Page 62 of Out of Bounds

Brennan smiled with appreciation. Compliments made him weird, and compliments from Cliff sent goosebumps up his back. “I have to thank you. You’re kind of like my muse.”

“Huh. I knew that cut up gray shirt looked familiar. Now who’s the one stealing shirts?”

“I bought it myself.” Brennan threw in a cocky grin to underline his mock superiority. He wanted to reach for his hand and give it a squeeze, but restrained himself. He knew Cliff wouldn’t do that in public, even though they didn’t know any of the bougie restaurant patrons.

“You’re really talented,” Cliff said.

Brennan shrugged. He immediately thought of Paul and his statements to the contrary. They were branded into his brain.

“Why are you shrugging?”

“I like creating art, but I don’t know if I really have what it takes to be an artist.”

“That’s bullshit.” Cliff took a bite of his burger.

Brennan found himself taken aback by Cliff’s certainty.

“Who told you that?”

“My, uh…my professor down at FSA.” Brennan didn’t want to get into the whole sordid story of him and Paul.

“Aren’t professors supposed to build you up?”

“Yeah, and they’re also not supposed to bed their students. Shit happens.”

It was a wonder Cliff stayed in the closet for this long, because judging by the shocked reaction on his face, he seemed terrible at holding in his emotions.

Brennan sucked in a breath. “Yeah. I was one of those students who fell for his professor. I’m what every artist wants to be: a cliche.”

Each time he talked about it, he felt more disgusted by the whole thing. How could he have let himself fall for Paul and stay with him for so long? Was he that much of a kicked puppy?

“He sounds like an asshole.”

“I haven’t even told you about his worst qualities yet. He had the preternatural ability to make me feel like shit no matter the circumstance.”

Anger flashed on Cliff’s face, a look Brennan recognized when he was at his most competitive in tonight’s game. It was kinda hot.

“He was just being honest, though.” Brennan looked down at his plate, wishing he could get Paul’s words out of his head. When he looked back up, Cliff was staring at him with an intense gaze that twinkled in his golden eyes.

“Brennan, it’s not true. I know I’m just a jock who doesn’t know anything about art, but I think you’re an artist. I must’ve stared at your pieces for a good twenty minutes in the studio. I thought about them after I left.” Cliff tapped his foot under the table while his eyes never left him. “I believe in you.”

Cliff spoke with such confidence about him, such pride.I believe in you.His parents had never said that to him. Neither had Paul. Those four words unexpectedly fed his soul and made him feel powerful and loved.

Their waiter approached the table. “Have you decided what you’d like for your main course?”

Brennan and Cliff traded awkward looks.

“I think we’ll just stick with the sliders,” Brennan said.

Without saying another word or giving them another look, the waiter put their bill face down on the table and walked away.

Cliff gritted his teeth in an uncomfortable smile that matched Brennan’s feelings.

“Okay. That’s our cue to get the fuck out of here.”

“I guess we’re taking up a good table. I’m mostly full anyway. These hit the spot.” Cliff crammed one final slider in his mouth. It was not meant to be sexy, but it reminded Brennan of his deep-throating abilities.

Cliff went to take a sip of his Coke, but it was all ice. He grabbed Brennan’s pop and took a sip. Like with the dipping station, there was something natural and sweet about the gesture that made Brennan’s heart light up.