The Wrong Man (24 page)

I felt the weight of a heavy stare and knew before looking up who it was: Nate. He wasn’t glaring at me by any means, but he was definitely checking me out. I had a bad feeling I wasn’t measuring up to his standards. I wasn’t one to worry about what others thought of me, but I admitted Nate was the one friend of Jake’s I’d hoped to get along with. They shared a history, and knowing he was instrumental in Jake turning his life around indicated he was a good man. Unfortunately, it didn’t mean he was predisposed to liking me.

Nate was a handsome man. He was very tall, at least six foot four, with a slim, toned physique, light brown hair, green eyes, and a sophisticated air. He wore glasses he’d assured me earlier were not for cosmetic purposes when I gushed over his chic designer frames. I gave him space to get used to me thinking my tendency to be overly familiar might make him wary of me. He’d been cordial but distant all afternoon. I’d expected it to a degree. After all, I was the new guy in Jake’s life. Other than Nate, most of his friends had known him as half of another couple, Jake and Derek. I’d met Derek. I knew I was nothing like him. No doubt the only thing we had in common was the color of our skin.

I flashed him a brilliant grin and raised my wineglass, thinking
fuck it
. I was here for Jake. Nate could think what he wanted. This wasn’t about him. In my current tipsy state, I wasn’t sure what it was about, but I wouldn’t let anyone’s unwanted opinion bother me.

N
ATE
’
S
HOUSE
was a huge oceanfront property in the Silver Strand Beach area. The contemporary three-story home featured a bank of massive retractable windows leading directly to the sand and remarkable views of the Pacific. I wasn’t crazy about the stark design. Supermodern contemporary wasn’t necessarily my cup of tea, but the quality of the construction and the materials used were obviously top-notch. The designer in me appreciated the tall ceilings, open spaces, and environmentally-conscious, decorative elements. However, I preferred my tiny Spanish bungalow in WeHo with its original hardwood flooring and arched doorways. I loved the character of old architecture with its surprising nooks and crannies. Plus I couldn’t imagine living alone in a home this size. It was positively ginormous.

Others arrived soon after the shuttle dropped us off at the beach house, and before long the austere atmosphere was infused with music, laughter, catered Mexican food, and yes, more alcohol. It didn’t matter that I only knew Jake and had just met a couple of his friends earlier in the day. I was in my element. Give me a cocktail or three, music, and pleasant people to talk to, and I was set. It wasn’t until later I realized that other than Nate and Julie, most of the others were firefighters. Even the married couple from the wine tour, Ron and Lisa, had met each other and Jake at the Oxnard Fire Academy and were both employed with the Ventura Fire Department. I should have known, I thought, as I looked over the party attendees. They were all fit and fine. And for the most part, heterosexual.

Perhaps my steady diet of wine during the day, followed by fruity margaritas later in the afternoon, clouded my vision slightly, but I never felt as though his friends were threatened or unnerved by my tendency to be… overly fabulous, shall we say, when in full party mode. Or maybe Jake had already told them about me. Or warned them about me, I thought with a giggle.

“You doing okay, party boy?” Jake whispered in my ear.

I was standing in the kitchen nibbling on tortilla chips and chatting with Julie and a guy whose name I’d never remember when I felt Jake’s hands circle my hips from behind. I leaned into his chest before turning in his arms. I nodded as I smiled up at him dreamily and kissed his chin.

Jake chuckled softly. “Hmm. Come with me. Let’s get some fresh air.”

I smiled and started to speak when Nate came by, twirling a white volleyball expertly on one finger before popping it up in the air and catching it.

“Let’s move it while we have daylight. Are you two on the same team, or should we split you up to keep things interesting?”

I turned to Jake. “What’s he talking about?”

“The annual birthday volleyball tournament. We’re not giving up this tradition, Jake, my man. Let’s go!” Nate stepped aside to wrangle other partygoers, enlisting Julie’s help to corral everyone outside.

Jake looked pensively out toward the wide-open windows leading to the beach and a volleyball net I must have purposely missed when I’d stood on the patio earlier. Sports and sand. Pass.

“Tradition, eh?” I asked with a small smile.

He swallowed and let out a half laugh before glancing over at me. “Yeah. You could say that.” He took a long sip from his water bottle. “Um… look, I’ll make an excuse. You don’t have to—”

“Happy birthday.”

No way. Derek the Divine stood a couple of feet away looking outrageously gorgeous. He was dressed for an evening beach party in a pair of nice khaki shorts and a deep green collared shirt that made his eyes pop. His demeanor was careful but friendly, as though he wasn’t sure what his reception would be but was hoping for the best. Jake gave him a bewildered look but recovered much faster than me.

“Thanks. Uh, hey, do you remember Brandon? Brandon, this is Derek. Der—”

“Of course. A near collision on Melrose. I remember. How are you?” Derek stuck out his hand in greeting.

I shook it with a phony smile pasted on my face. Why was he here looking so damn polished and suave? Everything about him screamed confidence and control, from his perfectly pressed designer clothes to his aristocratic air. He looked like he belonged. After all, these were his friends, and the man I was with was the man he wanted back. His very presence was a statement. I was the interloper. The odd man out. Sure, I was confident but not in a cool, controlled way. I was more like a firecracker looking for a spark. Derek’s polar opposite. I had a feeling Nate had taken one look at me earlier in the day and decided to intervene.

I took a brief glance around me, immediately sensing a change in the atmosphere. Everyone was clandestinely waiting to see what would happen. My smile was a tad evil as I snaked my arm around Jake’s waist so we were fused at the hip.

“I’m good. Thanks.” My voice sounded huskier than normal.

The three of us shared an uncomfortable silence. In fact, it seemed like the entire party went noticeably quiet. I might as well give them something to talk about.

“Ready to play volleyball, honey?” I heard myself say aloud.

Jake’s expression was priceless. A cross between suspicion and surprise. I flashed him a smile I hoped would convey my best intentions. This day wasn’t about me. This was for Jake. I wanted him to be happy and relaxed. Not troubled by the oddity of ex and former ex slash current man together at his birthday party. I felt the need to step out of my comfort zone for his sake. I was going to suck at this and probably make a complete idiot of myself. So be it. He’d no doubt get a good laugh out of watching me get smacked with a volleyball a few times too.

“Bran. You don’t have to play. It’s fi—”

“I want to.” I stepped aside and kicked off my shoes, carelessly tossing them with everyone else’s near the back door.

Jake looked from my expensive shoes to me and back again. He shook his head in confusion and made a funny face. “Are you—”

“Brandon’s on my team. Don’t try to win him over to the dark side, Westley,” Julie chided, pulling at my arm and leading me outdoors. “Oh, hi, Der. You playing?”

“Uh, no. I’ll watch for a minute. I’m not staying.”

I looked back, hoping Jake was close behind. He was standing in the doorway, his wavy hair blowing in his eyes as he turned to speak to Derek. A jealous fever heated my face. The same feeling I’d had when I saw them walking together the day I’d stepped in front of a Jeep. I shook my head and willed myself to find a happy place. A game of volleyball was the last place I’d think to look, but I was coming up blank.

I kept my attention focused on the horizon as I made my way barefoot through the cool sand to stand where Julie instructed in front of the volleyball net. The summer sun was low, but there were easily a good couple of hours of daylight to play. Fuck. I glanced at Julie, who was doing a funny up and down jump. Was I supposed to do that too?

“Psst, Julie!” I whispered loudly.

“Ready to kick ass? Watch out for Nate. He likes to win, and he hits the ball hard, so—”

“Right. Uh… what exactly am I supposed to do? Just get it over the net?”

Julie squinted at me curiously, as though she couldn’t tell whether or not I was fooling around. She must have sensed my growing panic. She gave me a small grin and hopped to my side, her curly blond hair bopping playfully in the breeze.

“It’s easy. The object is to get the ball over the net but also to aim for where they aren’t able to get to it. You’ll get the hang of it once we start.”

“Yeah. Right.” I took a deep breath and copied the stance of the guy on the other side of the net. He was leaning forward with his hands on his knees giving me a somewhat taunting look. Asshole.

Nate pronounced it was time to start once Jake took his place on his side of the net. Everyone agreed to a practice round to warm up, which was good and bad. Good because I wouldn’t lose the game for my team immediately, but bad because they’d realize fast I was worse than a weak link. I was a liability.

There were two teams with six people on each. Someone in the back row served and the ball went into play. I was standing in the front row, admiring the bracelet of the woman standing next to me, when the ball came straight at me. I caught it and threw it back over the net.

Everyone groaned. I glanced up curiously.

“What did I do?”

“Brandon, hit it over the net. Don’t catch it. Smack it. You can use an open hand or your fist, whatever you want. Okay?” Julie coached showing me how to hit it with my wrist.

“Aye aye, captain!” I said with a smile. I looked across the net at Jake, who was grinning sweetly at me. I waved, then set my hands on my knees and waited for the ball to come my way.

It didn’t. Whew. I was safe for a few passes and everyone on my team seemed pretty happy, so I figured we were winning. I slapped high fives and made a show of taking this volleyball business seriously.

“Let’s start. Our serve. Jake, you’re up!” Nate tossed him the ball before resuming a crouching stance.

Jake stood in the corner at the back line and pummeled the ball with his fist. It flew directly to the middle of our side. Someone called for it behind me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived; the next ball came straight for me. My instinct was to step aside for someone else to take but I knew it was mine. Well, maybe that was because the five other people on my side were screaming at me to hit it. I swallowed nervously as I bent my right arm and hit the ball hard, smacking it with the sensitive area between my wrist and elbow.

“Ow!” Fuck, that hurt.

But it went over. Unbelievable. Julie cheered wildly and gave me a high five. Chants of “good job” went around, and I realized I’d
actually scored a point. The desire to let out a loud triumphant cry was strong, but I went for nonchalance instead. Epic fail. My grin was so wide, my face hurt, and the matching one on Jake’s made me want to crawl under the net on all fours in the sand and throw myself at him. I managed to exercise restraint and pay attention to the game.

The only time my attention wavered from the ball was when Jake had it. He was so fucking sexy. I had a sudden high-school flashback to a baseball game our senior year. I’d pretended to go for the extra credit the math teacher was offering, but I was really there for Jake. We’d been secret lovers for the better part of that year and with the final weeks of school closing in, I was desperate to spend as much time with him as possible. He’d stood majestically on the pitcher’s mound, silently communicating with the catcher which pitch to throw. He’d explained to me earlier a short nod of his head meant they’d agreed on something. A slider, a curveball. I remembered those terms because Jake’s eyes had lit up when he spoke about them and everything inside me hummed with pleasure. He’d been so beautiful in the way confident young athletes were. Sure of their ability and eager to show off. I’d watched as he turned sideways on the mound, checked the outfield as he brought his mitt near his face and bent his left knee before unleashing the ball with full force. Everyone had gasped at his powerful arm. I remembered wishing I could claim him as mine. The feeling of déjà vu was so strong, I swore I could hear the crowd suck in a collective breath all these years later.

That was my last thought before I found myself sprawled flat on my back, staring up at the sky.

“Brandon, are you okay?” came at me in stereo. I was blinking rapidly and trying to focus when I felt a sloppy swath of saliva swipe across my cheek. Ew! I struggled to sit up and gently shoved Mack aside so he’d quit panting in my face.

“I’m fine, Mack. Don’t worry,” I whispered to my furry friend before standing to brave Jake and his friends. I was beyond embarrassed. I gave a funny, short laugh and waved one hand as if to say, “don’t mind me, I meant to do that.”