him. Damn it!
He'd told Stu to treat them just like friends. Trouble was, Stu thought the definition of friendship included snooping into
Christopher's sex life. Maybe he should have tried saying, "This is a closet," and slamming Stu's face into the
door six or eight times, just to get his attention.
The phone rang again about an hour later, making Christopher's heart jump, then stop.
"Luca, I'm sorry." Get it out before, instead of, hello.
"That was not-asshole friend?"
"I thought so. I was wrong." Christopher waited--what would Luca say?
"We don't see each other tomorrow night."
"You're getting even with me for what he did." He was only too aware that Luca would be leaving for Belgium soon. None of
what happened tonight boded well for what would happen if Luca still wanted him to come to Europe. Christopher resigned himself to seeing very little of
any foreign country where paparazzi recognized cyclists.
A deep sigh blew into his ear. "No, tomorrow night is dinner for team. I need to be there."
Christopher heard what Luca didn't say. A dinner for the team, the wives, and the girlfriends. "Okay, your dirty secret will find
something else to do tomorrow."
"I tell you at beginning what I have to do, and why. I take big chance with you! You say you understand, and then you say this!" Luca
exploded.
"It's still true, Luca," Christopher barked back. "It sounds ugly, it is ugly, but it's still true. And
I'm sorry for it and I'm sorry you feel it's necessary, but it sucks to be the man you have to hide." He softened
his voice, aware he was jeopardizing making his point. "I'm not telling you to do it differently. I'm just telling you what
it feels like from this side."
"I make you feel bad; I'm supposed to stop that, right? Be good boyfriend? Do what I can't do?"
"You left without me tonight, and I wasn't the one who caused the problem." Apologize for that , and I can deal with the rest. Somehow .
" Your friend did."
"I know. And I'm sorry."
"So am I. But you also know three people can keep secret if two are dead."
"I can keep your secret, Luca." Letting go of the handful of hair he'd grabbed out of sheer frustration, Christopher knew he
could only promise fully on his own behalf, and Stu had already figured out too much. "I'll talk to Stu. He thinks it's
entertaining that I'm gay, that's half the problem. I'll make sure he understands that he screwed up and not to say anything
else."
"Thank you." A pause, and then " Ciao, Christopher."
Somehow, that sounded permanent.
Chapter 9
Trying not to think about Luca having dinner with twenty-five men who weren't him, Christopher typed another few words comparing the padding
inside riding gloves. His phone had rung, but one number he didn't recognize and the other was Stu. He hit the ignore key and returned to writing
his article, as if someone would really base a purchase on the stats he'd collected. CycloWorld was at least pleased with his efforts.
They'd like the saddle story even better; he'd include quotes.
Two hours later, he shut the laptop and fell onto the futon. He dragged the comforter over his shoulders, wondering if he'd ever share the lumpy
mattress with Luca again.
The morning he awoke to was clear, nippy, and not a day he needed to work. Did he dare call Luca? He paused, his finger poised over the icon he'd
ganked off the internet, picturing a triumphant Luca at the finish line in Nice a year earlier. Christopher had seen him look nearly that exultant in bed
only a few days ago, and now, it was as if they'd never been together. He took his finger away after a look at the clock. If Luca would talk to
him at all, it wouldn't be mid-morning when he'd have ten to twenty-five eavesdroppers around.
Pulling on double leggings and a windproof jacket, Christopher would do the one thing that would let him feel connected to Luca--he'd
ride. With a hat under his helmet and toe warmers over his shoes, he'd take to the roads north of town. Maybe
He'd told Stu to treat them just like friends. Trouble was, Stu thought the definition of friendship included snooping into
Christopher's sex life. Maybe he should have tried saying, "This is a closet," and slamming Stu's face into the
door six or eight times, just to get his attention.
The phone rang again about an hour later, making Christopher's heart jump, then stop.
"Luca, I'm sorry." Get it out before, instead of, hello.
"That was not-asshole friend?"
"I thought so. I was wrong." Christopher waited--what would Luca say?
"We don't see each other tomorrow night."
"You're getting even with me for what he did." He was only too aware that Luca would be leaving for Belgium soon. None of
what happened tonight boded well for what would happen if Luca still wanted him to come to Europe. Christopher resigned himself to seeing very little of
any foreign country where paparazzi recognized cyclists.
A deep sigh blew into his ear. "No, tomorrow night is dinner for team. I need to be there."
Christopher heard what Luca didn't say. A dinner for the team, the wives, and the girlfriends. "Okay, your dirty secret will find
something else to do tomorrow."
"I tell you at beginning what I have to do, and why. I take big chance with you! You say you understand, and then you say this!" Luca
exploded.
"It's still true, Luca," Christopher barked back. "It sounds ugly, it is ugly, but it's still true. And
I'm sorry for it and I'm sorry you feel it's necessary, but it sucks to be the man you have to hide." He softened
his voice, aware he was jeopardizing making his point. "I'm not telling you to do it differently. I'm just telling you what
it feels like from this side."
"I make you feel bad; I'm supposed to stop that, right? Be good boyfriend? Do what I can't do?"
"You left without me tonight, and I wasn't the one who caused the problem." Apologize for that , and I can deal with the rest. Somehow .
" Your friend did."
"I know. And I'm sorry."
"So am I. But you also know three people can keep secret if two are dead."
"I can keep your secret, Luca." Letting go of the handful of hair he'd grabbed out of sheer frustration, Christopher knew he
could only promise fully on his own behalf, and Stu had already figured out too much. "I'll talk to Stu. He thinks it's
entertaining that I'm gay, that's half the problem. I'll make sure he understands that he screwed up and not to say anything
else."
"Thank you." A pause, and then " Ciao, Christopher."
Somehow, that sounded permanent.
Chapter 9
Trying not to think about Luca having dinner with twenty-five men who weren't him, Christopher typed another few words comparing the padding
inside riding gloves. His phone had rung, but one number he didn't recognize and the other was Stu. He hit the ignore key and returned to writing
his article, as if someone would really base a purchase on the stats he'd collected. CycloWorld was at least pleased with his efforts.
They'd like the saddle story even better; he'd include quotes.
Two hours later, he shut the laptop and fell onto the futon. He dragged the comforter over his shoulders, wondering if he'd ever share the lumpy
mattress with Luca again.
The morning he awoke to was clear, nippy, and not a day he needed to work. Did he dare call Luca? He paused, his finger poised over the icon he'd
ganked off the internet, picturing a triumphant Luca at the finish line in Nice a year earlier. Christopher had seen him look nearly that exultant in bed
only a few days ago, and now, it was as if they'd never been together. He took his finger away after a look at the clock. If Luca would talk to
him at all, it wouldn't be mid-morning when he'd have ten to twenty-five eavesdroppers around.
Pulling on double leggings and a windproof jacket, Christopher would do the one thing that would let him feel connected to Luca--he'd
ride. With a hat under his helmet and toe warmers over his shoes, he'd take to the roads north of town. Maybe
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