by Emma Lyon
“Score one for your mom, but come on. First time with tongue.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Also Billy Shire, fourteen this time. On the couch in his parents’ basement.”
Zach threw me a skeptical look. “Was there really only one other gay kid you knew growing up?”
I shrugged. “I liked the way Billy Shire looked in his jeans. We had a brief fling until his parents had to move, tried the long distance thing but it never worked out. How about you?”
It didn’t take him long to think about it. “Alonso Ruiz, in the gym locker room after school. Also damn fine in jeans, I might add.” He said it a bit dreamily, and I told myself it was ridiculous to be jealous of a teenage kiss. “I was fifteen, he was a year older. At the time he maintained he was straight, but he came out the following year and now I think he’s married to a guy.”
“Were you always out?” After kissing Billy the first time, I’d never wavered in my preferences, and my mom had taken that in stride. My dad, too, to his credit, though we didn’t typically talk about my personal life. When we did talk, it was all about my coursework and career aspirations. Or rather, my father’s career aspirations for me.
Zach took a moment to answer. “Sort of? I thought I was, mostly because it wasn’t something I ever hid or lied about, but I didn’t offer up the information, either. School is still a treacherous place for a gay kid.” Zach angled his eyes at me. “I bet you went to some fancy private school.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Public school all the way. My mom used to be a teacher. Probably that and who my father was gave some protection from the usual bullying.” Traffic slowed again. At this rate, the trip would take hours, but I found I didn’t mind so much. “Okay, next question.”
Zach turned back to the magazine. “All right, here’s another big one. What’s one thing no one knows about you?”
“Hm,” I said, thinking, then smiled, remembering “When I was twelve, I shoplifted a pack of gum from a 7-Eleven on a dare.” At Zach’s silence, I glanced over. “What?”
“I can’t believe I’m riding in a car with a juvenile delinquent.”
I snorted. “I couldn’t even complete the dare. I felt so guilty I ran back in and gave the gum back to the cashier.”
“A criminal with a conscience. I like it. Next question—”
“Hey,” I broke in. “What about you?”
Zach shook his head slowly. “I can’t compete with that. I mean, you have the whole ‘beautiful stranger with a mysterious criminal past’ thing. What do I have to offer?”
I was sure I flushed at beautiful. “You still have to answer.”
“All right.” Zach braced his elbow on the window ledge and rested his chin on the back of his hand. “I’m afraid of spiders.”
I scoffed. “Lots of people are afraid of spiders.”
“It’s still something no one else knows about me. My sisters would have a field day if I admitted such weakness. I’m counting on you to take it to the grave.”
“I’m sure they’d understand.”
Zach turned to me with a serious expression. “Lane, you have no idea what older sisters are capable of. Do you know how many spiders I would have found in my bed growing up if they knew? I wouldn’t put it past them to find a way to do it now, either.”
“Then I promise never to tell.”
“Thank you,” Zach said solemnly. Turning back to the magazine, he trailed the tip of his pen down the page. “Ah, here’s a good one.” His voice was still light, but with something else underlying it. “If you could ask your partner anything, and they had to answer truthfully, what would it be?”
Traffic had slowed further the closer we got to the bay bridge, and I welcomed the distraction of navigating it. This was a question that could go spectacularly badly. “You first.”
“All right.” Zach paused for so long that I wondered if he was going to ask. “When you kissed me in the car before Bryce’s wedding, was that real or fake?”
I flexed my hands on the steering wheel. Glancing sidelong at Zach, I saw he was looking down at the magazine and not at me, which I took to mean that the answer meant something to him. “I was trying to get back at you for being such a shameless flirt, but I also wanted to kiss you. So, I’d say it was real.”
I waited a moment, then chanced another look, afraid that it hadn’t been the answer Zach wanted. But he just said, “Good to know.”
I cleared my throat. “My turn.” I didn’t have to think about what to ask, because I’d been wanting to know since the wedding. “That barbeque place you took me to. Had you ever taken another date there?”
Zach’s eyes flicked over, but mine were back on the road, even though we’d stopped with traffic. I still felt the weight of his gaze on me. “No.”
I relaxed, realizing that the answer had meant something to me, too. “Okay.”
Silence filled the car, but it wasn’t a bad silence, more like an awareness that zinged over my skin.
This is still a terrible idea, I told myself firmly, but I was finding it harder to convince myself of that.
12
Zach
When Lane pulled into the drive leading down to a huge brick and clapboard colonial, with the sparkle of water laid out expansively behind it and a large pool between the house and the Chesapeake Bay, I told myself that of course Lane’s family would have a vacation home that looked like this.
I’d spent enough summers on Long Island not to be wowed by extravagant beach houses, but this one screamed old, entrenched money.
“Nice place,” I commented, after Lane had parked the SUV in a side spot next to the garage and we’d gotten out. It was hot, of course, but with the breeze coming off the water, it felt a good ten degrees cooler than the city.
“It was my grandmother’s,” Lane said. “She grew up here, actually.”
“Salt of the earth?”
“Salt of the sea, more like. Her father owned a shipbuilding company. If we make it to the Maritime Museum, they have a blurb about him in one of the displays.”
“Oh, we are definitely going to the Maritime Museum,” I said, only a little kidding.
I opened the back of the SUV to pull out my bag. Lane had already retrieved his. Instead of going around to the front, Lane punched a code into the garage door, which opened onto two empty bays. “Looks like we’re the first to arrive.”
When I followed him in, the coolness of the garage was a shock after the heat. At the far end was a door leading into a mudroom, which in turn transitioned into a large farmhouse-style kitchen that looked like it had been recently renovated.
“I can show you around once we put our stuff away,” Lane said. He crossed to a nook off the kitchen revealing a set of back stairs, and I followed him up the stairs to a hallway with wide refinished wooden floor planks that looked original to the house. The middle of the hallway opened up to the front foyer, which Lane passed to continue down the hall before stopping in front of the last door on the left.
“This is my room.” He stopped abruptly. “Um.”
“What is it?” I asked at the expression on his face.
“There are three bedrooms up here, including mine and my brother’s, and my parents room is downstairs, but one of the bedrooms up here was converted into an office.” I waited patiently. “So, uh, I guess I didn’t even think about it, but we’ll have to share a room.”
“Oh.” I had, in fact, assumed we’d be sharing a room. “Is that a problem?”
“I mean….” Lane eyed me uncertainly. “Is it a problem for you?”
“Do you only have a twin bed or something?”
“It’s a queen.”
“Are you a covers hog?”
“Um, not that I know of.”
I grinned. “Relax, Lane. I can sleep on the floor if you’re not comfortable sharing. Just throw me some pillows or something.”
“You can’t sleep on the floor.”
“Then why
don’t you let us in and we can see what we’re working with?”
With a sigh, Lane opened the door onto a large, well-lit room with large windows overlooking the bay. The promised queen bed was covered with a brightly patterned quilt and positioned to best capture the view. The floors were the same refinished originals as what was in the hall, and to the right was a door that looked like it might lead to an en suite.
There was even room for a love seat underneath one of the windows. I set my bag on it and dropped down next to it. “See, there’s a couch.”
“There’s no way you can fit on that.” Lane set his bag on the floor and sat down on the bed. He gazed at me uncertainly. “Are you really all right with this?”
“Honestly? I’m fine with whatever you’re comfortable with. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, or on a pullout somewhere if your parents have one. Or in the office on an air mattress. If you have one.”
Since I was somewhat responsible for the situation, I figured the least I could do was be accommodating. Of course, the part of me that had suggested this crazy idea in the first place was more than happy to share a bed with Lane.
Lane scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m being ridiculous. I don’t mind sharing the bed. I just thought you might not want to.”
Since the bed dilemma seemed to be tying him up in knots, I took a different tack. “Why don’t we go for a swim in the pool and figure this out later?”
“Yes,” Lane said, with obvious relief. “Let’s do that.”
By the time I came out of the bathroom after changing into my swim trunks, Lane had already gone downstairs. I slipped into some flip flops, went down the main stairway, and found a set of French doors in the living room leading out onto the back patio and pool.
Lane had already jumped in, his blond hair wet and slicked back on his skull. Lane in just a pair of swim trunks was breathtaking, and I lingered over the expanse of golden skin just a shade lighter than his hair. He seemed a bit looser than he’d been during the whole bed discussion, but it would be hard not to relax with the blue sky above, chlorine thick in the air, and a view of the bay sparkling serenely across a tract of surreally perfect green grass.
I eased in more gradually, and sat on the edge of the pool before lowering into the water. Since Lane had already done it, I dunked under and came up sputtering from the shock of it.
Across the pool, Lane grinned at me. “Colder than you thought?”
I dunked under again, acclimating to the chill, then swam over to him. He was treading water with his back to the edge, elbows braced behind him.
Lane watched me swim closer, chin tilting up as I neared. Drops of water clung to his hair and lips, the afternoon sun pulling gold highlights from his hair, and I couldn’t look away.
I wanted to kiss you. Since the drive here, Lane’s words had fluttered in my chest like crazed butterflies. I felt like a pre-teen with my first crush, dangerously close to upending my resolution to keep this as professional as Lane seemed to want. Which I knew I should want as well.
Still, when Lane’s lips parted, my eyes went unerringly to them, and I wondered if I could possibly get away with kissing him.
Before I could find out, a voice broke in. “If you’re going to PDA, let me know so I don’t have to watch.”
Lane jerked his head back and I grabbed the edge of the pool next to his elbow as a younger version of Lane in sunglasses and swim trunks, carrying a towel and a bottle of water, walked up to the edge of the pool.
The kid placed the towel and water behind him and sat down on the edge to put his feet in the water.
“Ethan,” Lane said, sounding breathless. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Mom’s in the kitchen putting away groceries.” Ethan pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head, revealing blue eyes instead of Lane’s grey. They were otherwise remarkably alike, with the same blond hair and lanky frame, though Ethan was a bit softer, a bit prettier. “Dad’s not coming until Sunday.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought Lane relaxed a bit at that. Then I found myself pinned by Ethan’s attention. “Who are you?”
“Jesus, Ethan,” Lane muttered, as I said, “Zach.”
Ethan blinked, then turned to his brother. “Who the fuck is this guy?”
“He just told you. Zach, this rude little shit is my brother. Zach is my….”
“Boyfriend,” I supplied.
Ethan cocked his head and looked me over. “Really.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really.”
“Huh.” I couldn’t get a read on his assessment. Lane’s little brother had a good poker face. “Try to resist mauling my brother where I can see it.” He pulled himself back up to his feet, dripping water on the pool edge. “I don’t need my innocent eyes sullied just because you two are horny.”
Lane snorted. “Innocent. Right.”
Ethan flipped him off before retreating to one of the lounge chairs around the pool with his towel and water and magazine, and proceeded to ignore us.
“I like him,” I decided.
Lane said, a bit wryly, “Most people do.”
My brows furrowed at his expression. Ethan was cute but Lane was a million times hotter than his brother. “Not like that. But I can think of a guaranteed way to piss him off.”
“Yeah?” Lane said curiously, face tilted up.
I wondered if I was being hopelessly transparent, but decided I didn’t care. Moving slowly enough that Lane could stop me if he wanted to, I angled my mouth down to his.
13
Lane
Zach’s lips were still cool from the water, but his tongue when it snuck past my lips was warm and wet. The feel of it against my own sent a shockwave of arousal through me. The kiss in the car before the wedding had been chaste compared to this. God, what Zach could do with his tongue. Thinking about what else Zach could probably do with his tongue had me hard in two seconds flat.
He leaned in, angling his mouth to kiss me deeper until the edge of the pool pressed into my back, and—fuck, that was definitely Zach’s very hard, very unmistakable erection pushing up against mine.
A sound escaped me that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.
Sunlight and chlorine overloaded my senses, along with Zach’s clean, sun-warmed skin. He seemed fully aware yet unconcerned that our dicks were snuggled up against each other, though by the rasp of his breath, he was just as affected by it as I was.
At some point I’d moved my hands to Zach’s arms to clutch at those firm biceps, and when he put his hand behind my head to hold my mouth steady under his, muscles bunched under my fingers.
I felt the tug of teeth on my bottom lip, then Zach teased the corner of my lips as if he couldn’t stay away. Heart slamming in my chest, I wondered how long I’d have to stay in the water before I could get out without embarrassing myself.
From the pool deck, I heard Ethan drawl, “Really?”
Laughter shook in my chest. A moment later, Zach’s rumbled through me. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good, with the sun overhead, cool water buoying up my overheated body, the taste of Zach on my lips and tongue.
“Zach, I’m so glad you could join us.”
Zach jerked back at the sound of my mom’s voice. My hands slid from his arms and I craned my head around as she crossed the pool deck in a black one-piece and cover-up, a paperback book in her hand.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hello there,” she said, with just a hint of a tease. Behind her, Ethan snickered. “How was the drive?”
“Fine. Slow.”
Zach’s face was red—either from the sun, from kissing me, or for being caught kissing me by my mother, I didn’t know. I could have told him she wasn’t a prude, and certainly wouldn’t think anything of her twenty-five year-old son kissing what she thought was his boyfriend.
That made me realize I had no idea how old Zach was. Or when his birthday was. I figured he was roughly my own age, but it was probably something I should know about the guy
I was supposedly dating.
“Hi, Mrs. Garrett,” Zach ventured nervously. I’d never seen him off his game before. I had to admit, I was enjoying it. He always seemed so sure of himself that it was nice to see he was as human as the rest of us.
My mom gave him a warm smile. “I told you to call me Jessica.” She sat on the lounge chair next to Ethan and settled into it.
“Ethan said Dad’s not coming until Sunday.” I couldn’t remember the last time my dad had missed being with us for the Fourth, but to be honest, with everything going on with his campaign these days, being around my father was often exhausting. Considering my mom looked more relaxed than I’d seen her in a while, she was probably glad for the break as well.
“There’s an event tomorrow he can’t miss.” I couldn’t detect an edge to her voice, but then she’d had plenty of time to get used to her husband’s political career. At Ethan’s snort and muttered “Sure,” she threw him a pointed look. “He’ll try to be here as early Sunday as possible.”
Ethan shrugged and went back his magazine. He’d always been more resentful of our dad’s absences from our lives, whereas I had always thought he’d tried his best. But I supposed Ethan had often gotten the shorter end of the stick.
When Zach excused himself to take a shower, I pulled myself out of the pool and stole Ethan’s towel to dry off with. Ignoring his glare, I moved to the lounge chair on the other side of our mom to ward off retaliation.
She peered over the top of her sunglasses at me. “Zach seems nice.”
I groaned inwardly, but I’d known it was coming. After the donor dinner, I’d shot her a quick text to give a heads up that Zach would be here for the weekend, but I’d managed to avoid talking with her in person or by phone. “He is nice,” I replied, because it was true.
“How did you two meet? I forgot to ask him at the dinner.”
“Uh, friend of a friend,” I said, wondering how little I could get away with telling her.