And in the middle of it all was Reese.
Damn, his boy looked good. Hair a little shorter and rarely in his face these days. Skinny dark blue jeans and the tight Rolling Stones T-shirt with Mick Jagger’s Union Jack’d tongue. Reese swore he only wore it because it made Tom think of blowjobs.
This was true.
The smile that slid over Reese’s mouth when he stood facing Tom could only be called wicked. “Oh, we are so gonna do it on that window seat.”
All the blood in Tom’s body rushed to his crotch as he pictured that. He didn’t know how they’d manage it, but was pretty sure it was going to involve him bent over something and he was so, so on board with that idea. He imagined looking out over the green from their fourth floor suite and wondering if anyone could see them while Reese slid hand up his naked back until his fingers were buried in Tom’s hair. Heat balled in his stomach. He was letting it grow, because Reese played with his hair more when it was longer and Reese’s hands in his hair made Tom shiver.
He still had a hard time believing they were here, together, in this luxurious new dorm on the Green. The one the school put on the front of brochures to lure potential students and their parents into dropping the equivalent of an entire mortgage on a bachelor’s degree.
The honeymoon period after their snuggle on the Green had lasted all of five days.
Tom’s announcement that he’d found a studio apartment in Dorchester to sublet for the summer had not been received well. Getting back together with your boyfriend apparently meant that decisions about where you were going to live for three months weren’t to be made without any discussion. Especially decisions that meant camping out in grotty, un-air conditioned attics instead of staying with the Anders. That argument had lasted a week and only ended when Tom realized Reese wasn’t going to back down.
“Even that shitty studio will cost you thousands over the summer, between rent and utilities.” Reese’s jaw had flexed and Tom had seen it, because they had these conversations in the daylight now. “You stay with us. Save your money and drive a reasonable number of hours. If you stay there, I never see you and at the end of the summer you have no cushion.”
“I can’t have sex with you with your dad in the house. Seriously.” It wasn’t the best reason for renting an apartment of his own, but accepting help was still awkward and weird and made his skin crawl with unease and the weight of obligation.
“I can wait.” He’d glared at Tom’s bark of disbelieving laughter. “And we can send my dad to the movies.”
They’d managed. Tom still sometimes drove for too many hours, when he felt himself needing to exert some kind of control over his world. He’d drive all night and show up at dawn, crawling into bed just as Reese left it for his summer internship. There were daytime arguments and lots of snuggling on the couch and very little sex. But they’d managed to make it through the entire summer until it was time to pack up his car and head west on the Mass Pike to their new home.
On campus.
The light lit up Reese like a halo as they smiled at each other.
“I love you.” It was easy to say. Now.
Tom had learned that it mattered. Saying the words. The words weren’t enough, in and of themselves, and actions mattered too, but after Reese had sat him down and explained a few things, he got it better about it. And, learning how the words lit Reese up like a candle, he’d started to look for it. That bright shiny glow, the curve of a lip, how Reese blinked slowly just once, the dozen ways he practically shivered with happiness when Tom said it.
“Love you too.” His boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and Tom dropped his box to the side with a thud just in time to brace himself as Reese walked right into him and backed him up against the wall. For a little guy, he could growl like a bear. “God. I’ll love you right up against this wall.”
Reese pulled Tom’s head down until their mouths pressed together in a kiss that shifted from Hello there, sailor to Fuck me now in seconds. He dug his hands deep into Reese’s back pockets and pulled his boy close, reveling in how far they’d come.
He tore his mouth away from Reese’s long enough to groan out, “They’re right behind us.”
Cash and Steph, who they had left near the ground floor elevator, snapping at each other about the easiest way to get their new and surprisingly lightweight couch up four flights.
“I can be fast. You?” Reese pushed him around the corner.
“So fast.”
Their bathroom was tiny, barely enough room for the two of them to stand inside and close the door. Reese dropped the lid on the toilet seat and sat, pushing Tom against the wall with two hands on his waistband, thumbs rubbing against the ridge of Tom’s dick in his pants. The wall-mounted towel bar was jammed into Tom’s kidneys and he totally didn’t care.
Reese leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the tight-stretched denim over his dick, and for a second Tom felt like he was on fire as heat from Reese’s breath soaked through his jeans.
“God.” He smacked a hand against the wall to his left for balance, catching the doorframe with the side of his hand on his right. Reese dipped his fingers into Tom’s jeans, searching, until one of his fingertips grazed the head of Tom’s dick. Pleasure jolted up his spine and he looked down. Reese grinned up at him, popping the button on Tom’s jeans right before he pulled the placket open and grabbed the zipper tab with his teeth.
“Yo! Where is everybody?”
He was going to punch his best friend in the face.
“Just one minute!” His voice cracked. Goddamn it. They’d be able to hear that for sure.
“Dudes! Tell me you are not doing it in the bathroom while I’m hauling your piece of shit couch up four flights of stairs. Thing’s made of balsawood. Steph, kick their asses.”
“I’m not going in there. No way.”
Reese buried his face in Tom’s stomach, smothering laughter, while Tom groaned and bumped his hips against his boyfriend one last, useless time. A whole summer of being a guest in someone else’s home—although being treated like a second son by Mr. Anders never made him feel anything other than loved—meant that all he wanted to do was strip all his clothes off and get naked with Reese on every flat surface in their suite.
Fuck it. He’d take a non-flat surface at this point.
He dropped his hands to Reese’s head and stroked his hair. Slid his hands under Reese’s arms and dragged him up his own body until Reese pressed against him full length, a bright sparkle in his eyes.
Tom dropped a kiss on his lips. “Later.”
“Not too much later.”
“No way. We use them for heavy labor then send ’em out for pizza. We’ll get thirty minutes alone, at least.”
Reese blew a breath up that rearranged his bangs. “This is so not going to take me thirty minutes. Sorry.”
Tom rolled his eyes. They’d both been counting the hours until they were back on campus, which felt like a win in its own right. “Imma need about five. C’mon.”
“Wait.” Reese stopped him when he would have pulled the door wide open. “It’s suspiciously quiet. What are they doing?”
They cracked the bathroom door and plastered their faces to the inch gap, Tom on tiptoe to see over Reese. Steph and Cash had made it to the middle of the room before dropping their load so that the couch faced the suite door, Cash opting to collapse on the couch in melodramatic fashion. Steph stood over him for a moment, saying something they couldn’t quite hear, before she stepped away.
Cash grabbed her by the hand and tugged her back.
Tom stood up straighter. “Wait, are they…?”
“She swears not.” Reese shook his head, hair tickling Tom’s chin. “But I wonder.”
“Yeah.” From their hideout in the bathroom, it looked distinctly like Cash was playing with Steph’s hand, their fingers tangled up together.
“Let’s get ’em.” Reese’s whisper was a sly giggle under the skin.
Tom didn’t even really know what he meant, but he laughed under his breath and committed without hesitation. “Okay.”
Their exit from the bathroom was only subtle enough to be missed by people who weren’t paying any attention at all. Tom’s running shoes, shiny new ones, squeaked on the hardwood and Steph, her back to them, tilted her head.
“Dog pile!”
Reese rushed Steph and tackled her onto Cash’s lanky form. Tom followed more slowly, still conscious of his body in relation to Reese’s, but joined the puppy pile on the couch. He braced himself on one knee, his hand on the back of the couch and an arm wrapped around Reese’s waist as he crowned the tackle hug. He grinned down at Steph’s outraged face and Cash’s wince.
“Dude! Get off my nuts.”
“That’s me.” Steph’s drawl was dry. Cash’s face turned pink as she squirmed, trapped between Reese and the tall runner with the big mouth. Tom laughed out loud and let himself fall backwards.
He managed to wedge his ass in the corner of the couch while Reese sprawled on top of him, kicking in desultory fashion now at Steph, who didn’t seem to mind that she was half on top of Cash.
Buttery yellow sunlight spilled through their tall windows. Tom draped an arm over his eyes, blocking the glare. They were going to need to do something about that. Another trip to IKEA maybe. Curtains. A bunch of shit for the bathroom he hadn’t thought about before since they’d have to clean it themselves.
They’d have to get the rest of their crap out of his car first.
And then naked time.
He stood up and dumped Reese to the floor. “Right. Time’s awastin’. Let’s get moving.” He hustled everyone out of the suite and into the hall, checking to make sure that his keys were tucked in his pocket.
His friends’ voices echoed in the empty corridor, Cash and Steph arguing, as always, over what toppings they wanted on their promised reward. He’d asked the dean for permission to show up on campus a day early, to give them twenty-four hours to settle in before the hordes of students descended. She’d understood.
He closed the door.
412.
A new room number.
He brushed a fingertip over the brass number plate, following the grooves. His heart raced for a moment at the thought of the hundreds of students who would flood the building tomorrow morning. Tom was under no illusions about the gossip that still followed him around. Maybe it always would.
“You ready, babe?”
Reese waited for him at the top of the stairs.
His rocketing pulse slowed at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. It always did. He pushed off the door with a smack of his palm and loped down the hall.
“Absolutely.”
About the Author
Amy Jo Cousins writes contemporary romance and erotica about smart people finding their own best kind of smexy. She lives in Chicago with her son, where she tweets too much, sometimes runs really far, and waits for the Cubs to win the World Series.
If you would like to find out when Amy Jo’s next release is available, you can sign up for her newsletter at www.amyjocousins.com, follow her on Twitter at @_AJCousins, or like her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/AmyJoCousins. Thank you for reading!
Look for these titles by Amy Jo Cousins
Coming Soon:
Bend or Break
Nothing Like Paris
Sometimes you have to play love by ear.
Fever Pitch
© 2014 Heidi Cullinan
Love Lessons, Book 2
Aaron Seavers is a pathetic mess, and he knows it. He lives in terror of incurring his father’s wrath and disappointing his mother, and he can’t stop dithering about where to go to college—with fall term only weeks away.
Ditched by a friend at a miserable summer farewell party, all he can do is get drunk in the laundry room and regret he was ever born. Until a geeky-cute classmate lifts his spirits, leaving him confident of two things: his sexual orientation, and where he’s headed to school.
Giles Mulder can’t wait to get the hell out of Oak Grove, Minnesota, and off to college, where he plans to play his violin and figure out what he wants to be when he grows up. But when Aaron appears on campus, memories of hometown hazing threaten what he’d hoped would be his haven.
As the semester wears on, their attraction crescendos from double-cautious to a rich, swelling chord. But if more than one set of controlling parents have their way, the music of their love could come to a shattering end.
Warning: Contains showmances, bad parenting, Walter Lucas, and a cappella.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Fever Pitch:
Giles tuned the instrument, then taught Aaron how to bow, when to use his wrist and when to lift his arm. While it wasn’t exactly necessary Giles touch Aaron’s arm to help him move it correctly, it certainly didn’t hurt his education.
He didn’t complain, either, when Giles lingered a little longer than the demonstration warranted.
Aaron was, of course, a natural. He winced when his first attempt at bowing elicited a screech, but it wasn’t long before he knew how to produce a crisp, clear sound.
“Good job,” Giles told him. “You’ll do well with fingering too. Kids use tapes when they learn, but with your ear you won’t take long to pick it up.”
“It’s so clear.” Aaron pulled a long, strong A, then an E. “This has to be more Henrietta than me.”
“She’s not a cheap date, no. She was my birthday, Christmas, and—” He stopped himself from saying get-out-of-the-hospital-for-the-second-time present. “She was expensive, so she has great sound. But the player still has to bring it, or she won’t sing.”
Aaron played a few more notes, riding the four strings up and down. “I love orchestras. Strings make me shiver.” He stole a shy glance at Giles. “When you play the double bass for Salvo, I get chills every time.”
Never, ever would Giles have guessed he could get so hard talking violin. “I’m a lot better on Henrietta.”
Aaron’s cheeks flushed with color. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
Sweet baby Jesus. Giles wanted to put Henrietta on the chair and push Aaron to the floor. “I’ll play for you right now. But let’s give you a chance to shine first. How about I teach you a song?”
From Aaron’s reaction, Giles would have thought he’d offered to give him a million dollars. “Can I learn ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’?”
“Too tricky for your first attempt. I was thinking more ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’. It only uses two strings, and it has the benefit of teaching you a lot of fingering at the same time.”
This lesson involved more touching as Giles helped Aaron apply his fingers to the board, showing him the right pressure and position. As he’d anticipated, Aaron had no trouble keeping his notes on pitch, and Giles only had to explain the very basics before Aaron taught himself the song. When he finished, he laughed and flourished his bow, flush with pride.
Giles clapped and grinned. “Well done, maestro.”
“Thanks. That was fun.” Aaron passed Henrietta and the bow over. “Let’s hear the real deal now, though.”
Giles tucked Henrietta to his shoulder, his fingers sliding easily into position on the bow. “What do you want to hear?”
“Anything.” Aaron settled into his chair. “Pop, classical—anything. Though—if you know anything with the plinky-plinky sound?” He mimed plunking strings on an imaginary violin.
“Pizzicato? Sure.” He plucked a few arpeggios, stomach flipping at the way it made Aaron smile. “Now the question is, do you want something classical and official, or do you want me to make you giggle when I play ‘TiK ToK’ pizzicato?”
Aaron burst out laughing. “Shut up. Seriously?”
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br /> Giles grinned. “I’ll consider that a request for Ke$ha.”
He launched into the song, and Aaron laughed so hard he fell sideways. But when Giles started to lower his violin, Aaron waved him on as he wiped his eyes and rose, heading to the piano. “Keep going. I have an idea.”
Giles started the song over, and goddamn if Aaron didn’t pound out harmony on the piano like the music was in front of him. Not wanting to appear a slouch, Giles stepped up his game, adding some flourishes whenever he could. Aaron kept playing, never missing so much as a note.
“Now switch,” Giles called out as they cleared the bridge. “You pizz on the piano, and I’ll bow the harmony.”
Aaron frowned, but it was a stare of concentration. “There’s no such thing on the piano. How do I—?” Then he grinned. “Got it. Go.”
Giles tried to keep his brain three steps ahead of his fingers, working out the harmonics before he played them, wanting both accuracy and elegance, because of course Aaron brought both. Aaron’s “pizzicato” was staccato beats in the upper register, sometimes with harmony added, sometimes not. Sweating, Giles did his best to keep up, a task difficult partly because of the notes, partly because it took everything in him not to break out in giggles. Though as soon as they finished the song with a ridiculous flourish, they both bust out laughing.
“That was awesome.” Aaron wiped at his eyes. “Oh, shit—I want to do more.”
“What about ‘100 Years’? It gives good pizz. Do you know it?”
Aaron stared at him, his look unreadable.
Giles faltered. Was he pissed? Annoyed? “I— Sorry—”
He stopped as Aaron grinned and rolled his eyes before his fingers moved over the opening bars with the precision of someone who’d long ago memorized the song.
Oh. The look had been incredulity, Aaron insulted at the idea he didn’t know the song.
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