Page 12

As the man lapped him, he slowed down a moment and turned to nod at Tyler with a gentle smile that made Tyler’s heart stutter. Graceful and confident as an ancient warrior, the kind of hero kids try to impersonate on playgrounds. Perfection. The sudden rush of attraction took him by surprise.

Tyler smiled back as he passed and then dropped his eyes. That guy was familiar. Who was he?

And so beautiful. Like, catch-your-breath, stop-your-heart gorgeous. Perfect balanced strength. For a moment Tyler felt humiliated by his own hulking physique and crappy form. His body was a tank designed for rough combat.

The sun had begun to cast long shadows over the dew-silvered grass. Running like this felt good, right. He was weak, but not as weak as he’d feared. The gorgeous guy almost felt like a sign.

This was a good thing he was doing. Thank you, Dr. Reynolds.

When Tyler looked up again, his silent companion had moved ahead steadily with aggressive focus. He couldn’t help but be drawn to this guy; it was the first time he’d felt any arousal or even social interest since his heart attack. Tyler let his eyes linger with hollow longing on the muscular legs and the perfect V of his back, bisected by a stripe of healthy sweat.

He felt certain he recognized the guy. But from where? A player on another pro team? An actor or a model? How could anyone with that physique end up out in the middle of Nowhere, California, at this time of year? He knew that jaw, that nose, that face.

And then it hit him.

“Josh?” Tyler said out loud, with a rush of recognition that made him smile to himself. “Josh… umm. Ames? Aaron?” Just barely, he recalled the gangly boy from Nadia’s high school class, so shy he stuttered. “Ayres. Joshua Ayres.” Skinny as a fence post with hand-me-down clothes and huge damp eyes. Cute for sure, but so nervous.

“Damn.” A soft chuckle as Tyler watched grown-up Josh’s glorious butt pulling away from him. “Josh Ayres.”

He’d been one of the nerdy football groupies that hung around practices and came to away games no matter how far. They hadn’t known each other at all, for all the dumb adolescent reasons.

Early on, Tyler’s buddies had pegged Josh as a “homo” lurking at the back of the bleachers because of his intense eyes. Even before that, Tyler had noticed Josh’s hopeful stare and steered clear of him to protect them both.

Tyler didn’t even know if Josh was gay, but as a junior, the last thing he’d needed was rumors dogging him when college scouts visited. Nowadays, who cared? But back then, Tyler had known the only way he’d ever make the NFL was inside a rock-solid closet with multiple locks.

Nadia had known Josh a bit, if memory served. From… drama or math? Something foofy like that. Tyler couldn’t recall. Some terrifying subject cooler and smarter than Tyler was, for sure. Like Josh. One of the nerds who did their homework and used the library for more than whacking off between classes. “Holy shit.”

Nowadays libraries and smarts made Tyler’s heart go pitty-pat… and the way Josh looked in those shorts would most likely keep him up at night for the foreseeable future. Jesus crickets. Little Josh, all buffed up and ready for thirst traps.

He sure had blossomed. Tyler hoped he hadn’t been too gross or rude to him, back in the day.

Being in Nadia’s class meant Josh Ayres had to be two years younger, at least. Somewhere around thirty, maybe? Tyler tried to recall specific moments or a single conversation they’d shared back then, but all he could summon were hazy impressions of laughter and distant jeering, the ugly edges of teenage social hierarchies that made him feel like a closeted homophobic dick after the fact.

They’d probably never spoken a single word. Dumbass.

Tyler’s breath hitched slightly as he envisioned the younger, weaker Josh 1.0, a knobbly teen with smudgy glasses clutching books to his chest and hunching his shoulders to make himself invisible to the predatory jerks who roamed the halls. Tyler’s douchebag friends, most of them. Ugh.

Man, I should’ve been friendlier back then. Kinder, Tyler mused, his breath coming in short bursts as he strained to maintain his pace. Everything had seemed scarier then. He’d fought his own battles. The realization stung, sharpening his resolve to make amends, albeit years later, and gave him a renewed resolve.

He knew Nadia would smack him and say, “And that is what we call privilege, doofus.” Tyler felt that truth in his aching bones. In high school he’d been determined to save himself and his family. Football or nothing, feelings be damned.

His gaze kept darting to Josh, and he took in the smooth lines of his sweat-slicked legs propelling him forward, the sunlight catching his dark blond hair, the line of his throat, and the teasing swell in his coach’s shorts. The years had blessed Josh mightily.

The sky blazed up peach and rose as they continued running in parallel. A newfound sense of lust and curiosity stirred within him for the first time in months. A rush of heat coursed through his body, catching him off guard and making him feel alive again. Though he didn’t dare admit it, even to himself, the sensation of attraction and the stirrings of arousal brought a mixture of embarrassment and pride—a reminder that his libido hadn’t been busted along with his heart.

The realization sent a jolt through Tyler, awakening long-dormant feelings of desire and anticipation.

Tyler didn’t even fight the smile on his face.

To think he was now a virtual invalid who could barely drag himself off the couch, and that anxious, wimpy chess-club string bean had evolved into the rugged hunk currently stirring his loins and lapping him. Payback for the homecoming king. Tyler felt about two feet tall and ugly.

He snuck another long glance at those perfect arms, the square jaw. “Jeez.”

He couldn’t help but be fascinated by the transformation that had taken place in Josh over the years, the way his once scrawny frame had grown into sculpted muscle, how his tawny skin caught the rising sun.

As they circled the track, Tyler and Josh maintained a comfortable silence, their breaths and footsteps syncing. Josh might be running about twice his speed, but having him there definitely kept Tyler motivated, which was no bad thing.

Plus, the shared quiet was a balm to Tyler’s soul, allowing him to focus on the steady rhythms of his body and the easy company of someone who seemed to understand the luminous miracle of this time of day. What was the opposite of panic? Who needed three-three-three when you were suddenly seeing, hearing, moving everything right now on this track under this perfect sunrise?