Spill the Milk Pt. 01

I smirked at him, wondering if he realized that he had just proven my point. "I know."

**

My big coming out was pretty anti-climactic. Nobody treated me any differently. We all just stopped pretending that I had any interest in women. No one tried to talk to me about it, with the exception of the few short conversations I'd had with Mitch. The only significant change was that Mitch was very careful about the insults that he mouthed off, for about three months. Then he went right back to using the same bigoted slurs that he always had.

My behavior patterns didn't change either. A year later, I was still using anonymous tricks in pickup joints to satisfy my baser carnal urges. I had no problems scoring on the nights that I went out on the prowl. I still looked good, but my thirtieth birthday was fast approaching, and I knew that I couldn't keep it up forever. At the rate I was going, I was going to end up the queer version of the crazy, cat lady. Unfortunately, I was allergic to cats.

"Hey, me and Gloria have the girls this weekend, and there's a carnival in town. Wanna go with?"

I really didn't. I hadn't been to a carnival in three years. My last trip to one had been somewhat of a disaster. Seth. I never had gotten him out of my system. I still had dreams about him on occasion. I knew that there had to be hundreds of traveling carnivals around the country, and even if it was the same one, chances of him still working there were nil. But the idea of running into him gave me mixed emotions of fear, desire, guilt, and longing.

As much as I loved spending time with Hannah and Crista, I couldn't stand Mitch's girlfriend, Gloria. She was loud, obnoxious, and a worthless drunk. I couldn't understand what he saw in her, but they'd been together for four months, living together for three of them, and he hadn't, to the best of my knowledge, cheated on her once.

Ultimately, the deciding factor was safety. I simply did not trust Gloria with the kids, and because of that, I didn't have a whole lot of faith in Mitch's judgement where Gloria was concerned either.

"Yeah," I replied. "Sounds like fun."

The girls and I lucked out. This carnival was about half the size of the other one, it was set up in the parking lot of the mall, and they didn't serve alcohol. That fact made Gloria a little grumpy, but the girls and I split off from Mitch and Gloria so we didn't have to deal with her. I call them girls, but they were very nearly little women. At ten and eight, they were so grown up that it was scary. It forced me to recall what Mitch and I had been like at their ages, and that thought terrified me.

I took them on all the rides, and we played all the midway games. We ate a bunch of junk food and generally had a great time. When I got home, I was exhausted. I went to bed, alone, and got a little melancholy. I had always known, from the moment that I understood how babies were made, that I would never have that. The knowledge didn't make me want it any less.

**

"I'm sorry it took me so long," I said, sliding into the booth across from Jamie. "Could you have possibly picked a place further away?"

"I'm sorry." She frowned. "I ordered for you, if it makes it any better."

"Thanks." I grinned. "What am I having?"

"Club sandwich."

"Good choice," I teased. "I can easily eat that while driving."

"I'm sorry. Really. I didn't want to accidentally run into Mitch."

"Are we hiding from your ex-husband for a reason?"

"No... Yes..." She scrunched up her face, and I smirked at her. She was too cute. She was a good person, and she was a knockout. She had long, wavy, honey-blonde hair that both her girls had inherited, and hazel green eyes. She'd even managed to keep her hourglass figure through two children. She was a good mother, and Mitch was an idiot. "I know you're short on time, so I'm just going to cut to the chase. Craig asked me to marry him. I said yes."

"Congrats." I smiled. "I'm happy for both of you."

She grimaced. "I want you to tell Mitch."

I barked out a strangled laugh. "I never realized that you hated me that much, Jamie."

She grimaced again. "He has no right to be pissed about it."

"And you think that's going to stop him? He hasn't spoken to Craig once since he asked you out. He's going to flip his shit when he finds out about this."

She leaned forward over the table. "Look, I realize that Craig broke some sort of bro code or something, but he's a good guy. He's loyal and caring, and he loves the girls. I've moved on. Mitch has got that trashy slut. Am I supposed to wither away and never be happy again?"

"You're preaching to the choir here," I told her. "I'm happy for you and Craig both. Really. But I don't have to tell you that Mitch is not going to be."

"That's why I want you to tell him. It'll go over best if it's coming from you. You can make him understand. And... you'll be there for him."

Jamie leaned back in the booth while our plates were set down on the table.

"Can I get a to-go box? I'm going to be la..." I lost my train of thought when my gaze locked with the same bright blue eyes that had haunted my dreams and masturbatory fantasies for three years.

"Sure," he replied to me before he turned to Jamie. "Just the one box?"

She nodded. "I'm staying. He has to get back to work."

"Okay. I'll be right back with that box." He smiled at Jamie, and my heart lurched in my chest. He turned his polite smile toward me, briefly, before he walked away from the table. There had been no recognition in his eyes. He didn't remember me.

I pushed my plate into the center of the table. "You know what? I'm not really hungry," I said as I slid out of the booth. "Take that home to Craig. I gotta go. I'm going to be late." I pulled a twenty out of my pocket and tossed it on the table. "I'll find a way to tell Mitch." Getting my ass kicked suddenly seemed like a fantastic idea.

As I walked away from the table, I could hear her calling out my name.

**

After work, I picked up Mitch and took him to my house. I led him out into the back yard, grateful that we had never put in that pool, and told him the news. Then I made absolutely no effort to dodge the fist that came flying at my face. I'd expected it, and I'd encouraged it. Jamie and I had both known what was going to happen. Mitch was a 'kill the messenger' type of guy. I was, however, surprised by the subsequent punch in the gut.

As soon as my diaphragm rebounded, and I was able to breathe again, I took him back inside and proceeded to get him slobbery drunk and let him cry on me until he passed out. I put him to bed in the spare room with a trash can beside the bed within arm's reach. Then I got in my truck and drove out to where there once was a field, where there once stood a traveling carnival. It was a sporting goods store now, but I knew that already. I had been on the crew that put it up. I sat on the tailgate of my truck, in that empty parking lot, for hours, just thinking.

Right about one o'clock, I was lying in the bed of my truck, legs hanging over the tailgate, just staring at the stars, when a loud vehicle pulled into the lot and parked beside me. I sat up and looked over at the old, beat-up truck. My heart started beating a rapid staccato, thinking that I recognized it, but it was too dark to be positive until Seth climbed out of the cab and walked over to me.

"Hey." My voice sounded amazingly calm considering the fact that I felt like jumping up and down and squealing in excitement like a little girl. He did remember me!

"Hey you too." He smirked.

"What happened to the camper?"

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Sold it." When he looked back at me, he asked, "What happened to your face?"

"Walked into a door," I joked.

He frowned. "Are you in an abusive relationship?"

The concern was evident on his face, but I was too giddy to stop the chuckle that escaped me. "No. I let my best friend take a swing at me."

"Why?"

"Because he needed it," I explained with a silly smile on my face. "He just found out that the love of his life is about to marry someone else."

"So he hit you?" His voice went up in astonishment. "Why? Are you one of the intended?"

I laughed. "No. He's straight. His ex-wife was the woman I was with today. He hit me because I let him. He needed an outlet, and taking it out on me was better than him yelling at her or beating the shit out of her fiancé. They have kids... It's complicated."

He shook his head. "Sounds like he needs some anger management classes."

"Maybe." I shrugged. "He has the 'good ol' boy' mentality. It's the way he was raised. Boys fight. It was even rewarded in his house. He was trained to fight like a man, fuck everything in a skirt, put the wives, mothers, and daughters on a pedestal, and always, always be the provider."

"Jesus," he mumbled.

"He cried. But he had to get blind drunk before he could let himself."

"Sounds like he needs more than anger management classes."

I frowned, suddenly realizing that I was giving him a horrid impression of my best friend. "When we were kids, the summer between fourth and fifth grade, we were friends, but we didn't hang out every minute of every day or anything. I was a scrawny kid. I was outside, alone, and I got jumped by a bunch of older guys. When he found out, he went after them with the single-minded determination of a man on a mission. He wasn't any bigger than me. He's always been smaller, but he's fierce. As soon as he was satisfied with the amount of damage he'd done to them, he started showing up at my house every day, teaching me to fight. He, basically, beat the crap out of me every day until I was able to defend myself. We've been inseparable ever since.

"So, yeah, he's got his issues, but I have no doubts that he'd walk through hell and high water for me. And I'd do the same for him. I knew when I told him about Jamie and Craig that he'd hit me. And I know that he'll suffer for it tomorrow. And I'll make sure to make him feel as guilty as humanly possible. It's the way we are. But, when push comes to shove, he'll always have my back."

He was silent for a minute while he digested that. "Oh!" he exclaimed and bent over the side rail of his truck, giving me a tantalizing view of his gorgeous backside in snug-fitting jeans. I could hear him moving stuff, and the distinct sound of an ice chest sloshing around, and then he turned around with a can of diet soda in his hand. He handed it to me.

"Thanks?" I said, confused.

He huffed. "It's for your face. It's cold."

I smiled at him. "Thanks." I brushed as much water off the can as I could before I held it up to my bruised face. "So what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he admitted.

I grinned. "I meant, in town."

"I never left." The truck dipped and rocked as he sat down next to me on the tailgate. "My truck broke down, and I couldn't afford the parts. I could have left it, and stayed with the troupe, but it's the only thing I have left from home. I didn't want to lose it."

"Where's home?" I asked.

"Here now. Used to be Kentucky. My parents threw me out when they found out about me. But I was nineteen at the time, so I guess it was time to go anyway."

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty-four. You?"

"Twenty-nine." I pulled the can away from my face and looked at it. "Do you drink this shit?"

He scoffed. "Do I look like I need anything diet?"

I looked over at him and scanned his thin body. "No. You're perfect the way you are."

"Thank you," he breathed. "It was my bo..." His voice stalled out on the word.

"Boyfriend's?" I finished for him.

"Ex," he corrected.

What could I say? Considering the way we'd met, I couldn't have reasonably expected him to have been celibate for the past three years. I sure as hell hadn't been.

"Is that why you acted like you didn't know me?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I don't know your situation. I didn't even know your name until today... Adam."

I nodded, shifted the can of soda to my left hand, and held out my right. "Adam McLennan."

He rotated his upper body to face me and took my hand. "Seth McKinney. Good to meet you."

"Ah. Both micks." I smirked.

"Yup." He nodded and smiled.

I tightened my grip on his hand, pulled him toward me, and kissed him softly. A gentle mewl whispered over his lips as he let go of my hand. Wrapping his arms around my neck, he deepened the kiss. As our tongues met, and I got my first taste of his sweet mouth, a loud moan rumbled through my chest.

Kissing wasn't something I did. Not that I never had. Although we didn't kiss in private, I had kissed Trina frequently in public. But I had never kissed a guy. The types of liaisons that I favored didn't encourage intimacy. Kissing Trina had never felt like this. By the time he'd broken off the kiss, I was heaving for breath, and my cock was so hard that it was throbbing painfully.

"Don't do that anymore," I panted.

"What?"

"Stop pretending that you don't know me," I clarified. "It makes me insane."

"Oh." He snickered. "I thought you meant kiss you."

"No. You can kiss me a lot. Anytime you want. Like now would be good."

He gave me a sly grin and moved in to do just that. His lips were soft, even though his kiss was not. It had never occurred to me that I might enjoy kissing so much. I couldn't get enough of his luscious mouth. Setting the soda can down in the bed of the truck, I threaded one hand into his hair, slipped my other hand around his hips, and pulled his body across the few, scant inches that separated us. I needed as much contact as I could get, letting my hands wander over his svelte body, just exploring, caressing, while we made out like teenagers.

Without breaking the kiss, I gently laid him back in the bed of my truck and leaned over him to get better access to his body. This was all new to me. I'd never been this way with anyone else. It was an odd mix of soft and sweet but intensely passionate, and I was addicted. I'd never known that I craved it so much. He allowed me to touch him everywhere, over the clothes, but the moment that I tried to unfasten his jeans, he grabbed my wrist to stop me. I groaned out my frustration.

"I need to be inside you, Seth." My voice was low and thick with lust. I was dying to know if he felt as good as I'd remembered.

"Not here," he whispered.

"Where do you live?"

He shook his head. "We can't go there. I still live with my ex. I sleep on the couch."

"Fuck." I groaned and rolled off him to lie beside him. My body was humming with need.

He tucked his knees up and turned onto his side, facing me. He didn't say anything, but I knew what he was thinking.

"We can't," I answered his unspoken question. He just looked at me with those gorgeous eyes. "It's not like that," I tried to explain. "It's just that... I've never invited anyone to my house before." He still didn't speak. "Mitch is there," I added. Then, before he could draw the wrong conclusion, I amended my statement. "Mitch... My best friend. Not my boyfriend. I'm single."

We just stared at each other, not touching. He really was the most beautiful man that I had ever seen. Maybe he wasn't all ripped and stacked like an underwear model. And maybe he wasn't going to be gracing the covers of any trendy magazines. But to me, he was perfect. His hair had come loose from its tie, or I had pulled it loose, I didn't know which, and it was draped over the arm that his head was pillowed on. It was longer than it had been the last time I'd seen him. It was still all one length, but now it came down past his shoulders. My fingers itched to touch it.

Without saying a word, he was letting me know that he wanted more than a quick fuck in a lonely parking lot. He was right. I couldn't count the number of times that I had fucked in parking lots, dark alleys, back rooms, or bathrooms, but I didn't want to treat him like that... again. I wanted to be completely naked with him again. I wanted to touch him and taste him everywhere. I wanted to spend hours worshiping his body. I wanted all those things with him that I had never allowed myself to hope for.

But I just couldn't.

We stared at each other for a long time before he let out a soft sigh and pushed himself upright. "I guess I should go," he said as he scooched off the end of the tailgate.

He was leaving, and I knew that if I let him walk away from me, I was never going to see him again. He hadn't even offered me his phone number. I couldn't fault him for it. He didn't want to get involved with someone who wasn't willing to be seen with him. This was it. This was the second chance that I had been pining for, dreaming of, for the past three years, knowing full well that it was never going to happen. People simply didn't get lucky enough to get a chance to make things right with the one that got away. But I had. Was I just going to let him walk away and never know what would have been, could have been, if I had only had the balls to stick my neck out one time?

The driver's door of his truck creaked and popped when he opened it. I sat up. "Seth?"

"Yeah?" He turned to look back at me.

"I've got some WD-40 at my house for that door hinge... If you like."

**