Page 33 of Free Fall #1
“Seat taken?” The deep, resonant voice is followed by the last empty chair being scraped back and Lowell sinking down into it.
His eyes are brighter than usual, and he’s not as scruffy-looking as he has been the last few months.
He looks shiny, well-scrubbed, and almost like he’s something close to happy.
“Hi,” Sejin greets him. “Join us.”
“Yeah, join us,” I say.
Rye lifts his boba in a greeting. “Lowell, long time, no see. How’s it going?”
Lowell’s brows do a strange little dance—surprise, maybe? I can’t tell. “Going well.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Speaking of your dick of an ex,” I interrupt the boring pleasantries and turn back to Rye.
“I don’t think we were, actually.”
“We were before Lowell sat down,” I remind him. “Anyway, do you think you’d want to housesit for Peggy Jo and her cats? It might make Andrew go easier on you for visits with Jeanie if you had a real place to live.”
“Where’s Peggy Jo going?” Lowell asks.
“To Georgia. She’s visiting her daughter, Bella. She’s having a baby.”
“Sorry, I can’t,” Rye says, chewing on a tapioca bubble. “I’m allergic to cats.”
“You could take allergy meds,” Sejin suggests.
“That’s okay for a few hours from time to time, but I can’t take them every day. Plus, with my new YOSAR volunteer position, I’m required to stay closer to the park. Peggy Jo’s place is too far out.”
That’s not the answer I was hoping for. I sip my coffee and try to think of counter-arguments, but there are none to be made.
Lowell stretches his arms up high, shifting in his seat, and he makes a soft, pleased sound that gets my attention.
He’s looking less “archangel” fierce today and more like a confident king of a man, soaking in the sun from the window.
I haven’t seen him like this since before his divorce, maybe not even then.
“You’re relaxed,” I observe, wishing I had another cinnamon roll. They were good. “Finally get laid?”
Lowell’s lips tug up at the corner. “Maybe I just got a good night’s sleep. How about you?”
“Everyone at this table knows I’m getting laid.” I gesture at Sejin meaningfully and take his hands. “And he is too.”
Sejin’s cheeks are flushed when he pulls his hands away, but we stare at each other and the heat flies between us.
Rye starts making gagging noises, while Lowell chuckles under his breath.
I’d like to get out of here, but we still haven’t eaten anything substantial.
I’m starting to wonder if we really need to…
I have chips and salsa back in the van if we need sustenance later.
Getting Sejin naked and underneath me feels way more important than good nutrition.
Lowell mutters, “It’s always hard to think about anything else when it’s new, isn’t it?”
I pause, realizing that he’s right. I’ve barely thought about Heart Route since I picked Sejin up on the bike last night.
I watch as Sejin catches his hair back in another hair tie he’s fished from his pocket, and my heart catches in my chest. I’m gonna grab that hair, hold it tight, and do unspeakable things to Sejin’s mouth and dick and ass.
My pulse flutters as our eyes meet again, and he smiles softly.
His shy little dimple is too much for me.
Sejin’s stomach gurgles loud enough to be heard over the clank and clang of silverware and murmurs of the crowd.
“When are you going to get Pete to make that turkey with bacon-and-bacon sandwich?” I don’t want him keeling over on me mid-sexcapade.
I need him to have some stamina so I can do all the things I want to do to him today.
I have to try to get him out of my system enough to focus on Heart Route tomorrow.
“Are you two hungry?” Sejin asks Lowell and Rye.
They both shake their heads. “I had a big breakfast,” Rye says.
“Me too,” Lowell agrees.
Now it’s my stomach’s turn to protest, and it growls loudly. “Wait here,” Sejin says to me, and darts into the back of the café again, ignoring his boss’s loud gripe that he shouldn’t be there if he’s not working.
“You’re smitten as a kitten,” Rye teases as soon as Sejin disappears behind the swinging door. He shakes his boba at me, rattling the ice and tapioca beads.
I shrug. “If you kissed him at sunrise on top of Pothole Dome, you’d be smitten too.”
“Ooh, is that romance I hear you describing?”
I grimace. “Yeah. I think so. Gross, huh?”
Rye laughs.
“It sounds like a good morning,” Lowell counters, his gaze going distant and sad again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve watched the sun come up with someone special.”
“You enjoy sunrises?” Rye asks.
“Sure.” Lowell’s shrug downplays it. “I also like sunsets, and dancing, and kissing.”
“Noted,” Rye says with a firm nod. Why he’d be making note of that, I don’t know, but then Sejin’s sweeping across the room again, his ponytail streaming behind him.
“Here,” he says, shaking a take-out bag he’s brought from the back room. “Pete’s in a mood, so I didn’t bother asking him for anything special. I got turkey sandwiches from Gage.”
We sit again, both of us stuffing the sandwiches in our mouths like we’re in a competition and the winner gets to top. Or bottom. Depending on whatever the winner wants to do. I’m down for either.
Lowell brings up a new route on the Dawn Wall a friend is trying to send. Rye asks pertinent questions, and I tune them out. The Dawn Wall is an impressive feat, but trying to veer off Tommy Caldwell’s route is foolish.
Instead, I watch Sejin eat. His throat bobs as he swallows, his long, pretty fingers grip the sandwich lightly, and his pink tongue darts out to lick mustard from the corner of his shiny, wet lips. I catch his gaze, and he’s peering at me too.
I go hot all over, and my heart flutters as he pops the last bite into his mouth.
“Come on,” I say, shoving the remains of my sandwich at Rye, certain that he’ll either eat it or throw it away for me. I reach my hand out for Sejin to take. “Let’s get out of here.”
Sejin’s fingers are soft and a little cold, but the look in his eye as we rise from the table is eager and hot.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Rye calls, shaking his nearly-finished boba our way. “Don’t forget: condoms, lube, consent, and safe words.”
A woman near the table coughs and glares at Rye before pointedly nodding toward her teenage son, who is quite obviously listening. Good! Let him hear about condoms, lube, consent, and safe words. If he’s lucky, he’ll need them sooner than later.
Sejin’s cheeks darken with a blush, but I just pull him out of Papa Bear and back to the waiting bike. Clambering on, both of us are overeager and I, for one, am already hard and aching.
Based on the way Sejin thrusts his crotch into my backside when he sits down, I’m not the only one.
As we tear out of the parking lot, and I point the motorcycle toward the campground, I think about how Lowell is right. My mind is full of sex and Sejin, and right now that’s all that matters. That’s all I even want to matter.
Heart Route can wait.