The people that matter to us are the only ones we care about, and everyone is happy for us.
Even Austen’s parents are coming around, but I doubt I will ever be good enough for Pamela Hayes. Gary, Austen’s dad, has been warm and welcoming, but Austen’s mom only tolerates me. Her relationship with Gia’s mom has been strained since everything happened, and I know, deep down, she blames Austen. Which is so unfair, because it was never his fault.
Austen doesn’t speak to Gia anymore. What she did sank the nail in the coffin of their friendship. We both understand she was strung out on drugs and desperate, but there are some things you just can’t move past, no matter how much you might want to. In time, perhaps they can resume some kind of friendship, but it will never be what it was. Gia managed to get clean, graduating with her fine arts degree, and now she works in a gallery in Denver. Austen is happy she’s in a good place, but he doesn’t want to be around her anymore, and I respect and support his decision.
I suspect Austen accepted his parents’ olive branch purely for Orwell and Charlotte, because the strain within their family has caused a divide, and it’s been upsetting for his siblings, especially Charlotte. She’s fifteen and at an age where everything is uncertain, and she needs her big brother now more than ever. So, when Gary and Pamela invited us to dinner a few months ago, we went, putting aside our differences for Austen’s brother and sister.
I wish it was as easy with Kent, but my brother still refuses to speak to me. It’s been over two years since we talked, and I miss him.
I will never understand it, because he has completely shut me out, and he won’t speak to anyone else about it either. Not even Eva. He has distanced himself from the family, and I know it’s killing my parents. I’ve reached out several times, in an attempt to reconcile, because it hurts me too, and he’s ignored me every time.
I started sending him monthly texts recently, just to let him know I’m thinking of him, and I’m going to continue sending them even though I know he won’t reply. There isn’t anything more I can do.
“I do. I love your drama,” Austen agrees, sitting up and sliding my boxers down my legs. “Because I love every part of who you are and everything that comes with it.” His fingers trace over the design I finally got inked on my arm.
Austen has been training with a Baltimore tattoo parlor in his downtime, and one of the first things he did when we got back together was start inking his design on my skin. It’s been a painstakingly slow process, as Austen wanted to take his time ensuring he did it right, a bit at a time. Now that it’s finished, I can appreciate the care and attention to detail, and every time I look at the boat wheel and anchor on my arm, it reminds me of how lucky I am to have this second chance with the man of my dreams.
Of course, our fans went crazy when I revealed that the new ink on my arm was not only drawn by my boyfriend but lovingly inked by him too.
“I still get a boner every time I see this,” he admits, grinning as he unzips the sleeping bag to remove his boxers and grab the lube.
We haven’t used condoms since I moved into his penthouse apartment. We’re clean, in a committed relationship, and there is nothing like the feel of him sliding in me bare or how incredible it feels when I drive my uncovered dick in his ass.
There are zero barriers between us anymore. In every aspect of our lives. And I love it.
I’m fortunate that I can film my cooking show and conduct my business from anywhere, so when Austen asked me to move in—the morning after we got back together—I didn’t hesitate to agree. We’ve spent enough time apart, and I’ve enjoyed living with him again.
Our fans love that I film the show from our kitchen, and Austen makes the occasional impromptu appearance, which they go crazy for.
Colton moved out a couple months after I moved in, but neither of us put him under pressure to leave. Although we did our best to include him, I think he still felt like a third wheel, so when an apartment became available on the floor below, he put in an offer and moved out a couple weeks after it was accepted. Now, it’s the best of both worlds, because we still spend a lot of time with our friend, but we have complete privacy, so it’s a win-win.
And I love Baltimore. The people have made me feel very welcome, and most of Austen’s teammates have become good friends. Not everyone on the team is one hundred percent comfortable with having a gay player onboard, even if he is in a loving relationship, but they keep their thoughts to themselves, and as long as they don’t mistreat Austen, they are welcome to their silent narrow-mindedness.
“Of course, you do,” I tease, watching his big dick spring free when he kicks his boxers away. “Because you’re territorial as fuck.”
“Guilty as charged. I was thinking maybe you could draw something that I can get tattooed on me.” Austen crawls back under the sleeping bag, zipping it up.
“He wants me to brand him,” I quip as he covers my body with his.
“I do. I want the world to know I’m yours.”
I grab the back of his head. “They already do, man. But, if that’s what you want, we’ll do it. Though, I should warn you I can’t draw for shit.”
His lips kick up. “It can be something simple, and I honestly don’t care.” His mouth lands on mine, and we’re done talking. We make out like horny teenagers before we lube up, and then he’s sliding into my body as if it’s the first time.
Every time with Austen is as incredible as the first time we made love, and I know I’ll never get tired of him. It helps we both have a high sex drive, we’re both vers, and we like experimenting with toys and positions. I have the kind of sex life I’ve only ever dreamed about, and it’s all thanks to this man.
My eyes well up as Austen stares at me while plunging his cock in and out of my ass. His hand works my erection in sync with his thrusts, and it’s the combination of his focused gaze and his searing touch that unravels me, in the best possible way.
Sex with Austen Hayes is never just physical. It’s a connection I feel deep in my soul, and it only intensifies the more time we spend together and the closer we get. And still I crave more. Because he’s everything, and I never want to be without him.
As we come together, I wish the clock would fast forward, because I’m in a huge hurry to propose to my boyfriend.
***
“Okay, wow,” I say the following morning, standing beside my boyfriend at the edge of the mountain looking out at the most exquisite view. “Now I get why you like to camp here.” The scenery is to die for, and it’s so peaceful and calm up here. There isn’t a soul around, and it’s like we are the only two people in the world.
“Do you hear that?” Austen asks, looking at me. Wind blows strands of hair into his face, but it doesn’t disguise the look of sheer contentment and joy on his face.
“I do. The silence is beautiful.”
“I like to come here when I need to retreat from the world. In the past, I came here when I wanted all the noise in my head to stop. Up here, it’s hard to imagine any worries or fears. Being here always reminds me what’s important in life.” Austen takes my hand in his, squeezing it. “All I need is this. You.” He leans in, kissing me sweetly, and there will never be a more perfect moment.
When our kiss ends, I sink to one knee, pulling the box from my pants pocket.
Austen’s mouth drops open, and shock splays across his face.
“I know we’re young, and we still have so much living to do, but I already know you will be there, right by my side, for as long as there is breath in my body.”
Tears pool in my eyes when Austen gets down on one knee with me.
“I love you, Austen. I would not be the man I am today without you, and I don’t want to exist a single day on this planet without you by my side. Marry me, man. Be my husband.”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation, emotion spilling out of his eyes. “Yes, I want to be your husband. Nothing would make me happier than spending my life with you.”
; We fall into one another, kissing and kissing, and we’re both smiling and crying when we break apart. I slide the plain platinum band on his ring finger. “That’s a placeholder until the day we marry.”
“I love it. We need to get you a ring,” he says, lifting our conjoined hands to his mouth. He kisses the ring, and my heart melts.
“I’d like that.”
He pulls me to my feet, clasping my face in his hands. “Just so you know, I would have proposed. It’s been on my mind a lot since we got back together. You just beat me to it.”
I beam at him. “I’m glad I did.”
“I’m glad you did too.” He kisses me hard, and my heart is doing cartwheels behind my chest.
He said yes! I’m going to be married to this amazing man for the rest of my life. It feels surreal, and I’ve never been happier.
“Your mom is going to go crazy. Especially when she finds out we want to marry in June,” Austen says as we make our descent a couple of hours later. Neither of us wants a long engagement. Why bother waiting when we know our own minds and we have the resources to make it happen on short notice? We want to marry before the next football season starts, and we both love summer, so it’s a no-brainer.
“For real.” I lean over and kiss him. I haven’t been able to stop kissing and touching him since we got engaged. I’m giddy even thinking the word. “She’s been suffering wedding withdrawal symptoms since Kev and Cheryl tied the knot last year. You do know she’s going to completely take over?”
He chuckles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love your mom.”
“She loves you too.” Watching the burgeoning relationship between Mom and Austen has been heartwarming. They’ve grown close quick, and I’m hella grateful because Austen needs a mother figure who supports him wholeheartedly, without any strings or agenda, and he’s found that in Alex Kennedy. As if I needed other reasons to worship the ground Mom walks on.
He gets on well with the rest of the family too, and he’s fit in like he’s always been a part of the gang.
“Ciara and Cathal can be our flower girl and ring bearer,” I say, already visualizing our special day. “They’ll have just turned two, so we should be able to get them to focus long enough to walk up the aisle.”
Kyler and Faye had twins, and to say they have their hands full is an understatement. Those two toddlers have an abundance of energy and they never seem to sleep. My brother and his wife sport matching shadows under their eyes these days, but they also wear the biggest smiles. Faye has been wanting kids for a long time, so it seems fitting she ended up with twins, even if it’s double the work.
Rachel gave birth to her daughter, Elodie, one month after Faye prematurely delivered the twins. Brad whisked Rach away to Vegas six months later, and they were married with only their daughter and Faye and Ky and the twins in attendance. Mom insisted on throwing them a reception when they point-blank refused her offer to plan a full wedding. They didn’t want all the fuss, but we partied in style at the reception and made sure the occasion was celebrated in proper Kennedy fashion.
“We’ll involve all the kids,” Austen says. “We’ll find something special for each of them to do.”
All my nieces and nephews adore Austen. Hewson, in particular, has taken a real shine to my fiancé, and Austen has been teaching him some cool football skills.
“Pinch me, man,” I say when we reach the car, my grin threatening to explode across my face. “I’m getting married! I still can’t believe it, and I need to know this is real.”
Austen smiles, reeling me into his arms. “You and me are as real as it gets,” he says, brushing his nose against mine. “All you ever need to do is reach out and touch me, because I will always be by your side.”
“And I will always be by yours,” I confirm, because there is nowhere else I would ever be.
***
KENT
***
“Hey, you!” I barely lift my head, clicking my fingers in the direction of the bartender. I slam my empty glass down on the counter. “Another whiskey.”
Footsteps approach, and I raise my head fully, blinking repeatedly in an effort to focus on the blur in front of me.
“I think you’ve had enough,” a sultry, female voice says, sending shivers of awareness cascading down my spine.
“Where’s Ford?” I ask, still struggling to see clearly. “He always looks after me.”
“Unlucky for you, Ford went home. I’m behind the bar now, and I’m saying you’re done.”
Fumbling in my pockets, I extract my wallet and slap a hundred-dollar bill down on the counter. I slide it toward her. “I’m saying I’m not. Get me a whiskey, and you can keep the change.”
She pushes the money back at me, folding her arms across her chest.
My vision solidifies, and I stare at her awesome rack. She’s wearing a plain black T-shirt, but it’s tight, highlighting the generous swells of her tits.
“Your money’s no good here, Kennedy, and stop staring at my tits.”
My lips curl into a seductive smile of their own volition. “Your tits are awesome,” I say, examining her gorgeous face for the first time.
She has beautiful big, brown eyes, full lips, high cheekbones, and thick, long lashes that are the real deal. None of that fake, spidery shit for this girl. My eyes roam appreciatively over the rest of her. Ink adorns the inside of both her lower arms, and there’s a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the top of her shirt. Leaning forward, I peruse the rest of her body, really liking what I see. She’s wearing a short leather miniskirt with scuffed biker boots, and she’s rocking an incredible body, one I want to get acquainted with.
My dick turns to steel behind my jeans, and I lick my lips as I meet her disgusted gaze full on.
It doesn’t deter me.
It only spurs me on.
“You’re hot, and I’m horny. A perfect combination.” I stand, gripping the edge of the counter when I sway a little. Straightening up, I tower over her, flashing her the grin that makes countless women drop to their knees. “How about you bend over the counter, and I rock your world, baby.”
She laughs. “Holy shit. Does that crap really work on women?”
“All the fucking time,” I truthfully admit.
Her arm darts out, and she grabs a fistful of my shirt, yanking me toward her.
Hell yeah.
That’s more like it.
“Word to the wise, Kennedy. That shit won’t work on me. You won’t work on me. Quit while you’re ahead.” She lets me go, stepping back. “And you’re cut off. Go home.”
This woman doesn’t realize it, but she’s just thrown down the gauntlet. I cannot remember the last time a woman rejected me, and my blood is ON. FIRE. “What’s your name, beautiful?” I ask, undeterred.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re drunk, Kennedy. Go home. Trust me, it’s in your best interest. This isn’t the type of place you should be hanging around anyway.”
“I like it here,” I reply. “Even more now I’ve met you.”
She shakes her head while drying a few glasses. “Not happening, Kennedy. And if you won’t go home, I’ll have Bugger throw you out.”
“Bugger?” I ask, frowning.
She points over my head. “That big motherfucker at the door. One whistle, and he’ll haul your ass outside.”
“I’ll leave,” I say, leaning my elbows on the counter. “On one condition.”
Her lips twitch as she rolls her eyes again. “It’s cute you think you hold any bargaining power here. I’m the bar manager on duty, and what I say goes.”
“Your name,” I say. “Just tell me your name, and I’ll leave with no trouble.”
“Why the hell does it matter?” she asks, placing the dry glasses on the shelf behind her head.
“Because I want to know.”
She smirks, leaning her elbows on the counter so we’re face to face with barely any distance between us. “And I bet you always get what you want. Am I right?�
�
I shrug, flashing her another one of my trademark smiles.
I get no reaction.
Not even a flinch or a blink of her eye.
“Just tell me your name.”
She straightens up. “No.” She grabs a cloth, wiping down the counter. “Go home, Kennedy. I won’t tell you again.”
“Pres, is this guy bothering you?” a gruff voice says from behind me. I glance over my shoulder, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s Bugger, and he’s even bigger in the flesh. But I’m not worried. I’ve got enough shit flowing through my veins to be completely unconcerned.
I grin, straightening up. “Pres?” I arch a brow at her in question.
“Presley. You need me to kick this asshole out?” Bugger asks, telling me exactly what I want to know.
Presley groans, pursing her lips. “I have it handled. Get back to the door.”
He shuffles off, and I stand there grinning like a loon. “Presley. I like it. Were your parents big Elvis fans or something?”
She rolls her eyes again, and if she keeps doing it, she’ll give herself eye strain. “Like I haven’t heard that a million times.” She leans into me again, and I silently fist pump the air when her gaze rakes me from head to toe. She might feign disinterest, but I know when a broad wants me, and Presley wants every inch of this body.
“Liking what you see, babe?”
She snorts. “How original. You got my name. Now, be a man of your word. And leave.”
I grab my jacket from the back of the bar stool. “I’ll go, but this isn’t the last you’ve seen of me, Presley baby.” I blow her a kiss and walk off.
And for the first time in a long time, something, or someone, has pulled my head out from under the black hole I’ve been living in.
Presley thinks she’s immune to my charms.
I can’t wait to prove her wrong.
Adoring Keaton: A Stand-Alone Friends-to-Lovers MM Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 9) Page 31