Page 2 of No Reservations

Dee and Wes already floated about ten feet from the end of the dock, heads back and legs stretched out. They looked completely relaxed, and I told myself that I wanted to do that too, just lie around, soak up some sun, and clear my mind for a while.

“Do you need anything else right now?” Tyler shot me a great customer service smile.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m good.” I tucked the float under my arm and headed down the dock. I joined my friends in the water, wiggled around a bit before I got the support tubes under my neck and legs, and settled in the water.

It was the perfect temperature in the relatively shallow area around the dock, and it had a sandy bottom instead of muck and weeds. I twisted around and peered down through the clear water. A few small rocks lay scattered on the sand, their smooth surfaces dappled with the light shining through the water. They’d hardly have a popular lakeside inn with muck and—

Dee flicked his hand into the water and sent a splash my way. “Stop thinking so much, Matthew. We’re here to relax.”

I sat up and found the float transformed nicely into a type of hammock chair. “I am relaxing.” I paddled over until I was right next to Wes. He tipped his head to peer at me from behind dark glasses. “I think.”

Wes sat up and shoved his glasses up into his hair. “We have a whole week to do all sorts of things.” Both my friends knew by then that I didn’t like to sit still for long. “Did you check out the app? They have maps of local hiking trails and stuff. The city’s not far. We could hit a few clubs maybe or…” He glanced at Dee, who didn’t offer any helpful suggestions. He was a master at chilling out.

I shook my head and swirled my arms around in the water. “I know. I’m sorry.” I scanned the little beach and the lawn beyond it.

The men with the fruit bowl had disappeared. The trio we saw on the path before were on the deck with water bottles in their hands. An older guy in a Hawaiian shirt sprawled on a lounge chair with a plate on his belly. He hadn’t paired it with cargo shorts and Velcro shoes, which only proved Dee’s fashionadvice false. A dark-haired man in khaki shorts and a white shirt with rolled sleeves stalked back and forth in the shade of the pines, a phone pressed to his ear.

He moved in and out of the shadows, his strides long and shoulders tense. I couldn’t make out any details from my spot on the water, but something about him caught my interest. Without thought, my hands pushed into the water again, and I paddled past the end of the dock in his direction.

“Where are you going?” Dee shifted to peer at me.

“I was just…”

The man jerked to a stop in a patch of sunlight. His strong jaw moved with whatever harsh words he said into the phone. He lifted his free hand to rub the back of his neck before rolling his head as if to relieve tension.

Wes and Dee had taken notice by that time and sat up on their floats nearby. The moment the man shoved his phone in the pocket of his tailored shorts and spun around to head back toward the inn, Wes gasped.

“Oh damn,” he said in a breathless voice he usually reserved for spotting a hot guy in a club. “That’s Cole Gilliam.”

Dee’s dark brows shot up, and we both turned toward Wes. “Who is Cole Gilliam?” I asked. They both swiveled to stare open-mouthed at me.

“You don’t know who Cole Gilliam is?” When I shook my head, he continued. “He manages Eclipse 6. There’s this huge scandal about him faking being gay.”

“Why would someone fake being gay?” I looked back toward shore, but the man in question was nowhere in sight.

“Eclipse 6 is a huge deal in the young LGBTQ+ community right now. They’re doing all these shows in crazy places like Texas. Cole got attacked by a cowboy a couple months ago, and not the sexy type, the red hat wearing type. Now, there’s thisrumor that he’s not really gay and he’s using them to boost his own career.”

Dee shook his head. “He’s already managing one of the hottest pop bands in the country. No clue why people think he needs to boost his career. It wouldn’t even matter if he was gay or not, right? Straight people can do business for gay boy bands.”

“Faking being gay is really low, though. Like, get your own struggle, right?” Wes might have had quite a past as a party boy, but he was one of the most in-touch people I knew. He was always involved with volunteer organizations and pushing for legislative reform and stuff. We’d met at a charity building event for a halfway house expansion years earlier and still volunteered together whenever we had a chance.

I could understand how he’d think badly of someone usurping the queer identity for personal gain. I frowned. “Do you really think he’s faking it? And why would he be here?”

Dee closed his eyes and leaned back again. “It was probably someone else. I can’t imagine why Cole Gilliam would come to a place like this no matter how amazing the inn is. It’s not exactly a hot destination for celebrities.”

“Maybe he’s taking a tour of LGBTQ+ vacation spots to get photos and like… verify his identity or something.” Wes shrugged and splashed some water over his chest. Despite the SPF 30 he applied liberally before we left the cabin, he already looked a little pink.

“You need more sunblock,” I said.

“Yes, Daddy.” Wes rolled his eyes and adjusted his sunglasses to demonstrate clearly how much he was going to ignore me from then on.

“Ugh. If you guys start that stuff up again, you can share a bed.”

Several feet away, two guys with sculpted muscles cut through the water. They stopped simultaneously and looked over at us. “We couldn’t help but overhear…”

Wes sat up again and tipped his sunglasses down to eyeball the two hot men. He shot his thumb at Dee. “He’s taken.” He pointed at me next. “And he’s not a daddy. I, on the other hand, am down for just about anything.”

Dee and I cracked up laughing when the two men exchanged amused glances.

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