Page 126 of Rule 4: Never Get Stranded with a Sports Reporter

I resist the temptation to do so.

I have plans. Big ones.

Cal moved into my apartment three months after we started dating. Some people might have said it was early, but he was practically living there anyway, spending all his time in my apartment when I was playing home games, because we weren’t able to see each other during away games.

Cal’s my favorite person in the world, and we’ve already talked about which Boston suburb to move to later. Swanky apartments are wonderful, but eventually I’m going to retire. I would love to adopt and stay at home to care for them. Cal would be an awesome dad, and he says I’ll be one too, especially since I don’t plan to use Dad and Gramps as role models.

Cal and I visited Minnesota for Christmas, and Tennessee for New Year’s Eve. Cal loved Mom’s cookies, which she appreciated. I’ve been spending more time with her. Apparently, she worried that I was a clone of Dad. She doesn’t mind at all that Cal and I are in a relationship, and Dad and Gramps like that they can talk to Cal about sports. They get a kick out of seeing him on TV, something he’s doing more and more these days, covering basketball.

I steer the jet ski into the water, Cal’s arms comfortably around my waist. I move slowly, because Cal is precious cargo, and I take the time to admire the turquoise and sapphire waves, studded with foam that sparkles with the force of diamonds and pearls.

“The ocean is so pretty.”

“Yes,” Cal says happily.

A few seagulls flit above us, and there’s a sailboat to our left with the hotel’s logo in big letters, but we’re basically by ourselves again.

I know the way this time.

I studied the map more times than was necessary last night, even though the hotel staff know perfectly well where we’re going, and I made sure to take off the do-not-disturb sign on our room.

In fact, my other pocket is filled with protein bars and sunscreen just in case.

Cal’s fingers clutch onto my waist, and I lean against him happily. My bulge swells, but it doesn’t matter. Cal knows I like him. He likes me too.

The jet ski bounces through the waves, rumbling its pleasant sound.

Finally, we reach our destination.

“That’s our island,” Cal says, his voice wondrous.

“Not the hotel recommended one.” The hotel wanted us to go to that one, but I insisted. This is where Cal and I fell in love, and this is where we’ll... Well, I don’t want to get ahead of myself.

I steer the jet ski to the beach, and make sure there’s no chance of it floating to sea.

Cal looks around. “God, Jason. I can’t believe we’re back.”

“Do you like it?” Maybe this wasn’t the best place to take him after all. “I was an asshole last time we were here. I’m so sorry.”

“You improved by the end,” he says.

“I’m glad you waited for me to get over myself.”

I take his hand and try to surreptitiously peer at the beach. I spot some red, and I smile. The hotel staff set everything up just how I wanted.

I take Cal’s hand and lead him toward the beach.

“Ready for lunch?” I ask.

“You going to show off your coconut skills again?” he asks.

“I had something else in mind,” I admit.

A crease appears on his forehead. It’s deeper than it was this time last year. It’s cute. I wonder what lines and wrinkleswill come next on his face. I wonder when his hair will turn a distinguished steel or whether it will just fall out.

With any luck, I’m going to witness all those changes, like he’ll witness all my changes.

We stroll toward the beach, and then Cal notices it.