Bonds of Love

ashaved scalp but his lithe body and scrawny limbs held none ofVic’s bulk. “You gotta be interested in something.”
Zipping up, Matt turned away to wash his hands. “Hisname is Vic—”
“The bus driver?” the aerobics instructor asked. “Youthink you can handle a man like that? He’d bench two of you,easily.”
Bus driver. The words flashed in Matt’s mindand hope swelled in him. “Like the city bus?” he asked.
When the instructor nodded, Matt could’ve kissed him.Instead he whooped and raced from the bathroom, water dripping fromhis fingertips, the sink still running behind him.
It took another three weeks, riding every damn busthe city owned, but eventually Matt hit the jackpot. The look onVic’s face when he glanced up from the driver’s seat to see Mattsmiling down at him made the time spent looking disappear. Evenbefore they hooked up, Matt had trouble remembering what his lifehad been like without Vic in it. His days could be divided into“lost” and “found.” Any day he classified as “lost” didn’t matterany longer; the sum of his existence, of his soul, couldonly be totaled now that he had found the man he was meant to have.Vic.
Without a doubt, Matt was one lucky son of abitch.
* * * *
At the gym, Matt hit the locker room first. Heshucked off his sweats to reveal the loose swim trunks thatcomprised his work outfit, and kicked his sneakers into his locker,switching them for a pair of black sandals he wore poolside. Astack of invoices sat on his desk, but they’d have to wait—Mattalways took a quick lap around the pool before he opened it.Swimming relaxed him. Beneath the water, he felt protected andsafe, buffered from the rest of the world, the same way he feltwith Vic. The one time he’d managed to get his lover alone in thepool had been electric, the press of their bodies warming thewater, heated kisses and hot hands and a mouthful of chlorine whenhe gave Vic head while holding his breath underwater. Swim trunksslipped down wet skin so easily, and there’d been no need forlubrication when Vic backed up on Matt’s hard cock.
The only downside had been the gills that sproutedfrom Vic’s neck almost immediately after Matt came. The poor guyhad to spend the day in the pool, swimming in the deep end untilthe gills receded, and Matt canceled all classes that day so no onewould bother him. He wasn’t able to convince his lover to try itagain—Vic stayed in his weight room at the gym, and it took a longtime before he’d even consent to join Matt in the shower. Matt hadto promise to keep his hands to himself, a difficult feat at thebest of times, and downright impossible with Vic naked and latheredmere inches away.
The memory of their coupling that day in the poolburned bright in Matt’s mind as he climbed one of the startingblocks at the shallow end. When the gills had disappeared, Vic’sfingers and feet were pruney from staying so long in the water andafterwards he sat in the sauna for a full hour, trying to warm upfrom the steamy heat. Matt had stood watch outside the sauna door,turning every so often to peek through the steamed window at hisnude lover, sprawled across the wooden bench, eyes shut. Only thefear of giving Vic another stupid ability kept him from rushing inthere to ravish the man. Those damn powers…
As if he could leave that thought behind, Matt doveinto the pool. The water parted to swallow him whole. With strongstrokes, he pulled himself through the water, hard and fast,crossing the length in record time. When he hit the far end, hepushed off from the wall and splashed into the water with a fiercebackstroke to retrace his wake. Another lap, two, and he gasped forbreath as he clambered out among the starting blocks. His heartpumped in his chest, his blood raced through his body,invigorating, strengthening. His mind buzzed, alive.
Snatching a towel off the wall, Matt rubbed his curlsdry and dripped as he ducked into his office. A glance at the clockabove his desk told him he had ten minutes before he’d have to openthe pool. He sank into his chair, a plastic thing that creakedbeneath his weight, and began to leaf through the papers on hisdesk. Invoices, a reminder from the gym that no patron should walkaround the place barefoot, a leave request for next Friday from oneof the girls who worked for him, a handful of phone messages fromreporters he didn’t know and wouldn’t bother to call back.
But the last message stopped him. Gordon, itread in Roxie’s flowing script. Under that, the gym receptionisthad written, Jordan? Something like that. A local numberfollowed, and the message read, Says he’s not a reporter. Yeah,right.
He crumpled the paper in damp hands, anxious for noreal reason at all. Jordan was a common name, right? Could beanyone, either gender, anyone at all.
But it’s a guy. Matt reread the message.She thought he said Gordon first. God, Jordan?
As common as the name might be, the only person Matthad ever known with it was the first guy he hooked up with, back inhigh school. Jordan Dubrowski, on the track team. Or rather, whojoined the track team when he found he could outrace thewind.
A power that came from Matt.
Fuck.
* * * *
Matt headed for the reception desk at the front ofthe gym. Maybe Roxie would remember the call. He burst into thereception area, the question already escaping his lips. “Roxie,this message—”
The words dried up as Matt realized Roxie was on thephone. She shot him a withering look, pale blue eyes stern behindher thick glasses. “Sorry,” he mouthed. A man leaned against theother side of the reception desk, waiting for a chance to talk withRoxie, as well. Matt flashed him a grin and leaned against the wallto wait his turn.
Into the phone, Roxie muttered, “Thanks.” Then sheslammed the receiver down, a bit harder than Matt thoughtnecessary. Turning to the waiting gentleman, she snapped, “Nope.Not here.”
Matt pushed away from the wall. “Who’re you lookingfor?”
“No one,” Roxie replied. Her icy tone warned himagainst something, but what? The look