Page 9 of Accidentally Joining His Cult

My family also didn’t care when I started to cover myself with tattoos. I didn’t get them as some big rebellion against the straight-laced corporate image my family presents to the world, like some people assume. I just really like the look of them and appreciate them as an art form and means of personal expression. My dad and I even have matching tattoos of our hockey team’s logo on our triceps.

“I was always popular in school, being athletic with a lot of money helped, even if people only wanted to know me because of my last name,” I continue, even though I’m not sure where I’m going with this. “And aside from not knowing if my friends only cared about getting to my family, I guess that I wasn’t completely exempt from the struggles of growing up knowing that I’m gay. No one directly bullied me, but I still overheard ‘gay’ being used as a derogatory term. I heard what people said about the other out kids or even people that they thought might be gay. I knew everyone didn’t accept same-sex relationships. Hell, same sex marriages weren’t even legal until I was in my twenties.”

At some point, I must have opened my eyes because I find myself searching the crowd for looks of disgust or judgment. I don’t spot any, so I continue. “Maybe I internalized some of that, protecting myself from the criticism. I’ve always known I’m gay and that it wasn’t something I had control over. But, I can’t ever remember a time I fantasized about getting married or even living with a partner,” I admit. Even with that first high school boyfriend, my thoughts of our future were more about prom or if we’d go to the same college, not anything beyond our teenage years.

As I say this, images of that life with Cody flash through my mind without permission. Cody waiting for me with dinner in my condo at the end of a long day. Us in matching jerseys at Werewolves games. Sitting on a beach, enjoying a relaxing vacation, just the two of us.

What the fuck was that?

Cody interrupts those thoughts, his voice now calm and reassuring. “So you’re saying that you think you might have subconsciously decided that if people were going to look down on same-sex relationships, you wouldn’t want one. That you were protecting yourself by denying that you might actually want that type of future with someone?” He looks so supportive with his big puppy dog eyes looking right into my soul.

I thought that Jordan was good at getting people to open up, but Cody could give him a run for his money.

I have no idea if that’s something I did. Those images with Cody were the first time I’ve ever considered it. But I numbly nod along because I have no idea what to say.

“Thank you so much for being brave enough to share that with me,” he says in a soft tone. I’m not sure anyone else can hear it, and he places his hand on mine reassuringly. His touch sends a bolt of electricity up my arm. “I think you have a lot to reflect on as you consider your goals for the future. Don’t be afraid to think about what will truly make you happy.” He looks so fucking proud of me, that I don’t even regret saying all of that.

A part of me might even be questioning if what I said had some truth in it.

The rest of the program flies by in a blur, and before I know it, Cody is talking about the other programs we can sign up for. A ton of people approach him after the class, and even more people go straight to the tables that have been set up off to the side to choose their next course.

I hang back for what feels like an hour as I wait for each person to get their moment with Cody. I can’t even be mad about the delay, as everyone who talks to him seems to amplify his joy somehow while sharing in it themselves. Eventually, the last person leaves, and it’s just the two of us.

“Hey, Beck! Did you still want to go out?” he questions, like that's not the entire reason I showed up today.

“Obviously.” I wink and bump my shoulder with his. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you out of here.”

He laughs as he shuts down his laptop and slips it into his bag.

“Can I help you do anything before we go?” I ask, even though looking around, it seems like everything that’s left probably belongs to the hotel.

“Nope!” he replies with a big smile. “I’m all yours.”

CHAPTERFOUR

Cody

Today was amazing. I absolutely love to teach entry-level programs like that. Watching people discover the benefits of Kyla’s courses is such a privilege, and I hope to see some of them again in future classes.

I also love spending time with someone one-on-one after trying to split my attention between such a large crowd all day. I’m so glad that Beck suggested we hang out. He seems great.

His driver was waiting for us outside the hotel and took us straight to this awesome Italian restaurant. It’s fancier than anywhere I’d choose for myself, and it's cool that Beck thought to show me something I’d never do on my own.

The restaurant is cozy, with red velvet-backed chairs and lots of leafy plants around, giving each table a private feel. The instrumental music floating throughout the space is so pure it makes me wonder if it’s live, and soft lighting adds to the intimate vibe.

Beck is really polite, opening doors for me, asking which chair I’d prefer, and pulling it out for me when we arrived at the table.

“Do you want to split a bottle of wine?” he asks.

“I don’t know much about wine, but I’m up for anything,” I reply with a shrug and a smile.

“I don’t usually drink wine either, I’m more of a beer or whiskey kind of guy. But I thought maybe the occasion calls for it.” He gives me a shy smile, and I nod.

“Yeah, it does fit the vibe,” I agree.

Our waiter makes a big show of bringing the wine out and pouring some for Beck to sip and approve before he pours fuller glasses for each of us. Now we’re both pretending to know anything about it other than the color.

“Only the finest reds have this… oaky aftertaste,” Beck deadpans, swirling his glass.

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