Bad Intentions (18 page)

It was the summer of Ryle’s senior year in high school, when he learned who his biological father was. There hadn’t been some nice, drawn-out reunion where he’d pleaded for his son’s forgiveness and, like a leaf turning over, Ryle agreed to let bygones be bygones. There wasn’t even a moment where Ryle got the explanation he felt he’d deserved. There was nothing but a fat check—an inheritance that was rightfully his—delivered to the place of business of his adopted parents’ attorney. It had been addressed in Ryle’s name.

Mr. and Mrs. Benson had opened an account for him and deposited the funds. Year after year, the account continued to grow and, by age eighteen, he’d been able to access it. They thought that he’d want to buy his own place or travel the world, but in reality, Ryle hadn’t wanted a penny from the man who’d done nothing but donate his sperm.

The story was that his mother had gotten pregnant when she was in high school. His father had been scared to death, having just learned that he’d received a baseball scholarship. Like the giant moron that he was, he’d cut all ties with Ryle’s mother and went on to live his dream of playing college baseball. It was a dream that was short-lived. An injury gutted him and left him as a has-been athlete before he’d even really begun. With no future in returning to the field, he’d earned a degree and began a starter company.

Over the course of Ryle’s life, as he was tossed around between foster care and even worse places, his biological father had been living large. He’d had a giant estate and went on to have three children. His life had been ideal—even as the life of his abandoned son was anything but.

It was a heart attack that had taken the man’s life, and as much as his wife and their three children protested, the attorney couldn’t alter the paperwork. Ryle was the sole beneficiary of his father’s estate. It would never make sense as to why a man who ran the moment he heard the news that he was going to be a father would leave the entirety of his money and assets to a son he’d never seen.

Ryle swore that the money meant nothing, and truthfully, it didn’t. He’d gone on a spending rampage—buying new cars, toys, and an apartment close to campus—he hadn’t spared any expense. The Benson’s struck a chord though, when they’d sat him down the day before he started college and told him that he should do something productive with the money instead of wasting it just to spite his dead father.

Since that day, he hadn’t made any foolish purchases. Yes, he still delighted in nice clothing, but appearance was something that he’d had no dignity in before. He’d been given worn, dirty, dingy clothes while in the system.

Now he spent time volunteering in the Big Brother Big Sister program. There is where he found his comfort. He lavished money on those children, spoiling them with fancy book bags and school supplies. He ensured that none of them ever go hungry, by supplying their parents with non-perishables every month.

He looked forward to every second he spent with them. Matter of fact, when he ran away from Adaley this time, it’s because of a date with a little girl named Khloe.

“W
here are we going?” I’m desperate to find out our destination, as Tank’s foot presses on the gas pedal and we shoot forward. My neck does one of those bobble head things as he crosses the white dashed line in the center of the road. Veering over it slightly, he looks over at me with a smirk on his angular face.

“If I told ya where we were going, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it? Relax, we’re almost there.” His expression says it all. Brat.

“Keep your eyes on the road, bubba,” I tease. “Less talking, more concentration.”

The car zigs and zags around the winding curves and thrashes me against my seat. Grabbing the
oh shit
handle, I pray that the cereal I ate this morning doesn’t come up. “Are you sure we should be going this fast?” I swallow.

“Do you want to drive?”

Wow, a man that is actually willing to let a person of the opposite sex drive his precious car. “Not particularly. But I’d like to make it to our
unknown
destination in one piece.” I offer him an affable smile, to which he responds by saluting me with his middle finger.

Hair blows in wisps around my face as wind gushes through my open window. As much as it scares me, the speed also excites me. There’s something thrilling about speeding down an open road.

It’s reckless.

I stretch my right arm and hang it out the window. With my hand flat, I ride the wind waves. A soft harmony plays over the radio and fills our ears with music. This moment is bliss. It’s a feeling that I’ve chased my entire life.

I have a great friend beside me, and I’m having more fun just being carefree than I’ve ever had doing anything else. And, I have a seriously hard crush on someone who I know nothing about. That’s alluring in and of itself. The unknown…the feeling that I may be reaching for someone too far out of my league.

“What’s running through that pretty little head of yours? I can almost feel you thinking.”

“Caught me,” I confess.

“We have a few minutes before we get there. Can you sum it up, or is this a wait-until-later conversation?”

“Later,” I reply, knowing that any conversation about Ryle is going to be a long one.

Just over fifteen minutes pass, and our destination comes into sight. My eyes are glued to the view out the window, and what I see leaves me dumbfounded. “Holy cow. How did you? Alligators?”

“Zoe,” is all Tank has to say, and a grin spreads across my face like a child whose parents just surprised her with a trip to Disney World.

I. Can’t. Even.

“Surprise. Now come on. We have a tour to go on.”

The strength behind the squeeze Tank gives my hand is as manly as it can be. I’m still torn about whether to buy into his whole ‘I like girls
and
guys thing’ but right now, all I’m focused on is the giddy jitters that are stirring in my gut. I mean really? His sister told him about my fascination with wildlife and alligators and
poof,
he decides to bring me on our very own tour. My best friends are way cooler than anyone else’s. Bottom line.

After we sign in and Tank pays for our tickets, we’re ushered through the coolest exhibit on the planet. My eyes widen in fascination at the miniature dinosaurs in front of us as we walk through the display. The tour guide stops every now and then and explains how and what they are doing to protect the species in our local area. We end the tour by getting to hold a baby alligator. Granted, his mouth was taped closed, but it was still an awesome experience.

“That was so cool!” I jump up and down repeatedly, contemplating a spur-of-the-moment call to my mom and dad to gush about our time.

Tank laughs, a deep sound of pure delight. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Ya know, I never liked the tours much when we were younger and our parents dragged us here, but you give things a whole new meaning.”

My eyes narrow like a cat. “Are you flirting with me, handsome?” I tease.

“You wish,” he spits out, way too quickly for my liking. “But really, it was nice having someone around who was genuinely interested. It made me more interested in those little fu—.”

“They’re
baby
alligators!” I lose myself to a fit of amusement.

“So for the last leg of our day-date…,” I look over to see Tank hitting a button on his car’s automated key. The trunk slowly pops open. My eyes are drawn to a decent-sized cooler. “A picnic.”

“Wow. Are you sure you’re gay? I mean—all this for me? I sense that you’re trying to woo me.”

“Again with the flattery. Come,” he holds out a hand and grabs the cooler with the other. His trunk closes as he presses a small, round button on his key ring.

We walk a few feet away from the bayou toward a spacious park. There’re kids tossing footballs, a few sets of expectant parents circled around a table, and handfuls of owners with four-legged companions, who are jogging along a shaded path.
My gosh, what if an alligator escapes?
Thoughts of safety for their fur-kids sneaks into my mind as we stroll toward a patch of green grass. Tank bends to sit down and gestures for me to the same.

“Do we have a blanket to sit on?”

“Shit.” He pops up and takes off in the direction of his car.

A few minutes later, he’s back with a black and white checkered blanket in tow. “Here we go.”

I open the lid of the cooler and glance inside. As if on cue, my stomach starts to rumble. “This looks amazing.”

Item by item, he pulls out an assortment of food. Handmade peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sour cream and onion chips and dip. Lastly, he pulls out a container of chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert.

Our conversation is light as we munch on our food, but it takes an unexpected turn as I bite into my first strawberry.

“Let’s just clear the air here. I like men.” Tank must have noticed my eyes bulging out of my head, because he corrects himself. “I like women too.”

I lay half-eaten fruit on my paper plate. I’ve lost my appetite. “I’m just so confused.”

“What exactly are you confused about? I think both men and women are attractive. I’m not fully gay, but I’m not,
not
gay either.

My silence is taken as disgust. I know it from the look on his face as I glance over. I try to make up for my distaste in his sexual orientation, and inject softness to my tone when I speak. “I’m just processing. I’ve never known someone who liked both. I grew up to believe—.”

“To believe that being gay was a sin. I get it.” I watch as he shrugs one shoulder, his hand perched on his kneecap. “I grew up Catholic. But you know what I disagree with?
My
God—the one who I pray to and find strength in—I find it hard to think he would judge me because of my sexual preference. And if someone doesn’t love me the way I am, then they don’t deserve to be in my life.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I blurt out, feeling a bit hurt that he hasn’t felt comfortable enough in our friendship to share this news prior to me stumbling upon it on my own. I mean, we just met a few weeks ago, but we grew close really quickly.

“I don’t know. The moment I saw you, I felt as if I had to literally pick my jaw up off the ground. You were gorgeous standing there in front of the elevator.”

Now it’s my turn to find the words hard to believe. If he truly thought I was gorgeous, then he would have made a move on me. Maybe he’s lying. It could be another little secret that he’s kept to himself. My eyes narrow to slits as I eye him with doubt.

“Before you start thinking that I’m a lying motherfucker, you should know that Ryle claimed you the moment we stepped outside. I’ve only known him a few months now, but I knew that he was dead serious. You were off limits.”

“He said that?” I gawk, feeling slightly tingly that he’d warned Tank off.

“He didn’t have to say the words, per se. I knew by the look on his face that he’d castrate me if I threw any game at you.”

“He’s so unbelievable. It’s not like he even shows any interest in me whatsoever. Who is he to warn guys to stay away from me?” Half of my body melts at the realization of his gesture, and the other half ignites in flames as my mind travels down the road that leads me straight to the gates of hell. “I can’t even stand him,” I seethe through gritted teeth.

“And the test results determined that’s a lie.”

My brow rises faintly as I question what he just popped off with.

“It’s from Murray? The talk show? Okay…moving on. Listen, I know that you feel confused about a lot of things right now, but one thing you shouldn’t doubt is how he feels. He’s not a man of words—we both know that. His actions speak volumes.”

I’m dumbfounded. “And what actions are you speaking of? Because the only thing he’s done is string me along. He gently does this,” I raise my hand and cup Tank’s face. “And then this,” I remove my hand and slide the back of it down the cheek I just held and then use two fingers and raise his chin. “Then, he walks away. All he does is toy with me, and my battery is running on empty.”

“First, let me say that was totally hot and if you weren’t off limits, I would lay you down and hump your leg like a German shepherd right now. And secondly, he’s showing you affection. It means something. I know it does. He’s different when you’re around.”