Love Match (Love Match 1)

Jesse’s face flamed a bright red. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Luke put the tray down on the bed. “Find anything interesting?”

“I’m sorry, I was looking for…well, I just shouldn’t have been looking. It was wrong.”

“What were you looking for?” Luke crossed his arms over his chest.

If possible, Jesse went even redder and mumbled something under his breath.

“What?”

“I said I was looking for toys.” His eyes were downcast.

“Toys?” Luke asked, confused.

“You know,” Jesse sighed, exasperated, “for sex.”

Luke couldn’t help but laugh. “You were looking for sex toys?”

“Yeah, I’m a huge pervert, okay?” Jesse looked anywhere but at Luke.

“Yeah, it’s more than okay.” Luke sighed, the anger drained away.

“But I found all these pictures.” Jesse picked one up, and finally looked at Luke with uncertainty. “He was your coach. Nikolai Urmanov, right?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah.”

“I remember when he died. It was awful.”

Luke swallowed hard. It was surreal to talk to Jesse about it. “A drunk driver plowed into him head on. They said he died instantly.” He felt the familiar prick of tears and his voice wavered. “He went out to pick up some groceries and just never came back. He was just…gone. No warning, no chance to say goodbye.”

Jesse was silent for a few moments as he looked at the picture in his hand. “He was your boyfriend, wasn’t he?”

Luke blew out a deep breath. “Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Seven years. Not long after he started coaching me.”

“I had no idea. Well, obviously. Wow, you guys sure hid it well. I never suspected a thing, even when I was having whack-off fantasies of you every night.” Jesse stopped suddenly. “God, I’m sorry. I’m rambling.” He quietly added, “You must have loved him a lot.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“And you’ve…you’ve just been alone since it happened?”

“I’ve picked up a guy at a bar here and there. But it was just sex. No sleeping over, no kissing, no…emotions.” Luke’s stomach fluttered and he cleared his throat. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking.

“So that’s why you freaked out that day at your house when I kissed you.”

“Yeah.”

“And then after what happened in the parking lot?”

“I meant what I said; it wasn’t you. It was me.”

Jesse carefully laid the picture down on the bed with the others and walked to Luke. “I’m sorry I snooped around. I don’t want you to think that you can’t trust me.”

“It’s okay.” Luke waved his hand. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. It’s good…good that you know the truth. I should have told you before.”

Jesse inched closer and slipped his arms around Luke’s waist. “Yeah, you probably should have. But it’s okay. I understand. I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy sometimes.” Luke couldn’t think of anything else to say, but he didn’t have to. Jesse just hugged him tightly, pressing tender kisses to his shoulder. Luke hugged him back, feeling like some more weight had lifted from his shoulders.

They eventually sat down on the bed and Luke looked at the congealed bacon and eggs dispiritedly. “Breakfast in bed isn’t looking so hot anymore.”

Jesse bit his lip. “Shit, I’m sorry. You made me breakfast and everything.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to be punished,” Luke arched his eyebrow. “Maybe we’ll go toy shopping later.”

Jesse giggled, kissing him soundly. Soon they stretched out on the bed, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten.

The skies over Miami were heavy with rain, and all the players picked up the pace of the game, trying to finish it while they still could. Jesse and Luke were losing to a couple of guys from Sweden, and since he was into the semis in singles, Luke really didn’t mind. Not that he’d admit that to Jesse. Jesse had lost in the first round to one of the top seeds.

“Fifteen-thirty,” the umpire called out. If Jesse wasn’t careful, his serve was going to be broken. He tossed the ball up and spun it over the net; one of their opponents put it away with a backhand that went just out of Luke’s reach.

“Fifteen-forty.”

Luke heard Jesse swear under his breath, which was rare for him. Usually no matter how badly things went, he kept his composure. Not that cursing was losing it—Luke swore at himself, his opponents, and the ump on a regular basis. He just tried to keep it inside his head. It worked sometimes.

Jesse double faulted on the next point and the game went to their opponents. It didn’t take long for the Swedes to finish them off, and as they packed up their stuff, the rain started to fall in big, fat drops. Luke began moving faster, cramming his things into his bag. But Jesse seemed to be in no rush and folded his towel carefully.

“Come on!” Luke called out over the sound of the rain that was fast becoming thunderous.

“Go on, I’ll see you inside,” Jesse said with a wave of his arm. The grounds crew was darting around them, covering up the court.