Chapter 03 OLLIE
I choose a plain white T-shirt—to match Fen’s pants—and worry the whole time I’m gone that Zachary will pull his head out of his ass and show up after all. I leave my navy cargo shorts, because no one told me to change them, and hurry back to the porch. When I return, Fen is perched on the railing, and even among the floral cacophony, he’s a bright, wicked thing against the darkening sky. Whatever brief panic had him curling in on himself earlier is gone, replaced by fluttering lashes and a sassy pout as Sadie circles him with her camera.
“Where do you want me?“
I ask, shaking out the prickle in my palms as Sadie directs me to approach, then positions me between his knees to gaze into his gray eyes. They’re the only soft thing about him, liquid with some hidden vulnerability behind the mischievous sparkle.
“You can touch me,“
he says, taking pity on my awkwardness, and bites his lip to hide a smile when I place my tentative hands on his thighs.
“Good. Beautiful.“
The telltale click of Sadie’s camera reminds me we’re not alone. “Feel free to talk. Get to know each other. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Are you having fun, Ollie?“
Fen’s voice is burnt sugar, a caramel caress, and my fingers twitch toward his hips.
“This is the strangest first date I’ve ever been on,“
I admit, then blush. What am I doing? This isn’t a date, and I’m only a stand-in. But whatever wild impulse led me to offer myself up, I couldn’t let him leave disappointed. Or escape his gravity if I tried.
“Because of the camera? Or because I have a cock?” he asks.
Heat rushes up my neck, and only a supreme force of will stops my eyes from dropping to his crotch, inches from my waist. Half a step, and I’d be flush against him. He could wrap his legs around me and—
“Both. But,“
I hurry to explain, “not in a bad way.”
“Glad to hear it,“
he murmurs, then tilts his head. “Why’d you volunteer, anyway?”
Because you’re wearing lace panties that match your hair. Because you’re too beautiful to be lonely. Because I’m tired of keeping this part of myself locked up. But that’s too much, way too soon, so I settle for a smaller piece of honesty: “Because I find you fascinating.”
He blinks, a slow sweep of sandy lashes, and brings his arms up to circle my neck. “Good answer.”
“Ooh, I love that.“
Sadie nods in my peripheral vision, then squints down at her camera screen. “Can you move your hands to his hips, Ollie? If that’s okay with Fen?”
Fen flashes her a quicksilver grin.
“Should we exchange our safe words?”
“Regular words are fine.“
She answers his smile with her own. “We’re all adults here.”
“I would absolutely love to have your hands on my hips, Ollie.”
“Okay,“
I breathe, and then there’s lace under my fingers, and warm skin, and I angle my body away so Sadie doesn’t catch my dick filling on camera. Fen’s thumbs stroke the short hairs at the back of my neck, making a mockery of my struggle to keep my own hands still.
“How’d you end up in Carbondale?“
I ask, grasping for a safer subject. I half expect him to tell me he fell through a portal from the Feywild. Creatures like him don’t belong in backwater places like Illinois.
“I came for school. Same as you, I’m guessing.”
“What are you studying?“
It’s hard to imagine him doing anything as mundane as walking the halls of the science building or taking notes on a laptop.
“Dance.“
He does a little seated shimmy that brings me closer to his body. “Turns out, I’m not totally musically incompetent as long as no one is asking me to create the music.”
“That makes even less sense.“
When his brow furrows, I hasten to explain: “They must have better performing arts schools in New York or LA. Somewhere with more—”
“Queer people?”
“Well, yes, but also culture? Opportunity? This place seems so…small for you. Did you grow up around here?”
“Do you want the long version or the short version?”
“I want everything you’re willing to tell me about yourself,“
I admit. Surprise sparks across his features, and my hands tighten instinctively on his hips when he leans back to study me.
“Why, Oliver Earhart. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.“
The words are playfully pitched, but genuine wonder shines in his smile. I duck my head to hide another blush, and catch Sadie’s delighted expression out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m loving this,“
she says, “and I hate to interrupt. But I’d like to try another spot before we get sucked into Fen’s life story.”
Fen slides off the railing, bringing his body flush with mine. Sadie snaps a few more quick shots while I stammer and back away, then sends us to the porch swing. She has me sit first, then asks Fen if he’s comfortable snuggling in at my side. Instead, he throws himself down on the seat with his head in my lap and his feet propped on the opposite chain.
“How about this?“
he asks, while I beg my dick to behave.
“Gorgeous. You good, Ollie?”
I manage a helpless nod. Fen rolls his head to grin up at me, and I lose the battle with my blood flow.
“Careful,“
I warn, and slip my hand into his hair to hold him still. His eyes flash, the camera clicks, and my breath shudders out of me in surrender.
“I was born in LA,“
he says, picking up the thread of our conversation with all the satisfied nonchalance of a cat who’s discovered the cream. “I moved to the Midwest with my mom when she got tired of my father’s string of mistresses. Her family is out here.“
His tone warns me not to pick at the parental thread, so I stick to the script we agreed on.
“That must have been quite the culture shock.”
He shrugs, jostling my thigh, and my fingers tighten in his hair.
“I was only eleven and still a good boy back then.“
With a flutter of lashes, he bites his lower lip, and I shake my head and fight to keep my hips from shifting. I’m not going to be able to stand up until Sadie leaves. “Maybe I would have come out sooner if I’d stayed in LA, but high school in good ol’ Hayward wasn’t that bad.”
Hayward is an even smaller town than the one I grew up in. I remember my brother, Ellis, defiant in the dining room, facing our parents, and squaring off against bullies with his back to a row of lockers while I sprinted down the hall to reach his side.
“Really? When did you come out? I mean, if you want to tell me.”
“We’re getting to know each other, right? Anyway, it wasn’t a big dramatic scene or anything. My mom and I were close enough that she kind of assumed without me ever having to make a thing of it. As far as school went—I joined the cheerleading squad.”
The image of Fen with pom-poms in a tiny pleated skirt flashes through my head, even though I know male cheerleaders have different uniforms.
“That’s—“
I clear my throat. “Wow, okay.”
“I was the only boy on the team, but those girls fucking loved me, and with that kind of high school royalty at my back, no one dared start shit. I got to shake my ass in public and ride the bus to all the games with hunky jocks, so it was a win-win all around.”
Hunky jocks? Is that what he’s into?
“I played basketball in high school,“
I blurt. “And ran track. But I was never good enough at either to be called a jock.“
The last comes out on a sigh, and he bursts out laughing, his head rolling back to reawaken my delusional dick.
“Stop that.“
But a rueful smile tugs at my lips.
“You were really cutting into your hot-nerd cred for a second there,“
he teases.
He thinks I’m hot?
We grin at each other like idiots—or like one idiot and one incredibly sexy man-child—until a roll of thunder snaps us out of our mutual admiration. A gust of wind lifts my hair, cool along the sheen of sweat on my neck, and Sadie claps her hands.
“The storm’s almost here,“
she says, peering out across the yard. “You two willing to get a little wet?”
Fen betrays me by sitting up to follow her gaze, and I hike a knee up to hide my arousal, using their distraction to adjust myself as subtly as possible.
“Wet T-shirt contest?“
The challenge is tossed over his shoulder with a knowing smirk.
“White pants,“
I counter, cocking a brow and jerking my chin toward his attire.
“Even better.“
He leans in and puts his mouth to my ear. “I know you’re dying to see what’s under them.”
Sparks race along my skin, and I turn my head to whisper a confession into the heated space between our lips. “I want to kiss you.”
His breath hitches, and my heart soars, before he shakes his head and backs away.
“Save it for the rain,“
he says. “Hasn’t Hollywood taught you anything?”