Page 34

TWENTY-FIVE

JAXON

Driving back into the city limits of Tourneville has an unexpected weight settling around my shoulders.

We were so free out in the forests of Canada, so happy with the remoteness.

Wesley wasn’t a world-famous superstar, and we weren’t afraid to be seen in public for fear he would be swarmed by his fans.

We were just Wes and Jaxon, old friends who happened to find each other when we least expected it.

I grip his hand tight as he maneuvers down the streets of my hometown.

The thought of him making an entire weekend for me still has me in disbelief.

No one has ever been so considerate before.

Knowing he tailored it for me makes me feel more loved than I can put into words.

I don’t want to go home right now. Being with him makes me feel light, and I don’t want to give that up.

Wes brings my hand to his mouth and kisses the back, making me melt. “Is it strange that I don’t want this weekend to end?”

I shake my head with a grin. “No. I was just thinking the same thing. ”

“So you’ll stay one more night with me? We can crash at my place so I don’t feel like I’m defiling Mr. Collins’s son under his roof.”

A hearty laugh bursts from my mouth. “You would not defile me. I think it would be the other way around.”

He seems to think about it, then agrees. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re a bad influence on me.”

He turns down a road that leads to the secluded house that people around town have said is haunted, but it was simply isolated. As kids, we used to ride by on our bicycles and see who could get the closest, but none of us dared venture too far down the driveway.

I chuckle at the memory. “This place isn’t far from my childhood home, but I’ve never actually been closer than the middle of the driveway.”

“It’s nice inside. When Zed rented it for me, I was apprehensive about moving in, but no ghosts have popped out at me yet. But if they do, I’ll keep you safe.”

I roll my eyes playfully as he parks, and we get out of the car.

Since the last time I’ve paid this house any attention, it’s gotten a facelift.

The previous old blue shutters have been exchanged for black, no longer clashing with the blue paint.

The house also got a fresh coat, appearing beautiful and vibrant.

The large wood door with the heavy knocker looks welcoming now, not ominous like it did when I was a kid.

We step inside, and I gasp. “It’s beautiful,” I say, stepping farther into the foyer. There is a wide staircase across from me that breaks off in two separate directions when it gets to a middle landing.

To my left is a dining room I’m sure Wesley doesn’t use, a table with place settings for eight. On the right is a family room with a large flatscreen television, comfortable- looking leather furniture, and the most beautifully crafted grandfather clock I’ve ever seen.

Wes takes my hand, and we head upstairs. He shows me to the primary bedroom that he’s claimed and then a room where he put all the musical equipment his manager brought for him.

“It doubles as a workout room.” He points to the corner where his mat and some free weights are.

Surprisingly, he has a stereo system like the one we grew up with. There are tapes, CDs, and records in boxes and cases on the floor beside it.

I point to it and walk over, looking at it in wonder. “Where did you find this?”

“I got it about ten years ago from a yard sale. It was in good condition. It came with most of the tapes and records you see. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”

“They sure don’t.” Sound bars are set up around the room, connected to his radio and his amp. I’m sure the acoustics in here are fucking phenomenal, the perfect place for him to make music.

All around the room are his guitars and other instruments. I gasp when I see the old Fender I gave him, propped up on its own stand.

Tears fill my eyes as I walk over to it. “Wes. You kept it. I thought…I don’t know, I thought you’d have gotten rid of it.”

He wraps his arm around my waist. “Nah, I wouldn’t have done that. It was the first gift I remember getting. Besides the snow globe you gave me that saved my life.”

Dad told me that in order for Wes to get Perry off him, he clocked him in the head with a heavy snow globe. I’d never been so happy about choosing a gift as I was then.

I kiss him gently. “Love you. ”

“Right back at you, baby,” he says, giving me one more kiss before pulling me out of the room.

The other two rooms are guest rooms, made up in gaudy, pretentious furnishings that has Wesley rolling his eyes when he shows them to me.

“I did not decorate them,” he insists.

“Sure you didn’t,” I joke, nudging him with my elbow. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

A growl bubbles up his throat, and I laugh as I take off running before he can grab me.

We have more space than we did in the yurt, but it still doesn’t take Wesley long to clutch me around the waist when I get down to the living room and toss me on the couch.

I laugh until he blankets my body with his and kisses me breathless.

“You don’t play fair,” I pant when he finally releases my lips.

Tilting his head to the side, he asks, “Why should I?”

We rest on the couch and make out like teenagers until my lips feel swollen and my dick is hard as iron.

But Wesley shakes his head. “None of that right now. Come on. Let me cook you dinner, and we can hang out.” I frown but allow him to pull me up so we can head to the kitchen.

It’s pretty nice, all-new appliances, a six-range stove, and one of those fancy touch screen refrigerators.

He pulls out some ingredients and gets started on dinner while we chat. Mostly he asks me about my life while I was in high school and college. He seems interested in hearing about my college days, since I tell him I had a party phase and almost failed out my freshman year.

Chuckling as he cuts tomatoes for a salad, he asks, “You seriously vomited in class?”

I groan, putting my head in my hand. “Don’t remind me. I didn’t live that down for at least another year until someone one-upped me by falling asleep and pissing their pants while hungover.”

He hums with a small grin on his face. “I can’t imagine you being hungover. Or drunk for that matter.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t my finest hour, that’s for sure.” Then I remember his worst moments, passing out in his vomit on the stage in front of thousands of people. “Shit, I’m sorry. It was only?—”

He shakes his head and flicks a piece of tomato at me. “It’s cool.” When the vegetable hits me in the forehead, he giggles. “I’m sorry. I have better aim than I thought.”

I scoop up the piece of tomato and throw it back at him, but he ducks, making me chuckle. I sober quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought up being drunk. Not after what you’ve been through. I know you said it’s cool, but I don’t like it.”

“Thank you. Being drunk and hungover were dark days for me, but I’m okay hearing about your experiences.

You telling me you upchucked over your classmates doesn’t make me want to go out and get a bottle.

” He shudders like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever heard.

“In fact, it has the opposite effect.” I glare at him, making him clutch his side as he cracks up.

“Asshole,” I whispers, though a slight smile appears on my lips.

Wes finishes dinner a few minutes later, and we sit at his kitchen island and eat. I ask about his high school days, and he tells me how he, Vic, Mitch, and Kas were considered the eccentric kids, even though they were pretty social.

“We had other acquaintances, but we mostly stuck together. If goth was a crowd at my school, that’s what we would have been, though we didn’t do the typical goth things, I guess.

We did do stupid shit like draw on tattoos.

” He lifts his shirt, showing off his amazing body and beautiful ink.

“Guess we knew our future. Mitch is covered in them, and Kas has more than a few. Vic only had three or four before he died, but I’m sure if he survived, he would be a fucking canvas like us. ”

I reach out and trace the tattoo on his right side, a dove with a music note clutched in its beak. “You look good. If I had imagined what you would look like as an adult, my imagination would have failed to capture everything. You’re fucking magnetic, Wesley.”

“Only drawn to you.” He kisses me quickly, then stuffs a forkful of food into his mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I shove steak into my mouth, hiding a groan at how fucking delicious it is. “We had steak at our prom,” I say. “It was fucking terrible. They should have asked for this recipe. We would have wanted seconds and thirds.”

“Thanks. I didn’t go to prom.”

I look up at him quickly. “No? Why not?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t really want to. Kas and Mitch went with their girlfriends, but I wasn’t really into it.

There would be people around that would bump me, and I wasn’t into losing my shit with bodies so close.

And if I had a date, she would be expected to have her hands on me when we danced.

I knew even then I didn’t like people touching me without my permission.

So I didn’t want to go. Vic hung out with me since he wasn’t a big fan of people in general.

We spent the night getting high off my dad’s old pills and writing songs we planned on adding to our first album when we got famous. It wasn’t a bad night.”

My heart hurts for him. Not that he missed prom but the choice was taken from him because someone violated him. If Perry hadn’t touched him in an indecent way, he could have done something as innocent and common as enjoying his senior prom.

We finish dinner without much more conversation, and I help him rinse the dishes and place them in the dishwasher.

“Let’s hop in the shower and laze around for the rest of the evening,” he says, pulling at my hand and leading me to his large bathroom.

It’s gorgeous like the rest of his home, a huge garden tub next to the three-or-four person shower. The Jack and Jill sinks are a mess with all his stuff everywhere, but the whole thing is out of this world.

He strips me of my clothes and hurries out of his, and we climb under the shower spray. There, we kiss and touch each other, exchanging blow jobs until we shoot our loads over each other’s faces.

We clean up and climb out of the shower. Wesley gives me some of his clothes to wear, and he tries to pull me downstairs, but I stop him.

Gazing at me quizzically, he asks, “What are you doing?”

“Come on.” I lead him to his music room, where I sit him on the futon and head over to the large old-school stereo system he has set up.

I smile as I push open the glass door and turn on the system.

I find one of the tapes, slide it into the deck, and press play.

The surround sound thrums around the room, “Diamonds and Pearls” by Prince playing.

“What are you doing?” he asks again, his smile wide.

“I’m bringing you prom.”

He peers at me dryly. “You realize we graduated way after Prince was hot, right?”

I snicker. “Doesn’t matter. Come here. ”

Wesley heaves himself off the futon and saunters over to me, his swagger making my mouth water. Even though he just drained me dry, I want more of him.

I pull him into my arms and hold on tight, kissing him on his neck softly. We move together slowly, his head resting on top of mine. Then I step on his foot, making him hiss.

“Sorry,” I say, my tone full of apology.

“You’re not a very good dancer, are you?” he asks as I step on his foot again.

I laugh in embarrassment. “I’m hopeless.”

“It’s okay,” he says, hiding a wince as I tread on the same foot. “I love how you dance.”

I scowl at him but stop glaring when I almost stomp on his toes.

He maneuvers one of my hands from around his back and cups it in his, resting it on his chest. “Thank you for this. I’ve never met someone so thoughtful,” he murmurs.

“I’ll do anything for you, Wes. You know that.”

A contented sigh leaves his lips. “I do. And I love you for it.”

For the rest of the night, we dance and laugh, holding each other while we recreate his prom in his little music room. When more upbeat songs come on, we have an easier time dancing, as he doesn’t have to be so close, and his toes get a break from my lumbering feet.

When we’re winded and sweaty, we take another shower, then climb into bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.