M/M- Ripped (Boys Of Summer)

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M/M- Ripped (Boys Of Summer) Page 7

by Mia Downing


  Gavin would be better off if Erik went on with his plan to move to California at the end of summer. The pain from that would be easier to bear than the pain he’d feel when Erik pushed Gavin too hard, too close. That’s why Gavin had sent him away after their first kiss.

  Another lifeguard walked over to Gavin. They started chatting, laughing, and her dark blonde head tossed back in a little too much glee. Gavin smiled in return and went into full-blown jock mode, the lie so easy for him to slide into.

  Erik sighed and shifted away, unable to watch when all he wanted was to talk to Gavin. To say thanks again. And goodbye. He slid off the picnic table. He’d try again tomorrow.

  “Hey.”

  Erik turned, his heart in his throat. “Gavin.”

  Gavin had just tugged on a white T-shirt, his skin even more bronze against the starkness. He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Why didn’t you come over?”

  Erik shrugged.

  Gavin nodded, looked a little confused, but not the least bit shell-shocked, thank God. “I’m off now. I wanted to spend the evening with you. I was going to shower quick and stop by.”

  The surge of emotion through his body reminded him of the strength of the rip current. Happiness, sadness, desire all swirled like deadly water inside him. “You could have texted me.”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise, me springing you for the evening. Get ice cream, maybe. As awesome as your mom is, she must be getting on your nerves by now.”

  “Yeah.”

  Gavin frowned. “You want to come to the apartment? We can talk.”

  “No.” Erik did have a lot to say and no idea how to say it all, but the apartment had beds. He wanted Gavin in a bed, badly.

  “Okay.” Gavin shoved his hands in his pockets and cocked his head. “You want to eat? You look pretty beat still.”

  “No, I’m good.” He was beat because he’d done nothing but think for two days. Almost dying meant he felt differently than before. He’d changed and the rules were different. He was living half a life, waiting for something that would never be. Gavin would never believe he was strong enough to love, to deserve love. Demanding that of Gavin would kill Erik, faster than the rip current.

  Erik sat back down on the picnic table, scared as hell.

  “You okay, man? You’re freaking me out.” Gavin sat next to him on the picnic table, his thigh pressing against Erik’s. An electrical current snapped through his skin, zapping along his leg, connecting with his gut where it all swirled and built into something hotter.

  “I can’t do this.” The words sounded foreign to his ears, even though he’d said them a million times to the mirror earlier. Erik yanked his leg from Gavin’s.

  “Do what?”

  “I can’t live half a life. That’s what I’m living. Half a life.”

  “You depressed or something? That’s what I feel when I’m depressed.”

  “No. Yes.” Erik swallowed. He’d never been depressed before. “Maybe.”

  “Jesus,” Gavin muttered. “Why are you living half a life?”

  “Because I’m not being honest with myself about what I want.”

  “Jesus. What the hell do you want that you can’t just spit it out? You always seemed so simple. I’m the complicated one.” Gavin’s face screwed up in puzzlement. “I’m sorry, but I don’t get this.”

  Erik ignored him, gathered his balls, and said, “I’ve thought a lot, and I’m going to move out to my uncle’s in California. I can work from anywhere with my job, and I’d like to see that side of the country. My mom and dad think it’s a great idea.”

  That was a lie. A fucking lie on so many fronts. He didn’t want to leave Gavin. He was a dickwad for running three thousand miles away because he was afraid Gavin would never allow himself to fully love him.

  His mom was pissed as all hell about the idea. She’d been even more pissed that he hadn’t said anything to Gavin before the picnic. So when she cornered him yesterday, she’d gone up one side of him and down the other, telling him he was a shitty friend. Yeah, his mother said shitty. Worse, he felt shitty.

  “What? You’re moving?” Gavin looked even more confused, and then the words must have sunk in because shell-shocked returned full force, along with a flash of deep pain. “Jesus. No.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you need me here. But I can’t be here. I need to move on.”

  Gavin ran one hand over his face and smacked his other on the surface of the picnic table. “Can we discuss this?”

  “Why? There’s no point. I’m leaving, that’s that.” That sounded really firm for a change. He liked that. “I need to start living, and I’m not living.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For?” Gavin swallowed, and the confused look mingled with the pain. “I know we’re guys, and we don’t do the whole talking thing, but I’m confused. I know you’ve had a shitty week. So have I. I don’t think that’s reason to pack up your wagon and head to L.A. to pan for gold.”

  Erik bit the bullet and went for the truth. “I can’t wait for you any longer. Almost dying has shown me that I can’t wait. Life is too short to love you from a distance. I want to be able to love you, all of you. If I can’t do that, at least in private, then I need to move on.”

  Erik glanced at Gavin’s shell-shocked face, the tanned skin pale underneath. His heart told him this was so fucking wrong, and he should wait. His head pushed him to keep going. Rip the bandage free. “I love you, Gavin. I have loved you since forever. I’m sorry. I know it hurts, and I’m a shitty friend to leave you. But I think my staying will hurt you more than me leaving you.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know you, and I know me. You’ll go with the flow and I’ll feel guilty because I’ve turned you into something you don’t want, like when I made you go to chess club with me because I thought we could do it together.”

  “I liked chess.”

  “But you liked me more, and you went because I wanted you to go. It wasn’t what you wanted.” But Gavin had gone and never complained. “All you want is for me not to leave. You love me, but not the way I love you.”

  “We made love.”

  “We had sex,” Erik corrected softly.

  Panic washed over Gavin, pushing him under the surface of faked calm, drowning him. His breath lingered somewhere else, and there was no way in hell he could catch it. “It felt different. With you.”

  “Yes. But were you controlling me with cuffs and a blindfold because you loved me and wanted to take me higher, or were you controlling me because you were afraid I’d love you. There’s a big difference. I did make love to you, in the shower. I put every ounce of love I had for you into that blowjob. But you were too far gone to notice that.”

  Not true. He’d felt that. God, he’d felt that. But he was drowning, and if he opened his mouth, he’d die. He felt it, ripped at the seams. So unsafe.

  Erik cocked his head in that reasoning way of his that meant he was right and that Gavin had to listen and come to the same conclusion. “Would you let me love you if you weren’t practically bleeding from your soul? I know you love me, Gav. I saw it in your eyes when you saved me, and every time you open your mouth to defend me, I hear it. But staying means I’ll want to love you back. Are you going to let me love you?”

  “Jesus.” Gavin sat on the picnic table and ran his hands through his hair, his elbows resting on his knees, his feet on the seat. He wanted to believe, but those fucking, poisonous words his parents screamed at him year after year ruled his head. “I’m not worth your love.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Gavin’s head shot up. “What?”

  Erik looked pissed as hell, like the time Gavin ran over his laptop with his truck by accident. “Grow a set of balls. You need to stand up for yourself for a change. Stop throwing yourself in the dumpster, in the locker. That bully is not worth my love.”

  “I’m a bully.”

  �
�To yourself, yes.” Erik nodded, but he took Gavin’s hand in his and squeezed it. “You had a shitty life. I get it. Your sister died, I get that. And you rose above all that and became this wonderful, beautiful, clean, and sober guy. You paint magnificent things. Your soul is in every one of those paintings, laid out for the world to see.

  “You said the other day that the negative words caused more damage than a beating, and you’re letting those words define you. You let them come into your world and toss the good you in the dumpster.”

  “I don’t.” But he did, and he could feel a part of himself curling up, into a ball, wanting to escape being ripped to shreds inside. The need for a beer, a toke, anything to get him high and away hit him freight train hard, square in the chest.

  “What did they tell you, Gav? What words hurt you?”

  “No!” He squeezed his eyes shut. Small and weak, and no one would protect him. No one ever protected him until Erik came into his life.

  “You’re going to let the words win?” Erik taunted.

  “What if they’re true?” His worst fear, right there. So stupid, because the rational part of him knew they weren’t. But sometimes, it was much easier to believe the filth others said.

  “Then I’ll tell you they’re true, and we’ll find a way to survive it.”

  Long moments passed in silence except for the crickets chirping in the grass. Fireflies danced along the edge of the wooded barrier between the pavilion and the beach. He loved Erik. If he could share that horrible, sick fantasy, he could share the words, right? Gavin swallowed the bile and searched for one of the less powerful words and tossed it up in a weak serve. “I’m weak.”

  “Okay. Not true. Not physically, not mentally.” Erik’s hand slid to his shoulder, kneading the tight muscles there.

  “I’m a disgrace.”

  “Not true. I’m so proud of you, Gav.”

  He closed his eyes, because this next one stung. He’d heard this one since the beginning of time. “I’m stupid.”

  “Absolutely not true. You have dyslexia. You got all A’s and B’s in college-level courses in high school. You were on the honor roll in college despite being high all the time.”

  He nodded. Breathed deep. Went deeper. “No one will ever love me. I don’t deserve it. I’m not good enough.”

  Erik grabbed his chin and forced him to look him in the eye. “I love you.”

  Gavin trembled, hating how weak he felt as he met Erik’s loving gaze head on. Big, big serve, up and over the net. “I don’t deserve to live.”

  “Oh, Gav.” Erik enveloped him in his arms, tugging him close and hard. Fierce. “No one deserves to live more than you. If you hadn’t lived, I would have died two days ago.”

  Gavin inhaled deep, catching the gentle spice of Erik’s aftershave, the same brand Erik’s dad used. He let Erik hold him, despite a part of him wanting to run, hide, drink. Erik’s arms felt safe.

  Erik’s lips touched his neck. “You okay, Gav?”

  He nodded against Erik’s chest. He felt better. Saying the words…it was like being set free. “Sometimes, I just wanted to die. It was like being trapped in this haunted mansion and fucking scary things jumping out and grabbing you and screaming shit and no one would let you out.”

  “You’re out, Gav. Look at me.” Gavin looked up from Erik’s chest, and Erik smoothed Gavin’s jaw with his thumb. “You’re out. Those words can’t hurt you here. I love you.”

  “You’re leaving.”

  Erik sighed. “Will you stand up for yourself? Will you put the bully to rest?”

  He wanted to, but fuck was it scary. “I can’t change overnight.”

  “Will you try?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you need to stand up for yourself. Right now. Tell me what I want to hear.”

  “I love you.”

  “That’s not the issue. You know that.”

  Gavin pulled away from Erik and dragged a hand through his hair, tortured still. He never trusted words, especially not the positive ones. Maybe because words were never his friends. Being dyslexic meant the words were sometimes confusing going in and though he usually had no problem vocally, the words were still scary, especially when those words involved how he felt about Erik. Painting had been a much easier route to expression, but he couldn’t paint Erik. It would take for-freaking-ever.

  “I’ll show you.” He jumped from the picnic table, jogged to his car in the parking lot, the single light a dull, yellow gleam in the growing dusk. His vehicle and Erik’s were the only ones left. He grabbed a bag in the front seat, then a blanket and trotted back to Erik, giddy, terrified, and turned-on, all at the same time. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To the beach. You’re going to make love to me. I’m going to let you.”

  Chapter Seven

  I get to make love to Gavin.

  Erik was fairly sure he was dreaming as he stood in the dusky pavilion, staring at Gavin as he stood there patiently, blanket under one arm, his beach bag over his arm. He shifted nervously but held out his hand, ready to take the next step. His Gavin, ready to prove he was worthy.

  Erik glanced around wildly. “What? No, not here. What if the cops come?”

  Gavin dropped his hand. “Randy’s on duty tonight. I often leave my car here, and he knows yours. As long as we’re gone by eleven, he won’t care. And he’ll call first.” Randy was a friend from high school, and he’d been with the police department for a year now.

  Erik’s eyes narrowed, still thinking this was too good to be true. “Do you take lovers to the beach often?”

  “No. I paint on the beach, sometimes, in the full moon. It’s not quite full tonight, but it’s enough. I’ll show you when we get home. The light is incredible.” Gavin held out his hand again. “Okay?”

  Erik took his hand, relishing the warm strength. “Okay.”

  They walked, hand in hand, down to the sand. Gavin smoothed the blanket out, got out a strip of condom packets and the lube, then turned to Erik. “You want that fantasy? Me on the lifeguard stand? Now’s the time.”

  Erik stared at the little pile of condoms and lube blanket-side. “You have lube and condoms in the car.”

  As soon as Erik said it, he wished he hadn’t. He knew Gavin was…experienced. He also knew Gavin loved him. Damn his nervousness.

  Gavin blanched. “When I plan on making love to you, yes. I put that stuff in earlier. I haven’t had a lover since I’ve been home full time. Just you. Only you.” He stepped closer and tugged Erik’s hips to connect with his in a blaze of heated groins. “I wasn’t planning on letting you go, Erik. I woke up when you almost died, as scared as I am. I knew you’d need more. I was going to fumble my way through trying to give you more.”

  “You’ll let me make love to you.” Erik sighed and sagged against him, relieved. Finally willing to believe. “Yes. God, yes. Let me love you.”

  Gavin nodded. “I want to hop in the water first, though. I’m sweaty.”

  “You can’t,” Erik said, his hands tightening on Gavin’s hips, his fingers digging into the skin there. It was stupid to be afraid, but he couldn’t help the gurgle of fear bubbling to the surface.

  Gavin let his lips brush Erik’s. “The water is calm. No currents. I’ll just go in a bit, get wet, okay? I won’t die on you.”

  Erik nodded but didn’t look sure. “Hurry.”

  Gavin kissed him, quick, then ran down to the water and jumped in.

  Erik watched earnestly from shore, wondering if he’d ever swim again. Not without that churning fear, probably. Gavin didn’t go far, his head visible in the moonlight, the light an ivory sparkle through the spikes of his wet hair.

  God, Gavin had been through so much shit. Erik felt like an asshole for making Gavin go to that dark place, to say the words that had haunted him for so long. But in truth, they were nothing more than what Erik expected. Hurtful, damaging yet so, so simple to say. If you were told those damaging words long enough,
obviously you believed it. He could see it in Gavin’s eyes afterward. He didn’t want to believe, not in Erik’s arms. But he did. That would take time.

  Erik sighed. God help him, how could he leave?

  Gavin emerged, dripping in the moonlight, wiping the water from his eyes, his trunks clinging in that way that turned Erik on so much. It wasn’t just the physical attraction, either. Love burst with desire, melding into a hot inferno of need. He needed Gavin, needed to love him, to feel his arms around him, almost more than he needed to breathe.

 

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