Fallen Stars (Stone Bay Series Book 3)

Chapter 9

For the first time,I don’t know how to respond to Levi. As if him kissing me short-circuited or rewired my brain.

Perhaps it did.

Years and years of fantasies, of daydreams, of imagining me and Levi as something other than friends. So much more than friends. Those small figments of my imagination, those made-up scenarios of him and me and the life I pictured us living if we took that next step. For years, those minor glimpses and what-ifs gave me hope. A glimmer of sunshine in the lonely moments.

But part of me never expected them to be anything other than what they were. Fantasies.

Then, he kissed me and poof. Peace out, coherent thought processes. Au revoir, rational mind. Sayonara, mental comprehension, knowing how to act or what to say.

It’s been three and a half days since he muttered fuck it and took me by surprise. Approximately eighty-five hours since he pinned me against my car and claimed my mouth. And close to thirty-six hours since he sent a text and said he wants to hang before the Memorial Day festival.

And because I am now incapable of thinking clearly when it comes to Levi, his text remains unanswered.

Ignoring him after the kiss twists my insides. Makes me jittery. Ignoring him feels wrong on so many fucking levels. The polar opposite of what I’d do in normal circumstances. With each passing day, my silence undoubtedly comes across as rejection. A slap to the face. As if I didn’t want him to kiss me. As if I never want to see him again.

But that is the farthest thing from the truth.

I want to kiss him. A lot. I want him to kiss me. God, do I fucking want that. His lips and tongue and hands on my skin. His warmth, his taste, his scent overwhelming my senses.

But my brain hasn’t figured out how to connect the damn dots. Not in the correct order. It refuses to blend years of fantasies with reality. Refuses to believe it happened. Instead, my mind works overtime. Steals my sleep as I lie awake at night and overanalyze every minute Levi and I have spent together the past few years.

Hopes and suspicions were all I had throughout the years. Now… I don’t know what it is that I have. An insignificant taste of what could be.

I rip the comforter away from my body, throw my legs off the bed, sit up, and fist my hair.

“Text him later. After practice,” I mutter to myself.

After a quick shower, I dress and exit my apartment over the garage. I punch in the code on the door beneath the stairs and enter the mudroom between the dining room and garage. Kick off my shoes and stow them beneath the bench.

A notable grumble sounds from my stomach as the scent of fresh bread, seasoned meat, corn, and cheese hit my nose. When I reach the kitchen and see my parents working in harmony on a late breakfast, my stomach gnaws at my insides.

“Smells good.” I sidle up to Mama and kiss her cheek. “Anything I can help with?”

“Good morning, du?o.” Her gaze sweeps over my face a beat before the corners of her mouth turn down. “You need better sleep.” She wipes her hands on a towel and cups my cheeks. The soft pads of her thumbs stroke slowly as her green eyes hold mine. “Too many late nights and early mornings are catching up.”

I lean into her touch, her warmth, and rest my hands over hers. “Just a lot on my mind right now.” I drop my hands and step into her, wrapping her in a hug. “After the festival, I’ll catch up on sleep.”

When I release her from the hug, she holds me at arm’s length and studies my eyes. Not that I’ve ever lied to my parents, but when Mama sees me out of sorts and I tell her I’m okay, she looks at me like this. A little longer. An inquisitive look in her eye. It isn’t out of mistrust. More from a place of concern. She wants her only child happy and loved. So I don’t shrink away or wave off her examination. It’s just another way she says I love you.

She rests a hand over my heart. “After the festival.”

“Promise, Mama.”

Washing my hands, I join my parents at the counter and help with breakfast.

On Sundays, we cook traditional foods throughout the day. Breakfast or brunch features Mama’s favorite recipes from her childhood with the occasional twist of her own. Bosnian recipes handed down from her mother and grandmother and so on. Though she doesn’t need them, she has each recipe written down in her neat handwriting and stowed in a hand-carved box her grandfather made when she was a girl, Emina etched in the grain.

She saves those recipe cards for me. So she can pass them on one day. Not that I need them either. Decades in the kitchen with my parents without a single written recipe has taught me all I need to know.

Late in the afternoon, Papa will come in the kitchen and blanket several surfaces in flour as he makes fresh pasta. Soon thereafter, the house will smell of capers, basil, garlic and oregano, followed by the salty aroma of cheese. Fresh red sauce gets made once a month and canned. On those Sundays, the house smells incredible all day. Papa tends to rotate through a menu in his head, but we usually have fish, chicken, or vegetables during Sunday dinner.

Unless I’m with Levi, I help Papa with dinner too.

Being in the kitchen with my parents is a balm for my soul. Not only are they sharing family history and traditions, they’re also teaching me a way of life. Reminding me that we exist beyond computers and phones and trends. That we aren’t robots in a maze. And food is as much a love language as what you say or do.

This time with them reminds me I am human and loved and capable. It hits the refresh button on what’s important in life—spending uninterrupted time with people you care about. I wouldn’t exchange it for anything.

We carry platters of food to the dining room table, sit in the same seats we have since I was a kid, and dive into the fruits of our labor.

Mama mentions an uptick in business at Zen Den—the town’s most popular massage studio—and how she’s needing to do extra self-care before and after each client she works on. Papa shares recent chats with the townsfolk in the post office. Since the Stone Bay post office is the main hub for packages, snail mail, and additional professional services, Papa sees most of the town’s residents weekly.

They ask how Trip and Hailey are, and about the band’s show lineup. Although it isn’t part of our usual routine to practice on Sundays, my parents are excited for us to play at tomorrow’s festival.

With natural ease, the conversation shifts and Mama asks about Levi.

“It’s been ages since he’s joined us for dinner. Would be nice to share a meal with him again.” Mama lifts her mug to her lips and sips her coffee. “Ask him for me the next time you talk?”

I swirl the tines of my fork through the last bit of ?imbur on my plate, my eyes following the action. With a stilted nod, I mutter, “Yeah. Of course, Mama.”

Near my twelfth birthday, I told my parents I had a crush on a boy in my class. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I’d never thought my attraction to boys was different or weird. I hadn’t seen many gay or lesbian couples in Stone Bay, but it never occurred to me that love had limits or boundaries regarding who you loved. My parents didn’t raise me with closed-off ideals.

My parents have always been accepting of who I am without hesitation. They have always gifted me the space to grow and flourish so long as I was safe. Over the years, I’ve dated several guys. Some incredible, and others I’d rather forget. Neither of my parents laid judgment on me for my choices. All they asked was that I be careful and only give my heart to someone deserving.

I didn’t miss the way Mama watched me and Levi during family dinner. Nor did I miss the small smiles she sent in our direction when we spoke on passionate topics.

Mama is not oblivious to my feelings for my best friend, but she keeps them under lock and key.

After I help wash dishes, I head out to the garage and get in the mindset for practice. Trip and Hailey come in through the side door moments later. We go through our individual warmup routines and then go over our setlist for tomorrow.

The thump, thump, thump of my drums bounce off the garage walls, the wail of Hailey’s guitar vibrates the air, and the low and sultry tone of Trip’s bass pulses beneath our feet. Song by song, we go through each without hurry. Not wanting to exhaust ourselves before tomorrow, we take several breaks and hype each other up for our first major show.

Near the end of our second to last song, the side door of the garage swings open. Still playing, the three of us glance toward the door as Levi walks in with a large brown bag. We continue to play as though nothing happened. No greetings or gestures are exchanged. It’s like any other band practice when Levi shows up.

As we go through the final song, I keep my head down and try to focus. But I can’t help but peek at Levi every chance I get.

When the final song ends, Hailey bounds over to the couches, her eyes on the spread of take-out boxes. Trip sidles up to her a beat before they open boxes and get lost in the Thai buffet. As for me, I remain glued to my stool behind my drums.

The minutes pass with stuttered breaths and congested thoughts. It irks me that I feel so out of my element now. That I don’t know how to act around Levi.

But I can’t just fucking sit here.

Inhaling deeply, I rise from my stool and cross the room to join everyone on the couches. As I have hundreds of times in the past, I sit next to Levi and lift my chin in greeting.

“Hey.” A corner of my mouth twitches. “How’d you know Hails and T were here?”

Levi is quiet as I scan the boxes filled with noodle or rice dishes, fried spring rolls, and satay skewers. When he doesn’t answer after a moment, I shift my attention to him. What I’m met with steals the breath from my lungs.

Brow cocked and lips slightly puckered, his blue eyes bore into my soul. My eyes dart between his before dropping to his lips for one, two, three erratic heartbeats. I swallow as my gaze returns to his. A desperate, feral need to taste his lips and tongue again simmers in my veins and makes my groin swell.

“Big day tomorrow,” he says as his tongue darts out and licks his lips. “Makes sense to practice.”

His words hit my ears, but they’re indiscernible white noise. Because all I can think about is his mouth on mine again.

Fucking hell. Get your shit together.

Needing a distraction, I grab a satay skewer from the box and give my mouth something else to focus on. Conversation about the festival sparks, and Hailey becomes highly animated as she speaks. And for a half hour, the four of us munch on takeout and chat like we do any other day.

“We’re going to head out,” Trip says as he balls up a napkin and tosses it in the bag. “Thanks for the late lunch, man.”

“It’s no problem. Can’t wait to see you all on stage tomorrow.” Levi closes up the boxes with food in them. “Want the leftovers?” He pushes a few boxes toward Trip and Hailey.

Trip looks to me and I shrug. He gives his own shrug in return. Then he grabs the boxes from the table. “Thanks, Levi.” He lifts a hand and flashes two fingers. “Deuces. We’ll be here bright and early to pack up.”

“Later.” I give them a half-hearted wave.

A foreign silence echoes around us once Hailey and Trip exit the garage. Once Levi and I are truly alone for the first time in several days. I’m still not feeling like myself, but also not uncomfortable. Nervous, perhaps?

Considering I never anticipated Levi reciprocating my feelings, I’m just… out of sorts.

He walked in here almost an hour ago as though nothing happened. As if we are still the same Oliver and Levi we were a week ago, a month ago, a year ago. But it’s impossible to be the same. After that kiss, we will never be the same. How can we be?

Does he regret the kiss? Is him coming here today, sticking with his same routine during band practice, because he wants things to go back to the way they were?

God, I hope not.

Now that I’ve tasted him, now that I know what his weight feels like against me, I want nothing less. I refuse to settle for anything less.

“Hey.” He bumps my knee with his.

I take a slow, deep breath before I lift my gaze to meet his. “Hey.”

He gives a quick tip of his head toward the main garage door. “Let’s go for a drive.”

What little I ate churns in my stomach.

This is it. This is the end of our friendship.

I swallow and shove the dreadful thought to the back of my mind.

Uncertainty pulses through my veins as I nod. “Sure.”

I collect the trash and deposit it in the garbage as we leave. Levi unlocks his fast as fuck Ferrari Spider and slips into the driver’s seat with ease. Seat belts buckled, he reverses out of the driveway and weaves through the neighborhood at a painfully slow pace.

As we pass the Northcott farm stand, I expect him to turn left and drive into town. But he continues north, driving through more neighborhoods at a moderate speed. At the end of the street, he makes a left and then veers us onto Aarluk Bypass.

The houses disappear and tall evergreens take their place. Sun filters through the trees as he picks up speed on the windy road. Soon, we merge onto Bloodstone Blvd, then turn right onto Granite. Mashing a button on the steering wheel, he cranks his electronic music playlist all the way up as the car goes from thirty-five to eighty in a matter of seconds.

We fly down the highway, the adult store on the northern outskirts of town a blur as we pass. His tires eat up the miles as we drive away from Stone Bay and through national forest lands. Indistinct stripes of green and brown whiz by, and I try not to focus on any one thing as Levi drives faster.

Over the years, I’ve learned to not study anything outside the car when Levi pushes the car past eighty. I end up dizzy and borderline nauseous. When we take these rides, I sit back and let go. Allow myself to get lost in the blur. On these drives, I used to dream about all the what-ifs—the scenarios that’d follow if we took the next step.

Now that he’s kissed me, and we haven’t talked about where we go from here, my what-ifs have taken on a life of their own.

What if I royally fucked up our friendship? What if we’re unable to go back to the way we were? What if I lose him?

Then it dawns on me that I’ve been the quiet one for days. I’ve been the one avoiding the subject. I am the one that has put us in limbo.

The car slows and I peek at Levi from the corner of my eye. He downshifts and slows further. Before I get the chance to ask why, he turns left onto a road somewhat obscured by overgrowth. I stare up at the tree canopy and take in the narrow lanes as we continue forward. After less than a quarter mile, the road opens to a small gravel lot with a park bathroom, an elevated view of the Pacific, and not a soul for miles.

He parks the car, cuts the engine, and drops his hands in his lap. Silence swallows us as we sit unspeaking. But it isn’t the same kind of silence we shared weeks ago. It isn’t our silence.

“Ollie, I…” He takes a deep breath as he searches for what to say.

I turn my head his way, but don’t look at him head on. I’m not prepared for the possible rejection on his face.

“About the other night.”

Here it comes. My heart bangs viciously in my rib cage.

“About the… kiss.”

Fuck.Why is this so damn hard for us? If you’re done with me, just rip the bandage off already.

“I don’t regret it.”

My brows tug together as I narrow my eyes and twist to face him better. “What?”

His luminous blue eyes riveted to my greens, he worries his bottom lip. With a simple shake of his head, he repeats himself. “I don’t regret it.” His gaze roams my face and studies the skeptical lines in my expression. “Do you?” Those two simple words are shadowed by tangible fear.

“No,” I say immediately. “Never.”

“Are you sure?”

Does Levi not know me at all? If he’s picked up on how I feel for him—even if only a fraction—he already knows the answer. Although I’ve done my best to keep my attraction and emotions toward him in check, it’d be impossible for him to not sense any of it.

Pulse whooshing in my ears, I hold his radiant blue gaze. “No regrets.”

It’s funny how saying two straightforward words changes your entire life.

“No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear, I promise you the whole thing with Abi is fake.”

Relief and alarm punch me in the solar plexus simultaneously. The way he says the shortened version of her name… as though they’ve been chummy all their lives. I hate it.

“What I see or hear?”

His gaze shifts to look out the windshield. He rolls his lips between his teeth then swallows.

I stare at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the pout of his lips. I visually trail down his neck, roam over his Adam’s apple, past the collar of his shirt.

He’s so damn still, I swear he isn’t breathing.

“Her parents asked if we were going to the festival together.”

Of course, they did.

Head against the seat, he rotates until our eyes meet again. “I hate organized events as it is. Attending with someone I have no interest in is ten times worse.”

“So don’t go,” I blurt.

“Wish it was that easy.” His brows bend inward. “I started this whole fiasco. I need to figure out how to end it too.”

Gaze unfocused, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

Warmth grazes my cheek and snaps everything back into focus. My eyes widen and jaw slackens as I stare at Levi. I stare awestruck as his eyes follow his caress of my cheek. Slow and soft and curious. His fascination and tenderness are a shot of adrenaline in my bloodstream.

His fingers drift to the angle of my jaw and down the length of my neck. “Are you nervous?” The words are barely a whisper.

Saliva pools in my mouth as his fingers stroke the collar of my graphic tee. Swallowing, I nod. “Yes.”

His eyes flit to mine. “Why?”

What a loaded fucking question? Truly, there is no simple answer. Not when it comes to me and Levi.

Inhaling a methodical, ragged breath, I spill one of my biggest fears. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

His fingers drift along my collarbone and down my arm. Drawing a few swirls near my elbow, he continues his exploration as he traces over the half-sleeve tattoo on this arm. Like the kiss, his fingers on my skin is the headiest mix of heaven and hell.

“Me either.” His hand returns to my cheek, the tips of his fingers curling firmly around the nape of my neck. “We’ll figure it out as we go.” Gaze on my lips, he eases forward and eats up the space between us.

“Why now?”

Lips inches from mine, his brow furrows. A beat passes before his expression smooths and turns to awareness. “This whole situation woke me up, I guess.” He inches back, but remains close. In light, measured strokes, his thumb caresses the angle of my jaw as he holds my stare. “Ollie, I’ve wanted this”—he pauses and swallows—“I’ve wanted more than friendship with you for a while.”

“You have?”

The corner of his mouth kicks up in a subtle half smile. “Yeah, I have. For years.”

“Oh.”

How the hell did I miss this? Maybe I was too busy in my own fantasyland to see the forest for the trees.

“With my father the way he is, I’ve been biding my time. Waiting for my trust to kick in so I can move out and on with my life however I want.”

I hate that his life is so wrapped up in the politics of Stone Bay. That he can’t live his life how he chooses without his dad interfering or trash-talking his choices.

His grip on my neck tightens. “Can we talk about it later?”

I nod.

He licks his lips. “Thank fuck.”

And then his lips are on mine, hungry and wet and warm as he kisses me senseless. A click echoes through the car, followed by another. My seat belt eases from my shoulder and I shrug it the rest of the way off.

My hands go to his cheeks, his stubble scratching my palms as my fingers slip into his brown locks. His tongue swirls mine once, twice, before he deepens the kiss and sucks the length of my tongue. It’s a shot straight to the dick and I moan in appreciation.

All the sound does is spur him on further.

One hand in my hair guiding the kiss, his other travels down my neck, my pecs, my abdomen. He pauses inches from the aching erection beneath my zipper.

As much as I want him to wrap his fingers around my cock, I won’t pressure Levi into doing something he may not be ready for. It’s one thing to admit your feelings for someone. It’s something wholly different to confess your feelings, reveal that you’re gay or bisexual, and then consensually grope someone in a public parking lot during the day.

I want his hands and lips and mouth on every inch of me. But I also don’t want to rush this.

Whatever this is between us, it’s been a long time in the making. Going from zero to a hundred this fast… I don’t want hurried, spontaneous decisions to ruin us before there truly is an us.

Against every molecule in my makeup, I break the kiss. He instantly hauls me back to him and crushes my lips once more. A smile ghosts my lips as soft laughter spills from my mouth. At this, he pulls back and stares at me with confusion in his gaze.

“Did I do something wrong?”

My cheeks sting as I widen my smile. “Not at all.” I tug at the length of his hair. “More than perfect.”

“Then why stop?”

“Truth?”

He nods. “Always.”

My gaze drops to his swollen, red lips and I lick my own before leveling him with my gaze. “I don’t want the first time we do something other than kiss to be in a crampy car in a parking lot. And…”

When I don’t continue after a moment, he nudges me. “And?”

“And if we take the next step and you start to feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to feel trapped.” I shrug. “If you need space to digest it all, I don’t want you to feel stuck.”

The corner of his mouth twitches a beat before he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. But he doesn’t pull away after the kiss. Instead, his lips hover over mine. I curse every fucking deity in the heavens as he lingers in my orbit, deliciously torturing me and making me second-guess my decision.

“Touching dicks other than my own may be new for me, but nothing about touching yours will scare me off.”

Frozen in my seat, my heart beating a turbulent rhythm in my chest, I forget how to speak. Levi mentions touching my dick and that’s it… I’m done for.

Light laughter floats through the car as he inches away. He trails the tip of his finger over my lips, his eyes following the action. When his hand falls away, I immediately miss his touch.

“Guess we should head back.” He buckles his seat belt and starts the car.

I adjust myself, not missing his subtle groan, and buckle myself in. Needing to take my mind off my erection, I try to think of anything other than the kiss and Levi wanting to touch my dick. I glance at the time on the dash—early evening—and it jogs an earlier conversation with my parents about inviting Levi over. It’s an instant cold shower to my system as we exit the lot and drive south.

“Got dinner plans?”

He shifts gears and the car picks up speed. “No.” He glances my way for a split second. “Want to grab something?”

“Mama misses you. She said it’s been too long since you had dinner with us.” I stare at his profile as the trees pass in a darker blur than earlier.

He rests his hand on the gearshift as we coast down the highway. Silence stretches out between us and has me wondering if I should rescind the invitation.

“I miss Sunday dinners too,” he finally says. And as we exit the national forest near Stone Bay, he eases off the accelerator. “Maybe I should join more often.”

Thrill buzzes in my chest.

Yeah. You should.

May 26th

I’ve dreamed about this for so fucking long. And now it’s happening. I think. He kissed me days ago. Today, he kissed me again. He wants me. L really fucking wants me. And it’s so surreal that I had to be the one to slow us down earlier. If I hadn’t stopped us in the car earlier, my dick would’ve been in his hand. Just the thought of it has me hard. And it wouldn’t have stopped there.

Fucking hell! My spank bank got a million times better today.

All those old fantasies… psh. After the way he sucked my tongue earlier, now all I can think about is fucking his throat. Or him fucking mine.

Sweet fucking hell, I am screwed.