Quiet Storm, Season 2, Episode 6 (Rising Storm)

by Julie Kenner

  “So, tell me if I’m wrong and I’ll back off,” Scott said. “But I don’t think I am.”

  “Wrong?” Jeffry frowned. “About what?”

  “About this,” Scott said, as he leaned in. And then, before Jeffry could even get his thoughts together, Scott’s hand was on his shoulder and his mouth covered Jeffry’s.

  His pulse pounded. His head swam. And as he gasped in surprise and awe, his mouth opened just enough for Scott to take advantage, his tongue slipping into Jeffry’s mouth. His hand clenching tighter even as his other palm cupped the back of Jeffry’s head and held him in place, giving him no place to run even if he’d wanted to.

  He didn’t want to.

  On the contrary, he wanted this to never end. He felt dizzy. He felt free.

  Perfect. Right. Complete.

  And then Scott was pulling away, and Jeffry wanted to scream out in protest.

  Scott’s smile was both gentle and questioning. “So, am I wrong?”

  Jeffry swallowed, not sure which way to go. He could end this now and pretend it never happened and let things just go along the way they had until he was in college and out from under his father’s roof.

  Or he could take what he wanted and start being the person he really was.

  Honestly, the decision wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. He tilted his head to the side and pretended to think. “I’m not sure,” he said, holding back a smile. “Maybe you should try again?”

  Scott’s laughter filled him up. “Yeah,” he said as he drew Jeffry closer. “Maybe I should.”

  * * * *

  Lacey finally rolled out of bed around noon on Sunday. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, feeling lost and alone, with the memory of Mallory’s snub and Jeffry’s indifference clinging to her like a prickly blanket.

  And as for Luis—well, she’d used him and then told lies about him. Chances were good he’d never be her friend again.

  She’d dug herself in deep, and all she wanted to do was claw her way out of the hole. But she didn’t know how, and so she’d comforted herself the only way she could—with a menagerie of her old stuffed animals, the cookies that her mother had left out for her, and the sweet oblivion of sleep.

  The sleep had helped. But it was the cookies that gave her hope. They were a sign, after all. A small sign, at least, that things could change. That people could heal.

  Maybe that meant that friendships could heal, too.

  She hoped so. And the best place to start was with Jeffry.

  Armed with a plan, she got dressed, grabbed a breakfast smoothie from the fridge, and got in her car to drive to her aunt and uncle’s massive home. Jeffry’s car was in the driveway, so odds were good he was home. But she had no idea if Uncle Sebastian or Aunt Payton were there, too.

  She frowned as she headed up the walk toward the front door, because the truth was she really didn’t want to see her uncle. Being around Uncle Sebastian was so much worse than being around Ginny. Ginny had lied, and it hurt. All the more because Ginny had always felt like a sister, what with how close she and Jacob had been. But Uncle Sebastian was a grown-up. A married man. Honestly, it was just gross. And the fact that he was her relative made Lacey feel even worse.

  If she just waltzed up to the front door, the odds were good she’d come face to face with him. She considered texting Jeffry and telling him to meet her in the backyard, but if he ignored her text—or replied with a firm no—she’d feel even more miserable than she already did.

  But if she went to him instead of him coming to her...

  Smiling, she backtracked until she was off the walkway and heading instead around the side of the house. If Jeffry was home, he was either in his bedroom or in the media room. Considering how much he liked video games, she’d lay money on the second.

  And considering the media room had its own set of French doors that opened onto the back patio, that was the perfect way to get in to see Jeffry and entirely avoid her uncle.

  Of course, he could also be in his room, but that was easy, too. She and Mallory and Luis had spent years climbing the tangled oak tree with the limb that extended over the roof. If she had to, she could get right to Jeffry’s window. But she had to admit, she hoped she didn’t have to.

  The house was so quiet, by the time she reached the back patio she was feeling a little silly. The water in the pool was completely still. No leaves rustled. The house seemed as quiet as the garden around her. Most likely, Jeffry had gone somewhere with Brit and left his car behind. And now that she thought about it, hadn’t she read something in the local paper about the senator being in Austin today for some charity shindig?

  The blinds were closed in the media room—the better to keep it dark—but one of the wood slats was chipped, and Lacey pressed her eye to the glass and peered through.

  Nothing.

  Her shoulders drooped with disappointment. But at least she’d come. She’d tried. And she could try again tomorrow.

  She was just about to head back around the house to her car when she heard a muffled sound. She couldn’t tell what it was, but it sounded as if it was coming from the yard behind her.

  Curious, she glanced around, then rolled her eyes at herself when she saw the pool house. Of course that would be where Jeffry was. He probably had his iPod and a book and a beer and was hanging out on that ratty old couch that even Aunt Payton, who liked everything nice, wouldn’t replace since it would just get ruined again by all the dripping wet kids who plopped down on it after taking a dip.

  She hurried that way, thinking that a beer sounded like a pretty good idea. It was certainly one way to break the ice.

  As she got closer, she noticed that all the curtains were closed, which was odd since Jeffry usually liked the sun to stream in. She hoped she wasn’t interrupting a nap, but if she was, that was too damn bad. She was geared up for a heart-to-heart now, and nothing was going to make her back down.

  A second later, she realized that she was completely wrong about that.

  The moment she put her hand on the doorknob she saw that there was a gap in the curtains. And in that same moment, she realized she could see through the gap to the couch.

  It took a few more seconds for what she saw to actually process in her head. But when it did, she pulled her hand back slowly, and then quietly stepped away.

  Oh. My. God.

  Jeffry and that Scott guy from the florist, and they were all over each other. And they were kissing and—

  Whoa.

  Jeffry was gay?

  She sucked in a tight breath, her heart pounding against her rib cage.

  How the hell did she not know that Jeffry was gay? Did Luis know? Did Mallory?

  Did Aunt Payton and Uncle Sebastian?

  And what the hell was she supposed to do now?

  Chapter 7

  Somehow, they’d moved to the couch, which was a good thing since Jeffry’s head was spinning so much he’d probably fall down if they were still standing.

  It was doubly a good thing because Scott was working some kind of magic on his mouth even while his hand was holding Jeffry’s head immobile. And—oh god—Scott’s other hand was on his waist, and Jeffry could feel skin against skin from where his T-shirt was riding up.

  He had no idea what he was doing, but it felt so damn perfect, and he wanted more. So much more, in fact that his initial hesitancy and shyness had disappeared, drowned in a sea of need. His own hands were on Scott’s face, relishing the firmness of his jaw, and the rough stubble against Jeffry’s palm as their lips clashed was probably the most erotic thing he’d ever felt in his life.

  Damn, but he could do this all day, tasting Scott’s lips, exploring his mouth with his tongue, relishing the wildness that was building inside of him, like a long-caged animal that was so ready to be released. He didn’t even know what the hell he was doing, but he was taking his cues from Scott, and whatever he was doing, he seemed to be doing it right, because Scott was breathing just as hard and se
emed just as turned on as Jeffry was.

  Oh god. Oh god, he was really doing this. He was really, finally doing this.

  Idly, he wondered if Scott could tell he was a virgin. Sure, he’d been on dates with girls, but they never did anything. Jeffry hadn’t ever wanted to, and if they pressed, he just said that he wanted to go slow.

  Right now, slow was the last thing on his mind.

  Gently, Scott pushed back, breathing hard. He met Jeffry’s eyes, his full of heat and fire. Then he reached down for the hem of Jeffry’s shirt and start to lift it. “This okay?”

  “Uh-huh,” Jeffry managed, amazed he could actually make sounds. And then Scott peeled the shirt the rest of the way off and pressed his lips to Jeffry’s chest, then kissed over to suck on his nipple and oh, wow, holy freaking shit, he just about lost it. He was hard as a rock and so turned on that he had to fight not to grab too hard onto Scott’s back for fear he’d bruise the guy.

  And then Scott moved lower still, his lips at the waistband of Jeffry’s khaki shorts and his hand cupping his erection, which, miraculously, got even harder. He was gasping, head thrown back, just trying to rein in all the sensations. He thought vaguely that he should be doing something, too, but all he could manage was to let it all in, these new feelings that were swirling around inside him like a raging storm that he never, ever wanted to blow out.

  But then Scott’s fingers unfastened the button and started tugging down his zipper and, damn him, Jeffry tensed up. “Scott, I—”

  “I get it.” Scott’s voice was as gentle as the hand cupping his cock. “This is your first time.”

  “Oh, man. Is it that obvious?”

  “Nothing wrong with that. I like being your first.” He paused, looking deep into Jeffry’s eyes. “I want to make you feel good.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “That’s okay.” Scott’s smile was as reassuring as his voice. “I do. All you have to do is tell me to stop if I go too far.”

  “Okay,” he said. You won’t, he thought.

  And even as the word lingered in the air, Scott finished unzipping him. Jeffry still wore his briefs, but he could feel the cool air now, and then the heat of Scott’s hands as he tugged down Jeffry’s shorts and underwear. And then he was bare and hard and exposed, and he should be burning up with embarrassment, but instead he just felt heat and desire and frustration because Scott wasn’t touching him yet.

  “Please,” he whispered, amazed at his own audacity.

  Scott didn’t answer aloud, but then his hand closed over Jeffry’s shaft, and his breath was hot on his balls, and then Scott’s tongue was teasing up his cock, and Jeffry’s whole body went stiff with anticipation. And then he was gasping as Scott’s lips teased the tip and as—oh, gosh, oh wow—he took Jeffry in, slow and deep, his tongue doing the most amazing thing as he sucked and as Jeffry clawed the threadbare material of that dreadful couch.

  Scott was brilliant and relentless. Teasing him. Playing him. Hands and mouth touching and stroking, pulling and sucking, and even though Jeffry wanted it to go on and on and on, he couldn’t hold on. It was like being thrown off a building into thin air, except instead of landing flat on the ground, he grew wings and soared, higher and higher until he cried out in pleasure and abandon as—yes—he touched the sun and his body exploded into a million tiny stars.

  When he could finally see straight again, he whispered, “Wow,” which hardly seemed adequate, but it was the only word he could form.

  Scott eased up his body, then lay beside him on the couch, his hand on Jeffry’s stomach. Gently, he leaned over and pressed his lips to Jeffry’s. “Okay?” he asked.

  “Better than okay. I may never move again.” He licked his lips, then used the last of his energy to shift to his side. Slowly, he reached down for Scott’s still-hard cock. “I should...”

  Scott pressed his own hand over Jeffry’s. “No. Not this time. Today was about you.”

  “But?”

  “How about I take a rain check? I’d like to see you again. And I really should get going. It’s a hell of a drive back to College Station.”

  “Oh.” Jeffry vacillated from being disappointed that Scott was leaving to excited about meeting him again. “Well, when?” he asked, then immediately wanted to kick himself. What if Scott was only being nice? What if he couldn’t care less about seeing Jeffry again?

  “Tomorrow would work for me,” Scott said, his smile erasing all Jeffry’s fears. “But it’s a little impractical. Any chance you can drive into Austin next Saturday?”

  “Austin?”

  “There’s a benefit for the Trevor Project—it helps homeless and at-risk LGBT kids. It’s at a bar called Oil Can Harry’s, but the event’s open to all ages. I’m coming in for the night. Have a hotel room all to myself and everything.”

  “Oh. I—”

  “You don’t have to answer now. But think about it. You’re planning on going to UT, right?”

  “Well, I haven’t applied yet, but it’s my top pick.”

  “So it’d be good for you to get to know some locals. And get familiar with the local clubs.” He climbed off the couch, then headed back into the bathroom. When he came out, he was holding his clothes. He stripped down and changed right in front of Jeffry. Somehow, Jeffry managed not to whimper.

  “Here,” Scott said, grabbing a pen and paper off the little table by the couch. He scribbled something, then handed it to Jeffry. “My address and cell number. Text me and let me know if you’re coming. I really hope you do.”

  He bent over and kissed Jeffry, who was still limp and happy and melancholy all at once. Then he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back.

  “And Jeffry? I had a really great time.”

  * * * *

  Lacey sat in her car outside Mallory’s house, trying to decide if she should text her former best friend or just go knock on the door.

  In the past, she might not even have knocked. Just rushed inside shouting out that she had to talk to Mallory. That it was important. And Mallory would drop everything, and they’d go sit in the backyard on the rusty old swing set or walk around the neighborhood chatting.

  Either way, it would be easy.

  Today wasn’t easy. All the more so because Lacey knew that Hector was back in town. She’d never liked Mallory’s father, even though he was always charming to her. Too charming. Like Uncle Sebastian, except Hector seemed hard underneath where Uncle Sebastian just seemed smarmy. And Lacey knew that Mallory was a little afraid of her dad, and even thought he hit her mom.

  She wondered if that had gotten worse since Hector came back, and her heart twisted knowing that whatever was going on in that house, Lacey hadn’t been there for Mallory to spill her heart out.

  Well, that was going to change right now.

  She turned off the ignition, then reached for the door handle. As she did, the Alvarez front door opened and Hector burst out, shouting back, “I can’t hear myself think with that damn vacuum cleaner. I’m gonna go grab a beer, and when I get back this wreck of a room better be livable. Not a fucking living room if I can’t even get comfortable there, now is it?”

  His car was parked at an odd angle to the curb, and since Lacey knew that he usually parked by the garage behind the house, she assumed that meant he’d come home drunk last night.

  She slid down a bit in her seat, and when he’d driven off without noticing her, she gathered her courage, got out of the car, and strode to the front door.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked three times. She shifted back and forth on her heels, hating how awkward she felt, and holding on tight to the gift she’d brought as a peace offering.

  She was just about to knock again when she heard someone approach the door. It opened slowly, and she saw Mrs. Alvarez peer out, looking pensive at first—almost scared—and then smiling broadly when she saw who it was.

  “Lacey! Oh my goodness, it’s been forever. How are you, sweetheart?”
/>   “I’m okay. I’ve been—” She cut herself off with a shrug. “Actually, I’ve been kind of a mess.”

  “And who could blame you?” Mrs. Alvarez said. She pulled Lacey into her arms, and Lacey let herself be hugged, only then realizing how much she needed a mom. Her mom, but for now Joanne Alvarez would do.

  Joanne released her gently, then looked at her face. “Are things starting to get better?”

  “I guess. That’s kind of why I’m here. I was hoping to see Mallory.”

  “She’s in her room. I think she’s reading.” Her smile was soft. “You know the way.”

  Lacey hesitated.

  “Go on, honey,” Joanne said encouragingly. “I think it will be okay.”

  “Really? I’ve been kind of impossible.”

  “Well, we all are sometimes. And while I can’t say for certain what Mallory will do when she sees you, I am certain that neither one of us will know until you try.”

  She was right about that. And so with a nod and a deep breath for courage, Lacey headed through the small living room toward Mallory’s room. The door was shut, and Lacey half-considered racing out the back door without knocking or saying good-bye to Mrs. Alvarez.

  But now wasn’t the time to be a coward. She’d come with a mission, and she couldn’t chicken out now.

  Steeling herself, she rapped on the door using the same pattern she, Mallory, and Luis had used for knocking at each other’s doors for years. There was a brief pause, then Mallory yanked open the door, her face lit up. “Hey, Luis! I didn’t know—oh. Lacey.”

  “Hi.” She shoved the gift bag at Mallory. “That’s for you. It’s, you know, a peace offering?” She said the last like a question.

  Mallory’s forehead scrunched up, and she opened the bag and pulled out the baby blue tank top that Lacey had gone back to purchase. She looked at it, sighed, then put it back inside the shopping bag from Pink. “What do you want, Lacey?”

  Lacey resisted the urge to bite her lip. “I just really want to talk to you. Something’s happened, and I—well, I kind of need my best friend.”