Page 33 of Sam & Justin (Gomillion High Reunion #4)

One Month After the Reunion

When Sam first suggested that I come visit, post-orgasm, I hadn’t been sure if he’d been serious or not.

It could have just been something that he said while coming down from the high of our long distance hookup.

It could have been something he said in the moment, because he was tired and because he’d been missing me.

Then he invited me again the next day, when we were texting on our lunch breaks.

He asked if I’d given any thought to his invitation, and I knew that he meant it.

I accepted immediately.

I spent the next week buzzing with excitement.

Rachel made more than a few comments about the way I was smiling as I moved around the office.

My sister picked up on my excitement, and after she dragged out where I was going, started teasing me relentlessly about my crush.

I might have been more bothered if it weren’t for the fact that neither of them were wrong.

I was acting like a giddy school boy, and I did have a crush.

The nerves kicked in the day before I left.

We’d texted every day since the reunion.

We’d had a few other late night video chats, and they didn’t all dissolve into getting off while the other watched.

We had even finished the first two seasons of my favorite show, taking it an episode or two a night.

I had no reason to be nervous, but I was.

What if the chemistry from the reunion wasn’t there without it?

What if it had all been spurred by nothing more than nostalgia and the copious amounts of alcohol served at the reunion?

What if it didn’t stand up when we were face-to-face without a schedule of activities to keep us busy?

I came close to canceling my trip. I started writing a message to Sam saying something came up, then he texted to say that he couldn’t wait to see me. I deleted the message.

I left work after lunch on Friday. Rachel told me to have a good time.

The first butterfly formed in my stomach when I hit the interstate just outside of Gomillion.

They multiplied every mile. By the time I saw the sign announcing that King’s Bay was only ten miles away, I could have opened a butterfly garden.

There were that many fluttering around in my gut.

I felt a little nauseous by the time I pulled up in front of the address Sam gave me.

It was a squat, one floor brick building. The front of the building was all windows with closed blinds keeping prying eyes from looking in. I parked my car on the street in front of the building and took a deep breath before I climbed out. The butterflies calmed down.

A little bell chimed when I opened the door.

The front room had a few small couches and a table of magazines.

It was completely empty. There was a reception desk with a computer, but there was no one waiting behind it.

There was a door just beyond the desk, propped open.

I could see Sam sitting in there from where I was standing.

He looked just as hot as the last time I’d seen him, even if the black button down looked a little too formal for the boy I’d known in high school and the man I’d reconnected with at the reunion. He glanced up, and the moment he saw me, he gave me a smile that lit up his little office area.

“You made it.”

Neither the phone nor my memory had done his voice justice.

It hadn’t captured the low gravelly tone.

It had diluted the bit of twang that flavored every syllable.

His voice brought the butterflies back to life and transformed them into a tornado of wings and nerves.

The effect he had on me should be studied by science, and I was so glad I hadn’t decided to skip the trip to King’s Bay.

“I told you I’d be here,” I answered as I drank in the sight of the man in front of me. I decided it was probably best to leave out the fact that I’d contemplated canceling.

He stood up, and my eyes followed the lean lines of his body.

He was hotter than I remembered too, so much hotter in person than he’d been on the small screen of my phone.

I’d been willing to take that as a substitute for the real thing, but there was no comparison.

I tracked his every move as he rounded the desk.

He grabbed a jacket from the back of his chair.

It wasn’t a blazer like I’d expect in an office setting.

Instead, it was a black leather number I recognized.

“Is that the same one you had in high school?”

I took the crooked grin as his answer. He’d somehow held onto the same jacket since we were kids.

I didn’t even keep the same jacket from one season to another.

The moment the colors started to fade or the hems started to fray, I put them in the donation bin.

Justin’s leather jacket had seen better days, but somehow, it made it look better.

Something told me it had to do with the attitude of the man wearing it.

Even with all the ways he’d changed, he could pull off weathered clothes.

I never could.

I waited for Sam to get all of his things together, and a few minutes later, we were leaving his office.

I followed him to his apartment, and the whole time I wondered if I should have kissed him in his office.

It would have been better than standing there, staring at him like I’d never seen an attractive man before.

I had acted like a complete idiot, and it wasn’t a feeling I was accustomed to.

I’d always prided myself on my intelligence, but it was not on display in that office.

But then, he could have kissed me too.

Not for the first time, I wondered if this was possibly a mistake.

Maybe what we’d shared at the reunion was supposed to be a flash in the pan.

Maybe we were meant to let out those high school feelings, get answers to questions I’d never even asked back then.

Except I knew that wasn’t true. Fate came with choices, and I’d chosen him. I chose him again by coming here.

Besides, it was too late to turn back now.

If this weekend was a disaster, then I could just go back to Gomillion and block his number.

If I hadn’t gone, I’d live with the regret for the rest of my life.

I knew that. The knowledge helped lighten the weight of my anxiety.

It was just in time too, because Sam turned into the parking lot of a squat four story brick building.

It was nice, with little balconies jutting out from sliding doors.

I parked between Sam and a black sedan. The moment I turned off the car, Sam was opening the back door and grabbing my duffel bag.

“I can carry that,” I pointed out, grinning ear to ear at his consideration.

I couldn’t remember the last time someone had carried my bag for me.

It seemed like such a gentlemanly thing to do.

It fit the man I’d come to know since the reunion.

He didn’t say anything. He just started for the building.

He paused at the door and waited for me to catch up.

I followed him through a nondescript foyer and up the stairs to the third floor.

There were four doors, all painted the same shade of dark gray.

Three of the four doors had decorations on them: two wreaths and one strange wooden dinosaur holding a hot pink heart.

Three of the doors had doormats in front of them.

(The one in front of the dinosaur door was hot pink, an almost exact match to the heart.) We stopped in front of the one door without a mat or anything hanging from it.

Sam caught my look and shrugged. “Not really my style. The fuck do I need a doormat for?”

“To wipe your feet?”

“Anything sticking onto my shoes after three flights of stairs isn’t gonna be too bothered by a doormat.”

He had a point.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

I followed him inside. I didn’t have a chance to take a look around.

The moment the door shut behind us, I heard the sound of my bag hitting the ground, and his lips were on mine.

He kissed me so hard that I stumbled backward into the door.

His tongue invaded my mouth, and I opened to grant him better access.

It was one of those kisses that I could feel down to my toes.

I lost myself in the taste of his lips and the feeling of his lean body pressed against mine.

I could feel his cock growing harder against my thigh, and all doubts were gone.

Coming here was the right choice. When he pulled back from the kiss, I was panting.

“I’ve been thinking about that since I left Gomillion,” he drawled, his voice thick with lust. I couldn’t speak right away, so I had to get by with just a nod.

I was still leaning against the door as he started walking deeper into the apartment.

He tossed me that crooked smirk of his over his shoulder.

“You planning on staying at the door all weekend, or you wanna actually come in?”

I drew in a deep breath and followed after him.

His apartment was small, but it was nice.

The living room had built-in shelves, and I could see the leather couch where he watched my favorite show with me on the phone.

The shelves were lined with books. The boy I knew barely read, but the man he’d become had a collection.

I itched to look at the titles, but I’d have all weekend.

He pointed out the small kitchen with white cabinets and appliances and a few dirty dishes sitting on the counter.

Then he led me through the door on the other side of the living room, right into his bedroom.