Page 8 of Josh’s Play

He reached between his legs to adjust the seat, and I had to look away, the need to seat myself back on my bike more a distraction than anything. He watched the professor leave, and I watched him, his features soft and relaxed as he eased into a rhythm on the bike. He swung my way and caught me looking, but what harm could it do?

He seemed okay, if a little flustered, with the gay thing, and I wasn’t one to shy away from making my feelings known.

Besides, despite the fact that I had now run into him twice in one day, Campbell Ryan and I did not run in the same circles. I’d probably not be seeing him again.

“How’s the ankle feeling?” I asked, but he didn’t answer, staring at me instead. I watched as his gaze traveled the length of my body, feeling slightly self-conscious seated in the same position and performing the same exercise as a tall, beefy, elite athlete. Our eyes met, but he didn’t respond for a few beats.

“You should come to my party. The team’s all back, so it should be a good one.” Campbell’s eyes opened wide, like he’d surprised himself with his non-answer to my question.

I didn’t answer straightaway, and before I could, Hunter was in front of me. “Hey.” He gave a chin nod to Campbell in lieu of apologizing for interrupting, and when did my baby brother get so cool? To me he said, “You good? I’m gonna do a few minutes on the treadmill.”

“Lucky bastard,” I joked, making a point of speeding up my peddling. “Yeah, I’m all good. How’s your shoulder feeling?”

He rotated it. “All good,” he mimicked before turning and taking over the treadmill I wouldn’t let Campbell use.

“Is that your …” Campbell couldn’t finish his own sentence, and it took me a beat to catch on.

“That’s just my brother.”

“The guy getting his master’s?” Campbell sounded incredulous and with good reason. Hunter was still a teenager and looked the part even with his air of jock coolness.

I chuckled. “No, different brother.” I leaned in. “I have lots of brothers. That’s Hunter.” I nodded toward the row of treadmills. “He’s still in high school. My older brother Vance is the writer. There are three more brothers and a sister in our family as well.”

“Wow, that's a big family. I have two little brothers. One in middle school and one in high school. So he’s obviously not your boyfriend, or whatever. What about your roommate?”

“Devon” I laughed. Devon was gay, too, but he and I had never been anything but friends. “Nah, man, he’s my best friend. It’d be too weird, like fucking your brother or something.” I gave a performative shiver that had Campbell smiling at me, that big, charming, enticing smile.

“What about you? Do you have a girlfriend? A sweet, small-town girl back home? Or some hockey fan you met here? No, let me guess, you’re one of those ‘girl in every port’ kinda guys, with a list in your phone to remind you of the girl you met in whatever town the team finds themselves in.”

I was trying to joke, but Campbell looked serious. “Nah, that’s not me. I guess I’m more of a loner. I do actually live in a small town.” Oops. “There was a girl back home, but we didn’t go out for very long. She stayed there and married a guy who graduated a few years before us.” He shrugged.

“Well, maybe Diane’s your one true love.”

“Diane?” Campbell questioned, making me think I’d gotten the name wrong.

“Your PT? The one who took my mom’s class? Did I get it wrong; I thought her name was Diane?” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Campbell said distractedly, suddenly focusing on his feet as they circled in front of him. “She’s cute, isn’t she?” His gaze shot back up to me quickly, and I felt like he’d caught me staring again. With a nervous laugh, he apologized. ”I guess I’m asking the wrong guy, huh?”

“I may be gay, dude, but I’m not blind. Fuck yeah, Diane is cute.” I hoped that throwing in a dude and a fuck yeah would help Campbell feel comfortable because the conversation had gotten strangely awkward there for a minute. He just nodded and went back to staring at his feet.

“Maybe she’ll come to the party,” he mumbled. “But you should come too. Not much going on since school hasn’t started, right? What’d ya say?” His resolve strengthened, and he reached out a hand. “Here, give me your phone.”

I hesitated, thinking about how I’d been looking him up before he walked in. He felt the need to explain. “I don’t want you to have to type.” He waved his perfectly functional left hand at me. “I’ll give you my number and grab yours. I can text you the address of the Hockey House. You should come.” He said that last part like it was a question, but was the question for me or for himself? More resolved, he finished, “It’ll be fun.”

I unlocked my phone and deleted a few web browser pages before handing it over to him. When he returned it, I had a new text message.

59: Hockey House, Friday night. See u there, Frankenstein.

A second text followed with a street address that I knew to be near campus.

I leaned toward him, and he leaned in so close that I pulled back an inch. “Sorry, Fifty-Nine, but my parents both teach literature here, so I’m gonna have to be that guy. Frankenstein is the doctor. This”—I raised my left hand—“this is Frankenstein’s monster.”

“Oh, you’re a monster, all right.” We were laughing and leaning, and I was smelling citrus and spice, and it was all very confusing.

Chapter Four

Campbell