Chapter Eleven

R ye wasn’t sure what compelled him to call Cutter. Probably nothing good could come of it, but the idea of a bike ride around Zilker park sounded fun. Who was he fooling? Anything that didn’t involve being around Kristen sounded like fun.

His damn cheek still hurt. She’s drawn blood when she smacked him with that stupid, ostentatious ring she wore. The one he’d bought her and now regretted. Things had gone too far. He was done. He had to find a way to extricate himself from the relationship, and the sooner the better. It was simply a matter of figuring out how. In the meantime, a bike ride with a sexy trainer was perfectly harmless, right?

Sexy. Where did that come from? Sure, Cutter was an attractive guy, at least if one was into guys. But Rye wasn’t, and the whole thing was weird. Except he liked Cutter, and right now, more than anything, he needed a friend.

“Do you ride this trail often?” Rye asked as they got on the bike path just off of Cutter’s street.

“When I have time. Like you said, there’s not much of that. At least not during football season.”

“No,” Rye agreed. “It was nice to play on Thursday this week and get the win so I have a weekend off.”

“It’s a tough schedule for sure.” Cutter moved slightly ahead of him, and Rye found himself admiring the trainer’s ass. “You guys work so hard.”

“So do you,” Rye said. “We all appreciate you. The whole medical staff.”

“It’s no problem.” Cutter continued to pedal, and Rye moved beside him. “Do you like tacos? My family’s food truck is selling at the festival in the park today.”

“I love tacos.” He didn’t realize Cutter’s family operated a food truck. “What’s the name?”

“Hernandez Taqueria,” Cutter said. “It’s my mami and papa who run the truck, along with my sister, Leticia.”

“I think I know the name. I’ve probably had their tacos a few times.”

“We appreciate the support. My family hopes to one day open a restaurant.”

“I hope that happens,” Rye said. “If we’re talking about the same tacos, they’re amazing.”

They continued to cycle, enjoying casual conversation as they rode. This was exactly what Rye needed. No stress. Everything about living with Kristen these days was stress, and it was taking a toll on his mental and physical health.

“The food truck is down this way, maybe a half mile or so,” Cutter said. “In the main part of the park, if you want to stop?”

“Sure.” They’d been riding for a while, and a food break sounded good. “Lead the way.”

Rye hadn’t realized there was a food truck festival going on in the park, but the timing worked out. After Kristen’s tirade, he was in a hurry to get out of the house. The heck with eating lunch and watching some football. If he stayed in the house with her any longer, Rye feared he might do something he might regret.

Did she regret slapping him, or did the drugs have so much of a hold on her that it barely even registered what she had done? Rye wanted to believe she realized it and regretted it. Hopefully, it tore at her, at least a little bit. But he couldn’t be sure. Kristen hadn’t been the woman he’d fallen in love with for a very long time.

“We can stop here,” Cutter suggested, easing his bike to a stop. “The truck is right down there.” He pointed to the center of the park, where several food trucks were set up. “We can park the bikes next to it. Hopefully we’ll be able to find a table nearby. Otherwise, my sister can keep an eye on them.”

They got off and walked the bikes down the path to the food truck, where a young woman waved at them and came out the side door of the truck. “Caesar! I didn’t know you were coming by today,” she said. “And bringing a friend,” she added, with a smile in Rye’s direction.

“Spur of the moment,” Cutter said. “Leti, this is Ryeland Lenhart. Rye, my baby sister, Leticia.”

“I am no baby,” the young woman protested. “A pleasure to meet you.” She pointed to an empty table. “Have a seat. I’ll bring you tacos. What kind do you like, Rye?”

“I’ll let you choose,” Rye said. “Whatever your favorites are. I haven’t met too many tacos I don’t like.”

Leticia smiled. “Ah, you’re my kind of man. Sit. I’ll bring you food in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Leti,” Cutter said. The parked their bikes beside the truck and walked to the nearby picnic table.

“I didn’t realize your real name is Caesar,” Rye said as they sat down.

“Yep. Most everyone calls me Cutter, though.”

“How did you get the nickname?”

“I have Leti to thank for that,” Cutter said. “When we were younger, and she was first learning to talk, both in English and Spanish, the way she said my name, Ceasar, with the Spanish pronunciation, sounded like English word, ‘scissor.’ You know, like you cut with.”

“Cutter.” Rye chuckled. “I like it. It suits you.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Cutter said. “I’m glad you called, too. I was planning to ride down here, anyway, but it’s good to have some company.”

“Yeah,” Rye said. “I, um, needed to get out of the house.”

Cutter gave him a look, as if he hoped Rye would expand on that, or he wanted to ask questions. Neither of which Rye was ready for. Fortunately, Leticia chose the perfect moment to approach the table, her hands full of tacos in little paper boats.

“ Gracias .” Rye tried out his very limited Spanish as Cutter’s sister, set the paper boats of tacos on the table.

“You speak Spanish?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rye shook his head. “’Fraid not. That’s pretty much the extent of my Spanish right there.” Okay, he could order beer, too. Beyond that, nothing. He was somewhat embarrassed to have lived his entire life in Austin or Los Angeles and to speak so little Spanish. If this... whatever it was that was developing between himself and Cutter turned into anything, he would have to make a point to learn more Spanish. For now, he was stuck listening to a conversation between Cutter and his sister and not understanding a word.

“ Tu novio es simpático. Lindo también ,” Leti said to Cutter.

“ él no es mi novio ,” Cutter replied, his cheeks reddening.

Leti chuckled. “ Si tú lo dices .”

As Cutter’s sister walked away, Rye picked up one of his tacos and unwrapped it. “What was all that about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Cutter’s face broke out in a grin that Rye had to admit was sexy as hell. “She just said my boyfriend is nice. And cute.”

“Ah, okay,” Rye said. “I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.” Then it set in. Leticia thought he was Cutter’s boyfriend. There was part of him that kind of liked that idea, while another part of him was terrified. “Cutter...”

“Relax. I told her you aren’t my boyfriend.”

“Okay. Good.” Then, “Did she believe you?”

Cutter laughed as he shook his head. “Not at all,” he admitted. “It’s all right, though. Leti’s cool.”

“I hope so.” Rye had to admit she seemed to be. “So, your family knows? That you’re into guys?” Pretty much everyone on the team knew, just like they knew Doc Rosie was married to a woman, and several players on the team were out. It was cool, and everyone accepted it.

“No. No one besides Leti knows,” Cutter explained. “I came out to her a few years ago. Mostly because we were crushing on the same guy, so I thought it would be better if she knew she had competition.”

Rye laughed. “I suppose.” He took another bite of his taco. The sauce was spicy, but he liked it that way. “Who won?”

“She did. My gaydar failed me on that one.” He shrugged. “It turned out he wasn’t much of a prize, though.”

“Maybe you won, then.”

“Right.” Cutter nodded in the direction of the Rye’s food. “You like it?”

“Delicious,” Rye said. He took a drink of water and found himself hoping the Hernandez family was able to open the restaurant they dreamed of, because as good as the tacos were, they would be a lot better paired with a beer. “Gaydar. Is that really a thing? Or a myth?”

Cutter appeared to think about that as he munched on his own taco. “Probably a bit of both, but usually I’m pretty good at telling,” he said. “I like to think so, anyway.”

“Hmm. What was your gaydar saying about me, then?” Rye asked.

“Not much,” Cutter replied. “Maybe because I was so used to seeing you with Kristen that it was never a consideration.”

“Aren’t some guys in denial, though? And like to flaunt their beautiful women?” Rye didn’t think that’s what he’d been doing, but then again, everything in his life was a confusing mess these days.

“Sure,” Cutter said. “I’m just saying you didn’t ping anything. Well, until last week, when you were on the training table, and... never mind.”

Rye could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. “Yeah. That... was unexpected,” he said. “And your questions—”

“Made you uncomfortable,” Cutter said. “Got it. Water under the bridge, and all that.”

Rye wished it was that easy. “Things at home aren’t great,” he said. “With Kristen. We’re having some problems. That’s why the questions hit a little too close to home, and why I was a bit of a jerk.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Cutter said. “If you want to talk about it... your relationship issues... we can. Or I can back off.”

Part of Rye wanted to talk about it, but the other part of him was too embarrassed. How was he supposed to admit his fiancée was a drug addict who likes to slap him around. “Maybe back off, at least on the relationship questions.”

“Got it. I’ll back off,” Cutter assured him.

“Thank you,” Rye said. “But Cutter?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s something you should know...” Rye allowed his voice to trail off as he considered the best way to say thus. “You’re not the first man my body has responded to that way.”

“Okay...”

“My roommate at UT, way back in the day, we, um... did some things.” He’d never told anyone before, but it was time. He needed to be honest with Cutter, and more importantly, with himself. “We never went all the way. Nothing like that. But we kissed sometimes and touched each other.”

Rye recalled he always liked it when Max touched him, or he touched Max. At least until Max got all weird about it, like it was suddenly wrong, even though he’d been the one who started it. “I suppose I wondered back then if I might be bi or something, but then there was never anyone else. I never experienced any attraction or got turned on by another guy, so then I dismissed it as just two young guys experimenting,” he explained. “Until the training room, when your hands when on my back, and... well, anyway.” He cut himself off before he turned bright red. “I... um, just thought you should know.”

~&~

“I see,” Cutter said, his mind racing. “I’m glad you told me.” Very, very glad, because even though he knew Rye’s personal life was difficult now, and while he was careful not to presume anything about was happening between them, simply hearing that Rye had experienced attraction to another man before—even if he’d been an inexperienced college kid at the time—gave him hope. Maybe if Rye worked up the courage to leave Kristen, he might be receptive to exploring the attraction developing between them.

And maybe you’re a delusional idiot , the insecure voice inside Cutter’s head said. Rye would probably never leave Kristen. Even in a progressive and progressively weird town like Austin, where the Troopers fans embraced the team’s out players, Rye’s reputation and super star status was bolstered by having a supermodel fiancée. Not leaving her for the team’s Latino athletic trainer.

“I want to be honest with you,” Rye continued. “I don’t want to be a jerk about this.”

“I don’t think you’re being a jerk.” Not anymore, anyway. “Like I said, I know it’s difficult. You have a long history with Kristen, and I’m sure some of it’s been very good.”

“A lot of it has been great,” Rye said, running a hand through his hair. “I still think about those days. I have those memories. And yeah, I wonder if we can get back to that.”

Cutter nodded, trying to show that he got it. He understood. Even if he hated this, and he wished Rye would realize that if he stayed with Kristen, it probably wouldn’t get better. In fact, it might even get worse. He remembered Rosie’s cautionary words, though, and knew he had to be careful.

“At the same time, I like you. I enjoy the time we’ve spent together, and not only because it gets me away from Kris and all her issues. It’s comfortable. Easy,” Rye continued. “No drama.”

“That’s good. I don’t want to create drama in your life.” He knew Rye had enough of that, and he wanted to be a friend. Yes, he wanted more. But for now, Cutter could simply be a friend.

“I appreciate that. I’ve had enough drama to last quite a while.” Rye didn’t offer specifics, instead taking a long drink from his water bottle. He set it down and wiped his hand across his mouth. “I’m not sure where things are going with Kris. I just know it’s not good right now.”

The news was both revealing and frustrating for Cutter, and on top of how sexy Rye looked as he drank water—seriously, he had it bad if he thought watching Rye drink water was hot—he needed to get things under control. Rye admitting there were problems in his relationship didn’t mean it was an abusive relationship, nor did it mean that Rye was leaving Kristen, much less that he wanted to date Cutter. Talk about jumping to conclusions.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cutter said. “You’ve got a friend if you need one.”

“I do, and I appreciate that,” Rye said. “I like you, Caesar ‘Cutter’ Hernandez. Thanks for listening, and for being my friend.”