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Page 10 of Summer Skin

A HUMMING BUZZrushed through the backyard. Trent Williams of Paranormal Romance effortlessly strolled across the crowded lawn, the masses parting for him like he was some sort of floppy-haired Jesus, rather than a dude wearing more leather than a newborn calf.

He paused to speak with Heidi at the foot of the makeshift stage, tugging at the right sleeve of his shirt as though he were itching to be someplace else. She nodded along to whatever he was saying and then switched on the mic.

“Happy freakin’ Halloween!” she greeted, and the party lit up in response, cheering and whooping. Someone in the back let out a pretty epic wolf whistle.

“Welcome to my backyard spooky-themed open mic, people! Tonight, we’re getting down with the island’s own Trent Williams. You all remember him? My dickhead cousin? Get over here, dude!”

The screams got even more intense as Trent trotted onto to the stage. Heidi pushed a guitar toward him, but he waved her away, adjusting the mic to his height. He rocked on his feet for a moment, waiting for the party to silence, then took a long, deep breath before wrapping his hand around the mic and singing a cappella into the night.

Chase shifted, his arms going across his chest, waiting for some sort of instrumental accompaniment to begin. But there was only Trent Williams rasping at the crowd, dramatic and over-emotional, almost laughably out of place in a yard full of people dressed as vampires and superheroes.

A low chuckle came from Aven. “Unbelievable,” he said out of the side of his mouth. Trent was so into it, so earnest, eyes closed and practically eating the microphone as he cupped it in his hands, and Chase had to dig an elbow into Aven’s side because, seriously, how does one become so full of oneself?

Probably by selling out stadiums and bathing in the sweat of screaming fans.

Chase took a look around, and yeah. The throng of people were standing silent and holy, like they were praying at the altar of a rock god. Even Andi looked about a minute away from throwing her panties onstage.

“But, like, who is he?” The Catwoman standing beside Chase asked her friends.

“That’s Trent Williams. He’s the singer for that one band with the song about gray people.”

“Gay people?”

“No, gray.”

“Like … they’ve gone gray because they’re old and stuff?”

“No, ‘cause they’re sad or whatever. Remember, he dated that one actor from the show about living on mars, and then dumped him for—”

“Shhhh!” Wonder Woman hushed them, giving Storm a stoney glare. “God, Jada, don’t talk over Trent! He’s trying to sing!”

“Geez. Sorry, boss of everyone,” Storm said, rolling her eyes. “Boss of gray everyone.”

Aven leaned in. “Matthews,” he said, his tone laced with a note of disbelief. “Is this guy … is he singing his own hit song? He can’t seriously be singing a radio song at an amateur open mic, can he?”

Chase cocked an ear trying to place the lyrics. Something about being haunted by a past relationship. The ghost of an ex-lover. Of course, he’d heard “Gray Everyone,” it was overplayed to an annoying degree, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the band’s other singles. Then the chorus picked up, and oh, god. Yeah. This was definitely Paranormal Romance.

“Holy shit, you’re right.”

They giggled, like schoolchildren, amped up on the amusement of a narcissistic rock star performing his own hit like they’d all paid for an overpriced ticket to one of Paranormal Romance’s sold-out shows.

“It’s just that he’s so into it,” Chase said between a fit of laughter. “At a backyard party.”

“Yeah … but so is the crowd.”

“You think maybe we’re the assholes?”

“Likely.” Aven smirked, slinging an arm around Chase’s neck. “You wanna get up there with me tonight, man?”

“I’ll play guitar, you sing?” Chase suggested.

“Okay. What?”

“What what?”

“I mean, what should we play? ‘I Put a Spell on You’ might fit the night. You know it?”

He did. Knew it well, actually.

Trent finished up and the crowd started to clap, then cheer, then roar. Chase turned away from Aven to witness Trent with his face tilted up to the sky, eyes closed as though he was soaking in applause straight from heaven. A snicker came from Aven, and Chase felt the corners of his own mouth lift. Aven cupped his hand around the shell of Chase’s ear and leaned in, whispering, “You and me together is a million times better than that.”

Chase’s foolish heart tripped over itself. The way Aven stood so close, the spicy scent of his deodorant, and the warmth of his body was all too much. Uninvited images of them tangled together in ways other than musically raced through his mind.

“Come on,” Aven told him, tugging on Chase’s sleeve as he led them through the crowd. “Let’s go.”

Once he was settled on stage with Heidi’s guitar resting in his lap, Chase looked to Aven, who was adjusting the mic, chuckling over something Heidi said. Then he turned his head and found Chase’s gaze, his smile ticking up a notch. Ready? he mouthed, and Chase’s nerves sparked to life with the thrill of playing in front of a crowd.

His fingers slid into place on the strings of the guitar, and he started to play, Aven finding his own voice when it came time. And, god, Chase loved watching him perform. Aven was the first break of sunlight, waves crashing to shore, the aurora borealis painted over a winter sky, and Chase couldn’t look away, not for a single beat.

Aven leaned into the night, inviting everyone in, and the crowd went loose and wild for him. And Chase … his attraction grew even thicker and more devout. Aven. Aven Sinclair. Whose body swayed sinuously as he wove a spell over the crowd. Aven, who was so breathtakingly beautiful performing in a half-assed costume on a plywood stage in the middle of someone’s backyard that Chase was practically vibrating watching him put on a show.

Then Aven’s body shifted and he looked back, his eyes catching on Chase, mesmerizing, and a fluttery idea caught in Chase’s head—he was enchanted. The magic was evident in the jacked-up beat of his heart. In the way his fingers so effortlessly found the strings of the guitar, weaving a story along with Aven’s voice. Performing with Aven was so much better than playing on his own. It was a thousand times more comforting than cocooning himself in headphones with a well-loved album. It was the best thing about this day, the best thing about all of his days lately. And all at once, a shiver whooshed up the length of his spine as he realized he really, truly, felt okay for the first time since he’d moved here. Better than okay, really.

Happy.

Like maybe he actually belonged.

***

Heidi was on stage ripping through “Thriller” and the crowd was late-night feral for it. Chase couldn’t help but be impressed. There was a lot of talent here tonight.

He and Aven sat side-by-side on the steps of a cedar-stained deck, watching the performances as demons, fairies, and princesses twirled by.

A soft buzz came from his back pocket and Chase pulled out his phone.

brOOKLYN:It’s almost eleven

He couldn’t tell if she was worried about him getting a ride home in time or just playing personal alarm clock. Or maybe even stepping in as Mom.

“Hey,” he said, with a tap on Aven’s shoulder. “I need to be back by 11:00, remember? That’s when my aunt hits the pillow for the night.”

Aven glanced at him sideways. “You wanna come over to my place instead?”

Oh.

The idea was intoxicating and dangerous in equal measures. Chase didn’t need a chance to get even closer to Aven. To learn intimate details of his nighttime routine. Like if he bothered to wash his face before bed or what toothpaste he preferred. Did he sleep in full pajamas, or boxers, or even in the nude? And would they be sharing the same bed? Because … because what if Chase got a boner during the night and brushed up against Aven in his sleep? Or what if Aven got hard and—

“Chase?”

“Yeah, okay,” he blurted out before his brain could catch up.

Aven grinned at his response, big, brighter than the moon.

And how could he ever say no to that?

CHASE:I’m staying at Aven’s, don’t worry about me

brOOKLYN:Okay, so this is Body Snatchers?

CHASE:What’s that even mean?

brOOKLYN:You becoming besties with Sinclair

CHASE:Aven’s cool

brOOKLYN:Sure thing, pod person

Fair. He hadn’t exactly been Aven’s number one fan when they first met.

CHASE:Night Brook

brOOKLYN: Night alien wearing my brother’s meatsuit

“Cool. We can do sleepover stuff.” There was a touch of daring in Aven’s tone. “You know what I mean?”

“Not really,” Chase replied, shrugging a shoulder. The only sleepovers he’d ever done were with Brook, and more often than not involved pretending to be small woodland creatures, which was a game Chase couldn’t imagine Aven lining up for.

“Truth or dare?” Aven suggested, lifting an eyebrow. “That could get pretty interesting.”

Oh, god. Aven was no doubt picturing truths about getting boners in class over girls they liked or doing pranks to Andi’s front lawn. If he only knew how Chase felt about him, things might get interesting in a much more complicated way, real fast.

“We can braid each other’s hair,” Aven went on. He reached out, running a hand softly through Chase’s hair, giving it a tug, and Chase’s entire body caught on fire. Lightning quick, all at once. And jesus, never mind getting a nighttime woody in Aven’s bedroom, he was gonna pop a boner right here in Heidi’s backyard.

Abruptly pulling away, he forced a smile. “Stop,” he said exaggerating his tone. “Or I’ll draw a dick on your face while you sleep.”

Oh, god. Why? Of all the things to say! But the classic sleepover prank had popped into his head and right out of his mouth.

Aven’s eyes flashed, and Chase couldn’t read his expression. Not at all. But the way he was staring caused a flutter of butterflies, and Aven genuinely needed to learn not to look at Chase that way because it was doing things to his body that were going to cause a telltale pink flush any second now.

“Or maybe,” Aven said, leaning in so close his lips were nearly brushing Chase’s ear, “you could—”

“So did I thrill you?”

Caught off-guard, Chase jumped a little, looking up to find Heidi smiling down at them.

“Always,” Aven said, shifting away from Chase and leaning back on his elbows.

Heidi plopped down on the steps next to him, giving Aven what could only be described as fuck me eyes, playing with the neckline of her t-shirt.

For a moment, a deep, aching sadness filled Chase’s chest. Over the way she did it so casually, so easily. When looking at Aven like that, flirting so freely with him … it wasn’t something Chase would ever be able to do himself in this lifetime.

Aven caught his eye, then, winking, and like some sort of lovesick puppy dog, Chase’s heart sank even further. And when Heidi cupped her hand around Aven’s ear and moved closer, he’d seen as much as he could take.

“Gotta take a piss,” he mumbled, scrambling to his feet.

Inside the house, he paused, leaning back against the rust-colored walls to settle his thoughts. What in the hell was he doing pining after a straight boy? A rich, popular, straight boy who could get anyone he wanted, and Chase legitimately had no idea what Aven saw in him at all, besides someone to play guitar with, and just—

His ever-expanding crush was ridiculous. He never should have agreed to spend the night at Aven’s, it could only make things worse. Allowing himself to fantasize over someone who didn’t share his feelings, well, it wouldn’t cause anything other than grief. In this universe, Aven would never like Chase back. Not in the way he so desperately wanted and wished for more and more each day. Never in the way Chase pictured them while getting dressed in the morning, and all through another boring period of math, and at night when he …

Yeah.

His starry-eyed delusions were only going to get his heart pulverized. And—

Damn.

Chase’s lip quivered, his throat getting tight.

“Fuck it,” he cursed, pushing off the wall and rushing for the bathroom before anyone could walk in and catch him sniffling like a fool over a boy who was probably kissing someone else right now.

Hustling down the hall, he turned a tight corner and crashed right into a hard, black-clad chest.

“Oh!” he said, quickly swiping at his eyes. “Shit, I’m so, so sorry.”

“No need to be.”

He looked up, right into the ice-blue eyes of Trent Williams.

Oh, shiiiiit.

Chase had never given much weight to fame. No matter how many people knew who you were, your toilet still stunk. But there was something about being up close to Trent that made Chase feel a little starstruck, a little dizzy with nerves.

“I’m Trent,” Trent said needlessly.

“Yeah ... I kinda know. ‘Gray Everyone’ is a pretty big hit?”

Trent pulled an expression that said he couldn’t care less. That’s a rock star for you. Cool as a cucumber even when they win the lottery.

“Congrats on that,” Chase rambled on, “must be nice to be able to make music your career, and—”

“Are you okay?” Trent asked, cutting in. He made a gesture towards Chase’s tear-stained face.

“Oh.” Chase scrubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s just that …”

He clipped the thought short. What was there to say really? I think I’m hardcore falling in love with a totally unattainable guy who invited me over to spend the night at his place and I’m freaking the fuck out because I don’t know how in the hell to handle it? Not exactly the sort of casual conversation you have with a famous stranger you bumped into in a darkened hallway.

“Boy troubles?” Trent suggested, and Chase’s head jerked back. Holy shit. How could he be that obvious? Was he walking around with a face that shrieked of mooning over Aven Sinclair?

Trent smirked, this sly expression that left Chase feeling even more upside down.

“You’re really good,” Trent told him, and Chase got even more confused.

“Huh …?”

“At guitar.”

“Okay. Right. Thanks.”

“What’s the name of your band?” Trent asked, leaning a hip against the wall, like he had all the time in the world to chat with a high schooler at a Halloween party.

“Oh, I’m not in one.”

“You should be,” he said, and a pleased thrill shot right through Chase. Trent took a pull of beer, eying him up and down. “And about that boy?”

Chase nodded his head a little, as close as he could get to confirming his feelings without saying it out loud.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on with you.”

RECORD. SCRATCH. Rewind. Trent Williams. Trent Williams, lead singer and songwriter of Paranormal Romance was straight up hitting on him in a deserted hallway at a house party.

What the actual fuck!

Before Chase could even begin to wrap his head around that, Aven turned the corner, Andi in tow, and Aven’s eyes went back and forth between Chase and Trent like he wasn’t quite sure he believed what he was seeing.

“I was looking for you,” Aven said, his voice low, gaze darting uncertainly towards Trent. “We’re leaving now.” He hooked a hand around Chase’s elbow, gently pulling him away. Chase looked back, once, over his shoulder, and Trent tossed him a wave and a knowing grin.

“What were you doing talking to him?” Andi questioned with wide eyes once they were out of earshot.

“Nothing really, I just wanted to give Aven some space.”

Aven’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Space. From?”

“I kind of gathered you and Heidi might want some privacy?”

“We didn’t.” He aimed a look Chase’s way. “She’s not my type.”

“Everyone’s your type.” Andi made like she was jacking off a dick. “Even your own right hand is your type.”

“She wasn’t who had my attention tonight,” Aven said softly, looking away. “I had one person on my mind, but I don’t think they’re that into me.”

Chase tensed. They’d stayed side-by-side all night and he hadn’t noticed Aven paying any particular sort of mind to anyone besides Heidi. Knowing Aven wanted someone, had his eye on another person the entire time he was stuck with Chase, was the freakin’ worst.

Aven tugged on Chase’s sleeve, giving him a tight smile. “You ready to go?” he asked, snapping Chase out of his guessing game over who Aven had the hots for.

Because it didn’t matter anyway.

Whoever Aven was crushing on, it wasn’t him.

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