Page 31 of Bales and Brawn

I can’t believe I was just thinking about kissing Zane, my boss, and as far as I know, a straight guy like me. If I had a working phone I could ask my brothers for advice. They may tease me, but they’d be supportive. But I can’t, so I need to work it through by myself. I take my time with the horses, giving them a brush like Zane showed me, then sweeping the barn and letting my thoughts sort themselves out in my head. I don’t know what Zane was trying to tell me. I didn’t give him a chance and I feel a stab of guilt about that. I can’t put it off any longer, I need to go back and talk to Zane.

When I return to the cabin he’s making a pot of tea. I want to tell him to stop and rest and I’ll do it, but I know he wouldn’t want that, so I sit at the table and wait while he brings the mugs over.

“Are you starting to feel better?” I ask.

“Yeah.” It’s accompanied by a faint wary smile as he sits.

“I’m sorry for running out like that.” He nods an acknowledgement but doesn’t speak, waiting for me. I take a deep breath.

“Would you like to know how I got a DUI?”

“Only if you want to tell me.” His voice is frosty, which is fair enough, as I doubt he thought this was where the conversation was going, but I want him to understand.

“It was a woman,” I start, and his face twists slightly. I know that makes me sound like an asshole.

“Being a trucker, I stayed at loads of truck stops, bars . . . you know, somewhere to go when you’ve finished for the day and you’ve barely seen another human.

Women used to hit on me quite often. I wasn’t particularly interested in them, but I didn’t think about that much back then. They’d be persuasive, and after a couple of drinks I’m easily swayed. Then it became a few more drinks, stronger stuff. I didn’t really notice at the time, and it’s only through my program I can see the pattern that was forming.

When I got to Sacramento, it was the same. A woman approached me and we had a few drinks. I was tired, so when she wanted more from me, I refused. She was nice, though, so when she said one more drink, I didn’t want to be rude. It was a double whiskey and was enough to cloud my judgement. She seemed genuinely interested in me and my truck, and when she asked to see it I was flattered. Turns out I was some sort of conquest, a cross on her bingo card. When I refused to go through with it she got angry, firing all sorts of language at me, accusing me of leading her on. She jumped out of the truck and I didn’t think. I just wanted to get away from her. I was pulled over a mile up the highway. I couldn’t afford the fine, so I had to go on the program. I had my license suspended and lost my job.”

“That sounds bad, and I know you’ll get your license back soon, but I’m not sure what point you’re making,” Zane says.

“I’ve not touched a drop of alcohol since that night. It was the drink that made me think I was attracted to women. But I wasn’t really, I just didn’t know what attraction felt like. It’s nothing to how I feel when I look at you.”

I drop my eyes and stare at my hands resting on the table. I idly rub at an old stain in the wood. Zane doesn’t respond so I carry on, relieved at getting it off my chest.

“I’ve never really thought about it. I have three gay brothers. But I’m not like any of them. I never saw myself in them, so I figured I was straight. I don’t know what’s true anymore, except that whenever I look at you I want to kiss you.”

I stop speaking and the silence stretches, I can’t bear it and I worry at the stain even more. Perhaps I’ve said too much. I don’t know how Zane will take it. I can see myself spending the night in the chair. Or maybe he’ll kick me out and I’ll have to sleep in the barn. I guess it won’t be that bad.

Zane reaches out and stills my hand.

“Devin,” he says quietly, and I lift my eyes to meet his. His expression is soft but I tense anyway, waiting for what his reaction will be.

“I think I’d like that,” he says, and I let my shoulders drop. “But I have a confession. I’ve never been kissed.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ZANE

I watch as Devin’s eyes widen slightly.

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“Never ever?”

I huff out a laugh, which holds no humor.

“I never had the chance. I'm not sure I would’ve wanted to if I’d had, but I never got to find out.”

“Why didn’t you?” His voice is tender, with no judgement. I’ve never told anyone my story before. Most people know of it, but they don’t really know what it was like.

“When I was a kid, all I wanted was a brother. Someone to share stuff with, to be a playmate. I asked my mom, my dad, God. I put it at the top of my birthday and Christmas wish lists. To me, having a brother would be the ultimate in life.

I remember asking my mom why I didn’t have a brother, and she just smiled and said it was up to the universe. That led to more than a few tantrums, and I thought life was unfair and the universe was against me. It still is. What I didn’t know back then, what none of us knew, was that my mom had a rare condition and that conceiving was difficult, and actually having children was dangerous. It was apparently a miracle I was born, but like I said, none of us knew. If I’d known the price she’d have to pay to make me happy, I wouldn’t have asked it.”