Page 9 of Survivor
Shoving the car door open, which also pushed Taylor back a few feet, Frank glared up at him. “Kiss it,Kid,” The comment was laughable as Taylor now stood at six foot three and was all lean muscles and curves.What the fuck?Frank tried to move the thoughts in his brain around and figure out why in the hell he was even looking at Taylor close enough to notice his build. Shoving past him, Frank averted his gaze and laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as hysterical to Taylor as it did to his own ears.
He’d just popped the trunk when screeching tires, the roar of an engine, and an ear-splitting honk rent the air. “Caleb, oh thank God,” Frank muttered.
“Huh?” Taylor asked.
“I said, let’s unload the car.”
Taylor nodded, holding his arms out so Frank could stack two cases of beer in them to be carried into the house. He turned in time to see Caleb hop down from the cab of the tank disguised as a truck, arms weighed down with the bags of booze from the liquor store run. He followed them into the house, setting the bags on the kitchen island to be emptied, sorted, and the contents put away. One by one, Taylor’s friends arrived and there was a steady stream of people in and out of the kitchen, trekking down to the beach to play volleyball and ride the Jet Skis. Hubert and Charles set up the gazebo tents, Taylor and his friends carried down the chairs and tables, and Frank fired up the grill.
Frank managed to push the earlier incident out of his head and concentrate on the enjoying the day. That was, until Billy showed up. Billy Scranton was the grandson of the couple that owned the cottage next door. He was also Taylor’s first crush. Frank knew this because he’d been the one Taylor had come to when he was trying to wade through his emotions, his feelings for the boy next door. But it was still overwhelming for a then-fourteen-year-old kid to be attracted to someone. Frank felt certain that regardless of whether it had been another guy or a girl, Taylor would have been confused by the changes his body was going through. Puberty alone was bad enough. Toss in young love and sexual attraction and it was more like weaving through a minefield. At the time, Frank was still in his twenties and quite possibly, still surviving puberty himself. He could relate to everything Taylor was feeling back then.
Young Billy jogged through his grandparents’ backyard down to the beach and made a beeline for Taylor. The two of them hugged briefly and Frank felt a prickle of anger at the sight of Taylor’s arms around Billy. His emotions were both confusing and disturbing. There was no denying they looked good together. Where Taylor was tall and toned with caramel skin and dark, wavy hair; Billy was short, tanned, and blond with this California surfer dude persona that he wore well. The two of them headed into the water and Frank turned his attention back to the meat he was grilling, flipping the steaks before ducking into the house for a cold beer.
He couldn’t say why he chose to stay in the house for a minute. Popping the cap on the beer he’d pulled from the fridge, he took a long pull from the bottle before turning and looking out the window. But in hindsight, he was so happy he did. Because when Taylor and Billy came out of the water, embraced and then shared a quick kiss, his insides burned with jealousy that rivaled the anger he’d felt just moments before.
“I am losing my fucking mind,” he muttered. Yep, it’d been a perfect day until then.
