The Rebound by Max Hudson

Author:Max Hudson [Hudson, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen: Taylor

Taylor stepped from the Brooklyn train and into the drizzly weather, watching as the air lifted and yanked at his umbrella. It was just after five in the afternoon, which meant that Ray was certainly home: lost in a sea of architectural drawings, his hair and glasses both askew. His heart surged with love for him—a sour version, one that couldn’t forget the ill words they’d spoken to one another.

His stomach lurched with apprehension as he approached. As he mounted the steps to the brownstone, his mind flashed with memories of their first few years there. They’d moved into the place, in a flurry of panic and emotion and love, nearly six years before—after they’d been dating off and on for three years. “The ‘off’ part,” Taylor had said once, “Just meant that neither of us could keep our hands off of other people. We were both horn dogs, trying out the gay thing for the first time.”

“That was just you, Taylor,” Ray had said in response. “Discovering dicks for the first time. Besides that ‘sinful’ moment with that guy on your basketball team. God, he tells that story over and over again!”

Taylor didn’t. He really didn’t talk about Milo often. But he’d mentioned it, with wide eyes and stuttering words, in such a way that it had stuck with Ray. “You loved him,” Ray had said more than once, his thick eyebrows high. “I know love when I see it.”

“How could I love someone I haven’t seen in almost two decades?” Taylor always said in return. “It was nothing. A little boyhood crush—”

“But it stuck with you. Because of what happened after,” Ray had affirmed, tilting his head.

“Sure. Maybe.” Always, when these conversations surged forth, he reached up and brought his finger along the small, crooked scar on his nose. Milo’s fist had cracked into him, putting a nose guard around his face for the first few weeks of the regular season. But he hadn’t cared. For whatever reason, the only ache he felt, during those weeks, had been in his heart.

He’d known, deep within him, that it had all been his fault.

“Didn’t you ever look him up?” Ray had asked once, flipping his brown hair back and giving Taylor a near-ominous, almost psycho-analytical expression. “This Milo guy. After he dropped out of school—”

“Was kicked out,” Taylor had corrected, pushing his shoulders forward.

“I think you give yourself too much credit for changing that kid’s life,” Ray had told him. “He could have very well stayed in school if he’d wanted to. You said he came from the other side of the tracks, the ‘city’ of Indianapolis. As if that could really be perceived as a city.”

“I saw him once,” Taylor had murmured, digging his head into the pillow. It had smelled of Ray’s cum, of the sex they shared. “Outside of Bloomington, at a convenience store. He was hovering outside of this little crooked car, puffing on a cigarette. Inside, I saw a car seat. Like maybe—he

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