Page 100 of Point of Contact

As Trevor chopped, Jesse told him a little about Watty and Sami, leaving out Watty’s connection to Riley. “He needs to keep busy, so at some point I’ll be taking a few days to go camping with him and maybe a couple of our other buddies.”

Trevor handed him a set of wire skewers, instructing Jesse to thread the bite-size pieces of vegetables onto them. “I’d imagine that’ll be cathartic for all of you.” He didn’t look at Jesse as he said casually, “You know, I’d love to meet them someday. Your teammates, the ones not at the party.”

Pausing in the act of spearing a piece of red pepper, Jesse swallowed hard, remembering Watty’s horror when he thought Jesse was suggesting that very thing. “Uh...”

“Only if they want to,” Trevor went on perceptively. “And I won’t be asking any of the hard questions. I’ve made my peace with that part of it. I’d just love to put some more faces to the names Riley used to mention on the phone, that’s all.”

At that Jesse got up from his stool and slid his arms around Trevor’s waist. “I promise I’ll mention it,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss behind Trevor’s ear.

Trevor leaned back against him with a tiny sigh, and they cuddled for a moment until Trevor pointed his knife at the half-finished skewers. “Veggies,” he ordered. Jesse let go of him with a show of reluctance, dragging his hands along Trevor’s bare belly and giving one ass cheek a smack as he moved away.

“Yes, sir.”

While Jesse threaded skewers diligently, Trevor headed out to preheat the grill. Finally finishing the last of the kebabs, he put them all on a plate and carried them out to Trevor, who was leaning against the bar, glass of wine in hand.

“Thanks, honey.” Trevor took the veggies from him, and Jesse couldn’t resist leaning in for a kiss.

He perched at the bistro table with his own wine, watching Trevor move back and forth from kitchen to grill, the mouthwatering smell of steaks soon filling the air. Trevor brought out some plates and silverware so Jesse set the table, topping off their glasses just as Trevor slid the meat onto a platter alongside the skewers.

As they ate, they chatted about favorite movies and TV shows, Jesse raising his eyebrows when Trevor confessed an affinity for raunchy sex comedies.

“I’d never have guessed,” Jesse teased, enjoying the flush on Trevor’s cheeks.

“Why? Because I’m old, and I should be watching ‘Masterpiece Theatre’ or some shit like that? I like American Pie!”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” Jesse stroked Trevor’s calf under the table with his bare foot. “I love it.”

“What’s your guilty pleasure?” Trevor asked challengingly, narrowing his eyes.

Jesse shrugged. “What’s any closeted gay boy’s guilty pleasure? Gay porn.”

“Oh, yeah?” Trevor sat back in his chair and gazed at Jesse over the rim of his wineglass. “What’s your favorite type of scene?”

“Um, a sex scene?”

Trevor rolled his eyes, and Jesse laughed. “Seriously. I just want to watch two men fuck. I’m not that discerning.” He paused. “I didn’t get to watch it all that often anyway, since I was hardly ever alone and also terrified of one of the guys finding out, seeing it in my history or whatever.”

“I can’t even imagine that kind of stress, and I’ve been out almost my entire life. There were times that it wasn’t easy, of course, but not anything like what you had to deal with.”

Jesse twirled his wineglass between his palms. “That’s why I reacted the way I did the night of the party, you know? Seeing what I wanted but couldn’t have, all up in my face like that. It made me sad and angry, and the alcohol didn’t help.”

Sighing, Trevor put his own glass down. “We were such different people back then, weren’t we?”

There was a short silence as they both pondered the rhetorical question, and Jesse rubbed his foot over the top of Trevor’s.

“Why did you get into accounting? Was that like your life’s ambition or something?”

Trevor snorted. “Hardly. When Riley was a baby I got a job as a bank teller, and I found that I really enjoyed the precision of numbers, the black and white of it. I mean, your drawer either balanced or it didn’t. There was a...kind of beauty to it, a simplicity.”

Jesse thought of a young Trevor, crushed under the weight of responsibility and uncertainty, finding comfort in that simplicity.

“When Riley started school and my aunt had her days free again, I took college classes in the evening. Eventually I got my degree, my CPA, and started my own business.” Trevor reached for the bottle and trickled the last little bit of wine into his glass, swirling it around. “After Riley died, I farmed most of my clients out to colleagues. I kept a couple, the ones who are friends more than clients, you know? I knew they’d be patient, understanding, and I’d done their work for years so it wasn’t like it was too taxing.” He shrugged. “The rest are lost to me now, and the thought of starting over...”

“What are you going to do?”

Trevor gazed around the backyard. “I’m going to use some of Riley’s SGLI to pay off the house. He loved this house, and he’d want that, I think. I’ll invest some of the remainder, and like I said before, I want to put some of it to work helping veterans and their families.”

“Sounds like you’ve really thought it through.”