Page 36 of The Aster Valley Collection, Vol. 1

TILLER

Spending the evening with Winter and Gent was way more fun than I’d expected.

When Mikey had first floated the offer of dinner to Winter, I’d bitten back a wince.

I wanted Mikey all to myself right now. I knew this time in Colorado was limited, and I wanted to spend as much of it as possible alone with my favorite person.

There was an unspoken understanding we wouldn’t be able to continue this…

whatever it was we were doing… when we returned home.

But Winter and Gentry were great company, and seeing Mikey’s pride as he served up each dish and answered Winter’s questions about his cooking was worth it. He was in his element. Mikey loved feeding people and having willing tasters to experiment recipes on.

Mikey sat down after serving dessert. “Is it true everyone in Aster Valley is gay?” he asked with a teasing smile. “We haven’t been here very long and we’ve only met gay dudes. Not that I’m complaining.”

Gent chuckled. He was the lead singer of one of Mikey’s favorite bands, and when Mikey had opened the door earlier to see the singer/songwriter standing there, he gasped loudly enough to wake hibernating bears nearby.

It had only taken a couple of glasses of wine to calm Mikey down enough to remember Gentry Kane was a regular guy despite being the lead singer of GUS.

“Then you’ve had an unusual experience. When I moved here, it felt like Pim and Bill were the only gay guys around.

They’d dealt with some homophobia early on, but it started getting better several years ago.

I think Truman’s the only one who’s had any bad experiences lately, but I think that has more to do with his history here than his sexuality.

Our friends Mindy and Mia are always mistaken for sisters, but that’s because they really do look alike.

For the most part, it’s becoming an artistic little town that seems to be attracting more and more LGBT folks. ”

Mikey frowned. “What do you mean about Truman? Does he get bullied?”

Winter leaned in to reach for the wine bottle. As he poured his husband a refill, he began to tell us the story of Truman’s role in the ski slope shutdown.

“This was right before the Salt Lake Olympics. Langdon Goode was training here before heading off to Salt Lake. Truman’s dad managed the resort at the time.

Anyway, Truman was a kid—maybe four or five?

—and had always wanted to try his grandfather’s old metal sled.

So one night he snuck it out and took it for a spin on the slopes.

The moon was pretty full, I guess, because he said he saw a mountain lion at the edge of the slope.

Scared him shitless. He took off running for home, not even thinking about the sled he left behind. ”

Gent took over the story. “Poor kid. It snowed all night. Goode was excited for the first run on fresh powder the next morning. He had special early access to the lift. Took the run down and just so happened to ski right into the hidden metal sled.”

Winter shook his head. “Fucked up his knee. ACL, MCL, the works. Not only was he done for the season, he was never able to get back to the same level again. Ruined his career.”

I winced. I’d heard a hundred stories of pro athletes experiencing a career-ending injury, but it never got easier to hear. Especially when the kid was on the verge of finally realizing his dream in the Olympics.

Mikey sighed. “Poor Truman. He was just a kid.”

Winter nodded. “Apparently, the whole town blamed him, and his parents were the worst of the whole lot. As soon as they were put out of business, they upped stakes and moved away. Durango, I think? Truman had a shit time of it after that from what I’ve been able to glean from other people in town.”

Mikey leaned forward. “Why’d he come back here? I’d think he’d want a fresh start somewhere else.”

Gent was the one who answered. “His aunt owned a large property with a greenhouse at the edge of town. She grew vegetables and sold them at the local farmer’s market in the summer. She died a few years ago and left him her place.”

“But he’s so young,” I said. If he’d been around five before the 2002 Olympics, that would put him in his early twenties.

Gent nodded. “He was eighteen when he inherited the property. Moved back when he was nineteen. We think it was to get away from his toxic family. He hasn’t been to college or anything. He’s completely self-taught.”

I was impressed. And I could see the same thoughts running through Mikey’s head. We’d liked the guy, and hearing his story made me want to protect him from anyone who would blame a kid for an honest mistake. I couldn’t imagine carrying the burden of the accident around like that.

“And he’s still getting hassled for it here in town?” I asked.

Gent held up his hands in a shrug. “He says no, but Pim and Bill have witnessed some bullshit from a group of assholes called the Stanner brothers. Their dad, Gene Stanner, was the head mechanic for the lifts. When the lifts stopped, Gene’s employment stopped.

Instead of finding another job nearby in Steamboat or at any of the other three hundred ski lifts in Colorado, I guess he just stayed here and whipped up a boatload of hate instead.

It doesn’t help that the sheriff is Erland Stanner, Gene’s brother. ”

“Fuck,” Mikey said. “Poor Truman.”

Gentry sighed. “Yeah, the rest of us try and look out for the kid as much as possible. Pim and Bill treat him like one of their own.”

Mikey quickly turned the conversation around to what eligible bachelors might be in town for us to set Truman up with so he could have a built-in bodyguard. Gent laughed and shook his head. “Truman already has a boyfriend.”

We both stared at him in surprise. “He does?” Mikey asked. “Who?”

Winter responded. “Mr. Balderson, the librarian. Bit of a May-December situation, but who am I to judge?”

Mikey asked a million nosy questions and ended up in a full-on Aster Valley gossip session before long.

He got the scoop on everyone in town which was pointless since we were only here for a few more weeks.

But I could understand his interest. The people of Aster Valley were diverse and unique.

Winter described artists and homesteaders, outdoor enthusiasts and small-business owners.

It sounded like a close-knit place with tons of personality, and I could immediately picture Mikey thriving in a place like this.

It was much more suited to his eclectic, creative self than hanging out with a bunch of football players in a big city.

Which, of course, made me unsteady. What if the Civettis really did have an opportunity for Mikey?

Gent leaned over and spoke softly just to me. “How long have you two been together?”

He caught me by surprise. “Oh. We’re not really… I mean…”

Understanding crossed his face. “You really like him, though.”

“So much,” I said without thinking. “More than I even realized.”

He moved his chair closer to mine and hid his words behind a sip of his wine. “Is it the job? Because I totally get it. We had a similar situation because of my job. The media had a field day when they discovered I was in a serious relationship.”

Mikey stood to clear the table while he was still chatting happily with Winter. We tried to get up and help him, but he waved Gent and me off. “Stay where you are. Winter said he’d help. I want to write down a recipe for him anyway.”

Once they’d moved from the dining room to the kitchen, Gent turned back to me. “I thought you were out, though?”

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. “I am. That’s not the problem. Mikey is my coach’s youngest son.”

Gent winced. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. But there’s more. Mikey had a relationship with the last football player he worked for, and I think he’s embarrassed by hooking up with me because he’s afraid people will think less of him for sleeping with his boss. Twice.”

“What are you going to do when you get home?”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands over my face. It was nice to finally be rid of the sling. “Beg him?” I suggested with a laugh. “I can’t even think about the possibility of this being temporary. But I can’t ask him to hide either.”

Gent seemed to think it through for a minute before meeting my eyes with a twinkling glance. “Then we need a plan.”

As we brainstormed and laughed together, not really coming up with any kind of actual plan other than Gent’s advice to fuck the media and do what made me happy, I realized how refreshing it was to be around guys I could be completely open with.

Even though they’d been strangers only that morning, Gent and Winter were easy to be around.

My closest teammates all seemed pretty cool with my sexuality, but it was different being with guys who really got it.

I didn’t have to put any of my thoughts or actions through a filter, and I hadn’t realized how exhausting that was.

Once they’d said their goodbyes and Winter had said he’d be back for another therapy session the following afternoon, Gent and Winter hopped into their pickup truck and headed down the drive into the starry night.

“God, that was fun,” Mikey said, turning back into the warm house. “I like them a lot.”

I agreed. “And your soufflé was puffy enough to impress the pants off them.”

Mikey’s reaction was oddly pensive, but I knew deep down he was proud of himself for how it had turned out.

I reached out for Mikey’s waist and turned him back toward me. “C’mere.”

His lips tasted like sweet chocolate from the cup of cocoa he’d had after dinner. I kissed him as long as I could until he started getting antsy.

“Take me to bed,” he said, ripping his lips off mine. “Now. Please.”