Art of Love (Valley Boys Book 1)

by Vicki Tharp

  Fuck me.

  He got dressed and drove to campus. Classes passed by in a haze of lectures that Roman didn’t take notes on. All he could think about was the video. With Demetri being one of the professors at the college, he overheard bits and pieces of conversation about it. The post probably wouldn’t have gone beyond the gay community on Twitter if Demetri hadn’t been associated with the school.

  Roman didn’t get any side-eye from the other students because no one knew Demetri had been talking about him. Except maybe Emily, and he’d managed to avoid her.

  And when he’d gotten to the Center to work that night, Grant had been holed up in his office planning out the last weekends of work for the community lot while Roman wrangled the kids. Luckily, the kids were mostly too young for social media. And those who had it weren’t on Twitter.

  After the last kid left, he went back into the gym to put away the sports equipment. He picked up a basketball and started making free throws. He fell into the mindless physicality of it, the hollow bounce of the ball, the soft swoosh of the net, the squeak of his shoes on the wood floor.

  A ball bounced him, and he turned to find Grant. Grant made a shot from across the court. It bounced off the edge of the backboard and skittered into the corner.

  “You okay?” Grant asked.

  Roman passed his ball to Grant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Grant moved to half court, bouncing the ball between his legs, acting like he was going to make a run for the net. Roman moved to block him. Grant faked to the left, but he telegraphed the move, and Roman hung with him to the foul line behind the net, his arms in the air, blocking Grant’s shot.

  When Roman came up with the ball, Grant said, “I’ve been busy. But not that busy. Especially when Sebastian DMed me the video.”

  Roman made an easy shot look difficult. It hit the backboard, nowhere close to the rim, and it fell into Grant’s hands on the far side of the basket. He jumped and made a three-point shot with nothing but net.

  Roman was in over his head.

  And he wasn’t just talking about the impromptu one-on-one game.

  “We’re trying to figure things out.”

  “Demetri took a huge risk, saying what he said in that video. I know it wasn’t all about you, but it was because of you.”

  Grant held his hands out, and Roman passed him the ball even though it wasn’t his possession. He didn’t shoot. Grant tucked the ball under his arm and closed the distance between them. “Demetri’s a good man. I’m not saying I know what happened between you two. All I’m saying is he’s not the type of guy who deliberately sets out to hurt someone. But take what I have to say with a grain of salt. I’m on the outside looking in. Whatever you’re feeling is valid.”

  “Thanks.” Roman held out his hand, and Grant shook it.

  “Now get out of here.”

  “I still need to finish cleaning up here and in the art room.”

  “I’ll get it. You go home and get some rest. It looks like you could use it before the zombies come and claim you as one of their own.”

  He probably wasn’t far from wrong. The exhaustion settled into Roman’s bones as he got into his car to drive home.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t any closer to solving his Demetri problem than he’d been when he’d woken up that morning.

  Joss’s drill whirred in the bathroom. He’d found some time to finish up the last few checklist items and was trying to get everything finished. Demetri sat at his kitchen table, staring out the front windows, his microwaved pizza untouched, and growing cold. But all he saw against the darkened window was his pathetic reflection.

  He glanced down at his phone, checking his DMs. He didn’t expect to hear from Roman but had hoped that he would. In his long string of notifications, it would be easy to miss it if Roman responded.

  At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

  “That’s me done then,” Joss said as he walked into the kitchen, his tool bag slung over one shoulder.

  “Let me get my checkbook.”

  Joss waved him off. “PayPal it to me. It’s fine. I trust you.”

  At least somebody trusted him.

  Joss tapped a finger on the table as if he had something else to say but didn’t know how to say it. “For what it’s worth, what you said in that video… It was beautiful. And brave. And from what I read in the comments, much needed.”

  “I was drunk.”

  Joss shook his head. “Not that drunk. But hey, if that excuse helps, I’m not going to judge.”

  Headlights flashed as a car pulled up to the curb. Joss watched until someone climbed out. “You’ve got company.”

  His empty stomach rolled. Demetri shoved his plate away. He didn’t need the cheap pizza to add insult. Besides, Demetri wouldn’t be able to swallow with the way his saliva had dried up, and his mouth had gone dry.

  His palms sweated. Bracing a hand on the table, he stood, leaving a damp handprint behind.

  This was it. Either Roman had come to dump him face to face, or...

  It was the ‘or’ that kept Demetri’s heart beating with the dregs of hope.

  “I’m gonna get,” Joss said as Roman strode up the sidewalk. “I still have two chutes to pack before my hop tomorrow.” Then he turned back at the front door. “Good luck. I mean it.”

  “Thanks.” Demetri’s voice croaked, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.

  Joss opened the door before Roman had a chance to knock. He clamped one hand on Roman’s shoulder as he left. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  Joss had one of those voices that carried, even when he tried to keep it down.

  Roman said something back, but the pounding behind Demetri’s ears blocked the sound. He wished he’d heard, then maybe he would have a few precious seconds to prepare himself before Roman made it into the kitchen and said whatever he’d come to say.

  Now... he could only watch Roman approach as Joss closed the door behind him.

  “Hey.” Roman stepped into the kitchen, a self-conscious, shy smile on his face that melted Demetri from the inside out.

  “H-hey, yourself.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “I’d like that,” Demetri said, even though that conversation could be the beginning of the end. At least when the talking was done, he’d have his answer. The waiting and not knowing and the uncertainly were killing him. “Here, okay?”

  The way Roman grinned, Demetri couldn’t imagine this conversation going bad, then that smile slipped off Roman’s face. “I think that would be safest. Out here in a fishbowl with the shades up and the lights on. It’ll keep us from getting ourselves into trouble before we hash things out.”

  Demetri held his hand out in invitation and retook his seat. Roman sat across from him. He had on a pair of jeans so soft it wore like a second skin. His tank top showed off the balls of his shoulders and the bulge of his biceps. He had scruff on his jaw that looked like it had been there since Friday and bags under his eyes that Demetri felt responsible for putting there.

  Still, Demetri wanted to say fuck the talk and just get his hands on Roman. So yeah, the fishbowl was the safest place for them. Good call.

  “First off,” Roman said, “I’m pissed that the only art class that fulfilled my graduation requirement was landscape drawing. If I have to draw one more leaf, I’m going to go insane. I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for that.”

  Roman didn’t smile, but his eyes lit with a spark.

  Demetri held back his return smile as best he could, but he wasn’t nearly as successful as Roman had been.

  The fact that Roman cracked a joke had to be a good sign. Right?

  “Duly noted.” Demetri injected as much solemnity as he could muster. “You said ‘first off.’ Is that the start of a list of demands? Should I get a pen and paper to take notes?”

  “It’s not that long of a list. Second...” Roman’s gaze went around the room but didn’t stop and focus on anything particular.
Demetri waited Roman out, while Demetri’s brainstem forgot to tell him to breathe. “You said you loved me. I heard it. So did—” he checked something on his phone. “One point five million others at last count.”

  Demetri blew out a breath. Besides scrolling through his DMs, he’d stayed off the platform, knowing you should never read the comments. Still, those kinds of numbers were staggering. “You can’t be serious?”

  Roman held the phone up for Demetri to see. He’d rounded the numbers down by about fifty thousand.

  “About that.”

  “You don’t... love me?”

  “I do.” Demetri held Roman’s assessing gaze, never wavering. “But I know it’s early, and I don’t want you freaking out and feeling any pressure if it takes longer for you to get there.”

  “What if I never do?” The shift in Roman’s expression made the words come out more like a teasing jab.

  “That wouldn’t be as ideal.”

  Roman leaned those beefy arms on the table. “Why not?”

  “Because I think if I have to leave you tied to my bed day in and day out, the neighbors are close enough to hear you scream for help. Maybe a house with a basement is a better option.”

  “What if I don’t need rescuing?”

  And fuck if those six little words didn’t make the back of Demetri’s eyes sting. “What are you trying to say?” With his chest tight with emotion, he sounded winded when he spoke.

  “That maybe all this isn’t your fault.” Roman’s eyes reddened. “I have a lot more baggage than I thought. This ride we’re on… it’s made me realize how much it weighs me down.”

  “I’m sorry for what your father did. Not telling you he had AIDS, it wasn’t right. But I don’t think he did it to hurt you. I think he did it to protect himself.”

  “The way you did?”

  That previous ray of hope Roman’s teasing had brought him snuffed out.

  Demetri nodded. “I’ll understand if what I did is too much to forgive.” He reached across the table and squeezed Roman’s hand. “But I appreciate you coming here and telling me in person and not doing it over text, or completely ghosting me. I know this couldn’t have been easy.”

  Somehow Demetri got all the words out without his voice failing him. And if he blinked fast enough, stray tears wouldn’t fall either.

  “I’ve been thinking. About my dad. He must have had the same fear of rejection. And while I’ll never understand why he stopped taking his meds, I don’t believe he did it with malice. I had to dig deep, but I found forgiveness for him. Something I was never allowed to give him while he was alive. But you’re still here and deserving of the same grace, I think.

  “What I’m trying to say and failing spectacularly is…” Roman flipped his hand over and held onto Demetri’s before he could take it away. “…is that I’m not breaking up with you. Or at least I wouldn’t be if we hadn’t split already. I mean... I’d like to see where this might go. If you still want me.”

  “More than anything.” His grip tightened on Roman’s hand. “I’m sorry I lied. Even more, I’m sorry you have to sit through a landscape drawing class for the rest of the semester.”

  Roman laughed and leaned across the table. He kissed Demetri, a strong hand around his neck to keep him in place. Their tongues teased and tasted when all Demetri wanted to do was devour him. When Roman finally let go, Demetri’s hard-on pressed against the soft fabric of his athletic shorts, begging to come out and play.

  But he wasn’t going to make the first move. That Roman had come to his house ready to give them another try was more than enough.

  Roman gestured at the pizza on the plate. “You going to eat that?”

  “Go ahead.”

  After Roman took a slice, Demetri took one as well. It tasted like ketchup spread on cardboard with a layer of plastic cheese melted on top. But damn if it wasn’t also the best pizza Demetri had ever sunk his teeth into.

  They swallowed down the last of it, and Demetri asked, “What changed your mind?”

  “It wasn’t one thing. It was a bunch of little things. The way you made me feel when I was around you, like you’d won both the jackpot and the lottery. It was also your smile. The way you held me in your arms. The way you had so many people on your side.”

  “There are no sides. No one is against you. Especially me.”

  “I know that. But having everyone advocate for you highlighted the fact that you wouldn’t have so many people in the world who love you if your heart weren’t in the right place.”

  Roman fell silent, but Demetri waited him out. “And then Moses... fucking Moses of all people,” Roman said with a laugh, “challenged me. He said something to the effect of how it had been so easy for me to forgive the pastor, but that I couldn’t find it in me to forgive you.”

  Meeting Demetri’s eyes again, Roman’s jaw worked side to side. “It hit hard. And he was so right.”

  Roman continued. “It’s the people I care about the most who deserve grace and forgiveness. And it took my dope-head friend to help me see that. And for that, I’m sorry.”

  “Roman?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking and get your ass over here.”

  19

  Demetri stood, and Roman hurried around the table and walked into Demetri’s waiting arms. Roman couldn’t think of any other place he’d rather be. As the tightness in his chest eased and his eyes started to dry, he knew he had to get one more thing out before they could move forward.

  Demetri might think it was stupid, but it was crucial to that part of Roman who feared getting left behind. Roman pulled back, and Demetri rubbed his cheeks dry.

  “I need one promise,” Roman said.

  “Anything.”

  “You can’t ever stop taking your meds. You can’t let me fall in love with you and do something stupid like that down the road.”

  Demetri sobered. “That’s one promise that will be easy for me to keep. I want to live, especially with you in my life. But even if you aren’t, if we don’t work out, life’s too beautiful, and too many people have already died from this disease for me to throw what I have away.”

  “You swear?” Roman held up his hand, his pinky finger extended toward Demetri.

  “A pinkie promise?”

  “Hey, they’re unbreakable.” He held his hands up as if the rules were out of his control. “I don’t make the rules.”

  Demetri locked fingers with him. “Promise.”

  Roman pulled him in for a simple kiss when he wanted so much more. Demetri tasted of crappy college dorm pizza and a wish come true. God, he wanted him.

  He backed Demetri to the wall, his hard-on pressed against Demetri’s lower abdomen. He’d been dreaming of sucking Demetri off since that night in the alley, and Demetri had no reason to refuse him now.

  Roman palmed Demetri through his athletic shorts, his mouth working its way up Demetri’s jawline to his ear. “I want this. What do you think?”

  Demetri chuckled. “I think we’re about to give the Reynoldses across the street a gay education.”

  Roman nipped at Demetri’s earlobe and broke away. “Hold that thought.”

  He ran over to the front windows and lowered the blinds. Though unnecessary, did the same to the blinds on the sliding glass doors overlooking the pool. Once he and Demetri got started, he didn’t plan on stopping until they were nothing but a puddle of sweat and sated bodies.

  They’d have plenty of time for the bedroom later, but Roman couldn’t wait the seconds it would take for them to walk the forty or so extra feet.

  He hooked his fingers in Demetri’s elastic waistband and slowly drew the shorts down. A line of exposed skin appeared first, that sexy trail of hair arrowing down, pointing to where Roman wanted to be most.

  Demetri’s hand gently held the back of Roman’s head in anticipation. Roman tugged on the fabric some more. Demetri must have adjusted himself while Roman dealt with the shades because the slick tip of Demetri�
��s hard cock greeted him first.

  He slid the shorts to the tops of Demetri’s thighs, fully exposing Demetri’s goods. And what goods they were. He skimmed a finger along the underside of Demetri’s dick.

  Demetri sucked in a breath. “Don’t be shy.”

  Roman had always found Demetri’s low, thick voice so damn sexy, and he wanted to kiss that half-grin off Demetri’s face.

  “I’m not shy. I’m building the sexual tension.”

  “The anticipation is already there. I’ve been jacking off almost every night to the thought of those lips working their magic on my dick. In fact, I’ve jacked off so much, I considered buying stock in lube.”

  Roman feigned like he was about to get up. “Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin the lube sales projections for the next quarter.”

  Demetri put a firm, staying hand on Roman’s shoulder. “Your mouth. My dick. Now.”

  Chuckling, Roman did as Demetri demanded. Not that it was any hardship on his part. He traced the same trail up the underside of Demetri’s cock with his tongue, loving Demetri’s musky smell. He buried his nose in his short, cropped pubes and breathed him in, Roman’s hard-on crying for relief.

  But this was about pleasuring Demetri. Up to this point, Demetri had showered all the attention on Roman. Now it was Demetri’s turn to be on the receiving end of all that delicious pleasure.

  He swirled his tongue around Demetri’s tip, the salty precum a taste Roman would never tire of. Then he gripped the base and took Demetri to the back of his throat. Demetri grunted, his head thumping back against the wall with a thud. Demetri was the perfect length, stopping short of making Roman gag. And that girth? Jesus. Utter perfection.

  The Goldilocks of dicks.

  Not so big that Roman would have to psyche himself up before he jumped on it. But big enough—and with the slight upward curve—to reach the best spots and fill him fully.

  He bobbed up and down on Demetri’s dick, driving Demetri ever closer to that edge. Roman’s felt the faintest contractions along Demetri’s taint. He stopped and ran his hands down Demetri’s thighs and a finger along the crack of Demetri’s ass.