Home and Away

by Ariel Tachna

  “Is da rules,” Patty said.

  “No yelling in the house, Patty,” an imposing man in his late forties said from the hallway.

  “Sowwy, Unca Derek.”

  “Hi, Derek. This is Linc. Linc, Derek Jackson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson,” Linc said, pulling out his mother’s best manners.

  “You start with that Mr. Jackson sh—stuff, you’re going to end up mighty confused. There are three of us here. Just call me Derek,” Derek said, shaking Linc’s hand. “And we’re glad you could come. Kit’s been talking about you for weeks now. Great game against Duke. I’m enough of a believer to want them to lose, but I’ll take an exciting game over a blowout any day.”

  “Derek’s a true basketball fan,” Kit said. “Not just UK or a specific player or anything. He knows all the teams, all the players, all the stats.”

  “We’ll have to find a chance to talk,” Linc said. “Get an outside perspective.”

  “If Kit will let me steal you away,” Derek said.

  “I don’t know,” Kit replied. “I share him with sports enough of the time as it is.”

  Linc pulled Kit in close to his side. He couldn’t change the amount of time he spent playing basketball or the demands of the fans when they went out after a game, but he could give Kit his full attention outside of game and practice time.

  “Really, Derek, you can let them in all the way before you start monopolizing them.” The man who greeted them had candy-apple—or Valentine’s Day—red hair and the same mountain accent Ephah had. If Linc didn’t miss his guess, this was Uncle Owen, the bookstore owner.

  “Sorry, Owen. Come in, guys.”

  “Welcome to the madhouse,” Owen said. “I’d say you get used to it, but I’m not sure that’s a promise I can make.”

  “It can’t be worse than the Joyner family reunions back in Hodgenville,” Linc said.

  Owen chuckled. “Let me know if you still think that by the time we’re done with dinner.”

  “I swear, you all are going to scare him off,” Kit muttered at Linc’s elbow.

  “I don’t scare easily,” Linc assured him.

  “That’s probably a good thing, but I’ll do my best to keep them in line.” The man who’d spoken had the kindest eyes and smile Linc had ever seen. He found himself smiling in return.

  “Uncle Blake,” Kit said, and Linc could hear the relief in his voice. “I was beginning to think you weren’t here for some reason.”

  “Of course we’re here. I just got pulled into helping in the kitchen.” Blake gave Kit a hug and offered his hand to Linc. “Nice to meet you, Linc. I’m Blake Barnes.”

  “Nice to meet you too, sir.” After the way Kit had talked about his uncle, Linc wanted the man on his side for sure.

  “Why don’t you two come in the kitchen with me while we finish up the last few things for dinner?” Blake suggested. “Even the lure of meeting you won’t be enough to get the rest of them in the kitchen, and that will give us a chance to get acquainted.”

  Linc looked over at Kit, trying to gauge his reaction to Blake’s suggestion. On the one hand, a bit of calm away from the chaos he could hear in the living room and the flood of people he’d already met—not to mention the ones he hadn’t met yet—sounded good. On the other hand, if there was one person Linc needed to impress, it was Blake. Kit looked completely unconcerned, so Linc nodded and followed them deeper into the house.

  The kitchen smelled of pot roast and vegetables. Even better, as Blake had promised, they were the only ones in the room.

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Kit asked.

  “No, get yourselves something to drink and relax. There’s red wine open, or there’s beer and sodas in the fridge if you’d prefer,” Blake replied. “Linc, what can we get for you?”

  “I’ll just have water,” Linc said. “I have practice tonight, and Coach would bench me if I showed up with alcohol on my breath.”

  “Well, we can’t have that,” Blake replied as Kit got a glass and filled it for him. “I don’t know much about basketball, but I know the tournaments are coming up. You can’t live in this town and not have Wildcat fever around this time of year.”

  “It means a lot to the team to have that kind of community support,” Linc said.

  Blake chuckled. “Humble too. I like that in a person. This is the wrong time of year to ask, but what else do you enjoy besides basketball?”

  “History,” Linc said. “Not sure how much good a history major will do me in the real world, but it fascinates me.”

  “A good foil to Kit, then,” Blake said. Next to him, Kit groaned. Linc took a sip of his water to hide his confusion.

  “You told me you weren’t going to grill him,” Kit said.

  “I’m not grilling anyone. I’m just making conversation,” Blake replied easily. “And it’s important to have different interests as well as shared ones. Otherwise you end up having the same conversations over and over with no new material to talk about.”

  Linc bit back a smile. Blake might be subtler about it than anyone else, but Linc would bet good money on him being the most protective of all. “My parents have worked on the farm together their whole lives, and you’re right about there not being much new to talk about at dinner.”

  “See, Kit? It’s good advice.”

  Kit rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Fine.”

  Blake fiddled at the stove for a minute, then came to the table with his glass of wine and sat with Kit and Linc. “History, then. Any particular area of interest?”

  “All of them,” Linc said, “but the thing I like best is the forgotten people angle. Looking at history from the point of view of the voiceless, whether that’s the losing side of a war, the indigenous people who didn’t have a written record to share their side of European conquest, or the subjugated people in all the various regimes past and present.”

  “It’s a fascinating angle,” Blake agreed. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on it, but Kit is going to vibrate out of his seat soon, and if we start talking history, we’ll lose him for sure.”

  “Ha-ha,” Kit said. “Uncle Blake is a history and theater nerd.”

  “That gives me a connection with both of you,” Blake replied without missing a beat. “Even if you don’t do nearly as much theater as you used to.”

  “Once we graduate, I’ll have more time, and I’ll come help out at Henry Clay, even if I can’t find any other community theater options,” Kit said.

  “What do you have planned for after graduation?” Blake asked Linc.

  “It depends,” Linc replied honestly. “I’ve put my name in for the NBA draft, but I won’t know about that until mid-June. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll probably try to find something local until I can apply for graduate school.”

  Next to him Kit flinched a little, but when Linc shot him a questioning look, he shook his head. Linc let it go for now, but he was definitely going to ask Kit about it later, when they found a moment alone. Yeah, being drafted would mean even more of a celebrity status than he had in Lexington, but it would also be less concentrated. In Lexington everyone was a UK fan. That wouldn’t hold true for most of the NBA teams. And if that wasn’t it, he could find out what it was so they could deal with it.

  “It’s always good to have a backup plan.”

  Linc wasn’t sure whether Blake considered the NBA or graduate school as the backup plan.

  KIT sat quietly as Blake and Linc talked, and he tried not to think about Linc and the NBA. The thought of losing Linc to the pros—the closest NBA team was in Indianapolis, three hours away, but Linc could end up anywhere—chilled Kit, but he pushed that thought aside. They had months still until anything would happen, and for all he knew, Linc wouldn’t get drafted. He could worry about it then. Fortunately Blake was too focused on Linc to notice Kit’s distraction, but that wouldn’t last long. He had to get his head back in the game.

  “The savages are gett
ing restless,” Uncle Thane said as he came into the kitchen. “How long until you’re done in here and we can eat?”

  “Whenever we’re ready,” Blake said. “I was just enjoying my conversation with Linc.”

  Linc stood up. “Linc Joyner,” he said as he proffered his hand.

  “Thane Dalton,” Uncle Thane replied, shaking Linc’s hand. He fixed Kit with a piercing stare. “He’s keeping Blake engaged, so he’s obviously smart. He’s definitely your type—do you—”

  “Thane,” Blake scolded as Kit slapped his hands over his ears.

  Thane rolled his eyes and turned that stare on Linc. “What are you doing with Kit?”

  Kit groaned at the question, but he didn’t interrupt. At least Uncle Thane hadn’t asked Linc if all he was looking for was a good time, or worse, if they were just fucking, like he’d done with the last guy Kit dated. Of course Uncle Thane had been right about Mason’s intentions, no matter how wrong Kit had accused him of being at the time, so maybe that was a good sign.

  “Why wouldn’t I be with Kit?” Linc asked. “He’s a fantastic guy—smart, funny, kind—and he looks at me and sees more than a basketball player.”

  Thane studied Linc a moment longer before glancing at Kit. “He’ll do.” Then he turned back to Linc. For all that Linc was taller by several inches, Uncle Thane seemed to tower over him in that moment. “Be good to Kit.”

  “Yes, sir,” Linc replied.

  Kit wished the floor would open up and swallow him, but Thane simply gave a decisive nod and walked out.

  Linc collapsed back into his chair like his string had been cut. “You didn’t tell me your uncle was so intense.”

  Kit snorted. “That was nothing. You should have seen him with the people he didn’t like.”

  Linc shuddered. “If that was him liking me, I’m sure glad he doesn’t hate me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Blake assured them. “He doesn’t hate you. Let me serve the roast Owen has in the oven, and you boys can carry everything out to the table.” He turned toward the oven, giving Kit and Linc that much privacy.

  Kit leaned over and kissed Linc softly. “What time is practice over?” he asked softly.

  “Six. Why?”

  Kit leaned in closer. “So I know what time to meet you at your dorm.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  LINC had never been so glad for a short practice. He took the quickest shower known to man and practically sprinted across campus toward his dorm, ignoring the hoots from his teammates at the speed of his departure. He had more important things on his mind—like the fact that Kit was waiting for him. And the sexy promise in his voice when he’d said he’d meet Linc there after practice. Mutual furtive handjobs aside, Linc didn’t want to think how long it had been since he’d had sex. Between basketball keeping him busy and a general desire not to sleep with someone who only wanted him for his celebrity, he hadn’t dated anyone in over a year. Now he had this smart, kind, funny, gorgeous—yes, he’d left that out when talking to Kit’s uncle. He had some sense, despite his mother’s insistence otherwise—man waiting for him at his dorm. This amazing man who had taken him home to meet the family and stayed by his side as he ran that gauntlet.

  He stepped into the dorm lounge to find Kit sitting there, talking to Caleb, one of the second-string freshmen. Linc fully expected him to be in the starting lineup next year after Linc and Pete graduated. “Hi, Linc,” Kit said brightly, standing up as soon as he saw Linc. Linc had taken to cataloging Kit’s expressions, and the one on his face now—pure happiness with a hint of desire—was one of Linc’s favorites. He’d put that look there, by having dinner with Kit’s family, by earning the approval of Kit’s scary uncle, by being here now. “How was practice?”

  “Good. You’re here earlier than I expected.” Linc walked to Kit’s side, smiling down at him. He didn’t kiss Kit, as tempted as he was, with Caleb sitting right there. That could wait until they were alone.

  Kit’s smile widened even more as his pupils dilated, desire taking hold over happiness. “I got impatient. And Phillip and Marisol came home. It seemed easier to leave them alone.”

  Linc laughed. Based on the interactions he’d seen so far, it was only a matter of time before Marisol moved in or Phillip moved out. “I’m not going to complain about you already being here.” No, he wouldn’t complain about anything that let him spend more time with Kit.

  Kit said goodbye to Caleb and followed Linc up the stairs and down the hall to his room. “It’s just a dorm room,” he warned Kit. He’d taken the time to straighten up before practice, dumping his dirty clothes in the hamper, putting clean sheets on the bed, and stacking his textbooks neatly on his desk, but nothing could hide the fact that it was a single dorm room, small and sparse.

  “It has a door that locks and no annoying brothers to beat on the wall if we happen to get loud.” Kit laid a hand on Linc’s back, low enough to send a shiver through Linc at the prospect of moving it lower. “That’s all it needs, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Kit was going to kill him before they ever got inside. Linc was absolutely okay with that.

  He unlocked the door and walked in. Kit crowded in behind him, staying as close as he could. Damn, it turned him on, seeing how much Kit wanted him too. Linc turned the lock and pulled Kit into his arms. “Your coat is cold,” Kit protested. “Take it off.”

  Linc shed the outer layer, paused to consider a moment, then went ahead and pulled his sweatshirt and T-shirt off too. If he’d misread Kit’s intentions—not sure how he could have with that hand nearly on his ass, but if he had—he could always put it back on.

  “Mmm, nice.” Kit stepped closer and nuzzled Linc’s sternum. “Don’t stop, though.”

  “Eager?” Linc teased, but he bent to untie his gym shoes.

  “Are you really going to complain because I want to strip you naked and blow you?” Kit asked.

  Linc nearly fell over right there. “Fuck, Kit. Blunt much?”

  “You met Uncle Thane. I come by it honestly. He only holds his tongue around Patty. With anyone else, he says what he means in as few words as possible, and everyone else can just deal with it. But you didn’t answer my question. Are you going to complain?” He stepped back and pulled off his own sweater, dropping it on the desk chair before reaching for his belt.

  Yeah, Linc had met Uncle Thane all right, and that brought him up short. Thane had given him one very clear rule: Be good to Kit. And while being good to him didn’t preclude sex, Linc wanted more than that. He caught Kit’s hands before he could undo his pants and pulled Kit into his arms. “What’s the rush? I’m not complaining about the destination, but there’s something to be said for anticipation too.”

  He spun Kit around and backed him toward the bed. Kit caught on quickly and stepped out of his shoes before stretching out on Linc’s bed. Damn, he looked good there. Like he belonged. Linc followed him down and pulled him into a kiss.

  They’d done this before, naked to the waist and making out, but they’d been sitting up then, on the couch in Kit’s living room, knowing they had a time limit because Phillip and Ephah would be home. Lying in his bed with the door locked and no worry about being interrupted added an extra layer of heat to the moment. Kit had mentioned a blow job, and Linc certainly wouldn’t complain about that, but they could start there or end there, or it could be somewhere in the middle of whatever the evening brought. Or they could skip it altogether and do something else. And in the meantime, he could discover all the little nooks and crannies that drove Kit wild.

  He kissed his way along Kit’s jaw to nibble at his earlobe. Would the piercing there, empty of an earring tonight, make him more or less sensitive? Kit’s gasp encouraged him to explore a little more, so he sucked lightly on the bit of flesh. Kit moaned and rocked his hips against Linc, but he kept his head still. Linc sucked a little harder, drawing more noises from Kit. God, he was already addicted to those sounds.

  He licked and nibbled down Kit’s neck, be
ing careful not to leave any lasting marks. Kit had to work at Alltech tomorrow, and as much as Linc liked the idea of staking a visible claim on Kit, that would have to wait for another time. Kit jerked against him and grabbed his head when he reached a spot just below his collarbone. He paused his explorations long enough to look up. “Good?”

  “So good,” Kit gasped. Linc liked the sound of that, like the proof he was being good to Kit.

  With Kit’s encouragement, Linc zeroed in on that spot, adding a hint of teeth to the contact. Kit squirmed against him until he could wrap one leg around Linc’s waist. Linc curled his fingers into the curve of Kit’s ass, holding him in place. The difference in their heights meant Kit’s cock was pressed into Linc’s stomach rather than his groin, but Linc was used to compensating. He slid a little lower until he could draw one pink nipple into his mouth.

  “Fuck,” Kit groaned.

  “Too much?” Linc asked.

  “Not enough.”

  Well, in that case…. Linc captured the peak between his teeth and flicked his tongue back and forth over it, determined to drive Kit to the brink any way he could. Then—and only then—they’d see about getting naked.

  Kit thrashed in his arms, dislodging Linc’s mouth, but that was fine. Linc kissed his way down Kit’s stomach, pausing to tease Kit’s navel with his tongue. That, it seemed, was Kit’s breaking point. He rolled, pushing Linc onto his back, and straddled Linc’s hips. “My turn.”

  Linc lay back against the pillows and rested his hands on Kit’s hips, right above the waist of his pants. He stroked the smooth skin with his thumbs as he waited to see what Kit would do next. While he had his own hopes for the evening, he would let himself be guided by Kit’s desires for now. He didn’t think he’d be disappointed in the end.

  For a moment, Kit simply stared down at Linc. “What?” Linc asked.

  “Just thinking I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Kit said.