Page 29 of Sweat

Something hard clips my shoulder. It’s Tommy, jogging past with his chin tipping toward me. “Quit flirting, superstar.”

Something about that has me laughing. Trying to get my head into the game, I call out to Raisel that I’m open. As soon as he passes the ball, Tommy is on me, and the motherfucker won’t let up. He better not, because when I’m in it, I’m in it, and Tommy can’t be on my team unless I know he has what it takes to beat me.

As hard as he tries, I still make my shot, but he makes me lose focus enough that I miss the goal by a foot.

“There he is,” I tell him, smirking at how delicious he looks when he succeeds. “Keep doing that, baby boy, and you’ll be a starter this fall.”

Tommy’s smile is short-lived, turning pensive again. At halftime, he comes up to me while I’m chugging my weight in Gatorade. “You still cool with me trying out?”

I lower my bottle and squint at him. “Doesn’t matter what I’m cool with. What matters is if you want to play or not. Haven’t I told you that a hundred times already?”

His eyes shift down to the ground before lifting to something to the side of me. “I’m gonna try out. Just wanna make sure you’ve still got my back.”

So bashful. I can’t stand it. It’s too adorable, and it’s too diminishing of Tommy’s talent. He shouldn’t give a fuck what I think or want.

“I got you,” I tell him, and I mean it like a promise.

Tonight, Levi’s team finally pulls off a win, and while I hate losing, I’m proud of Tommy. The way he mops up his sweat with his balled up t-shirt reminds me of how I left him Monday night. Reminds my cock too, which hops a little in my underwear.

“You hungry?” I ask him before I can chicken out.

He looks up at me from where he’s sitting on the grass, knees up and parted enough that I have to force my gaze to stay on his face.

Looking a little dazed, he says, “I dunno.”

“You won. I owe you dinner now, right?”

A smile comes onto his face, and his eyes shift shyly. “Uh, yeah. Okay. Whatcha have in mind?”

We take my car to the south side and hit the Sonic Drive-In. Tommy acts like I’ve gone mad, but it’s not like I can survive on protein shakes and grocery store salads alone. Gotta treat myself now and then. We order Coney dogs, tots, and giant slushies with crunchy candies in them that make my teethtingle. We eat with the AC on and my phone plugged into the aux.

“What is this?” Tommy asks with his mouth full of chili dog. He reaches over and turns the music up a few notches. “You a hip-hop guy?”

It’s one of a few Kembe X songs I have on my driving playlist. Not everything is hip-hop, but it is one of my go-to genres.

“Surprised?” I ask.

“Maybe,” he chuckles.

“What did you think I was into?”

“I have no idea,” he chuckles more. “You’re, like, the most enigmatic dude I’ve ever met.”

“Really?” I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I’m too into this slushy to care much. It cools my insides while the AC cools my outsides.

“Yeah, really. You’re a total mystery. Like if an Agatha Christie novel were a person.”

That makes me laugh. “What? So, one of my personalities has murdered another, and the remaining personalities have to figure out who done it before they’re next?”

“But, the killer-personality offs the rest, one after the other, until all that’s left is him and the little softie hiding somewhere inside that tough exterior of yours.”

I lose the humor, and now I’m just thinking. “What makes you think I’ve got a little softie inside me?” I ask. “And don’t make a dick joke.”

Tommy snorts and laughs some more. A real laugh. The sort that should embarrass him if it weren’t so cute. When he settles down, he answers, “I think everyone does. Some people just hide theirs better.”

That means Tommy has a soft side, but that doesn’t surprise me at all. The more time I spend with him, the more genuine I find his gentleness. That almost needy side of him. A gentle, needy straight guy… My dick is already half hard under the tray in my lap.

I’m doomed.

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