Chapter Thirty-Six
“I’ve decided what we’re going to do,” Sam announced over dinner.
They were sitting outside at a popular local burger chain, and Connor hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the food arrived.
It was probably because the nerves knotting his stomach had dissipated and he felt like the worst part of the trip was over.
Sam seemed similarly relieved. He’d ordered a bunch of different sides and was taking bites of all of them as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
“Hit me,” Connor said, picking up his cheeseburger and hoping Sam wasn’t about to suggest one of the bat boat tours he’d seen driving over the river. Flying rodents gave him the creeps.
“I’m going to take you dancing.”
“Okay...” Connor wasn’t entirely sure what that entailed.
“Hear me out.” Sam shoved another French fry into his mouth. “I’m talking mirror balls, cages, leather. You can be the gayest you’ve ever been. It’ll be like your official baptism.”
Connor coughed, trying not to choke on his food. “I don’t think I fit into that crowd.”
Sam shook his head, unperturbed. “That’s the beauty of it—you don’t have to fit in. You don’t have to be a certain type. Just show up as yourself.”
Despite his hesitation, Connor felt an unfamiliar excitement. He was being invited to the party he’d spent his whole life watching from the window.
“All right. I’m in.”
“Oh my God!” Sam exclaimed, beaming. “This is going to be amazing!”
His enthusiasm was infectious, and Connor couldn’t help but laugh. If anything, it would be a fun story to share, a peek into Sam’s old life in the city.
Sam checked them into a swanky hotel downtown so they could shower and freshen up after a day on the road. The plan was to head back to Oakdale late the following morning.
Connor watched Sam slick back his hair in the bathroom mirror and dab a touch of electric blue eyeshadow to the inner corners of his eyes. “I am sorely unprepared for this,” he said, standing next to Sam and staring at his own unremarkable reflection.
“Don’t worry. All you need to do when we get there is take your shirt off.”
Connor blanched. “What? I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. You have an amazing body, and less is more in these places. Try it out; see how it feels.”
They were close enough to walk to the first club, which was already packed when they arrived, and it was only eleven. They paid the cover and got their wrists stamped, then Sam took Connor’s hand and led him into a sea of sweaty bodies pulsating to the thump of an early EDM remix.
Connor’s gaze roamed the gloriously skimpy outfits, which left little to the imagination.
Above them on a raised platform, two dancers gyrated in silver shorts, their bare chests streaked with glow paint.
All around them, men were dancing, touching, exploring.
Connor felt someone palm his ass as they passed.
It was like he’d stepped into a technicolor fantasy land.
“This is insane!” he shouted in Sam’s general direction.
Sam grinned and moved to wrap his arms around Connor’s neck. “Isn’t it?”
“I mean, look at everyone!”
Sam frowned. “Uh-oh. Did I just bring you to an all-you-can-eat buffet?”
Connor pulled Sam close so their bodies ground together in time with the music. “I only have eyes for you,” he said, pressing his lips to Sam’s ear.
Sam tilted his chin to kiss him as they floated through an ocean of beautiful people, clinging to each other.
While Connor had opted not to shed his shirt, he still looked incredibly fetching in a tight white tee and jeans.
It was hard not to notice the attention he’d been getting since they’d arrived at the club.
Sam was used to how Connor appeared in Oakdale—the friendly, unassuming tradesman.
In Austin, under the roving gaze of hungry eyes, he oozed a clean-cut masculine charm.
At first, Sam had fought against a familiar insecurity, but Connor seemed oblivious to the effect he had on the men in the room.
True to his word, he remained glued to Sam all night.
Sam stood to one side of the bar as Connor, taller and more assertive, attempted to muscle his way through the throng of people to order drinks. There was a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and Sam turned to see someone bounding toward him.
“Sam!”
“Brandon?”
Brandon burst out laughing and scooped Sam into a bear hug. “It’s been forever!”
Sam smiled when he released him. “It has.”
Brandon scanned over Sam’s shoulder as though looking for someone. “You still with...?”
A flush crept up Sam’s neck. “Ah, no. Not for a while now.”
“Thank God!” Brandon blew a mouthful of air through his lips. “Felix was such a fucking asshole.”
Sam laughed; it came as a relieved burst, bubbling up his throat.
“He really was.” He glanced over to where Brandon had come from and spotted Remy and several others sitting at a private booth with Brandon’s boyfriend, Mike.
The booth was decked out with balloons and what appeared to be a blown-up sex doll with a beard scribbled on in black marker. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
A flicker crossed Brandon’s face. “Nah, it’s just a leaving thing for Mike.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Have they broken up? He’d always thought Brandon and Mike were rock-solid.
As if Mike was privy to the whir of Sam’s thoughts, he looked over to where Sam and Brandon were talking and got up from the booth to join them. “Speak of the devil,” Brandon said when Mike appeared beside him.
“Nice to see you again, Sam,” Mike greeted him with a nod.
“I hear you’re leaving.”
“Not for good. I’ve been offered a transfer for work. I’m overseeing the setup of a new regional branch—but they’ll send me back once everything’s chugging along.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Raleigh. North Carolina.”
Sam glanced over at Brandon, whose regular breezy smile looked somewhat forced. “So, are you guys...?”
“We’re going to give the long-distance thing a go,” Brandon piped up. “Phone sex is one of my many natural talents.”
“Donnie,” Mike protested half-heartedly.
When they’d first met, Brandon had asked Sam—entirely unprompted—to tell him about the best year of his life.
Sam had drawn a blank, unsure what to say, and to cover his silence, Brandon launched into a graphic anecdote about learning to jerk off when he was twelve and how that was—hands down—the best year to date.
The admission was so hilarious Sam had immediately felt at ease.
“What about you?” Brandon asked, unfazed. “Where are you based these days? I haven’t seen you around town.”
“Back home, actually—Oakdale, Nebraska.”
Connor picked that moment to reappear with their drinks, and Sam shyly introduced them. Almost immediately, Mike and Connor launched into an earnest conversation about wind-power generation, their heads drawing together to hear each other over the noise of the club.
“Look at these two,” Brandon cooed, turning back to Sam. “Nebraska, huh? So, you liking it out there?”
“Yeah, it’s been great.”
“I’ll bet it has. All those cornfed boys.” Brandon studied Connor through lowered lashes then gave Sam a wink. “I like this one. Why do I get the feeling he’d do a decent job fixing my car?”
“Or rewiring your house.”
Brandon groaned. “I love that shit! Sadly missing in this day and age. Mike can, like, bring down a Swiss bank or something, but he would be absolutely useless going camping.” A Madonna-Britney classic blasted from the speakers, and he threw up his arms with a whoop.
“Mike, get over here! We’re dancing!” And with a smirk and a wave, Brandon pulled his boyfriend onto the dance floor.
“They’re fun,” Connor remarked. “Friends of yours?”
“Kind of. I think I inherited them from Felix.”
“Well, at least he left you with something good.”
Sam laughed and downed his drink. “Want to dance?”
Connor’s eyes crinkled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Connor woke to discover a sliver of light coming from the crack beneath the bathroom door and Sam gone from bed.
They’d arrived back at the hotel after the club, unable to keep their hands off each other.
Something about Sam grinding against him in a room full of sweaty, gorgeous bodies left Connor more than a little turned on.
Sam inhabited an unexpected swagger while out in his old stomping ground, and Connor had loved the suggestive way he’d swung his hips to the music, the bottom of his shirt rolled up to expose the smooth skin of his stomach.
Yet Connor was also secretly relieved to find, when they collapsed together in bed, that Sam wanted their usual sweetness.
While there was a lot to like about the in-your-face sexuality on display at the club, Connor still felt most comfortable when it was just the two of them.
After helping each other out of their clothes, they lay naked on top of the covers, kissing deeply.
“Touch me,” Sam murmured, arching his hips until Connor took both their erections in hand and guided his fist up and down. “Oh fuck, Connor...”
Connor increased the pace, and Sam tensed beneath him as the heads of their cocks rubbed together, already beading.
He bent to trail his tongue behind Sam’s ear and sucked on the lobe, relishing the moans his attention elicited.
Sam grazed Connor’s chest with his fingers, lingering over his nipples, raised and taut.
Connor tightened his grip around their shafts and curved his wrist at the end of each stroke, causing Sam to let out a gasp of pleasure and drop his hand to wrap it around Connor’s, guiding him faster.
“I’m close,” Sam panted, biting down on his bottom lip.
Connor was too. “Feels so good,” he managed, his focus slipping.
Neither of them lasted much longer after that.
They came seconds apart with their foreheads pressed together, streaking Sam’s stomach with their shared release.
Connor looked down into Sam’s eyes, and his heart swelled with an almost painful tenderness.
Sam reached up to cup Connor’s face and kissed him, long and slow.
After cleaning up, Connor had promptly crashed, the long drive and the eventful evening sending him immediately to sleep.
But it appeared that hadn’t been the case for Sam.
Connor got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, disoriented in the unfamiliar room. He knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “You all right?”
Sam opened the door, phone aglow in his hand, looking sheepish. “Sorry, I thought the light might disturb you.”
“Can’t sleep?”
Sam shook his head. “I’m wired. I don’t know—coming back here, seeing Felix again. It’s weird, right?”
“No, it’s totally understandable.” Connor flicked off the bathroom light and led Sam back to bed. He spooned him under the covers, holding Sam against his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. I’d rather hear some random trivia. Something low stakes to put my mind at ease.”
“Did you know Finland has the most heavy-metal bands per capita of any country?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Or that, on average, a hundred people choke to death on ballpoint pens each year?”
“I said low stakes. I don’t need any more reasons to lie awake worrying.”
Connor nuzzled against Sam’s neck. “Just don’t put pens in your mouth. I’ve had this discussion with Matty many times.”
“It’s kind of ironic that you’re trained in this super-practical profession while also obsessed with the most useless skill.”
“Useless? People win thousands of dollars on trivia shows.”
“You’re right; knowing that a snail can sleep for three years is an incredibly important life skill.”
Connor chuckled. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Yeah? You looked like you were having fun.”
Connor felt a prickle of fear. “But aren’t you going to miss this? The bright lights and cute boys?”
Sam turned his head to look at Connor. “Not when I’ve got my own cute boy right here.”
“I don’t want to hold you back.”
“You’re not.” Sam stroked his cheek. “The thing with new places is that eventually, the fun fades and real life takes over. And I don’t think I’ve focused enough on what I want real life to look like.”
“And what does real life look like?”
“Hmm... not chasing things that make me sad?”
“I’m with you on that,” Connor said, thinking of the abandoned quest for his father’s approval. “It’s nice to get away and do something different, though, even if it’s only for a weekend. It’s kind of depressing, all the stuff I haven’t done.”
Sam’s eyebrows pulled together. “You’ve had a lot going on.
I don’t know anyone else our age who’s had to deal with what you have.
And I know you take the responsibility of looking after your dad and the business seriously, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up on everything else.
” He shifted so he was facing Connor. “What if I found you an apprentice and we got them trained up? That would free you up a bit, right? Give you some time to go exploring.”
“You’d do that?”
“Maybe we could go exploring together. I’ve always wanted to see Argentina.”
Connor squeezed Sam tight, and he was filled with a rush of love for the man in his arms. “I thought of another fact.”
“Go on.”
“Did you know the term wearing your heart on your sleeve originated from a tradition during the Middle Ages?”
“I didn’t.”
“Once a year, during a Roman festival honoring Juno, men drew names to determine who would be their special lady friend for the coming year. Then they would wear her name on their sleeve until the following festival.”
“Aww.”
“A little less sweet considering the whole thing came about because Emperor Claudius II believed unattached men made better soldiers, so he declared marriage illegal.”
Sam laughed softly. “I’ll let you wear mine.”
Connor’s heart lurched. “What if I already am?”
Sam rested his head against Connor’s chest. “But a year seems kind of arbitrary. We don’t have to put a time limit on it.”
“Agreed. No time limits.” He left a trail of featherlight kisses along Sam’s neck then lay still, his pulse racing. “Sam?”
“Hmm?” He sounded drowsy.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Sam tilted his chin to gaze up at Connor, a shimmer in his warm brown eyes. “I think I’m in love with you too.”