“That’s too bad.”
“Not really,” he says flatly, then lets out a long sigh. “They thought I had a choice between them and being gay.”
My hands spasm as I set the last rod in its holder, and it nearly tumbles into the water. When I turn my head, David’s watching me carefully.
“Being gay isn’t a choice,” I say.
“No,” he says. “So I chose not to see them anymore.”
“Guess there was a choice after all.” When I straighten again, David’s standing next to me, eyes on the shore. I should say something, even to change the subject, but instead I go for honesty.
“My mom was nothing but supportive when I came out. My dad thought being bisexual was some kind of phase. But I’ve been out since my teens, so I think even he has to admit it stuck.”
David laughs. “Dads, right?”
“Yeah.” But I’m not thinking about my dad. I’m thinking that David’s gay, and we’re all alone on this boat, and I’d be kidding myself if I said I wasn’t attracted to him. Except nothing can happen. Harper would have my balls. And just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s attracted to me too. For all I know, he might be one of those “sorry, I’m not into bi guys” weirdos who always make me want to punch something.
Still, as he grips the rail, it’s hard to look away from him. He’s back in the yellow rain jacket, but it’s easy to see how toned his legs are under his jeans. Even his hands are perfectly tanned and strong.
“So...” I say, then realize I was about to say something inane like “What should we do now?” when really, there’s nothing to do but wait for the lines. It’ll take some time for the bait to stream into the current and bring fish to us, so until then, we’re two guys on a boat a few hours from anyone else who knows us.
“Well, what about you?” David asks.
“What about me?”
“What do you do when you’re not taking people out fishing?”
Oh. I didn’t realize we were going to talk about me. That really wasn’t what I was thinking of. And none of it sounds very exciting when David’s traveled all over and my idea of a good time is taking apart an outboard motor to figure out why it’s smoking.
“I like to spend time with my sister and her son. They moved up from Massachusetts actually.” I smile, trying to ignore the awkward feeling that comes with talking about my personal life. “Maybe you know them.”
He frowns. “Why would I know them?”
“Because they lived near Boston, and you live in Boston, and...” My confidence in what was never a very good joke falters. “You know what, never mind. I—”
“Oh! Oh, right, because—” David says quickly.
“No, it’s fine. I was only—”
“No. My fault. I wasn’t thinking—”
We trail off at the same time, words drifting out over the water. His gaze is on me, and I’m having a hard time tearing mine away. He’s magnetic. I can’t say why, but every time he speaks or moves or breathes, I want to know him more.
The boat rocks and I take one stumbling step toward him before I can steady myself. He seems to catch his breath.
Before I can say anything though, one of the reels whines as it spools out.
David laughs softly to himself. “Someone’s ready to go.”
I can’t tell if he’s talking about me or the fish.
