Fresh Start: A Small Town Gay Romance (Cedarwood Beach Book 1)

by Rhys Everly

  "Yeah, I'd like that too," Leo replied, and we stared at each other as if the whole world depended on it.

  “Here’s your pancakes, boys,” Melody said, interrupting the little moment we were having by putting down the plates stacked high with pancakes, cream, and berries.

  “Thanks, Mel. You’re a star,” Leo said.

  “You know it,” Melody replied and walked away from the table.

  Leo turned his attention back to me.

  "Enough about me, what about you? What are you doing next? Spill the beans, Detective Strong."

  "There's nothing much to say. I have one more film to do before my contract expires, and if I'm honest, I don't know what I'm doing next," I said.

  "Does that mean your days as Detective Strong are over? How many more films are they going to make?"

  "The new contract they sent me is for another eight movies," I said.

  Leo gasped.

  "Eight movies? Eight movies? That's a lot. And I don't know if I should go all fanboy on you, or if I should say enough is enough. I mean I love Strong, but even for me that's a lot of movies."

  I nodded. It was a lot, and I’d had enough. As much as I loved the studio and my colleagues, I wanted a future away from Detective Strong and his superpowers. I wanted to experiment and do other, new things. Maybe do a rom-com or a thriller. I’d done a few dramatic parts and guest-starred in things over my years as a superhero, but nothing that meant much to me looking back. I wanted to be more than a handsome guy that was playing a vigilante.

  I didn't realize I’d actually said those things out loud until Leo replied and reached out for my hand.

  Well, that was new. I looked around us, but no one was paying any attention. Not even Melody.

  Leo really had me in his thrall, and I couldn't resist him. That was equal parts scary and exciting.

  "Wow, I can't imagine what it must feel like. But you do what feels right. In here." Leo tapped me over the heart and then touched his silverware, picking up his knife and fork. "Even if that means hanging up the Detective Strong hat and moving on. At the end of the day, you've done your part, spent twelve years doing it, it's time for pastures new," Leo said.

  I knew all that. Yet hearing it from another person, especially Leo, I felt understood. Encouraged. Now, whether I’d actually go ahead and do it was a different story. I just hoped, when the time came, I’d find the strength.

  "You're right. I know you're right," I replied and looked down at my plate and my warm pancakes.

  They were a sight to behold. Just like the man I was sharing this moment with. Without thinking too much about it, I reached for my phone and started taking pictures of the plate.

  It’d been a little while since I shared something with my followers. I’d spoiled them with daily pics for years, but since I didn’t want my location spoiled and ruined by the press, I’d kept posts to a minimum.

  But this? I needed to share. Since I couldn’t share him, I could share the pancakes at least.

  “What are you doing?” he asked me.

  “Insta,” I said, and Leo chuckled.

  “What are you? Twelve? You’re such a hipster. I love it,” he said.

  I explained to him why I chose this moment to take my phone out and take pictures, and his smile widened from ear to ear.

  “Aw, babe,” he said, and there was a pinch in my heart. “Can I see?” he asked, and I reached over the table with my phone.

  He slid his finger across my screen, going through the shots, and picked the best one. He then went on to pick the filter and the caption.

  “Nothing beats pancakes for breakfast. Especially when on a lovely vacation by the sea,” it read. Before I posted, I added some hashtags. It wasn’t my usual tone of voice for my posts, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered now but him.

  Leo pulled his hand back so he could eat the rest of his food. But as he did, he knocked a glass of orange juice, which spilled all over his front. He let out a curse and jumped up, also knocking his chair over, getting the attention of the other guests.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  Leo looked back at me and pursed his lips in an attempt at a smile.

  "I am. I can't believe I spilled juice all over me. I’m five apparently.”

  I laughed.

  "Do you want to go upstairs and change? I can wait down here and then we can go out if you want?" I said.

  "You're right. I'll just be two minutes," Leo said and started to leave.

  An idea struck me.

  "Should we go for a picnic? I saw on the brochure that Melody does picnic baskets to take out. I can order it while you're changing and then we can go as soon as you're ready."

  Leo smiled.

  "That would be great," he said and sped up the stairs.

  I wiped my mouth with a cloth and approached Melody to ask about the baskets.

  “Of course you can have one. Let me talk with my chef,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen. While she got the basket ready, I got my phone out and called my agent.

  "Hi Alice," I said.

  "Hi honey. To what do I owe the honor?" Alice said.

  “Can’t I call to check on one of my favorite people in the world?” I said.

  “Uh-oh. What have you done now? What do you want?”

  I laughed.

  "Have you had a chance to think about what I asked you last time we spoke?"

  "We've been over this, Alice. I'm not going through the contract ordeal with you over the phone. There’s something else, though."

  "And what would that be?" she asked. I didn't need to look at her to know she was bitter about my dismissal of the contract conversation. She was worried about me dropping out of the franchise. How could she not be? She was right to be.

  "Rumor has it there is a production for a Death Knight film in the works."

  I waited for her to take the hint, but all she came back with was: "Okay, and?"

  "Remember how you were asking me if I wanted to get involved in other projects as a producer?" I started.

  "Really? You want to diversify? OMG. Finally!” she said. “And am I right to assume you want to be involved in this production?"

  "Well, duh. Why else do you think I'd bring it up?"

  "Just double-checking, honey. I never know with you. Anyway. Exciting! Let me see what I can do," she said, and her excitement seeped through her tone and voice. Hopefully, she wouldn't mind me taking this as a next step instead of continuing with Detective Strong. If I got a producer’s role, then perhaps it would soften the blow. And it could help ease Leo’s worry over getting the part. I owed him that much.

  I thanked her and hung up just as Leo came downstairs, having changed into a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of jeans that hugged his body so tightly, I could see every curve and bulge. I had to look away before I’d have to hide a boner.

  "Are you ready?" Leo asked and climbed down the last couple of steps to meet me.

  “Just waiting for the picnic basket from Melody, but yes. Yes, I am.”

  Fourteen

  Leo

  Melody appeared with a picnic basket and a naughty grin that practically screamed with all the questions she had. I’d have to make sure we caught up before she exploded.

  We couldn't have asked for a more traditional basket if we had ordered it straight from the seventies. The red gingham cloth that was wrapped next to a selection of sandwiches was something I didn't see often. I couldn't even remember the last time I’d been for a picnic with anyone. Probably when I was a child.

  "This should cover you, guys. I've also put a blanket in there so you can lie down if you're so inclined," Mel said, looking from Dawson to me, and I seriously wanted to tell her to fuck off and stop being so obvious.

  The last thing I wanted was to scare Dawson. He was still in the closet, and he’d probably like to stay that way for the time being. Get the hint, sis.

  Dawson took the basket, and we went down the stairs and came out
onto the main street. The day was warm and the street busy, and all I wanted to do was take his hand and hold on to him, never let him go. But I couldn’t.

  So, I resorted to pointing out all the old places I’d hung out before and all the new places I’d yet to explore.

  We walked to the edge of the town and then took the path for the forest and trailed through the cedarwood trees that offered us a gentle breeze on this hot summer day.

  Being in Cedarwood Forest again after all these years, with Dawson, nonetheless, made me feel... at peace. It was so serene out here in the middle of nowhere. I enjoyed the countryside more than I dared to admit. And even though I’d ran away from this town, being back in its embrace gave me a sense of purpose again.

  My rehab center had been somewhere similarly remote in the UK, and it had helped me get back in touch with myself and embrace my inner demons. Even if some of those demons had come back to haunt me. Like Dawson Eldred.

  Not that I could complain now. I liked Dawson's haunting. After spending an entire day together, most of it in bed, I couldn't imagine going back to the way life used to be without him. I couldn't even begin to process how fucked up I felt every time the thought that we wouldn't see each other again struck me.

  If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that I wanted Dawson in my life. The fact that Dawson had also told me he wasn't letting go of me, either, made me hopeful. Hopeful for a new chapter in my life. A chapter where all my dreams came true.

  "You're very quiet," Dawson said and broke the peaceful silence of the forest.

  "I'm just thinking."

  "Thinking about what?"

  "You. Me. Life," I said, injecting nonchalance to my words.

  Dawson stopped and turned to face me. I looked at him and let Dawson take my hands.

  "What about me, you, and life?" he asked.

  I didn't want to be too forthcoming with him even though we had been completely open with each other the day before. We had shared so much of what had happened in our lives. We’d even said things that perhaps were too early to be said. And while it was true that we had known each other and had been with each other in the past, it felt too soon to admit to Dawson that imagining my life without him scared the crap out of me. That was twentieth-date material. Not picnic-after-a-day-long-fucking-session date material. I decided to say something more acceptable.

  "I was just thinking how much I like this. Being with you again. And if memory serves me right, we made a kickass couple."

  "We did indeed." Dawson smiled.

  "Do you remember Mr. Capaldi? That time he almost caught us making out backstage while the other guys were rehearsing?" I asked.

  Dawson glared at me with a knowing look and a cheeky grin appeared on his face.

  "How could I forget? I had a boner for the rest of the day thanks to you."

  We laughed. I didn't feel guilty. It had been a good year that we had together. The secrecy had been exhilarating at the time. It had made our adrenaline even stronger, and the hard-ons so much harder to get rid of.

  Thinking of the past and our relationship made me want to take Dawson again, but I composed myself. After all, we were supposed to be out here for a picnic. Well, almost.

  "So, tell me about this Helen."

  I started walking again, and Dawson followed suit. The sooner we got to the little cove, the better.

  "What about Helen?"

  "You said she fancies you. Were you never tempted to do something with her?"

  "Ew, no. She's like a sister to me at this point. I'm also so fabulously gay, I could never do that to her," Dawson said.

  The sun was now right above us, making me sweaty and dehydrated. I asked Dawson for some water, and my partner in crime retrieved a bottle from the picnic basket.

  "What about you? Any big crushes during your career," Dawson asked.

  We were almost at the cove. The splash of the waves called out to me, promising much hotter things than just a chatty trek.

  "No. I've had flings and some guys I was interested in, but no real big crushes, you know? I was too busy doing fashion shows and concerts to have any time for any emotional connections with anyone. I know it sounds pathetic, but…"

  "Pathetic? Have you been listening to anything I said to you last night? My sex and love life have been drier than the desert in the middle of August. You're not pathetic. At least you can walk out into the streets and hold your partner's hand and the worst thing that could happen is your pictures ending up in the tabloids," Dawson said.

  "Yeah, never mind I haven't had anyone to do that with. Besides, if I did, my good old bandmates would probably find one way or another to paint it in a negative light."

  How I’d ended up on such bad terms with my bandmates after six years, I didn’t know. I had hoped to make up and make peace with them, but after they almost outed me, I didn't want to speak to them ever again.

  "Can I admit something really naughty?" Dawson asked.

  I turned to look at Dawson and nodded, not sure what he was about to say.

  "You know when you were working for Nick Grant Menswear? What is it? Fourteen, fifteen years ago?" he asked.

  "Yeah," I said. “Something like that.”

  "Well, I used to collect all of your pictures from the magazines."

  "You did?"

  "I did. I used to have erm…an album where I would put everything I collected. And I liked looking at them sometimes," Dawson said.

  It was weird hearing this. I’d followed Dawson's career since we separated, but I never thought Dawson would have kept such close tabs on mine, and not only that, but also have a collection of all my work.

  "Okay, I admit this is unusual, but I don't see why that's naughty?"

  "Well…" Dawson hesitated and looked around him. I looked as well, but there was no one here. We were all by ourselves. "It was a…spank bank album."

  Had I heard right? Dawson's reaction reassured me that I had. He looked down at his feet and his cheeks turned a bright red. I wasn’t sure if I should say something to make the moment less awkward for him or react to the fact that Dawson used to wank over my photoshoots.

  "That is wildly…hot, and I'm so annoyed… I wasn't there to give you a hand," I finally said, stepping closer to Dawson so our pelvises, and growing erections, could grind together.

  I knew countless people in the world could have used my modeling and band pictures to touch themselves, but knowing that Dawson had done it, too, made me hungry for him. Dawson looked up, and I gave him a kiss.

  "You must think I'm a creep." Dawson smirked.

  I bit Dawson's lower lip and stayed there for a moment, teasing the man before I replied. "Just a little bit. But I like it."

  "Then you're a creep too."

  "Guilty as charged.” I laughed and groped Dawson. Dawson opened his mouth in shock, and I wasted no time in prodding my tongue into his mouth.

  "Come on, then. Let's have ourselves some picnic," I said and ran away to the edge of the forest and onto a little nook of a beach that was entirely private.

  Dawson followed behind me. When we both got to the shore, we stood there for a few moments while Dawson admired the view. The cove didn’t stretch further than a couple of miles, and the water glistened, reflecting the sunlight from above.

  “This is gorgeous,” Dawson said.

  “It is,” I said looking at him.

  Dawson blushed. He looked down at the basket and took the picnic cloth out to lay it on the sand. I got a few pebbles to put on the edges so it didn’t blow off, although it was highly unlikely with how hot and windless it currently was out here in the open.

  “Oh crap. We didn’t bring any swimming trunks,” Dawson said when he sat down.

  “Speak for yourself,” I said and pulled my jeans down to reveal my swim shorts.

  “Hey, that’s unfair,” Dawson complained.

  I put my thumbs under the waistband and looked at Dawson with as much want as I could put into my face.
r />   “You can borrow them if you want,” I said.

  “What about you?” he said, and when I pulled the shorts down, he looked around him in panic.

  “There’s no one here, baby. We can both go commando. In fact, I believe it’s one of the rules of this cove,” I said and threw my swim shorts in his face.

  My dick was already hard, so it cast its own shadow on the sand, a detail that Dawson didn’t fail to notice.

  “You’re such a tease,” he said.

  “Come on,” I said and started running toward the sea. “Last one to the water tops.”

  Dawson jumped off the picnic cloth and ran behind me while trying to take his clothes off.

  I got to the water first and dived under it straight away. When I came out, Dawson splashed me.

  “Fuck. Do I have to top?” he shouted at me.

  “I mean... you don’t have to,” I laughed, and he attacked me with his mouth.

  “I’d love to fuck you. But only if you promise to fuck me first.”

  Instead of shaking his hand, I took hold of his cock under the water and rubbed it.

  “You’re a motherfucking tease. And I lov—uh,” he moaned before he could finish his sentence.

  He reached out for my erection and palmed mine while I palmed his, all while we kissed.

  His lips were salty and his tongue forceful, but passionate. Before I could come, Dawson straddled me and lifted his butt over my cock.

  “Will you?” he asked. “I’m negative.”

  I didn’t usually do this. Considering the high HIV risk for gay men in London, I’d learned to not trust anyone and always used a hood. But I believed Dawson when he told me he hadn’t had sex in a long time. It’d taken me the whole day to get his hole not to be so tight. And I trusted him. As stupid as it sounded, I did.

  “Me too,” I said and grabbed my cock and pushed the head against his sphincter.

  Dawson leaned into my ear and bit my lobe, moaning as he took deep breaths to take me in.

  “I’ve never done this before,” I said to him as I tried my best to pound at him hard, but it was proving quite the challenge underwater, so I went for a smooth and slow pace instead.