How the fuck did desire stir within him even under all this pain?
The tight clamp Dallas kept on his emotions gave a hard push back at the physical betrayal of his looming arousal. He’d fought the battle over his body’s natural erotic response to the same sex. Dallas had learned to tamp down his urges, bury them so deep that he could almost pretend the feelings weren’t even there.
His anxiety threatened to skyrocket. He took a deep breath to hopefully calm the racing of his heart.
No wonder he’d drunk so much last night. Greer’s attention had been unwavering and utterly seducing. Dallas’s body warmed and tingled all over, even as his gut churned with the worry of what that meant. He needed to stop this before it went too far.
Until now, Dallas had thought he’d learned to manage his sexual orientation issues at the age of fourteen. His parents had tackled his curiosities head on with daily bible studies, a pastor who counseled him several times a week, and strict pray-the-gay-away summer camps. The consequences of his feelings, deemed unnatural, had been beat into him over and over for years.
Where had all this newfound guy-wanting come from? Guilt rushed through him. The weight of his inner struggle was too much to bear.
“Augh.” Dallas groaned as the anxiety spiked and his head throbbed. He sat on the edge of his bed, his feet planted firmly on the cold faux hardwood floor. His stomach roiled, making all the heavy thoughts from seconds ago fade. He doubled over, his arms hugging his waist as he fought the bile rising in the back of his throat.
“You smell awful. Skye said you threw up at the bar. I’m not sure you’re gonna be allowed back.”
Dallas figured Ducky added the last thought as opinion more than fact, but he was right in one thing: he felt like he smelled—awful.
“Here, take this.” Ducky’s palm appeared in his line of sight. He had Advil in one hand and a real Dr. Pepper can in the other. “Greer said water, but I think the carbonation and sugar will help you more right now. Then drink the water.”
Dallas saw the water bottle on the little table he used as a nightstand. Out of desperation, he took the can of soda, popped the top, and downed the Advil before taking a big swig of the sweet fizzy drink.
He did have a momentary reprieve from the pain as his body absorbed the soda. Then he reached for the water, forcing a large portion down.
“Do you want me to cancel the class?” Ducky asked.
“No.” His denial surprised him. He’d been thinking Ducky should cancel his entire day. But he had to go on as if none of this had ever happened. He knew the drill. Moving forward with his values intact would get him back on track. This was a blip in time, a simple attraction he’d get over, nothing more. “Let me take a shower and I’ll get on.”
Dallas stood slowly, feeling a little lightheaded and a lot bad.
Push through.
Mind over matter.
BikeBro.
What if Secret’s investors logged on today?
Okay, a sliver of motivation returned. Dallas pushed himself off the bed and wobbled toward the bathroom. “Can you bring me another water bottle and maybe some crackers or toast?”
“You don’t eat bread,” Ducky reminded him.
“I don’t drink soda either.” Dallas hoped those words came off as sarcasm, but the concern in Ducky’s gaze, and on his troubled face, showed he’d missed the mark. As he passed his brother, Dallas clamped a hand on Ducky’s shoulder. “I’m gonna be fine. It was just one night. Don’t worry about me.”
Without missing a beat, Ducky moved out from under Dallas’s hold, and loped off toward the kitchen. “If I don’t take care of you, no one else will. Including you.”
Most likely the truest words Ducky had ever said, but not a subject he wanted to broach right now, or ever really. Dallas shut the bathroom door behind him.
“Dry toast, if that’s okay. I’ll make it fast,” Ducky yelled.
A loud banging on the ceiling startled him, making him wince. Dallas lifted his eyes to the thudding coming from above.
“Sorry!” Ducky shouted to their upstairs neighbor.
Dallas refused anymore thought as he flipped on the shower’s faucet and stripped out of last night’s clothes.
=?=
Greer tossed the keys in the tray, pulling at the knot of his silk tie. He never missed a stride as he headed toward his workout room. He had approximately three minutes to change and climb on the bike to begin his first spin class with Dallas as his instructor.
He didn’t let himself consider how rarely he left the office during working hours for any personal reason or how Dallas had a starring role in the loop playing inside his overactive head since leaving that tiny apartment early this morning.