I’d never felt this acutely alive as we sped down the highway on Chase’s motorbike. My hair whipped in the wind as I held onto him for dear life.

At first, I’d tried to grip the bottom of the seat but he stopped and insisted I wrap my arms around his waist. When we arrived at our destination, I almost didn’t want to let him go.

Chase unchained a large door and let us into part of an old industrial building that had been turned into a massive loft apartment.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, casually dumping his helmet and keys onto a wooden table.

He walked to the refrigerator, grabbed two ice-cold beers, and offered me one without thinking.

“The state of California has set the legal drinking age at twenty-one years of age,” I said as if quoting a law book.

He looked like he was about to apologize, when I added, “Just kidding!”

I tapped his bottle with mine and took a deep swig. That’s when I noticed the shapes covered by tarp in the back of the large space.

“Those better not be department store mannequins under there,” I said. “I have an irrational fear of lifelike dolls.”

“This is why I brought you here, actually,” Chase said. “I wanted to show you my sculptures.”

He switched on two overhead lamps and carefully removed the plastic sheets. I sucked in a breath when I saw what was hiding beneath.

Chase had an incredible eye for beauty and skill to match. His sculptures were all of animals chiseled into a single piece of wood.

“They’re absolutely stunning,” I said, running my fingers over the lacquered grain.

“I don’t usually show my work to people,” he said, blushing at the compliment. “My family thinks that art should remain a hobby.”

“Is that why you’re working at the hotel, instead of selling these masterpieces?” I asked, looking at him as if for the first time.

“No, my parents own the resort and three others.”

“What?!”

“Dude, how else do you think I can afford a place like this?”

My mind took a moment to wrap itself around the fact that Chase was... rich! As if on cue, he pulled something out of his pocket that I’d never seen up close before.

It was the iPhone! Holy fuck!

Steve Jobs had presented the device earlier that year and everyone had lost their mind. The product was simply revolutionary and only became available a few weeks ago.

Chase casually held up the five hundred dollar glitterati accessory and took a picture of me standing next to his sculpture of a tiger, arguably his best piece.

“You can send it to your email,” he said, handing me the phone, so I could play with it.

I’d never met anyone like Chase before. He was smart, talented, and had a great if somewhat dark sense of humour.

My friends always talked about their crushes and it was pretty obvious that I was now developing one too.

And I was having so much fun!

We drank beer, chatted about everything and nothing, and watched the latest episode of “Desperate Housewives”!

When my phone rang, I almost felt embarrassed to pull the old Nokia out of my pocket.

“Hey, dickwad!” Duncan whispered. “I just told your Dad that you’re asleep already, so you’d better be out getting laid.”

“Duncan!” I said, my face going red.

“If you tell me who it is, I’ll cover for you every night,” he said.

“I’m hanging up now,” I said and pressed the red button.

“Everything OK?” Chase asked, dropping himself into a spot right next to me.

I was suddenly very aware of how close he was, and in that moment I desperately wanted to kiss him.

“Can you bring me back to the hotel?” I asked, tearing my gaze away from his beautiful eyes.

When I carefully snuck into my room, Duncan was already sleeping... or so I thought.

The moment I crawled into bed, he whispered, “Welcome back, loverboy.”

“Whatever,” I said, turning around.

“Do you have nothing to tell?”

“I just hung out with my friend Chase,” I said, wanting to close this topic so I could sleep.

“The bartender at the pool?” he asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” I answered, wanting to add that he was so much more than that.

“Are you two fucking?” Duncan breathed.

“What?! No!” I whipped around to face him in the dark.

“Too bad, he’s a good-looking guy.”

My head started to spin, what did Duncan know?

“I found your dude-love book, ‘Call You My Name’ or whatever, hidden in your suitcase.”

“What the fuck, Duncan!” I hissed.

“It’s OK to be gay, you know,” he said calmly.

I let out a breath I never knew I was holding. Never in a million years would I have thought that Duncan would be so easy about this.

“Thanks,” I said, aware that I was holding back tears. “I really, really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, fuck face,” he replied.

We both laughed, despite the gravitas of the moment.

I had a lukewarm relationship with my stepbrother at best, but his support meant more than he could ever know.

“Do you like him?” Duncan asked.

“I think so,” I breathed.

“Then maybe you should tell him, what do you have to lose?”

Was he right? Should just I take a leap of faith?