Naked Hero - The Journey Away

at to keep Scott in his life as a prominent feature. And now the fantasy was dashed! Everything was blown! He’d been rejected by his idol – a man who obviously wasn’t quite as liberal minded as Lewis had thought.
    But Lewis didn’t dwell on this for long. He found a compartment and forced it all in there: the idol, the rejection and the fantasy that was lost. There were more important things to be faced that were starkly real – like the match tonight in the Rod Laver Arena, and the fact that Lee Porter was back in Melbourne. They’d spoken half an hour ago when Lee had arrived, and agreed to meet at the house before going to the match. What would happen after that had been tactfully avoided, although there’d been enough innuendo to make it blatantly obvious that as long as Lewis wasn’t too exhausted then Lee would happily tire him out further till he was in that happy state.
    It was an enticing prospect. And one that could be embraced without guilt interfering, as might have been the case before the news he’d just received. Lewis had never felt comfortable with having two men in his life as it was his nature to want only the one. Scott had taken his position. And while Lewis didn’t like it, perhaps it was for the best. An idol belongs on a pedestal and in silly teenage dreams. Whereas men like Lee Porter belonged in your bed... at least until the perfect man came along and banished all others for ever more. Another silly fantasy perhaps – but a boy’s allowed to dream.

Chapter 3 8
    The photographers lurking at the gate had no idea who Lee was – not yet at any rate! But they still took some shots as he got out the cab which pulled up outside the house where Lewis and his team were residing. They’d been hoping for Scott Taylor, but this one would do – any man would do when it came to Macleod. The snapping intensified when they got a good look at him, which Lee craftily allowed without being too obvious. The photographers were impressed. This could hardly be described as ‘any man’ as he had a devilish good look, a confident swagger, and some very classy clothing that he carried well on his hunky frame. No, this wasn’t any ordinary man - if anything he was verging on the perfect.
    Lee hoped so! He had certainly taken pains to perfect his current look, spending much of the afternoon searching out the clothes he now wore: a silver-grey summer suit with matching grey shoes, and a tailored white shirt that was open at the neck and just tight enough to hint at the swell of his pecs. Pleased with his choices and all the attention, he made his way to the door where he rang the bell, reminding himself once again that Lewis Macleod wasn’t the only one with a game to play this evening.
    “You must be Lee, come in,” said Fiona who answered a few moments later. Then spotting the small group of photographers at the gate, she added, “Heavens! Will those people never leave us in peace? We had a week without them, but they’re back in force now. Sorry.”
    “It’s no bother, really,” assured Lee as he entered the house, Fiona quickly closing the door behind him.
    Some pleasantries were made regarding the journey and the hotel, Fiona apologising that she couldn’t get Lee into the Langham which was full of tennis players and their entourages. Lee said everything was fine, which indeed it was. Then they moved into the living area where Jim was busy analysing a replay of Edwin Roberts’s third round match.
    “Jim ! For goodness sake!” Fiona chided. “Will you turn that thing off for a minute and come and say hello to Lee.”
    Jim Murdoch had been bracing himself for this, and now the moment was here. He paused the recording before rising from his chair to meet Lee Porter at last. And first impressions weren’t too bad – he was a lot less intimidating than Jim had feared. Having his body decently covered with a full suit of clothing certainly helped to make him more palatable!
    “Hello. I’m Jim ... Jim Murdoch. It’s good to meet you at last. I wanted to say thanks for what you did last week. We’d be here sightseeing at the moment otherwise.”
    “It was nothing,” said Lee, shaking the offered hand. “How are you? Looking forward to tonight?”
    “Oh, aye!” harped Jim, happy to keep the conversation to tennis. “It’ll be the first time for all of us in the Rod Laver Arena – should be quite a show, what with an Aussie playing.”
    “No repeats of last week, I