Last Chance (11 page)

“It was yesterday, retard. The coach sent me to check up on you.”

Nick leaned forward, his feet firmly planted on the floor, his hands on his knees. Stu fidgeted, unable to meet his friend's gaze. He walked over to the window and pulled the curtain farther open. Sunlight streamed harshly through the glass pane.

“Sorry. Cor showed up, and it threw my schedule off.”

“It's not like you to miss out. What's going on with you?”

The seriousness in Nick's voice fueled Stu's irritation. What could he say to get Nick off his back? They were as close as brothers and had become even more so when Stu's father had died and Corbin had left home. His friend had always been there for him, and Stu would do anything for him in return. But to tell him the truth?

Stu ran his hand over his face before turning toward Nick. “I need coffee.”

“Did you eat?”

“Just got up.
What time is it, anyway?”

“Noon, you slacker.
Shower, and we'll go to IHOP. You look like you need a meal.”

“Not there.” Too many fresh memories would plague him.

“Okay, then Starbucks.”

* * *

Starbucks was located on Mill Avenue, a couple of blocks from Stu's condo. The weather suited dining outside, and they headed for a shaded table situated along the side street. Stu began to feel normal again, the nightmare ebbing into a distant memory.

Aric had gotten under his skin, and that annoyed him. His sexual frustration buried him in that senseless dream. What they had done in the shower had only whetted his appetite for more. The memory of Aric's fingers trailing down his throat, his shoulders, his chest, made his cock wake up. He looked down at his fisted hands, then picked up his cappuccino and sipped the strong brew.

Nick ate his bagel, picking the crumbs with his fingers. Stu felt comfortable with Nick, but did he feel more for his friend? No. As good-looking as Nick was, Stu was sure he didn't want the guy's dick in his mouth or up his ass. So did this mean he was straight, or that Nick wasn't his type?

His own reputation amazed him. People claimed he bedded every available coed on campus, but between football and his studies, he had little time for dating. The million-dollar question was, why did his body heat up with just the thought of touching Aric's hard muscles sheathed in all that velvet skin? No girl ever made him that crazy.

Nick leaned forward in his chair, licking off the last crumbs from his fingers. “Something you want to tell me? I've known you for a long time, Stu. A long time. I've seen things.”

Anxiety struck at Stu's gut, making his stomach plunge. Had Nick discovered his family's secret? Nick had no fucking clue how many secrets Stu had stowed away in the attic.

Stu chewed his lower lip, then spoke. “You've never bothered with subtlety before.”

“You like this Aric dude, don't you?”

Stu's heart leapfrogged into his throat. A tidal wave of fear drowned out all sounds. He frowned as the cup shook in his trembling hand.

Nick aimed his gaze at eye level with Stu's. “I'm your best friend. You can talk to me.”

A reminder, yes, but no guarantee of acceptance.
Stu sipped his drink, buying himself more time. He'd never purposely lied to his friend, but this…this could change everything between them. “What are you getting at?”

Nick blushed, much to Stu's surprise. The dude always kept his cool under pressure, even during the times on the football field when they had been behind twenty-one to nothing.

“I saw the way you looked at him…and you don't seem too interested in chicks, not that…” Nick's rambling was worse than Nick's disapproval.

Stu slammed his hand over his friend's drumming fingers. “I just like him. That's all.”

Nick patted Stu's hand. “Hey, lighten up. So you're gay. I can handle it.”

Stu shot back his hand. Being called gay didn't sit well with him. “I'm not a fag.” His brow furrowed. “I'm attracted to girls, I guess.” His voice faltered.

Nick let out an exasperated breath. “Look, dude. You're not very convincing.”

“It's not like I lust after any of our teammates.” His gaze darted around the patio as he lowered his voice. “Or other guys,” he repeated, more to convince himself.

“Glad to hear it. Or else I'd have to beat the shit out of you.” Nick slouched in his seat, his mouth quivering in silent laughter.

His friend was kidding, but it didn't ease his worry that everything might change between them. He said gruffly, “Like you could take me down.”

Nick scratched his chest. “Maybe you're right, and it's just Aric that rocks your world. He's pretty for a dude. And as you said the other day, he's smart. You always dated girls with brains rather than with big breasts.” Nick leaned forward. “When you dated at all.” Amusement flashed across his face. “Have you done it yet?”

A warm ache spread across Stu's chest. Would he have another chance to with Aric? His hand jerked, almost knocking over his cup.

“Well…” Nick leaned back into his chair again, letting it teeter on two legs. “You're red as a tomato. A dead giveaway.”

“It's none of your fucking business.”

Light laughter cascaded across the table. “I guess that's a yes.” Nick sat up, reached for Stu's arm, and took it with a gentle squeeze. He lowered his voice, and his eyes were sincere. “I don't care who you choose to have sex with. You'll always be my best friend. Nothing you say or do can change that.”

Stu was glad to be sitting down, because the relief he felt at his best friend's words left his knees weak. Nick had just accepted Stu's being attracted to a guy, without any condemnation. He wanted to jump over the table and embrace Nick in a big bear hug but thought better of it. The last thing he needed was to freak out his best friend, who was showing incredible understanding.

He looked at Nick's strong fingers and shook his head. “I don't know who I am anymore. It's all so confusing.”

“Stop your pity party. You're going to be the greatest wide receiver the world has ever known.”

But Stu wondered if the NFL was his true path. He loved the sport—the smell of the fresh grass, the thrill of the catch, the camaraderie among his teammates. He'd miss it if he walked away, but his love of poetry had its own seductive siren call. Being an English professor definitely had appeal. And what about his destiny and his promise to his mother? A promise he'd sworn to uphold—a promise he'd already broken.

“It won't work, will it?” he muttered, unaware he spoke out loud.

“Football or me?”
Nick grinned, but then his smile wavered. “Not sure, bud. I'm not sure you can have it all. You might have to choose.”

Aric, football, fighting vampires alongside his brother—could he have any of these—especially the last one—without breaking his mother's heart?
Corbin and his father had always encouraged his football career, but his mother wanted him to get his literature degree. And not one of his family members wanted him to follow the life of a slayer. But what did
he
want?

Needing a shave and a shower, Stu shoved the empty coffee cup aside and rose from his chair. “Cor's coming over. I need to go.”

“I haven't seen him in ages. How's he doing? Still breaking hearts?”

Not since their mother kicked Corbin out of the house. Not since his father was alive and their family strong in their unity and love. “He doesn't stick around long enough to find out. I don't think he's ever been in love with anyone.”

“Not like you, huh? The ultimate romantic. Just be careful. Don't fall in love without knowing what you're getting into.” Nick stood and picked up the empty dishes. “I'll bring these in. Meet you on the corner.”

Stu watched Nick disappear inside the coffeehouse, then turned away and walked to the street corner. Cars whizzed by as he waited for his friend to come back. All these people…heading for known destinations. His own destiny was anything but. Whichever direction he took, his life would forever change. Yet he knew deep down his fate had already been decided. He was committed to helping Aric. But all the other stuff…

Nick suggested Stu was falling in love, but that was ridiculous. Stu had just met Aric. What really bothered him was that Nick didn't seem all that surprised by his confession. Because Stu didn't show much interest in girls? Did he always suspect Stu liked guys?

Then there was the dream. It persisted in his mind, an ugly reminder of Aric's precarious fate. Stu had to stop Johan from taking Aric away from him.

Aric was his.

Eyeing Stu intensely, Corbin draped his body across the sofa. A graceful recline fit his brother; Corbin never slouched. He was too urbane for such a pose. Stu grimaced and turned his back, steeling his shoulders for the lecture sure to come. Only Corbin could make him feel like a kid, with his penetrating stare and sharp tongue. Stu always obeyed him in the past, Corbin being more like a father figure than a brother. But that was ages ago. Stu was his own man now.

“I'm not trying to control your life,” Corbin commented as if reading Stu's mind. He lifted the curtain behind the sofa and looked out the window. “Where were you this morning?”

Stu's neck strained with tension. He turned to face his interrogator, knowing what was on his brother's mind. He'd hear about it soon enough. Better to sidetrack if he could. He forced his voice to stay neutral. Now wasn't the time for arguments. “Coffee with Nick. Did you find out anything useful?”

Corbin wore his hair in a ponytail tied back by a simple leather string. Purple smudges underlined his fatigued eyes. “I haven't dealt with this kind before, so I did some research last night.”

Corbin did want to help, and he would give his life to protect Stu. Stu's anger subsided and was replaced with concern for his brother. “You haven't slept, have you? Sure you don't want to take a nap first?”

“No time to waste. I had to visit the Scriptorium.”

“How in the hell did you do that in just a day?”

Their father had taken them only once to visit that amazing library full of nooks and crannies stuffed with wondrous, dusty scrolls and hand-scripted, leather-bound books. Housed beneath the ruins of a monastery on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, since the days of Charlemagne it had been hidden from the eyes of the church, known only to a few. The sacred underground was protected by ancient magic and only reachable by bright cones of light, portals older than time. Several were scattered throughout the world, known only to the initiated. Holding Corbin's hand tightly and with his father by his side, Stu had entered the glowing portal. The sensation was like stepping off a cliff—a free fall of pure exhilaration. In an instant, he was standing in the library, his stomach in his throat. It had taken him hours to recover his equilibrium.

Corbin brushed off his concern with a flick of his hand. “I'm fine.”

Stu ignored his brother's reassurance and turned for the kitchen. He poured a glass of filtered water from the sink, then ripped open a vitamin packet and shook the crystals into the glass. After giving the mixture a quick stir, he handed the orange-tinted liquid to Corbin.