Page 1 of Joey’s Trick

1

T he more miles which grew between his new life and the old one the more anxious Joey became. When he’d gone off to the University of Central Florida in Orlando after high school, he’d sworn he’d never go back, no matter what. His mother had tried everything to get him to come home for summer vacation, Thanksgiving, even Christmas, but Joey refused every time claiming he needed to study or to work. It wasn’t a long drive to Fort Lauderdale, but sometimes he felt like the two hundred and fifty miles still wasn’t enough to separate him from the entire reason he’d chosen to leave and never go back.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel in agitation. He’d rather have bamboo shoots shoved underneath his fingernails than go home. The idea of facing Patrick ‘Trick’ Harrison, high school all-star quarterback and all-around asshole, caused his stomach to clench and sweat to build over his body in anxiety. Joey had known Trick his entire life. His older brother Anthony had been best friends with Trick since Joey was in diapers.

Joey could still remember the day his world shifted, and he’d gone from being a starry-eyed teenager to being a tarnished, bitter young adult. The memory had never left him and he carried it with him always, using it as fuel to push himself, to give no one else the power to hurt him. That fire was why he’d gotten a promotion so quickly after being hired as an intern straight out of college at a sports agency where he already had more than one client under his belt, including the Heisman Trophy winner Wesley Prince. His bosses had been ecstatic at his landing a big win like Prince. What they didn’t know was Prince’s proclivities in the bedroom. The reason Joey landed the contract with Prince had nothing to do with the deal he’d negotiated with the Dallas Cowboys, and more to do with the fact that Prince liked the size of Joey’s cock and that he knew how to use it.

A road sign appeared up ahead stating Fort Lauderdale was only a mere twenty miles away and Joey scowled, his heart thumping hard in his ribcage. He hated what he felt right then and how he could still feel it after all these years. It didn’t matter that he worked out two hours a day to maintain a flawlessly sculpted body, or how he kept his dirty blond hair styled deliberately unkempt so it fell into his dark green eyes precisely, or how he’d perfected his smile which could charm his way into any man’s pants. None of it mattered when it came down to how Trick made him feel inside. Like he was still the same nerdy, slightly chubby dork who’d followed him and Anthony around with hero worship in his eyes.

Joey had known from the time he’d turned thirteen he wasn’t interested in girls. He’d had eyes for no one but Trick. He’d noticed the way Trick’s body filled out, the way his muscles flexed when Trick and Anthony played football in the backyard, the way he smiled and the dimple that popped out whenever he did. Joey had seen the way he’d shot up an entire foot over the summer just before Anthony and Trick started high school. It wasn’t until Joey followed them into high school though, a year behind them, that Joey realized Trick would never see him the way he wanted him to.

He’d maintained a fantasy in his head of Trick coming out as gay and sweeping Joey off his feet, the two of them being a couple at Trick’s senior prom, the entire package. But then Joey started seeing Trick walking down the hallways of their high school with a new pretty girl on his arm almost every week. The knowledge Trick liked girls cracked Joey’s fantasy wide open, but it wasn’t until much later when he truly broke Joey’s heart.

Shaking his head, Joey refused to acknowledge the memories. He would get through the next week if it killed him and go back to his life. He had a good life and he sure as hell wouldn’t let Trick- fucking -Harrison ruin it. With resolve straightening his spine, Joey took his exit into Fort Lauderdale and made his way toward his childhood home, refusing to give into the insecurities he’d buried so long ago. Trick didn’t deserve to have any kind of power over him.

Not much had changed in the time he’d been gone. Some neighborhoods looked more run down, whereas others had been built up, but Fort Lauderdale itself had the same familiar feel and Joey navigated the streets with ease. He didn’t even realize until he pulled into the packed driveway how hard he had his jaw clenched as he worked to loosen it by taking a deep breath, holding it for a couple of seconds, and letting it out. He stared at the house he’d called home for eighteen years. It was a single-story contemporary style house painted light green with white trim.

His mom loved flowers and several varieties trimmed the driveway and sidewalks, but Joey couldn’t have named them for the life of him. An American flag drifted lazily in the breeze near the front door and he could see his parents had added some kind of covered two-person swing to the porch.

The entire scene transported him back to when his parents used to have huge barbecues in the summer and all the kids would play with the hose out back while the adults would sit around the picnic tables laughing and drinking beer. He’d still been enamored with Trick back then and, to his consternation, his heart ached in his chest for the much simpler time it had been. Joey mentally slapped himself for even thinking of Trick.

“Joey!” a female voice cried out.

He winced and forced a smile onto his lips before climbing out of the car. His t-shirt immediately clung to him from the humidity after being in the air-conditioned interior of his recently bought moonstone metallic BMW Alpina B7. He hadn’t even received the new plates yet. “Hey, Aunt Susan.”

“Come here and give me a hug, you sight for sore eyes!” she screamed from the front porch.

Joey stuffed his keys in his jeans pocket and wove his way between the other cars to where she stood, engulfing her slender five-foot-four frame against his six-foot-two muscular one. She hugged him as tight as she could before stepping back. “Look at you! My goodness, Joseph Waters! You’ve certainly grown into a fine man. You put on some muscles there. Of course, your mother showed us the pictures, but seeing it in person! I bet you’re beating the men off with a stick.”

His entire family knew he was gay since he’d come out to his parents and brother when he was sixteen. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life. He’d considered waiting after reading about some of the horror stories of others and how they’d been disowned by their families, thrown out of their homes, or worse, and feared the same treatment. But he knew his family loved him, and he’d held out faith his parents would still love him afterward. Thankfully, his faith hadn’t been misplaced, and they’d accepted it without blinking an eye. In fact, they’d told him they’d already known, shocking the hell out of him.

Joey blushed. “Thanks, Aunt Susan.”

She smiled at him. “So, how’s that job of yours? Your mother said you’re doing well at it.”

“It’s going great actually. I’m full time and even already have my own client list.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie. You really shouldn’t have waited so long to come home for a visit though. If you weren’t so big now, I’d bend you over my knee,” she threatened.

Joey laughed and fidgeted. “Yeah, just had a lot going on. I needed to get settled in my job and all.”

“Well, you better visit more often,” Aunt Susan said. “Your mother has missed you so much.”

Guilt stabbed Joey straight in the gut. “I’ll try, Aunt Susan.”

“Go on, get inside and say hello to your mom. She’s with your brother in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” Joey kissed her on the cheek and headed into the house. He was stopped several times on the way. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and other relatives, all happy to see him after so long, all exclaiming over how much he’d changed, and every one of them giving him a trip down shame lane for not coming home sooner. By the time he made it into the kitchen, he felt thoroughly wrung out.

His mom stood at the stove, her back to the door, hair disheveled as per her usual appearance when cooking for a large group of people. Anthony leaned against the counter nearby, a beer bottle in one hand and an arm thrown over the shoulders of a blonde woman. Recognition and delight flashed across the face so similar to Joey’s own. “Joey!” Anthony cried before releasing the woman to rush across the room to crush Joey in a bear hug.

Anthony was only an inch taller than Joey, but there the differences halted. They had the same dirty blond hair, dark green eyes, and now, muscular builds. Anthony had apparently kept up his workouts despite no longer being on the college football team.

“Hey, bro,” Joey greeted quietly. It disturbed him how quickly he’d noticed the lack of Trick in the house.

His mother had turned away from the stove, her hands on her hips, elbows out. “Joseph Richard Waters!”

Joey grimaced as Anthony stepped back out of the line of fire at the tone in their mother’s voice. “Hey, Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘Hey, Mom’ me, young man! Seven years! Seven years!” There’d been multiple times where she’d threatened to drive up there with his father over the years when he hadn’t come home, but he’d talked her out of it. He’d used school and then work obligations to convince her, usually throwing in a casual offer of attempting to come home at a later date. Only he never did.

Flinching, Joey tried to turn on the grin he knew killed in the contract negotiations, but his mother seemed immune to it as she stalked toward him. Her hand flew out, and she smacked him on his right bicep. He winced. “Moooom!” he whined and then kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly.

“You may be taller and outweigh me, Joseph Waters, but I can still put you over my knee. I brought you into this world and I can take you out!” She returned his hug and then stepped back and narrowed her eyes at him as she studied him, looking for evidence he wasn’t taking care of himself. Her mouth flattened into a thin line when she saw the tattoo sticking out of the edge of his T-shirt. “And you got a tattoo!”

“Aw crap,” Anthony muttered nearby.

Joey glared at his brother and then tried to give his mom a sheepish grin. “I was drunk?” he said, lying through his teeth. He hadn’t really been drinking, but he knew how his mother felt about tattoos and didn’t want to tell the truth about why he’d gotten it or the others that weren’t visible.

“As if that makes it better! What those people up there must think about how you were raised!” she squawked as she shoved the sleeve of the shirt up to get a better look at the tattoo.

Thick lines of black ink swirled around his bicep up along his shoulder and higher still. She didn’t have to be an expert at tattoos to know it took more than a couple of hours to complete. Her mouth flattened into a thin line as she glared at him and she let his sleeve drop over the tattoo. Joey didn’t plan on letting her know about the others he had on his chest, calves, and on the back of his shoulders, the most important one. He’d gotten it the day he’d realized he had to let go of his past or it would swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Things are different in Orlando. Besides, it’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

His mother reached up and cuffed him on the back of the head. “No, it’s not pretty cool. I didn’t raise a hoodlum.”

“Tattoos don’t make you a hoodlum, Mom!” Joey protested while he heard Anthony choking back laughter nearby. He tossed a glare at Anthony, whose face was bright red from suppressed chuckles while hanging onto the blonde woman, who looked amused at the exchange. Joey fought the urge to duck his head and hide like he would have as a teenager and held his head higher. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and he didn’t intend to let his family destroy the confidence he’d built over the last seven years. No fucking way.

“I can’t wait to hear what your father has to say about them.”

Joey sighed. His father wouldn’t care, he felt sure. The man hadn’t so much as batted an eye when Joey announced he was gay or when he didn’t want to try out for the football team in high school like Anthony had. “Speaking of, where is Pop?”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily,” she snapped. “But your father is out back with Bob setting up the grill.”

“Trick’s out helping them,” Anthony added.

Joey stiffened. So Trick was there. He’d been hoping Trick wasn’t around. Too much to ask, he supposed. Taking a deep breath, he prayed didn’t appear visible to the others, Joey pasted one of his infamous fake smiles on and winked at Anthony. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friend here and then I’ll head out back to say hi to Pop?”

“Shit, of course. Sorry, baby. This is my little brother, Joey. Joey, this is my girlfriend, Veronica.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Veronica held out her hand and Joey accepted it. She was Anthony’s usual type; petite, slender, with large breasts, long blonde hair, and big green eyes. Although he noticed one thing, there was intelligence in this one. He could see it in her eyes. She smiled at him and Joey’s grin widened, becoming sincere.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Veronica. How long have you two been together?”

“Six months,” she replied. “He’s told me a lot about you.”

“I deny every bit,” Joey deadpanned.

She laughed. “Somehow, I don’t doubt some of it’s true. I don’t want to keep you as I’m sure you’re eager to say hi to your dad, but I hope we have time to talk again while you’re here.”

“I’m sure we will. Make sure you keep this one on his toes, yeah?” Joey slapped Anthony on the stomach lightly with the back of his hand.

Anthony grunted. “She already does.”

Veronica smirked. “He has no idea what he got himself into.”

“I bet,” Joey said. “All right, going to head outside to say hi to the rest of the family and Pop. Is my old room open or did you convert it into a storage room or something, Mom?”

His mother turned away from where she’d resumed watching over whatever she was cooking to answer. “It’s still your old room. I didn’t change anything, except for the bed. Trick was staying here for a while and your old twin was too small.”

Startled, Joey’s brows went up in shock. What the hell? “What?”

Anthony shuffled in discomfort while their mom shook her head. “Long story for another time, sweetie. Go say hi to your father. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

Why the hell had Trick been staying in his room? Joey tried to think of a reason as he stepped out onto the deck overlooking the large backyard, barbecue smoke immediately assaulting his nose and making his stomach growl. He’d been too nervous to eat before leaving Orlando and he suddenly found himself ravenous at the smell of cooking hamburgers. Several tables had been set up and lined with chairs currently occupied by even more family members who waved at him from where they were seated. Joey returned the waves, smiling at several of the kids running around. He felt almost out of sync with his family now, since he’d been away for so long.

“Is that Joey?” a voice boomed near the grill and Joey winced, but hid it quickly.

“Hey, Uncle Bob,” Joey greeted, moving forward to accept the backslapping hug. He embraced his father next. “Hi, Pop.”

His father looked like he’d aged more than the seven years Joey had been away and Joey experienced the same stab of guilt from before. Joey no longer had to raise his head to meet his father’s gaze. They were exactly the same height now and were pretty close to the spitting image of one another. Only his father’s hair had gone completely gray and Joey could see lines around his dad’s eyes and mouth which hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen him.

“You’re looking well, Joseph.”

Another difference between the world and his father, everyone called him Joey except his dad. Joey smiled softly at the familiar baritone of his full name. “Thanks, Pop. So are you.”

“Don’t need to lie to your old man.” His dad scoffed and turned back to the grill.

Joey chuckled. “You’re not an old man, Pop.”

“Make him show you his tattoo, Walter.” Joey heard his mom call from the kitchen window and Joey groaned, covering his face with a hand for a second.

His dad raised a brow at Joey, spatula poised over a burger. “Brave man.”

Joey almost laughed, but it died in his throat when he heard the familiar smooth tenor of the one voice he’d never forgotten, no matter how hard he’d tried. “Hey, Joey.”

Stiffening, Joey swallowed several times and then kept his face blank as he looked at the man who’d shattered him with a few careless words. “Trick.”

Trick still took Joey’s breath away. The years had been generous to Trick and had only made him more handsome. Dark brown hair, as sinful as chocolate melted over heated skin, drifted lazily in the soft breeze blowing through the backyard, making Joey itch to reach out and brush it away from Trick’s sculpted cheekbone. Sapphire blue eyes studied Joey like they could see right through to the heart of who he was and it took every ounce of strength Joey had to not fidget under the watchful gaze. Joey took in the way the white t-shirt Trick wore clung in just the right ways to the carved muscles of Trick’s upper body and how the tight blue jeans, ripped in several places to show tantalizing glimpses of tanned thighs, hugged every inch of Trick’s long legs, straight down to the dark brown hiking boots he wore. Joey wanted to rail at just how good the years had been to Trick. He wanted to shove Trick off the deck and beat the ever-living hell out of him for what he’d put him through. He wanted to throw Trick down onto the ground and latch onto those gorgeous full lips of his and drink from them until they both couldn’t breathe. Fuck, his cock was getting hard just thinking about Trick’s thick muscular body pinned beneath his, their stiff pricks grinding against one another.

Scowling, Joey spun away from Trick and strode over to a cooler nearby where he opened it to grab a beer. He needed a second to cool off and to get his head on straight. What the fuck was wrong with him? How could Trick still affect him after all this time?

“You look good, Joey,” Trick said, having followed him to the cooler.

Joey grunted, wrenched the top off the beer and swigged down several mouthfuls. He didn’t respond. He noticed Trick’s frown.

“Something wrong?” Trick asked.

A bitter laugh welled up in Joey’s throat and he glared at Trick. He knew Trick didn’t know he’d overheard what Trick had said that day, but for Trick to act like they were best friends when Joey knew what Trick thought of him was too much. He couldn’t stop the words from exploding from his lips even if he’d wanted, and he was thankful none of his family were within earshot. “Fuck you, Trick.”

Joey set his beer down on the nearby railing and stomped off, satisfaction roaring through him at Trick’s astonished expression. He made it through the house and out to his car before Trick caught up to him. The trunk popping sounded loud in the silence after the raucous conversations and ear rattling music inside the house. Joey gripped the handle of his duffle bag and the small suitcase he’d brought with him for the week and yanked them out of the trunk. He set the suitcase down on the ground and slung the duffle bag over his shoulder. Trick stood to his left when Joey slammed the trunk closed.

“What was that about, Joey?” Trick demanded, anger and bewilderment clear on his handsome features.

Instead of answering Trick, Joey picked up the suitcase and brushed past Trick. Except Trick didn’t seem to want to let go of the subject because he grabbed hold of Joey’s arm to stop him. Joey growled and almost swung the suitcase at Trick, turning a harsh gaze on Trick for daring to touch him. Rage bubbled through him and the desire to unleash the resentment and fury he’d held all these years on Trick simmered underneath the surface. “Let go of me,” Joey bit out through tightly clenched teeth.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck your problem is.”

Joey gave Trick an incredulous stare. “I would think you’d be happy I don’t want you around me, Trick. After all, you hate fags, don’t you?”

The color in Trick’s face leeched away and Joey thought it would have felt good to see Trick feel some of the pain he’d felt all these years, but all Joey could feel was anger and bitterness. “Yeah, I heard you, Trick. I heard you call me a fag and I heard you tell your friends how pathetic I was. How I was a loser and that I wanted your cock so bad, but you’d never deign to let a “faggot” like me anywhere near your precious dick. So if you think for one second I want anything to do with you, Patrick , you need to get the fuck away from me before I beat the shit out of you. You got me?”

Trick released him and stumbled backward. “Joey, I-”

“I don’t want to hear any lies or excuses. You can go fuck yourself and whatever bimbo you dragged with you to the party, Patrick . Now stay the hell away from me before I forget this is my parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary and I kick your ass.” Joey tagged Trick’s shoulder on his way past Trick into the house. He didn’t care that it really didn’t make him feel better, that all it did was make his stomach twist farther into knots and caused sour bile to settle into the back of his throat.

He stomped up the stairs to his old bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him before tossing his duffle onto the bed and setting the overnight suitcase down by the dresser. The surge of emotions left him and he suddenly felt drained. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, he covered his face with his hands and took a few deep breaths. God, not even an hour and he already wanted to get back into his car and head home to Orlando. Could he survive an entire week here? Why had he agreed to it in the first place?