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Authors: Ethan Day

BOOK: Sno Ho
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I forced a smile back at her, assuming Wade probably ate here every night and therefore didn't need a menu. She put an arm around Wade's shoulder and he in turn tossed one around her waist.

"Where
do
you find them, cuz?" Sarah asked in a somewhat peevy voice. "He's the hottest one yet."

I felt my face flush, realizing that while she did indeed disapprove of my homo-ness, it was out of envy, not hate. I could see Wade puff up a bit as I wondered exactly how many other 'ones' had been sitting right where I was in the past.

Wade seemed to sense the change in my demeanor.

"She's kidding...there haven't been
that
many."

He was about as convincing as that whole OJ Simpson 'if it doesn't fit you must acquit, B.S'. Wade started laughing as I allowed the expression on my face to let him know I wasn't buying it. I held out my hand to Sarah and introduced myself.

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I had no clue
who
these other men had been, but I suddenly felt a strong urge to hunt them all down.

"Just like me to wind up with the town hooker," I said, rolling my eyes as I opened the menu.

"And the first one I think I may actually like," Sarah said, pulling away from Wade. "He just called you a hooker."

"Thanks for re-cap," Wade said, as Sarah turned and walked away, laughing.

I was smiling behind the menu and peeked over the top at Wade. "She doesn't seem to think much of you either."

"She's my cousin, she likes me just fine—she's just not used to people talking to me like that." Wade's gaze was intently examining my eyes.

For the love of God, he's just a ski instructor. I supposed this was the benefit of being a big fish in a small pond. "What are you—the leader of the mountain Mafia? I'll try my best to muster up the right amount of reverence."

"That's okay, baby." Wade settled back into his chair. "I wouldn't want you to strain anything."

He laughed as I shot him a nasty look. "Considering the afternoon we had, I'd say it was a little late to start worrying about that now."

His eyebrows arched seeming to love the direction the conversation was now headed. "You know, I have been meaning to ask where you learned that lean back and impale yourself move?"

I grinned at him for a moment before getting control over my faculties. I peeked back down at the menu. "Please, that

'ole move...coach taught us that back in high school."

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"Wade." A man said while walking up to the table. "How are you, son?"

"Good, Mayor Nelson." Wade stood up and shook the man's hand.

The mayor was a little round, kind of short with a shiny bald head, but had a little something about him. A charisma—

you could tell that despite not being the best looking guy around, that one way or another he'd managed to get his way ninety percent of the time throughout his life. He was dapperly dressed in khakis and a navy blazer with a peachy colored shirt, no tie. He certainly moved with a confidence, and his wife who had stopped to chat at another table had that sort of small-town conservative, yet classy glamour. She looked like first lady material in an almost matching ensemble with a long khaki skirt, white blouse and peachy sweater draped over her shoulders.

"How's everything going up at the lodge?"

"Just fine, sir." Wade said as the men let go of one another's hand, causing the Mayor to thrust his my way.

"And who is your friend here?"

"Boone Daniels, this is our illustrious town Mayor, Gordon Nelson."

I took his hand and Gordon shook mine with vigor. "Glad to meet you, son. Glad. To. Meet you. And please call me Gordy...everyone does."

"Thank you for the...warm welcome, Gordy." I sat back down at the table as he let go of my hand.

"Yes, well...very nice, then," Gordy added as his wife took him by the arm. "My wife, Cecilia."

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She smiled sweetly. "It's lovely to meet you." She tugged on Gordy's arm. "Let's leave the boys to their dinner, dear."

"Excuse us then," Gordy said as he and his wife turned away. They seemed to be whispering something as they smiled at one another and I felt a little uneasy.

Wade took his seat, only to stand back up as another man descended upon us. The new guy was older, a full head of grey hair and a well-lined, but kind, face. He set two glasses and a bottle of red wine on the table. He was in very good shape for his age, seeming quite fit—which led me to believe it was the uncle. I nodded as they embraced, patting each other firmly on the back. The uncle was dressed a bit casually in jeans and a button up yellow shirt that was tucked in. He had on a small white apron, and had a white towel tucked into the string that tied it to his waist.

They separated and I stood again, beginning to feel like a gay-in-a-box, constantly popping up and down. Wade's uncle took my hand in his and patted it warmly, making what I assumed was an extra effort to make me feel welcome.

"Very nice to meet you, Boone."

I was shocked he already knew my name. Obviously Wade had been talking about me, which was kinda weird.

"Thank you, sir, you too."

"Well go on then, sit down and relax you two." Wade's Uncle patted us both on the shoulder. "The rib-eyes are looking especially good this evening."

"I'll have that, then," Wade nodded as he scooted his chair closer to the table.

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"Done." Uncle said, rubbing his hands together as he turned his attention toward me.

I realized I didn't know his actual name, but it felt weird to ask now. I handed the menu back as he poured us each some wine with his free hand.

"I'll have the same, I guess...medium rare."

"A man who knows the
right
way to eat his meat," Uncle said, looking back at Wade disapprovingly as I did my best to not laugh my ass off at the wording of that last sentence.

"This one likes it well-done...wasteful."

I was dying to make a crack about the way Wade liked to eat his meat. "That is
very
wrong."

"I suppose you like all the light oil brushed veggies and health food nonsense that Wade does?"

"Oh hell no," I said. "I'll take a baked potato and feel free to load that puppy up with bacon, cheese, sour cream, the works. I'll also take the Caesar salad, and the sauteed mushrooms and please feel free to use all the real butter you want. Go crazy!"

Uncle nodded approvingly and Wade shook his head at me.

"This one knows how to live." With that, uncle disappeared back into the bar area and out of sight.

"Please tell me his name," I said, placing my arm across the table.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Wade took a sip of his wine and looked me over. "It's Pete."

"Uncle Pete!" I smiled at Wade. "I like it."

Wade smiled back at me making my heart feel as though it had stopped momentarily. I picked up my glass of wine and 52

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took a long drink, momentarily at a loss of what to do or say under the scrutiny of his dissecting bright blue eyes.

"Please stop that," I finally said.

Wade grinned and finally looked down at the table for a moment. "Your insides are rotting out from all that butter you love so much."

I laughed, thankful for his disapproval as it was much less intense than that whole staring-holes-into-my-soul bit, he'd had going.

"But I'm pretty on the outside—and that's what really matters." I smiled as he shook his head at me. "Hey buddy—

don't take that preachy tone with me. In case you've forgotten, I'm the one who knows how to eat my meat."

Wade smiled again and winked at me. "That you do, sport."

* * * *

I'd excused myself from the table to go to the bathroom, and also because it couldn't hurt to get a little break from the lusty onslaught coming across the table at me from Wade. We hadn't even gotten to the entrees and I could feel my resolve slipping. I needed a moment to breathe and regain a tiny little sense of my sanity. As I weaved my way through the intimate dining room, I couldn't help but get the sense that all eyes were on me. It made me wonder if everyone was going to start interrogating Wade the instant I was out of earshot.

Wade's uncle smiled at me from behind the bar as I passed by. I waved and as I turned to face forward, coming up on the far wall where Wade said I'd find a hallway that led back 53

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to the bathrooms. That's when I saw it. How I'd missed it as I came in I wasn't sure as I froze in my tracks. It was a huge display—tons of framed photos and newspaper articles, a few magazine covers, including
Sports Illustrated
and the
Advocate
. And in the center, framed and mounted with its very own spot light gleaming down upon it, was unmistakably three Olympic Medals...one gold, one silver, and one bronze, all staring at me and taunting as if to say,
Get it, stupid?

I seemed aware that I was stumbling forward, getting closer, though I couldn't quite feel my legs moving me. There he was, much younger and skinnier, but definitely Wade, standing atop the medal platform, smiling, arms stretched out, holding flowers in one, the emotion in his face saying it all. That he was proud and humbled. My gaze drifted to the cover of the
Advocate
. I actually remembered seeing it when it had come out back in the mid-nineties. Wade had been the next big Olympian to do it since Louganis had come out back in the late eighties. I was around nineteen or twenty at the time and while I hadn't really ever followed sports, I did distinctly remember that the fact that Wade, in combination with Ellen, had come out to the world, helped give me the courage to tell my parents.

I closed my eyes, feeling my head begin to spin as all the noise of the restaurant seemed to drain away. I turned around and opened them to find Uncle Pete standing a few feet back. He was looking at me cautiously, as if trying to approach a deer in the woods without spooking it. I was startled by the sound of his voice as he said my name. Within an instant, sound came flooding back into my ears and I 54

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noticed Wade round the corner, his smile fading a bit as he looked into my eyes. My stomach sank and I began to imagine myself the butt of some joke that the entire town was probably in on. I felt as though everyone in that restaurant had been secretly laughing at me behind my back.

I was the stupid dolt who didn't know who Wade Walker was.

I turned and went straight to the door of the restaurant, and walked out into the freezing night air. I was marching as if I had some place to be, seeming to not notice the snow, now coming down a little thicker. I couldn't believe I'd told an Olympic gold medalist his skiing was the fake skiing. I was completely mortified as I stormed down the sidewalk. I heard my name coming from behind me. I kept going, folding my arms as I began to feel my teeth start to chatter a bit.

Wade's hand landed on my shoulder as he spun me around to face him. "Are you crazy...you'll freeze to death." Wade thrust my parka at me.

I was livid, staring at him as I rolled my eyes, yet being too cold to be overly proud. As I began to put on the coat I stopped, realizing it was Wade's name on the damn label that was stitched into the lining. "I'm even wearing your clothing line!"

Wade smiled down at me. "And you look damn good in them."

I blew out a huff of air as I pulled on the jacket, my shoulders now feeling a bit damp from the snow. "I'm such an idiot! You've been laughing your ass off at me this whole time."

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"Well yeah, but not because you didn't know me, I loved the fact that you didn't know who I was," Wade placed his hands on my shoulder. "Come on back inside with me, its freezing cold out here."

"I can't go back in there. I made a complete ass out of myself. You made a complete ass out of me. Christ...the whole damn restaurant was laughing at me behind my back."

"Don't be ridiculous," Wade said, talking to me as if I were hysterical.

"You should've told me," I placed a hand over my face, pressing my cold nose into the palm of my hand. "I want to go home...or back to the lodge. I'll call myself a cab."

"Please don't do that." Wade bit his lip as he looked at me.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but...shit." He dug his keys out of his pocket and wrapped an arm around me, leading me a little farther down the street to a yellow Toyota FJ Cruiser. He unlocked the passenger side and held the door open for me. I scowled at him but climbed in. He shut the door and my teeth began to chatter again as he rounded the front and climbed in next to me. He turned the car on and looked over at me. "I'm going to run back in and let them know I'm taking you back to the lodge. Please don't take off and leave me here while I'm gone."

I tried not to, but I smiled at that last comment, as I was pretty sure it would've been something I'd considered the moment he left the vehicle. "Fine."

He grinned and I looked away. Wade turned the heat on high and got back out, jogging toward the restaurant.

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I felt water run down my cheek, realizing my hair was probably soaking wet. "He's just lucky I'm too terrified of driving in the snow, otherwise I would leave his ass." I knew he was trouble, I thought, still feeling the sting of being lied to. Technically, I guess he hadn't actually lied. It's not like he denied being a big-gay Olympic ski dude. "Because that's like the second or third question I usually ask a guy."

I reached out and adjusted the closest vent so it was hitting my face. The air was beginning to warm and it felt good. I ran a hand through my damp hair in an attempt to shake out some of the water. It occurred to me suddenly, that's what he'd been trying to decide about me earlier today right before he asked me to dinner—whether or not I knew who he was. I didn't get the big deal, really. Why the hell would he care about something as stupid as that? Yes he was a bit of a national hero, of sorts, but it wasn't like he'd created the cure for cancer.

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