Loving Bailey Read Free Page B

of
place, where established couples came to have a margarita or a Mai
Tai after a day spent in the sun. This close to the beach it caught
a fair share of the young singles crowd looking to hook up, too,
but when all you needed was a steady flow of alcohol and a
sympathetic ear, it lacked something. Drinks were stupidly
expensive, the décor commercially trendy pseudo-tropical. He and
Arlo Johansson sat on crazily uncomfortable woven barstools that
Arlo claimed were Polynesian influenced and therefore did not fit
in with the rest of the décor.
    All Ashton knew was that the plastic fake
straw shit poked through his khaki shorts and the back positively
abraded his skin through the thin polo shirt he wore whenever he
forgot himself so much as to lean against it.
    So what was he doing here in this den of high
priced mediocrity drinking whisky like water and attempting to
drown his sorrow and ire? Arlo could take the blame for that
too.
    Answering his cell phone in the car as he
left Bailey's birthday slash graduation party, he'd been in enough
of a foul mood to agree to meet his old college roommate.
    Arlo lived on a boat that docked at the
marina near the bar, which made meeting at Pete's convenient for
him. Ashton didn't care, but the idea of a drink and some
conversation to distract himself from brooding over Bailey's
behavior sounded good.
    "Should have gone home and graded papers," he
muttered, interrupting Arlo's story about an incredible find in
Aruba where he'd apparently spent the last six months working on a
friend's prehistoric dig. That stack of blue books still sat on the
floor between his sofa and the lamp. Instead, he'd spent last night
making out and laughing and planning a future with the man he
loved.
    "After uncovering the sixth body, we've
determined the site must be a graveyard…" Arlo droned on,
apparently unaware that Ashton wasn't following his conversation at
all.
    No, he couldn't tear his thoughts away from
the man he'd loved, trusted with his whole heart. Stupidly, it
turned out. Bailey was no more worthy of his trust than any of his
previous lovers had proven. Oh, he wasn't a cheater or a player
like some of them had turned out to be. Like Arlo played the field…
He could forgive that.
    But once before he'd been someone's secret.
Only Dennis had been hiding him from their boss and his wife, not
his father. Ashton wasn't quite sure what was worse. Nor did he
understand the point of it. He didn't hide his sexuality on campus
or off it, he never had. And neither had Bailey. He remembered his
first meeting with the broken-hearted youth on campus. Bailey had
been hidden behind a palm tree on the upper floor of the library,
sobbing softly. Tremors shook the broad shoulders, and while he'd
been tempted to flee, his predicament had touched Ashton. He'd
taken a chance on the burly youth accepting comfort and placed a
hand on his shoulder. The heat that flared between them astonished
them both.
    He'd coaxed Bailey's story from him over a
cup of coffee in his office and couldn't hide his pleasure when the
younger man came back again and again to talk. Talk. All that
talking and he couldn't talk to his own father about Ashton?
    "It's not like he doesn't know his son
is gay." He slammed his glass down on the counter and waved the
bartender over.
    A warm hand landed on his thigh, squeezed
comfortingly. Evidently for all his determined talk of ancient
ruins and mummified bodies, Arlo was listening. "Yeah, but you said
he was insecure, that he'd had a bad experience." Arlo Johansson
was doing his best to cheer Ashton up, but he wasn't
succeeding.
    "For Christ sake, it wasn't with his dad. The
man is bisexual!" Ashton's voice rose, attracting curious glances
and a censorious frown from a table with small children. He stared
down the parents for a moment before turning back to Arlo and
speaking in a softer voice. "He has a male lover who lives in the
house with them."
    "But he's young and gun-shy, and is it really
so