by L. A. Witt
“Sounds perfect. I love road trips anyway.” He gestured at Lola. “Does she mind being in the car that long?”
“Oh, not at all. If she needs to get out and go to the bathroom, she’ll let me know, but she actually likes being in the car.” I grinned. “And if you think she’s nuts about squirrels, wait till she sees a seagull.”
Adam threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, we’re definitely going. Because this I gotta see.”
Chapter 11
Adam
Brian picked me up at eight the next morning so we could get an early start. We grabbed breakfast at a drive-thru—sharing with Lola, of course—and hit the road.
And wow—the drive out to the Olympic Peninsula was beyond gorgeous. We took a ferry to a town called Kingston, and from there took the highway, which led us across a long floating bridge and into rolling, forested hills.
“This place must be really pretty in the fall,” I said as Brian drove us along a sun-dappled stretch between some huge maple trees.
“It’s pretty any time of the year, really. I swear I’m going to retire out here.”
“Yeah? I can see why.” I leaned forward to look up at the mountains. “I wouldn’t go back to my hometown for the world, but I’d love to live in the middle of nowhere again. Especially if it looks like this.”
“Right?” He was quiet for a moment before he cautiously asked, “So, you’re not a fan of your hometown?”
Scowling, I shook my head. “It’s one of those tiny, backasswards places where everyone’s in everyone else’s business.” I paused, silently debating how much to tell someone I’d technically just met. “And my, um, family is still there.”
Brian glanced at me, eyebrows up. “Things aren’t good with them?”
“They’re… complicated.” The word was sour on my tongue. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“I can imagine. I, um, noticed you don’t talk about them much. In interviews, I mean.”
I laughed bitterly. “No, I don’t, and they hate it.”
He looked at me again, unspoken questions etched all over his face, but he didn’t ask.
With a sigh, I sat back against the passenger seat and stared straight ahead. “My parents had no idea I was gay until I came out in an interview four years ago. Well, that’s not quite true. They suspected it. They threatened me with conversion therapy, and even sent me to a conversion therapist twice just to be absolutely sure.”
“Holy shit,” Brian breathed. “What the hell?”
“Yeah. It was bad. The therapist told them they had nothing to worry about. I was perfectly straight, and neither my depression nor my obsession with acting were signs of latent homosexuality.” I rolled my eyes. “And everyone was shocked when I left for LA the day after I graduated high school.”
“But hadn’t you said you wanted to act?”
“Oh yeah. I’d said it for years.” I turned around and reached back to pet Lola, who was snoozing across the backseat. “Most people figured I wouldn’t follow through, and the rest didn’t think I had the chops to make it.” I laughed bitterly. “Joke was on them—I’m such a good actor I convinced them all I was straight.”
“Fuck. That’s brutal.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “And a bad actor? Like… have these people seen your movies?”
“Of course they have. I’m a hometown hero now. The small town kid who made it big and put Kleinsville on the map.” I sighed as I patted Lola’s side, then faced forward again. “They all just try to ignore the part about me being openly gay.”
“I’m surprised they’re willing to overlook that if they’re so against gay people,” he grumbled with more venom than I’d heard from him before.
“It’s a lot easier to understand when you realize everyone in town knows my net worth on a given day.”
He shot me a startled look. “What?”
“My family gets to lord it over everyone that their son is rich.” God, I was exhausted just talking about those people. “And they think if they’re super nice to me now, I’ll forget how much they shit all over my acting dreams, not to mention how they treated me when they just thought I was gay. Then maybe some of that money will find its way to them.”
“Jesus,” he whispered.
I rolled my shoulders, which had suddenly tightened. “I’m sorry. That was a depressing line of conversation.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I just hadn’t realized your parents had been such dicks to you. Or that they still are.”
“Yeah. There’s a reason I don’t go home unless I absolutely have to.” I studied him out of the corner of my eye for a moment, wondering if I should change the subject or lay another card on the table. Finally, I said, “Remember that day at the diner?”
Brian nodded.
I took a deep breath. “Right before I brought you your food, I got a text from my mom. It was basically the same one she sent me almost daily, which was more or less ‘it’s okay to give up and come home.’”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yeah. And I was so low that day, her message pretty much took me to my breaking point. Like, even my own mom didn’t believe in me, so why was I wasting my time?” I forced back the lump that still rose in my throat every time I talked about this. “That was the moment I made up my mind. I was going to bail on the audition, pack my things, and go home. I had my two weeks notice written and everything.”
Brian moistened his lips. “So you were serious in your speech? That you were going back to that place and those people?”
“Where else could I go?” I whispered. “I was broke. I had a high school diploma and a real impressive résumé that included getting fired from two restaurant jobs. It was either stay in LA and keep trying, or go home.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. It was literally that day, during that shift, when I made the decision. And then… you.”
He gulped. He’d heard this before, of course, but maybe, like me, it was different like this. Instead of a speech, I was saying it directly to him. To his face. To the man who’d changed the course of my life without even knowing it.
“So, I’m dead serious,” I went on, “when I say you changed my life. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be back in Kleinsville, probably closeted and definitely miserable.”
“That’s… wow.” He exhaled hard. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just really want you to know how much it means that you said what you did back then.”
Brian glanced at me, and he smiled. “I’m just glad I didn’t chicken out. Because I almost did.”
My pulse surged. It was done and over with, and he’d said what he’d said and I’d kept my future on the rails, and now we were here together, but I still couldn’t help thinking how close we’d come to things being very, very different. What if he hadn’t said anything? What if I’d quit a week or two before like I’d seriously considered doing? What if I’d blown the audition after all, or I hadn’t won the award, or I’d decided against making that particular speech? Hell, what if he’d gone to another restaurant altogether?
My voice was a bit shaky, and all I could say was, “I’m really glad you didn’t chicken out too.”
~*~
We stuck to lighter subjects for the rest of the drive, and after we’d had lunch in the car outside a Subway, Brian parked in a shady dirt lot next to a trailhead. He put a small backpack on his shoulders, attached Lola’s leash, unclipped her seatbelt, and let her jump out of the car.
“Ready to go chase some seagulls?” he asked.
She woofed, tail wagging rapidly.
I chuckled. “If she sees a squirrel and a seagull, her head’s going to explode.”
“Yeah, probably.”
We walked down a narrow, winding path, and minutes later, it let us out onto a beach that seemed to go on for miles in either direction. It wasn’t like the beaches in Southern California, that was for sure. Rocky in some places, s
andy in others. Long walls of enormous evergreens stood opposite the water. Almost no signs of human life aside from a guy fishing in the waist-deep surf, and a black and red cargo ship so far in the distance it was almost invisible. Beyond those, it was just the three of us.
Neither of us said much as we wandered down the beach. We threw Lola’s toy a few times, and Brian called her off twice from chasing flocks of seagulls. As we continued, there were some people and other dogs in the distance, so he put her back on her leash, and she strolled happily along beside him.
After a while, we stopped to sit on a giant driftwood log, and Brian took a plastic dish and a water bottle out of the backpack. He poured some for Lola and set it down beside her. She lapped at it, splashing everywhere, before flopping down on the sand. Brian looped her leash around a sturdy branch—probably so she wouldn’t yank his arm off if she suddenly darted after a seagull—and put the backpack on the ground at his feet.
And for the longest time, we just sat there and gazed out at the ocean. The whole world was silent except the rolling waves and Lola’s quiet panting.
I didn’t realize how little either of us had said until Brian broke the silence.
“So, that day at the diner…” He kept his attention fixed on the water.
I watched him. “Yeah?”
He was quiet for a moment, then absently petted Lola as he said, “I’m glad I didn’t chicken out. Really glad. But I also…” He swallowed. “I also kind of did chicken out.”
“How do you mean?”
More silence. Then he pulled in a deep breath. “I… I mean, everything I said was true. But for the last five years, I’ve been kicking myself because I also wanted to ask for your number.”
I sat a little straighter. “You did?”
Still not looking at me, he nodded. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t want to make any assumptions. I had no idea if you were gay or not. And…” He laughed self-consciously, staring down as he thumbed the backpack strap. “Just didn’t have the balls to do it.” Finally, he turned to me, the shyest and sweetest smile on his lips. “So when I say it’s surreal to have you here…”
My heart did things I hadn’t realized it could do, and it took a moment for me to find my voice. “I had no idea.”
“Probably because I was too much of a coward to let it show.” The smile faded, and he shifted his attention back out to the ocean. “I’ve never been very good at approaching guys. Especially not…”
I cocked my head. “What?”
He turned to me again and whispered, “Look at yourself, Adam. You’re gorgeous. I mean, when you messed up my order? I wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t said something because I’d completely forgotten what I’d ordered. I was…” He blushed, and his voice was soft as he added, “I was too busy looking at you.”
My brain went blank and my mouth went dry. I stared at him, disbelieving he’d just said all of that. Finally, I found my voice and managed to murmur, “Are you serious?”
Dropping his gaze, he nodded. “I hope that’s not going to make things weird now, but I just—”
I took his hand, and we both stilled. He looked at me again.
“It won’t make things weird,” I said. “In fact, I thought about asking for your number that day too.”
His eyebrows shot up and his hand twitched under mine. “You did?”
“Yeah. Even before you had me sign your book, I…” Now it was undoubtedly my turn to blush. “Well, I was having a hard time remembering what you ordered too, so there you go.”
Brian laughed. “Damn. We were on the same page and didn’t even realize it.”
“Not back then, no.”
I held his gaze.
He held mine.
And somehow, the space between us shrank. The ocean seemed farther away, and the whole world was still and silent except for the electricity crackling in the air as we slowly—slowly—moved in closer. Blood pounded in my ears. Brian turned his hand over and laced our fingers together.
Our lips met in a tentative brush. Then one of us went back for more, and just like that, the kiss I’d fantasized about for five years was real. Brian’s lips were pressed fully against mine, and when he exhaled, his warm breath whispered across my cheek.
He freed his hand from mine, and I had a split second to be disappointed by the broken contact before his arm slid around my waist. I wrapped my arm around him too, and slid my other hand up his chest, and dear God, when his fingertips grazed my beard, I nearly lost it. His touch was so gentle, his kiss so sweet and soft, that I was putty in his hands.
And that was before he gently parted my lips and deepened the kiss. His fingers slid up into my hair in the same moment his tongue slid into my mouth, and it was a damn good thing he had an arm around me or I would absolutely have toppled off the log we were sitting on.
After the tide must have gone in and out three or four times—seemed like it, anyway—Brian touched his forehead to mine. His hand was still in my hair, fingertips trembling slightly against my scalp. In a barely audible voice, he said, “Whoa.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
He drew back a little so we could see each other. Wow, he was gorgeous. He had been already, but with that hint of a flush in his cheeks and the way his lips were just slightly swollen now, he was jaw-dropping.
I did that to you?
He caressed my beard. I thought he was going to say something, but then he moved back in for another kiss. This one was just as intense as the first, plus added confidence from each of us. I had visions of us ripping clothes off and screwing right here on the beach, which sent twin surges of arousal and fear through me. I wanted him, and I’d wanted him ever since the day at the diner, but now that getting physical was suddenly a very real possibility—now that it was pretty much happening—a whole new set of worries crashed over me.
I broke the kiss this time, and looked in his eyes. “Listen, um… just so we’re on the same page…” I swallowed. “I don’t… I’m not…”
“You don’t want to rush in?”
I blinked. “How did you know?”
Brian smiled, combing his fingers through my hair. “Because I was about to say the same thing. I have this conversation with every guy.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “I want… whatever it is we’re doing, I like it. And I want it. Just… slow.”
Relief took over where the apprehension had been, and I exhaled. “Yeah. Exactly. I don’t want to rush, but I definitely want this.”
“Same.” He lifted his chin, and we came together in another long kiss. This one was different than before. Still hungry and intense, but… more relaxed? As if there was no pressure now, and we could just enjoy kissing without any expectation of more.
I hoped there would be more. I hoped there would be a lot more.
But right now, this was exactly as much as I wanted. Brian was holding me, and he was kissing me, and he wanted me, and he was willing to tap the brakes a bit instead of going full speed ahead. I was turned on and curious, and I wanted to do everything, but I still held back. One thing at a time.
Except…
God, I want to wait.
But the more you kiss me like this, the less I can wait.
I held him tighter and explored his mouth.
No, we wouldn’t end up going any further here on this beach.
But I had a feeling we wouldn’t wait much longer.
Chapter 12
Brian
The real thing was so much better than the fantasy. Holy crap. Adam practically melted in my arms, and his kiss was firm but not forceful. Exactly the way I loved it. And it was also a million times better than the fantasy because it wasn’t a fantasy—it was really happening. I was sitting on a beach on a beautiful day with the most gorgeous man on the planet in my arms, and if he moaned like that again, I was going to straight up die right here and now.
He drew back and looked in my eyes. My God. I’d always known Adam ha
d amazing brown eyes, but they’d never been as stunning as they were right then.
He was a little out of breath as he said, “If you keep kissing me, we’re going to have to figure out a definition for ‘moving slow.’”
I laughed and realized I was breathless too. “I’m starting to think we’re going to have to play that definition by ear.”
“You’re probably right.” His laugh was so quiet it was almost inaudible. He watched his finger trailing along my jaw. “I, uh, definitely wasn’t expecting this.”
“Yeah. Same.” And I really was rethinking what I meant by moving slow. I was so not a man who jumped into bed on a first date. Hookups weren’t my thing. Never had been. I just wasn’t wired for it. With the way my whole body responded to Adam’s touch—warming all over, goose bumps prickling along every inch of skin, my cock hardening until it was painful in my snug jeans—I was considering making an exception.
A shy grin formed on his lips, and his eyes flicked up to meet mine. “I knew there was a reason I still wanted to see you after the talk show.”
Smoothing his hair, I chuckled. “So we could make out on a beach?”
Adam laughed for real this time. “Well, I mean… I’m not against making out on a beach with you.” He swallowed, and sobered a bit. “I just mean… I had a feeling…”
I nodded. “Me too. I didn’t expect this, but…”
He held my gaze, then moved in for another kiss. He wasn’t the first man I’d ever kissed who had facial hair, so why did the brush of his soft, short beard drive me so crazy? Eh, who cared? It did, and I liked it.
Beside me, tags jingled and Lola huffed. Adam and I separated, both turning to her. Beside her paws she had a stick that was partially chewed, but apparently she’d lost interest in that. Now she had her chin on the sand and was staring up at us, big brown eyes full of Dad, can we go?
“Poor baby.” Adam reached down to pet her. “We’ve been ignoring you, haven’t we?”
“She just wants to get up and move.” I patted her side. “We’re on a beach full of seagulls and sticks, and she probably still wants to run around.”
