Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
JAKE
“Would you accompany me on a walk?”
Doren’s face was open and compassionate, and to Jake’s relief, there wasn’t a trace of pity to be found.
“I like the way you talk. You’re so fancy sometimes.” Jake couldn’t keep from smiling, and Doren returned the expression, as if they couldn’t help themself from mirroring him.
When Doren cocked their head with a raised eyebrow, though, he realized he hadn’t answered the question. Jake glanced down at himself and remembered once again that he was only wearing a pair of cotton shorts.
“I need to take a shower and put on some clothes.”
Doren winked and turned back to the bookcase he was working on before, picking up his rag. “Not a problem, I’m not done yet with the dusting!”
Jake couldn’t stop staring at the—as always—shirtless surfer who was cleaning furniture in his temporary home.
It hit him how hot the scenario was, but also ridiculous, like a bad porn scene.
“Sorry, I forgot to do the laundry, but I couldn’t miss work.
Cleaning houses is the only thing paying my bills while I get my PhD in human sexuality. ”
Chuckling, a knot of tension released in Jake’s chest, followed by a strange little jolt of energy. He headed up to the second floor and hopped into the shower.
As the hot water ran down his skin, he reflected on the surprises of the last half hour. On Doren’s kindness and support.
There was something about Doren that was…not of this world? Coming out of the mental illness closet was usually a disaster. Even with close friends.
But Doren hadn’t shut down or run away. They didn’t look down on him or feel sorry for him. They never told him what he should do differently. Instead, they’d offered to help him put up decorations, something that he loved, even if he hadn’t been able to make it happen yet.
Doren had also been very willing to touch him.
Part of him had been so wounded by how disgusted Phil had been by the changes in his body.
They hadn’t been intimate for the last four months they were together, and although Jake wouldn’t blame his depression on anything Phil had done, it certainly hadn’t helped.
Now, here was this person who liked him just the way he was, right now, without reservations. Jake wasn’t sure he liked himself without reservations, but he wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth.
Throwing on his trusty red flannel and a pair of baggy blue jeans, Jake headed back downstairs, to be greeted once more with the sight of his surfer friend.
Doren had produced a long-sleeve t-shirt and shoes from somewhere, although Jake didn’t know from where.
They were still in a bathing suit in December, but this was a little more reasonable.
Doren stared up at Jake as he paused on the staircase, a glint of something mischievous in their eyes.
“What?” Jake asked. “Did I forget to brush my hair or something?”
“No, I just very much enjoy you in that red flannel shirt. You were adorned with it the morning that we first met, and the fit is perfect.”
Warmth sprang to Jake’s neck and face, and he looked down at his belly, where the shirt pulled tight at the button.
He wasn’t sure why Doren liked it so much.
He should get a larger size. Still, at hearing the compliment, a fuzzy sensation whirred in his chest, followed by a similar one in his balls.
“Well, thanks.” Jake reached the foot of the stairs, and taking a chance, reached out his hand. He wanted to touch Doren when he wasn’t in the middle of an emotional breakdown, for once.
Doren took his hand in theirs, pulling him toward the exit, only pausing to give Miranda Priestly a few quick pets. She purred in response.
“She is such a slut for you,” Jake joked.
Doren rolled their eyes. “She recognizes quality when she sees it.”
With that, they were out the door. Other than a few trips to the coffee shop, Jake hadn’t explored Linwood Falls at all. Doren guided him through some adorable side streets containing real treasures.
First off was an adorable stand that sold only lobster rolls, and given that it was December, Jake was surprised that it was open. Luckily for them, the prices were also off-season, and the food was amazing.
Next up was an art gallery in a converted old church.
It was an odd assortment of pieces: some were the seascapes one would expect in a beach town—although very good examples of the genre—but mixed among them was some surprisingly innovative art.
A few abstract sculptures took Jake’s breath away.
He’d always loved sculpture, and in the juxtaposition of cold metal with warm marble, the artist had captured the sense of loneliness that came with wintering in a summer town.
Linwood Falls must have a solid contingent of artists living and working in the area for the gallery to have so many excellent pieces.
A surge of affection filled Jake at the thought of the tiny town.
It was bustling during tourist season, but the people that were here in the winter were the true residents.
They stuck it out, weathering the frigid months every year, because this was their home.
It had been a long time since any place had felt like home. There had been a time when his apartment with Phil filled that need, but it had been months, an entire year maybe, since that had been true.
After they left the gallery behind—Jake had no money to buy anything, especially not at the prices that the artists deserved, although he made note of his favorites—they set out for their final destination, a little path that ran along the coastline just south of the beach.
The way passed by several inlets and outcroppings, and the ground underneath was an uneven bed of gravel and dirt. Jake reached for Doren to steady himself. Once he’d done that, he couldn’t find it in him to let go, instead leaving his arm looped around Doren’s as they walked.
His depression wouldn’t just go away. Jake understood that very well. But something in him had settled during their time out of the house, and now, with Doren’s lithe body pressing against his, it was like he was getting back to his old self.
As they reached the top of a particularly steep incline, Jake forced the chilly December air into his lungs, catching his breath.
“Would you wish to sit for a moment?” Doren asked, pointing to a small wooden bench set between the path and the rocks of the coastline. Jake simply nodded, and Doren guided the two of them over to rest.
Gratitude filled Jake that Doren didn’t take their arm back. Even better, they leaned closer to Jake, and although the wooden seat was freezing underneath them, the sun warmed their skin as they gazed out onto the water.
They sat in silence for a while, but finally, Jake had to say something.
“I really like you.”
He’d wanted to project confidence, but his voice shook as the words left his tongue. Phil had only broken up with him—abandoned him, really—just a few weeks before, and he wasn’t exactly suave and self-assured in the wake of it.
But Doren…they were worth it, no matter how hard it was.
“I like you, too,” Doren said, leaning their head close to Jake’s. “I haven’t been so at ease with another person in a long time. I would very much like to explore this further.”
“I’d like that, too,” Jake said. The dazzling smile that Doren gave him at those words made Jake’s heart race. The surfer was so beautiful, and Jake could drown in those ocean-blue eyes.
But he did like Doren, which meant he had to be honest.
“But being with me is hard. You have to understand that. In some ways, I’m lucky. My depression has never made me suicidal. I’ve never been catatonic.”
Doren slid his hand down to grasp Jake’s, squeezing tightly, and waves of warmth and support emanated across their connection.
“But it never goes away. There are periods of time when it’s less…
present? But it’s never fully gone. And at other times—like right now—it’s this looming creature, just out of sight, just around the corner, waiting to pounce.
Or maybe like a backpack full of heavy stones.
You adjust to the weight somewhat, but it still slows you down, and after a week of lugging it around, you don’t feel like going anywhere anymore. ”
Doren stared deep into Jake’s eyes. There was no sign of fear on their face, nor of pity. All Jake found there was acceptance.
Neither of them said anything for a long moment, until Jake flushed with self-consciousness at the extended eye contact.
“I wouldn’t blame you if it were too much for you.
I wouldn’t hate you if you decided this was it.
I wish…I wish I could treat things lightly, that we could hook up or whatever and not think too hard about any of it, but I wasn’t great at that in the best of times.
And these are not the best of times for me. ”
Doren reached up and caressed Jake’s cheek with their free hand. Their palm was warm against his skin, and it grounded him. He breathed in the cool salt air and waited.
“I don’t wish to hook up. I don’t wish to keep things light. The future is uncertain, but I wish to know you better. The real you. Not a facade you erect because you believe I’m unable to handle the fullness of who you are.”
Jake was speechless. No one had ever spoken to him like that, had ever declared their intentions openly and with such naked reverence. So he did something that he’d never done before as well.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Doren’s. Two amazing things happened when he did.
The first was the kiss. Doren’s lips were soft and smooth, and as they connected, Doren unclasped Jake’s hand and snaked their arm around his waist. There was a magical closeness Jake couldn’t recall from any previous first kiss, like they were one being, kissing and breathing and moving together.
The second was the ocean, as suddenly saltwater spray doused the two of them as a wave hit the rocks.
Then another. Then another. If Jake had been able to think at all, he might have noted that, before this moment, the waters had been quite calm.
The breeze had been light, nothing to drive an unexpected series of large waves.
But Jake wasn’t able to think. Instead, he was luxuriating in the sensation of kissing his beautiful surfer, the salt spray around them only enhancing the experience.
Tentative at first, the kiss soon grew more intense.
Doren reached their hand up to press against Jake’s neck.
They had an unexpected strength, and the feeling of being directed, being pulled, was an instant turn-on for Jake.
He was hard, his aching cock pressing against his jeans painfully, but he didn’t mind.
The sensation was almost a memory to him.
One of the side effects of his antidepressants was that he didn’t respond as quickly or intensely as he once had.
It was a tradeoff, and the drugs had improved his life, but it wasn’t necessarily fun not to be able to get fully hard. Or to take forever to come.
Well, he was fully hard now, and all it had taken was Doren’s firm hand on his neck.
He was devouring Doren now, like a starving man at a buffet. He might never get enough of them. They tasted unlike anyone Jake had ever kissed before, a subtle mix of sweet and salty, almost like a salted caramel latte.
Doren was delicious.
When yet another spray of seawater hit them—this one absolutely dousing both of them—they broke apart.
“I don’t know if the ocean approves of us,” Jake said, licking the last of Doren’s taste from his lips.
“Oh, I don’t agree,” Doren replied, turning their head to gaze out at the sun-drenched ocean’s surface. “On the contrary, I think she gives her blessing.”
“You think?” Jake leaned in closer to Doren, pressing against their side, and as if by instinct Doren put their arm around him and pulled him in.
“I’m certain of it.”
Behind them, someone coughed and cleared their throat. Jake spun around to find Dorothea about three feet away, a large pair of gray military-style binoculars hanging around her neck.
“Jake, sweetheart! Is this the beau you’ve told me about?”
Jake stammered, unable to get a word out, but Doren had no such compunctions. They stood up and flashed Jake a mischievous smile.
“So you’ve spoken of me, have you?”
Dorothea barked out a laugh and stepped forward, kissing Doren on each cheek. A shock of nerves shot through Jake, although he wasn’t sure why. “He’s only told me about his mysterious handsome surfer who is impervious to the cold.”
Doren rolled their eyes at Jake. “I’ve frolicked in the ocean in Maine since I was an infant. This is practically balmy.”
Somehow, Jake recovered from his bashful reaction at being caught kissing on a public bench and stood up. “Speaking of the cold, what are you doing out here, Dorothea? Isn’t it a bit chilly?”
Dorothea smiled and reached inside her sweater to tug on the waffle texture of a thick undergarment. “Wool long johns, dear. I’ve been in Maine a long time, too. I wouldn’t want to miss my shift at McKendrick’s point.”
Jake cocked his head as he watched Dorothea steal their place on the bench, lifting the binoculars to her eyes.
“What shift?”
“My sea monster-watching shift, sweetheart. Several sightings have occurred here, so the Society tries to have someone on duty on this bench for at least a few hours every day.”
Jake couldn’t help but laugh at the notion of a bunch of elderly townies taking turns sitting in the winter cold for the sake of catching sight of a mythical creature, but when he did Dorothea shot him a deadly glance, communicating just how serious she was.
Uncomfortable at her response, Jake turned to Doren, who had gone as white as a sheet.
“Sightings?” the surfer asked, gripping the back of the bench with both hands as if to steady themself. What was wrong with Doren? Dorothea was being silly, maybe, but it was harmless.
“Oh yes, dear. We’ve had at least one sighting a year here since the founding of the Society. Last year, the tentacles got quite close to the shore.”
Doren said nothing in response, but couldn’t seem to keep their gaze off Dorothea even as she surveyed the horizon with her binoculars. After a minute or two of awkward silence, Jake threaded his arm through Doren’s to interrupt their brooding.
“Are you okay?”
Doren blinked several times as if returning from a dream, then gave Jake a small smile. “I’m fine. Just lost myself in my thoughts there for a moment.”
Jake leaned over and brushed his lips against Doren’s cheek. Doren laced their fingers through Jake’s in response.
“Should we get some lunch?” Jake asked, and Doren nodded. They headed off down the path, but Jake couldn’t help but notice that, as they walked away, Doren’s gaze kept flitting back to the old woman on the bench.