Boy on a Train: The All American Boy Series

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Boy on a Train: The All American Boy Series Page 9

by Leslie McAdam


  Wren organized the sugar packets so they all faced the same way while I sipped on a root beer and doodled an outfit on a paper placemat. “I can’t believe we’re almost done with school. It’s just … over,” she said.

  “Almost. After tomorrow night.” Our graduation would be Friday evening, and I both looked forward to it and dreaded it.

  “Isn’t it weird, though?”

  “It feels anticlimactic. I hope I don’t cry, though. That would be awful.”

  Mrs. Namuang stopped by our booth and set down our food. Wren had a bowl of soup while I had pad Thai and fries.

  “Thanks,” I said. “This looks tasty.”

  “Are you girls doing okay? I mean with life, not just with lunch?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Wren said. “We’re just commiserating about graduation.”

  “Oh, it’s a very important time,” she said, a faraway look in her eyes. “Getting a diploma is a rite of passage. I am very proud of my daughter and you. It’s an accomplishment.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” I said, doing my best to be polite, but wanting to dig into my lunch. “I think we’re going to miss people from school though. For years we’ve been with them, and now it will be just … nothing.”

  “You’re going to see everyone anyway,” she said. “Nobody really leaves Merlot. Not really.”

  “That’s depressing,” Wren said.

  “It’s a place to come back to after you go away,” Mrs. Namuang said. “You need a home just as much as you need to know more about the world. You will see.” She nodded gravely and walked off.

  I turned to Wren. “That’s the problem, though.” I sighed. “I’m not gonna get to see more about the world for a long time. No Eurorail for me.”

  She gave me a sympathetic smile. “But you could be riding a train, right? Did you get the job on the wine train?”

  I nodded. “They hired me almost immediately. I guess they’re short-staffed and are going to be busy this summer. Plus my references were a caterer, a teacher, and a firefighter, so that looked decent.” Sandra Lemieux, my English teacher, and my dad’s coworker were the first people I could think of as references. “I have training starting late next week.”

  “Cool! I’m glad. Let me know how it goes. I hope you like it. Allen Chen works there. Remember him? He was a senior when we were freshmen.”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s a sweetie. I would’ve thought he’d go away for college.”

  “Nope. Or maybe he just works here in summers? I’m not sure.”

  “Ugh!” I whined. “People come here and never get out.”

  “You will,” she assured me. “Eventually.” Then a wicked gleam came over her face. “Soooo. We haven’t talked. How’s it going with Tate?”

  “Fine.”

  She wouldn’t let me get away with that answer. “Have you kissed him properly?”

  I grinned and took a bite of noodles.

  “Excellent,” she said, clapping her hands. “Have you decided to let him deflower you?”

  My hands flew up toward her face to shut her mouth, and she giggled. “Oh my god, keep your voice down. But yes.”

  “Well, well. That’s exciting.” She sipped a spoonful of broth. “Does Tate know this?”

  I flushed. “We haven’t exactly talked about it. I told him we could do whatever, though, so I think he gets the picture.”

  “Just make sure you talk to him, okay?” The concern in her face was unmistakable. “I mean, I want you to own your sexuality, but I also don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “With Tate? Never. He’s such a perfect gentleman.”

  “Really? I’d have thought he’d be sexy.”

  “He is,” I said wistfully. I lowered my voice. “We finally made out for the first time, and it was awesome.”

  “I’m not gonna ask you for the highlight reel. But did you like it?”

  I nodded.

  “You do you, boo boo. But if you don’t want to do him, you know you don’t have to.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I really, really want to.”

  “Don’t get, like, obsessed with it, okay?”

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I won’t.” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m just hoping to get some experience in before he leaves for college. I told my mom I’d stay home for a year.”

  The thought made my chest tight and a headache start to brew.

  “Have you talked with him about that?”

  I shook my head.

  She glared at me. “Why not? He deserves to have some say in this.”

  “What can he say, though? He can’t fix my mom.”

  “But maybe he could work something out with you where you go visit him. You don’t have to dump him at the end of summer.”

  “Is it fair to him to ask him to be long-distance? What if he resents me?”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  I shrugged, helpless. “I’ll ask him, okay?”

  “Make it soon. Someone is going to get their heart broken. He will, or you will. Or maybe you both will. And I don’t want that to happen.”

  “I don’t have a choice, Wren. I really like him. I don’t want to stay away from him. He says he likes me. But I can’t leave my mom.” I felt my eyes start to well up with tears. “Tate is selfless. I’m scared he’ll choose me, and I’m scared he won’t. Neither choice is acceptable.”

  She clucked at me. “I think there’s a lot more to it than that.”

  And I feared she was right.

  A few hours later, I wrestled the new wheelchair out of the back of Dad’s truck and awkwardly helped Mom get in. We’d practiced at home, but it was still difficult. Her brand new wheelchair had come just yesterday—Dad said it was a saga with paperwork and insurance—and it had given her more mobility, but it was also a reminder that the disease was progressing rapidly. I hated watching her get more and more frail. Maybe it had been sneaking up on us for a while and I hadn’t noticed. Maybe I’d intentionally ignored the signs because I didn’t want to process the changes. All the quiet conversations between my parents. The increased doctor’s appointments. The prescriptions. The activities my mom couldn’t do as well as she could before.

  I couldn’t ignore them anymore.

  The wheelchair also reminded me that this was serious. So did the new parking placard. Mom needed me.

  When we approached the reception desk to check in, I faced a familiar and very unwelcome face.

  “Jade,” I said. “Hey.” I faked nonchalance.

  I’d forgotten that Jade Lopez’s mom practiced in the same office as my mom’s doctor. And apparently since the last time I’d been here, Jade had been hired as a receptionist. Great.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text. I didn’t pull it out.

  “Audrey,” she said with what I took to be faux surprise. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though, if she saw my mom’s name on the appointment list. But maybe she didn’t put the two together. Or maybe she was showing off for my mom. “Welcome, Mrs. Staunton.”

  Jade clicked a few keys on her computer and told us Mom’s copay, which my mother handed over.

  “So,” Jade said cattily. “I guess Tate talks to you.”

  “Yeah. He’s always been my friend.” Or now something more.

  “I think he’s ignoring me.”

  I don’t care, Jade. I don’t.

  But I didn’t want to be mean to her.

  “So, Audrey. What are you doing this summer?” She pretended she was interested in me.

  I did not want to chitchat with Jade Lopez. “Working. Helping my mom.” Making plans to take off my clothes while Tate takes off his clothes and rub myself all over his body.

  “Audrey got a job on the wine train,” my mom volunteered, and I almost groaned. I didn’t want Jade knowing anything about me.

  “Oh? For the summer?” Jade asked innocently.

  “Yeah. At least.”

  “When are you leaving for school?”

  Of
course she knew I was supposed to go to New York. The school was small, and we all knew each other’s plans.

  I didn’t want to admit anything to Jade, but my mom did it for me. “Audrey’s going to stay in town for the next year and defer the Fashion Institute of Technology. Once her dad retires, she can go. For now she’s going to help me, so I’m sure she’ll see you a lot more often.”

  I bit my tongue.

  All Jade said was, “Interesting.”

  The nurse opened the door and invited my mom back. I followed her.

  I leaned into my mom’s ear. “Mom, I haven’t told Tate yet. Can you please not tell people my plans until I tell him?”

  Her face dropped. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Of course.”

  We got into the exam room, and I pulled up my texts.

  Tate: I have family in town this weekend. My parents and brothers are going to take them into San Francisco to see Ghirardelli Square and other tourist stuff, but I begged off

  Tate: Wanna come over?

  Alone time with Tate with no one around. I didn’t have to think twice.

  Audrey: Yes

  And then I spent the entire appointment wondering what exactly we’d get up to when alone.

  Ten

  Don't You Dare Stop

  Tate

  Holy shit. I’d get Audrey all to myself this weekend with no one to interrupt us.

  That almost got my dick hard just thinking about it.

  Her text felt off, though. No smiley faces or emojis. No enthusiasm. Just, “Yes.”

  But I’d take it.

  Somehow, even though the world had changed for me and I had a girlfriend for the first time in my life, time marched on. We made it through Friday, the last day of school.

  Before the ceremony that evening, I took pictures with Audrey in our caps and gowns, and we all clapped hard for her when she walked across the stage. My grandma and the rest of my family watched me stand up in a thin black gown and a cheesy cardboard hat covered in fabric and receive a piece of paper with my name on it.

  We all graduated.

  I didn’t see much of Audrey after the ceremony, since she was doing her own thing with her parents. My extended family had come to celebrate, and my mom catered the fuck out of it.

  All I could think about, for the first time, was that I really was biding my time to get Audrey naked this weekend.

  No, that sounded wrong. I wasn’t biding my time. I’d never bide my time.

  But I knew that she and I wanted to do more, and since Black Bishop, we’d only had a few stolen kisses and hasty make out sessions in my truck.

  So on Saturday when my whole family was out, she drove her dad’s old truck over and knocked on my door.

  “Hey,” I said.

  We were all alone.

  “Hey,” she said, a timid look on her face.

  We couldn’t have that.

  I pulled her into my house and kissed her thoroughly in the hallway.

  Then we grinned at each other.

  I picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around me as I kissed her all the way down the hall to my bedroom. All natural, like we’d done that before. When we got to my room, I closed the door, locked it, set her down, and gazed at her.

  Summer sun didn’t touch her fair skin. Even though it was the weekend, she wore houndstooth shorts and a button-down top as if we were still in school, because that was Audrey.

  She sat on the edge of my bed, her hands gripping the dark gray comforter. The Black Keys played softly, and to be honest, the tunes were kinda sexy music.

  But Audrey looked nervous, biting on her lip, her shoulders clenched up.

  And that made my next move easy.

  We weren’t doing anything. Not until she was ready.

  I knelt before her, my shoulders between her legs and my hands on her thighs. I gazed up at her, wanting to reassure her.

  “Hey,” I said softly.

  “Hey.” Her expression was hard to read. Confusion? Desire? Fear? Comfort and discomfort all at once?

  “We don’t have to do anything. I promise.”

  The condoms in my drawer were wishful thinking on my part, and she didn’t need to be pressured into anything.

  “I know,” she said, and sighed.

  That sigh meant no.

  So I started crab-walking backwards on my knees to give her some space, figuring I’d put a movie on my laptop, but she grabbed me and tugged me up to her.

  I stumbled and ended up hovering over her, my hips between her legs and my hands braced on the bed. She put her hands on my cheeks and brought me in for a kiss. I went gladly and kissed her softly as her legs wrapped around my ass.

  “I take it you want me to—” I started, and she clutched me tighter, moaning into my kiss. The quiet moan wasn’t fake.

  I made her feel that way.

  “Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Feeling brave, I moved a hand up her front from her waist and cupped one breast over her shirt.

  One perfect breast.

  “This okay?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  Maybe we’d just go slow. I decided to follow her lead.

  I adored her breasts, the softness so unlike my own body. Her whole body was unlike mine.

  And—er—so unlike the fruit I’d practiced on.

  Our tongues tangled, and I found myself grinding into her. She didn’t seem to mind. Actually, she seemed to be into it.

  “This okay?” I asked against her mouth.

  “Stop asking me if it’s okay. It is.”

  “I want to be sure—”

  “Tate, I trust you. Know that. Who else would take years to kiss me? Only you. But we don’t have time anymore, and you don’t have to hold back anymore. Not with me.”

  I pulled back and tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we don’t need to wait years anymore.”

  There was something she wasn’t telling me. Something I was missing.

  Her movements took on a desperate quality, like she was trying to urge me on before I could say no, and I warred with myself. All I’d ever wanted was to be with her. But I also wanted to do things right. With her under me like this, I didn’t know if I’d be able to take my time because I wanted her so fucking badly.

  But I’d wanted her forever. I could wait a little longer.

  Apparently that wasn’t her plan, however, given how she gripped my dick through my jeans and gave a long, decadent stroke.

  “Fuck,” I hissed.

  I started kissing down her neck, inhaling the strawberry scent of her thick hair and the almond scent of her skin.

  She leaned into the bed away from me, and I got confused. Then she unbuttoned her shirt and whipped it off, and I was in love and lust all over again.

  Her lacy bra was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, although she could’ve worn a dingy cotton bra, and I’d have loved it.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I murmured against her collarbone, kissing it. I reached back to the collar of my T-shirt and tugged it over my head. She eyed my torso with appreciation.

  I pressed my body to hers, and now we were warm skin on warm skin, and oh god more please.

  I didn’t know if I trusted myself to do more. Or if I should do anything more than kiss her and feel her up.

  But she started fumbling with the button on my pants, and I looked at her in surprise. “We don’t need to rush.”

  “I want you.” Her simple words hit me somewhere deep. She bit her lip, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

  I started tugging on her shorts, but she reached down, unzipped, and slid them off.

  She lay on my bed in nothing but her bra and underwear, her long, wild hair spread out like she’d already been debauched. Just like in my fantasies.

  “Please,” she whispered and beckoned me to come on top of her.

  I didn’t know what to do first. I decided to admit this to her. Because I could tell her anyt
hing.

  So I whispered in her ear, “I want to be a sex god, but I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.”

  She smiled, and for the first time, she seemed relaxed. She stroked the top of my head with care. “That very thing—the fact that you tell me you don’t know what you’re doing—is what makes you a sex god. Because all that matters is that you listen to me. Truly. Everything else, we’ll figure out. I just want to figure it out with you.”

  “I did some homework,” I admitted. And I reached off to the side and pulled out the book.

  Her breath intake was sharp, her eyes shrewd and calculating with some mischief behind them. “I can’t wait to see what you learned.”

  I slid the straps of her bra down her shoulders, and she reached behind her to unhook it in the back.

  Then she was topless, and I almost fainted. Those red nipples needed to be sucked, so I did. I kissed each in turn, then headed to her navel, kissing a path downward.

  She struggled to sit up and see me. “What are you doing?”

  I looked up at her from where I lay between her legs, my nose just below her bellybutton. “Want me to stop?”

  “No. Just. I’ve never done that before.” She threw her arm over her eyes.

  I smiled and kissed her skin. “Me neither, but I’m dying to try. You good?”

  She nodded vigorously, and I scooted down and kissed her between her legs over her panties. I inhaled her scent and had never been this turned on before. You couldn’t smell porn—probably a good thing—and she didn’t smell like the peaches I’d practiced on. Obviously. But I liked it a hell of a lot.

  I kissed her pelvic bones and pulled her underwear off, then stepped back, just looking at her. She tried to hide herself with her arms, but I stopped her.

  “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please let me see you. Let me remember this for the rest of our lives.”

  Her smile fell, and I didn’t know why. I decided she needed affection. I crawled up her body, kissed her one more time on the lips, and drew her into my arms for a hug.

  She clung to me.

  Then she whispered, “Thanks. I really do trust you. And I want this.”

  I bent down to rub my nose against hers, and then we started kissing ravenously, like we couldn’t get enough.

 

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