by Susan Laine
Worst of all, Adam’s perception of Evan had changed too.
Where his best friend had been now stood a self-confident, strong, smiling, sensual guy Adam had never seen before. Mixing friendship with notions like sensuality only served to fuck with Adam’s mind more. Viewing his friend in a new light, one usually reserved for hot chicks, should have turned his stomach. But it didn’t. Instead, it churned up… other emotions and feelings Adam was ill-prepared to face.
“I’m so screwed,” he mumbled, falling onto his back on his king-size bed.
“THAT FEELS so good,” Shelley breathed in Adam’s ear as Adam necked with her in the backseat of his red Ford Mustang V8. The red-and-black leather of the bucket seats creaked as she gyrated on it, obviously aroused, and moaned in a slightly nasal, high-pitched voice.
Adam grimaced at the noise, thinking he’d go deaf before the evening ended. He saw the end coming since it was beyond clear that he wouldn’t be. He was half-hard, but his condition wasn’t thanks to the girl in his arms. His imagination provided wanton images of Avery and Elijah going at it hot and heavy in the backseat of a car. He couldn’t make it stop. Basically he relived the most recent sex scene he’d read.
The date had gone downhill from the first hello. Shit. Fuck. Piss. Damn. Adam knew he had to end things before he made a complete fool of himself. So he resorted to the age-old fake phone call trick and dexterously activated his cell phone in his pocket by tapping on where he knew the app icon was located. Soon, while Adam’s hands were innocently gripping Shelley, his iPhone started ringing.
“Sorry,” he mumbled apologetically at her pouting expression. He answered the “call” and talked to his “mom,” agreeing to come home right away.
Adam dropped Shelley off, then drove home and pulled into the garage. He leaned back, focusing on nothing but breathing for good long minutes. Naturally he wasn’t in any hurry because he knew his mother wasn’t at home. She rarely was. Sometimes Adam felt like he was either orphaned or emancipated.
Did he miss having parents who were always there for their child? Not really, thanks to his best friend’s family. Evan’s parents had taken to him from the start and looked out for him the way real parents did, feeding him, getting him to school on time, and ensuring he was secure in his house by himself. Sometimes they demanded Adam sleep in the guestroom or on the couch in Evan’s room when his mom was gone for days at a time.
Adam was more a part of their family than his own.
That was why Adam couldn’t afford to lose Evan. Not in any sense. Then he’d really be all alone. That’d kill him.
But… he couldn’t kiss another girl who barely lit a spark in him, let alone revved his engine. Why, oh why did he have to read those stupid romance books? Goddammit. But they were Evan’s creations. Of course he had to read them. How could he not?
What the frickin’ frack am I supposed to do now?
He slumped on the comfortable seat, not sure if he felt despondent or elated. It had to be one or the other. Surely a revelation about one’s own existence merited more than mere indifference, right? Perhaps it wasn’t news. Maybe he was just getting with the program of what his body had wanted all along. Clearly Shelley wasn’t it.
But that didn’t mean some other girl couldn’t do it for Adam. Not responding to Shelley didn’t make him gay or bi or… whatever. Getting a hard-on from reading erotica could do that to anyone, right? It was a physical reaction. Sometimes it just happened for no reason, especially to teenagers.
Whatever was going on inside him, Adam couldn’t not see Evan. Evan was his best friend. His company was as natural as breathing or his heart beating. Adam couldn’t imagine a reality where he had no Evan.
Distracted by his thoughts, Adam was oblivious to the world around him until a voice sounded from the still-open garage door.
“Hey.”
Adam jumped, swiveled around on his seat to see who’d spoken, and then practically hopped out of the car in a flash. “Hey.” Did his voice crack? Shit.
Evan came closer, hands stuffed in his pockets, appearing anxious. “Saw you drive up.” Evan could see Adam’s driveway from the corner window of his bedroom. “So, uh… how’d the date go?”
Adam leaned against the car door, going for a casual, collected, and disinterested look. He shrugged. “Fine.”
“Good. Good.” Evan’s gaze wandered around the room as Adam checked his friend out from the corner of his eye. “Your dates rarely end this early.”
Irrational anger boiled up in Adam. “Just what the hell are you suggesting? That I’m some dickhead who can’t get it up?”
Evan’s eyes widened, and his mouth gaped. “What? Whoa. Back up. I’d never say anything like that. You know that.”
Remorse washed over Adam’s flaring temper and cooled him off. “Sorry. I guess I’m just….” He let out a sigh and slumped, staring at the concrete floor of the garage as if it were the most fascinating thing in the universe. “The truth is, the date… wasn’t good. Shelley’s nice but… not for me.” Well, that was at least part of the truth, Adam thought glumly.
Evan smiled sympathetically. “It’s okay. Not everyone is right for everybody. The right girl will come along. Besides, we’re only seventeen. There’s no rush. It’s not like either of us will be getting hitched to the first girl we hit it off with.”
Everything Evan said sounded logical and reasonable. But Adam only noticed the one thing Evan left unsaid: “Or first guy you hit it off with.”
Evan blushed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. Adam crossed his arms over his chest in self-defense, uneasy about what Evan might have on his mind.
“Speaking of which…,” Adam continued with a drawl before Evan could say whatever he was thinking. “You said you think you’re bi. But how do you know what you are? By your own admission, you haven’t done anything with anyone.”
Evan frowned, appearing pensive. “I think both guys and girls are beautiful.”
Adam harrumphed, dissatisfied with the reply. “Beauty doesn’t equal sexual attraction, and you know that. We can find lots of things beautiful, but that doesn’t mean we want to fuck them. You know that too.”
Evan frowned at Adam’s vulgar wording. Adam knew his friend’s mind well enough to anticipate that.
“Why are you so stuck on labels?” Evan asked. “Can’t you give me time to work things out on my own?” Evan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Unless… you want to know so that you can prepare for a public backlash, or you think that my sexual orientation, whatever it may be, will somehow reflect negatively on you.”
Adam growled, getting pissed off. Why the fuck did he have to defend himself? It was Evan who’d fucked things up by messing with Adam’s head.
Evan frowned harder at the noise Adam made. “Fine. Let me ask you this. Do you watch porn?”
Adam was confused by the sudden veering off topic, but he refused to show it. “Yeah. Who doesn’t?”
“Gay or straight porn?”
Adam fisted his hands against his chest. He didn’t like being put on the spot, on the defensive. “Guys fucking girls. Straight up. No twists.” He raised his chin defiantly, daring Evan to challenge his porn-watching habits.
Evan nodded, appearing calm again. “Most of the time when you’re watching, you’re jacking off, aren’t you?”
Adam grimaced but said nothing. Where was Evan going with this?
Evan stared at him, keeping their gazes locked. “I bet some days everybody onscreen doing it looks pretty good. I also bet some days you wouldn’t be able to tell what turns you on more—the act or the people doing it. Both or all of them. Nude figures writhing and gasping.”
Adam was definitely feeling the pressure now. His body reacted like it always did when the subject of sex came up. The mere thought of sex, any sex, was enough to stir his dick. Still he made an effort to contribute his point of view.
“We’re teens, for fuck’s sake, practically doped up on sex hormones
daily. It’s a miracle we don’t spontaneously combust. But getting hard doesn’t mean—”
“No, it doesn’t,” Evan cut in. “So why aren’t you giving me a chance to come to terms with this on my own schedule, not yours?”
Damn if Evan didn’t have a point. Adam had to concede that. “Fine. Yeah, okay. You’re right. See? This is me officially backing off.” He raised his hands in surrender.
Evan smiled. “Good. Thanks.”
Adam did, however, still need to suggest one thing before he was done with the subject. “You should try dating a girl, first, to see how you feel about it. Before giving up on them altogether, I mean.”
Evan seemed to mull this over for a long time. “And what if I feel nothing?”
Adam shrugged like he didn’t care, which was utter bullshit. “Like you said, sometimes that happens. Doesn’t mean you’re gay, just that the person isn’t right for you. Like me and Shelley. She’s wrong for me.”
“And what if I date a dozen girls and still feel nothing?”
Adam felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Th-then you… you try… guys.”
Evan’s eyes narrowed into slits. He looked dangerous and wild, quite unlike the meek nerd Adam had known him to be. “And if I do that, what will you do? Stop being my friend?” His jaw quivered just a tad, but enough for Adam to notice it with one glimpse. “It’s okay if you do. Just be upfront with me about it. And if you don’t wanna be my friend anymore, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk shit behind my back with your… new best friends.”
“You think I’d be that much of an asshole?” Adam glared.
Evan lowered his eyelids, hiding his eyes behind a veil of long blond lashes. “Wouldn’t be the first time gays got shafted, and not in the good way. People change when….” His voice faded and became small and uncertain.
Adam sure as shit didn’t want to add to that discomfort. “Well… I won’t. You can trust that. You can trust me. I’m not gonna turn into a fucktard, okay? You’re my best friend.”
Evan’s smile upped the wattage into sunshine range, blinding Adam. “Thanks.”
Adam flushed, and his body heated all over from that simple look of friendship and gratitude. “Shut up, man.” He pushed himself off the car and nodded toward the door into the house. “C’mon. Let’s get something to eat. I’m fucking starving.”
With an enigmatic smile, Evan followed him in, exactly like he always did, as if nothing had changed. Adam still wasn’t sure if anything had.
Chapter 3
ADAM FELT rotten. They’d basically glossed over the whole sexual orientation business because he’d caved under the disappointment in Evan’s eyes. Adam had wanted to know more, understand more, get under Evan’s skin and learn the truth. No matter how multifaceted the truth seemed to be these days.
Now he agonized over the date he’d basically pressured Evan to go on. The girl Evan had chosen for his experiment was Tawny, a hot geeky girl who wasn’t into relationships—after all, Evan was too nice a guy to toy with a girl who might be really interested in him—liked short skirts and colorful halter tops, and had a crazy manga-like hairstyle, currently turquoise and partly shaved at the left side. At least in that respect Tawny mirrored Evan, whose hair was still streaked with pink.
Adam wasn’t glancing out the window every five minutes. No, it was closer to every five seconds. From his floor-to-ceiling corner window, he could see into Evan’s bedroom. Originally that had helped them become friends—proximity and all that—but now the windows that had no curtains blocking the view mocked Adam’s curiosity.
No lights, no movement. Evan still hadn’t come home from his Friday night date, and Adam cursed his own stupidity for forcing the issue, insisting that Evan should at least try girls before going all gung ho with guys.
But Adam wasn’t jealous. No fucking way. He was merely… anxious about his friend’s safety and well-being. Yeah, that was it. He was worried because he cared.
Cared? Ha! What a fucking joke. The past week had been long and hella awkward for Adam. Every glance from Evan’s hazel eyes sent shivers down Adam’s spine, every laugh made his belly flutter with butterflies, each touch boiled Adam’s insides as though Evan held the switch controlling Adam’s body temperature, and each whisper of camaraderie turned into a naughty vision, thanks to Adam’s overactive imagination.
Adam checked the time on his wristwatch. Past eleven. Adam banged the wall with his fist, scanning both sides of the street for Evan’s car. Technically it was his parents’ car, but he could borrow it for emergencies. Adam growled. Since when was a date an emergency? If only his father had refused to lend the car. Then Evan would be home, looking across the gap between their houses and smiling at Adam—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Adam huffed and punched the wall a few more times for no reason. His knuckles got bruised and red, but at least they didn’t bleed. “I’m not jealous. I’m not. I’m not fucking gay. I don’t want….”
He was having either a brain aneurysm or a severe existential crisis. At the moment he couldn’t decide which he longed for more. His forehead felt feverish and his head throbbed, so he rubbed a hand over it, hoping to relieve the tension. But to no avail. He was weary to the bone, but he couldn’t sleep until he knew Evan was home. And sleeping alone.
Why did Evan have to go and change? He looked different, didn’t he? What had Evan done to himself? His hair seemed brighter-colored and wilder, his skin held an incandescent glow, his eyes sparkled with joy and happiness, his smile…. Oh God, that smile. Evan smiled with all his being, his full lips spreading into an expression that made Adam’s heart beat faster.
In frustration, Adam kicked the rug a couple of times, punched a cushion from the bed and then tossed it aside, and finally returned to the window and gazed out like some nutcase stalker. Their houses were on a quiet suburban street with little to no traffic. No one drove into sight.
Adam pressed his heated forehead against the cool window. He wasn’t stupid. He was well aware it wasn’t Evan who had changed; it was Adam. He looked at Evan with different eyes. It was all in his head. Now that Evan appeared transformed into a… shit, a sexual being, Adam was at a loss as to how to deal with it.
Being a horny teenager didn’t help. Maybe Adam didn’t want Evan. Not really. Perhaps he just needed to get laid with… someone. Basically any warm-blooded, soft-skinned human being. At this point anyone would do. Yeah, that had to be it. Just plain old lust working its maddening magic in his bones and groin, pulling at his nuts and dick like nobody’s business.
“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Did cursing help? Fuck no.
Adam sighed. He’d been doing a lot of both lately. Sighing (as though his heart longed for something or someone) and cursing (’cause he had no answers to give to the poor achy-breaky organ.) He needed to get out of this…. Rut was the wrong word, he mused, but the situation didn’t really cover the depth and breadth of the misery he was inflicting upon himself.
A flash of headlights beamed through the window, shifting shadows on his ceiling and walls. Adam pressed both hot palms against the glass and watched with bated breath, refusing to as much as blink.
A silver Toyota. Evan’s dad’s car. Adam squinted to see how many people were in the car, but he couldn’t make anything out in the dark. The vehicle drove around the corner to get to the garage and vanished inside.
It was utterly ridiculous, but Adam hid. He flattened himself against the wall by the tall window to avoid being seen if and when the light went on in Evan’s room, although Adam’s own house was in pitch-darkness. Adam rubbed his hand over his mouth, feeling the sweat on his upper lip. His stomach roiled as though nausea were settling in, and his mouth was dry as a desert.
Then light did come on in Evan’s room—a soft golden glow. That meant Evan had only turned on his bedside lamp. As Adam peered around the edge of his window frame, a single shadow drifted across the window. Evan. He was alone. Adam let out a breath he hadn’t realize
d he’d been holding and slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
He ran a hand through his hair. Adam was being stupid. Evan would never bring a girl or guy home, even on a Friday. His parents slept under the same roof. That’d be weird, in every sense, even if it’d probably be safer there than somewhere else.
A thud came from the balcony. Then a soft rapping on the french doors.
Adam hesitated. It’d be Evan. Adam wasn’t sure if he was ready to confront his friend. If Evan found out what Adam had been up to, he’d think Adam had gone mad.
Another soft tap sounded. Resigned to his fate, Adam got up and slouched to the door. He wore nothing but his jeans, but it’d be obvious to Evan he hadn’t been in bed. Adam unlocked and opened the door.
Evan’s bashful face came into view though mostly in shadow. Only the lighter glow of his eyes stood out. “Hi. Did I wake you?”
“Nah. Come in.” Adam waved Evan inside and stepped aside to let him pass. Then he closed the door again. “What’s up?” Adam could’ve slapped himself silly. That had to be the lamest conversation opener in history. But his mouth ran amok and did the whole word-vomit thing. “How did the date go?” Oh, smooth. Way to steer Evan subtly to the topic at hand. Adam did slap himself then, but only on the thigh, making it appear half-casual at least.
Evan gave him an odd look, glancing between his face and his thigh. Then he snorted. “Okay. Not bad but… not good either.”
Uh-oh. Adam found he couldn’t move, so he just stood there like an idiot, his bare feet glued to the floor. “What went wr—what happened?” He was relatively proud of being able to keep his tone level.
Evan shrugged, but his stance was too stiff to appear casual. His gaze kept wandering about the room. “It was…. She wasn’t…. It didn’t…. I tried, but…. No. Just… no.” He stopped and swallowed hard. Adam could tell because Evan’s Adam’s apple (ha!) bobbed. Then Evan gave him a nervous look from under his furrowed brow. “No… to girls. I… I’m not bi.”
