Chapter 13
To say I was hurt and surprised when I felt Shane pull back from my hand would be an understatement.
He didn’t want this. I was pushing him too fast. This was too much, too soon for him.
He would leave and that would be the last of whatever this thing was that was brewing between us.
Anxiety and sadness bloomed dreadfully in my chest, but I bit those feelings back and attacked his mouth instead.
When he kissed me back with just as much intensity, I felt like I could breathe again. But it didn’t stop me from making sure he was okay. “You still with me?” His hazel eyes were hooded with lust; a storm of desire brewed there as I continued to lightly stroke him.
His hands went to the waistband of my pants, deftly unfastened everything and slid them down my legs along with my boxers in one less-than graceful move. “Yeah, I’m with you, but I needed you to be with me.” His words were raspy and flowed like liquid desire over my body.
He wrapped his strong hand around my cock and I returned the favor. “I’m definitely with you, but if you keep touching me like that, I won’t be with you for long.”
“I can’t hold out much longer, either.” We both looked down and watched in awe as we touched each other – a mixture of reverence and need.
“Fuck…” Shane growled on a long hard thrust into my palm.
“I’m coming…” I swallowed his words, sealing my lips over his as the hot jets of his orgasm flowed like lava over my hand.
“Oh shit…that’s too fucking hot.” Shane’s hips moved erratically as he continued to come on my hand. “Oh fuck…” I gritted through a clenched jaw and Shane’s hand loosened just a touch, gliding smoothly over my cock.
“Oh, my God… yes… just like that…fuck…Shane.” His name tumbled from my mouth like a curse – a beautifully tortured curse.
We looked down at the mess between us, not sure what to say. “Wow,” was the only word my brain could process.
“Yeah,” Shane agreed before kissing me, nibbling on my lower lip.
I looked into his eyes, searching for how he felt. “I guess this means…I mean, what does this–”
Cutting me off before I could finish saying anything, he repeated my words from earlier, calming my racing heart. “We’re still us. Just more honest now.” Shane’s satisfied and happy smile settled everything in me that was unsettled. He was right.
Now we were an us. That thought forced a similar smile to pull at my lips.
Our smiles vanished when we heard a car door slam shut. “Shit. My mom’s home.” I jumped from the bed, tossed him a small towel to clean up, and grabbed one for myself. We were both dressed in seconds, just in time to hear my mom call up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey, boys. Shane, are you staying for dinner?” It was a question she had asked hundreds of times.
Shane was kind of a permanent fixture around here – except for the last few months.
His recent return made Mom happy to see we had been able to work out whatever issue caused us to fight in the first place.
Shane looked over at me, unsure of what he should say. I nodded and laughed before answering Mom. “Yeah, he is Mom. We’ll be down in a minute. Just finishing up studying.”
“So is that what we were doing?” Shane joked as he padded – no swaggered – to the door.
With his hand hovering over the doorknob, I put my palm against the door, locking him between it and my body.
Snaking my arm around his waist from behind, I felt him melt into me.
I rested my chin on his shoulder, inhaled his scent – a mixture of sweat and sex that had me hardening again.
“Somehow, telling her that we were busy jerking each other off might make for awkward dinner conversation.” I licked and nibbled at his neck and swiped my hand under his shirt, up over his warm chest.
“Wanna study again tomorrow?” he nearly moaned, tilting his head to the side, offering his neck up to my roving mouth.
“Fuck, yeah.” I ground myself up against his ass before pulling away. “But let’s eat first, yeah?”
He mumbled something as he nodded his head. We both had to readjust ourselves before walking down the stairs to join my parents for dinner.
They didn’t suspect anything was different, and if they did, they didn’t say anything – that night or every other night that Shane was over studying. Since it was the end of the school year, it was the perfect explanation.
We studied a lot over the next few days, but with school ending and senior finals looming, we actually did do our schoolwork.
Work first then play, we’d joke with one another.
But to be honest, it was the after-play moments that I enjoyed the most. Those were the moments when I felt like we were really connecting. I caught myself daydreaming about those times throughout my day and night – long after Shane had already left for the night.
He hadn’t been gone longer than fifteen minutes before my phone vibrated on my nightstand as I laid there. A smug grin spread across my face as I picked up the call. “Miss me already?”
I expected to hear a “fuck off” or a soft “yeah” like I usually did, but instead, the muffled sound of angry tears filtered over the line.
Fear shot through me. Did his dad find out about us?
He’d already confided that being found out by his parents was his greatest fear; it was one that I understood. I feared for his safety daily.
He still didn’t say anything, which only made me grow colder, more afraid. “Where are you? You’re scaring me Shane.”
“In my car.” His cryptic response didn’t help abate my fear, but at least he’d said something.
“And where is your car?” My words were clipped, serious as I moved around the room, throwing on a shirt and shoes.
“Turning down your block,” he responded just as I peeked out my window, seeing his car speed toward my house. Something was definitely up, and by the sound of his screeching wheels, I could tell it wasn’t good.
I called out to my parents that I’d be back later and they barely lifted their heads from the TV, waving at me as I stormed out the door. Quickly, I slid into my seat and Shane jetted away from my house before I could even click the seatbelt in place.
We drove for a solid five minutes before either one of us said anything, letting the pulsing music fill the silence.
Shane pulled down what would appear to most as a random side street, but I knew that it was the entrance to the town little league fields.
It was past nine on Friday night, so there was no one around, and all the lights had already been turned down.
The only glow came from Shane’s car as it pulled into a spot next to one of the many fields.
I let another song play, allowing myself to get lost in the nostalgia that this place held for me – for us. When the lyrics of “Home” by Daughtry began playing, I turned the volume down and laced my fingers together with Shane’s as they rested uneasily on his bouncing thigh.
“Talk to me? Please?” I twisted in my seat, my words carrying an air of hope that he’d open up.
He took a deep breath, squeezed my hand, and turned to face me.
I growled in anger at the red welt covering the left side of his face.
“Fuck, Shane.” I ghosted my fingers over where he’d obviously been slapped and he winced at my touch.
“What happened?” He leaned into my touch as a tear streamed down his cheek.
Grabbing my hand from his face, he pulled it to his mouth, letting his lips linger there as he gathered his words. “Scranton dropped me.”
“What? Why? When?” My world spun around me as the implication of what this meant for him and for us raced in my brain.
“The letter was waiting for me when I got home. In my dad’s hands.” He chuckled humorlessly as he stared blankly out to the field before us. I sat there, quietly, letting him gather his thoughts, trying desperately to ignore the “what ifs” that were parading through my own head.
“He wasn’t happy,” he huffed. “And neither am I,” he added with a touch of sadness as he turned back to face me.
Hanging his head in shame, he averted looking in my eyes.
“I fucked up, Dyl. I fucked everything up, just like I always do.” I couldn’t stand his self-deprecation, the seed of doubt his father planted long ago took root deep in his identity and colored just about everything he did.
I knew when he was out on that field, he was truly happy; I hoped he felt the same when he was with me.
With that thought in mind, I tipped my head to the open field.
“Come on.” I got out of the car and walked around to his side, opening the door and all but pulling him from his seat.
I dragged him out to the outfield. We rested up against the fence, the old, beat up wires uncomfortably supporting us.
With our knees bent and leaned up against one another, we held hands and stared at the field on which we’d spent most of our childhood.
“Remember that time you pegged me in the head.” Absentmindedly, I ran my thumb over my eyebrow where the faint scar was hidden.
Shane chuckled. “Yeah.” He laughed again before adding, “I was fucking pissed at you, though.”
I’d never known that. I just assumed it was his stupid competitive edge coming out in the championship game. He spoke before I could even ask my question.
“Your parents came to the game – hell, they came to every game they could. Since it was the finals, your grandparents were there too with signs and all that shit. The four of them were cheering like fools from the sideline. And then there was me.” The bitterness of those last words couldn’t be missed.
He was jealous and I hadn’t even thought to recognize it as such until that moment.
“Reid was at his own game so I didn’t even have him there to watch me. It’s sad when your younger brother is your biggest fan.”