Chapter Nine
Lachlan’s heart skipped as he came face to face with Tim and Ryan’s mum. He jerked to a stop and stammered something, his eyes locked with Tim’s as Daz bumped into his back.
“Lachie!” Mrs. Bullock—no, Ms. Parker—opened her arms. “How are you, darl?”
He tore his gaze from Tim and hugged her, smelling her flowery shampoo, then stepped back. “Hi, Ms. Parker.”
“Oh, stop. It’s Maria.” She shook her head with an exasperated smile. “All you boys are grown up. And Daz! Getting married! It’s about time one of you took the plunge.”
As Maria hugged the others, Tim shook their hands, not even glancing at Lachlan.
Does he think about me on my knees for him when he looks at me?
Sparks zipped through Lachlan at the thought. No one knew what he and Tim had done, and he couldn’t deny the thrill that forbidden knowledge gave him.
I know what you look like when you come.
He swallowed roughly and practically ran to the kitchen for a glass of water. He ran the tap, waiting as if the water temp would ever get colder than tepid in the summer.
Jesus, what was wrong with him? He couldn’t be thinking those thoughts. Not here. Not anywhere. He’d done fairly well at work the past couple of weeks, especially since Tim had seemingly kept away from him as much as possible.
But seeing Tim without warning had lowered his defenses. He felt like he was stuck in the Croc, swimming uselessly against the undertow.
“Bye, Lachie!” Maria called.
“Bye!” he dutifully called back.
Ryan appeared in the kitchen a minute later, and Lachlan said, “Didn’t know you were hanging with your parents today.”
Ryan grunted and opened the fridge, which creaked ominously. Inside were takeaway containers and condiments, and of course beer. Ryan wordlessly tossed a stubby to Lachlan and opened his own, downing half of it.
“You right?” Lachlan asked quietly.
Cam came in and grabbed a beer. “Your mum’s still looking fit as.”
Ryan screwed up his face. “Stop.”
“When did your old man get back?” Brodie asked, coming in on Cam’s heels.
“Don’t wanna talk about it.”
Brodie shrugged and grabbed a few beers, and Lachlan recognized Sounder’s voice in the house now too. The gang was all there. He was in no rush to make small talk with them, so he leaned against the sink, which was full of dishes.
Ryan didn’t join the others in the living room, where they were laughing loudly about something. With a sigh, he stood beside Lachlan.
Lachlan waited.
Ryan shifted uncomfortably and finally said, “That was weird.”
“In a good way, or…?”
His brows met. “Kind of. Which makes it even weirder. They wanted to clear the air, I guess.”
“And did they?”
Ryan barked a laugh. “You could say that. Found out more than I ever wanted to know. Mum’s—” He stopped and lowered his voice. “Mum and Woz date other people at the same time. They’re poly. And Dad didn’t want to be, and that’s why he divorced her.”
“Oh! Wow.” Lachlan didn’t expect that.
“And Dad’s—” Ryan stopped. “Nah, never mind.”
Lachlan resisted the urge to beg for the info. “I’m glad you all talked.”
Sighing, Ryan fiddled with a bottle cap. “I guess it was good to hear some of it? I dunno. It’s fuckin’ weird.”
“What is?”
“Like, your parents being people. Not just your parents. I guess this is what happens when you get older.”
“I guess so.” The pang of grief and longing made Lachlan’s breath catch.
“Shit, sorry.” Ryan’s warm hand was tight on his arm. “Wasn’t thinking.”
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. I’m glad you and your parents had a good talk.”
“Dunno if it was good. I guess so? It wasn’t as bad as I thought.” He shook his head. “Fuck, I need to get pissed. You with me, bro?”
“Let’s do it.”
Ryan laughed. “Really convincing. We’ll get you to have fun yet. Just wait.”
Jesus, it was loud.
Lachlan knew he was being a dag, but even in high school and uni he’d never been much for clubs or concerts. Maybe because his mates lived for heavy metal, and it’d never been his thing.
But this night was about Daz—well, more about Ryan having missed out on Bali—and Lachlan was going to have fun.
He was going to stop worrying about permanent hearing damage, and he was most definitely going to stop thinking about Tim and wondering what else he and Mrs.—Maria—had been talking to Ryan about.
He was also going to stop thinking about what Tim was doing and if he was alone, and how good and peaceful it’d been sitting together in Bali talking about this and that and having a laugh…
“You right?” Ryan screamed in Lachlan’s ear.
“Just buggered! Been a long week.”
Eyes narrowed, Ryan said, “Nah, it’s more than that. What’s going on?’
“Nothing!” Lachlan insisted too forcefully.
“Yeah, nah. Something’s up with you. Haven’t seen you this distracted since—” Ryan’s brows shot up. “Holy shit, are you seeing someone?”
“What? No!” Lachlan’s palms were sweaty. Ryan’s eyes on him were sly—and all too shrewd.
“Yeah, you are. Is it that silver fox from Bali?”
“No!”
“Okay. Do I know him?”
Oh, Jesus. He felt sick.
With a laugh, Ryan slapped his back. “Good on ya!” He pushed a shot into Lachlan’s hand. “Whoever it is, he’d better be treating you better than Sinner did.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Lachlan gamely downed the cheap whisky and gave Ryan a grin that felt painfully fake as the opening act finished up.
Was Tim treating him better than Julian had? The two relationships couldn’t be compared—although they were both secrets, so maybe Lachlan did have a type.
But he was the one who’d manipulated Tim in Bali. Taking another shot as the boys made for the mosh pit, Lachlan wished he was anywhere else.
By one a.m., the concert was mercifully over, and they’d piled into a minivan taxi back to Barkers. The roads were empty, and Lachlan watched the dark, sleeping town roll by. He only snapped to attention when he realized they were stopped at the beach and climbing out.
He’d expected the taxi to take them to Ryan, Jacko, and Cam’s house, and then he’d just walk over the hill and down into the valley to his place. Ryan was shoving at him, and Lachlan got out, asking, “Why are we here?”
The taxi drove away as the boys headed toward the ramps down to the sand. The night wind was cool, especially by the water. It was deserted, the dark shadow of the tower looming under the starry night. Lachlan hurried to catch up, his buzz quickly dissipating.
“Aren’t you ready for bed?” he asked Sounder, who’d gotten his nickname for famously loving to sleep.
But Sounder said, “It’s Saturday night!”
Jacko scoffed. “Got some place better to be, Lachie?”
There was an undercurrent of tension in the question, so Lachlan said, “’Course not.”
“Don’t ya remember all those nights we snuck out to the beach?” Daz asked. “I’ve gotta enjoy my last weeks of freedom!”
Lachlan silently wondered why he was getting married if that’s how he felt about it but knew better than to ask aloud. That was typically how blokes talked about marriage, and it was mostly a joke. He was enough of a killjoy already.
Jacko slung an arm over his shoulders. “Loosen up, mate!” He affectionately ruffled Lachlan’s hair. “You’re so uptight lately.”
It was true, and Lachlan knew his old mates meant well. They all left their shoes at the bottom of the ramp, the sand cool and soft between Lachlan’s toes as they walked farther.
“Didn’t getting some dick in Bali help?” Daz asked with complete sincerity.
“Yeah, how was it?” Sounder asked.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Lachlan said as his traitorous brain wondered what kissing Tim would be like.
“Okay, something I’ve always wondered,” Cam said. “Are guys better at giving head than chicks?”
“Why, you want to find out?” Brodie asked as the others howled with teasing laughter.
Cam rolled his eyes. “I’m just asking! Because if you have your own dick, are you better at sucking them?”
“Maybe?” Lachlan answered. “I’ve never been with a woman, so I can’t compare.”
“I bet it’s easier to find a bloke to suck you off. Don’t have to put in so much work,” Sounder said, pulling a half bottle of vodka from his jacket pocket and cracking the top.
“Legend!” Daz exclaimed as he took the bottle for a swig before passing it on. He asked Sounder, “That chick still not giving it up?”
Sounder groaned. “Not yet. She’s cool, but how much more talkin’ do we have to do? My balls are going to fall off.”
Lachlan had no idea where or how Sounder had gotten the bottle at the club, but it didn’t matter. It was here now making the rounds. Lachlan took the smallest of sips before passing it to Ryan.
Daz was right that it was just like when they were kids, sneaking out to the beach with bottles swiped from their parents or bought by an older sibling.
Bel had bought for them a few times until one night when Cam had jumped off the lifeguard tower and broken his leg when they were sixteen. Lachlan could still remember the shinbone jutting through the skin, starkly white in the moonlight as Cam wailed.
They’d had to ring triple-zero, Lachlan with the phone on speaker as the patient woman told him what to do. Ryan had been living on the Gold Coast then, and it had only been Lachlan remaining as the cops rocked up along with the ambulance.
Cam had told him to run with the others as they scattered into the wind, knowing Barkers and its hidey holes too well to be chased down.
But Lachlan was keeping pressure on the wound with his shirt.
He couldn’t take off and leave his mate.
He’d been lucky the cops had taken pity on him and not arrested him once Cam was off to the ED.
Though the police taking him home and waking up his parents hadn’t felt like any kind of mercy. Lachlan shuddered now to remember his parents’ disappointment that he’d been drinking and Bel peeking out of her bedroom, wide-eyed.
“Bro!” Daz elbowed him.
“Sorry, what?”
The boys laughed, and Ryan swigged the vodka and said, “See? He’s still thinkin’ about this bloke from Bali!”