Love You Like a Romance Novel

by Megan Derr

  Given that his own secret hobby was writing romance novels and the way Jet's mind worked, how had it never occurred to him? Was he really that much of an idiot?

  "Why are you giving me that look?" Jet asked.

  "You wrote that song about us."

  Jet stared at him. His mouth tipped at one corner. "Well, yeah. Did it really take you this long to figure that out?"

  "You wrote that song three years ago," Jason replied. "Why would it ever occur to me that such a soppy song would be about us?"

  Jet laughed and sat up, then crawled to the end of the bed and reached out to tug him close by his belt loops. Jason shuddered at the look in his eyes, the way Jet's tongue flicked out to touch his lip. "Jesus, you're distracting," he muttered before he obediently went as Jet dragged him down for a wet, dirty kiss that made Jason extremely bitter he had to leave. "I have to go. Stop being distracting."

  "No," Jet murmured, licking his lips before mouthing at the mark he'd left on Jason's neck when they'd first crawled into bed a few hours before. Jason swore, but was helpless to stop him when Jet undid his jeans and pulled out his cock. Jesus, Jet had a mouth on him, and Jason never really got used to it no matter how many times they'd already done this. The tangled hair and messy remains of Jet's make-up just moved him from hot to incendiary. Jason groaned as Jet took him deeper and sank his fingers into that tangled mass of hair, held on tightly as he came.

  Jet pulled back, smirking, and wiped his chin. He flopped back on the bed and Jason crawled over him to return the favor. Jet's fingers lazily mapped his skin as he finished, and then tugged him up into a long kiss that made leaving harder than ever. "Don't be gone too long," Jet murmured when Jason finally untangled himself and stood up to set his clothes to rights.

  "I won't be," Jason said. "Pack your stuff."

  "Yeah, yeah," Jet replied and climbed out of bed. He gave Jason a last quick kiss in parting before heading for the bathroom, and Jason left with a sigh as he heard the water start running.

  The drive to his parents' house was entirely too short, and he made his way out of the car and into the house as slowly as possible. He let himself in through the kitchen and was not even remotely surprised to see an empty bottle of gin on the counter next to wedges of lime and a half-full bottle of club soda. Best to avoid his mother, then. He stifled another sigh and headed for his father's office.

  He was surprised to see the desk vacant—but less so when he saw his father standing by the windows. Jason closed the door, some sort of finality in the muted click of it shutting. "Father."

  "Are you mocking me, calling me that?" Henry asked.

  "No," Jason said quietly. "You raised me, you gave me a life and opportunities few could, especially these days. I'm a lot like you, but not so alike that I would throw you aside because of something like this."

  Henry's mouth tightened as he finally turned away from the windows to glare. "You think my treatment of you and Jeff is out of line. What was I supposed to do? Tolerate that you've been fucking your out-of-control cousin? That you risked causing a lot of problems, not just for your family but for the firm, our friends."

  "Except he's not really my cousin," Jason snapped. "If you had told me the truth years ago as you should have, everything would have played out quite differently. A hell of a lot differently. There would have been fewer secrets, a lot of people would have been happier. Do not blame everyone else for your mistakes. There were better ways to work out all that has happened these past several weeks, as we've argued before."

  Eyes blazing, Henry snarled. "My mistakes? No, it was your mother's mistake that I was forced to clean up."

  "No, you weren't," Jason said quietly. "You've never let anyone force you to do anything you're entire life. In fact, that's the strangest part of this entire affair. It's not like you to keep the son of your wife's lover. It's not like you to keep your wife after something like that. I've tried to puzzle it out, but I still have no idea why you behaved so uncharacteristically."

  Henry didn't reply, just turned back around to stare out the windows and sip at the tumbler of whiskey clutched tightly in one hand. Jason let the silence stretch on, unwilling to break it when he was not the one who should be explaining things.

  Several minutes passed before Henry haltingly said, "We'd had trouble having children. Shortly before you came along, we had nearly resigned ourselves not to having them."

  Some of Jason's resentment slipped away at that, though not all of it. Whatever the family problems and complications, he had never doubted his parents cared in their unbending, convoluted way. If they hadn't cared, they would have reacted quite differently to all that had happened.

  If the troubles conceiving were on his mother's end, Henry would have said. The fact he did not elaborate said that the difficulties were on his end. It must have been a hard blow to take, as he and Uncle Jeff had always wanted children, had always wanted a way to pass on their legacies. "But you had Dai later."

  "You were still the oldest, my first, however you were conceived," Henry said.

  "I'm Abraham's son, too," Jason said. "He didn't deserve to be cut entirely from my life." Henry made no reply. "Are you going to keep acting like this?"

  "What do you want me to do? You've made it clear you stand well on the other side of this matter with that damnable cousin of yours. Or do you think I'm unaware that whatever you spout about rights and who deserves to know what, the only thing you really want is not to go to jail for fucking your cousin."

  Jason wanted to throw something at his head. "Yes, I want to be with Jet. I'm in love with him. Of course I want to be with him. I am willing to do whatever it takes—I am your son, whatever the details, as you say. You hurt Abraham to get what you wanted, and I'm willing to hurt you and mother to get what I want. We're both bastards, fine. But it doesn't have to end this way."

  Setting down his empty tumbler, Henry finally turned around. "How do you want it to end, then? Please don't tell me you have some fairytale in mind."

  "Fairytale? No. I'm ruthless, not delusional."

  "So what do you want, then?"

  "I want you to act like an adult. Void the contract that keeps Abraham from spending time with me so we don't have to drag this out. Work out a story to tell everyone so that when Jet and I become public knowledge the scandal isn't bigger than it has to be. Stop making Jet the focus of all your anger. Unbend, for once in your life."

  "I did unbend once," Henry said. "I kept my cheating wife and I kept her bastard son—"

  "That wasn't unbending," Jason cut in. "That was using others to get what you wanted and throwing out or ignoring all the parts that bothered you. He didn't deserve to be treated that way and you will not let it continue. I won't let your hatred for Jet continue either. I'm sorry your children haven't turned out the way you wanted. I'm sorry your nephew isn't behaving the way you think he should. But it's not really your right to be mad that we're not what you wanted us to be. If you'd stop being so bitter and vindictive about it, you might bother to appreciate that despite the hostile reception to which they're always treated, Dai and Jet always come home. They could live anywhere in the world, but they came back here, bought homes here, continue to live here. They consider this home, even when it drives them up the wall. Did you ever notice that?" Henry said nothing, mouth pinched. Jason pushed on. "Try being proud of what they are instead of resenting them for what they aren't."

  "Over the top performers of that crap that passes for rock? Half the time they still dress like they're in high school or college. That's assuming, of course, that Jeff is wearing anything at all. He threw away the business his father built for—"

  "He didn't throw it away," Jason said sharply. "He made certain it would be well-cared for and continue to flourish. He made damn sure of that in the negotiations. It wasn't a decision he made carelessly. Jet knows his stuff. The band's success is due to his business acumen as much as to their talent. If you ever bothered to pay attention, you'd know how oft
en they credit you and Uncle Jeff, the way they were raised. So they were selfish, dramatic brats about running away. It's not like they failed miserably and wasted their lives.

  "Everyone in this drama has said and done some really stupid things, but that doesn't mean we can't move past it. Do you really want to keep hiding away in here, sulking like a child because you didn't get what you wanted?"

  "Move past it?" Henry asked bitterly.

  Jason tamped down on his temper, but only barely. "Yes, move past it. You have two sons and a nephew who might want to strangle you, and may not entirely like you right now, but they do still love you. Do you really want to be like your brother? He died still refusing to have anything to do with Jet. They'll never reconcile and Jet has to live with that the rest of his life. Is that really how you want it to end for you, for all of us? Think about it. I've said all I'm going to say. We've been invited to stay at Paradise for two weeks. We leave tonight. You should have plenty of time to figure out what you want to do. Give mother my love when she sobers up."

  He turned and left, feeling drained as he settled behind the wheel of his car. All things considered, he supposed it could have gone worse. Starting the car, he headed toward his house. He could pack and then meet up with Jet.

  When he walked into his house, however, it was to be greeted by a pile of bags in the hallway. Jason wasn't sure he wanted to know what Jet had taken the liberty of packing for him. He headed for his office, absolutely certain he would find Jet there—and was proven correct. Jet lay stretched out on his couch, dressed in nothing but a loose pair of black pajama bottoms, hair in a braid over one shoulder.

  He was also reading one of Jason's earlier books. Jason rolled his eyes. "Why are you reading that?"

  "Because I was never lying when I said I was a fan," Jet said without bothering to look up. Jason expected him to say something more, but Jet simply went back to reading. Rolling his eyes again, Jason went to his desk and began to put things away, finishing up little things so that he did not come back to a complete disaster in two weeks.

  When he finished, Jet was still reading. Jason wasn't certain he should be pleased that Jet was so enthralled, or put out Jet was ignoring him. He settled for being pleased and decided he may as well take advantage of the opportunity to get a bit of writing done.

  A realization struck him: they were going to be on Paradise for two weeks. He could spend entire days doing nothing except Jet and writing. Smiling, Jason settled more comfortably in his chair and began to pick away steadily at the latest chapter of his book.

  The sound of a book snapping shut drew him from his work and he glanced at the clock to see that nearly an hour had passed. He looked up when Jet groaned and enjoyed the view of that body spread out as he stretched, the hair that had come half-undone from its braid. Jason closed his laptop and packed it away in the travel case already set out for him.

  "Dai texted me earlier to say that they'll send a car 'round to take us to the airport," Jet said as he rolled off the couch. He pulled off the band holding his hair and shook it out, combing through it with his fingers. "Guess I should actually get dressed."

  Jason snorted. "Yes, why aren't you dressed? You didn't drive over here looking like that, did you?"

  Grinning, Jet rested his hands lightly on his hips and asked, "What if I did?"

  "You didn't," Jason replied. "No way would you go around town like that and risk the media getting some shots, not with everything that's happened lately."

  Jet laughed. "Be careful how you say that, I might take it as a challenge."

  "Please, don't," Jason said.

  "Yeah, yeah," Jet said playfully. He picked up the book he'd finished reading and returned it to its place on the shelves behind Jason's desk. He ran his fingers over the others before finally pulling out one that was a special collection of a trilogy.

  Jason eyed him. "You are not reading that."

  "Yes, I am," Jet said. "It's my favorite. I would totally leave you for Lex."

  "Oh, shut up," Jason said and stood up to begin grabbing other things to go in his laptop bag. He was halted when Jet grabbed him and pushed him up against the bookshelves. "What are you doing?" Jet kissed him, lapping at his lips before pressing deeper, licking into his mouth and pressing up against him so the shelves bit painfully into Jason's shoulders. When Jet finally drew back, his lips were sore. "What was that about?"

  "Why do you get so twitchy when I read your books?"

  "I get twitchy whenever I see anyone reading them," Jason said. "It's quadruple weird when you do it, though, because you know I'm Jayla. There aren't a whole hell of a lot of others who know, and they're all industry."

  Jet snorted and nuzzled and rubbed against him, making Jason want to pet him. "That just means I enjoy them more."

  "I really didn't see you as being a fan of romance novels," Jason said. "I thought you were always just taunting me."

  Running his knuckles gently along Jason's cheek, Jet said, "I was pretty sure taunting was all I could get away with. Obviously we're both idiots. And of course I'm a fan of romance novels. I'm covered in tattoos of cartoon characters. Do you ever actually listen to our songs?"

  "Yes," Jason said, mouth quirking. "Very carefully, so I can be certain you're not about to get sued."

  "Shut up," Jet said and smacked his chest.

  Jason captured the offending hand, held it fast, and leaned in for a kiss that Jet happily gave, humming in pleasure as he slid his hand free to wrap himself around Jason. Still giving him sharp, biting kisses between words, Jason said, "You need to go get dressed."

  "You need to tell me how things went with Uncle Henry," Jet said.

  "Nicely done," Jason muttered then bit at his lip in revenge. "It went about as expected. I guess we'll see how it really went when we get back, since I gave him until then to think about it and decide what he wanted to do. I don't think he'll fight me on Abraham. He must know that's a fight he won't win. As to the rest …"

  Jet settled against his chest. "I hope for your sake he decides to grow up. He's a dumbass if he doesn't, because you're about the only one with faith in him still."

  "Family is family, and in the end, I'm no better than him," Jason said. "I'd be arrogant and delusional in the extreme to believe anything different."

  "You're completely different."

  Jason slid his fingers into Jet's hair, angled his head, and bent to take a long, thorough kiss that didn't end until his lungs burned. "Not really, but thanks. Now, go get dressed. We don't have time for everything I want to try to do to you, even though you completely wore me out earlier."

  "I'm pretty sure you're the one who wore me out," Jet said. "You weren't lying about liking—"

  Jason cut him off with a hasty kiss, ignoring the laugh that got him, the fingers that pulled teasingly at his hair. Breaking the kiss, he pushed Jet away. "Go get dressed."

  "Yeah, yeah," Jet said with a grin and picked up his abandoned book. "Put that in my bag. I mean it. If you try to leave it here there will be consequences."

  "Consequences?" Jason asked, because that wasn't necessarily a threat.

  Jet smirked. "I have the audio book."

  Jason made a face. "Fine."

  Laughing, Jet vanished to get dressed. Jason had just shoved the damned book into Jet's carry on when someone knocked on the front door. Opening it, he greeted the two men standing there. "Good evening."

  "Good evening, Mr. Kristopherson," one the men said. "Get the bags for you?"

  "Thank you," Jason said and left them to it while he went around the house to lock it down and leave a note for his housekeeper since he was an idiot and had forgotten to call her. When he was certain it was all locked tight, he shut off all the lights and shrugged into a brown leather jacket and waited on the porch for Jet.

  He had a hard time not staring when Jet came outside a few minutes later. "Do you ever not look hopelessly distracting?" he asked, unable not to slide a hand along the slinky, clingy material
of Jet's shimmering black shirt, barely resisting an urge to do a great deal more. He settled for dropping a quick kiss on his mouth and tousling the long hair. Pulling away, he locked the front door and led the way to the car, smiling when Jet's hand slid into his and tangled their fingers together.

  Fin

  About the Author

  Megan is a long time resident of m/m fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she's not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her cats, or watch movies (especially all things James Bond). She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all around the internet.

  maderr.com

  maderr.tumblr.com

  maderr.livejournal.com

  lessthanthreepress.com

  @amasour

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