Eleven Tanner

Ever since that night at the Chinese restaurant, things had been a lot easier. The start of May brought warmer days full of sunshine, and the real estate market was heating up. I'd been spending most of my days fielding phone calls and showing houses, not leaving much time for anything else. Thanks to Wyatt, I'd already listed several high-dollar homes in the area, and I stood to make a damn good commission if I could get them sold. If all of them went through, I'd be making more than I did at my dad's business. I was starting to think that maybe Ludington was good for me.

Of course, it was also nice to come home each night with a friend and someone I could talk to. Wyatt had really warmed up to me after that night, and we'd become fast friends. It turned out he and I had a nearly identical childhood story. Both of them were cut short by greedy fathers who wanted free labor. I wasn't the biggest fan of trauma bonding, but it was mostly just nice to talk to someone who understood where I was coming from. People liked to say they knew what you meant, but Wyatt had lived it. Out of everyone he actually knew.

Nights were filled with long talks, take out, and sometimes a walk on the beach. Wyatt knew Ludington like the back of his hand, and he showed me around. I'd never seen Lake Michigan from this side before, but I could see why everyone was so enamored with it. Chicago was a concrete jungle where only the super-rich could afford to enjoy the lake. But here in small-town Michigan, everyone got to experience the majesty of the lake.

And that's where I found myself once more with Wyatt at my side. We were both perched on top of a small sand dune, staring out over the lake as the sun sunk toward the horizon. I pulled my arms out of their sleeves, holding them close to my body inside the hoodie. The wind coming off the lake was cold, but the sunset was too beautiful to turn away from. I'd never seen anything like it before.

Of course, it wasn't lost on me that I was sitting next to a very attractive man who definitely still had the hots for me, try as he might to conceal it. A part of me reveled in the attention, but I knew it was tearing him apart. Each time I looked into those deep blue eyes, I saw the struggle beneath the surface. He was terrified of how he felt. Up until a couple of months ago, he'd considered himself straight with a capital S. And now his entire life had been thrown into turmoil because of a single night with me.

Mostly, I felt bad for him. I'd known I was gay from a very young age, and although coming out to my parents had been difficult, I didn't have to rebuild my sense of self from the ground up. Wyatt, on the other hand, had built an entire life around who he was. Now that his foundation was gone, I could tell he was struggling to figure himself out. Each time he forced out a stereotypical straight-guy statement, I felt my heart break. I wanted to reach out and hug him, to hold him close and assure him that everything was going to be okay. But then again, it was me who placed him firmly in friend territory. I didn't want to be the cause of more confusion, and I definitely didn't want to be left behind when he got overwhelmed or, worse, outed.

No. It was best to keep our hearts separate. Besides, I had to go home after the summer to run the family business, and he had to do the same here. We couldn't both lead our lives from one place. There was no future I could see where we could be together. A summer fling could be fun, but we both knew such a thing would lead to feelings all too easily. We had too much in common not to fall in love.

Love. I heard myself scoff under my breath as I tore my eyes away from the sunset. My imagination was really blowing things out of proportion. Daydreaming about such things was cute in movies, but pining after something that could never be only made me feel pathetic. I needed to get a fucking grip.

"You okay?" Wyatt asked, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're scowling really hard right now."

"I am?" I asked, glancing over at him. I made a conscious effort to relax my brow. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Must have been bad, whatever it was."

"Just stress," I half-lied. "I've got a lot on my mind lately."

"Anything I can help with?"

I shook my head. There he went again, saying the sweetest fucking thing imaginable without realizing it. It made it hard to resist the pull between us.

"No," I sighed. "I'm fine. Really."

He nodded, turning back to the sunset. I followed his gaze, taking in the bright oranges and golds splashed across the sky. Bright reflections caught the water and sparkled, the dull roar of the waves crashing against the shore filling my ears. Wyatt shifted next to me, pulling his knees up toward his chest and resting his elbows on his legs.

"Tanner?"

"Yeah?"

"Can… Can I tell you a secret?"

I turned to face him once more, a look of confusion rippling across my face. He sat there with his chin balanced on his forearms, looking nervous as all get out. It wasn't like him to be so vulnerable.

"Sure."

"Promise you won't get weirded out?"

"I will do my best."

My heart quickened because I knew the secret was about me. I sat there in the cold sand, my hands wrapped around my shivering torso as I waited for him to confess his feelings to me. I'd literally just finished explaining to myself why we couldn't be together, and there I was, terrified and elated that he was about to tell me that he liked me. What the fuck was wrong with me?

"Do you believe in paranormal stuff?"

All my hopes and ego came crashing down around me. I shook my head, the harshness of that reality check setting in. Maybe I wasn't as irresistible as I thought.

"You mean… like ghosts and stuff?"

"Or cryptids or vampires… or werewolves."

"Werewolves?" I couldn't help but smile. "Do you believe in them?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Then why did you ask?" I leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze. "What does this have to do with your secret?"

He sat there for a long moment in silence, his eyes darting back and forth. At last, he took a deep breath and looked up at me.

"You know I like you, right?"

I was a bit taken aback. His sudden shifts in the topic were giving me whiplash. Summoning up my courage, I gave him a single nod.

"Well… I can't get you out of my head," he said, the floodgates spilling open. "And I know why it's happening, but I don't think you'll understand it. My family is a bit different than yours, and I don't want you to be freaked out, but there's stuff you need to know about me. I don't think I can get over you, but I'm afraid if I tell you, you'll think I'm crazy, or you'll run away, and I don't want that to happen." He was almost on the edge of tears. "I'm not expecting you to date me or help me figure out whatever the fuck is going on inside my head, but I feel like if I don't tell you soon, I'm going to burst."

I nodded, trying to take in the sudden rush of information. "You don't have to say all this, Wyatt," I said slowly. "I know it's confusing for you right now, so just take your time."

"No," he replied. "I've been holding too much of this back, and I have to get it out." He pushed himself to his feet, looking up and down the beach. "There's something I have to show you, but I can't do it here."

"Wyatt… " I was getting a little concerned. "Where is this going?"

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "I won't even touch you. You have my solemn promise, dude. I just… I have to do this." He started toward the pavilion on the far side of the beach. "Just stay here. I'll be back in a little while, okay?"

I sat there in the sand, watching him jog across the beach. There was nothing to explain his sudden frantic admissions. What did he mean by his family being different? Were they part of the mob or something? I was from Chicago, so that wasn't a completely new concept for me, but I doubted the Trombleys were into anything too serious. I wracked my brain, trying to come up with an explanation, but the only thing I kept coming back to was his sudden confession about liking me. And I couldn't let it go.

My cheeks were still warm, and the butterflies in my stomach hadn't stopped churning. My mind told me I needed to let it go, that I should talk him out of liking me. But my heart and my body, well, they thought otherwise. There was a warmth that spread across my chest, down my spine, and pooled in my groin. It was the first time a confession like that had ever given me a boner, and I found that somewhat concerning.

A minute passed as I stewed in my own thoughts. Then another. I was starting to get a little bit concerned. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and while there were still a few local photographers snapping images, the majority of everyone near the beach had gone. I pushed myself to a standing position, working my arms back through their sleeves. I was about to head for the pavilion to check on Wyatt when a shape to my left caught my attention.

There was a dog… a big dog, sitting just a few feet away. He looked up at me, his head cocked to the side. I couldn't tell if it was just the sunset light, but he looked almost ginger, like one of those red-ish Huskies, but darker. He was beautiful.

"Are you nice?" I asked timidly, holding out a hand.

Dropping his tail between his legs, the dog slowly inched forward until his nose met my hand. It was cold and wet, but he didn't bite. I reached up between his ears, giving his head a good ruffle. With each passing second, he perked up a little bit more, his tail starting to wag as he pushed himself into my arms and licked my cheek.

"Okay, okay!" I laughed, unable to help myself. "You're friendly, I get it." I grabbed him by the cheeks, ruffling him more as I looked up and down the beach. "Where's your owner?"

He whined.

"How about we look for them, huh?"

The dog just sat there, happy for the attention. Pushing myself up, I patted the side of my leg, gesturing for him to follow.

For the next twenty minutes, we walked up and down the beach, going to each end and back again. Not a single person showed interest in us. More than a few made a wide berth because, after all, he was a massive dog. I'd never seen a breed as big as him except maybe a Great Dane, but he definitely wasn't that. He looked kind of wolf-ish, and I figured he had to be some sort of Husky mix.

"I don't know what to tell you, buddy," I said, talking to the dog as if he understood me. "There's nobody here looking for you."

He just sat there, wagging his tail in the sand. I couldn't help but smile. I loved dogs. Like really loved dogs. My parents never let me have pets because I was far too busy being put to work by them. I didn't have time for one. But I was on my own now, and there was one sitting right in front of me.

"I suppose I could take you back with me and put up posters tomorrow or something. I'm sure someone is looking for you." I sighed to myself. "I'm sure Wyatt isn't going to like this."

The dog sneezed.

"You're right. One day won't hurt him." Another sigh as I turned back toward the pavilion in the gathering darkness. "Besides, I'm pretty sure he ran off again and left me out here. I didn't see him anywhere." I patted the side of my leg again. "Come on then. He's got his own key. He'll come home eventually, I guess."

With that, the strange dog and I started back toward the apartment. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks because I didn't have a leash. I spent the first few minutes worried that he'd run off, but like a faithfully trained hound, he kept at my side the entire time. I made sure to keep out of the light as much as possible, worried that such a large creature might inspire a call to the police.

But we made it back to the apartment without any issues. I let him inside and pulled the door closed behind me before kicking off my sandy shoes. The warmth of the apartment was a welcome relief as I pulled off my hoodie.

"I don't have any food for you," I said, patting the dog sitting in front of me. "I can't imagine dogs like leftover Chinese. You might have to wait until tomorrow for a proper meal, buddy."

He followed me as I headed toward the bedroom. Before I could do anything, he slipped through the door and hopped up on my bed, making himself comfortable.

"Hey!" I cried, pretending to be upset. "That's mine!" I walked over, poking him in the nose with a threatening finger. "You better not have fleas."

He huffed through his lips.

I couldn't help but laugh. "It's almost like you can understand me."

Turning back, I went to the door and pushed it closed, not wanting him to get into anything during the night. Returning to the bed, I sat down beside him, stroking the top of his head.

"Getting along with you is easy," I said, already using the dog as my personal therapist. "I wish it was that easy with Wyatt… or anyone for that matter." I sighed again, falling onto my back on the soft comforter. "I won't lie to you. I'm getting a bit tired of being lonely all the time. As pathetic as that sounds."

There was a single lick on my cheek before the dog curled up beside me and laid his head across my chest.

"Thanks, buddy," I smiled, the sudden warmth of his body making me feel sleepy. "You seem like a good boy."

His tail immediately began swiping back and forth across the sheets, and I smiled again.

I'd always wanted a dog.