Page 25 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

Adonis whining woke Connor. The heat that had Connor sweating through his shirt disappeared, and cold air washed over him. He groaned, upset to be disturbed, and blinked to awareness. The early dawn sky greeted him as he heard a splash. By the time he’d groggily gotten into a sitting position to see the ocean past his feet, he also heard the footsteps.

“Connor!”

Trevor called. There was stark relief in his voice. Connor twisted his torso and watched Trevor approach. He wore sleeping shorts and an oversized t-shirt, and his hair was wild like he’d just rolled out of bed.

Connor rubbed his eyes, sighing in annoyance. He’d been in a deep sleep, and his body didn’t appreciate being dragged from it. Nor did his patience.

“Where’s the fire?”

Connor muttered, annoyed.

Trevor released a short exhale. “Laurence told me you weren’t in your room. After the news last night, I was worried. Not to mention your phone was—were you sleeping out here?”

Trevor changed course mid-sentence.

Connor rubbed his cheek, trying to massage out a mark he could feel. “I fell asleep when I came out,”

Connor said, his voice croaking in exhaustion.

“It is far from safe to fall asleep on the dock, Connor. Never mind the danger of falling into the ocean—it’s freezing out here.”

Yeah. Now that Trevor had scared away his little hot box, it was. Correction; his big hot box. Connor got to his feet with a groan, his body sore from sleeping on the hard ground. “I might disown you, Trevor,”

Connor informed him.

“You can’t disown me for worrying about you.”

“I was in a deep sleep. It was wonderful. And now I’m cold.”

“Come in. You need to get warmed up.”

Connor trudged past Trevor. “What time is it?”

“A little after five,”

Trevor said.

“Five? What was Laurence doing going into my room at five? I’m disowning him, too,”

Connor muttered darkly.

“I think you need to get a bit more sleep.”

“And what would I be doing if someone hadn’t stomped down to wake me up?”

Connor asked, voice biting in sarcasm. When Trevor didn’t reply, guilt prodded at Connor’s heart. His anger cooled quick, though not his annoyance. Adonis had wanted to spend the night with him, and their time had gotten cut short. Again.

But it wasn’t like Trevor was aware of that.

“Sorry,”

Connor said, glancing at Trevor’s pensive expression. “For the tone, only.”

“I wouldn’t say I stomped,”

Trevor replied after a moment of thought. “And it’s a sand path anyway, so what does it matter?”

“It matters if it wakes me up.”

“Now you can sleep in your bed, at least.”

Trevor cast Connor a wary look. “You’ll be in a better mood after a few more hours of it, I suspect.”

Trevor suspected wrong.

Laurence waited on the porch for them. He looked as relieved as Trevor had when he’d seen Connor on the dock. Connor levelled his irritation at Laurence. “What did I say yesterday about waking me up this early?”

“You were sleeping out there?”

Laurence asked, confused. “I was worried when you weren’t in your room.”

Connor walked up the steps to Laurence, stopping only when they were on level footing, and Connor could use his height to stare down his nose at Laurence. “And why were you in my room at five a.m.?”

Laurence’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands grasping his sleeves as he jittered with nerves. “I just—”

Trevor’s hand clapped Connor’s shoulder and pulled him back a step out of Laurence’s space. “None of the intimidation tactics,”

Trevor said pointedly. “Use your words.”

“I used my words yesterday,”

Connor pointed out. “They did about as much as yours.”

“I do listen to Dad,”

Laurence said defensively. “I thought you might be upset.”

“While fast asleep?”

“I thought you might not be able to sleep,”

Laurence said. “I was going to offer a hug or something nice to eat if that was the case. I snuck in, so I wouldn’t wake you if you were sleeping.”

His face grew redder as he spoke, and Connor took in his embarrassed demeanour. “I was worried when you weren’t there, so I got Dad.”

The acid exterior of his grumpiness melted. He couldn’t be sharp and mean when Laurence had been worried about him. When he was just being sweet.

“I’m not upset,”

Connor said.

“Yeah, okay.”

Laurence looked away from Connor, his gaze skittering across the ground. His eyes were glassy like he was fighting back tears.

The guilt rose up, overwhelming and strong.

“Come on then,”

Connor said. “Give me the hug.”

Laurence’s gaze jerked to Connor’s face, his eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah—ugh,”

Connor grunted as Laurence launched himself against him. Very wisely, Trevor kept his hand on Connor’s shoulder to spare them from ending up in the sand. Laurence wrapped his arms tightly around Connor’s midsection. “You shouldn’t read anything anyone writes about you,”

Laurence said into Connor’s shirt. Connor had to strain his ears to interpret the shirt-obscured words.

“I don’t,”

Connor said. Since the very first few days after the story broke, he’d avoided all media like the plague.

“And you’re not going to go to jail,”

Laurence said.

“Yeah, I’d rather not.”

“I’ll make sure of it,”

Laurence said fiercely.

Connor refused to snort or laugh—Laurence was serious about trying to help him, and Connor wasn’t going to mock him for it. He’d learned his lesson two seconds ago that he’d only regret it if he upset Laurence. And he’d end up taking it back, anyway.

Connor petted Laurence’s back. “And what was the nice thing you were going to feed me to cheer me up?”

“Homemade soup and bread. With the bread fresh out of the oven and still hot enough the butter melts onto it.”

“I’ll take you up on it,”

Connor said. “And after.”

He glanced at Trevor. “I’m going out on my paddleboard.”

“Please don’t tell me you go out on the water and fall asleep.”

“I read,”

Connor said.

“You can do that from the comfort of the house.”

Connor stared at Trevor with a blank expression, making the man sigh. “You have to get at least another four hours of sleep.”

“How long will that bread take, Laurence?”

“Probably about two or three hours?”

“I’ll sleep until the bread is done,”

Connor bargained. Laurence’s arms were still wrapped around his midsection with his head buried against Connor’s chest. “Can you let me go so I can do that?”

Connor requested.

Laurence gave Connor a final squeeze before pulling back. “Do you prefer vegetable or mushroom soup?”

“Mushroom.”

“Oh, we’re out of mushrooms.”

“Veg is fine, then.”

“No. Dad can get some?”

Laurence glanced at Trevor. “It’s to cheer Connor up, Dad. Please?”

Trevor sighed.

“Do you expect him to go searching the forest?”

Connor questioned. “Nowhere is open yet. Just throw together whatever is there and spare the dad-torture for the moment.”

“‘Dad-torture’?”

Laurence scoffed.

“I’m going to crash on the couch.”

Connor stifled a yawn as they entered the house. He toed off his sandy shoes inside the doorway and walked to the living room couch to lie on it. After messing with the cushions, he shoved them all off. He shut his eyes, letting out a long sigh. As soon as he’d eaten, he’d go out on the paddleboard to spend time with Adonis. He’d bring his phone, read the details of what was going on with the case, and figure out a plan of action.

A heavy weight pressed down on Connor. He peeked through one eye to watch Trevor arrange duvet covers over his body. “Here,”

Trevor said, offering him a pillow.

Connor coughed out thanks.

A few minutes later, Trevor’s footsteps approached again, and he lifted the covers to place a hot water bottle onto Connor’s stomach. Connor couldn’t resist the snicker that climbed out of his throat. “You’re softer than a teddy bear.”

Trevor snorted in amusement. He patted Connor’s hair lightly. “I’m not the one who fell for Laurence’s crocodile tears.”

Connor jolted. “What?”

He flicked his eyes open, tilting back his head to see Trevor’s expression. “He wasn’t faking that.”

Trevor grinned. “I’ve seen it before. The fidgeting, tugging at the sleeve? He pinches his wrist to make his eyes water.”

Connor felt more betrayed than when he’d learned about Austin and Peter in bed together.

Trevor laughed at his expression. “You’ll get used to being played. Trust me.”

Connor steamed when Trevor left him. He wasn’t angry—but—he’d fallen for it. Completely. And Laurence had gotten exactly what he’d wanted out of Connor. Connor heard Laurence and Trevor talking in the kitchen and the sounds of cooking.

“Ugh,”

Connor grunted in annoyance. He was annoyed because he couldn’t be angry at getting played. Because what Laurence had wanted was to give him a hug and make him a delicious meal. Though it would have been better if Trevor hadn’t witnessed Connor falling for Laurence’s tricks without batting an eye.

*

Connor dozed until the food was ready and then joined everyone in the kitchen for breakfast. He snagged one of the throw blankets from the living room couch and wrapped it around his shoulders. The soup, surprisingly, was bland, as well as the bread. Connor, obviously, would die before he said that to Laurence.

“It’s delicious,”

Edith said, casting Laurence a warm smile.

Connor scanned the table to see everyone devouring the homemade bread and dipping it into the soup. He sipped at his and munched slowly on the bread.

Trevor cast Connor a curious look as he stood up with an empty bowl to get seconds. That curious look turned pointed as Trevor set his now full bowl of soup back on the table.

“What?”

Connor asked.

“Are you alright?”

Trevor asked. He walked to the counter and dug a hand-held thermometer out of the medicine cabinet.

Connor eyed the device. “Don’t be at me, Trevor. I’m going out even if you pretend I’m sick.”

“Your cheeks are very red,”

Nick remarked.

Connor cut his gaze toward him, but Nick’s attention had already moved back to his food. Connor narrowed his eyes at him. Of course, the only time Nick paid attention to his health was when it was to his disadvantage.

“You can only blame yourself if you’re sick after sleeping out in the cold.”

Trevor pressed the thermometer against Connor’s forehead. It beeped before he could smack it away.

“It’s up.”

“I naturally have a high—”

Trevor snorted before Connor even got to finish the sentence. Connor glared. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Maybe it doesn’t taste good?”

Laurence pouted. “You don’t like it?”

“Yes, Connor.”

Trevor rested his hands on Laurence’s shoulders. “Are you sick, or did Laurence do a bad job cooking the food?”

Connor scowled at Trevor and his stupid, smug expression. He knew Connor wasn’t going to insult Laurence’s food.

“I think the ocean could do with a break today. It’ll still be there once you’re better,”

Trevor said. He returned to his seat.

“I’m still going out.”

“Not while you’re sick, you’re not,”

Trevor said. This wasn’t the asking tone that Trevor had used before when he tried to convince Connor not to go out alone. This was a voice of authority. And technically, yes, Trevor didn’t have any authority over Connor. But technicalities aside, he really did.

“I’ll bring Laurence with me,”

Connor compromised.

Laurence perked up. Trevor’s smug look vanished. “No—that’s not—”

“Yes!”

Laurence hopped up from his chair in delight. “I’ll make sandwiches for us.”

“Laurence, Connor doesn’t feel well,”

Trevor cautioned, but he was obviously less confident now that he was trying to reason with his youngest. Connor sat back, unable to help the smug feeling that filled him. If Trevor wanted to use Laurence against him, then Connor could do the same.

“If Laurence decides he doesn’t want to come, I’ll stay in for the day,”

Connor said with a wicked grin, knowing very well that Laurence would decide no such thing. He watched Trevor grovel for Laurence to try to stop him.

Connor finished his soup and bread and stood. Trevor stood next to Laurence at the counter saying how harmful it could be to Connor if they went out. Laurence’s chipper reply was, “I’ll do the rowing!”

“Almost done there?”

Connor asked.

“Just wrapping them up.”

“I’ll be ready after I change. Make sure to grab a sketchbook to bring with you. Only a cheap one, though, in case it gets wet.”

“Will do.”

Trevor pleaded with Laurence all the way to the dock. Connor lifted the paddleboard to the water, and they strapped on the cooler. As Connor was clipping in his snorkelling gear, Nick approached him. Connor straightened up, ready for whatever threats Nick would issue to ensure Laurence stayed safe.

“Something to say?”

Connor asked blandly. His voice came out rough and scratched irritatingly against his throat.

Trevor and Laurence were a few feet away, out of earshot.

“Are you not worried at all about your case?”

Nick asked him, his pale blue eyes steady on Connor. There was less glaring than normal from him.

“No point worrying until I know what’s going on,”

Connor replied flippantly.

Nick stared at him.

“Well, are you going to threaten me or do you need to work up to it first? If I don’t bring Laurence back safe and sound, you’ll…”

Connor prompted.

Nick held out his hand, and Connor automatically took what was in it. A pack of soothers. His mind struggled to make sense of it. “Are they poisoned?”

“Am I a chemist?”

Nick drawled, like talking to Connor was the most boring thing on the planet. “No, they’re not poisoned.”

“Why are you giving me this?”

“Dad told me you’re gay,”

Nick said.

Connor wasn’t stung by Trevor sharing—it was sure to be in Alice and Harry’s next article, anyway. Connor didn’t care if Nick lived in fear that Laurence could be Connor’s next target, but Trevor had no doubt seen this as the opportunity for Connor and Nick to finally get along.

“And you believe him?”

Connor asked mockingly.

“You used to date Sam, didn’t you? A classmate told me. And there’s the forum Laurence showed me that your friends put together. Those pictures with Austin obviously show you two together,”

Nick said.

That there were pictures of Connor and Austin together out in the world didn’t feel good.

“So yeah, I believe you’re not a gay basher. I still think you’re an asshole.”

“I’m not ever going to like you, either.”

“I don’t care.”

“Ready?”

Laurence asked, coming to Connor’s side.

Connor looked away from Nick. He wondered was this the end of the cutting glares? “Let’s go before Trevor comes chasing after us on the surfboard.”