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Javier wondered if Zach had heard those rumors. He'd have known they were bullshit right off the bat, and he probably would have made some disgusted face. He mentally dared him to say a word about it. Whichever Hollywood big shot he'd hooked up with probably knew all about Minika, too. That was a different business and a whole different life. Javier had worried that Zach might come out after he'd left Portland. It could still be a career-ender, and Javier had told himself that he was concerned for Zach on that score. In reality, he'd been worried that any declaration of homosexuality, hell, any subtle hint, might point a finger at himself. The more models Javier went out with, the better.
The night wasn't as tense as Javier had expected it to be. He spent most of his time sitting with Chris, watching the guy check his phone every few minutes, in between watching the west coast game on the bar's television.
"You look like you're waiting for a bomb to go off. Put that thing away," Javier only partially joked. He hated the way some people were attached to their phones.
On the other hand, he knew exactly whose call Chris was waiting for. The pitcher slipped the phone in his pocket and grimaced. "I know, it's rude. I'm supposed to be out celebrating our win. But I just can't wait to get home to her."
"Home to her? You guys living together now?" Javier raised an eyebrow.
"Not... officially." Chris looked away guiltily. "We're still being discreet.”
He jumped up and pulled the phone back out. The screen was flashing, and his ringtone was almost audible over the chatter of the bar. "I'll be right back."
He watched Chris head off toward the back door, a finger in his ear as he shouted, "Hang on, babe, I've got to find somewhere quieter."
Javier shook his head. He was happy for his friend. And a bit annoyed.
Jesus, how did I get so bitter in two days? Just because Zach was back, and he'd been the love of Javier's life? So far, he reminded himself. The love of his life so far.
As if drawn by the scent of his misery, Zach approached Chris's abandoned seat slowly. He had a brown glass bottle in his hand, and his coppery hair brushed the collar of his navy blue polo shirt. What kind of a dork wore a polo shirt to a bar? He looked like tech support. But he was still beautiful, with an unshaven chin and those eyes that looked boyish in a face that belonged to a man.
“Is this seat taken?” Before Javier could answer, Zach sat down. “I’m sorry. About acting so weird.”
“Is this the right place to be having this conversation?” Javier asked, ducking his head down a little.
“People can still see you.” Zach slapped his hand on Javier’s shoulder and gave a little pull. “Come on, man. Let’s go have a chat.”
Javier knew he shouldn’t follow Zach. It was clear he’d drunk a little too much. Probably, he was giddy on actually playing a game for the first time in the season. It was a cute combination.
Javier didn’t trust himself around cute.
Zach wavered on his feet a little as he went ahead down the dark back hallway. Past the restrooms and the door to the kitchens, there was a little space where a payphone used to be. The shelf was still there, with the hole drilled for the cord to go through, but the phone itself was missing, the paint a different color in a large rectangle where they’d painted the new, darker green around it. There may have been uglier places to have an ugly conversation, but probably not many.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Zach slumped against the wall beside the back door. “I don’t know how to do this. How do we play on the same team, and treat each other as teammates, after what we had?”
“I don’t know,” Javier admitted. “And I’m sorry, too. I mean, I had to leave. I got traded. But I didn’t have to break up with you. That was just me being dumb and scared.”
“Dumbest thing you ever did,” Zach said, tipping the neck of his bottle at Javier. “But we were best friends. I feel like I miss that more than I miss going out with you.”
“I miss that, too.”
They stood in silence for a moment. An uncertain smile spread across Zach’s face. “I don’t want to be mad at you anymore. I’m lonely as hell in this town, and it’s killing me.”
Javier laughed. “Oh, I see. So, you spend a few nights away from your piece of Hollywood ass, and suddenly I’m looking real good.”
“Domenic. His name is Domenic. Look, we’re grown-ups. Let’s be mature about this and put all that other shit behind us, okay?” Zach’s tone was pleading. Javier already felt like a first-class dick for the way he’d ended things, but then Zach had to go and sound all lonely and unhappy, and it made Javier feel worse.
