Inseparable (Port Java Book 1)

by Sloan Johnson

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Gabe

  Trevor

  Kindred Spirits

  A Note From Sloan

  Acknowledgments

  About Sloan Johnson

  Also by Sloan Johnson

  Inseparable

  Port Java #1

  Sloan Johnson

  Copyright © 2017 by Sloan Johnson

  Edited by Labyrinth Bound Edits

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Inseparable

  Trevor and Gabe never knew life without the other. As only children, they grew up as close as brothers, but their love grew to something more. Something they couldn't talk about because their parents wouldn't understand.

  Gabe is gay and unapologetic about his sexuality. He refuses to live his life in the shadows, but that doesn't mean he isn't harboring secrets.

  Trevor is his parents’ miracle child and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Coming out, admitting he's in love with Gabe, could ruin everything.

  Heading off to college was supposed to finally free them to be together, but nothing is as easy as it seems. Can they find a way to navigate this new world, living and loving openly?

  To my family, who raised me to be my own person, no matter what society said I should be. Your support is my foundation.

  Contents

  1. Gabe

  2. Trevor

  3. Gabe

  4. Trevor

  5. Trevor

  6. Gabe

  7. Trevor

  8. Gabe

  9. Trevor

  10. Gabe

  11. Trevor

  12. Gabe

  13. Trevor

  14. Gabe

  15. Trevor

  16. Gabe

  17. Trevor

  18. Gabe

  19. Trevor

  20. Gabe

  21. Trevor

  Epilogue

  Kindred Spirits

  A Note From Sloan

  Acknowledgments

  About Sloan Johnson

  Also by Sloan Johnson

  1

  Gabe

  “Gabe, do you have the mini-vacuum?” I tried to keep from rolling my eyes until I turned away. I loved my mom, really, but she was taking the whole “baby bird leaving the nest” thing a bit too far. And seriously, who needed a damn vacuum in the dorms? I barely used one at home. Why would I suddenly be overcome with the urge to vacuum the little bit of exposed floor that’d be left once we loaded in our stuff on top of the furniture the university provided? Besides, our rooms had institutional tile floors, not carpet. Seemed like overkill to me, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I was beginning to rethink my insistence that we load the Jeep this morning before heading out. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to deal with Mom’s neuroses at six in the damn morning.

  “Yes, Mom.” I sighed, heavily, before picking up the next tote to load into the back of Trevor’s Jeep. All summer she’d been making lists and obsessively checking them against the growing pile of so-called essentials she picked up every time she ran into town. “I also have the Clorox wipes, the Lysol, paper towels, and dish soap. Everything you bought is packed away in these bins.”

  Trevor brushed past me, sending a shock through my body. Not much longer and I wouldn’t have to ball my hands into fists to keep from reaching out for him. Maybe. Something was off with him today and I couldn’t figure out what it was. He seemed more anxious than excited, which made me wonder if he’d only gone along with this plan to attend the same college and share a dorm to humor me.

  Shit. Was that it? It wouldn’t be the first time. Our moms loved to tell us that we’d been raising hell together since the playpen, my own mom always adding that I was the instigator, not Trevor. Never precious Trevor. No, he was a people-pleaser from birth and went along with everything I dreamed up, even after one plot ended in a trip to the emergency room and him in a cast for six weeks.

  When he returned from the Jeep, I did reach out for him. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah, why?” His focus darted past me to see if anyone was within earshot. That’d become a rote habit, especially in the past few months. The closer we got to getting the hell out of Dodge, the more reckless I’d become. I’d grown impatient, not wanting to wait to see what it’d be like when we weren’t both worrying about our parents barging into the room.

  “You’re quiet,” I observed.

  “I’m always the quiet one,” he responded with a smirk. “That’s why your mom loves me more.”

  “True story.”

  Why couldn’t you be more like Trevor? his mom asked more times than he could count. Trevor’s such a good boy, she’d say wistfully every time he left the house to walk two doors down to his own house as the streetlights came on.

  “But you’re quiet, even for you. You sure you’re okay with this? Once we get there, there’s no turning back.”

  “Pretty sure that ship sailed about an hour after the acceptance letters came in the mail.” He wasn’t wrong. Our moms had been overjoyed when we’d both been accepted to UNC Wilmington. Sometimes, I wondered how much easier our lives would’ve been if one of us had been born a girl. Okay, so maybe not as easy as I’d convinced myself since I knew damn well our mothers would have our entire lives plotted out by now, down to how many kids we’d have and how far away we’d be allowed to live so they could shower their grandchildren with love and presents.

  “But if you don’t wanna share a room, we can ask for a room assignment change,” I offered, even though the idea of him not being on the other side of our tiny dorm room made me physically ill. I held my breath until he shook his head, the only confirmation I got that he was still on board with being my roommate. A quick glance over my shoulder told me we were alone, so I took his hand in mine, squeezing tighter when he tried to pull away. “Trev, don’t do this. Not now. If you want your own room, tell me. I won’t be pissed.”

  Hurt, yes. Angry with him for wanting to do his own thing instead of following me around the way I’d grown used to for the past eighteen years, no. One thing I never wanted to do was push Trevor into something he didn’t want. Hell, if it were up to me, we’d have been making out, maybe more, for the past year, ever since the night I confessed my crush to him, knowing it could be the end of the only friendship I knew I could count on no matter what.

  I picked at the threads of my hoodie, trying to work up the balls to tell Trevor why I’d been such a prick to him for the past week. Month. Hell, I couldn’t even remember how long it’d been since seeing him didn’t twist me in knots. He’d cornered me, called me out like never before, and I’d never been able to lie to his face. Lie by omission, sure. But never an outright lie.

  “So, what is it? Decided you’re sick of me tagging along with you and your friends?” It was true, Trevor and I weren’t in the same social class at school, what with his nose being stuck in the books and me being the stereotypical jock, but I’d have gone to blows before shunning him because he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a ball.

  “No! God, how could you even think that?” I shoved him back, pissed that he thought I was trying to push him away.

  “Well let’s see…” He held up a hand and started ticking off the reasons on his fingers. “You’re suddenly busy every time I ask if you want to hang out. You disappeared yesterday as soon as the bell rang, if you even bothered to stay that long, and you’ve been pulling that shit all week, even though I
’m the one with a car. You don’t answer my texts anymore. God, I hate this. You’re making me sound like a jealous boyfriend or something. Just tell me what in the heck’s been going on with you, because I’ve had a lot of time to try and work it out in my head, and the only things I can come up with that sound plausible are you’re sick of me and don’t want to tell me, or you’re doing drugs.”

  “Seriously? Those are the options you were left with?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. But then, my mind rewound to his comment about being a jealous boyfriend. Did he want to be my boyfriend? Or was the more wishful thinking on my part? I’d tried dancing around the idea of telling him I’m gay, but whenever we got close to the topic, he’d abruptly change the subject. Was it possible the same shit weighed on his mind?

  There was only one way to find out. I sucked in a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. This was the moment of truth. “I’m not on drugs and I’m not trying to get rid of you, okay? I’m gay. That’s my big secret.”

  “And you’re telling me this why?”

  “Because you’re my best friend and you deserve to know,” I yelled. He flinched back, shoulders slumped as though I’d physically hit him. He’d never dealt well when anyone raised their voices to him, and I damn-well knew it. Now, I felt like shit. I placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a quick squeeze so he’d look up at me. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry, I swear. But how are you so calm about this?”

  Trevor hedged, averting his gaze to the ground before responding. “I guess I thought you already knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “Well—I mean—I never knew how to ask, but I’ve assumed for a while now that you were. It’s why we get along so well. I don’t have to pretend when I’m around you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Trevor shrugged. Oh hell no, he wasn’t going to dodge the question this time.

  “Trev, talk to me. Are you saying…?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Say the words, Trev,” I pleaded. This was not the time to make vague comments and hope the other one understood. I needed his words. Needed his voice to tell me I wasn’t dreaming.

  “I… I’m… dang, why is this so hard? You did it, why can’t I?” The quiver in Trevor’s voice warned me he was on the verge of tears. He caught hell from everyone for being too sensitive, but I envied him that. Sometimes, I wished it were so easy for me to show emotions other than angst and anger.

  “It’s scary to cut yourself open and let people see the real you,” I assured him, taking a step closer. My hand slid down his shoulder to his hand. He stared at that point of contact before looking up at me with a shy smile. “It’s me, Trev. Let me see you.”

  “I’m… gay.” I swear I opened my mouth to tell him how proud of him I was, but the next thing I knew, my mouth fused with Trevor’s and I couldn’t bring myself to stop kissing him. He gasped, and I took the opportunity to get my first taste of him. I dreamed of this moment, but never had my dream been set in a dark corner of my parents’ basement. I kept waiting for Trevor to pull away, but instead, he wrapped his arms around my waist, silently reassuring me he felt this too.

  “Gabriel Aaron, did you remember to pack your shower shoes?” I sprang back at the sound of Mom’s voice. Shit, I needed to hold it together, just one more hour, or all our careful planning to keep them from telling us what a huge mistake we were making would shatter.

  “Yes, Mother,” I responded, knowing she hated it as much when I called her mother as I did when she used my full name.

  “And the anti-fungal spray?” DeeDee added. I hadn’t even realized she’d come down to help us pack. I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep a bark of laughter from escaping. As frustrating as my own mom could be, Trev’s was ten times worse. “You can’t be too careful with those communal showers. Not much is worse than wishing you could claw the skin off your own feet because you picked up someone’s fungus from the shower floors. They never clean those things as often as they should.”

  Trevor’s faced burned red. I flashed him a sympathetic look before darting away to avoid listening to DeeDee’s monologue about the number of germs present in a college dorm. She was a nurse at a clinic near the local college campus and while my mom had spent the summer trying to make sure we had everything every college prep list claimed to be a necessity, she’d spent our time at her house warning us of all the diseases we’d pick up at college if we didn’t take the appropriate precautions.”

  “…And condoms. Do you have those?” Out of their sight, this time I didn’t resist the urge to double over in laughter. But I perked right up, curious as to Trevor’s response. There were certain supplies we would need to stop and purchase along the way, condoms and lube being at the top of that list.

  “God, Mom, why don’t you grab a megaphone? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Palmer didn’t hear you making sure I’ll be having safe sex when I’m earning my degree.”

  “Yes, remember why you’re there. That’s good,” she praised him. “I’m too young to be a grandma.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I promise that won’t happen,” he responded. I heard his mortification from across the driveway. If I looked at Trevor, there was no doubt he’d glare at my amusement. When our eyes finally met, my stomach settled. He probably didn’t even realize how his eyes scanned my body or the way he absentmindedly licked his lips, as though he was thinking about exactly why it was so easy for him to promise Gwen she wouldn’t be a grandma anytime soon.

  “You’re right, as long as you’re careful.” She wasn’t going to let this go. Time to step in and save the poor boy.

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid with the girls at school,” I vowed, knowing it a promise I could easily keep.

  “That doesn’t ease my mind, Gabriel.”

  “I swear on my life.” I made a quick cross over my heart and then turned to close the back of the Jeep. We needed to hit the road if we were going to get to school before every other freshman and their parents descended on campus. Somehow, Trevor had managed to convince our parents it’d be good for us to drive down by ourselves. I could kiss him for that, because I’d been dreading the idea of Mom and DeeDee dragging us around campus all day to see the sights.

  2

  Trevor

  Gabe kept glancing over at me as he drove down the interstate but didn’t push me to tell him what was on my mind after that first comment about me being quiet. That was good because I still hadn’t sorted out my thoughts, so there was no way I could tell him I suddenly had doubts about what he called the natural progression of our relationship. He’d sold me on attending UNC Wilmington, even though I’d dreamed of going to Duke. But Gabe didn’t have the grades for Duke, which meant it was either UNCW together or try and make a long-distance relationship work. Neither were valid options.

  Now that we didn’t have to worry about being caught in the act, I was beginning to rethink this plan. The only thing that scared me more than being with Gabe was losing him. He was a part of every single memory I had from childhood. Our mothers were best friends too, so much that our grandparents teased that they couldn’t do anything without the other, including pregnancy. To hear my grandma tell it, Aunt Gwen told everyone she was pregnant at Christmas dinner, and Mom broke down crying. Everyone thought they’d had another miscarriage until she confessed that she, too, was pregnant. Joint baby showers, joint baptisms, joint birthday parties since we were born three weeks apart. You name a celebration, and we were there together. I’d be lost if we got to Wilmington and Gabe realized we’d made a huge mistake.

  I knew he’d want me to tell him what was bothering me, but then he’d try and find a way to calm me down. He’d tell me I was borrowing trouble, but I wasn’t so sure I was. Mom and Dad kept encouraging me to spread my wings, told me what a great opportunity college had been for them, how much they’d changed between their first day of school and their last. What if the same happened to us?

  The Jeep slow
ed and Gabe eased off the highway. There wasn’t much in this part of the state, so it made sense to stop and stretch our legs when we could. Him more than me, since he always complained there was no legroom in the Jeep. There was, unless you were a mutant with Stretch Armstrong legs. I was confused when Gabe didn’t pull into the gas station on the left but, instead, drove into a vacant lot. He parked the Jeep and unbuckled, turning in his seat.

  “Okay, now that we don’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping, tell me what’s on your mind. For real, this time,” he insisted.

  A lump formed in my throat as I remembered I’d never won a battle of wills against him. Gabe was a stubborn ass at times, but this time, it was because he was worried about me. About us. About this thing we were doing together. “I’m scared, Gabe.”

  He curled a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. I closed my eyes and inhaled his spicy cologne, the scent I’d grown to associate with home since he’d gotten his first bottle for Christmas one year. “Talk to me, babe. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

  “There is. What if we get down there and realize we don’t work when we’re constantly in one another’s space? What if you decide you can’t deal with me obsessively straightening the room or I get sick of you leaving your dirty laundry wherever it falls?”

  “You see those as things that’ll drive us apart, but we’ve got a leg up on everyone else,” he reassured me. “We already know everything about one another, so I know to try and pick up after myself, and maybe you’ll learn to overlook my messes.”