On the Rocks: An MM Gay Romance (Tales From Revere's Book 3)

by Leah Meers

  I snorted and pulled out of the lot. My phone beeped with an incoming text, but I didn't peek until safely parked at Revere's.

  Cody: I'm at an orientation meeting at the camp for my new job. Probably need to collapse after this. Think Holly's trying to show us every inch of the 100 acres in one night. Dark woods are kinda creepy.

  Gabe: Well, I'd tell you not to get eaten by bears, but I don't think they're your type, anyway.

  My thumbs hovered over the text box. Obvious might work. Best not to analyze too much before taking action, right?

  Gabe: If you DO want to get eaten, you know where to find me.

  I pocketed my phone and pushed into the Thursday night crowd. Paul was busy at the other end of the bar, but Whit gave me a smile and a wave. He grabbed a glass and reached for the ice scoop before I got to the bar, and my heart sang knowing I had a home there at Revere's.

  ~ ~ ~

  The fourth time Cal nudged my arm and asked if I was still texting my friend Cody, I almost growled at him. Twice during breaks at his job orientation, I got messages complaining about weird sounds in the woods or his impression of the other new hires. It was just general stuff that really wasn't that exciting, but I couldn't stop checking my phone. I got the last message when Cody was home already and about to hop in the shower. That gave me something interesting to imagine at least.

  "What is it with this guy? Why doesn't he come hang out with all of us down here?" Cal leaned back and gulped down some beer. His recent fling, Ross, had left an hour earlier. Boredom seemed to make him meddlesome.

  "He's an old friend from college. We just ran into each other again." I shrugged and pocketed my phone.

  "And he's gay? You hooking up?"

  I opted for humor instead of honesty. I still didn't know how to answer that first question, anyway. I had no clue if Cody was really one hundred percent out, and I certainly would not out him. "Don't let Ross hear you ask questions like that. He looks the sort to stab you in your sleep."

  Cal tossed back his head and laughed. "Nah, Ross is fine. We don't do sleepovers, anyway." He shrugged. "Just a casual thing."

  One more peek at my phone, but Cody hadn't messaged me since the goodnight twenty minutes earlier. I sucked the last ice cube into my mouth and crunched it.

  "Ugh. How can you chew ice?" Cal slid out the other side of the booth. "You good on your own? I have an early appointment tomorrow." When I nodded, he strolled off toward the exit.

  Great job, great new friends, great connecting with Cody again, but all that great stuff still didn't sink in deep enough to prevent me from feeling lonely and a bit lost. The last thing I wanted was for some other guy to notice and come over. I carried my glass back to Whit, waved goodbye, and headed out.

  My stomach growled, and I checked the clock. Eleven-forty-five. I had oranges at the apartment, and maybe some leftover Chinese that hadn't gone moldy yet, but I was too hungry to risk it. I pulled into the lot of the Sunrise Diner and walked inside.

  A black-haired guy seven or eight inches taller than me wiped down the lunch counter. He looked tired and not too happy to see a customer so close to closing time.

  "I know you're near closing, but I'm starving. You have anything put together already or something easy you can whip up? Doesn't have to be hot. I'm not picky."

  His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled with relief as he tossed the rag into the sink. "Thank you. The last thing I wanted to do was fire up the grill again." He ducked into the kitchen. "Have some potato salad, could do turkey or roast beef sandwiches, cole slaw?" He craned his neck out the door to get my answer.

  "Turkey sandwich with slaw on it and potatoes on the side?"

  "You got it." He turned back to dish out the food into take-home containers.

  The door swung open, and the bells jangled. I swiveled around on the stool but turned back with my heart in my throat the moment I saw Chaz and Bryce push inside.

  "Diner's closed, guys," the tall man called from the doorway to the kitchen. "Come back tomorrow."

  Chaz sneered and stepped closer. He pointed at me. "He's here still. Must be open if you're serving him."

  I hated having my back to them, but turning around to confront them seemed like a worse idea. Nerves skittered up and down my spine, but I just hunched my shoulders and let the guy behind the counter deal with them. He was massive. They'd have to be idiots to try anything.

  "He was in here before closing. It's after now. Kitchen's closed." He stepped through the space in the counter and took one long step past me.

  A quick glance over my shoulder showed the huge man standing almost close enough to Chaz to feel threatening but still professional. Bryce hung back by the door, an uncomfortable frown twisting his face.

  "Come on, dude," Bryce said. "Let's just go get pizza."

  Chaz still stared at the waiter, though. He squared his shoulders as if he could ever look as intimidating as the six-foot-gazillion bodybuilder. "Maybe he gave you some kind of special payment, huh? Is that why you won't serve us? He got down behind the counter and—"

  The next step toward Chaz blew service industry propriety out the window, and Chaz was smart enough to shut up and take a step back. Bryce had the door open and was halfway through it.

  "You need to leave now before I call the cops." If the waiter wasn't scary-looking enough, his low growl had enough bite behind it to make anyone with an ounce of sense bolt.

  Bryce vanished out the door without another word or glance. Chaz sneered and postured for a few seconds, but followed his buddy out into the night. He smacked a napkin dispenser off a table as he went by and sent it clanking across the floor.

  When the tall man's hand came down on my shoulder, I jerked away and nearly squeaked.

  "Shit, sorry," he said, his voice low. "Those jerks left. I'm sorry about that." He stepped around the other side of the counter again to give me some space. "You okay? My name's Finn."

  I tangled my hands into my hair and blew out a breath. "Yeah. Thanks, Finn. I'm Gabe."

  He fetched the two takeout containers of my food and slipped them into a bag. "I'm sorry that happened in here. I don't serve those kinds of people."

  Nodding, I grabbed the bag and stood up. "I know. Thank you. Some people are just assholes." I tried to laugh, but it came out strangled and desperate. After nearly a decade, you'd think Chaz's bullying ways wouldn't affect me so much. Getting shoved into the lockers at school and taunted on the regular was so long ago, but it felt like some type of gateway to the worse shit I knew could happen.

  When I was still several feet from my car, an engine rumbled to life on the other side of the lot. Headlights blinded me as I turned toward it, but I could make out the shape of the sedan. Everything happened so fast. Tires squealed. I lunged to the side as my hand released the food bag.

  My shoulder slammed into the side of my car as I the other car's tires crush my takeout into the blacktop. Chaz bared his teeth in the driver's seat, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I only saw him for a second before his car shot out of the lot and away into the night with a roar of the engine.

  The door to the diner crashed open, and Finn charged outside. He snarled and shot a glance at the retreating car before hurrying over to me. When his hand touched my arm, I shrieked.

  "Let go! Get off!" Any sense of reason vanished with the puff of exhaust from Chaz's car. I scrabbled away from Finn and staggered around the car hood. In my mind, the turkey sandwich smashed into the ground was me. Finn was no longer the friendly waiter at the Sunrise Diner. Those same old images of the stick, the fists, the blood-splattered shoes swam through my head. I spun away and puked up water and bile into the weeds at the edge of the lot.

  Finn stayed on the other side of the car, his hands spread out but not reaching toward me. When I straightened up again, he almost took a step forward before catching himself. "Gabe. Gabe, are you all right? That guy…" He blew out a harsh breath. "I'm calling the cops."

  "No." The word s
topped him in his tracks, and I met his eyes. He wasn’t directing his anger at me. I could tell, and it helped me take another gulping breath. "No cops. Just… I want to go home."

  "Do you want me to drive you? Call someone?" His voice descended to a rumble.

  I shook my head. "I'll be okay. Thank you." I met his eyes and nodded. It was all I could manage.

  He didn't look happy about not calling the police or letting me drive off on my own. I saw him in my rearview mirror as I turned toward my apartment. All I wanted to do is get home to my safe space and lock the door.

  My stomach rumbled again. Maybe find something to eat. I barked out a humorless laugh at the thought of my sandwich and potato salad smeared all over the diner's parking lot. My throat constricted and my stomach churned as I realized it could far too easily have been me instead. I was probably better off skipping dinner.

  The hot shower relaxed me some, and I pulled Cody's hoodie over my underwear, which made me feel safer in ways I didn't want to need but did. I double checked the locks on the door and all the windows, although no one could levitate up two stories to sneak in. I burrowed into my blankets and tried to relax.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Chaz's snarl, the bumper of his car rushing by me, the crushed takeout bag. An hour later, as I stared up at the shifting shadows across the ceiling, Chaz's face morphed into someone else's, multiple someones I didn't want to think about. Hate, rage, and some evil glee shone in their eyes. White knuckles. Fists wrapped around wood. Nowhere to run or hide. My mind shut off at last and I drifted. My sleep filled with nightmares I thought I had left behind two years earlier.

  Chapter Eight

  Cody

  With every step I climbed toward Gabe's door, I reconsidered my decision to just stop by. I knew he worked nights, so he probably slept late, but it was the morning after his night off, and I had to take my chances. I'd knock once, and if he didn't answer, then I'd just leave and maybe call him later. Or maybe I would just leave now and text him. Ask him if he wanted to grab some breakfast or lunch, or maybe… Ugh. No use standing outside his door like an idiot and doing nothing.

  I knocked before I lost my nerve completely.

  Nothing happened. I debated whether I should knock again or just leave before I risked creep territory when I heard shuffling on the other side of the door. I straightened my jacket and adjusted my cap. The image of Gabe standing just on the other side of the door popped into my mind, and a weird mixture of hunger and concern swirled through me. What was I doing just showing up at – I peeked at the clock on my phone – quarter to ten in the morning?

  Before I could turn all the way around to retreat down the stairs, the door eased open. Gabe stood there, hair adorably messed, dark circles under his eyes, face pale, and wearing my hoodie, fuzzy socks, and nothing else.

  As adorable as he looked, the hunger vanished as I took in his expression. "What's wrong? What happened?" He turned toward the kitchen, and I followed him inside, pushing the door closed behind me.

  "Lock it," he said over his shoulder, his eyes wide as they flickered from me to the door and back again.

  I turned back to do as he said, hung my jacket on the peg near the door and tried to quiet the nerves that sparked to life the moment I saw his face.

  He grabbed another mug, filled it with coffee, and topped up his own with his back to me. My gaze trailed over the bulky blue sweatshirt, which hung just below his butt, and down his inked legs to the slouchy, black and gray striped socks.

  "Gabe," I tried again. "What happened?"

  He handed me a mug and led me over to the couch. The fact that he hadn't said anything yet freaked me out. I looked around the apartment, trying to find any sign of something wrong. He wasn't just quiet. I knew I hadn't seen him in years, but I knew with concrete surety that this wasn't just Gabe being Gabe.

  "I stopped by the diner last night late. You know that massive guy that works there, Finn?" He waited for my nod before continuing. "He threw some jerks out because the place was closing. One of them kinda…" He gulped down more coffee and stared into the depths of the mug. "Almost hit me with his car. It was just… it freaked me out a bit." He shrugged like nearly getting run down was nothing.

  My mug clattered on the table, and I burst to my feet to pace away from the couch and back again. Rage sank through me and burned from spine to fingertips. My hands balled into fists without thought. "Who was it? Who the fuck was it?"

  Scattered memories of high school bullies tumbled through my mind, people who might be nasty enough to take their anger out on Gabe after getting thrown out of a diner. My brain spun to a stop on the image of three guys clustered around him pressed up against the side of his car at the Bowline.

  "Was it Chaz? Did he try to hurt you again?"

  Gabe cringed on the couch with his arms wrapped around his middle. He didn't meet my eyes, but he didn't deny who it was, either.

  "I'm going to kill him." I whirled toward the door.

  "No. Cody!" Gabe scrambled to his feet and rushed over to grab my arm. His fingers dug into my muscle and pulled me back toward the couch. "No, you're not. He was just pissed about Finn throwing him out. I just got in the way."

  I clutched his shoulders and shook my head. Our eyes met and held, and I could read a thousand thoughts and feelings flowing through his. "This wasn't your fault, Gabe."

  He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. "I know. I'm not saying that. Just that he was pissed and I was there. It wasn't like some personal attack."

  My arms wrapped around him, and I drew him hard against my chest. I closed my eyes and tipped my face into his pale hair. He smelled like coffee and a mix of shampoo and Gabe. I breathed him deep into my lungs and felt the tension flowing out of me on my next breath. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't want anything bad happening to you."

  We stood like that for a long moment before he pulled away and headed back to the couch. "Come on," he said. "Finish your coffee and tell me good stuff. How's the camp?"

  We sat facing each other. He tucked his legs up together against the cushions and pulled the hem of my hoodie down far enough to cover to mid-thigh. As I told him stories of the camp tour, Holly, and the other new hires, I tried desperately to look anywhere but his thighs, the knobs of his kneecaps, and the curve of calves above those fuzzy socks.

  "He took off into the bushes with Holly on his heels yelling about poison ivy and how the facilities were just a three-minute walk away. I really don't know if he'll show up for work tomorrow."

  Gabe mirrored my smile and reached out to smack me on the arm. Instead of pulling back, his hand rested there and his body swayed toward mine. I don't even know if he was aware of it, but every nerve ending in my body sure perked up.

  "That would be hell," Gabe said with a laugh. "And you couldn't have sex forever so you wouldn't spread it to anyone else." His lips came together and stifled the laugh, and he looked down at his fingers wrapped around my forearm.

  We sat like that, still and waiting to see what would happen next. When his voice came again, it had returned to the tremulous near whisper from when he opened the door. "I was so scared, Cody." His eyes met mine. "I thought he—" He shook his head.

  A blast of heat swirled through me. Anger mixed with this fierce need to protect Gabe and keep him safe. I didn't think I would actually kill Chaz for threatening Gabe, but I didn't want to find out. When Gabe looked at me with the fear in his eyes and I felt his fingers tremble against my skin, the urge pushed against my skull like a fist.

  In the middle of that heat, however, was a thin thread of fear. How could I possibly be good enough for him? How could I protect him if I couldn't even stand by his side?

  The mind movie started up again and spilled memories into my thoughts. Pitching drills in the backyard with my father. His almost-but-not-quite look of disgust when I introduced him to Gabe as my roommate back in college. The anger and the obvious unmitigated let down when I injured my shoulder. If I cam
e out, he would probably give up on me altogether. With sudden clarity, I realized the thought didn't bother me like I expected it to.

  I looked at Gabe, all slender muscles and skin decorated with color and meaning, long blond hair fanned over the shoulders of my blue hoodie, silver in his ears, and his hand still curved around my arm as if he never wanted to let go. I didn't want him to.

  I slid my hand over his and twined our fingers together. "Let me keep you safe," I said. "Let me at least try."

  His head came up and our eyes locked together. Something like wonder flashed through them before he got control and smirked. "Wanna be my bodyguard?" His attempt at humor felt like a flimsy mask.

  "This isn't a joke, Gabe." When he opened his mouth, I interrupted. "I don't just mean what Chaz did. You know that wasn't." I reached across the space between us and laid my palm against his chest. "This isn't a joke. At least, I don't want it to be. I was so stupid all those years ago. I should've been proud to call you mine."

  Another of those horrible pauses when nobody moved. I hoped I didn't just screw up everything. Was the risk worth it? I watched Gabe bite his lip and thought, Oh yeah. Anything is worth it. In the space of a minute, two possibilities warred in my mind. He'd take his hand off my arm, get up, walk away to change and return my hoodie while he told me to leave. Or…

  He launched himself across the couch, his mouth colliding with mine in a mess of lips, teeth, and tongue. One hand knocked my cap off as he stroked his fingers over my hair. His bare legs folded around my denim-clad thighs. My hoodie rode up his hips to reveal a tiny pair of black briefs stretched across his bulge and tight, luscious ass. He locked his hands around the back of my neck and hung on with what seemed like desperation.

  It took only a moment of surprise before I responded. I took over the kiss, plunging my tongue between his lips, sucking on his when he returned the favor. A quick nip at his lower lip and his hips thrust forward involuntarily toward mine. Blood rushed south and my hard-on pressed against the seam of my jeans. My hands pushed under the hoodie and spread over his lower back.