them before I consider going into the draft. And I need to think about changing my major and taking some business classes even though I won't graduate."

"You could finish school and go after."

"We'll see," Justin said. "Or I could play for a year, get my name out there, and then get a job as an agent."

"Two years, and then we consider the agent idea," Ethan countered.

"Then we are free?"

"Then we are free."

"And you'll be there in two years?" Justin asked, eyes locked on him.

Ethan sighed. "Looks like."

"Come on. I want to get in the water and snorkel," Justin said with a laugh. "With that 1980s mask and…"

"I know." Ethan groaned but got up.

"Your dad takes care of his stuff," Justin said, carrying the mask to the water. "How does something like this even last that long?"

"You saw the abnormally organized garage," Ethan said, pointing out the ridiculousness of his coach father, and they headed into the surf.

*

THEY SPENT THE evening on the beach strip and boardwalks, buying dumb matching T-shirts, getting their picture taken at an old-time photoshop, and posing as gunslingers. They ate dinner, bought souvenirs, asked people to take photos, and probably had more fun buying Ethan's parents a pottery sundial that matched their chiminea for their backyard than anything else.

The clerk at the shop thought they were insane the way they had carried on with each other over Ethan's parents arguing about where it would go in the yard for the best readout. How they joked over imagining Bethany asking what time it was and John frowning down, studying the damned thing .

Justin put the bubble-wrapped gift in the trunk and returned for the stand. Ethan stood at the tailgate, gripping his side as Justin told him to stop or he'd drop it.

"Best day ever." Justin leaned and pressed his lips to Ethan's once. "Come on; let's head back."

Ethan nodded, touching his lips as he made his way to the passenger side. This was really happening. It was the first time Justin had ever kissed him. Their future felt planned, or at least dreamed about on a beach earlier. But he kissed him , something he'd said he wouldn't do.

He didn't know how in the hell they were going to pull it off. Ethan opened the door and climbed in. He blinked several times when the car engine turned back off.

"Fuck—what?" Justin whispered.

"No, it's fine," Ethan said, shaking his head and wiping his face. "I'm good, it's good. Just—" He shook his head again.

The seatbelt unfastened, and strong arms tugged him over. "Just let it out. You don't have to talk."

And Ethan cried harder as he buried his face into Justin's neck and was held like that until it passed, and he got himself together.

"Good?" Justin asked, and Ethan nodded, clipping his seatbelt.

"You know," Justin started in when they were about halfway home, "if you ever wanted me to go to your counselor with you, or maybe I could go see her and understand better how to do things the right way when you deal with stuff, I'd do that."

"I know. I wasn't even sad or angry. I was happy. That's what's so stupid about it," Ethan said as he looked out the window. "I was happy. You kissed me."

"Ok, but that wasn't a happy reaction afterward, and I want to know what I'm supposed to do. Fucking that up isn't an option, Ethan," Justin said calmly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Yeah, okay, I'll talk to her about it. But we aren't mentioning that little meltdown to my parents."

"Fine." Justin reached over and squeezed Ethan's thigh. "Good now?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

And he was by the time they got home and lugged their gift inside.

"That was SPF 50." Bethany tsked, glaring at their reddened skin.

"And we used it, Mom," Ethan said, shooing her away. "Look what Justin said we had to buy." Ethan sputtered, trying to tell his dad the story.

"You two." Bethany shook her head but widened her eyes as John unwrapped the top piece, and a gloating Justin carried the sturdy base to the backyard.

*

"IT DOESN'T HAVE to be like the essay," Ethan whispered in the dark.

"No?" Justin asked as Ethan rolled over and faced him. "The first time I kissed you didn't go so well."

"Try it again."

And Justin leaned in and pressed his lips to Ethan's, cautious, careful, then pulled back. "Tell me what to do so you don't panic."

Justin let his body be moved beneath Ethan's touch as he rolled him to his back, and Ethan crawled over him.

"Like this," Ethan said, and Justin nodded as Ethan bent down.

"You are in control here, Ethan," Justin whispered. "Stop, keep going. It's all up to you. That's why it worked out the times before, isn't it? You were in control."

Ethan nodded as Justin slid his hands up to the headboard and gripped them there, clearly giving Ethan the reins and full access. Ethan pressed his lips to Justin's again, and Justin opened his mouth when Ethan encouraged it, letting him set the pace for every move.