by Leta Blake
“Joel isn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter what you think he is or isn’t. What matters is I hold the purse strings to your future. Your tuition? Your apartment? Wharton? All of that is up to me. My money. My way.”
“Joel isn’t up for negotiation,” Casey said sharply. “I love him.”
“Then un-love him. Because this isn’t happening, Casey. We’ve worked too hard to get where we are as a family for me to watch you get involved with someone who doesn’t have any kind of future in this world. Take my word for it: he’ll be on dope before the end of the year, if he isn’t already. Like my brother Donny. Like my cousin Jon in Pikeville. People like that are all the same.”
“People like what?”
“People like Joel Vreeland.”
“What the actual hell, Dad? Joel isn’t on heroin, and he’s not like Donny or Jon at all. Why are you being such an asshole? It’s Christmas. Can’t you just love me for who I am and rejoice in what makes me happy? For once?”
“Why him? What was wrong with Theo? You should have chased after that boy and begged him to stay with you. He cared about you! And now you’ll never do better than him. Walker Ronson isn’t even close to his league. But no. Instead of doing the smart thing, you let Theo go, so you can rub willies with riffraff.”
Casey’s voice rattled with rage. “Joel is a business owner and an author. He’s smart and funny, and I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember.”
“So long as you’re with him, you won’t have my support, financial or otherwise. I scrambled my way up, and I won’t have you grabbing my ankles to pull me back down. Even having him here tonight was an embarrassment. After we told everyone about Theo last year? How do we explain this step down for you? It’s humiliating.”
“Dad, you need to think very carefully about what you’re saying.”
“No, you need to think. That therapist we pay for? Done. That school? Finished. Degree or no degree.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m serious as a heart attack. If you’re with Joel Vreeland, or someone like him, I won’t provide you with a single dime. Not now. Not ever.”
The light footsteps behind him drew Joel to attention. Courtney’s arm slipped around his waist.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Neither one of them would want you to hear this.”
“Too late.”
“Joel,” she said softly when he tugged free of her and went back into the house.
The steam on the windows and laughter bouncing off the walls along with the ceaseless guitar carols smothered him. He pushed through the room, bumping into people, searching for the place Casey’s mother had taken his coat. Finally finding a pile of them on a counter in a small room off the kitchen, he grabbed his and checked the pockets for his keys. Then he was out the front door with the frigid air slapping his face. The Chevy’s seat was cold on his ass, but the steering wheel took him where he needed to go.
The credit card he’d used too much lately was put to good use again. At the gas station he filled his tank before ducking inside for some cigarettes and other essentials for the upcoming night and morning.
His newly lit cigarette tasted like misery as he pulled the heat into his lungs and exhaled it out the open window while he drove aimlessly down dark country roads with Jonathan Stevens’s threats rattling around between his ears.
He needed to go somewhere safe. Somewhere he knew he was cared for. He barked out a laugh. That sure as hell wasn’t with his own family. Hearing Casey’s dad’s threats reminded him of his own father’s abuse, and, fuck, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. He’d put up with that kind of thing for way too long. He was a grown man and he was done with begging to be loved. He’d never try to convince his father—any father—to love him again. And speaking of love, he needed to forget about loving Casey Stevens. It’d been stupid to think he could have him for even a little while. He pressed on the gas, the night speeding away behind him. He’d always known forever was off the table.
Chapter Twenty-One
Casey groaned in frustration as he pulled into the Vreeland’s parking lot and was forced to admit Joel’s Chevy wasn’t there either. He’d already been to the trailer, and he had no idea where else to look.
He checked his phone again, but there were no missed calls and no new texts from Joel. He scrolled through the fifteen texts he’d sent in the last hour and a half, all some rendition of the same thing: Joel, I’m so sorry you overheard any of that. Let’s talk.
There were some that were more pleading, some that went on about his father being an asshole, and some that were just: Are you okay? Please call me. But Joel hadn’t responded, and Casey completely understood why.
What would he have done back when he was with Theo if he’d ever overheard Theo’s parents saying things like that about him? He’d have been out of there faster than a New York minute. Just imagining it made his stomach curdle with humiliation. He couldn’t blame Joel for doing the same.
He parked in the Vreeland’s lot to brainstorm. What should he do? Where would Joel go? He pulled out his phone again and texted RJ.
Hey, man. What’s Becca’s number?
He left it at that and got out of his car to pace the length of the Christmas tree lot while he waited. The scent of the trees filled his nose, and the cold air made his eyes burn, but it was only two trips down and back before his phone buzzed with RJ’s response.
He gave the number first and then said, Hope things are going well for you and Joel. Will be in NYC in March with Pearl Necklace if you want to hang.
He didn’t bother replying right away, clicking the number RJ had sent and going straight to a voice call. He hoped Joel was with Becca or, if not, that she might have some idea of where he might be. She was obviously his closest friend and Casey’s only shot.
“This must be Casey,” Becca said in lieu of a normal greeting. “RJ texted to ask if it was okay to give you my number,” she explained when he confirmed his identity. “But, sweet cheeks, you just missed him if it’s Joel you’re looking for.”
“Crap.” He climbed back into his SUV, turning on the heat to warm his cold fingers and nose. He’d left in such a hurry he hadn’t bothered looking for his coat or gloves. “How was he? Is he okay?”
“Believe it or not, Joel’s not so fragile that your daddy’s assholery is gonna break him completely. But I’m glad you’re looking for him all the same. I wasn’t sure about you.”
“Do you know where he was going?”
“Why? What do you plan to say or do to make up for what he heard?”
“He heard my father making my life all about him. That’s all he heard. I don’t know what Joel needs, but I’ll say anything, do anything, so long as we’re okay.”
“Wow. Is it his cranky-ass attitude you love best or his weird, crooked smile?”
“All of it.”
“Aw, such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” Becca laughed.
“Has he gone back home or…?”
“Home. He’s not actually avoiding you so much as doing that thing he does. You remember that thing he does, don’t you?”
“The big shove?”
“The big shove,” she agreed. A woman’s voice sounded in the background, and Becca sighed. “Coming, dear.” Sarcasm rolled through her tone. “Gotta go. I’m being summoned.”
“Thanks, Becca. I’ll head over to Joel’s now.”
“Listen, if it’s not going to work out because of the things your dad said, just be honest with yourself and with him now. Don’t drag it out, okay? Make it quick and complete. He’ll live. And you’ll live too. But if you’re going to do this thing? Do it all the way. Because he deserves someone who’ll go all in for him. Who’ll give up everything and everyone to be with him. He’s that good of a guy. Understand?”
“I do.”
“God, Andie, I’m saying bye now. Chill. Bye, Casey. Let’s talk again sometime when life isn’t a drama-rama, and we both don’t ha
ve places to go.”
On the drive back to Joel’s, Casey took his time, lining up his words carefully, trying to guess what Joel would do or say when he got there.
Stepping up to the front porch of the trailer, Casey heard the Gaslight Anthem’s signature grunge guitar and Brian Fallon’s gravelly-voiced lead vocals vibrating against the door. The lyrics to “Get Hurt,” a song represented on Joel’s forearm with an upside-down red heart like the album cover, came through loud and clear. Casey rested his forehead on the door for a second, listening and wondering what Joel was doing, thinking, feeling in there.
Finally, he raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the door jerked open and Joel stood there with his eyes narrowed, dark hair hanging in his face, and a cigarette between his lips. “Hey,” he said, sucking deeply and exhaling a stream of smoke up between them.
“Can I come in?”
Joel stepped back and motioned for Casey to enter. Bruno greeted Casey with his usual enthusiasm, but Joel just turned and walked into the kitchen, where he’d apparently baked more chocolate chip cookies from his frozen stash. Casey followed and sat at the table, where there was a pack of cigarettes, a tube of lube, and a box of condoms.
He swallowed hard. “I see you’ve been shopping.”
The music pounded around them, coming from the speakers in the living room.
“I didn’t know if you’d come tonight,” Joel said, raising a brow challengingly and taking a drag on his cigarette. “But I figured if you did, no matter how things go from here, we’d want these.”
Casey’s heart pounded as he stood, took a step closer to Joel, and stole the mostly-smoked cigarette from his mouth. He felt the damp paper against his own lips and shivered. Taking a drag, he then put it out in the sink and tossed the stub into the trash.
“I thought you were going to quit.”
“I was. But…” Joel shrugged, eyes narrow and hard, his lips wet from his nervous tongue. “I broke down and bought a pack after I left your parents’ house. I figured if you didn’t come by tonight, I’d at least have the satisfaction of a smoke.”
“I called Becca. She told me you’d been at her place.”
Joel’s mouth tightened. “She’s my person when shit goes bad. That’s all.”
“And has shit gone bad?”
“What the fuck do you think, Casey? Your father said he was cutting you off if you stay involved with me and—”
“It’s not his business. He doesn’t have to know.”
“You want me to be a secret?”
“No. It’s just… No. I don’t want that at all. What I want is for us to agree to see what happens. My dad said some things. So what? They’re things he probably doesn’t mean. I know him. He’ll have regrets later.”
“Believe me. I know all about dads who say and do things they regret later, or at least pretend to regret, but what if he does mean it? What then?”
Casey swallowed hard. He’d done well at NYU. But if his father wasn’t going to pay for his final semester, then he’d just have to find another way to complete his education.
“It doesn’t matter,” Casey said quietly, trying to calm Joel down again. “I’ll get a job. I’ll go to school here in Knoxville. Or I won’t graduate at all. That’s fine too.”
“Are you insane? That’s not fine. You’re too good for that, Casey. You need a degree.”
“Why? All I really want is to get involved with people’s businesses, with a community, and contribute to good people’s growth and prosperity. Hell, if I could help you with your books and turn Vreeland’s into a successful store, that’d be satisfying enough to me. If I could help you make the store part of the fabric of Knoxville—”
“It already is part of the fabric of Knoxville.”
“I know, but there are ways to capitalize on that and—”
“And I haven’t done a good job with it,” Joel agreed, his fingers trembling as he raked his hand into his dark hair, messing it up even more. “I’m not a great manager or marketer, I know. I’d rather be home, working on books. Which I’m also no good at marketing.”
“I’ve already said I’d help with that.”
“But you have so many more opportunities ahead of you. You can’t leave school to try to shore up my failing life.”
“Your life isn’t a failure. It’s just that it’s too hard to do this all alone.” Casey stepped closer. “You don’t have to be alone, Joel. I could be there with you, for you. We could work together.”
“From what your asshole dad was saying, it sounds like the least of it is your schooling. You’d be giving up them, as well. The family. Your family.”
“And that’s on him.” Casey’s stomach rolled at the thought of not seeing his parents anymore, of not being part of their life, of losing his connection to them. He was an only child. They were all he knew.
He wished he could call Ann and get her advice on how to move forward with all of this, how to talk to his father. But if his dad wasn’t paying for her services anymore, then he didn’t want to rack up additional expenses. Of course, he’d owe her at least a call or email in explanation of what was going on and to cancel their future appointments.
“You don’t mean that. You’ll regret it, and then you’ll hate me. Right now, living here seems exciting and fun. A place with just the two of us, where we can be alone. A love nest, or whatever the fuck. But that’s not reality. I’m broke, Casey. I can’t support myself, much less you. I catch fish out of the fucking lake to supplement my meals, and sometimes I go hungry. I don’t want that for you. I never want to see you eating ramen for a week because that’s all we can afford. It’s not what I want for you. Ever. Don’t you see? If you’re not going to be reasonable for yourself, then I’ll be reasonable for you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that we can have tonight. But tomorrow you’ll go home to daddy and tell him you’re accepting his deal. I’ll be out of your life, but you’ll at least have a life—the life you were always supposed to live. Without me in it.”
“So you think I’m going to…what?” He tapped the box of condoms. “Fuck you and then just leave?”
“It’ll be a nice memory for us both.”
“A nice memory?” Casey shook his head. “For one thing, no. For another thing, you’ve never even been fucked before. It might not be a ‘nice memory’ at all. You might hate it. Some guys do.”
“I won’t hate it.”
“This is so not the point! But how the fuck would you know?”
“Because it’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be with you. Like that. And if I get that? Tonight? Then it’s a gift. A Christmas miracle. And that’s more than I ever thought I’d have. Don’t ruin this by making it more than it needs to be. Don’t ruin your life or your relationship with your parents—”
“What relationship with my parents?”
Joel threw his hands in the air. “The one where they don’t hate and hurt you every damn day.”
“Like your dad does to you?”
Joel shrugged. “He can’t put his hands on me anymore at least. But he still manages to get in some abuse. His mouth is good for that.”
“You don’t have to take that.”
“I know. Believe me, I get it.” Joel shivered.
“My parents think they can tell me what to do and who to be. That’s not the life I deserve either, is it? Don’t I deserve a life I choose? One of my own design and making?”
“You’re special. You could have the entire world if you want it.”
“You say that because you love me. I know because I feel the same way about you, and I want you to have the whole world too.”
“The difference is, you can have it!”
“There is no difference at all because I don’t want it if you’re not with me.”
Joel scratched at his eyebrow with his thumb, obviously searching for something else to say to convince Casey that they couldn’t work.
But
Casey wasn’t going to hear it. Maybe he was naïve, and maybe he was spoiled, but he didn’t really believe he’d be cut off, and even if he was…so what? They’d find a way to survive. He believed in the two of them. They were magic together.
“Can we stop fighting now?” Joel asked sullenly. He flicked the condom box with his finger. “Will you please just fuck me?”
Casey rubbed a hand over his face, calming himself. “I won’t ‘just fuck you,’ but I’ll make love with you, if that’s what you really want right now.”
“That’s what I want.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m fucking sure, Casey.” Joel snatched up the cigarettes, but Casey pried them out of his hand and tossed them onto the table. Instead, he grabbed the condoms and the lube. “Let’s go then.”
Joel kicked the door closed behind them, his body trembling as he clenched fistfuls of Casey’s sweater and tugged him into another heated kiss. Casey tossed the box of condoms and lube onto the bed, but Joel kept his eyes on Casey’s, diving deep into his dark, dilated pupils. Casey’s hot breath puffed against his mouth, and they kissed again. They shucked their clothes quickly, stopping only to click on the space heaters against the chill of the room.
Bruno whined outside the door, but Joel ignored it, shaking all over as Casey gripped his biceps and took another brutal kiss. Their cocks pressed against each other, hard and leaking slippery pre-come that streaked over his stomach. When Casey pressed him down onto the bed, Joel closed his eyes, moaning at the friction of their body hair over skin and the delicious slide of their bodies as they moved together, cock-to-cock, gripping and kissing and biting as they grunted and moaned.
Casey’s hand slipped down between Joel’s legs, bypassing his cock and taint to rub against his asshole. Joel clutched him closer, wrapping his arms around Casey’s neck, kissing him hard as he spread his legs wider, giving more access. Casey’s fingers were dry and his nails blunt on Joel’s tender anus, and Joel shivered as Casey stroked him there over and over until his asshole quivered and his cock flexed, pushing out a bead of pre-come.