by Elle Keaton
After giving her statement, Lisa borrowed Travis’s phone—Lenore had made her throw hers out the car window—and called her dad to reassure him she would be okay, but no, she wasn’t coming home that night.
“You can stay here; we have a spare room.” Rod spoke before Travis could. “I mean, if you’re okay with that. It seems horrible to have to pay for a hotel room—although we could pay for one if you’d prefer not to be here.”
Lisa cocked her head, clearly thinking about Rod’s offer. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself. “Yes, I’ll stay, thank you for the offer. I don’t think I want to be alone tonight, even in a hotel with other people. I mean—I’m okay. I never believed she’d really hurt me, but I was afraid she’d cause an accident. It’s all been… a lot.”
“God, I am so sorry.” Travis couldn’t believe his own mother abducted his ex-fiancée at gunpoint. Some things just couldn’t be made up.
“Thank you. Travis, I know you’re not to blame. It was a little bit of a come-to-Jesus moment when she pulled that gun out, I’m not going to lie.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m kind of to blame.” Rod squeezed his arm.
She cocked her head, pinning him with a surprisingly sympathetic gaze. “Not really. I’m a small-town girl, but I’ve been around. I’ve read books; I did leave for college. I don’t live under a rock. I’ve thought a lot about life since we called off the engagement. My dad and I had time to talk on our trip. The terrible things Lenore said about you and Rod and women in general—she put my feelings in perspective. You did hurt me, but you tried to do the right thing, which I appreciate more now. Lenore has a serious case of internalized misogyny.”
“I’m sorry for everything.”
“Travis, I could have been like her, I think. You and I weren’t meant to be together. I know you’re sorry, and like I said, it’s not your fault. Anyway, I know it’s only seven, but I need to take a shower and go to bed.”
Travis showed her the bathroom and the spare bedroom.
“There are fresh towels under the sink. And I could loan you a T-shirt or something to sleep in.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Travis was wondering when the press would come knocking at their door, but then Rod pointed out that Adam Klay was a federal agent and wondered if there had been some sort of media blackout so they wouldn’t be bothered. If so, Travis was grateful. One day they would take Adam up on his offer to meet his partner and drink wine on the patio. Not this night. “What a weird day.”
“That’s an understatement. Let’s watch a movie until your dad gets here.”
“Does ‘a movie’ mean sex?” Travis asked hopefully.
“Travis, your ex-fiancée is sleeping in the room across the hall.”
“We could turn up the volume?”
“No,” Rod said firmly. “How about you get on the phone and order pizza? Get a loaded one; I’m starving. Ask Lisa what she wants.”
Travis’s stomach rumbled in agreement. Rod grinned. Damn, Travis was glad to know that grin was all his.
Lisa didn’t want anything, but Travis and Rod scarfed down most of the large pizza in under ten minutes. Maybe not a record—they weren’t eighteen anymore—but close.
In their bedroom Rod stripped down to nothing, including taking his cast off, and crawled under the sheets.
“You need anything? Water? A beer?” Travis asked.
“I just need you to get in bed and hold me.”
“I can do that.”
Rod watched, grinning while Travis stripped, then snuggled next to him under the covers. Travis draped an arm across Rod’s chest and pressed his nose into the base of Rod’s neck, breathing a sigh of… something. Relief? Relaxation? Rod must’ve felt it too.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Rod whispered into the quiet of the room.
“I am too.” He was sorry. Sorry that she had turned a corner somewhere that had led to a place of such hatred. Sorry for his dad and his sister. Had his mom put aside dreams to marry Michael? She’d never talked about anything other than their family and the farm. Had she wanted to be something different but instead ended up stuck forever in a place from which she felt she couldn’t escape? How was his dad going to cope?
There wasn’t much to say. It was impossible for Travis to know what Michael would do. In the past weeks he had stood by Travis’s side and supported him, but Travis didn’t know how this incident would affect him.
“Wanna watch Volcano?” Rod asked.
“I suppose.” Travis lifted his head so Rod could witness the terrible pout. “If we can’t have sex, I’ll settle for a hot and sweaty Tommy Lee Jones.”
Rod clicked the TV on, and the sounds of LA imploding under the heat of a volcano filled the room.
“She’ll think we’re having sex anyway if it’s this loud,” Travis said. “We might as well.”
19
Ignoring Rod’s halfhearted protest, Travis snaked a hand across his abdomen and began stroking him. Rod shut his eyes, attempting to stifle a groan. His traitorous cock hardened under Travis’s caresses and, worse, he’d apparently used up his spine for the day. He bucked into Trav’s grip, reveling in the sensation against his better judgment.
“We’ll just do this,” Travis whispered into Rod’s ear. He pushed against Rod’s hip, turning him onto his side, and molded himself to Rod’s back, his erection pressing insistently into the crack of Rod’s ass.
As LA burned and Tommy Lee bossed people around, Trav kept his grip on Rod steady and firm, rutting against his back, his erection slipping between Rod’s ass cheeks to nudge against his hole, teasing. Rod wanted nothing more than to feel Travis shoot against him, the heat of come and reassurance of life. He pushed back against Travis and could feel Travis’s chest rising and falling with the exertion. Back and forth—into Travis’s hand, against Travis’s groin—they set a rhythm that was easy and slick. Precome oozed from his slit, giving Travis a little lube. Travis rubbed his thumb along the top, pressing into the soft head of his shaft.
“Trav…”
“Yeah, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
Travis thrust again against Rod’s back. Rod twisted his torso, needing Travis’s lips against his own, needing to have his mouth on Travis somewhere, anywhere. The kiss wasn’t gentle; it was a clashing of teeth and sucking and gnawing, and it ended with Travis groaning into his mouth as he shuddered against Rod, hot and slick.
“Fuck…”
One more twist of Travis’s grip was all it took for Rod to follow him over the edge. He stuffed a fist into his mouth to keep their guest from hearing his release.
Some time later—Rod only knew it was fully dark outside—he felt Travis roll out of bed and fumble around for clothing.
“What’s up?” Rod whispered.
“My dad’s here—well, at the hospital. I’m going to meet him.”
“You want me to come?”
“Not this time. Tomorrow, maybe. I know he wants to see you.” Travis leaned down to drop a kiss on his forehead before leaving the room. Rod drifted in and out of sleep, but it was restless. It wasn’t until Travis returned to bed several hours later, in the early hours of the morning, that he was able to fall completely back to sleep.
“They’re what?” Travis asked sleepily.
Rod felt terrible waking Travis after he’d come back so late from meeting Michael. He wanted to stay in their bed and hold Travis close. It didn’t matter that it had been hours since Lenore had held the gun on them; Rod had seen their life together flash before his eyes.
“What?” Travis repeated, bleary and not awake.
Rod watched Travis visibly try to shake off his sleep fog. Despite how guilty Rod felt, Travis was adorable when he was half asleep. His sleep habits hadn’t changed much since they were kids: the fitted sheet was half pulled off his side of the bed, the blanket was discarded on the floor, and he had one pillow under his head while most of the others were also on the floor. Unlike
their childhood sleepovers, Rod had fallen asleep with Travis’s arm possessively holding him around the middle. He’d woken up mostly the same way, except for the tornado of bedding.
Rod had been using Travis as a pillow when the buzz of his phone on the nightstand had caught his attention. He’d been expecting a daily news roundup or something, not a text from his dad.
“My dad and Meg are on their way. I got a text that was a picture of the Space Needle!” He checked his phone again. “It came like an hour ago. They’ll be here any minute.”
The words seemed to finally sink in. Travis sat up. The remaining bit of sheet pooled in his lap, but it didn’t hide anything. Slowly, he slipped out from under the blanket to stand in front of Rod.
A naked Travis was more distraction than Rod could deal with. Grabbing his hand, Rod attempted to propel Travis toward the shower.
“Why are we in a hurry?” Travis blinked slowly.
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as awake as Rod had hoped.
“They’re on their way! I forgot they were coming! You have to admit a lot has been going on. It’s not every day your partner’s mother kidnaps someone at gunpoint.”
That seemed to wake Travis up. His blue eyes were sharp and alert now. “What about Lisa? And my dad’s on the couch.”
Rod groaned. “I forgot she was here. Shit god damn, get dressed, get in the shower—not in that order. I’ll tell Lisa we have company.”
Leaving Travis to find clothes, Rod finished pulling on his shorts and cast—he was going to be ecstatic when it finally came off for good—and knocked on Lisa’s door. There was no answer, so he went to find her. Michael’s eyes opened as he passed through the living room to the kitchen, where he found a note propped against the coffee pot.
“I’m going to take a quick shower, if you two don’t mind,” Michael said.
“Please, make yourself at home. But you’re going to have to hurry to beat Trav.”
Michael disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom.
“She’s already left!” Rod called out. Travis shuffled into the living room with no shirt on and his shorts unbuttoned, displaying the beginning of his treasure trail. If it weren’t for the elder Walker, and his own dad practically at the front door, Rod would have dragged Travis right back to bed and taken advantage of him.
“Come on, Trav,” he urged, “any minute, remember?”
“I’ll get dressed, I promise, but I want to feel you again first. You got up too fast.” He was pouting.
Rod relented, peeking down the hallway to where the bathroom door remained shut. “Come here.”
Suspiciously more alert-looking and wearing a naughty smile, Travis closed the distance between them. His smile deepened further, the blue of his eyes limitless. Rod was willfully ensnared. Travis tipped Rod’s chin up just enough so he could lean in and drop a kiss on his lips. Travis may have meant the kiss to be playful, but it was a dead-serious promise.
Travis held Rod’s chin and plundered his mouth. Rod opened wide, wanting it all. Travis sucked Rod’s tongue into his own mouth, then released him to suck and nibble on his lower lip. Fuck.
“Trav…” Rod tried to speak.
Travis wrapped his arms around Rod, pulling him tight against his own body, and Rod gave up his protest. Who cared if his dad arrived and they had their hands down each other’s pants? This was their house. Kissing Travis was like nothing Rod had experienced before. Like everything Travis did, he did it thoroughly and with confidence. It turned Rod on to give Travis control.
It was inevitable that they were still making out like a couple of horny high-schoolers when the knock came on the front door.
“Ungh, just a second,” Rod called out, reluctantly pulling away. “You asshole, I have an erection.
“I know.” Travis cupped him quickly, squeezing just a little. “So do I.” He turned and went back into the bedroom. Rod quickly pulled a sweatshirt Travis had left out over his head, hoping it would drop down far enough to hide the evidence of his arousal. He went to answer the door.
It had been at least five years since Rod had seen his dad in person. The last time had been when he graduated college. It was funny how he was the same and yet somehow different. Rod couldn’t put his finger on it at first but then realized his dad looked happy, content. There was amusement in his eyes as he passed Rod and came into the house. It was slightly disquieting to think he had no clear memories of his dad being happy, laughing, while he grew up.
“Hi, Dad.” He felt unexpectedly awkward as he stood back to let his dad, Meg, and two as-yet-unidentified teenagers into the house. They all trooped past him into the living room. His dad, at the end of the line, stopped in front of Rod.
“Hi, son.” Will grabbed him by the shoulders, looking Rod over before engulfing him in a huge hug. Something else Rod never recalled his father doing before. After the surprise wore off, Rod hugged his dad back. His dad let go, saying, “You look good, Rod. Although the sweatshirt is on backward.”
Rod looked down at himself. Sure enough, he’d pulled the sweatshirt on so that the tag was in the front. He groaned at himself and quickly pulled his arms inside it and turned it right way around.
Travis emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed, thank god, although he had stolen one of Rod’s shirts instead of putting on his own. Tit for tat.
He looked at the rumpled blanket on the couch. “Where’s Dad?”
“Shower. He should be about done, though.”
Travis headed for Meg. “Good morning. I’m Travis.” He stuck out a hand. Meg chuckled and shook it. “Meg Beton-White, pleased to meet you both.” She indicated the teens with a wave. “Morgan and Alex, the terrible two.”
Morgan and Alex looked to be somewhere around fifteen, although Rod had no way of knowing. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the ability to tell how old someone was.
“Mom, that joke was never funny.”
“If a joke is never funny, is it a joke?” Travis asked.
The two looked at Travis suspiciously. One asked, “Are you trying to relate to us?”
Travis looked offended. “No. That’s a serious question.”
Rod snickered and started to say something, but Meg got there first. “Alex, be polite.”
“Dad, can I talk to you for a sec?” Rod led his dad into the kitchen, where he filled him in on the events of the day before.
“How can I help? How can we help?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think there is much else to do. Travis’s dad drove in late last night. Travis met him at the hospital and stayed with him for a while. There isn’t much Michael can do, either, until they evaluate Lenore. Lisa says she isn’t going to press charges, but…”
“Wow.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” As he said the words, Rod realized they were true. He’d felt emotionally tetherless for such a long time, beginning back when his parents were still married to each other. Now people were starting to fill up his life. He was happy.
“I’m glad too. It shouldn’t have taken this long. But sometimes humans can be pretty stupid. Let’s go make a plan for the day, and we’ll get out of your way for now. If you think Travis won’t mind, I’d like to at least offer some support to Michael.”
“I think he’d appreciate it, and I don’t mind,” Travis said, poking his head into the kitchen. “We’re going to head out, though. We’ll meet up with you later if he’s up for it.” Travis kissed Rod quickly before grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and heading out the door with his father.
Rod watched them leave and wished he could do something more to help the Walker men. Whether they would admit it or not, both of them were hurting. More than hurting: shocked and horrified at the turn of events. Travis may not have always been the most observant person, but he’d never deliberately hurt someone. Lenore had crossed that line, and Rod hated that it was because of him.
Once this shock wore off, would Travis resent Rod? Resent that choosing him mean
t Travis lost his mother? He shook his head. It was too much to think about. Too much to take in. He wasn’t normally a fatalistic person, but only the passing of time would help them all heal and reveal what scars might be left behind.
“Mom said you were gay, but I didn’t believe her.” Rod’s attention refocused from his boyfriend to his dad’s step-kids. The two were close to identical, but the one who spoke was shorter. Rod thought his name was Alex.
“Why not?”
Alex shrugged. “I figured she was trying to make me feel better.”
“Feel better about?” There was no way Rod was putting words in that boy’s mouth.
He shrugged again. “About being gay too.”
Morgan came up to stand protectively next to his brother, a stubborn expression on his face. Rod appreciated him having his brother’s back. He noticed that both his dad and Meg had made themselves scarce. The back door was ajar; they must have gone to check out the garden.
“Are you thirsty? I think Travis bought some of that fancy fizzy water. Sorry, no soda.”
Each of the boys grudgingly accepted a can of pricey water. Rod could not figure out why Travis bought it, but he had to admit he liked the cran-raspberry flavored one.
He popped open a can for himself and leaned back against the counter.
“Did you come out recently?”
Alex took a swig of water before he answered. Morgan watched, still protective.
“I guess. It wasn’t on purpose, though.” He looked down at the kitchen floor.
When it became clear he wasn’t going to say any more, Morgan chipped in. “One of the jock assholes, who is probably gay too, told the whole school that Alex had tried to kiss him.”
“I did try to kiss him. He’s the one who kept ‘accidentally’ running into me on my way home from school. He tried to kiss me first. I don’t know why he did that. I wasn’t going to say anything.”
Rod sighed. God, why were humans so fucking stupid? “He’s probably afraid.”
“That’s what Mom said, but he doesn’t have the whole school calling him a faggot, does he? No, he made sure it was me.”