Intro

Now available on Amazon! :)

Welcome a short preview of Alex’s story. Only the first few chapters are here.

We’ve seen snippets throughout Doctor and I KNOW you’ve been curious. He’s alive in my head and I want him to be alive in yours. Here’s what happened between him and Rebecca, why he got married in the first place, and how he met Dare.

Learn how they overcome his past, Dare’s reservations, and life in general to build a family together.

Good old Dare. Some love him, some hate him. Yes, he got a little jealous and snippity with Doc when he saw them together but wouldn’t you, too? Can’t blame him for not wanting to let that little minx go.

So, if you’re ready for some Alex, Dare, Mateo, Ollie and all our favorite folks, come on in :)

This is stand-alone (mostly) so it doesn’t matter how many of the DD books you’ve read. It’ll make more sense and be more fun if you at least know who these guys are and how they’re connected but whether you’ve read 5 books or 16, you’re good to go.

One

YEAR ONE

*** Miscarriage, infertility warnings.  Infidelity.  This and the next chapter are direct and brutal and full-frontal pain.  Be good to yourselves ***

The chapters are out of order.  Wattpad refuses to let me fix them.  To save yourselves frustration, use the  top right dropdown menu to select the next chapter.  Book one chapters are just numbered and book 2 are labeled as ‘chapter one’ etc.

I’ve done this walk of shame too many times to count but that makes it no easier. Maybe hating it, and myself, so much means there’s still some kind of hope for me. You can’t blame me for hanging onto any shred of hope that I’m not horrible even though I know I am. It’s all excuses, I know that.

I park in the driveway as always. Rebecca works crazy hours as a nurse, including pulling 20 straight hours over Saturday night and the last thing she needs to worry about is parking. Besides, it’s safer if she takes the garage.

It’s habit to look at my face and make sure that only my hollow eyes are staring back. I’ve gotten good at making excuses and luckily Brian is very good about not marking me too much but I always check. I quadruple check that I’ve put my wedding ring back on and then it’s time. I grab my backpack which holds my club and play clothes and make sure it’s zipped before getting out and throwing it over my shoulder.

It’s just past 2 a.m. on Saturday night. I have 12 hours to sleep and get myself together before Rebecca gets home and I’m going to need it. She’ll pass out asleep as soon as I make her lunch but I need to be at 100% even if only for an hour. Brian may not leave marks but all of my joints and muscles ache from the delicious scene we did earlier. A bath is definitely in order if I can stay awake long enough.

I mostly stumble into the house, the lock fighting me; I really need to get a new key made. Hers works well, that’s really all that matters. Immediately I freeze, I hear… crying? “Becca?” As my eyes adjust and my ears zero in, I can make out her small form on the couch. I drop my bag and sit down, pulling her into my arms.

She comes willingly, almost crawling into my lap before she pushes me away and looks into my eyes. “Where were you?”

“I…” I’m usually better at excuses but my brain is still foggy and everything about this is wrong. I sent her to work with a kiss hours ago. Why is she here? “I was out, work people. Drinking. What’s wrong?”

She flicks on the table lamp and I’m momentarily blinded but soon enough I see the stare she’s giving me and how red her eyes are. No. NO. “Becca? Did you? We? Again?” No more words are necessary, she just bites her lip and looks away and I know she’s fighting back more tears. “I’m sorry sweetheart, so damn sorry. Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not!” I know it’s a stupid question but I still have to ask. We’d thought maybe, this time, it would stick. Number five, this pregnancy lasting longer than the others, long enough that we couldn’t help but hope no matter how scared we were. “I’m sorry” she whispers and my heart breaks. As hard as this is for me, it’s nothing compared to what she’s feeling and experiencing.

“It’s not your fault but I’m sorry too, Becca. What can I do?”

“Nothing Alex, nothing. Thirteen weeks, I thought…”

“I know.” The words are almost automatic because we’ve had this discussion too many times, more than anyone should. I wanted to stop trying a year ago but she’s braver than I am. She always has been.

“I’ll be back.” She heads for the bathroom and I get us each a glass of water. She doesn’t sit when she gets back, just towers over me as much as she possibly can being 5’2“. “You don’t smell like beer, or a bar for that matter.”

This time I’m more prepared. Had I said bar? No. “It was a restaurant and I didn’t drink much.”

She’s not letting this go. For the first time in our relationship she doubts me. I can see, hear and feel it. “You took your bag out to eat?” I glance over even though I know exactly what she’s talking about. It looks so innocuous slumped on the floor but it’s a ticking bomb. “Alex?” she demands. I can’t say it’s been in my car since Friday, she knows better. It’s not my wrestling bag, that would be easily explained. “I already know, I’m not stupid. But your timing, Jesus H Christ!! Today? Tonight? You’re fucking some slut while I’m bleeding through my scrubs, losing OUR baby?!?”

She never cusses and rarely gets angry and she is raging, hormones and emotions and her almost right ideas fueling her fury. “I wasn’t with a woman.” I struggle to emphasize the right words, to calm her while telling the truth. She shouldn’t have to deal with this at all and certainly not tonight. “Let’s go to bed, you should rest” I offer.

“Alex” she sighs and I don’t know how to take it. I think I’ve won when she steps towards the hall but she veers left and walks over to my bag, then leans down. The metal zipper being pulled slowly open reverberates through the room and I can’t breathe. I need to stop her but I’m frozen. My brain can’t decide whether to yell, to invent an excuse or let my muscles react. I learned as a child that if it’s going to be bad, there’s nothing to do except give them as little ammunition as possible. I wait. “What is this?” she asks, pulling out a pair of very black, very small, very pleather shorts. She rights them, realizes they’re shorts and then holds them against herself to compare their size. And then, slowly, she walks towards me and extends her hands, realizing in an instant that they’re not for some other woman. No, they’re for me.

My throat has closed up and I can barely breathe, much less talk, but she deserves an answer. I want to lie. That sounds awful but it’s habit and it would save her, at least tonight, from anymore pain.

She looks up at me and I expect her to be angry but instead she’s just confused and that somehow manages to make it even worse. “Alex?” When I don’t respond she steps back, crouching down and grabbing my backpack which she unceremoniously just tips over and spills all over the floor. “I don’t understand. Are you… are you a stripper? Alexander Lee VanLear! They wore more than this on Magic Mike!”

I don’t want to lie. I should lie and tell her I’m a stripper and try to somehow salvage this because that would be easier to explain away and easier to forgive than the truth. “I’m not a stripper” I manage to eek out in little more than a whisper. But I sort of am, really. They don’t pay me for it and that’s sort of a prerequisite for being a stripper, isn’t it? Otherwise you’re just a flasher.

“Did. You. Wear. These. Tonight?” she enunciates slowly and clearly like she’s talking to a child, all while my shorts dangle by her index finger. I just nod. It’s more of a twitch than an actual nod but she sees it. “Why?” She walks back over to the couch and sits down and I’m glad, she should be resting. So should I. I’m fighting sub drop and would rather do anything but this right now. “I’m assuming you didn’t wear these to the restaurant to have a few drinks with your teacher buddies. I know Bill and even though he’s a prankster he wouldn’t make you wear this in public. So let’s cut the shit, Alexander. Tell me.”

“I can’t” I mumble, because it’s true. If I knew the words and had the strength to say them I would have done this years ago. I didn’t because I don’t and I can’t. I walk over and sit on the floor, resting my hand on her knee. “Rebecca, I love you. You’re…” Everything. She’s my everything and she’s suffering and she’s miserable and in pain, both emotional and physical. “You should be in bed. Let me take care of you tonight and tomorrow we can talk, if you want to.”

“Alex, you’re scaring me.”

I didn’t expect that. “Why?”

“Because you know me really well and you think that I’m going to feel worse after we talk than I do right now. It’s bad, isn’t it? I mean, how can it not be? You’ve got booty shorts in your bag and whatever that is.” Her hand flings out in the direction of my backpack and I look over. The collar, its shiny ring and lock visible from even here. “It’s like 50 Shades of Grey!?!” she asked, her eyes widening. “You wear that outfit and some chick in thigh-high boots ties you up?”

She was closer. Very, very close. “Sort of. Becca, it’s nothing. Sometimes I just need…” I tried to choose my words carefully but I can’t think, my brain is roadblocked. “How much do you want to know?”

“All of it Alexander, all of it. How long has this been going on?”

“Since college.”

“You’ve been with other women since college?” she screeches.

“No. No.” There’s no point in hiding anything anymore. Part of me is relieve to finally get this off my chest. “I don’t play with women, Becca.”

She throws her hands up over her face but I still hear her sharp inhale. “You’re…” she exhales. Her hand moves but it doesn’t register until her palm cracks across my cheek. “Get away from me!” She stands quickly, mostly stepping around me and then turns, scowling down at me. “I don’t even know what to do with you right now. Wait, do you have sex with them? Oh my god, you… You’ve been cheating on me since before we even got married?”

“I’m sorry” I whine because there are no other words and even those don’t come close to conveying how I feel, have always felt.

“I can’t believe you put my health at risk like that. How could you… GAY?!?!” she practically screams.

“I’m careful, safe” I reply, trying to remove some of her worry. “I’m clean, I swear.”

She rests her hands on her abdomen and I know what she’s thinking. She wants to blame me and I understand, she’s been blaming herself for way too long. She knows better, she’s a nurse and has had every kind of test and workup imaginable over the past two years but she’s angry and that’s okay. “Why did you marry me, Alexander? Why did you get down on one knee and give me this ring? Stand up in front of our families and God when you were… Gay? Oh god, you told me. I knew all about… but you said you weren’t.”

It’s my turn to back away, scooting towards the recliner. I can’t deal with those memories on top of everything else, not tonight. “I asked you to marry me because I love you. I wanted our life, this life. I want to spend it with you. Can we talk about the rest later?”

“NO. We’re talking about it all right now. The summer before our senior year they said you spent it at camp but you told me they sent you away because they thought you were gay. To one of those conversion centers, whatever. But you’re gay, or bi or whatever and since you haven’t bothered to actually answer that I’ll just have to guess. So why did you even tell me about it? Why not just stick to their lie?”

My parents had sworn me to secrecy, for my own good of course they’d said, but I’d had had to tell someone. Becca had been the only person I could trust and even though I couldn’t tell her the truth I just needed someone to know what had happened, for someone to understand. “I just needed to tell someone. I shouldn’t have, I knew that then and I know it now but the words just slipped out. We tell each other everything.”

She laughs or maybe cackles is more accurate. I know it’s pain and frustration and I can’t blame her for anything and everything she’s feeling and saying right now. “No, I tell you everything, Alex. You tell me nothing. I’ve been so stupid! The bruises, they’re not from wrestling practice.”

“Not most of them, no” I admit. “I’m sorry.”

“So who is he? Do you have a boyfriend or do you just sleep around?”

I don’t know how to possibly explain myself but somehow I really want to. I want her to understand. “It’s not like that, they’re not my boyfriends. I’m a sub and I scene with men and yes, sometimes they fuck me but it’s not, we’re not together like you and me are. It’s just a release, it’s just… they don’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t mean anything?” She shakes her head and closes her eyes for a few seconds before they open wide and she stares right at me. “Stop lying. If they didn’t mean anything you wouldn’t do it. I think you’re right, maybe we shouldn’t talk anymore tonight.”

Finally. I take a deep breath and stand, my muscles screaming at me. “It will be better in the morning. Do you want something to eat before we go to bed?”

“Are you serious? I don’t want anything from you, not tonight and not ever again. Pack your bags and get out.”

No. She has every right of course but no, please no. “Becca.”

“Don’t come near me and don’t say anything else, just go. Please. Go back to whoever you were with instead of being here with me when I needed you. Get out.”

I don’t want to argue with her but I also don’t want her to be alone. “Would you call your sister? Have her come stay with you tonight?”

“Why are you acting like you care?” she hisses. It’s not her, I’ve never seen her like this, but it’s completely understandable.

“Becca, I do care. I love you. With all of my heart, I do. I know you hate me right now and if you need time I’ll give it to you but please know how sorry I am. I have hated myself every single night I left this house. I’m worried about you. Can Ashley come? I’ll get a hotel, I told you that Brian isn’t, it’s not like that.”

“Brian.” She says his name slowly as if she’s tasting a new food. “I should have known. That body, your hair! And you’re so sweet, so damned sweet. How can you be so good to me and then run off to, never mind. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want to get drunk and go to bed and you are going to pack your shit and get out of here. I’m serious, you have two minutes and I’ll call the cops if I have to.”

I do as she asks and then send a text to Ashley once I’m in my car, relieved that she answers right away that she can head over.

Two

I wake up early Sunday afternoon in a stifling hot hotel room. The loud air-conditioning unit is doing its best to pump air into the room but it isn’t anything like cold. I walk over to see if there is any chance of opening the window but no, of course not. I need out of here but first I needed a shower.

I almost break into tears when I sit on the floor to rummage through my suitcase. I didn’t do anything last night, not even brush my teeth. I stripped out of my clothes and went straight to bed. Now the realization that my life is packed in a suitcase and that Rebecca is at home, miserable, hits me like a ton of bricks. I lunge for my phone and dial but she doesn’t answer. I don’t leave a voicemail, there is little to say and even less chance that she’ll listen to it.

Brian’s name is on the screen, only two below Becca in my contact list. I can’t not text him; everything in my body is screaming for punishment, for the rest of me to feel as bad as my soul does right now.

Alex:

Sir Brian, I’m available to play today if it would please you.

His response comes just a few minutes later; he’s always good about it.

S. Brian:

You’re never available on non social Sundays. To what do I owe this pleasure?

He’s right, once a month I can fake a wrestling tournament or practice but I do it as little as possible. I can only hope that him asking means he might be free.

Alex:

I’m a desperate boy.

S. Brian:

didn’t get quite enough last night?

Alex

: I enjoyed it immensely Sir. I can be free anytime today.

S. Brian:

Be here in an hour.

Alex:

Yes Sir :)

I shower and shave as quickly as possible and then toss everything back in the suitcase, dropping the key at the front desk as I hurry towards my car. As always I remove my wedding ring and text him when I pull into the driveway and he comes to meet me at the front door. “Hello Alex.”

I know I’m doing nothing but avoiding everything that is wrong in my life but I need to, at least for an hour or two. “Hello Sir. Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always. Come in. Can I get you anything?”

I keep my eyes on the ground, Sir Brian doesn’t like to be looked at. “No sir, thank you.”

“Go on in and prepare yourself, you have five minutes.”

His bedroom is a comfort, a known entity after the craziness of last night. I put my backpack on the floor next to the dresser just like always and dig out my collar, locking it into place. I strip down to just my boxer briefs, for some reason he only likes black and has me leave them on, and get into position. Then the hard part; I try to get into headspace. I glance up at the triskele attached to the ceiling and try to remember last night. The feeling of floating. The freedom.

“You look beautiful Alex, are you ready to play?” he asks, his heavy boots making the floor vibrate.

“Yes Sir.”

“Inspection.” We always start this way. In the beginning I sometimes went to the wrong inspection position but I’m an old pro by now and I lock my fingers behind my head, making sure I keep my chin tilted down. He walks around me, touching the places he was rough on last night, checking. “How is your knee?”

I know to be honest, always. “A little tender.” He doesn’t answer but I know he’ll make sure that whatever position I’m in today doesn’t put too much stress on it, he’s very kind that way.

He puts two fingers under my chin and lifts my head. “You may look at me.” I do and he smiles. “I got what I wanted last night, what can I do for you today?”

His fingers are gone and I know that means I should be looking at the ground again. “I need as much as you can give me, Sir.”

“How long do we have?”

I have to work tomorrow morning but I don’t even know where I’m sleeping tonight. “I have work tomorrow.”

“So do I, that’s not an answer.” From most other Doms I would be worried I’d angered him but Brian is a nice guy.

The only answer I even consider giving him is an honest one. “I could sleep here, Sir, if it would please you.”

He backs up, his feet disappear. “Sit down.” I’m confused at first until I see him pointing at the bed and I sit on the edge, my hands folded in my lap. “Is something wrong? Did something happen? You’re never available Sunday nights.”

I stay silent because I don’t know where to begin and I don’t know how much I should tell him. This is supposed to be an escape and talking will ruin that.

“Alex?” he asks, the demand obvious even in his kind voice.

“I… my wife threw me out of the house so I–”

He comes up and stands right between my legs, grabbing my chin in his hand. “What?”

“She found out and–” I say, trying to explain.

“You’re MARRIED?” he yells, the anger bouncing off the walls. He drops me, backing away. “Put on your clothes and go.”

What? I mean he, no, no I’d never told him but I just assumed he’d noticed, that he knew. He never asked and it wasn’t in our paperwork. Granted most Doms didn’t mention it but… “Sir? Please!” I sound whiny even to my own ears and hate it.

“Enough. We’re done. I don’t play with married men, Alex. Good-bye. Let yourself out and do it quickly.”

The bedroom door shuts loudly behind him and I struggle to catch my breath. No, no. It… I… damn it! I jump up, shoving my legs into my pants and stabbing my arms into my shirt. Fine, fine, I’ll go. Screw him. I struggle to get into my shoes and grab my bag, my long legs carrying me quickly through his small house. I spare a glance, hoping to see him but no, he’s disappeared. Fine. I run my hand through my hair, take a deep breath and open the door.

I’m not sure where to go because I have nowhere to be. I can only blame myself. Brian and I had never discussed it so I shouldn’t just air my dirty laundry but how was I supposed to know he’d react like that? The hotel is my best option, my only option really but instead I drive to the mall and sit in my car in the parking lot. Eventually hunger pains win and I go through the drive-through, parking at the very back of the lot and taking my time eating.

It’s garbage and I barely taste it but eventually the wrappers are empty and I shove them into the bag and get out to stretch my legs, dropping it into the overflowing trashcan. I walk inside to use the restroom and then, on instinct, I drive to school.

It’s Sunday evening and I might get lucky and find something going on. Some of the girls teams, especially, play at weird times. It’s mostly because of bullshit regarding their lack of funding and the price of buses. The boys football team never has any trouble getting buses to their games on Friday and Saturday nights but I’ve had to pull strings and practically beg for wrestling buses. I know it’s worse for the girls teams.

The school is quiet, dark and locked. I have keys and I have a classroom but it seems like more trouble than it’s worth and the last thing I need to do is jeopardize my job so I find myself sleeping in my car simply because doing anything about it feels like an insurmountable task. At 4 AM I give up; I just can’t sit here any longer. I decide on coffee and a bathroom break and on the way there I pass my gym which is lit up and has cars in the lot. I usually run outside in nice weather but this will work out perfectly. Two hours later I’m exhausted, clean and in fresh clothes. I have plenty of time for coffee and a bagel before heading back to school. Maybe, just maybe, this week will be better than the weekend was.

I spend my day teaching my students how to calculate the area of polygons. Some of them get it right away but most can’t be bothered to pretend to care. That’s okay, there are a few in every class that make it worth it. After the bell rings I head out to try to keep high schoolers with brand-new licenses from killing each other or themselves. It’s chaos every afternoon but once the parking lot clears I stop by my car, grab my wrestling bag, and hit the gym.

“Van Lear!” Bill calls, taking my bag. Apparently I’m late.

“Jackson” I reply, deciding to not bother changing. Bill can coach the mat today, I don’t mind sitting back and refereeing a few matches.

That’s all we say to each other for the next two hours, the boys take all our focus and we’re on opposite sides of the floor. It isn’t until I put the last pieces of equipment into my bag and heave it over my shoulder that he asks “Is Rebecca working?”

I don’t know if I look as scared as I feel in that moment but at least I know the answer, not that it matters. “Yeah, she is.” She was scheduled, anyway. I wonder if she went in. Probably, she wouldn’t want to leave them short-staffed.

He slaps me on the shoulder. “Good, then you can come eat at our place. Jen has been bugging me to invite you.”

No, no I can’t. But really, where else do I have to go? Nowhere. I don’t have a hotel room yet again although it seems much more doable tonight. Of course, she may have canceled my credit cards, who knows? I wouldn’t blame her if she did. The problem is that if I go over to Bill and Jen’s tonight I will end up telling them what happened and I really don’t want anyone to know because it’s all my fault and I look horrible no matter what side you come at it from. I should go get a room and watch some mindless TV until I’m tired enough sleep. It wouldn’t take long. That makes perfect sense but instead I find myself saying “Okay. What time?”

“Now, shithead. I have beer and you look like you need one. I’ll meet you there.”

I give him the finger in response and half an hour later I’m pulling into their driveway. Jen sweeps me into a hug as soon as she opens the door. “It’s been forever, how are you?” She finally releases me and I plaster a smile on my face but her eyes squint up and I know that she’s looking right through me. “We can talk later. Bill?” she yells over her shoulder, “get Alex a beer.”

They have a couch with recliners at each end and Bill and I spend a lot of time here watching all kinds of movies and ballgames. I know which seat is mine and settle in just as he returns from the kitchen, handing me a cold beer. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Missed you at lunch today.”

I don’t want to tell him that for some strange reason I hadn’t been able to face the teacher’s lounge today so instead I teased him. “Scared to sit alone with the seniors?”

“No, Beth sat in your spot. You know she’s a little bit crazy.”

Beth, Mrs. Wilhelm to her students, teaches 11th grade English and yes, she is certainly a bit out there. “But not dangerous crazy, fun crazy.”

“She doesn’t bathe enough, Alex. Do you know how hard it is to eat when you’re being drowned in BO?”

I look over at his beer gut and roll my eyes. “I think you’ll live.” He taps my beer and I gulp it down as he laughs. “Fucker.”

Jen leans around the corner and announces that dinner is ready and I am suddenly starving. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast except for a granola bar I had stashed in my desk. I pretty much wolf down everything on my plate and they both insist I eat the last pork chop. I’m stuffed and praising Jen’s cooking when Bill goes over to the counter and brings over a container of homemade brownies.

“I can’t, I’m stuffed.”

Jen scoffs. “Nonsense, it is Wafer thin!” I’ve never met anyone who likes Monty Python more than Jen except maybe Bill.

“Like you” Bill adds, laughing.

“Fine.” It’s easier to eat one and explode than try to talk them out of force-feeding me.

I take one bite and Jen asks “so now that I’ve fed you, what’s going on?”

I don’t want to lie, not anymore, but I also don’t want talk about it. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jen. But thanks.”

She sighs and I can tell she’s trying to decide whether or not to push. “Well is there anything we can do?”

I’m joking when I say “not unless you have a guest house I could borrow for a week.”

Bill leans over, completely serious. “For you or for family? That’s right, you don’t have any. Hatched from an egg or something.” He backhands me on the shoulder again to let me know he’s kidding, at least mostly.

“For me but–”

Jen interrupts me. “Bill, take him downstairs and show him the mother-in-law suite.”

“I don’t think he was serious, honey. He has a house, remember? You’ve been there.” They tease each other constantly and I’m used to it. “Alex, wait… are you serious? You need a place? Come on, I’ll show you. It’s a little bit of a mess, it’s sort of our storage room right now but we could get it fixed up in no time.”

I haven’t said anything but somehow I find myself following him down the stairs. There’s a storage room and then one other door which opens into a little studio apartment. There’s a bathroom right next to the kitchen and then a big open space that has a bed in it as well as a love seat and television. He was right, the bed is covered with stuff and there are piles in two corners. There’s a turkey roasting pan on the kitchen counter and it’s fairly obvious no one has actually stayed down here for quite a while.

“So, will this work? We’ll clear off the bed, no worries.”

It couldn’t possibly be this easy “You’re just going to let me sleep here, no questions asked?”

He laughs. “Oh hell no, there will be lots of questions but we don’t have to do it tonight.”

That’s good enough for me. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No worries man, that’s what friends are for. You bring anything?”

“Yeah, I have a suitcase.”

“Good. Grab it while I clean up in here. And Alex?”

“Yeah”

“You’ll work it out.”

If only he knew.

Three

Voicemail again. I hang up. It’s been six weeks and I still haven’t heard from Rebecca. I’ve called, texted, and even mailed her a letter but I refuse to force myself on her.

Other parts of my life have settled down a little bit. Bill and Jen have been gracious hosts and my ATM card still works so I paid them some rent. They gave up asking about the situation after a week or so, content with whatever story they came up with in their heads. They know Becca and I are on the outs and luckily that’s all. I don’t know if they would still let me stay with them if they knew everything and it’s not a risk I can take.

It’s Saturday. I haven’t been to Conflicted or had a hook up since I moved in even though I think about nothing else every Saturday night. Somehow it feels dirty and sullied even though I know that’s ridiculous. If anything I should feel better about going now than when I was still living with Rebecca but I feel exposed, like I’m walking around with a big scarlet letter M on my chest. Or maybe G. I deserve a lot of letters. Maybe I’m still licking my wounds from Brian. We got along well, worked well together and he was such a nice guy. I burned a lot of bridges and I’m not naïve enough to think that they’ll ever be rebuilt. Hell, they’re still smoking.

I have an undeniable urge to go somewhere that I can be myself. I just want to be around people who won’t think I’m horrible if they actually get to know me. Is that asking so much? Yeah, I know it is. I’m a mess, a disaster and an asshole all wrapped in one broken, too tall package. Still, as cute as this little basement room is, I’m tired of looking at the walls.

I could go to Conflicted. Worst case, Brian has told all the other Doms that I’m married and a lot of them probably just won’t be interested but that’s okay because I’m not really, either. Not tonight. I miss my previous Dom, Wesley. Unfortunately Denver is a little bit too far to go for a scene but that gets me thinking that maybe a change of scenery is exactly what I need. I pull out my laptop and start looking for other states that my teaching qualifications can transfer to. It’s not like I’m madly in love with Los Angeles, who is? I submit a few resumes to see what happens. I can always tell them I’m not interested if I change my mind tomorrow but if even one district is interested in me, it would be a huge ego boost and a possibility and right now I can use all the possibilities I can get since I’m currently hovering at zero.

Knowing that I might be able to get out of here gives me the strength to quickly change into something club appropriate before pulling on my sweats. Luckily I have my own entrance even though it means climbing a steep hill around the side of their house and I’m smart enough not to attempt it when it’s been raining.

When I arrive, I hand over my phone, grab both a black and white armband from the bouncer in case I change my mind later and check my sweats at the coat and clothing drop. As soon as I enter the lounge I’m glad I came because Mike and James and Kevin and Ollie are gathered at a table. Ollie smiles at me immediately and I walk over, my head down.

“Would you like to sit with us, Alex?” Kevin asks.

There’s no malice when I sneak a peek at his eyes, nor is the expression on his face one of disgust. “I would like that very much Sir, thank you.” I slide down onto the floor next Ollie who immediately tells me he’s missed me.

Sir Greg and Chris arrive not much later and I end up telling him that I’m single. I don’t know why I choose to confide in Chris but he handles it pretty well and I’m relieved that at least someone knows because if he knows, most of the group will soon. It saves me from talking about the details too much.

I spend about an hour dancing and have a blast with Mike. Mistress Allison’s boys put on an amazing show and she gives me a good long look afterwards, walking right up to me. She’s never approached me before and I fight hard to hide my surprise. “You’re too tall for me but you’re stunning, boy, absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you ma’am” I reply politely.

Then she absolutely renders me speechless. “You should wear your wedding ring, lots of folks like that sort of thing. Have a good night, Alexander.” And she’s gone, spinning on her four-inch high heels. Her hair is so long that it leaves two seconds after she does. She’s beautiful and glorious and I love that she’s completely comfortable in her skin. Who says you have to be rail thin to be gorgeous?

---

At lunch on Tuesday I listen to a voicemail from Ollie inviting me over. I call him back. “Hi Ollie.”

“Hey Alex! So, I know you’re a teacher and I’m wondering what time you finish up in the afternoons.”

“I have wrestling Monday and Friday and don’t get out of here till five but the rest the week I’m usually done by three. Why?”

“Three is perfect. Would you like to come to dinner tonight? Come over after work and we can have some boy-only time until Master gets home.”

I’ve been walking down the hallway and I step outside, making sure there aren’t any students nearby. “Did Chris tell you?”

I can hear his inhale. “Don’t be mad but yes.”

There’s no point in not being honest, he already thinks whatever he’s going to. “Are you going to yell at me? I can’t do hard right now.”

“Alex! I’m offended. No, honey, I’m not. I was worried about you before but if you can’t even laugh at that hard dick innuendo, I’m really concerned. Come to me. We will talk and laugh and I will feed you yummy things.”

How can I say no to that? Four hours later I’m knocking on his front door. He immediately pulls me into a hug but I worry when he releases me and turns his head to cough. “You okay?”

He waves it off. “Fine, fine.” The beeper goes off and he heads towards the kitchen. “Cookies, come help yourself.”

The tray he’s pulling out is the third kind, there are already chocolate chip and some snowball or sugar cookie looking ones resting on cooling racks. I grab a chocolate chip. “These are divine. What are all the cookies for?”

“Tomorrow is Master’s crappy and long day at work so I’m going to send these along with him. It may not help his caseload but if everyone else is happy, that may make his day a little bit easier. So, how are you?”

Kevin is a lucky, lucky man. I don’t know how to answer his question because people usually don’t want to know but this is Ollie and I can tell from his voice and the way he’s looking at me that he really wants the truth. “I guess I’m okay but the last month has absolutely sucked. That’s not true, it could and probably should be much worse so I shouldn’t complain but I just, I don’t know what to do with myself. Does everyone hate me?”

“Wine?”

“No thanks.” He’s probably figuring out how to say ‘of course we all hate you’ in the nicest possible way.

“Alex, listen very carefully: everyone does not hate you. Granted” he teased “not all of the surveys are in.” He grabs a cookie and comes over to sit with me. “How honest do you want me to be?”

Not much. I’m really not sure if I can take it. “Feel free to lie.”

“Sorry, you’re getting the truth because you need it and it’s probably not as bad as you think. Okay, look, this is just my opinion. Do I like that you were married and cheating? No, I do not. Harsh but true. I like you, I think that you’re sweet and funny but I’ve always kept my distance a little, you know?”

He was right, that could have been worse. “That’s fair.”

“I don’t know your story or how you ended up where you were or what happened with your wife and I don’t really need to know. I just want you to know that if you need anything, this is a safe space. If you need help I can pull some strings. Besides, Chris likes you and that pretty much means you’re good with me. He’s traveling yet again but his strings are much longer than mine and I’m sure he would help you out if you said the word.”

“That’s… that’s really nice, thank you.”

“It’s what we do for family. Forget about it. I need to peel potatoes, can I put you to work?”

“Absolutely.”

Four

I sneeze as soon as I park in Bill’s driveway; springtime allergies always do that to me. I need pills pronto. Well, maybe tomorrow. It’s been a long week already and I’m tired. The ground is saturated so I have to go in through their front door which I hate to do, I don’t like to bother them. I make it almost to the basement door when I hear my name. Jen. She’s sitting at the kitchen island, an envelope in her hand.

“This is for you, Alex.”

It’s nothing good judging by the look on her face. “What is it?” I never get mail here, Rebecca has told me to come over twice now, she leaves my mail and anything else she deems ‘mine’ in a box on the front step. I feel like a reverse UPS man.

“I didn’t open it but I’m guessing divorce papers. It’s from some law office. Are you sure, really, really sure that you two can’t work this out?”

She hasn’t pried much and I don’t blame her for being upset. “No, I don’t think so Jen. It’s my fault and she has every right to hate me and I don’t want to talk about it.”

She’s still gripping the envelope tightly even when I try to take it from her, as if letting it go makes it true. “Okay” she says finally, releasing it. “If you need to talk or anything, hey, you should come upstairs for dinner.”

I probably should but I can’t imagine facing anyone after opening up what’s in this envelope. I’ll make peanut butter and jelly and do my best to force it down. “How about tomorrow?”

She forces herself to smile. “Sure sweetie. Take care of yourself.”

I nod and make my escape. I sit down at my tiny table and stare at the envelope in front of me. Of course I knew this was coming, how could I not? I’ve been out of the house for three months now and Rebecca and I haven’t even spoken, much less dealt with anything.

My phone rings and I notice my hand trembling when I pick it up. I only look because I think it might be Rebecca, she probably knows I’m getting the papers tonight. It’s not though, it’s Ollie. His is the only other call in the world I would accept right now and that’s only because he’s been so sick. “Hi Ollie.”

“Alex, hi.” His voice is a little raspy but sounds okay considering he was in the hospital with pneumonia last time I went to the club. I haven’t been back to the club in weeks because our table just wasn’t very much fun. Everyone was scared and worried for Kevin and Ollie. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, thank you for the card.”

He was seriously worrying about that? “It’s absolutely not a problem, how are you feeling?”

“Better. I’ve been calling one person a day to let them know I’m alive and trying to get caught up and congratulations, today’s your lucky day. I hope you didn’t think I was avoiding or ignoring you.”

“No, of course not.” But yes, a little bit at first. I’d gone over to his place and then hadn’t heard from him for a month. Obviously I felt like an asshole when I found out he was in the hospital but until then, yeah, I’d wondered. Unanswered texts will do that.

“I want to see you. I need human interaction but I can’t go to the club yet. Will you come over for dinner?”

He sounds hopeful, like he really wants to see me. “I…” I stammered. “When?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I actually can’t, I have plans, I’m sorry.” Jen will literally kill me if I didn’t show up.

“Friday?” he asks. “Or Sunday brunch?”

It’s so nice to be wanted and I miss the few friends I have a lot, if I can really call them that. “Friday is fine. What time?”

“Six or so? We’ll eat at 6:30 or whenever it’s done. Master has been helping me in the kitchen a little bit because I’m still slacking.” He coughs and I can’t help but worry.

“Can I bring anything? Dessert at least?” I offer, wanting to take a little bit of the load off of him.

“Absolutely, bring something chocolate. Enough for eight.”

“Eight?” I ask. “How many are coming?”

He laughs although it’s hoarse. “Not eight but I like chocolate. Besides, I lost weight in the hospital and chocolate is the best way to put it back on. Shhh, don’t ruin my fun, you gorgeous sculpted gym boy.”

He sounds tired and I want to do absolutely anything I can to avoid opening the envelope that’s lying in front of me but I have to let him go. “I’ll bring you something delicious. Get some rest, Ollie.”

“I will. See you Friday at six, Alex.”

---

I knock hesitantly, the cake balanced in my other hand. Mine is the only car in the driveway so apparently Ollie didn’t lie, it’s not going to be a party. Not that he exactly sounded like he’s up for one one but you never know. Kevin opens the door.

“Hey Alex, welcome. Come in.”

“Thank you Sir Kevin.”

“No titles necessary tonight, Alex.” He takes the cake and I shrug out of my jacket, hanging it on the hooks next to the door. I kick off my shoes and wander into the kitchen. “Hi Ollie.”

Ollie is too busy to answer me right away, he’s looking at the cake that Kevin is trying to sneak into the refrigerator. “Oooh, it’s like an opera cake but more chocolate!”

“A little birdie told me you like chocolate” I tease.

“I do. Hi. So how was your week?” he asks, stirring something on the stove that smells amazing.

There’s no way I’m going to answer that question. Tonight is supposed to be fun. “Fine. Yours?” And it was, other than a huge fight in the hallway right outside my classroom and oh yes, the divorce papers.

“A little better than last week and that’s all I can hope for, it’s going to take awhile to get back to the amazing me. I actually slept through the night twice this week though, it was glorious!”

“It was” Kevin confirmed.

“I’m happy to sleep in the other room, Master” Ollie replies, obviously worried about messing with Kevin’s sleep.

“Well I’m not. It’s settled. It’s been settled.”

“Yes Master. Okay, Alex? Can you slice the bread?” He uncovers a loaf of still warm bread and I realize that it’s what I smell, at least mostly. Whatever’s on the stove is probably delicious too but wow, fresh bread.

“You made bread?” I stutter, absolutely amazed.

“I did. It’s easier than it looks.”

Kevin turns to me. “No it’s not” he mouths silently.

The doorbell rings and Ollie smiles at me when Kevin heads to the front door. “Friday nights are the only night I can count on him being on time. He doesn’t work on Shabbat. You’ll love him” he promises.

So it’s someone I don’t know? Kevin heads into the living room first and then a tall, dark, curly-haired Adonis steps into the kitchen, a bouquet of daffodils in his hand. He’s wearing a suit, well the remnants of one; his tie is loosened just enough to be incredibly sexy and I’m guessing the jacket is either in his car or hanging next to mine but I can tell by the wrinkles in his starched shirt that he wore one most of the day. The dark blue wool slacks fit him perfectly but it’s his socks that surprise me; they have flamingos on them.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/279e1b452253125108fad015db9abfdbddb6412f/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f796a7544713734476b61625447413d3d2d3738353835383536342e313761363536343832316466613364353731373434383936363834352e6a7067)

“I’m sorry if I’m late, I was stuck in a meeting” the stranger croons and his voice reminds me of caramel; sultry. “These are for you; the florist assures me that daffodils are fairly lung-friendly, my dear” he tells Ollie, kissing him on the cheek.

“Shabbat shalom. You’re so sweet, they’re beautiful. Dare? This is Alex” he says, smiling in my direction. “Alex, this is Dare.”

I have no idea why he’s unhappy to see me but he obviously is. Oh, Mr. tall dark and handsome tries to hide it but doesn’t quite get there. “Gut Shabbes.” Ollie just shrugs it off and smiles. “Relax. Dinner in 10.”

He accepts the beer that Ollie passes him and turns towards me all while I try not to swallow my tongue. Could this be any more awkward? Am I actually drooling? Why don’t I have a drink yet? Or two? One for each hand would be great. “Hello Alex, nice to meet you.”

He doesn’t really mean it but I’m pretty sure he’s mad at Ollie and not really upset with me. Maybe he thought he was the only one invited, just like I did. I run my hand through my hair, hoping that no wavy blond strands are making a break for it and heading sideways instead of back and over. “You too. Excuse me.” The bathroom. The bathroom is what I need right now.

I make my escape, shut the door and turn towards the mirror to watch myself breathe for a minute. I actually look okay but I check my teeth and straighten myself up a little bit. Not that it matters, I’m not trying to impress the guy but something about him makes me nervous. The realization hits me so hard that I back up and sit on the closed toilet seat. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be around him. There are many versions of ‘me’. There’s teacher me, there’s straight bro me, there’s sub me, and husband me. None of them fits tonight, not quite. If I’d met Dare on the street I would swear he is straight but I have to wonder since he’s at Ollie’s house. Sub me and straight guy me never meet but they’re my only options tonight. The fact that there’s no me-me makes me want to scream. How have I never noticed before?

By the time I get brave enough to leave the bathroom, food is being taken to the table. I grab a bowl Ollie thrusts into my hands and take it over, sitting in the seat Kevin motions me towards. Dinner is delicious but a little bit awkward. I stay quiet because it’s easier and always less dangerous but luckily Kevin and Dare have a lot to talk about. Ollie looks a little bit pale but he eats well.

Kevin brings out the cake afterwards and Ollie surprises me by asking me if I know how to play spades. “I do, at least I think I remember; I haven’t played since college. But I should go, really.”

“No” he whines, taking my hand.

Dare looks contrite. “Help me clean up while they serve the cake?” he asks me.

“Yeah, sure.” I can’t exactly say no even though I sort of want to.

Kevin gets halfway through saying ‘you don’t have to do that’ before he sees the look on Ollie’s face and decides to let us go ahead. “Thanks” he says, instead of finishing his sentence.

Dare already has most of the plates stacked so I hand him mine, grab two bowls and follow him into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, for earlier” he tells me and it sounds like he means it.

“It’s fine” I mumble in response because being alone with him is awkward enough; having a conversation just makes it worse.

“Do you know this is a set up? Did Ollie make me out to be some prize and you agreed to meet me? Or are you innocent in all of this?”

Oh. OOH. “Oh, he’s… oh.”

He turns at me and smiles. “It’s nothing personal, I’m just not looking right now. Besides, the last time I took a guy home from Ollie’s, well I can’t say it didn’t go well but I admit to making an ass of myself afterwards.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Wait. I’ve heard parts of this story from Mike. Is he talking about the Sherlock incident? “Chris?”

His eyebrows arch in acknowledgment and he turns back towards the sink. “I always forget how well you guys all know each other. I’m sort of on the fringes.”

“Same” I answer without thinking.

“But you’re a sub, right?” he says without a hint of malice in his voice.

“Sometimes.” That gets his attention and he turns around towards me. “But I’m not looking either so don’t worry about it.”

“Two queer men in a room and neither is interested in at least a hook up. What are the chances?” he teases although he has a point.

“Pretty slim.”

I’ve been mostly standing here while he did all the work but he seems happy enough with the kitchen and turns towards me. “I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome, you should stay and play cards. I’ll yell at Ollie later.”

I find myself saying “okay” even though I know I probably shouldn’t. He’s charismatic and has the most beautiful eyes and when they lock on me I find it nearly impossible to deny him. It’s probably good that nothing will happen between us because I could be in trouble.

Two hours later I drop my fork after eating my second piece of cake and sweep four cards towards me, the fifth and final trick I bid. Dare smiles at me as I lead with the two of spades. He easily plays under Ollie’s 10 and that’s it, we’ve won.

“Good game” Kevin acknowledges a bit sadly.

“It was fun. Can I do anything to help before I go?” I ask.

“No, no we’re fine” Ollie answers, waving me off. “Thanks for the cake, it’s delicious.”

“I’ll walk you out, I think I’m blocking you in” Dare says and I’m surprised at the offer.

Ollie smiles and has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. “Have a good night guys!”

Dare rolls his eyes but I think I’m the only one who sees it. I grab my jacket and slip into my shoes and Dare opens the front door for me. The streetlight gives off enough of a glow that I can see the expensive BMW parked behind my Honda. “Thanks, Alex, for understanding. I had a good time tonight.”

“No problem, and me too.” We’re standing at my car door and I’m not sure what to do because he’s not leaving.

“I haven’t beat them in a game of spades in a long time so thanks for that. Also for the cake.”

“You’re welcome.” He’s still here. His jacket isn’t on, he’s got it thrown over his shoulder with one finger under the collar. He looks really relaxed and I am most definitely not.

“Since you’re a nice guy I’m gonna go out on a limb and tell you something. I would really, really like to take you home tonight or at least kiss you because you are absolutely gorgeous but the problem is that I might actually really like you and after Chris, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Ollie sets me up with guys who aren’t actually available and since you’re not looking either I’m guessing maybe you fall into that category.”

Gorgeous? Me? But all I can think is “so you’re not interested because you might like me?”

“Something like that. So are you? Available? No strings attached?”

I think of the divorce papers still sitting on my table, unsigned. “Not quite.”

“That’s what I thought.” And with that he’s off, striding on those gorgeous long legs towards his sleek little BMW.