“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.” I half expected the kid to whip out a pocket notebook and take notes.
Seth practically tripped over his own feet trying to get away. Maybe Trevor was right, maybe I needed a bark collar, because it was going to be a long year if Seth was terrified to be in the same room as me.
“Now, where were we?” Trevor cooed, wrapping his arms around my middle.
I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. “Maybe we should finish unpacking. We’ll revisit this later when there’s less chance of interruptions.”
I fell back on my bed, amazed by the fact I’d been cockblocked by a kid who looked like he was still waiting for puberty to hit. So far, college life sucked ass.
4
Trevor
I was proud of Gabe. He was doing his best to not snarl at the constant stream of people in and out of our suite. Between Seth’s lost puppy dog routine and the fact it seemed like one of the guys on the other side of our suite—Ayden, I think his name was—knew half the student population, there hadn’t been much peace and quiet. Heck, he’d even relented last night and gone down to the welcome party for a while, even though he’d been pushing to stay back because the suite would be empty and we’d be uninterrupted, finally. But I wanted to get to know the guys who were going to be our neighbors, so he’d humored me.
The full college experience mattered to me, and it’d also be easier to calm my mom’s nerves if I could assure her I was trying to be a bit more social now that I was away from home. I’d never quite qualified as the weird loner at school, only because Gabe made it clear to everyone that he and I were a package deal. I suppose that was meant to make me feel included, but in some ways, it made me feel even more pathetic. Like I was so lame I couldn’t make friends of my own and Gabe took pity on me. I’d promised Mom and Dad I’d make my own way this year, that I wouldn’t fall into the security of letting Gabe make all the friends for us. And I wanted that. Needed to be my own man with my own life.
But how could I do that without Gabe thinking I was trying to push him away? All he’d been able to talk about this summer was how amazing it’d be to get to Wilmington so we could be together without worrying who knew we were together, but that didn’t fit with my plans. I wanted to be with him, but not all the time.
Like today. He wanted to hit the beach, but there was too much left to get done in the three days before classes started. “Come on, Trev,” he whined, flicking the back of my head so I’d quit ignoring him. “We can go to the bookstore later. I wanna get down to the beach before it’s crowded.”
“We’re supposed to head down there tonight, anyway,” I argued. Tonight was a beach party for all the students. Each residence hall had activities planned for their residents, then the rest of the time was a big mixer. No way was I game for the beach twice in one day. Going now meant napping the afternoon away, and then I’d hate myself tonight for not getting anything done.
“Seriously? I thought we were going to stay in tonight,” he complained. I’d promised him we wouldn’t do every organized activity the school had planned for welcome weekend, but this sounded fun. He loved the beach. I loved the beach. And it was a chill way to unwind and have a little fun.
“We don’t have to stay until the end,” I promised him.
Someday, you’re going to meet the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, Mom liked to tell me. When that happens, the first lesson you need to learn is you’ll never be truly happy unless you both learn to compromise. My parents had been married twenty-six years, so there had to be some truth to her wisdom.
“Let’s go, have fun for a bit, and when we get back, you can help me wash off the salt and sand I’m sure will be everywhere.”
“Promise?” Gabe sounded like a little kid angling for the toy he’d been coveting. “If you’re serious that we don’t have to stay the whole time, fine. We’ll do this your way.”
“Thank you.” I stood and kissed him softly before retreating to the bathroom, now that it was empty. I wasn’t sure who, but one of the guys from the other side of the suite seriously needed to learn that you couldn’t hog the can for an hour when you shared that toilet with seven other men.
The bookstore wound up testing my patience, both with the archaic process and with Gabe. The longer we stood there, the more restless he became. The more restless, the more he felt the need to point out he’d told me it was going to be a madhouse today and we should’ve come later. A haggard-looking store clerk opened another line seconds before we started sniping at one another in the middle of the store.
We handed the clerk our schedules and she wrote down where to find everything. She noticed Gabe’s impatience and retreated when he groaned about how this was taking forever. “Next semester, I recommend ordering online. That way, you can go to that line over there and they’ll have everything ready for you to pick up. It’s much easier.”
“Thanks, good time to find out we could’ve done that,” Gabe grumbled.
“Gabe. Chill,” I hissed under my breath. “Let’s get our books and then I promise we’ll go find you some caffeine.”
“Coffee can’t fix everything. I’m all peopled out. I want to go back to the room, turn out the lights, and forget there’s a world past our bedroom door.” He must’ve been in rough shape if he wasn’t pushing me to head to the beach. He was always at peace surrounded by the water.
“Soon. Promise.” Rather than the space I typically put between us, I inched closer until our shoulders brushed together as we walked. I wasn’t stupid; Gabe was just as frustrated as I was, but for different reasons. He wasn’t a patient man in any situation, and I’d been opening up to him at a glacial pace.
“You’re making an awful lot of promises today.” He chewed on his bottom lip, the unasked question clear in his narrowed eyes. The glimmer of hope that I wasn’t going to keep checking the brakes.
“And I intend to keep every one of them.” Gabe reached for my hand, practically pulling me through the rest of the store.
If I’d come alone, I would’ve browsed a bit to find some gear and trinkets to send back to Mom with our school colors, but I was pretty sure Gabe would have a coronary and drop to the ground if I deviated from the textbooks section. I hurried to get everything both of us needed for our classes and headed to the cashier. Gabe protested when I said I’d pay for everything, but calmed a bit when I promised he could give me cash later. Our books were all jumbled together and I was trying to get him out of the store quickly.
There was one more task I wanted to complete before we headed back to the dorm. This one, I was pretty sure Gabe wouldn’t complain about too loudly. I’d searched online last night and found a few thrift stores close to campus.
“What’re we doing here?” Gabe asked as I pulled into the parking lot of the first one. This was one Chris had confirmed was awesome for students trying to pick up furniture for the dorms. They worked with the university to host donation drives at the end of every school year, then cleaned the furniture and set it out when the new students moved in.
“Trying to make you a little less grumpy,” I told him as I pulled the keys out of the ignition. “The sooner we find a chair or something for the room, the sooner we can start having movie time.”
“You do realize, from this point forward, movie time is going to be a euphemism for sex, and that’s gonna be hella awkward when we go home for breaks and Dad asks if we want to hang out in the den and watch movies.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” I deadpanned. “Come on. The sooner we find a chair big enough for both of us, the sooner we can get home and test it out.”
Those were apparently the magic words, because Gabe raced to the door and was already halfway through the store by the time I walked inside. I shook my head and laughed, following at a languid pace, just to mess with his head. Along the way, I stopped to look at a set of storage containers that’d be good for reheating leftovers in our kitchenette, grabbe
d a few knickknacks that’d serve as a constant reminder of the beginning of our real relationship, and started browsing the racks of T-shirts to see if there were any I absolutely needed to add to my collection.
“Trev, hurry up!” Gabe yelled across the store, earning him a few startled looks and a couple of glares from other shoppers. I nearly hollered back but then remembered we were adults in public and acted like it. I ambled back to the furniture section, still playing it casual. Gabe was spread across an oversized chair, scrunching his nose when he took a whiff of the upholstery. “It’s gonna need some spray, but I think it’ll work.”
The chair was ugly as sin. Burnt orange with what I really hoped where soda stains all over. If this had been cleaned before being put on the sales floor, I didn’t want to know the condition it was donated in. “Gabe, it’s hideous.”
“We’ll order a slipcover for it,” he suggested. Like it or not, the chair was going home with us. “A bit of Febreze and a cover, it’ll be perfect for movie nights. Come on, try it out with me.”
“I’m not cuddling with you in the middle of the store, you idiot.”
“Why? Too good to snuggle?”
“In public, yeah. Just because we’re away from home doesn’t mean we need to put on a show wherever we go.”
“Hey, you’re a poet.” Gabe chuckled, mistaking himself for a comedian.
“Let’s go, Joker.”
“Man, you keep calling me names. Keep that up and I might start thinking you don’t love me anymore.”
“You’re assuming I loved you to begin with,” I teased, doubling over when he stuck out his bottom lip and acted all sad. I knew he was playing around, but those three words had been off-limits before, and the first time either of us put a name to what we felt for one another, I didn’t want it to be a joke in the middle of a thrift store. I pulled him out of the chair and yanked the tag off the arm. “You’d better hope that thing fits in the back of the Jeep. And we will be covering it with a blanket until we find something better.”
“Trev, we’re college students. I think it’s a rite of passage that we’re supposed to have shitty, ugly furniture. Years from now, we’ll look back at the pictures of our first dorm and it’ll be a mark of pride to see how far we’ve come.”
“Awww, you’re getting all sentimental. Better be careful or people are going to start saying you have a heart.” Gabe elbowed me in the ribs, jostling me into a little old lady with her shopping cart. I reached for her elbow before she could fall over. I tried to apologize, but she was already storming off, well, as much as little old ladies with canes hanging off the edge of their shopping cart could, muttering something about damn kids having no respect for their elders. “Great, you know we’re going to run into her when our parents are down for a visit and she’ll tell my mom what a disrespectful twit I am.”
“Trev, for some reason, I don’t think she runs in the campus circles.” We waited our turn in the checkout line. Gabe stilled my hand when I reached for my wallet. “You grabbed all my textbooks for the semester, I think I can handle the smelly chair. Take it off what I owe you.”
“Deal.” I loaded the rest of the stuff I’d picked out onto the conveyor and told Gabe I was going to bring the Jeep up front. It only took a quick look in the back to realize we’d made a huge mistake buying the chair. There was no way it was going to fit, even with the seats folded down.
Gabe bounded out of the store with my bounty in one hand and a huge grin on his face. “Good news. They’re used to stupid college kids and offered to deliver the chair this afternoon. I told him I’d give the driver a twenty if he can get it there within the hour.”
“That’s mighty generous of you.” He may not think ahead often, but it seemed he was more prepared for this shopping trip than I was. He had to have figured anything we bought would have to be delivered.
“Nah, I just have a good reason to want that chair in our room and set up. Someone promised me cuddle time this afternoon.”
“Uh, pretty sure that’s not what I said,” I argued, though there was no strength to my protest.
“If you’re expecting me to be civil to people tonight, I’m going to take a nap this afternoon. And that chair won’t be any worse than the bed.”
“Still failing to see what this has to do with me,” I quipped as Gabe got behind the wheel. Dad freaked when he found out Gabe drove the Jeep more often than I did, but that didn’t stop me from preferring the passenger seat. I drove when we were likely to hit traffic, only because I was more patient than Gabe, but I preferred riding shotgun most of the time. That way, I could get lost in my thoughts without accidentally plowing into a pack of pedestrians or something.
Gabe placed his hand over my knee and slid his fingers up my thigh. This new, more affectionate version of Gabe wouldn’t take much to get used to. I’d often wondered if he’d be as restrained once we moved out. Turns out, he had absolutely no problems showing—and telling—me how much he wanted me. Last night, we’d lay in bed doing nothing other than cuddling while we talked about our plans for this semester.
I’d expected him to want more, but I think we were both wiped out from the long day and savoring the fact that we could lay tangled up in one another’s arms without having to listen for Mom or DeeDee coming to check on us. It was entirely possible all our sneaking around was for nothing and they at least suspected there was something more going on between us than friendship. How could they not realize it when every day became a bit harder to keep our hands to ourselves? Had they not mentioned it to us because they didn’t want to put ideas in our heads? Would they be disappointed when they found out we’d been lying to them for the past year? Would they think it was unnatural?
Neither set of parents had ever tried to fill our heads with hateful ideas about homosexuality, but that didn’t mean they were accepting, either. My own mom was very much the type who kept her thoughts to herself if she felt they were uncharitable. And even if they were cool with people being gay in theory, that was much different than finding out your son is gay and shacking up with someone you view as a son. They’d always joked how we were more like brothers than friends, which made it that much harder for me to fully embrace how I felt about Gabe.
“You’re doing that thinking thing again,” Gabe pointed out when he pulled up to a red light. He gave my knee a gentle squeeze and I offered him a weak smile. “You’re going to give yourself an ulcer. Just close your eyes and try to not think about anything until we get back to the dorm.”
“Okay.” I took his suggestion and quickly drifted off, waking up to Gabe gently shaking me. We walked from the parking lot to the dorms close, but not quite holding hands. I wondered if we’d eventually reach the point where it felt natural to lace our fingers together the way other couples did.
Following a nap in the cramped bed because the delivery guy couldn’t make it out until late afternoon, we headed down to Wrightsville Beach. I wasn’t fully prepared for how many people would be there. Being the more introverted of the two of us, it didn’t take long before I grew overwhelmed and suggested we head back to the dorms. It shocked me when Gabe asked if we could stay a bit longer before disappearing into the sea of coeds. By the time I found him, he’d found his people. It didn’t take a genius to realize the guys he was chatting up were athletes, with their proudly displayed abs and backwards baseball caps. Gabe stilled, turned to me, and he grinned broadly as he waved me over. In the middle of the pack, I saw a friendly face.
“Trev, you remember Chris from move-in, right?” I nodded, awkwardly reaching out to shake his hand. “He was telling me about the intramural softball league, trying to get me to join.”
“You should,” I encouraged him. He’d dreamed of getting a baseball scholarship, but that hadn’t panned out. It sometimes concerned me that he’d pretty much hung up his glove following his last high school game.
“Nah, like I told him, I need to keep my distractions to a minimum until I know how my classes a
re gonna go.” His tone was flat and I knew he was parroting the words his dad had preached at him. Joel was a great guy, but he was insistent that a college degree was a necessity if you wanted to get anywhere in life. “Maybe in the spring, once things settle down a bit.”
I shrugged because there was nothing else to say. If he played, I’d be in the stands as often as possible, just as I had been throughout middle and high school.
“Hey, we’re heading over to the bonfire. You guys coming?” Chris asked. I looked to Gabe and he nodded. It was like a case of body snatchers; him wanting to stay and me wishing he knew how badly I wanted to head back to our room. “You don’t have to if you don’t want, but it’s gonna be fun.”
Fun, it turned out, was a bit of an overstatement. The bonfire turned out to be students passing flasks to spike their drinks as they talked about all the parties they’d heard about for the weekend. Definitely not my scene.
The only upside was Gabe and I laid out a blanket near the edge of the circle. I was testing the waters, because eventually I’d have to find the balls to come out. Both of us leaned back, and I inched my hand towards Gabe’s behind us until our pinkies touched. His eyes shone in the firelight when he looked at me, but it was more than that. He let out a contented sigh and I realized these small changes might be enough for now.
A while later, I leaned closer to him. “You about ready to get out of here? I think we could have a much better time back in our room.”
“Yeah?” He wiggled around on the blanket, drawing my attention to the bulge in his shorts. No questions about where he was hoping tonight would go. I wanted that, even if I couldn’t come out and say it.
For a moment, I closed my eyes and leaned in, wanting to feel the stubble of his jaw abrading my skin as we kissed. Someone cleared their throat behind us and I shot back. The lust in Gabe’s gaze was briefly replaced by disappointment that I couldn’t let myself just be with him.
Inseparable (Port Java Book 1) Page 3
