Art looked into Wes’s eyes, and it was the reminder of so many of those glances when they were sitting together that day. Art didn’t see a reason for posturing or pretending. Not after all the time that had passed. “I had a bit of a crush on you,” Art confessed, which made Wes smile, and Art was pleased to know he was responsible for Wes’spleasure.
“Smitten with me, wereyou?”
“You can’t blame me. You were a catch, and you were wearing this tight white shirt tucked into dark-wash jeans. Black shoes and gelled hair, the way you always had it combed over to theside.”
Wes’s face scrunched up as he said, “What were you on? I didn’t own any white shirts. I think you’re misremembering some of this. I was in a navy-blue polo and shorts… Of course I would have been in shorts. It wassummer.”
“That can’t beright.”
“Yes, it is. And you were in a polo as well, brown and white stripes, and khaki shorts aswell.”
Art laughed at Wes’s fumble, for while Art may have not been completely accurate in his recount, he remembered well enough his own clothes. “No, no. I did own a brown-and-white-striped polo, but that day, I was the one in a navy-blue polo. That’s what you’re remembering. And I had on denim shorts, but you were in blue jeans, forsure.”
Wes shook his head. “I don’t think you remember that day as well as you think you do. I have an excellent memory, and you were wearing the brown-and-white-striped polo tucked into your khaki shorts. You had these brown Oxfords that went with your belt…and a gold crossnecklace.”
Art froze, stunned by the detail Wes had mentioned. “You noticed my necklace? I can’t believe you rememberedthat.”
“Well, you weren’t the only one there who had a bit of a crush thatday.”
Wes looked directly into Art’s eyes, and a swirling sensation raced through Art’s body. There was tremendous relief in knowing he hadn’t been alone in his feelings. That he hadn’t been imagining Wes’s interest, which especially immediately after, he had told himself it had all been an illusion, a trick of his mind to convince himself that this beautiful man could be interested inhim.
He felt insane for how excited it made him, and a wave of heat rushed to hisface.
Blushing? Was he really blushing over something that happened so longago?
And the way Wes looked at him, it was like his interest hadn’t wavered since, even though Art knew he wasn’t that kid from back then…that his body, his mind, the essence of who he’d become was totally different. Surely not something that could have appealed to a man like WesBrenner.
“Well, we can agree to disagree about what we were wearing,” Art said, “but I do remember theconversation.”
“Chatting about nothing? Well, andpirates.”
“God, I feel so foolish for having even told such a sillystory.”
“It was verycute.”
“You were the one who started it, so serves you right,” Art insisted. “But I was surprised you even wanted to talk tome.”
“Admittedly, I wanted to do a little more thantalk.”
The sly expression on Wes’s face made Art laugh at the thought of his sixteen-year-old self discovering Wes Brenner had been talking to him the whole time because he was attracted tohim.
“I thought for a moment that something would happen,” Art confessed. “That you might be about to make amove…”
“If my friend hadn’t shown up, I can’t say I wouldn’thave.”
Another wave of relief rushed through Art, and in a moment, he was taken back to that feeling of being right beside one another, facing each other, sitting in silence, Wes leaning in toward him, his gaze shifting to Art’s lips like he wanted him, like he was just about to steal a kiss. Up until that moment, Art couldn’t have recalled ever wanting something as bad as he’d wanted Wes’s lips against his, to taste him, to feel Wes’s flesh against hisbody.
And there he was, so many years later, receiving confirmation that he hadn’t imagined that moment, when for so many years after Wes got married, Art had found himself questioning it…and then struggling to remember the details when the truth about Wes was revealed, which gave him such a strange hope that maybe that special moment of clarity had been as real as it hadfelt.
Wes’s expression shifted. “Did you know? About me? Deepdown?”
“I hardly knew about myself, so it was hard to tell. Although, that day was clarifying, and I remember wishing you were feeling the sameway.”
“Wishing?” Wes asked. “Oh, I must’ve been quite the stud,then.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you and say you weren’t. You know everyone was chasing you around back in theday.”
“This seems like a little revisionist history, but I’ll takeit.”
