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Ballsy
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Ballsy
Sean Ashcroft
Copyright © 2017 by Sean Ashcroft
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Prologue
Ten years ago…
“Thanks for driving me to the airport,” Sam said. It was the first he’d spoken since he got in the car in front of his apartment building.
Ben’s stomach was in knots. Sam was about to leave, forever, and he didn’t have the balls to ask him to stay.
“No problem,” he responded, smiling his most convincing smile. He knew Sam wouldn’t buy it, but he had to try anyway.
They were past the point where they had to tell each other the truth to know what it was. Sam was leaving because Ben couldn’t say one simple word.
Well, several single, simple words.
He couldn’t say stay.
He couldn’t say love.
He couldn’t even admit out loud that he was attracted to Sam. He’d never been able to admit it, no matter how much he wanted to. The stakes felt so high.
Ben was sure Sam thought he was a coward. Sure he was leaving because he couldn’t stand to wait around while Ben grew a pair and came out of the closet, screw the stakes.
They could both have been getting on a plane today. Starting a new life together.
Ben’s heart ached with the knowledge that they weren’t going to. That they couldn’t. That he’d finally managed to chase Sam away so he wouldn’t have to deal with his feelings anymore.
Sam took a deep, shaky breath, and let it out slowly. “Big moment,” he said. His return smile didn’t quite make it to his eyes.
Neither of them were happy about this. But maybe, without Ben to hold him back, Sam could have the life he wanted. The partner he wanted.
Instead of waiting around for someone who might never come around.
“I’ll miss you,” Ben said, his voice breaking. He was not going to cry in the middle of LAX. Not now. Not when it was too late to change anything.
Sam deserved better than him. He deserved better than someone who was so afraid of his own feelings he couldn’t admit them to the one person who they might actually matter to.
“Me too,” Sam said softly. “I’ll email you when I’ve got an internet connection.”
Ben nodded, not trusting himself with anything more than that. His heart was breaking, but he couldn’t afford to show it. Letting Sam go was the right thing.
Sometimes, the right thing hurt like hell. Ben’s father had often said that was how you knew it was right.
“Hey,” Sam nudged him gently. “This isn’t goodbye forever. It’s just au revoir.”
“Until we meet again.” Ben smiled wryly.
They both knew that was a lie. Their lives were splitting off in different directions, and that was the end of that.
“Right,” Sam said. “You won’t even have time to miss me. Promise.”
Ben took a deep breath, steeling himself and passing Sam’s other bag to him. “Okay. Au revoir, then.”
“You butchered that.” Sam smiled. Ben wasn’t positive, but he thought there were tears in Sam’s eyes, too.
“Yeah, well, some of us can’t get our tongues around that fancy French crap,” Ben defended. He’d never had Sam’s gift for languages, or his interest in them. English and the exact amount of broken Spanish he needed to get by in California had always been good enough for him.
“I’m not making any comment about what you can and can’t get your tongue around,” Sam said.
Ben swallowed. That was the problem, wasn’t it? There was a whole lot he couldn’t get his tongue around. Sam hadn’t meant it that way, but it still hit home.
The most important person in Ben’s world was two minutes from leaving him forever, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to stop it. The consequences were too big.
He was too afraid.
Ben opened his mouth to say something—anything, goodbye, or I’ll see you around, or, in his wildest fantasies, I love you, please don’t go.
An announcement over the PA system stopped him in his tracks. Like all announcements in crowded places, it was barely comprehensible, but the sign for Sam’s check-in changed in response.
“Gotta go,” Sam said, smiling again. “Wish me luck?”
“Good luck,” Ben said. It was the least he could do. “Go be amazing.”
Sam’s face broke into a grin. “I’m always amazing.”
He swooped in, kissed Ben on the cheek, and then headed for the check-in queue.
Ben’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked around to see if anyone had noticed that, if anyone was going to say anything.
They didn’t, but his reaction told him what he already knew. He couldn’t have Sam. He couldn’t handle being out. He could barely handle admitting to himself that he even had a closet to be in.
This was for the best. If he loved Sam—and he did, and he knew he did as he watched him walk away—then letting him go was best for both of them.
Ben waited until Sam was well and truly entrenched in the line, and then ducked out of departures to head back to his car.
He let tears come once he got there, sniffing as he shoved the keys into the ignition with a lot more force than necessary.
This was better. This was better.
As long as he kept telling himself that, he’d be fine.
Chapter One
The moment Sam got out of the elevator on the floor Ben’s office was meant to be on, he started to feel like he was making a terrible mistake. This was a long, long way from the noisy, darkened newspaper offices he’d been used to back when he and Ben had been inseparable.
This place was nice. It had a huge window letting light in, and people seemed to have permanent desks, and everything was bright and colorful and no one was shouting. This was a world he didn’t belong in anymore.
He’d come all this way now, though. There was no point in stopping at the final hurdle.
“You look lost,” a young, pretty woman said to him. Sam felt lost, so that wasn’t really a surprise.
“I’m looking for Ben Osborne’s office,” he said. It was too late to turn back now.
“Third door along,” she nodded to a row of evenly-spaced doors on the opposite side of the building, each one with a neat brass plaque in the middle. “Good luck.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, not sure why he was being wished luck by a total stranger. Kids these days were weird.
He hated that he was thinking of an adult with a job as a kid, but he had a solid fifteen years on her, by the looks of it. Maybe a little more. Their age gap was probably old enough to vote.
A lot of the people milling around were about the same age. Thirty-seven hadn’t felt all that old until right this moment.
Steeling himself, Sam crossed the open-plan space to the row of doors, finding Ben’s name engraved on the third plaque along, as expected. He took a deep breath as he reached out to turn the handle, closing his eyes to beg the universe that Ben would be happy to see him.
Sam wasn’t sure he could survive being rejected right now. Especially not by Ben.
He opened the door without knocking and slipped inside, catching a glimpse of a figure bent over the desk, still too nervous to look directly at him.
The office was exactly as he expected it would be. Darkened, lined with shelves full of books and archived copies of the magazine, with a well-worn couch off to the side and no chair in front of the desk so people couldn’t make themselves comfortable.
Everything about it screamed Ben.
The only thing he couldn’t quite figure out was the whiteboard with 9 days printed on it in Ben’s handwriting, underlined three times and circled. It must have meant something to Ben, though.
“You gonna tell me what you want, or are you just gonna stand there?” Ben asked without looking up.
Sam finally looked over at him. He’d grown his hair out, so long that it was almost brushing his shoulders. His shirt was rumpled, and his posture was terrible, and he looked as though he hadn’t shaved this morning.
He was more like himself than he’d ever been. He looked like Sam had always imagined him at this age.
“I missed you, too,” Sam said, managing to stop his voice from faltering as he spoke.
Ben looked up, and then blinked at him. “Holy shit,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. “Holy shit,” he repeated.
Before Sam could respond, he was being wrapped up in a bear hug, strong arms squeezing him tight. So tight it was difficult to breathe.
Ben’s frame had filled out over the time Sam had been away, a big change from the skinny boy he’d once known. Ben looked settled into his body now. Comfortable.
Beautiful, honestly. He was so attractive that Sam wasn’t entirely sure how to react.
He smelled of citrus and cedar, his hair brushing against Sam’s nose as he backed off.
“You look great,” Ben said.
Sam’s stomach sank. That was a lie, and he knew it. The scar on his face suddenly felt bigger and more obvious than ever.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. There was no point in getting into a fight. Ben was just being polite.
He’d never been polite before in his life, as far as Sam knew, but people changed. Ben had obviously changed.
Besides, they were strangers now. That had been so easy to forget.
This suddenly all seemed like a terrible idea. On his way here—from the moment he’d bought his plane ticket—he’d told himself that he just needed to see Ben. That the most important thing he could do with his life, right now, was to go home and see Ben again.
Ben hadn’t had the last couple of months he’d just had, though. Ben was living his life, without ever seeing it flash before his eyes.
He had no reason to be excited to see Sam. Sam was just a ghost from the past to him.
This was all a huge mistake, and now he wasn’t sure how to get away quickly enough to save himself. He hadn’t even thought of anything to say.
The sound of the door opening behind him seemed like a gift from the universe. A distraction was exactly what he needed right now. Some way of escaping without making himself look like even more of an idiot.
He’d fooled himself into thinking that he’d have the guts to get on his knees and beg Ben to give him a chance. He’d fooled himself into thinking that Ben wouldn’t have his own life, wouldn’t have gone his own, separate way and thrived.
It was so obvious that he’d been fine without Sam. Much more fine than Sam had ever been without him.
“Eliot,” Ben said, his eyes lighting up so brightly it made Sam’s heart ache. That was a look that had been reserved for him, once upon a time. “I’d like you to meet an old friend. This is Sam Ellis.”
Sam turned to see a young man who, for a moment, he might have mistaken for the Ben he’d known ten years ago. Well, no—he was taller than Ben had ever been, and his eyes were a bright, clear blue instead of the stormy grey of Ben’s, but they were just as sharp.
It was more of an impression than a physical resemblance. He looked smart, and eager to succeed, and exactly like Ben had been at his age.
Maybe Sam was the one seeing ghosts.
“I know that name.” Eliot frowned, offering his hand. Sam took it automatically, but flinched internally as Eliot’s gentle fingers made contact with the scar tissue there. He couldn’t wear gloves in the spring in LA.
“He’s a photographer,” Ben said, as if that would explain it. Obviously, it meant that Ben had never mentioned him to Eliot.
Why would he have, though? Eliot was smart, and gorgeous, and clearly worshipped the ground Ben walked on, judging by the look on his face. He knew that look. He’d worn it himself.
He knew the look on Ben’s face, too. Ben loved this man.
Sam’s stomach turned. He’d walked into the middle of the worst-case scenario.
Ben had come out, come to terms with himself, and found someone else before Sam could get back to him.
That was entirely Sam’s own, stupid fault, and he deserved this.
He should have stayed. He’d thought that a thousand times over the years, but it seemed even more obvious now. If he hadn’t left, his heart wouldn’t be breaking all over again right now.
“That must be it,” Eliot said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I can come back later,” he added, taking a step toward the door.
“No, uh. I was just dropping by to say hi,” Sam said quickly, seeing his exit. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t be in the middle of this.
It was selfish, and stupid, but he couldn’t help being either of those things. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Ben to be happy. He did. The thing he’d wanted most for the last fifteen years, more or less since the day they’d met, was for Ben to be happy.
He’d just wanted to be the one making him happy, and it was hard to realize Ben had found someone else to fill that role. Especially when Sam felt like he needed Ben most.
It had been stupid to think he could rely on a man he’d abandoned when Ben had needed him most. He deserved to feel like this right now, but that didn’t mean he could stand there and let himself be tortured any longer.
“You don’t have to go,” Ben said. “You just got here.”
Sam swallowed. He hated to disappoint Ben, and Ben did sound disappointed.
“I’ll give you my card,” he said, digging one out of his pocket. “We should definitely catch up, if you want. But I really do have to go.”
“Oh.” Ben took the card, turning it over in his hand. “Well, if you have to go…”
“Sorry.” Sam smiled wryly, more confident now that escape was within reach. “I wasn’t even sure you’d be around. But I’m back indefinitely, so…”
“We’ve got time,” Ben said, nodding slowly. “Good. We’ve got catching up to do.”
“Absolutely,” Sam agreed, stepping toward the door. “I’ll see you around.”
“You will,” Ben promised. Sam could feel himself being watched as he left, and maybe he shouldn’t have been running away, but he didn’t feel as though he had any choice.
The moment the elevator doors closed on him, he breathed a sigh of relief. He could go away now and lick his wounds.
Maybe he’d have a little more peace once he’d had time to sit down with Ben and hear about how happy he was and how good his life had gotten in Sam’s absence.
Maybe it would be enough to know that Ben was okay.
Chapter Two
“That was the one who got away, huh?” Eliot asked the moment Sam’s footsteps were out of earshot.
Ben sat back down at his desk, keeping his expression as neutral as he could
That was a harder task than it woul
d have been ten minutes ago, before he knew Sam was back in town. “If I answer this question, will you drop it?”
“Almost certainly not. Besides, you just answered it anyway,” Eliot pointed out.
Ben sighed. On the one hand, he liked having someone smart and capable to work with. On the other hand, sometimes Eliot was a little too sharp for his own good.
Or, rather, for Ben’s own good. Eliot knew him well enough to see right through him these days.
“Well, it was,” Ben said. There was no point in lying, and while he knew Eliot would actually drop it if he was asked, Ben needed to process what had just happened.
Sam had blown back into his life like a goddamn tornado and hadn’t even stayed long enough to say a proper hello. Confusing didn’t even begin to cover it.
Had he just been checking to see if Ben was still alive? Did he want to talk to him, or not?
Ben was starting to feel as though he’d said the wrong thing, though he didn’t think he’d said enough for any of it to be wrong.
Maybe Sam had freaked out over Eliot, though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would do that. Eliot made non-threatening into an artform.
“He’s cute,” Eliot said. “I’m very into the whole sun-bleached hair and deep tan thing.”
Ben smiled wryly. “I have met Danny,” he responded. Danny was nothing like Sam, not really, but there were a few superficial similarities between them.
Sam had looked good. Healthy and brighter than he had done the last time Ben had seen him. Or at least, brighter than the memory of him was.
Memory was a strange beast.
“So do you think this means you two might…” Eliot trailed off, apparently afraid to make the suggestion out loud.
“You sound like a kid whose parents are getting a divorce,” Ben said. “You met the guy for ten seconds.”
“But I know he’s important to you. I know he’s important because you never talk about him except when you’re tired or you’ve been drinking.”
Ben opened his mouth to respond to that, but nothing came to mind. He was guilty on both counts, and Sam was important to him. There was no point in arguing over it.