Let It Beatle Box Set

Love, Love Me Dude-2

I felt like I’d been hit by a train.

* * * *

Sundays were usually slow to start, for the guests. I went for a longer run this time, the need to get away from the fantasies I shouldn’t be having about a guy I should hate driving me insane. I pushed myself, speeding up until I was drenched with sweat and I hurt all over.

By the time I stopped, I was panting heavily, bent over with my hands on my knees as I tried to recover from six miles of pounding. I would pay for this later, I was sure of it.

Straightening after a minute, I stretched carefully, then took a quick dip in the ocean. It felt great on my overheated skin. After sufficiently cooling down, I walked back to the motel, thinking how strange it was to be hit on by Wheeler Ridley—who was gay, oh God—and he didn’t even know who I was. It would have been perfect had it happened when we were kids. But after all the turmoil I’d gone through…

I shook my head and headed to my room on the other side of the motel, almost running into the devil himself. Wheeler was dressed for a run, and I ignored his long legs and firm chest as I said a brief good morning and continued on my way. I could feel eyes on my back, and I knew he was likely watching my ass.

Maybe I should buy longer, looser fitting shorts instead of the thigh-high old school ones I always wore. A T-shirt would be good, too. I went inside and took a long, hot shower, ignoring my hard c**k as I got ready to start my day.

Later that afternoon, as I worked in the back office, Maury knocked on the door. “Come in,” I called out, and he entered.

“Everything all right?” I asked before looking at him. I frowned at his expression. “What’s wrong, hon?”

He sighed and ran a hand through cute, curly blond hair that fell into his gray eyes. “Sheila’s got the flu, as do the kids, so she won’t be able to do the housekeeping this week. I’ll be helping with the kids and other stuff so I don’t know how much I’ll be around. I’m sorry, Tory.” He was agitated, and I couldn’t have that.

“It’s okay, Maury. It’s not like she can help it.” I leaned back in my chair. “Take the week off, look after your sister and the triplets and I’ll see you next week, all right? We’re busy, but it’s not so bad that I can’t handle it. I’ll just sleep less, is all. Par for the course, you know?” I smiled, hoping he’d smile, too. Sometimes he was just too serious for a guy his age. He needed to have more fun.

But Maury still looked concerned. “You sure, Tory? I can come in for an hour or two in the evenings—”

“Don’t worry about it. Just do what you have to. If I’m desperate, I’ll let you know.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“You saying I work too hard?” I challenged him.

“I’m saying that the dictionary has your name as the definition under workaholic. You need more in your life, Tory.” His steel-colored eyes said he’d like to be the “more,” but I left that alone.

“Go on. Give Sheila and the kids my love. I hope they all get better soon. Don’t you go getting sick, either,” I warned.

Maury finally relaxed. “I won’t. Constitution of an ox. Thanks, Tory. You’re too good to us, you know? I really appreciate this. We all do.” He hesitated, then kissed me quickly on the cheek and ran out the door. I touched the spot with my fingers. Tory was sweet, but…

I shook my head and got up to man the front desk. I’d finish paperwork later. Good thing I’d already done some housekeeping stuff earlier in the day.

That evening, I laundered the linen and worked on my computer. I made a plan as to how to keep up with all the duties that were usually shared between three people. I could at least forward any motel calls to my cell phone, and I would leave a note for guests to give me a ring if they needed anything while I was running around. Cleaning, I’d fit in throughout the day.

At two in the morning, I finally finished my self-assigned tasks and slept for a few hours. The alarm went off at five o’clock, which seemed to come too soon. I dressed quickly, forewent my morning run, and got the complimentary breakfast setup while I stocked the housekeeping cart for my rounds at eight o’clock.

When I reached Room 120, it was ten o’clock and warm outside. I knocked on the door. “Housekeeping!” I announced, and hoped Wheeler wasn’t there.

“Come in,” was the muffled reply. Oh well.

I unlocked the door and entered. Wheeler lay on the bed, TV set on low volume while he typed away on his laptop. He glanced up, his mouth dropping open when he saw me emptying the trash and doing a quick cleanup of the room.

“You do this stuff, too?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him close the laptop and sit on the edge of the bed. “I thought you only worked at the front desk.”

I busied myself with changing out the towels in the bathroom before answering him. “I’m a small business owner, Mr. Ridley. I do everything, and if that’s what you’re here in town to do, open up your own business, you’ll find that out sooner or later. Or perhaps you know that already.”

I wiped down the bathtub and tiles, cleaned the toilet, and did some light dusting. I ended with vacuuming the carpet. Before I left, I asked, “Everything in order? Internet working? Cable?”

“Yes, yes, it’s all good. Thank you,” he said impatiently. “Where’s the lady that normally cleans?”

“It’s just me this week,” I replied as I exited his room. “Have a good day, sir.” I closed the door behind me and pushed the cart to the next room. There was a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob, so I kept on going.

“Hey, wait up!” I looked behind me to see Wheeler heading in my direction.

“I’m busy, Mr. Ridley.” I turned back to the cart and continued to the last door on the floor, the final unit to be cleaned, thankfully. I knocked and announced myself, but no one answered. I unlocked it and went inside. The room was empty.

“You didn’t go for your morning run,” he said, but before he could step inside the room, I stopped him.

“Only I or the paying occupants are allowed in here right now. Not you.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he said, and remained in the doorway.

I picked up the trash strewn all over the room and then dusted. “I didn’t have time to run this morning,” I said. After changing the sheets, I swapped out towels, wiped down the bathtub, and washed the sink and toilet.

I barely heard Wheeler when he said, “I missed seeing you out there,” since by now, I was vacuuming the carpet.

“Don’t see why that should stop you from running,” I replied when I turned off the machine. I stashed the dirty linen on the cart, packed everything up and locked the door behind me.

As I headed back the way I’d come, Wheeler said, “Well, you inspire me, all that sweat pouring down your chest.” He was practically licking his lips.

This was too much. I’d put Wheeler Ridley behind me years ago, and he needed to stay there. I stopped the cart and turned to face him. “What do you want, Mr. Ridley?”

“You don’t like me, do you?” he asked, as if surprised by that reality. “Something I said?” Wow, so clueless.

“How does my liking you or not matter? What, you were hoping for a quick roll in the sand with the innkeeper?” The flush on his cheeks said it all.

Time to come clean. “You know why you think you know me, Ridley? It’s because you do. Or, you used to. We grew up together, went to the same schools, played the same sports. But we hit high school, and went our separate ways. You were my best friend and the first boy I ever lo—” My eyes widened at what I almost said. “Things changed between us, and we stopped hanging out. I left home after high school, and I hadn’t given much thought to your existence until you turned up at my motel.” There, I’d said it.

He was stunned. “Wait. Tory…Cuthbert, right? But you…we weren’t best buds, were we? Or at least, that’s not how I remember it.” Wheeler scratched his head. “Kids grow apart, don’t they? Things are kind of fuzzy before high school. There were a bunch of us who used to hang out, though, right? But then we all drifted apart. I certainly never thought of you as…” The expression on my face must have been tragic because Wheeler looked shamefaced. “Forgive me, Tory. I said that wrong. I—” But I tuned him out as I processed the truth.

Fuck me. Wheeler hadn’t seen our friendship growing up the same way I had. I’d wasted all this time pining away after something that had only existed for me, and Wheeler hadn’t ever given two shits beyond being casual childhood buds. I’d let him get to me. Again.

I turned my back to him so he couldn’t see my face. “Well, now you know who I am, which, apparently is still the pathetic loser I was in high school. If we’re done here, I have a business to run.” I walked away briskly, pushing the cart ahead of me, but not really seeing where I was going. I didn’t care.

“Tory! I’m sorry…” I heard Wheeler call out, but I didn’t stop.

* * * *

The rest of the week I was too busy with work to worry about Wheeler Ridley—much. My mistaken assumptions about us as kids were much too painful to dwell on, anyway.

Interestingly enough, whenever I stopped by his door for housekeeping the “Do Not Disturb” sign was on the door. It was probably for the best.

When Saturday evening came around, I was exhausted, crabby, and ready to drop. Maury turned up at seven o’clock saying he’d work the front desk the rest of the night and do the laundry so I could get some sleep.

I staggered out from behind the desk and said, “What makes you think I haven’t slept?” My words were slightly slurred.

Maury smiled. “Oh, just the bags under your eyes, your sallow skin, that whole bloodshot thing you’ve got going on. Gives it all away.” He took my spot in front of the computer. “You look like you could sleep for days.”

“You saying I’m not the handsome devil you see every day?” Apparently I was so tired my mouth spewed out stupid stuff.

“Oh, we’re not arguing your looks, Tory. No amount of exhaustion will ever change how gorgeous you are.” I saw his cheeks flush, but his eyes were focused on the screen.

“Maury—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Feeling like s**t, I turned and headed for the door. “I hope Sheila and the kids are better. It’s great to have you back, hon.” And I realized I meant that.

“It’s great to be back,” I heard him say as I left.

* * * *

I slept like a rock for ten hours. Sunday morning, after setting up breakfast as usual, I headed to the beach. As it had been a week since I’d done any kind of exercise apart from running after the guests, I took it slow as I jogged in the early dawn along the shore.