Art of Love (Valley Boys Book 1)

by Vicki Tharp

  Progress.

  “I’d better get back to work,” Demetri said.

  Roman wanted to lean in and kiss those pouty lips, but even though he had his back to the lot and his body would block the view, standing out on the street, they were still too exposed. He wouldn’t do that to Demetri. It wouldn’t be fair. “Maybe this time you’ll keep your eyes on your work, professor.”

  When Demetri grinned like that, it lit his face, put a spark in his eyes, and made the sun shine brighter in the sky.

  “Don’t count on it.” Demetri patted Roman’s stomach and let his hand trail across Roman’s ribs as he stepped past.

  The next few hours flew by in a cloud of concrete dust. Numbness gradually creeping up Roman’s arms. With the hearing protection, all Roman had to keep him company were the thoughts in his head.

  Dirty thoughts.

  That hand that Demetri had dragged across Roman’s belly burned like a fresh tattoo. All afternoon, Roman had way too much time imagining what those hands would feel like on the rest of his body.

  He glanced up from the last section of concrete cracking under his jackhammer, and through the dust-clouded lenses of his eye protection, caught Demetri staring. Emily hadn’t been lying. Not that he’d thought she had been.

  Roman turned back to his work, the exhaustion taking a back seat to the exhilaration.

  When he finished the last square, he turned off the jackhammer and laid it down, stripping off his eye and ear protection. He bent down to start loading rubble into the wheelbarrow with Grant and the boys, but Grant clapped him on the back and said, “Nope. You’re done. Go take a load off. We’ll finish up here.”

  Roman didn’t even pretend to argue. “Okay. Thanks.”

  He boosted himself onto Grant’s tailgate, the instant relief of getting the weight off his feet made him groan. Fuck. He couldn’t remember a time that he’d worked that hard.

  The engine for one of the power washers shut off, quickly followed by the other. Cars still drove by, people walked and talked and went about their day, but the comparable silence was a relief to his ears.

  He grabbed one of the leftover bottles of water and drained almost all of it in a few swallows, pouring the last of it over his head. But it wasn’t nearly enough to wash all the grit and grime off his face.

  “Here, try this.” Demetri brought him a clean rag and a five-gallon bucket with water from a nearby spigot. “It’s not as good as a shower, but you can at least get some of the grime off you.”

  “Thanks.” Roman took the rag and jumped to the ground.

  He ditched his shirt and shoveled the cool, refreshing water over his head and face. With the wet rag, he washed off his arms and chest, not caring that the excess dripped into the waistband of his shorts. He dunked the rag again, squeezing the water over his shoulder. He couldn’t reach everywhere, but it was better than nothing.

  “Want me to get your back?” Demetri held out his hand for the rag.

  Oh, hell, yeah. “Go for it.”

  7

  Want me to get your back?

  You’re the worst kind of idiot. The kind that can’t get out of his own way. If shit hits the fan, if you’re fired, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

  When a sexy man he had the hots for turned his back, allowing Demetri to wash it—that great expanse of powerful flesh and muscle and bone—inner Demetri all but jumped up and down with his hands raised yelling pick me, pick me, begging for the blame.

  From Roman’s wide shoulders to his trim waist, Demetri washed the dusting of aerosolized concrete off his skin. Watching a few drops of water disappear down Roman’s spine, Demetri wished he could ditch the rag and explore with his hands.

  He rinsed and lightly wrung out the rag. He was finished, but he kept going. At the top of Roman’s shoulders, he squeezed out the rest of the water, loving the way the droplets jumped and bumped over the dips and valleys of Roman’s muscles.

  Every place he wanted his lips and tongue to be.

  With one finger, he followed the trail of water over the visible knobs of each vertebra, and Roman’s head dropped between his shoulders, goosebumps flashing across his beautiful bare skin.

  A throat cleared behind him, and he and Roman both jumped. “Can you toss me one of those waters?”

  Roman grabbed one of the waters from the bed of the truck and handed it to Emily. Roman shook the dust out of his shirt and tugged it on over his damp skin.

  Grant called out. “Can one of you give me a hand with the jackhammer?”

  Demetri held up a staying hand to Roman. “I’ll help. You stay here.”

  Roman had worked hard enough that day and, more importantly, Demetri had no desire to be left alone with Emily, and her questioning looks.

  The jackhammer was fucking heavy, making Demetri puff hard by the time they loaded it into the back of the truck for Grant to return it to the rental department at the home center.

  “I’ll be back,” Grant said, then called out to the boys. “You two staying or coming with me?”

  Tavi made a face as if he’d rather eat a plateful of Brussels sprouts. “We’ll stay.”

  “Wheel those pressure washers over here,” Grant told the boys. “They need to go back, too.”

  While they waited for the boys, Emily said, “I think I’m going to head out if you’re finished with me.”

  “Yeah.” Grant pulled her in for a side hug. “Thanks for all the help. You’re welcome back any time.”

  “Thanks. I have a project for school I have to start tomorrow, but I can come back next Saturday if that works for you.”

  “That would be great,” Demetri said. “That’s when the gremlins will be here to help. We could use all the adult supervision we can get.”

  To Grant, Emily said, “Shoot me that form for the background check tonight, and I’ll fill it out, and you can run it before next weekend.”

  “Will do.”

  They all said their goodbyes, and Grant closed the tailgate. “Before I forget, Sebastian wanted me to remind you about the family dinner tomorrow night.”

  Demetri didn’t always go to the family dinners on Sundays, but he didn’t have a good excuse this time. “I remember.”

  “Do you two mind waiting with the boys? I shouldn’t be too long. They could stay here alone if you have somewhere you need to be.”

  “I can stay,” Roman was first to say.

  Demetri didn’t have plans for later, and also wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Roman either, so he said, “Same.”

  Grant drove away, and Demetri said, “Want to help me finish loading the rest of the rubble? If we load and the boys dump, we should be able to get it done before Grant gets back.”

  “Lead the way.”

  The last of the rubble lay on the side of the lot nearest the church. When Demetri didn’t have his eye on Roman, he had his eye out for the pastor from the church next door.

  Being Saturday, groups of kids came in and out of the church. He figured they had a well-developed youth program.

  But to his surprise—and relief—the pastor never showed his face.

  After the boys took the last load to the dumpster, Demetri and Roman stood with their backs to the church, surveying the freshly pressure-washed walls and discussing prioritizing work for the next day.

  “We should probably build the forms for the sidewalk first,” Roman said, “Didn’t Grant say the concrete guys are coming first thing Monday—”

  “Hey!” Came a shout from over their shoulders. “Stop that. No one needs to see that kind of sick behavior in public.”

  Tavi and Remy broke apart. They’d done nothing more than peck each other on the lips and walk hand in hand back toward Roman and Demetri.

  The hairs on the back of Demetri’s neck danced as he turned around. Demetri opened his mouth to confront the man striding their way. The man’s face was flushed, and a vein popped at his temple. Roman placed a staying hand on Demetri’s chest and said, “I�
�ll handle this.”

  “If you have a problem, sir,” Roman said, “you can talk to me about it.”

  The pastor was round and sixty-ish with a comb-over that was the only sin occurring in the immediate vicinity. How Roman remained so calm, Demetri didn’t know, not with the blood rushing past Demetri’s ears and the heat of anger creeping up the back of his neck. He turned to the boys who’d stopped a few feet behind. “Why don’t you guys go chill out by the dumpster? Grant should be back shortly.”

  “I’m not letting him run me off,” Tavi said. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Show some respect, young man.” The man stepped closer and pointed an angry finger at Tavi. “You should—”

  Roman took one step to the right, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking the pastor’s way. “I think you should move along, sir.”

  “Move along? While these two sin beside a house of God, in full view of all these innocent children coming and going? What am I supposed to tell their God-fearing mothers, their fathers?”

  “Maybe that God loves all of his children. Not just the straight ones,” Roman said, still without a feather ruffled. “You could start there.”

  Remy coughed, but it sounded more like a laugh to Demetri.

  When the pastor moved to step around Roman, Roman moved in front of him again. If the pastor wanted to get to the boys, he’d have to go through Roman. Demetri rocked back on his heels. The sense of pride he had for Roman made his chest hurt.

  “This is an abomination. I’m going to talk to the city council and—”

  Roman rested his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you call the judge, too, while you’re at it. You know, the one who blocked the injunction your church filed to prevent the Center from receiving the lot from the estate. I’m sure he would love to speak with you as well.”

  “Hmph.” The man took a step back but didn’t leave before saying, “I’ll be watching.”

  “Better yet,” Roman said, “why don’t you and your congregation come tomorrow and help? Perhaps after church? This is a community space for all the kids, not only the LGBTQ ones. I’m sure they would love to help out their fellow neighbors.”

  The pastor turned a shade of red that the fire department might want to adopt for their trucks and spun on his heel, gathering a few of the straggling kids’ parents had dropped off in front of the church and ushered them inside.

  Roman blew out a breath as the man retreated.

  “Holy crap,” Tavi said, “that was freaking amazing.”

  “That was dope. Can I have your autograph?” Remy held out his hands to Roman as if he had a pad of paper and pen.

  Roman rolled his eyes. “Shoo, you two.”

  The boys pushed and shoved each other playfully and jogged over when Grant pulled in at the curb.

  Demetri bumped his shoulder against Roman’s as they walked to join the others, knowing the next words out of his mouth would be a mistake, but he said them anyway. “Can I buy you a beer?”

  Roman and Demetri had to walk three blocks past where they’d left Demetri’s car that morning, and a couple blocks down a quiet, dirty side street to get to the bar.

  “Where is this place anyway?” Not a complaint, even with the bottoms of his feet throbbing from standing in work boots all day. If Demetri wanted to buy him a beer at the end of a long, hot day, he’d walk around the city three times if that’s what Demetri wanted.

  “It’s just ahead.”

  Roman glanced up, but he didn’t see a sign or any other indication of an establishment that hadn’t gone out of business in the last decade. “Are you sure we’re on the right street?”

  Demetri grabbed the handle of a glass door, the reflective film so dark you couldn’t see inside. There was no sign on or above the door, but Demetri pulled it open and ushered Roman inside.

  Roman stopped on the other side of the threshold, and Demetri had to scoot by him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as the tinted door behind them swung closed, throwing the place into near darkness again. “What is this place?”

  “Sneaky Pete’s. It’s one of the oldest gay bars in the valley. Niko and I started sneaking into this place back in high school.”

  Demetri took Roman’s hand, and he followed willingly. They ordered at the bar and took their drinks to the farthest table in a dim back corner.

  Roman took a seat with his back to the wall. Not because he feared getting jumped, but because he wanted to get a feel for the place.

  He took a sip of his peach IPA and stared up at the exposed pipe ceiling, the brick wall that looked like it wouldn’t take more than a huff or a puff, and it would blow down.

  This wasn’t one of those trendy places that spent high dollars to make it look like a hole in the wall. It was a hole in the wall. And by all indications, only one or two health code violations shy of a shutdown.

  “You trying to hide me?” It was a joke, but by the way Demetri blanched, it hit close to home.

  “We can leave if you want,” Demetri offered. “I thought this would be a good place where we can be ourselves, and I wouldn’t have to worry about running into students or colleagues.”

  Demetri blew out a breath and stood. “I’m fucking this up. Let’s go. There’s a sports bar around the corner and—”

  “Sit down.” Roman took Demetri’s hand to prevent him from leaving. “I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

  And it wasn’t because the soles of his feet had developed a heartbeat of their own. He liked the bar. Liked the anonymity. Liked that it was a safe space just to be.

  But he would have followed Demetri anywhere if it meant he got to spend some one-on-one time with him.

  Demetri sat, taking a long swallow of his beer and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He glanced at his other hand, the one Roman still held, and the one Demetri hadn’t pulled back.

  Roman would have held his hand in public, but it was nice that he didn’t have to glance around him and make sure there weren’t any threats.

  Demetri squeezed Roman’s hand. “You impressed me back there.”

  “I have an extremely low tolerance for that kind of bullshit. I’m not about to stand around and let an adult verbally abuse a kid.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

  A waiter came over in jeans and a bar branded T-shirt. His beard was long, and his hair was short. “Want anything off the menu?”

  “I’m starved.” Demetri let go of Roman’s hand and picked up a menu card off the table and gave it a cursory glance. “I’ll have the blue-cheese burger and fries.”

  “Same.”

  “I’ll have it right out.”

  Roman started where their conversation let off, trying to downplay what he’d revealed. He didn’t want to get into all his shit. He didn’t need anything else that might potentially scare Demetri away. “Not much of a story.”

  “Let me guess...” Of course, Demetri didn’t take the hint. “Your father was homophobic and—”

  Roman shook his head and took another sip of beer, buying him some time. If they were going to go there, he needed to figure out how much he was willing to divulge. His parents were a particularly sore spot in his life. His mother for what she’d done. His father for what he didn’t do.

  “I think my father knew from a very early age that I was gay. He did his best to protect me from my mother, but I came to find out later he had his own demons to battle.”

  “Was your mother ultra-religious?”

  “Only when it suited her. Anyway...” Roman paused until the lump in his throat eased, and he felt certain his voice wouldn’t shake and give him away. “My dad eventually... left,” was the word Roman found to be as close to the truth as he could allow right then. “And she did her complicated best to make the rest of my life a living hell.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you ever reconnect with your father?”

  Wanna know the problem with half-truths? The follow-up questions were a bitch to
navigate. “I don’t want to lie. I’ll just say reconnecting isn’t an option.”

  The food came, and either derailed Demetri’s line of questioning, or Demetri decided to have some mercy on him. They both dug into the greasy bar food that may or may not give them food poisoning. At least the flavor was passable, but Roman’s standard was a low bar considering he was at the stage of hunger where he would have eaten a can of cat food if it had been his only choice.

  Demetri bought them another round of beer and changed the subject to something lighter. By the time they left the bar, darkness had fallen. Demetri linked his fingers with Roman’s until they hit the busier main street.

  Roman understood Demetri’s caution but didn’t like the feeling he was being shoved into the closet. For better and for much worse, Roman had been out since before he could remember, and this new secrecy didn’t sit well. Even though he knew it had nothing to do with being gay and everything to do with Demetri seeing a student.

  Then walk away. It’s only going to get worse.

  When they arrived back at the Center, only a few cars dotted the parking lot. Demetri got out and walked Roman to his car. Roman unlocked his car, but instead of opening it, he leaned back against his door.

  Demetri stuffed his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. He didn’t seem nervous, more like he had something to say, and didn’t know how to say it.

  “I’d ask you back to my place,” Roman said, “but I have a roommate, and I already know the answer will be no.”

  Demetri leaned against the car beside him and kicked at a bottle cap laying on the chipped white line. “If things were different...”

  “But they’re not.” Then Roman admitted something he hadn’t wanted to because it showed how invested he already was. “I checked with the art department to see if I could transfer out, but you’re the only professor offering this class this semester. And when I tried to switch to a different class entirely, they were full, or I didn’t have the right prerequisite.”