“Sure am.” Tiller reached out his hand to shake. I tried not to notice the familiar scent of our laundry detergent on his sleeve. For some reason, it smelled ten times better on his body than mine.
“Omigod,” the boy wheezed as he took Tiller’s hand. “You have no idea… you…”
An older woman put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to smile at Tiller. “You’ve made a big difference in our house. Thanks to you, Barrett came out to his team last year like it was no big deal.”
I felt more than saw Tiller’s entire body language change. It wasn’t the first time someone had said something similar, but every time it happened was just as special and important to Tiller as the first had been. I felt the familiar lump form in my throat.
“Kick-ass, man,” Tiller said gruffly. “It takes guts to do that. Big guts. Proud of you.”
I reached into my wallet and pulled out a card to hand to Tiller. Tiller shot me a thankful smile before handing my card to Barrett. “This is Mike, my right-hand man, and here’s his card. Shoot him an email and we’ll hook you up with some signed merch when we get home in a few weeks, alright?”
Barrett noticed me for the first time and blushed even more. “Is he… are you two…?” It was clear what he was asking, and it also wasn’t the first time we’d gotten this particular question either.
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m his assistant and personal chef. My job is to make sure he eats more avocado and broccoli and less Snickers bars and cheese dip. Some days are harder than others.”
Tiller elbowed me in the side. “He’s a strict mofo… er, guy,” he said, blinking up at Barrett’s mom and mouthing an apology.
She nudged the kid forward and smiled again. “I’m married to an actual offshore rigger. I promise you don’t know words I haven’t heard after Barrett’s dad comes home from the rigs. Thank you so much. You made our day.”
As Barrett moved away grudgingly, he called out, “Our week! Our year!”
Tiller grinned as he sat back in his seat. “That was cool. And his dad is an actual rigger. What’re the chances?”
In Houston? Fairly high, but I didn’t say it.
He continued. “Can you imagine a football player at your high school growing up having the balls to wear eye makeup and be out?”
“You were out in high school,” I reminded him before taking a sip of my drink. Oh god, that was amazing. I took more of a gulp the second time around.
“I was. Mostly because my dad told me you couldn’t be out and play professional ball. I realized early on that if I didn’t come out while I was a nobody, I’d for damned sure never be able to come out when I was somebody. So I ripped off the Band-Aid. It didn’t hurt that I was dating the hottest guy in school at the time. The bragging rights were worth it.”
I rolled my eyes and continued making love to my cocktail. “Must be nice to be you.”
His eyebrows crinkled. “I thought you were out in high school, too?”
I sighed and put down my glass. “Not by choice. And I didn’t date anyone because I had four older brothers who all played varsity ball and were four times the size of normal high school kids, remember? If anyone had gotten the urge to do anything other than run the other way when they saw me, my brothers would have pounded their gay asses into the ground.”
His confusion turned to anger. “Your brothers are homophobes?”
I realized my mistake and tried to correct it. “Wait. No. Not at all. Well… actually, yes, they were. Before I came out. But when I came out, they were suddenly the most uninformed group of dude-bros to ever try to be supportive. They were protective as hell. No one was good enough for their baby Mikey, and they didn’t make a secret of the fact that anyone who messed with me messed with all the Vining boys. You wanted to get the shit beat out of you by two defensive backs, a running back, and the best varsity wrestler in the state? Then you could think about looking at Mikey V. And by the way, the V very quickly came to stand for something besides ‘Vining’ if you catch my drift.”
Tiller barked out a laugh that made everyone’s head turn. I scooted down in my seat and waved my hand in the air for another drink.
After the flight attendant nodded and smiled at me, I felt a warm breath against my ear. “When did you finally get that sorted out, Mikey?”
I shivered and quickly cleared my throat before lying my ass off. “First week freshman year in college. Gang bang in the dorm next to mine.”