The Sweetest Goodbye (Roadmap to Your Heart, Book 3.5)

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The Sweetest Goodbye (Roadmap to Your Heart, Book 3.5) Page 6

by Christina Lee


  Grammy had a mix of family and friends at each setting. But at the main table she had arranged Dean and Callum at the head, beside Mr. Montgomery and Dean’s folks. Cassie was also seated there with Dermot. Braden and his new girlfriend were at one of the other tables, along with Billie and me, as if we were a matched set.

  Callum and Dean were wearing the sashes that Grammy supplied that read, Groom and their friends got a kick out of it. Dean quipped that he needed Tate’s crown, but Tate kept it planted firmly on his head, atop his purple hair. I couldn’t help staring at Tate and his boyfriend, Sebastian, in his finely tailored suit, because they seemed so worldly and I just felt like a hick, even in my nicer duds.

  Mr. Montgomery was a man of few words, so when he stood and made a toast to Callum and Dean’s happiness, Grammy, Billie and his siblings seemed equally surprised and choked up. Billie dipped his head maybe making a silent wish that his daddy would be as accepting of him. It was something he’d struggled with his entire life—winning his father’s approval.

  Afterward, I could tell Grammy needed all the extra hands she could get, so Billie and I helped serve the salads as well as the main course of chicken, fish, and venison, fresh from the preserve.

  It was nearly dusk by the time the gifts were opened and the delicious cake—with two groomsmen on top—was served. I finally sat down to enjoy a slice of Billie’s pie, making small talk with Tate and Sebastian in the process. I really enjoyed them and almost wished I had been the one to visit the city with Billie. But at the time, the idea of it felt bitter in my mouth. I should’ve known Leo would disappoint him.

  Once we helped clear the tables and most of the guests had left, the remaining family and friends stayed to visit on the porch with some sweet tea and Dermot’s homemade wine—which tasted more like strong moonshine.

  Braden had gone down to the fire pit to get a good blaze started and soon enough, Callum, Dean, Jason, and Brian had joined him. The rest of the guests made their way toward the flames as if entranced and Billie played some classic rock tunes on the stereo, which made for the perfect background on this warm and relaxing night. I was grateful to be part of it, like I had been so many times before.

  I sat beside Sebastian and Billie was on the other side of Tate, and when I caught Dean’s gaze across the fire he smiled in a lazy sort of way. He looked so content to be part of this family, even though Billie had shared the story countless times of how he and Callum were like oil and vinegar when they first met.

  “So Billie mentioned when he stayed with us in the city that you had hoped to attend Julliard?” Sebastian asked in a hushed voice. Billie had mentioned me on his trip to meet Leo in New York City? I guess it made sense, but it still surprised me.

  My gaze darted to Billie and away, as he spoke animatedly to Callum’s friend Jason. “That’s right. Unfortunately, my dad decided being gay didn’t fit his alcoholic lifestyle, so he kicked me out on my ass to fend for myself.”

  I couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped from my lips remembering the endless string of nights in shelters, on friends’ couches, or in barns and haylofts. But this was neither the time nor place to have such a discussion. There was a long pause where I held my breath and Sebastian seemed to consider my words. “Not sure if Callum ever mentioned it, but I was homeless once too.”

  I numbly shook my head because that information shocked me. Afraid I had brought up a terrible time in his life I opened my mouth to change the subject, but before I could do so he added, “Thank God we’re both survivors.”

  I had never seen myself in quite that light, but I guess he was right. I had done what was necessary to earn a meager living and find a place to live. Billie and his family had helped a ton and I owed them a lot. But Sebastian seemed so much more than that in his fancy clothes such a long way from his worldly lifestyle. I wasn’t even on the same playing field with my basement apartment and pseudo-career.

  “So what now?” Sebastian asked. “If that was your dream, do you still dance?”

  My cheeks immediately grew hot as shame attempted to take hold. But I tamped it down. “I…uh, dance at a club. Best I could do around here.”

  “I get it,” he replied in a warm voice and I wondered just what he’d had to do in his life to get by.

  “But this guy at work—Aaron—he also belongs to a community theatre and he told me to audition for this musical they have coming up.” I didn’t know why I brought it up except that I was excited and wanted to prove to him, and maybe to myself, that I was working toward something. “So I’ve been putting together a two minute dance routine for next week.”

  When I looked up Billie’s wide eyes were fixed on me. “How come you never told me that?”

  “If you’d get over the fact that I dance for horny men who stick dollar bills in my shorts,” I motioned with my hands, forgetting myself and where I was in that moment, “maybe I would’ve told you.”

  The whole circle around the fire grew silent. Well, fuck. I averted my eyes because I did not want to see Grammy’s reaction. Thankfully, Tate was there to break the tension. “I think I’ve found my soul twin. Why haven’t you told me more about him, Billie? He’s perfect.”

  Billie blushed furiously while I stared at the dirt and toed at some stones. A minute later, everybody returned to whatever conversation they were having, my outburst forgotten.

  We hung out until close to midnight and the first to head to bed were Grammy and Mr. Montgomery. Jason was looking a bit drunk and drowsy and I figured they would be next to leave the festivities.

  “Thanks for all of your help, Dylan,” Grammy said in my ear and then kissed the top of my head. “You should stay in one of the spare rooms, like old times.”

  I didn’t know how many countless nights I ended up on this property trying to make it through high school graduation and not eat out of a trash can, but I’d be eternally grateful.

  “Maybe I will.” I knew that I wouldn’t, but I didn’t want her to fret about me getting home so late after a long day and a few drinks.

  At least somebody worried about me. I avoided Billie’s questioning gaze.

  As Tate and Sebastian said their goodbyes, they hugged me, and Sebastian told Billie to bring me along for a visit. “Or come by yourself. You’re always welcome.” Tate looked pointedly at me and winked, as if aware of some secret I wasn’t privy to.

  We helped Dean and Callum transport some of their gifts to their new home near Callum’s workshop, closer to the road. It still needed some finishing touches, but damned if I wouldn’t mind living there in a heartbeat.

  “Want to go visit Gus?” Billie asked after we said our good-nights.

  “Sure,” I replied, glad we were acting back to normal after everything that had transpired between us in the past twenty-four hours. We walked to the field near the orchard and sat down in the grass by a large oak tree waiting to see if Gus would grace us with an appearance. The night air was cool, and the stars looked brilliant. Billie didn’t follow astronomy quite as much as he did as a kid, but every now and again, I’d overhear him and Dean discussing space-time continuum or some shit. Dean worked in a science lab at the university and I supposed Billie could’ve gone either way, but baking had won out.

  “Dylan,” Billie began as he fidgeted with his hands. “I…I don’t want you to think…I want you to be able to tell me things. I’m sorry I’ve been a shit.”

  “Nah.” I lay back in the cool grass so I could get a better view of the sky. “I overreacted. It’s all cool.”

  “I just—I hope you know I believe in you and I want you to be happy,” he said, leaning back to lie alongside me, as Bullseye rested his head on Billie’s thigh. “Do whatever you have to do to make that happen. Even if you have to leave me, too.”

  My breath caught as I met his gaze. “You drama king. Leave you? Please.”

  “Could happen, you never know,” he mumbled, his cheeks growing pink, before he finally relaxed beside me.

  We l
ay in silence for several long minutes, just breathing the same air and lost in our own thoughts. The stark truth of Billie’s confession reminded me how fragile his heart had remained despite all the blessings surrounding him.

  Little did he know mine was even more breakable. One more gust of wind and it might collapse like a house of cards. I couldn’t dream of leaving him and I wondered if that blinding devotion had become my biggest weakness.

  “I’m tired. Grammy mentioned me crashing in Callum’s old room.” I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “You cool with that?”

  “Of course.” It was late as we made our way back to the house; the only light tracking our path came from the kitchen entryway and I couldn’t wait to be facedown in some cool sheets.

  Cassie and her husband had retreated to her childhood bedroom, which was the first door on the left. When we turned to Callum’s old room across the hall, Billie jiggled the handle, but the lock was secured and we heard voices behind the wall.

  “Think maybe Jason and Brian stayed over?” Billie whispered. “He did seem a bit sloshed.”

  “Probably,” I said around a yawn. I turned toward the kitchen to make my way out to my truck. “S’okay. The drive isn’t far.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Billie scolded and then grabbed my arm. “C’mon.”

  He half dragged me down the hall and swung open the door to his bedroom. “It’s not like you’ve never slept here before. Let’s go to bed.”

  A shiver ran through me at his words, but I straightened my spine, determined not to wimp out. Or rather, whimper, as his large and inviting bed stared back at me.

  11

  Billie

  This time having Dylan in my room—in my bed—felt different. He looked pretty wiped, but pinpricks of heat licked over my entire body as we stripped to our boxers and fell into the soft sheets, barely giving each other a second glance. Bullseye had trouble getting up on the bed anymore unless I lifted him so I made him a spot on the floor near the headboard. Lately he’d been pacing in the middle of the night as if he couldn’t quite get settled. But tonight he lay down immediately, most likely because it had been a busy day.

  The room grew quiet as Dylan and I lay breathing side by side and the air felt thick with tension. But a couple of minutes later his breaths smoothed out and I figured he’d fallen asleep. I turned on my side to watch him by the light of the moon, but was surprised to find he was still awake, though his eyes were narrow slits.

  He carefully twisted toward me on his pillow and we stared unabashedly at each other. He gazed at my mouth and into my eyes and I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly, my fingertips tingled.

  I couldn’t help wondering what his lips would taste like after his mouth had been on my neck and cock and I wasn’t sure if he was thinking the same thing or if maybe he was wondering if this was a bad idea.

  It was such a strange feeling thinking of him this way…but then, maybe it wasn’t. We’d grown close over the years, worked every day together and lately, we’d done some intimate things I never would’ve dreamed of. So maybe this was only a natural progression. At least I told myself it was.

  All at once Dylan’s hand reached up to trace along my jaw and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. I held my breath as his fingers brushed over my cheek and forehead and then down to outline my lips. My chest pounded so hard that it ached with anticipation and visceral longing.

  I thought back to those early days with Leo and how I was desperate for any kind of touch from him and this felt like the same kind of thing. Yet different. I was completely and utterly hot for my best friend, there could be no other explanation and I didn’t know what the hell to do with that realization.

  Not only because I had been saving myself for Leo, but because Dylan wasn’t a person who took relationships seriously. Relationship? Listen to me. This was probably lust, plain and simple.

  “You’re going to make him happy,” Dylan rasped as if reading my thoughts. His voice and words startled me in the still of the night and I grew even more motionless. “You’d make anybody happy.”

  My chest ballooned to a crescendo. “What about you?” I croaked out.

  “What about me?” he asked, gently brushing the hair back from my forehead.

  “Who would make you happy?” Even forming the words had somehow made my heart crack in pieces, but I couldn’t quite understand why.

  His breath stuttered as he stared hard at me. Finally, he said, “Me. I’ll make myself happy. That’s all I need.”

  My body ached so badly, I wanted to throw my arms around him and crush him with the weight of my yearning. I wanted to say, Need me—please need me.

  Dylan hesitantly leaned forward and kissed my forehead. The feel of his soft lips nearly did me in. He lingered for a moment longer and then pulled back. “Good night.”

  When he settled into the sheets and closed his eyes, I watched him for what felt like an eternity, all kinds of emotions and sensations bombarding me at once.

  I didn’t know what finally made me do it but I sat up on one elbow and inched closer to him. I imagined fitting my mouth to his lips, my hands to his cheeks. My fingers ghosted his face like he’d done to me earlier.

  Dylan’s eyes sprang open. “What are you doing?”

  “I…I don’t know.” My cheeks warmed to boiling point. “I just…you’re so beautiful and I never realized it before.”

  His eyebrows knit together. “Gee, thanks.”

  “No, silly,” I said with a laugh as his eyes narrowed comically. “I mean beautiful—inside and out. You’re giving and loyal and decent. You need somebody to make you happy too.”

  The space between us filled with suffocating silence as we stared each other down. My chest felt so damn heavy it was as if my feelings and words were suspended in mid-air.

  “You make me happy,” he finally whispered with a sigh.

  My chest rumbled and a low moan slipped out of my mouth.

  Suddenly Dylan was right there; he clutched at my face, pulling me toward him. Our mouths melding as one, fitting together so perfectly.

  He angled his head to fully seize my lips and he tasted like Dermot’s sweet wine. When his fingers gripped my hair, he moaned. A moan that vibrated through my bones. His tongue slipped out to sample my lips and all at once it was inside my mouth, sweeping over my teeth and gums with deeply probing flicks. I melted into him, giving myself over completely to the sensation.

  I adjusted my torso to position myself fully on top of him from heart to hip. As soon as our bodies aligned it was as if a live wire had been activated inside all of my nerve endings. Our penetrating kisses turned frantic and desperate as our hands explored and grasped and our legs tangled.

  His fingers traced down my ribcage and beneath my waistband, stripping me of my boxers. My fingers blindly tugged his loose until we were finally skin to skin from our chests to our knees. And Christ, the feel of his hot and stiff cock resting heavily against mine nearly made me explode on contact.

  “Holy fuck,” I grunted against his mouth. His dick was long and thick and I wanted to see it. So damn badly.

  “Will,” Dylan mumbled, kissing my chin and throat and then up to my ear, his mouth searing my skin as he went. He pulled back, his fingers rushing down to encircle my cock. “Let me make you feel good.”

  “No,” I gasped and he froze. “Not this time. I want to touch you. I need to fucking touch you.”

  I pushed away from his mouth and sat up to gaze into his warm eyes. They were glassy and full and I didn’t know why he seemed so emotional, except that I was too. This was all too surreal.

  But before I could overthink it, my hands went to work, touching every inch of him I could reach, from the top of his head down his chest and arms. Exploring his hips and legs and heels, appreciating his dancer’s body as he trembled in the wake of my fingers.

  I sucked his nipples into my mouth one by one, savoring his salty, spicy scent and as my tongue brushed over his stomach it conv
ulsed. “Goddamn.”

  On my knees at his waist, I leaned over and licked the entire length of his dick, tasted his musk, savoring his velvet skin and the sensuous noises bursting from his throat. I circled the underside of the crown and then took him inch by glorious inch into my mouth, appreciating every last centimeter of his gorgeous cock.

  Fuck, it had been way too long since I felt this way—eager and desperate to please somebody.

  Dylan was grunting and gasping and his fingers were in my hair and brushing over the knobs in my spine. When his palm landed on my cheek he clutched and squeezed. It felt so sensuous to have somebody touch my ass again that I nearly arched off the bed. His fingers eased along the crease to my hole. My cock was leaking and so rigid I could pound nails with it. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

  “Good. It’s mutual,” he croaked and then I heard him suck on one of his fingers, getting it nice and wet.

  As I continued lapping at him his hand was back in my crease and he prodded a finger against my hole. “So damn tight.”

  After my muscle loosened enough for him to push inside me, he began pumping in time with my mouth. When his digit curved up and hit my prostate, the room went fuzzy. I whimpered around his shaft as he hit that spongy place over and over again and I sucked him with all that I had.

  “Will.” My name burst from his throat in one long syllable as his entire body shuddered and I felt his come coat the roof of my mouth. It was so fucking sexy that I could no longer hold back. His finger was still in my ass, my mouth engulfing his cock, and I came in a rush all over his thigh.

  After another minute of inhaling roughly through my nose, I withdrew his softened cock from my lips and collapsed onto the sheets trying in vain to catch my breath. Holy fucking Christ.

  He had reached for a shirt on the floor and wiped us up as I lay comatose beside him. “Billie, you…I…”

 

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