Page 7 of Regret Me Not
“Well, you said you were here until Christmas Eve. I figure you came here to be alone and grumpy and pissed at the world, and you have a month to get over yourself. Mobility will help.”
Pierce scowled because that was incredibly astute—but he kept exercising so he might continue to breathe. “Where in the hell did you get that?” he demanded, surly as fuck. He’d shown up that morning all willing to accept Hal’s revoltingly happy goodwill and had, instead, been told to suck it up, buttercup, he was going to get his ass beat into the pool.
He’d had no idea such a darling child could be such a sadistic drill sergeant.
“Nine upper division units in psychology. Duh!”
Pierce managed a look at Hal’s face and saw the snarky smile that had charmed Pierce in the first place.
“To be a massage therapist?”
“Well, that’s just this year,” Hal informed him loftily. “I am a man of many ambitions.”
“You are a young flake with no direction,” Pierce deduced and then felt bad.
Hal shook it off like the proverbial duck. “Well, the massage therapist thing seems to be sticking,” he admitted. “I got the certificate online over the summer, and I’ve been getting my practice hours on the guys on the sports teams at school. And I’m a personal trainer and aqua instructor. I like knowing stuff that’ll help me help people.”
“Ah, so I’m a project.” Well, it made sense. Pierce had never been a looker—long bony jaw, narrow green eyes, sand-brown hair. The accident injuries just made his tall, awkward body look gnarled and misshapen. “It all becomes clear.”
He didn’t expect Hal to glare at him. “Yeah, well, like anybody over thirty, you can’t see for shit. Now tuck and boogie—no, don’t bend your knees, keep them straight and kick from the hip!”
Oh ouch.“What in the hell—were you a Roman general in a past life?”
Hal’s glare lightened up. “Those guys got play. You realize that, don’t you?”
It took Pierce a couple of moves to realize he was talking about sex. “Yeah,” he said, remembering something about that in college. “But only the gay or bi ones. No women for them.”
Hal crouched down at the pool’s edge and took off his sunglasses. “What about you?”
“I may have mentioned an ex-wife?” Pierce was embarrassed about that, actually. The whole divorce was embarrassing. In fact, so was the entire marriage.
“Yeah, but you never said anything about ex-boyfriends,” Hal wheedled. “Enquiring minds want to know!”
Oh God.Pierce could just put him off. Heshouldjust put him off. Or lie. Or not give in to his flirting. But all of Pierce’s energy right now was going into keeping up with this goddamned song!
“He was a sweet kid,” Pierce muttered. “An optimist. I was too cranky for him. Take a lesson.”
But of course that’s not what Hal heard. “I knew it!” he crowed, standing up and hopping on the edge of the pool. “I knew you were bent!”
As in “not straight.” Of course. “Only a little,” Pierce panted. “To the left.” He should have hated himself for adding to the play, but Hal chortled, and he couldn’t. So easy to make this kid smile. How long since Pierce thought he was capable of doing that?
A sudden shift in music caught Pierce’s attention. “Oh thank God,” he muttered to take the conversation away from sex. “Beastie Boys.”
“I thought you said you were only thirty-two!” Hal protested, and Pierce would have rolled his eyes, but he might have gotten them wet.
“Beastie Boys are forever!” he proclaimed, and continued to work his ass off to the soul-sweetening strains of “Sabotage.”
And then, to make life extra special, Hal gave him Coldplay for the cooldown.
It was like the kid cared.
Of course, Pierce should have known the grilling wouldn’t just stop there. He’d hoped, but Hal had proved nothing if not relentless.
“So,” he said slyly while working Pierce’s leg over in the hot tub. “Bent?”
Pierce grunted. “College-try bi,” he said flippantly, and Hal rewarded him with a thumb right in the middle of his arch. “Augh! Okay! Okay!” Hal fixed the cramp with his palm, and after a few moments, Pierce took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Loren. Loren Simpson. We met in our senior year, and we were both between girlfriends, and….” And… he could picture Loren’s face—blue eyes, earnestness, the fever flush that came over him when he came. “He was sweet,” Pierce said simply. “For a little while, it was true love.”
“Why’d it end?” Hal asked, his hands almost too gentle on Pierce’s calf to do any good.