Come Home

Home > Other > Come Home > Page 13
Come Home Page 13

by Raleigh Ruebins


  “The project is way bigger than me at this point,” I said. “Does Caleb hate everyone at the other firms? At the Department of Transportation and the County Council, too?”

  “I’m sure he would if he knew them,” I said. “But he doesn’t hate you. Just wants what’s best for the island.”

  “We all want that,” he said.

  I turned, shaking my head at him, giving him a hard glare. “And you’re willing to bear the brunt of all this—all this turmoil on the island, getting physically hurt—just to be the spokesman for this?”

  “I didn’t get physically hurt because of the project. Marcie just wears some ridiculously textured jewelry, apparently.”

  “But you could get physically hurt,” I said.

  Gavin shook his head. “The people here aren’t violent like that,” he said. “I know they aren’t. They’re just passionate, and I… understand.”

  I pulled in a long breath. “Lordy, it’s been one hell of a day.”

  It was an understatement. I’d woken up next to him the past two mornings, but this was the first time we were having much of any conversation since two nights ago. I didn’t like the strange feeling I had that I was giving home to an enemy.

  He wasn’t an enemy. He was one of the best people I’d ever known. But there was still a small part of me that was very glad he hadn’t parked his car in front of my house. It wasn’t that I was ashamed to be seen with him, I just didn’t want to invite unnecessary trouble.

  But it also still felt like I was a double agent. A lot of people on the island would call me a traitor just for having Gavin in my house. But when I saw him with even a small amount of blood on his face, my heart had leapt inside me. I loved him. I had to protect him—I’d protected him from Kinley when he was a teenager, and I wanted to protect him from Kinley now. Seeing him hurt was like having one of my own limbs injured.

  I was being split in two. I didn’t know whether to throw him out or pull him into my bed.

  And the fact that I’d liked having him in my bed so much filled me with another, much deeper guilt. It wasn’t something I should be getting used to, at all.

  “If you’d rather go back to your place or the cottage tonight, it’s okay, Gav,” I said. “I think you’re right that you’re not going to be harmed, even if you may encounter some shouting and some picket signs.”

  “I don’t feel unsafe,” he said, “but… I also just… like being around you.”

  Guilt hardened inside me like a heavy stone. “I like being around you, too.”

  Gavin’s eyes rested on mine, weary but crinkling up at the edges from his sad smile. I was his only safe haven in the storm of his return to Kinley, and yet he had no idea that just minutes ago, I’d been wondering if I should kick him out.

  “Come here,” I said with a sigh, pulling him into a close hug.

  I woke with a start, my heart slamming hard in my chest.

  It was dark in my room, and Gavin was asleep beside me. In my dream, there had been a fight—maybe multiple fights—but I couldn’t remember if I’d been the one participating in them or simply watching them.

  It had been ugly, though. My heart was racing. The dim light from the street light outside came through the shutters of the window, painting faint golden lines across my body. My skin was covered in a sheen of sweat.

  The clock on my nightstand read two in the morning.

  I slid out of bed, catching my breath before padding out to the bathroom. I splashed my face with water, but it wasn’t enough. I ran the shower, leaving the water slightly cool, and quickly rinsed off.

  I wasn’t the type to have nightmares—my dreams typically consisted of things that belonged in something closer to Candy Land or a Lisa Frank tableau. I once had a dream that I was running through a field of sunflowers with fuzzy golden retriever puppies, and that hadn’t even been the cutest thing I’d dreamed that week.

  But this dream had been more like a murkier, less exciting version of a horror movie. I was rattled, like I’d just been through a haunted house.

  I made my way back into the bedroom slowly, trying to stay as quiet as possible and not disturb Gavin or Caleb and Meatball upstairs. I shut my bedroom door with a quiet click, and tossed my gym shorts into the hamper at the side of the room. I was naked after my shower, but I knew exactly how squeaky the closet door was. I needed to be sneaky if I wanted any chance at grabbing clean shorts.

  I pushed it open slowly—like a goddamn snail—but every millimeter seemed to be the equivalent of the world’s highest-pitched trumpet sounding through the air.

  “Fuck,” I mouthed noiselessly as I pushed it open another foot and it squeaked even louder.

  “It’s okay,” Gavin said from the bed. I was so startled that I jumped, knocked my knee into the door, and it swung open the rest of the way, creaking loud as ever.

  I turned back toward the bed. “Jesus Christ, Pep, you’re awake?”

  “I’ve been awake the whole time,” he said softly. “Can’t sleep.”

  “Oh my God,” I said.

  “I know. I appreciate you trying to be quiet with the door. But you can just come back to bed.”

  “I will. I’m just a little bit naked right now.”

  He didn’t respond.

  I felt around in the dark of the closet for my basket of gym shorts and found my favorite soft pair for sleeping in. I tugged them on and then tucked myself back into bed, letting out a long sigh.

  “You were whimpering a little in your sleep,” Gavin said, turning to lie on his side in bed, facing me. The window was behind him, and the light coming in from the slats framed him in a series of little halos.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. Bad dream.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. He reached out, rubbing my arm with his warm palm, and it felt like fucking heaven.

  “I barely even remember it,” I said. It was especially true now—with Gavin’s hand on me, it was like all the strange remnants of the dream had just melted away. “Just an anxiety dream.”

  “But you don’t get anxious,” he said. “That’s my job, remember?”

  I puffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “I’m stressed, too, but that’s no real surprise,” he said.

  “Worried about tomorrow?”

  “Oh yes,” he said.

  “I get it,” I said.

  “I’d never admit it to anyone else,” he said.

  “Really? It seems like you handle everything amazingly,” I said. “Positive and confident. That’s just how you are nowadays.”

  “God, Hunt, it’s an everyday struggle,” he said, lying back in bed and looking up at the ceiling. “Every day. All of it is practiced. I still sometimes feel like I used to feel back in high school.”

  “You don’t seem anything like you were in high school, trust me,” I said.

  “Do you remember the library?” he asked.

  I nodded. I was a little surprised to hear Gavin even mention the library. In high school, Gavin had always been nervous and quiet, but he had blossomed so much over the course of college and his early twenties, and it showed. I had never really been sure how much of it was real and how much was an elaborate version of “fake it ‘til you make it,” but I’d been as convinced as anyone.

  Every day in high school, Gavin had eaten lunch in the library. Ostensibly it had been because he was studying—he had always been studying, during any free moment.

  But he also hadn’t felt comfortable in the big, unruly environment of the cafeteria at lunch. Back then, Gavin hadn’t known how to handle himself when people approached him. He was always a little lost.

  “I remember the library,” I said. “I remember that I always would steal some of your orange, and then you started bringing in two oranges each day for lunch.”

  “One for you and one for me,” he said.

  “Some days, eating lunch in there with you was the best part of my day,” I said.

  “Oh, p
lease. You don’t have to say that.”

  “It’s true,” I said.

  I was a social butterfly in high school, and it was true that I knew every kid in school and got along fairly well with them. But I also liked a break from the chaos, and being around Gavin had always felt right. I never had any hesitation about who I could be around him or how I should act around him, unlike almost everyone else.

  I didn’t have to be anyone but myself around Gavin, and I always knew he would accept me. I always knew he was happy to see me, too, more than anyone else. I hadn’t realized how completely necessary our friendship was until we’d stopped seeing each other as often, and it had been like losing my other half.

  Christ, I sounded like I was talking about a husband, not a best friend. I ran my palms over my face, trying to return to the present moment.

  “I remember one week, you got obsessed with ancient Egyptian culture,” I said. “You read me various interesting passages from books about it during lunch. I will never forget that ancient Egyptian men and women both wore makeup.”

  “Holy shit, did I really do that?” Gavin said, shifting in bed, smiling over at me. “I don’t even remember it. God, my version of peer pressure was making you learn facts.”

  “Oh yes,” I said. “You taught me about the Egyptians’ makeup, and another time you were into Basenji dogs and you let me know that they were the only breed that doesn’t bark. And then sometime later you taught me that there were more microbes on the human body than there were human cells. That was just wild to me, and it got me on a kick with biology. And then… I ended up majoring in it.”

  “I had no clue I had a part in that,” he said.

  “Yeah. You’re responsible for my entire life trajectory, Gav. How’s that feel?”

  “Honestly? Pretty fucking wild.”

  I laughed, propping one arm under the cold bottom of my pillow. “I’m serious, though. You were always my favorite. I always preferred being at a quiet library table with you to talking with anyone in the cafeteria.”

  He was quiet for a moment, watching me, as if he was processing what I’d told him. “Did you really?” he said softly.

  “Yes. When I was around you, everything was easier. You were my person, you know?”

  He swallowed, pausing. Just when I was afraid I’d said too much, he finally spoke. “You were everything to me, Hunter.”

  I hummed. “I kind of always felt like I was just observing you, like I was happy to experience you, but I was witnessing a shooting star, or something. All you cared about was school and college and success.”

  “I cared about those. Still do. But… otherwise, you were kind of all I thought about.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “I’m—you—what? Really?”

  “I still do, Hunt,” he said, turning to lie on his back again. The light now splayed across his chest, perfectly defining the muscles in his chest. It was tantalizing. I tried to fixate on his face instead, but it was no less beautiful. “I’ve been… thinking a lot, these past few days. Too much.”

  “About what?”

  He shook his head, letting out a long breath. “The fact that I succeed and succeed and succeed in my career, but it’s always… momentary happiness. Brief, gone in a few minutes or a few days.”

  I nodded. I had never been as career-focused as Gavin—I was plenty happy with my position as a high school teacher—but hearing Gavin talk about his work like this was something entirely new.

  He was being incredibly vulnerable. And I realized that over the years, without me knowing it, Gavin’s career had slowly been an imaginary wedge between us. I’d thought it was the only thing he cared about.

  But now… he was telling me that wasn’t at all the case.

  “But when I’m with you, it’s so… different,” he said. “It’s a slow, lasting kind of happy. I know how cheesy that sounds. But it’s just true. You’re the one thing that’s always been truly good in my life.”

  God.

  And there went my heart.

  Gavin was turning to look at me now, his tired eyes beautiful in the low light, my enemy and also the person I’d always loved. I’d been wondering if I should even associate with him earlier today, and now he was in bed with me, being so earnest, so good, everything I’d ever want in a best friend.

  I couldn’t hold back when he was like this.

  I moved in closer toward him, pulling him against me in a hug. I kissed the top of his head. His hair smelled amazing, and I held him for a moment like that. His skin was warm against my own.

  I was surprised when I started to pull back and Gavin reached around me, keeping me close and tight, refusing to let me leave his side.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around me, stroking his palm down my back.

  “What are you sorry for?” I asked. “You’re amazing.”

  He ran his palm up and down along me, from my neck all the way to the small of my back, over and over. He was slow but firm, working against me in a comforting pattern. After a while, he stilled, and I thought he may have fallen asleep.

  But then he backed up. He held my gaze, his own eyes almost twinkling despite the low light. I felt like he was seeing straight through me to my soul.

  “It isn’t right,” he whispered.

  I knew what he meant immediately.

  I let out a breath I’d been holding, and I stroked my hand down the side of his torso, stopping at his hip. I gripped him there. It felt like the space between us was a magnet, one that was increasingly impossible to resist.

  “I know,” I said. “We’re… friends. You’re my best friend. I shouldn’t… we shouldn’t be…”

  “No, Hunter, you don’t know,” he said, his voice strained. He pulled back more, sitting up, leaning against the headboard and scrubbing his palms over his face. “All this… the night at Zeke’s… I enjoyed it. And I know you didn’t. Not in the way I did. And that’s very inappropriate, and I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but it’s been eating away at me, and Jesus, I—”

  “Hey,” I whispered. I reached out to put a hand against his jawline. “I liked that night too. Loved it, actually. I just… need to keep you, Gavin. I can’t bear the thought of losing you as my best friend. For any reason. Can you just promise me you’ll always be my friend? Can you promise it?”

  “Of course,” he said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding once. “Then can I admit something to you?”

  His eyes looked a little scared, but a whole lot more desperate.

  “Yes. Please, please tell me anything. Everything.”

  Some switch had been flipped in the room. It was our space, now, like some floating, warm cocoon where nothing else mattered other than the love we shared for one another. Our hideout from the chaos of the world. A place where other rules didn’t apply.

  I swallowed, biting my lower lip gently. “I want you so fucking badly,” I whispered.

  It was a risk. But it was also the truth. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to tell me something.

  “Jesus, Hunter,” he said, and for a split second he hesitated, and I wondered if he was going to leave. But then he spoke again, and I exhaled. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” he said, his voice almost a plea.

  That was all I needed to hear.

  I sat up slightly in bed, leaning in and pressing my lips to Gavin’s. This was what I’d been fighting against all night, that persistent magnet between the two of us, his lips absolutely irresistible.

  I hadn’t even realized how badly I’d wanted it until my lips were on his.

  All I’d planned to do was kiss him softly—no ulterior motives, no expectations beyond that. But I hadn’t expected him to pull me in closer, to kiss me back so hard, not like an exploratory experiment, but something more necessary.

  He was hungry for it, too.

  I kissed him deeply, shifting so that my body was pressed t
ight against his. My cock was already hard and nothing had even really happened—I wondered idly when the last time was where I’d wanted someone so badly. Had I ever wanted someone this much?

  It was alarming. Despite having had so many hookups before in my life, despite the fact that I’d considered myself a very experienced person, this felt like entirely new territory.

  I’d never felt pulled to someone like this before. It was a strange feeling, a shocking, brand-new one that I could never have imagined I’d feel for him.

  But goddamnit, I wanted him. I wanted my best friend in every way it was fucking possible to want someone.

  10

  Gavin

  Every last bit of me that had been holding back—for so long, for my entire life—had just crumbled and blown away in the wind.

  Hunter was like a goddamn drug. The only one I’d ever needed.

  I couldn’t resist him—nothing in me could—and having his body on top of mine was one of the better things I’d felt in my entire life.

  His tongue was warm as it slid against my own, and I sighed into him as he deepened the kiss. My cock throbbed with every shift and movement Hunter made.

  It was so unexpected, like something out of one of my dreams. He had his arms around me, pulling me as tight as he could, and the scent of his shower-fresh skin completely intoxicating. The weight of him on top of me. The smooth slip of our shorts against one another, only another reminder of how little was between us.

  He rocked his hips as he kissed me, and there it was: his cock, hard and sliding against mine through the fabric of the shorts. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

  A million reasons why this was bad were shooting through my brain, but I wasn’t able to give them any thought right now. There was no space for them—Hunter was taking up the entirety of my immediate attention, and his lips were so fucking soft against mine.

  For God’s sake, I could have kissed him for hours and probably come from it.

  He was kissing my neck, now, moving up to take my earlobe between his lips before kissing wet against the sensitive skin beneath it. My breathing was heavy—I wasn’t in control of it, or anything, really.

 

‹ Prev