Trust the Focus

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Trust the Focus Page 11

by Megan Erickson


  “I don’t think I have a favorite memory,” I said. “There are too many.”

  Another kiss from Landry, this time his lips on my forehead.

  I continued my circles in the dirt. “I think what I miss most is knowing I was loved. No matter what I did, who I was, I knew there was someone on earth who loved me unconditionally.” I squeezed my eyes shut as they filled, then jerked my head up, Landry’s falling to the side. I hurled the stick into the river and swiped under my eyes. “Fuck. I miss him, Lan.”

  When I had myself under control, I turned to look at him. His eyes were wet too, but he didn’t bother hiding it. “You’re still loved, Justin.”

  I should have said it then. I should have told Landry I loved him, but instead I closed my eyes and I kissed him, the wetness of our tears forming a seal between our lips.

  ***

  We grabbed lunch at a fast food joint, eating in a yellow plastic booth and trying to keep our elbows off the sticky table.

  Landry swirled his straw, rattling the ice in his soda. “So, I had an idea.”

  I pointed a fry at him. “Last time you had an idea, I got pelted with water by tiny humans.”

  He smirked. “Baby.”

  “Just tell me your idea so I can pretend to fight it when we know I’m going to eventually give in.”

  “Is that just because we make out now?”

  My first instinct was to glance around the restaurant. “Landry, keep your voice down.”

  He looked irritated. “Calm down, it’s deserted in here.”

  “To answer your question, no, that’s not the reason. I can’t say no to you whether we make out or not.”

  His face softened. “That’s a lot of power.”

  “Out with it.”

  He squirmed in his seat and smiled. “Okay, okay. As much as I love Sally and that amazing sofa bed that is the size of a crib mattress and lumpy as hell, I thought we could take a break from her. I thought hotel but then I got a little crazy searching online. I found this really awesome bed-and-breakfast.” He whipped out his phone and I half thought he’d have a PowerPoint presentation to show me.

  He handed me his phone and I had to admit, the place looked pretty cool. “Sally’s B&B.” I laughed. “Shit, we do have to stay here, huh?”

  When I looked up, Lan was beaming. “What do you say?”

  “Is it expensive?”

  He shrugged. “Not too bad. And breakfast is included the next day. Full spread.”

  “Okay, do we need to call to check vacancy?”

  Landry didn’t skip a beat. “Already called. She said she’d hold our room until four with no deposit.”

  “When the hell did you call without me hearing you?”

  “When you showered.”

  “You’re sneaky.”

  “No, I just want a real bed.”

  I stuck my lower lip out. “Poor Sally.”

  “I think she understands her limitations.”

  I checked my watch. “It’s two now, so how far away is this place?”

  Landry practically bounced in his seat. “A real bed! And shower!”

  “Focus, Lan.”

  “Oh, right. Um, only like forty-five minutes.”

  I wiped my mouth with my napkin and stretched in my seat. Then I grabbed my tray and shot Landry a wink. “Then let’s get going.”

  ***

  When I thought of B and B’s, I thought of candles in the windows and bowls of potpourri sitting on lace doilies and pink paisley curtains and rooms that smelled like old ladies.

  But Sally’s B&B sat deep in the woods, a log cabin with several chimneys and the smell of campfire in the air. I liked it already. Lan and I packed a duffle each with our bathroom kits and some clothes and headed in the front door.

  Our shoes thunked on the knotted hardwood floor and a tall, older woman with short blond hair waved to us from behind a desk.

  And that’s when my stomach rolled because this all felt so homey, so coupley to me. Landry and I were at a bed-and-breakfast, getting a room together. Two men. In Wisconsin. I fidgeted with the straps of my bag and regretted this whole idea.

  The woman behind the desk stood up and extended a pale hand to me. “Are you Mr. Jacobs?”

  I shook my head and gestured to Landry beside me. “No, he is.” I cleared my throat because my voice was deeper than normal. “We’re friends.”

  I felt like my brain was detached from my body and I was watching this whole scene unfold from a camera in the ceiling. Instead of seeing Landry’s eyes, I could feel them boring into the side of my head.

  Uncertainty passed over the woman’s face, and then she smiled again, but this one was forced, like she was humoring me. “Okay,” she said and turned to Landry. “Hi, Mr. Jacobs, I’m Sally. Thanks for staying with us. With your friend.” She nodded to me, and Landry shot another glare in my direction.

  She sat back down in her seat. “We’ll just get you checked in, then. One night, correct?”

  “Yes,” Landry said.

  “Okay, so one night. We’ll put you in the Robin room. It has its own full bath and one king bed, is that all right?”

  One bed, one bed, one bed, echoed through my head. There were the sounds of footsteps upstairs and I could hear voices in the kitchen, and oh my God, they’d know. They’d all know Landry and I slept in the same bed.

  I couldn’t do this.

  “Um, did you say one bed?”

  “Yes, she did, Justin.” Landry’s voice was tight, a warning to me I didn’t heed because I wanted to throw up.

  “Is there a sofa or something we can pull out for another bed? Or a cot?”

  Confusion flashed over the woman’s face and she glanced at Landry before turning to me. I didn’t look at Landry. Because if I did, he might hit me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “All our rooms only have one bed.”

  “Do you have another room?” I blurted out. And risked a glance at Landry out of the corner of my eye. His face had gone completely pale.

  “I—” She looked at Landry again. Look at me, lady. “I’m sorry, we only have one vacancy, I—”

  “It’ll be fine,” Landry said, cutting her off. “He can sleep on the floor.”

  He slapped down his credit card and grabbed the key off the desk. “Which way to the Platonic Friends suite?”

  ***

  I walked behind him with my head down, still aware of every voice, every eye, every greeting on the way to our room.

  And I knew I’d made a huge mistake.

  That fact was even more apparent once we reached our room. Landry opened up the door, ushered me in with a glare, and then slammed the door behind him.

  “Lan—”

  “Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth, the one word like a slab of ice in my heart. He whirled around to face me and backed into the bathroom. His eyes wild and red. “Giving me those eyes and your ‘Lan’ is not even close to being enough to apologize for whatever the fuck that was downstairs.”

  He tossed his bag on the bed, walked in the bathroom, and slammed the door.

  I sat on the bed and dropped my head into my hands. I didn’t know what that was down there, either. Temporary insanity? Panic attack? In the privacy of our room, my muddied head settled and I knew I had completely overreacted. Two travelers sharing a bed wasn’t a big deal. Hell, we did it sometimes when I traveled with the baseball team in college.

  The root of the issue was that I didn’t want her to think we were together together. But why? What was I so scared of? I doubted Landry and I were going to get gay-bashed in a bed-and-breakfast, no matter what the state.

  The shower turned on, and I gripped my hair and pulled. At least he hadn’t escaped out a window and left me.

  How many times could I fuck up before he left?
Before he realized he deserved better than me, a guy who couldn’t even acknowledge that Landry was my boyfriend to a harmless stranger?

  I didn’t want to know when his patience would run out.

  Landry emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He didn’t look angry anymore. His shoulders were slumped and his arms hung loose. He looked . . . disappointed.

  I didn’t want to know how I looked.

  He rummaged in his bag, his back to me.

  “Can I talk, Landry?”

  He didn’t answer and I figured that if he wasn’t stopping me, I could go on. “I’m sorry. And I know you’re sick of me saying I’m sorry but this is fucking new for me, all right? I don’t know what to say in public. I don’t know how to act. I just . . . I don’t know what to do.”

  He pulled on a pair of shorts and then flung his damp towel over the desk chair. “You want pizza for dinner?”

  Dinner? He was asking me about dinner? No, I didn’t fucking want pizza. My stomach lurched in protest of swallowing anything. “Landry, can we talk about this?”

  He faced me. “Honestly, Justin? I’m tired of talking.” He put a knee to the bed and then twisted to drop on his back, an arm over his eyes.

  I clenched and unclenched my hands, staring at his bare chest, rising with his breaths. Before he knew what I was about, I crawled over top of him, caging him in with my knees at his hips and my hands at his shoulders. He didn’t remove arm from over his eyes. “Justin—”

  I didn’t give him a chance to say stop or don’t or get off me. I bent and pressed my lips to his. He didn’t kiss back but I kept at it, licking the seams of his lips and nuzzling my nose into his until he opened his mouth with a sigh and let me in. His hands gripped my neck and I lowered myself on top of him.

  I pulled back and braced myself on my elbows so I could see his face. His eyes drooped but still had a wariness about them, lines crinkling the corners.

  I touched the curls at his temple with my right hand. “I panicked. I have no excuse.”

  He sighed. “It was a complete overreaction.”

  “I know.”

  “These are king-size beds. It doesn’t matter if we’re gay or straight, we would have shared a bed and I guarantee she didn’t think twice about it.”

  “I know.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Just because I kissed you doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.”

  “Shit, I hoped my mouth had magical forgiveness powers.”

  Landry pressed his lips together as a grin tugged at the corner.

  “I screwed up, but give me another shot.” I wracked my brain to think of when I’d have a chance to make this up to him. “Oh! Look, we’re visiting Tomás, and I’ll tell him, okay?” God, I hoped I could do it. But I had to. I had to prove to Landry I could be out. For him. With him.

  Landry didn’t look impressed. “Okay.”

  “Okay? That’s all?”

  A weak shrug. “I’ll believe it when you don’t spaz and actually follow through.”

  “That’s a dare, Landry.”

  Another suppressed smile. “I know.”

  I might have been a coward about coming clean about my sexuality but I wasn’t a coward when it came to dares. I streaked through our college town drunk my junior year because Tomás dared me to. I remember Landry doubled over in laughter when I returned. “I take dares. Even if it involves getting naked.”

  Now a real grin spread across Landry’s face and he winked. “You think I don’t remember that? God, I jacked off for the next month picturing you.”

  I collapsed back onto his chest as we both erupted in a fit of laughter. “It was cold as shit.” I laughed into his neck. “I hope you didn’t judge little Jus on that night’s appearance.”

  Landry squeezed my ass. “Nah, I was looking at this.”

  I laughed harder, then rolled off of him to lay on my side. He rolled with me and we kissed lazily. I pressed him tight against me, savoring the quiet moment I never thought I’d have in my life. I ran my fingers down the veins in his forearms and kissed his Adam’s apple and rubbed against his stubble like a cat.

  Eventually I buried my face into his neck while he rubbed my back through my shirt. His stomach growled and I laughed. “You want pizza?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, no, I don’t want pizza at all. I want a burger with bacon and a lot of cheese. And cheese fries. And fried cheese. I mean, we’re in Wisconsin, right?”

  “Mmm . . . cheese.” I hummed against his skin and he shoved me off. “Quit. That tickles.”

  I smacked his stomach. “Then get dressed and let’s go.”

  Chapter Eleven

  We asked Sally—the blonde who checked us in—for a restaurant with good burgers and she directed us to a place about fifteen minutes away.

  It was loud but the burgers were fantastic and the beer was cold and I ate way too much. The seasoned waitress flirted with Landry, and he flirted back and the whole exchange made me laugh.

  I didn’t hold Landry’s hand or kiss him or anything, but I didn’t worry about how close we held our heads while talking or the distance between our bodies. I did what felt right. And while part of me was nervous as hell, the part that won was the part that wanted to please Landry.

  ***

  When we got back to the B and B, Landry turned on a movie, but all I could think about was the giant whirlpool tub I’d caught a glimpse of before we left for dinner.

  In the bathroom, I started the hot water. Then I rummaged in a basket on the counter and sniffed a couple of bottles. I found a bubble bath that didn’t smell too much like a woman’s perfume and dumped the whole bottle into the swirling water. Once the tub was full, which I waited quite impatiently for, I stripped, turned on the jets, and submerged my body with a moan.

  Driving for hours every day was taking a toll on my back, arms, and ass. I strained my left rotator cuff junior year and it had never fully recovered. The familiar tightness and ache had started creeping into my neck the last couple of days. I scooted my shoulder in front of a jet and let hot water blast away the soreness. I closed my eyes and laid my head back.

  I heard footsteps and the rustling of clothes. I opened my eyes blearily and rolled my head to the side. Landry stood beside the tub, pulling off his shirt. He toed off his shoes and socks and then dropped his pants.

  He stepped into the tub naked across from me and nodded toward my shoulder. “Sore?”

  I nodded and he pushed himself over to me. “Lean forward.”

  I almost told him no. I’d told him no for about four years whenever he offered to massage my shoulder like he had sometimes in high school. I couldn’t take it anymore, trying to hide my attraction. The last time he’d massaged my shoulder was senior year in high school. I’d gotten so hard I had to run to the showers and jerk off.

  But I didn’t have to do that anymore. Landry could put his hands on me. I didn’t have to hide anything. The thought eased the constant tightness in my chest, and my limbs went to jelly. Somehow, I managed to do as I was told, and Landry scooted behind me, straddling my hips. I rested my hands on his thighs and leaned back against his chest. When his fingers pressed against my shoulder and began kneading the muscles, I closed my eyes. He began to sing softly, a song I didn’t recognize but it matched the rhythm of his fingers and I never wanted this moment to end.

  Landry’s mom was a physical therapist and masseuse. She usually checked my shoulder for me after games, sometimes massaging it if I was extra sore. She’d taught Landry some techniques so he knew what he was doing.

  But now it was his fingers on me, his strength pushing its way into my muscles, and I wondered if he’d turned into some kind of magical muscle-strength injector. I felt like I could pitch a doubleheader.

  Landry pushed a button to turn off the jets and spoke quietly as he continu
ed to massage my upper back. “Now I know why you wouldn’t let me do this in college.”

  I rolled my head to side and purred when he hit a sore spot.

  He laughed and kissed the side of my neck. I let my head drop the other way as he switched sides. “This feels so fucking good. Marry me.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying. My eyes popped open and Landry’s hands stuttered. He must have felt the tenseness in my muscles because he pushed on my back. “Relax, I’m not going to hold you to it. Illegal in Wisconsin anyway.”

  “You’d only marry me for my money.”

  “Damn straight. You cheat on me and I’ll divorce you, take all your money, and leave you with Sally.”

  “I’d have to live out of the RV?”

  “Not that Sally. I’m talking about the stuffed horse.”

  I laughed and turned around, tugging on Landry’s waist so he’d straddle me.

  His mouth lifted into a sexy grin and he swiftly slid out from behind me and brought his knees down on either side of my hips. He bent his head and kissed my left shoulder. “How’s it feel?”

  “Amazing.”

  His tongue curled on his upper teeth. “That’s because I have talented fingers.”

  Landry’s hands rested on the lip of the tub. I tugged on his right wrist so he let go and brought it between us. Then I threaded my fingers through his and twisted our hands, loving the look of our alternating fingers.

  I’d never thought much about holding hands, my indifferent attitude leading to never bothering to do it with girls. But Landry and I—our hands fit, palm to palm, fingers in grooved knuckles.

  I kissed our thumbs and then dropped our hands into the water. But I didn’t let go. “Never thought I’d be here. With you. Like this.”

  Landry shifted closer so I could feel his hardness on my stomach. I leaned my head back and looked up as he curled over me. “You really planned to keep this all a secret?”

  Yes. No. I don’t know. I had been so focused on the campaign and my job, I hadn’t thought about what it meant for me and my personal life. “I think I underestimated how hard it would be. How much harder it had been trying to keep this all a secret.”

 

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