Page 16

16

JAKE

N avigating LA freeways required total concentration. Vehicles whizzed by at ungodly speeds or slowed to a crawl in the fast line…just because. And the traffic could make a grown adult cry, which was pretty much the same as in Boston. The difference was that I didn’t know LA streets very well. Even with GPS, I took the wrong exit and ended up in Manhattan Beach.

I stopped near the pier to recalibrate directions and text Trinsky.

Sorry. I’m running late, but I think I’m close now.

He sent a thumbs-up emoji. No prob. I’ll leave a towel and trunks for you in the courtyard. Meet us at the beach.

Us? At the beach? What the fuck?

I’d thought we were supposed to spend the day naked, sucking each other off, not frolicking in the water. I hadn’t signed up for fun in the sun with Trinsky and some random friends of his. This was supposed to be a private thing, party of two. It was so like him to change the rules at the last second without telling me. Ugh . He was such an asshole. What was he doing?

What was I doing?

Yesterday had been eye-opening and cathartic. And yes, fun. I had no regrets. I’d wanted everything we’d done and maybe more. I liked kissing him, touching him, and in a twist, I loved having my prostate massaged. I’d even managed to wrap my head around the fact that those had been Trinsky’s hands all over me…Trinsky’s fingers in my ass. And after a spine-tingling orgasm, I’d liked talking to him.

But that was yesterday. If he’d changed his mind, I wished he’d said so before I’d braved the 405 freeway.

I retyped his address in the rental’s nav system just as an incoming call came in. I answered, slowly guiding the car south on Manhattan Avenue.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hi, there. How’s California?”

“Sunny and beautiful,” I reported, squinting against the glare on my windshield.

“And how was the interview?”

“It went pretty well. McD isn’t arriving till Thursday now, so I have a couple of days till the meeting. I suppose I’m a little nervous. I like LA fine, but I really don’t want to move here.” Okay, I added that last part quickly, hoping to divert any conversation that might include Trinsky. I wasn’t ready to go there.

“I selfishly don’t want you to move to the West Coast either, but I’m sure that’s a moot point. Boston isn’t going to let you get away,” he assured me. “How was Trinsky?”

Well, it was a nice try.

“Fine.”

My father chuckled lightly. “Fine? You can do better than that.”

“There was no bloodshed and no drama. He even offered me a ride to my hotel afterward.”

“He’s a good guy,” Dad said.

I huffed because that was what the script called for, but it felt forced. “ Hmm . He’s pretty involved with children’s charity work. Did you know that?”

“I did. See? I told you he wasn’t a bad egg.”

News flash: my father had always liked Trinsky. I used to find that annoying, but now, I wondered if Dad had seen something in him all along that I hadn’t.

“Yeah, well…”

Make a right onto 35th Street and make a left onto Hermosa Avenue.

“Are you with someone?” he asked.

“No, I’m—” I’m on my way to meet my nemesis for a booty call. Nope. I couldn’t say that. I had to lie, and that was a new one. I’d never lied to my dad. “I’m in a rental car. The nav voice is loud. Sorry.”

Your destination is on your left. You have arrived.

“Very loud,” Dad commented with a laugh. “I’m at the office. I hope you’re somewhere more fun.”

I parked, glancing out the driver’s window at the side view of Trinsky’s palatial boardwalk villa. Bicyclists, runners, and rollerbladers vied for space on the wide pathway parallel to the sparkling blue ocean in the distance. Kids squealed while seagulls eyed discarded lunches. It was chaos. Fun chaos.

I turned off the engine just as Trinsky opened his gate and held it for a short, heavyset kid with thick glasses. His brother? Maybe. I couldn’t tell from here. Trinsky guided the younger man by his elbow and steered him toward the sand. And get this…he let go to speak in sign language.

“Uh…yeah. The beach.”

“You win. I’ll let you go. If I haven’t told you lately, I’m proud of you and I love you.”

My lips curled at the familiar endearment. Dad never missed an opportunity to let me know he was rooting for me.

“Love you too. I’ll talk to you later this week. Tell everyone I said hi.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I pushed End and jumped out of the car. “Hey, Trinsky!”

Trinsky swiveled to me and waved. I locked the car and jogged to meet him on the sidewalk.

“Of course you got lost,” he snarked in greeting. “Yo, Milligan, meet Eddie. Eddie, this is Jake Milligan. He plays for Boston, but we’re not gonna hold that against him today.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie quipped, pushing up his glasses and thrusting his hand at me. “I know you. I watch hockey…because of Mr. Cool.”

I shook Eddie’s hand, chuckling when he hooked a thumb at his brother. “Mr. Cool?”

“That’s me. Don’t forget it,” Trinsky teased, tugging the bill of Eddie’s ball cap playfully.

Eddie scowled and began speaking with his hands. I didn’t mind. It gave me a chance to study the brothers.

Huh . Trinsky had never mentioned that his brother had Down syndrome. His charity wasn’t specific to kids with Down syndrome. Or maybe I hadn’t read the info blurb carefully.

Eddie was a solid foot shorter than Trinsky with straight brown hair, apple-round cheeks, and a big, gracious smile that made his blues sparkle mischievously. Okay, so maybe they didn’t look alike, but I’d bet they had a mischievous streak in common. I was intrigued on so many levels. Less than two minutes in their presence, I could tell the brothers were close. Trinsky kept a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, leaning into him protectively.

Not that Eddie seemed timid. At all. He rolled his eyes as he spoke with his hands. I didn’t understand the language, but I was pretty sure he was teasing Trinsky. Yeah, I liked this kid.

“S-sorry. I didn’t mean to be r-rude.” Eddie grinned and continued in a fast-paced yet stilted manner of speech. Some words were crystal clear, others difficult to make out. “I told Mase that I’ve seen y-you on TV. And at two games when your team p-played Denver. You’re good. Not as good as Mason, but he’s my brother and I have to s-say that.”

I snickered at Trinsky’s faux growl. “Understood. Are you on your way to the beach?”

“Gee, Captain Obvious, how’d you know?” Trinsky teased, pouring on the sarcasm.

“Bite me.”

He smiled, a saucy, lopsided smile meant just for me. “Meet us out there. I left you a suit in the courtyard in case you didn’t bring one. It’s private…no one will see your kibble and bits.”

Eddie giggled. “I’m sorry about Mason. He has a naughty vo-vo-vocabulary.”

“I remember. Hey, I didn’t mean to crash your party. Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked, stepping off the curb to make room for a little kid on a scooter.

“The beach is for everyone, Milligan. Join the party. But put the suit on and be prepared to do some competitive body surfing. Fair warning: Eddie always wins. He owns this beach.”

“That is a fact,” Eddie agreed solemnly, fussing with his glasses.

“So you’re gonna lose, and we got rules about that. What do we say, Eddie?”

“No crying in surfing.” Eddie held up a single digit, adding, “Or body surfing.”

“I can do that. And I’m pretty sure I’ll come in second place.”

Eddie gasped in delight and set a hand over his mouth.

“Oh, it’s on, Jakey. It’s on.” Trinsky narrowed his eyes theatrically and motioned for Eddie to follow him.

I hadn’t brought a suit as I’d assumed we’d spend the afternoon naked in bed, but this was cool. It might have been better if Trinsky’s navy striped trunks fit me, though. I tightened the drawstring as much as possible and trudged to the beach where Trinsky and Eddie were frolicking in the waves.

“He found us,” Trinsky called, emerging from the ocean like Triton or some kind of sea god.

“Are you ready to play?” Eddie held up his hand and squinted. He left his glasses on a striped towel nearby, and I got the feeling he really needed those to see properly.

“Hang on. We should give Jake a chance to warm up. He hasn’t been in the water yet.”

Eddie nodded, plucking at his neon rash guard. “And he needs to look out for jellyfish. We see them sometimes.”

“True. Okay, in competition, we take turns. Since there are three of us, we go two at a time and the man out judges,” Trinsky explained. “Yo, Ed. Do you want to rest or do you want to get more practice in with Jake and me?”

Eddie dried his face with the towel and put his glasses on. “You go. Tell me w-when you are ready.”

I followed Trinsky to the water’s edge and dipped my toes in, wincing as a cold wave nipped at my ankles. “Shit, it’s cold.”

“Only at first. Jump in. It’s not so bad.”

“I don’t trust you. This is retribution for the water temp at the swimming hole, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” He chuckled, wading in deeper and diving under an incoming swell. “Get out here, Milligan. You can’t catch waves from the shore!”

I braced myself as I dove in, swimming past the breaker to join Trinsky. “It’s still cold, and your trunks are falling off me. There’s a good chance I’m going to lose them before I reach the sand.”

Trinsky grinned like a madman. “Again…all part of my devious plan. Hey, listen. Eddie’s a good swimmer, but he’s slow as fuck and yet, somehow he wins. You get the math, right?”

“I do.”

He held a hand up for a fist bump. “Cool. He’ll rely on us to find a wave for him. Try to time it so he doesn’t eat it in the wash.”

“No pressure, huh?”

“Life is full of pressure. But I trust you, and just know that I will fuck you up if my brother drowns on your watch.”

I splashed him. “Fuck you. I would never let him drown.”

Trinsky splashed me back and winked. “I know. C’mon, Milligan, see if you can beat me.”

“Easy.”

Actually, it wasn’t so easy at all. This was Trinsky’s home turf. He knew the ocean as well as he knew the ice, and yeah, that chafed. He won three races in a row, and Eddie deemed his brother the winner of two out of three body surfing contests. I was happy to get that one win ’cause as Trinsky warned, Eddie dominated.

No, he wasn’t the best swimmer, but he was by far the most energetic one.

Eddie traded his regular glasses for goggles, did a few squats, and swung his arms in preparation, then lunged on the wet sand and waited for the judge (Trinsky or me) to say go. He didn’t rely on muscle memory. He swam with purpose as if he were coaching himself through each stroke, remembering to breathe in, breathe out, kick one leg, kick the other.

It took Eddie much longer to get past the breakers, and though he had to work extra hard to tread water, he didn’t attempt to surf a wave without a signal from one of us. And each time he washed ashore, his smile widened with pride. I cheered him on as if there were a medal on the line, arms in the air, chanting wildly.

Trinsky was twice as vocal. No surprise there. I wasn’t surprised that he was a good coach, either. I’d seen him in action at Elmwood Juniors’ camp, egging teens on with over-the-top praise and encouragement. Sure, he bugged the hell out of me on the ice, but I’d never faulted his dedication to the program and his willingness to volunteer precious time off in the summer. He was fun and enthusiastic but also incredibly patient with kids. Something told me Eddie had a lot to do with that.

“Pretty good,” Eddie pronounced, trading his goggles for glasses, his towel slung around his shoulders. “I was the winner. We can agree on that, but you were both very good too.”

Trinsky ruffled his brother’s wet hair. “You rocked. Hey, I was better than Jake, wasn’t I?”

“Be nice.” Eddie scowled and turned to me. “D-don’t listen to Mr. Cool. He teases all the time.”

“Who me?”

Eddie nodded profusely. “Yes, you.”

Trinsky shrugged. “Guilty. Let’s go to the house and make sandwiches before Mom comes to pick you up. Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” Eddie signed something and seemed to get frustrated.

“Use your words, Ed. It’s okay.”

Eddie squinted and took an exaggerated deep breath. “I’ll make turkey and cheese. Do you like turkey and ch-cheese, Jake?”

“Love it.”

Eddie grinned. “Good. It’s my specialty. Right, Mr. Cool?”

“Oh, yeah. This guy is a super chef,” Trinsky agreed, slipping his sunglasses on.

Eddie tied the ends of the towel around his neck like a cape and pointed in the direction of the house. “Last one there is a rotten egg.”

I watched him weave through the beach chairs and umbrellas, securing my ball cap as I glanced at Trinsky. “He’s pretty great.”

Trinsky nodded. “Yeah. He wasn’t supposed to be here all day, but my mom had to go into the office this morning and asked if Ed could come over. He hates last-minute changes, but he minds it less if he can be with me. I miss spending time with him during the season, so I rarely say no. My house is his house.”

“That’s nice.”

“I’m nice,” he countered, trudging through the sand.

“I had no idea. I also didn’t know you had a brother who…”

“Was special needs,” Trinsky finished.

I lowered my eyes, staring at the sand as I walked. “No, I guess I didn’t know that. It’s never come up.”

“No, it wouldn’t have,” he replied cryptically. “My private life is private. Either way…thanks for being cool to him. Eddie likes you. But don’t get excited…the poor kid has terrible taste in humans.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Trinsky bumped my shoulder. “I’m kidding. The opposite is true. He’s the best at gauging people. If he doesn’t like someone, there’s usually a reason. And vice versa.”

“You’re good with him,” I commented.

“Eddie is my ride or die. I would do anything for that kid, who you’re soon to find out, is an expert sandwich maker. You’re welcome for the turkey-cheese hookup in advance.”

I smiled at his retreating back, more intrigued by the multifaceted Mason Trinsky than ever.

The turkey-cheese hookup lived up to the hype. Eddie was chatty during sandwich assembly. He told me about his friends, Sarah and Anthony, and a bowling trip coming up at camp. His speech was halting and sometimes it wasn’t easy to understand him, which was usually Trinsky’s cue to lay a hand gently over his brother’s as if to say, “There’s no reason to hurry.”

I was in awe of their dynamic. Eddie’s sweet-tempered mannerisms were a stark contrast to the hockey bad-boy attitude Trinsky had cultivated. The muscular hunk painstakingly cutting his brother’s sandwich at a perfect ninety-degree angle was nothing like the jerk who’d blamed me for his Stanley Cup loss and inadvertently launched a silly PR campaign.

No, this wasn’t Trinsky. This was Mason. And you know, I liked this guy.

Abigail Trinsky was yet another revelation. Mason and Eddie’s mother was a tall, striking brunet with a polite smile and sad eyes who couldn’t quite hide her surprise at my presence in her son’s home.

“Aren’t you…” She snapped her fingers. “I know you.”

“Jake Milligan. Pleased to meet you.” I motioned between Trinsky and me. “I’m…we’re—I play hockey too.”

“Oh, yes! Boston.” Another confused look. “I didn’t realize you two were friendly.”

“Nah, I’m being forced to be nice. The dude is my mortal enemy, Mom,” Trinsky grumbled sarcastically. “Do not tell anyone I took pity on him sitting in a hotel room on a sunny day in So Cal.”

She widened her eyes but made a zipped-lips motion. “I won’t say a word. Ready to go, Ed?”

Eddie inclined his chin. “Good-bye, Mister.”

“You can call me Jake,” I replied.

“No, you can be Mister, but I haven’t decided what your name will be. I’ll let you know.”

“Fair enough. See ya, Eddie.”

I held out my hand. Eddie ignored it and launched himself at me for an impromptu hug. I patted his back, sneaking a glance at Trinsky, who was staring at us with an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

Trinsky closed the door behind them a few minutes later and sat next to me at the kitchen island. He stole a chip from my almost empty plate and then another. I slid the plate over, knocking my knee against his in wordless communication.

“So I got a problem now.”

“What kind of problem?” I prodded.

He sighed dramatically. “I actually do like you.”

“That is a problem.”

“Right? I thought it was a weird form of lust, but I think it’s something more fundamental. Like…just you. I suppose you’re not the spoiled, rich kid who had every advantage handed to him on a silver platter.” Trinsky wrinkled his nose and flashed a disarming grin. “Okay, you’re still some of those things, but instead of being jealous and thinking you have no idea how damn fortunate you are, I’m beginning to think you get it.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, holding my smile hostage for a beat. “That’s al-most a compliment.”

“Fuck, I know. And the concerning thing is that this new perspective is making me soft.”

“How so?”

“Not sure. I just have this overwhelming desire to flatten you against the nearest wall and stick my tongue in your mouth.”

“Do it,” I dared.

Trinsky gave me a brief once-over. “You’re sitting. The logistics are wonky. How do I get you off the barstool and all the way to the wall without tripping? I’ll probably look like I’m trying too hard.”

“I’ll make it easier for you.” I stood, leaning one hand on the island.

“Okay, geez, now I’m nervous.”

I snickered as I grabbed his chin and kissed him.

The connection was sweet and tentative, and more subdued than the fiery, manic exchanges we’d perfected recently. Trinsky sucked my tongue as he pushed away from the island and shuffled me backward till I collided with the stone archway.

“Ouch.”

He gave a sheepish laugh and maneuvered us to a flat surface, fusing our mouths and molding his body to mine. I expected him to morph into a caveman, yanking off his T-shirt and humping my cock. But no…it was more soft, leisurely kisses, more tender caresses. I melted into him, draping my arms over his shoulders.

Trinsky sucked my bottom lip and set a hand on my chest. “I want to try something. If you hate it, tell me to stop and I will. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He licked my jaw, hands splayed under my tee, tweaking my nipples. I hummed, raising my arms at his grunted command. Trinsky bit my neck, then my shoulder, fingers ghosting my sides, and slipping to my belt.

“I wish you’d left the swim trunks on,” he mumbled, unbuckling and unthreading my belt.

Yeah, me too.

I tried to help, but Trinsky was two steps ahead of me. In a matter of seconds, my shorts and boxer briefs were at my feet, and my cock was bobbing between us.

“Touch me.”

“I will, but…let me do this.” Trinsky dropped to his knees and looked up at me, gripping my shaft like he meant business.

“What do you—oh. Oh, fuck.”

“This is me tasting cock for the first time.” He licked me from root to tip, sucking my crown experimentally.

I opened and closed my mouth. “Do you like it?”

“Don’t know. I’ll need another taste.” He repeated his efforts…a lick, a suck, and added a few pumps of his fist.

I raked my fingers through his hair, my breath coming in jagged rasps as I took in the incredible sight of Mason Trinsky on his knees for me, blowing my dick and my mind. I might not survive this.

Sure, I’d probably had better, more thorough BJs, but this was him. This was us, figuring each other out, grappling with desire we hadn’t quite come to terms with—no judgment, no expectation.

There was freedom in admitting we didn’t know what we were doing, but we just wanted to try.

“You’re good at this,” I praised reverently, tugging his hair. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Take more. That’s it. Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck.”

Trinsky swallowed half my length and gagged. He tried again, stroking me as he sucked. Saliva dripped onto my balls and that was hotter than I’d ever thought it could be. He was messy, but I really fucking loved it. My balls tightened and my spine tingled. Shit, I wasn’t going to last.

He twisted his tongue and slurped me to the root, releasing me with a pop. “You’re gonna come. I know you’re almost there, and I love that I can tell. I can take it if you want to fuck my mouth. Try it, Jakey. Try to fuck me.”

How could I refuse an invitation like that?

“Christ,” I growled, grabbing his head still, and thrust my hips, fucking his mouth in a frenzy.

Nope, I didn’t last long at all, and no, I didn’t have the decency to warn him. Trinsky knew, though. He took everything I gave him. Cum trickled from the corner of his mouth as he scrambled to his feet.

I licked his lips, unthinking, and lapped his tongue like a greedy cat.

Trinsky blinked as if coming out of a fog. He grinned, panting…and then ravaged me like an animal, clawing and biting and licking. “God, I want to fuck you. I promise I won’t, but please…show me your ass.”

I obeyed. Bracing one hand on the wall, I arched as if showing off my ass was something I did. Trinsky’s pleased growl rumbled through me, so who cared?

I glanced back just as he spit in his hand and wrapped it around his thick cock. “Does my ass turn you on?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He whimpered. There was no other word for the needy sounds he was making. Knowing I did that to him sent a thrill through my veins and made me feel powerful. And wanton. I opened my cheeks with both hands. “What about now?”

“Oh, my…shit, you’re beautiful. Look at that hole.” He stepped closer, slipped two fingers in my mouth. “Suck. Good boy. You like being good, don’t you, Jakey? You can be my good boy.”

I fell into a trance as he brushed the slick digits over my entrance. There was no way I could come again so soon. But when he pushed me flat into the wall, suckling on my neck as he lined his rigid pole at my crease, my dick twitched hopefully. Trinsky thrust between my cheeks half a dozen times—and came like a geyser, roaring through his release.

Neither of us moved. It was like yesterday, but…more. Much more.

More intense, more everything. He’d admitted that he liked me and yeah, I liked him too.

What was happening here?