Free Tipping the Balance by Christopher Koehler

all.”
     
    “Well, it’s all water under the bridge,” Brad said. “Let’s get inside. It’s hot, and I want to cool off. You’ve got a swimsuit for me?”
     
    Drew patted the duffel bag slung over one shoulder. “Right here.”
     
    They paid their admission and headed inside. Drew wasn’t sure what to think. There’d been that long silence from Brad, and then a bit of awkwardness when Drew had finally called him at work. But that seemed gone now, and Drew was glad. He’d had time to accept that the other man wasn’t gay. He’d thought there was something there, and there wasn’t. Fine. Moving on. He still liked Brad as a friend, and friends could do things together.
     
    Besides, Drew thought as he followed Brad through the turnstile into the locker room, if he were to convince Brad to come work for and with him, there had to be some kind of relationship there, even if it wasn’t the kind he wanted.
     
    “So wait,” Brad threw back over his shoulder, “you said Nick worked for you? On houses?”
     
    “Yeah, I needed some help a few summers ago, and he needed money. It’s not like coaching pays that much, and it’s basically seasonal,” Drew said, pleased at the chance to bait a trap. “So he helped me out, and apparently he’s quite handy. It didn’t take long before we realized if I put him in charge, we got more done. Every summer since, he’s my crew leader. I don’t know what I’m going to do when he graduates and moves on.”
     
    They found a bank of lockers with open doors. Drew handed Brad the swimsuit and towel he’d brought for him.
     
    “That’s so cool!” Brad said. He held the suit up. It was volleyball-length and made of an iridescent purple fabric.
     
    “Yeah, it really has been. I’ve gotten to work with my best friend, and we’ve stayed friends,” Drew said.
     
    “No, I mean the suit, but do I want to know why you’ve got clothing in a size that will never fit you?” Brad said.
     
    “I don’t know, do you?” Drew said coyly.
     
    Brad looked pained. “I asked, didn’t I?”
     
    Drew laughed, trying not to read too much into it. “I’ve got a hot tub and a wide circle of acquaintances. People crash at my place after going to the clubs or after parties, things get left behind. See? Perfectly tame.”
     
    “Glad to hear it,” Brad said, unbuttoning his shirt.
     
    Drew looked away quickly. There was no way he could risk looking. He’d brought a square-cut Speedo, and he’d be unable to hide the tumescence that would inevitably result from watching Brad strip. But he was freakishly aware that the subject of his fantasies was taking off his clothes just a few feet away. He turned slightly away from Brad, just in case, the same old story of the gay man in a straight man’s locker room.
     
    “I didn’t know you were in construction,” Brad continued as he changed.
     
    “I just kind of stumbled into it, really. I started flipping houses on the side not long after I got into real estate. It seemed like a natural progression,” Drew explained, “and it turned out that I really liked it. Maybe even more than real estate, if you want to know the truth.”
     
    “That’s cool,” Brad said.
     
    “It’s nerve-wracking. I’ve got a major opportunity coming up, one that might allow me to move more into renovation, but without Nick there, I’m really not sure how it’s going to work,” Drew said, his mind full of everything he wasn’t telling Brad. But springing, “Hey, wanna come work for me?” on Brad seemed a little sudden. Drew knew he had to work his way around to it, build a case and pique Brad’s interest, then spring it on him.
     
    “Hey, Drew?”
     
    Drew looked up. “Yeah? Ouch!”
     
    “Surprise!”
     
    “You just whipped me with a towel.”
     
    “Uh-huh,” Brad laughed. He had a huge shit-eating grin.
     
    “So that’s how it’s going to be,” Drew said, nodding slowly. He finally got an eye-full of Brad, whose tree