Push & Pull (The Midwest Series Book 2)

by Brigham Vaughn

  After a little while, Lowell turned in his arms and stared at him for a long moment. Never losing eye contact, he threw a towel down on the shower floor and gracefully lowered to his knees.

  Brent’s knees went weak when Lowell slid his index finger into his mouth. The motions Lowell made as he wet the finger were so sexy they felt obscene to watch. Brent widened his stance when Lowell stroked that finger across his entrance and then gently applied pressure. When Lowell took Brent’s cock into his mouth again, Brent’s knees did buckle, and he had to grab for the wall to hold himself up. In just a few short strokes, Brent came with a groan, emptying into Lowell’s mouth.

  When he could think again, he staggered over to the bench.

  “Holy fuck.”

  Lowell’s smile was a touch smug as he stood. “Thanks for joining me in the shower.”

  “Any time,” Brent said faintly.

  Although they finished their shower together in relative silence, there were lots of sidelong glances and lingering touches. When the water was off, Brent wrung out the dripping towel Lowell had knelt on. They had to share the one remaining one to dry with, but Brent didn’t mind.

  He sat on the counter beside the sink and watched while Lowell went through his usual routine with eleven thousand products—give or take.

  “I wonder if we’d get in trouble with the park ranger if we got caught fooling around in the showers,” Lowell asked as they walked back to the site.

  Brent shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not, unless we were loud or left a mess.”

  “We could always invite him to join us,” Lowell said with a wink.

  Brent laughed, but he wondered if that would be something he’d actually be up for. In theory, the idea was great. But in reality ... he was pretty okay with it just being him and Lowell, especially now that things were going so well.

  Brent hung the wet towel over a tree branch, secured their belongings for the night, and checked the fire. When the camp site was buttoned up for the night, he joined Lowell inside the tent. It was hot and stuffy at the moment, so Brent zipped back the vents to let in a cooler breeze.

  Lowell lay down on his back, pillowing his head on his arms as he gazed up at the ceiling. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts, and Brent couldn’t tear his gaze away from Lowell’s flat abs and smooth chest. Fuck, he was hot.

  “I don’t know about you but I could pass out already,” Brent said as he settled beside Lowell with a yawn. After the long, physically demanding day and the orgasm, he was bushed.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Okay if I turn off the light?”

  “Yep.”

  Brent shut off the lantern, then settled on his back and closed his eyes. The chirp of the crickets was soothing, and his eyes began to droop.

  Just as he was drifting off, Lowell slid next to him. He rested his head on Brent’s shoulder, and Brent managed to wrap an arm around him and pull him closer before he was out.

  Brent awoke sometime in the middle of the night. They had separated but Lowell was still close, his hand resting on Brent’s on the sleeping bag between them. A strange feeling bubbled up in Brent’s chest.

  In the dim light, Brent could see nothing more than the huge dark pools of Lowell’s eyes in his pale face, just a few inches from his own. Brent sought for his lips, kissing him with a weird desperation that took him by surprise. Lowell’s touch on his cheek was tentative, but his lips were as hungry as Brent’s. The sound of their panting filled the air, and Brent crushed Lowell closer to him. They rubbed up against each other but not with the intent to get off. It was a tease, but in the best way.

  Gradually, their kisses slowed, growing softer and lazier. “Lowell, I—”

  Lowell stopped him with a finger to his lips and tucked himself close.

  “... don’t want this summer to end,” Brent thought.

  But maybe Lowell wasn’t ready to hear that.

  Chapter Twenty

  June 29, 2013 – Lake Superior, Michigan

  Lowell

  “What do you want for dinner?” Lowell asked as he set up the camp stove. They’d been hiking all day on trails along Lake Superior, and he was starving. Brent was building the fire, but thankfully, after weeks of practice, Lowell knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Hmm, I dunno. What are you in the mood for?”

  “Not steak.”

  Brent laughed. “Considering the fact that we haven’t bought any at the store, I think that’ll be pretty easy to avoid.”

  “Do you mind?” Lowell asked. Brent had never once complained about the moratorium on red meat.

  “No. I actually like that you’ve opened me up to some vegetarian stuff. It’s been great.”

  “Good. Because I was thinking black bean and sweet potato tacos.”

  “Perfect. As long as you make a shitload of it.” Brent set another log on the fire. “We’re going to need to shop in a couple of days though.”

  “Okay, I’ll make a list tonight,” Lowell said as he lit the stove.

  They’d fallen into an easy rhythm over the past few weeks of camping. Once Lowell got the hang of everything around the campsite, they’d traded off duties, and now setting up camp and getting dinner together took half the time.

  “We need to decide if we’re going somewhere to watch the fireworks too,” Brent said.

  The Fourth of July was in a few days, and they’d toyed with the idea of heading twenty minutes south to Houghton to find a fireworks display.

  “I don’t know.” Lowell opened a can of black beans. “Won’t there be any along the lake?”

  “There might. I have no idea. I can poke around online after dinner. Assuming I can get a signal anyway.”

  It had been hit or miss since they’d been at McLain State Park. Considering the fact that it was right along the shoreline of Lake Superior and about as far north as they were going to get in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, Lowell wasn’t exactly surprised.

  After dinner and dishes were done, they decided to go for a walk along the beach. Most people had left, and Lowell and Brent wandered the nearly empty beach until they found a place with decent signal. Brent took out his phone and searched for information about fireworks in the area. Lowell stepped behind him and rested his chin on Brent’s shoulder so he could see better. Also, because he wanted to be close to Brent. “Any luck?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  “Oh, well. I’m sure we can make some fireworks of our own.”

  “I can’t believe I just heard something that cheesy come out of your mouth.”

  “Terrible things happen when you’ve been away from civilization so long,” Lowell joked.

  “I think we need to get you back into a city. Although, I’m not sure Houghton qualifies.” Brent tucked his phone in his pocket and turned, looping his arms around Lowell.

  “It would be nice to spend an afternoon there,” Lowell admitted, settling against him. “We could go to a movie after we stock up on supplies or something.”

  “I was actually planning to take you to a drive-in when we get to the Traverse City area.” Brent said.

  “You want to take me to a drive-in?”

  “I dunno, I thought it might be fun.” Brent sounded almost shy. “Kinda dumb, I guess but ...”

  “No, no, that does sound fun,” Lowell reassured him. “I like that idea. It’s kitschy but in a good way.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.” Lowell grinned at him.

  “Cool. Then I’ll buy you popcorn and a float, and you can put out at the end of the date.”

  “Do you have some weird gay 1950s’ fantasy going through your head?”

  “Maybe.” Brent grinned. “You up for it?”

  “Hell, yes. And we can horrify all the conservative old people by making out in the car instead of watching the movie.”

  Brent huffed out a laugh. “You would get off on that, wouldn’t you?”

  “I might,” Lowell admitted. Brent turn
ed a skeptical glance on him. “Okay, fine. I would totally get off on it. But we don’t have to.”

  “I’m in. Trust me; I wasn’t complaining about your plan.” Brent’s phone buzzed in his pocket. “Ugh. Hang on. I better get this.” He pulled it out and frowned down at the screen. “Dude, a ton of call notifications from Micah keep popping up. I wonder what’s up with him. I haven’t talked to him since we were in Milwaukee.”

  Lowell deflated at little at the mention of his least favorite person on the planet. But he sighed and waved vaguely at Brent’s phone. “Call him back.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’d rather you call him now than have him interrupt us once we’re back at the tent.”

  “Good point.” Brent touched the screen, then lifted the phone to his ear, covering the speaker. “I’ll make it quick. I promise.”

  “I’ll ... wander this way.” Lowell pointed toward the shoreline.

  Brent nodded, but he was already focused on the phone call. “Hey, Micah. What’s up?”

  Lowell tried to tune out the conversation behind him as he walked over to the edge of the water.

  “Wait, slow down, dude. Start at the beginning. What happened?”

  Great, some crisis with Micah, Lowell groused as he knelt down to look at the stones that had been washed up along the sand. Leave it to that asshole to ruin a perfectly nice night with my boyfriend. Ugh, is Brent my boyfriend? I don’t even know. It feels like he is, and clearly, Brent and I have been ... doing something this summer.

  He wasn’t really sure what they were doing though. He’d been so adamantly against dating, but spending the past five weeks with Brent had been great. They got along well and Brent wasn’t trying to change Lowell.

  He made it feel easy.

  Lowell could see the way Brent looked at him sometimes, with the same mushy, heart-eyed expression Caleb looked at Nathan. Would it be so bad for Lowell to admit he was feeling the same way? Lowell waited for the knee-jerk fear and discomfort at the idea of admitting his feelings aloud but nothing happened. Sure, it would be awkward as hell. But it didn’t scare him witless to imagine telling Brent how he felt.

  He ... he trusted Brent. Completely.

  Holy shit. He trusted Brent. He didn’t like to admit how huge that was. But other than Caleb, who did he trust? No one.

  Lowell trailed his fingers in the sand, making little patterns.

  So, what did that mean, exactly? He was less sure of that part. But it felt pretty fucking major to him. And it was a safe bet that Brent would be on board. The idea made Lowell ... happy? He made a face when he realized he’d traced a little heart shape in the wet sand. He scrubbed it out with his fingertips, but it did nothing to erase his feelings.

  I love Brent.

  Lowell’s heart pounded and his head felt a little dizzy, but it didn’t change the feelings bubbling up in him. Or the urge to blurt them out. He could feel them, hovering on the tip of his tongue, and he thought he might explode if he didn’t get them out.

  Okay, so maybe it was time to take the leap and go for this. He was going to tell Brent how he felt and see what happened.

  Lowell wasn’t quite sure when he’d do it. Maybe tonight. Although, he didn’t want to blurt it out after sex—or worse, during—so maybe he should wait until tomorrow. He didn’t want to make it a big thing, but maybe it was. It was big, right? Again he waited for the panic to hit, but ... nothing.

  Nope, this was good. Being with Brent was good.

  “Lowell,” Brent shouted.

  He glanced up, worried by the panicked tone in Brent’s voice. He jogged toward Lowell and skidded to a stop in front of him.

  Lowell stood so they were eye-to-eye. “What happened?”

  “Micah. He totally fucked his shoulder up at training. It’s shredded.”

  Good, Lowell thought grimly. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person. And then guilt hit. Yeah, Micah was an asshole, but a fucked-up shoulder was a pretty shitty thing to wish on a pitcher. Even one as despicable as Micah.

  “How serious is it?” he asked.

  “Pretty fucking serious! He’s in the hospital. They’ve stabilized it, but he’s waiting for the team surgeon to have an opening.”

  “Ouch. What does that mean for his career?”

  “It sounds like it’s basically toast. They should be able to repair it enough to function, but the likelihood of ever playing again is pretty much nil.”

  “Shit.” Lowell still couldn’t help but feel like maybe karma was playing a part there, but he knew how devastated Micah must be.

  Brent grabbed his arm. “Come on, Lowell, let’s go.”

  Lowell blinked at him. “Go where?”

  “To Chicago. I told Micah I’d try to get there as soon as possible. I think it’s about a seven or eight hour drive from here.”

  Lowell blinked at him again. “Wait, what?”

  “Micah is all alone at the hospital right now. He has no one. His family is in California, and they can’t afford to fly to Chicago. They’re going to drive, but his mom’s work won’t let her leave for a few days, so it’ll take almost a week to get here.”

  “Doesn’t he have any other friends?” Lowell snapped. “Teammates? Something?”

  “I don’t know what happened, but it sounds like he was involved with the physical therapist for the team. He freaked out when he saw Micah drop to the ground in pain, and now everyone is speculating about their involvement. His team members are shying away, and he’s literally sitting in a hospital room alone.”

  “And that means we’re supposed to drop everything and go to him? What the fuck, Brent? You know how much I hate him.”

  “I know why you hate Micah, and I don’t blame you, but he really needs me.”

  “Maybe if Micah wasn’t such an asshole he’d have more people to help him out!”

  Brent crossed his arms. “Seriously? That’s what you’re going to tell a guy who is laid up in the hospital with his shoulder and his career destroyed?”

  “I’m just saying I don’t see why we have to go rescue him. We’re in the middle of our trip! We have three more weeks before we need to be back home. Can’t we just ... finish our trip and then go see him?” Lowell wanted nothing to do with Micah at all, but he figured he should probably at least try to compromise.

  “Dude, don’t be a dick. My friend got hurt, and he needs my help. I don’t think that’s asking too much,” Brent said, sounding irritated. “Whose road trip was this anyway? No, I’m not going to wait until the end of the summer. I’m going now.”

  “So Micah Warner says jump and you say how high?” Lowell snapped.

  Brent gave him a reproachful look. “You know that’s not it. Micah’s just in a really rough place right now, and he needs my help.”

  “If he were honest about himself and didn’t push everyone away, he wouldn’t be in that position!” Lowell pointed out.

  “Well, excuse me for being a little more sympathetic about a guy feeling like he has to stay in the closet because of his career,” Brent snarled. “I’m not going to see Micah to piss you off. I’m just trying to help out a friend.”

  “I get that, and if it were Nathan, I wouldn’t think twice about it,” Lowell said.

  “You seem to be taking this pretty personally.”

  “Micah has been nothing but an asshole to me. You know how much he hurt me. Why should I bend over backward to help him out? And which of us matters more to you, anyway?”

  Brent scowled. “Are you seriously giving me an ultimatum?”

  “I’m not giving you anything. I’m just pointing out how shitty it is for you to ditch me and go running to him.”

  “First of all, I don’t want to ditch you. I want you to come with me.”

  Lowell laughed hollowly. “You’re kidding, right? You want me to go sit by Micah Warner’s bedside and hold his goddamn hand? No. No fucking way.” Lowell began to pace. “Did you know that every single rumor that went around campus
about what a whore I am was started by him? I didn’t care about what anyone thought about me fucking jocks. That was true, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. But he started rumors that I was blackmailing guys to fuck me. I have a real fucking problem with that,” Lowell spat, getting more and more angry with every word.

  “I’m not saying Micah hasn’t fucked up!” Brent threw his arms up in the air. “I know he has. But please, just come with me, Lowell. You don’t have to see Micah or talk to him. You can hang out with Caleb and Nathan while I’m at the hospital. Just come with me to Chicago. Do it for me, not for Micah.”

  Lowell shook his head, every fiber of his being rebelling at the thought of rushing off to help the guy who’d hurt him so deeply.

  “You should have heard him on the phone, Lowell. He’s hit rock bottom, and he’s scared and hurting and lonely. I’m all he’s got until his family gets there.”

  “Well, then I guess you should go to him,” Lowell said coldly. “Just drop me off at the nearest hotel and leave. I’ll figure out how to get home.”

  Brent looked startled. “You want me to take your car?”

  “Well, I have the money to get where I need to be without it. Do you?”

  Brent flinched. It was a low blow, but Lowell felt a small stab of guilty pleasure from hurting him. It couldn’t begin to compare with how much Lowell was hurting at the moment.

  “If you’re sure ...” Brent said.

  “I’m sure.” Lowell turned on his heel and made a beeline for the campsite.

  June 29, 2013 – Houghton, Michigan

  Brent

  They packed up the site in silence and headed for Houghton. Lowell directed him to the hotel he’d found online, but nothing else was said aloud. It wasn’t until they were parked outside of it that Brent spoke at all.

  “Come on, Lowell. Don’t be ridiculous. Just come with me. Please.”

  Brent reached for him, but Lowell shrugged him off and shook his head, his throat too thick to speak. How had this all gone wrong? An hour ago, he’d been thinking about telling Brent how he felt and now ... now it was a mess.