Long Pass Chronicles 01 - Outing the Quarterback (29 page)

Two months later

W
ILL
PUSHED
into the studio he shared with Donna and Noah. He smiled. He shared everything with Noah. And soon they’d make the leap to light speed. Things had lined up so they could start classes next semester. Lots to do to get ready, but he got to celebrate today since it was kind of special.

“Hey, Will.” Donna sat on the edge of the small platform they used for setting up still-life scenes and posing life models—whenever they could con a friend into posing.

Will cocked his head. Donna sat next to Evangeline, who looked full-on gorgeous in a red jersey top and black jeans. She was going to pose for him today. He needed to deliver the promised portrait to the Joneses. But there was something about the way the two women leaned toward each other and smiled slightly sappy smiles that suggested Donna might be doing more than just keeping Will’s model company out of politeness. Now that would be one great combo.

The door opened behind him. He turned and grinned at Jamal. He missed seeing his best friend on the field, but they still found reasons to share meals and hang out pretty often. “Hey, buddy.”

“Sorry I’m late. I had practice and the traffic is killer.”

“I just got here. No worries.” He grabbed a large canvas he’d primed for this project and set it on the easel. “Ev, would you sit on the bench? Kind of lean down and read a book. Donna, have we got a book we can use?” She walked over to a bookcase they kept for setting up scenes and pulled out a book. She crossed back and handed it to Ev, who laughed.

Will looked up. “What?”

“Nothing. Kind of an inside joke.”

“Okay, ladies. Jamal, you sit beside Ev and read a sports magazine. I put one up there for you.”

The big guy stepped up on the platform and sat. Will went over to adjust their positions and got a look at the book Ev was holding.
Rubyfruit Jungle
. He laughed at the famous lesbian book. “Okay, is there something you two want to tell us?”

Ev grinned. “Oh no, we’re very discreet.”

The artist and the mathematician. What a pair. He moved them a little, then started to block in the figures with charcoal.

Suddenly the door burst open. Big John Jones walked in holding his wife’s hand, and Mal and Tyrese followed. They both lugged big shopping bags. Ty held the door and stepped back as Noah walked in carrying a huge cake with lit candles. Penny, the bartender from work, and a couple of the waiters came in after him. Even their boss, Martha, the owner of the restaurant, joined the group. Will’s heart leaped into his throat.

Noah started singing in his pretty tenor and everyone joined in. “Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear Will. Happy Birthday to you! And many more.” He laughed as he set the cake on the table where they usually stashed canvases and tubes for special paint mixes. “Did you think we forgot?”

Will shook his head to get the tears out of his eyes. “I didn’t think anyone would know but you.”

Donna clapped her hands. “It was so hard not saying anything.”

Noah pointed at the cake. “Get over here and blow out these twenty-one candles before we have wax icing.”

He blew, and Donna and Mrs. Jones took over serving cake, fruit, and iced tea all around.

Noah walked up beside him and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I never do anything I don’t want to do. You know that.”

He did. Every day, he learned how to be his own person and live his own life in no small part by watching Noah. How the crap had he ever been so lucky?

Donna handed him a plate and paper cup, and he sat on the edge of the platform. Noah snuggled up beside him. Everyone found a spot and chatting commenced.

“Open wide.” Noah fed him a piece of cake.

Will picked up a nibble from his plate and slipped it between Noah’s pouty lips. Their eyes met. Hard not to think about doing this for real at their own wedding reception someday.

Ty pointed his fork at them. “So you guys are going to LA soon, right?”

Noah nodded. “Yeah, my superprovider here earned enough money that we can already afford to start at UCLA part-time.”

Ty spoke between bites of cake. “How’d you do that?”

Will smiled at Martha, his boss. “I have this great boss lady who’s been paying me very well.”

She shoved a piece of watermelon into her mouth, chewed, then laughed. “When I found out I have this business school grad in my restaurant, I had to take advantage. Will’s worked on improving our accounting system, got a social media program going and hired an intern to manage it, and developed a great ad for the two locations. We’re getting more customers. That’s why I’m excited that the guys are going to LA to work in the restaurant there. Will’s going to start as my assistant manager for the location.”

Will shook his head. “Not grad. I never graduated. Just attended.”

“Well, you’re damned good at it.”

“Thanks.”

Big John gave Will that direct gaze. “Seems your father’s goals didn’t do so bad by you.”

Will nodded. He’d thought the same thing himself once or twice.

Donna dragged her eyes away from Evangeline. “How many classes are you taking?”

Noah looked up. “One each. We’re both going to take this great history of art course. It’s amazing. We actually get to paint in the style of some of the masters. Explore their technique. I can’t wait.”

Will looked at the man he loved. Art filled Noah like water in a cup. “I’d like it if Noah would take more classes. He has this awesome scholarship. He could take a full load each semester and have his doctorate in two years.”

Noah chewed. “Unh-uh, not enough time to work. We gotta eat, baby.”

“Hey, I’ve got this great job.”

Noah chewed and shook his head. “I need to pull my weight. It’s not like when I get my degree I’m suddenly going to be earning all this money. Art teachers don’t make much.”

God, that was so Noah. Pulling his weight since the day he was born.

His phone buzzed. He grabbed it and glanced. Not a number he recognized. LA area code. He leaned over to Noah. “Excuse me a second, love.”

He clicked the phone and walked to the quieter corner of the studio. “Hello.”

“Mr. Ashford?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m calling from the registrar’s office at UCLA.”

“Oh. Okay.” Maybe the class he wanted was closed.

“We received your registration forms, and we also received your check for tuition. We’re confused. The amount of the check is appropriate for a full-time student, but you only appear to have registered for one class. Have we missed your application for admission to the graduate school?”

“Uh, I paid for my class with a personal check.”

“Yes. I see that. But the other payment is a cashier’s check.”

“There must be some mistake. I never sent a cashier’s check. Who does it say it’s from?”

“William Ashford. That’s you, correct?”

“Yes, but—”
Well, hell
. “Uh, ma’am, it’s also my father.”

“I see. So this check is from your father?”

“I have no idea, but maybe so.”

“It appears to be full tuition for two years if you take a full schedule each semester. Will you be applying?”

“Uh, I hadn’t planned to.”

“We’ve received your transcripts from both SCU and the Laguna College of Art that you sent with your part-time forms. All you have to do is fill out the full-time application. Shall I make you an appointment to speak with a counselor from the fine art program regarding a possible curriculum?”

“May I call you back?”

“Of course.”

“At the number in the phone?”

“Yes, please.”

“Thanks. Uh, thanks for calling.”

Noah came up beside him. “What’s going on? I heard a little.”

Will looked up. Everyone in the studio stared at him.

“My father paid tuition to UCLA for two years.”

Ev’s mouth dropped open. “Holy crap. I never would have thought he had it in him.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t know what it means. I’m sure as hell not planning on taking up football at UCLA.” He laughed, but it was no joke.

Jamal stomped his feet. “Hell, no, man. You don’t play against me ever.”

Will grinned. “’Cause I’d lose.”

Noah wrapped an arm around his neck. “You don’t need his money. You’ve shown over the last two months that you can make it on your own and you’ll keep on doing it.”

Will touched Noah’s cheek with his right hand. The scars between his fingers still glowed fresh from the day he got a clue. “Not entirely on my own.”

Bong
. An e-mail. He didn’t get a lot of those. Most of his friends texted.

He opened his e-mail program on the phone and stared. “My father.”

Deep breath. He opened it. The e-mail said,
Like you said, I’m proud of you. Happy Birthday.
The signature was William Ashford, Junior.

He showed the e-mail to Noah, who shrugged. “Quite a birthday present.”

“I don’t think I’d dare take it.”

Jamalcrates spoke up. “Hey man, he knows he can’t control you anymore. I’ll bet he just wants to be in your life.”

He shook his head. “Give that man an inch and he’ll take it all.”

“Will.” Mrs. Jones’s soft voice seemed to speak louder than anyone. “I love bragging about my children. It is one of my favorite things to do.” She smiled and her pretty face lit up. “When they say to people that I helped them become the brilliant, talented, wise human beings they are, I feel proud, even though I know they did it all themselves. Your father wanted to tell the world that he made you a great football player and a great businessman. You took that away from him, and rightfully so. But now, in years to come, he’d like to say he helped make you a great artist and teacher and role model. He knows you did it by yourself, but he’ll still be proud. Take the money. He wanted to give you a gift that would mean something to you.”

Will smiled at her, then looked up at Noah.
God, could it happen?
“We could take almost a full schedule and work at night.”

Noah nodded. “I’m okay either way.” He grinned.

Will stared at the people gathered in the studio. His whole life, he’d lived in two closets. Alone. No one knew him. Now his days brimmed with friends and a man who loved him. His whole heart felt bigger. Shit, he had room.

He looked at his father’s e-mail and clicked reply.
Thank you
. Send.

Noah kissed his forehead. “I guess life just got a little bit easier.”

Will laughed. “You’ll hardly know how to handle it, Tas.”

“Are you kidding?” Noah grinned, and his blue eyes sparkled. “The best thing that ever happened to me was the day some asshole decided to out the quarterback.”

T
ARA
L
AIN
writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her bestselling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, and Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. Readers often call her books “sweet,” even with all that hawt sex, because Tara believes in love and her books deliver on happy-ever-after. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. Her love of creating book titles comes from years of manifesting ad headlines for everything from analytical instruments to semiconductors. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soulmate husband and her soulmate dog (who’s a little jealous of all those cat pictures Tara posts on FB) in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says that on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

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