Volley

Chapter 1

Roux “Ruby” Kipler

It’s beautiful. The ocean and the islands. The sun can be so blinding that I think my sunglasses are going to become a permanent part of my face since I feel like I never take them off, but it really is beautiful.

Hot without being suffocating, although it sounds like the guys disagree. I don’t find it miserable. I don’t mind the humidity at all. There’s almost always a breeze. Even a hot breeze is a breeze, and it’s rarely hot when the yacht is moving.

This is the second summer I’m joining my brother and his gay sports friends on this boat, though calling it a boat seems a little lame and doesn’t at all encompass this place. It’s decadent all the way around, like sailing around the ocean on a spa resort.

There are steam rooms, arctic rooms, a ridiculous gym, a wall-to-wall pool that’s called something beginning with an H. Honestly, if you can think of something off-the-wall luxurious, this yacht has it.

I’m not expecting anything less from a bunch of rich athletes. This is their yearly tradition. Sometime in June, they hop aboard the Opulence and take a two-to-three-week cruise around the south of the US, stopping in ports and islands and snorkeling.

Honestly, I’m excited to be aboard again. They’re all really kind.

This is kind of a special trip, extra long with extra stops. My brother is retiring from hockey this year and graduating to being a house boyfriend to his man Noah Kain, also a pro hockey player. It’s been retirement themed since we boarded two weeks ago.

I smile, leaning back in my chair and looking out over the ocean. We’re coming into the port of Isle of Kala. It’s not a big enough port to support a cruise ship, but an enormous yacht? Just barely.

A knock on my door has me taking a deep breath. Either it’s Gabe and I need to find the courage to tell him to go away—politely, of course—or it’s my brother, which makes me nervous for another reason entirely.

I’m getting ready to ask for help. Again.

Okay, not help, exactly. I’m exaggerating a little bit. I don’t need rescuing. Clearly, he’s already done that. I’m on the yacht, aren’t I? I don’t need rescuing this year. No abusive boyfriends to run away from.

Still... I feel like I run to my brother for everything, and like the good guy he is, he’s there in an instant. Last summer, he had the yacht make an extra stop in Southern California to pick me up. He helped—and paid—for me to transfer schools. When I didn’t feel comfortable being alone on an island with the guy who’d invited me, I called, and he came to spend the week with us. Last year, I stayed with him all summer. Right up until he had to go back to hockey, and I had to go back to school.

Someday, I’m going to show him how much I appreciate him. In the meantime, I need help again.

I peek out the peephole and release a breath. Not Gabe. I open the door, and my brother smiles. I’ve been told many times that I look like Lix. Only I’m younger, which apparently is very evident. Last summer, I heard a few guys on the yacht referring to me as the “younger Lix,” which was kind of amusing. Some people might be offended to live in their brother’s shadow, but I’m not in the least. I know how great my brother is. If I can be half as good a guy as him, I’ll consider that a success.

“Hey,” he says, handing me a plate of biscuits. “I know you probably had breakfast, but I scored these on the way down and you know I’m slightly obsessed with them.”

“Slightly.” I snort. “Right.”

Lix follows me into my room, letting the door shut behind him. Like a hotel, the doors shut hard, and we flinch when it slams.

We bypass the small seating area in the cabin and step out onto the balcony. I’m not sure why he gave me the upgraded room since he paid for it. I know the room he shares with Noah doesn’t have the Juliet balcony like this one does because I’ve been inside it.

Just another way my brother takes care of me—spoiling me, like he’s been doing all summer.

He joins me at the table on the balcony, and we each take a biscuit. Lix isn’t wrong. These are baked with drugs or something. They’re just biscuits, but for some reason, they’re so damn good. I practically moan every time I take a bite.

“We’re going to be arriving at Kala in a few hours,” Lix says.

My heart jumps, but I nod. “Yep.”

“You sure you want to stay?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling. I’m going for confidence. Hopefully, I pull it off. 

“You have a few days to think about it while we remain at the dock,” he says. “If you’d like to reconsider.”

I sigh. “I’ll be okay. I need this.”

Most people would hear something different when I say that. They’d hear “I want to party all summer on someone else’s credit card.” Or “I want to live my sluttiest life while I’m young and single and hot.” They hear lots of things, and I’m not even going to pretend that they’d hear it for unrealistic reasons.

I have a lot of reasons to stay, though. I’m not going to pretend it’s not a little selfish because my brother is paying for my stay with his credit card on file. Yes, I often feel like I’m taking advantage of him. I heard someone say that it’s more than $11,000 a week for a room on the Opulence. And yeah, holy fuck. He bought two rooms, one of which is for me.

And now he’s paying for me to stay on the Isle of Kala for almost six weeks.

“I need a favor. Just one more,” I promise.

“You can ask for as many favors as you need,” he counters.

“There needs to come a time when you tell me to figure my shit out on my own,” I argue.

He laughs. “Not going to happen, Roux. What do you need?”

I take another bite of biscuit with a huff. When I’m done chewing and have swallowed, I answer. “I want to transfer schools. Again.”

Lix nods. “Where to?”

“Rainbow Dorset University.”

He stops chewing and looks at me with his eyebrows knitted together. “That’s a real place?”

I laugh. “Yeah. It’s like the capital of pride. The entire campus is decked out in LGBTQIA+ pride. It’s not just an inclusive campus. It’s a home base.”

“I thought Longwood was inclusive,” he says with a frown. “Did something happen?”

“No, no.” I shake my head. “Nothing like that. It’s just…” I hate talking about this. “It’s not far enough away from Marley. I feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder.”

I’d started attending Marley Coast University right out of high school because it was on the southern coast of California. I thought, you know, education and fun on the beach. Instead, I met Trevor McAllister.

As it turned out, that wasn’t even his name. What I thought was love turned out to be an abusive relationship—physically, mentally, sexually, and emotionally. He was controlling, and… yeah. I’m still not sure how I found the strength and courage to end it, but I managed to right before the school year ended.

No, wait… That’s not even true. He broke up with me because I wasn’t… What had he said? He didn’t think I loved him enough?

But he didn’t leave me alone. He kept messaging me and gaslighting me, making promises that he’d never hurt me again. Telling me how much he loved and missed me and didn’t want to live without me. Yes, that was a subtly veiled threat to kill himself all in an attempt to manipulate me.

I broke down and called Lix last summer, and he’d picked me up on the Opulence. I didn’t tell him about Trevor then. It wasn’t until we went back to his house in the weeks following that I found the courage to tell him and ask him to help me transfer out of Marley Coast.

Since then, Lix told me Trevor had been “neutralized,” though I don’t know what that means. He didn’t even know what that meant either, but he trusted it.

Still, even with this knowledge, I can’t help the way my hair stands on end. I’m always looking over my shoulder, waiting for Trevor to come out of the woodwork. Or for him to message me again. For him to show up on campus, right outside my classroom, waiting for me.

Longwood U is only an hour inland from Marley Coast, and the distance is far too close for me to rest easily.

Lix wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. It’s only a little awkward in the chairs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Yes, of course I’ll help you transfer.”

“I won’t ask again,” I promise. “I’m sure it’s going to look sus that I’ve transferred twice in two years, so I’m not even sure they’ll take me.”

“They’ll take you.”

“Don’t do something ridiculous like bribing them,” I warn.

He laughs. “I won’t. I think you can get in on your own. I’ve seen your grades, and you’re getting a lot of attention for your soccer skills. Let’s do some research on this school and make a strong case about why you want to transfer.”

“I have. I think their soccer program is stronger. I like that it’s… Inclusive isn’t a strong enough word, but there’s that. They have a program that I’m interested in that’s not offered at Longwood. And… It’s far away from my abuser. I’m not necessarily willing to put that into my entrance essay, but…” I shrug.

“Let’s focus on soccer, the program, and the environment,” Lix agrees. “Have you started the paperwork?”

Sighing, I nod. “Yeah.” I slide my chair back so I can reach my tablet inside the door and bring up the application I already have open. “I have both official transcripts in my bag, but I have their PDF copies attached. There’s also a recommendation from my coach at Longwood for my transfer.”

Lix smiles. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“It took me a couple months to understand why I was uncomfortable there and always aware of everyone around me. I figured it out one day after I nearly had a heart attack when someone who looked like Trevor walked across the soccer pitch.”

He squeezes my forearm. “I didn’t know you were still struggling. Have you been talking to a therapist?”

I bow my head. “Not as regularly as I should,” I admit. “But I have one that I talk to remotely, and she’s really good about working me in when I call.”

“I’m not pushing you or telling you what to do. No need to rebel. But I’d like you to consider talking to her a little more regularly.”

“I will,” I agree, nodding. “After this summer, I guess.”

“There are technology huts or whatever on Kala. You can start while there,” Lix says. “Not that I’m pushing.”

I laugh. “Noted. I’ll consider it.”

“Good. Back to your transfer. Is it ready to submit?”

“Will you look it over?” I ask, sliding my tablet toward him. “The essay is up in the background too. I didn’t mention Trevor.”

Lix doesn’t comment as he picks up the tablet. His smile says enough though. He’s amused that I waited for him before submitting it. This will make college application number nine that I haven’t submitted without Lix looking it over first. Even though he was busy with hockey my senior year of high school, we spent a lot of time on the phone together while I filled out college applications, and he looked over every single one.

I feel like maybe I’m getting better at it since Lix doesn’t correct or adjust something for quite a while. He doesn’t do anything to my essay at all.

“You have a great GPA,” he comments as he hands it back to me. “I can pay for the application fee. How’s your bank account?”

Small. “It’s fine. I can do this one.”

“You sure?”

I roll my eyes. “I haven’t spent anything in the last couple weeks, and I won’t be until summer’s over. It’s fine. But… I might consider a work study if I qualify.”

“How do you think you’ll have time for that, school, and soccer?” he asks.

I chew my lip as I look out over the water. “I don’t know, but I practically live off you already. I think I need to grow up sometime.”

“You can grow up after you graduate and begin your career,” Lix says. “I enjoy being able to help you with school, Roux. I don’t want you to begin your adult life with massive debt.”

Not gonna lie, I don’t want that either. “You’re going to let me buy you a house or something someday,” I mutter.

“Sure,” Lix says, though I know he’s only agreeing to humor me. He takes the tablet back and changes out the credit card information. “Ready to submit?”

I take a breath and nod. “Yeah.”

Lix presses the submit button, and we watch the little circle as the site processes the information. There’s a series of confirmations, credit card entries, and finally contact information, which is filled out with Lix as primary since I’ll be on Kala and unable to receive phone calls.

Then it’s done. 

The message on the screen reads:

[Thank you for your application to Rainbow Dorset University. We will be in touch with a decision on your enrollment. Go proudly into the world!

I grin.

“I already like this school,” Lix says.

“You should check out their website. It’s incredible. I wish I’d stumbled upon them right away when I was looking for colleges in high school. They need better advertising.”

Lix pokes around their website for a while as I munch on another biscuit and watch the ocean and the clear sky with the occasional wispy white cloud.

“Where’s Noah?” I ask.

“Hanging with Azure and Max,” he answers. “I think they were going to play checkers or chess or something.”

“Those are both two-person board games,” I point out.

“You’ve met Max. Even with his new calm personality, he can make anything into a three-person event.”

Max Latham, who plays for the Philadelphia Hatters, is a crazy dude. Well, he was a crazy dude. Just before I joined my brother aboard the Opulence last year, he’d been walking around naked for several days because he’d fallen asleep naked and his dick was sunburned. He made headlines last summer after the cruise, and not in the most favorable way. I suppose being the cum-covered poster boy for the St. Andrew’s Cross is not the look the NHL is going for. As a result, he disappeared for the rest of summer and returned with a boyfriend who seems to smooth out all his rough edges.

He’s quieter now. Still quick to smile and laugh, but he’s not ready to walk around naked with his dick sunburned. 

I don’t know him well, but after observing him from summer to summer, I can see that the biggest difference is that Max now looks settled. He seems comfortable in his skin. I’m not even sure I know what I’m talking about, but that’s the impression I get.

But Lix is right. He can turn anything into a three-person event. I think he enjoys the challenge. “We should see if he can turn it into a five-person event,” I say.

“I have a feeling he’s going to use painter’s tape to cover the heli-pad with a life-sized chess board, and we’re all going to be in his game,” Lix says.

I grin. “Sounds to me like this is already underway.”

He turns his blue eyes on me. “I’m a rook for the skins team.”

I laugh.