Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MARCUS
Everything feels a little heavier as we roll into Seattle on Sunday afternoon.
As soon as we passed into Washington State, I started keeping a watchful eye out for any suspicious cars following us.
The weather hasn’t helped my paranoia as we drove through a proverbial soup of heavy downpour and thick fog the entire way home.
Everything looks eerie under those conditions.
Now, raindrops pitter-patter on the windshield as I signal and exit I-5, glancing at Jeremy. He’s staring out the window, his hair messy from a car nap and his face brooding. I’ve never seen him broody, and it’s troubling.
Happy? Horny? Indignant? Pissed off? All yes.
But broody? Never.
Of course, I’m in my head too, and it’s not a peaceful place to be.
Jer and I just spent an entire weekend wrapped in each other, and I’ve never been more content but also more off balance.
I initially thought giving in to his allure might get all these feelings out of my system, but it backfired spectacularly.
It did give me some clarity, though. Whether I’m queer or not, I don’t want this to end.
And yeah, maybe we can’t be open here like we were in Cannon Beach, but I can keep it private, right?
Will Jeremy want that too? Is that why he’s been so stoic today?
Because he doesn’t want us to be a secret?
Or maybe he’s changed his mind about us, and the whole blissful weekend was one-sided on my part. My heart rate ramps up at the thought.
I white-knuckle the steering wheel. Jesus, now I’m panicking.
By the time I pull into a parking spot on Jeremy’s street, the tension between us is thick.
I get out of the truck and open the door for him, checking the street for anything unusual, but nothing looks out of the ordinary.
He hops out with his teal messenger bag in tow, his purple Converse landing on the sidewalk beside me with an aggressive slap.
I sigh and walk around to the truck bed, unloading his suitcase.
His oversized hoodie swallows his hands as he places one on his cocked hip.
“Well, I guess—”
“Can I walk you in?” we say at the same time.
Jeremy’s brows furrow in confusion. “You want to come in?”
“If you want me to.”
He squints at me. “Is this a trick question?”
“Is that a trick answer?” I growl back, my patience slipping. Fear is heavy in my stomach, and it’s making my head spin.
Half of my brain is panicking that he wants to break this off. Whatever this is. The other half is screaming that we’re exposed standing out in the open together, that at any second, Ryan or one of his goons could show up.
And what then, Marcus? Standing across from another man on the sidewalk doesn’t make you gay. For fuck’s sake.
“Do you want me to come in or not?” I blurt.
“I-I guess.”
“Fine, then get your cute, stubborn ass inside the building.”
He looks comically affronted, but nevertheless, he wheels his suitcase past me and yanks it up the steps. I glance around to make sure no one is around, and then I follow him.
I wait while Jeremy unlocks his apartment, staring at the ugly hot dog mat. I look up when Jeremy clears his throat, and I realize he’s holding open the door for me. I enter his apartment, and we’re immediately verbally assaulted by Toothless’s ornery meows.
“T,” Jeremy coos, dropping to his knees to pet the cat as it pushes its face against his hand. “I missed you too, bud.”
I’m not much of an animal person—I already have my hands full taking care of other people, let alone a pet—but T’s bubbly purr melts my cold heart.
Finally, Jeremy stands and turns to face me, his expression doubtful. “I’m inside, safe and sound. So I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”
“Are you dismissing me?” I narrow my gaze on him, zeroing in on the way he licks his plush lips. “Now who’s being hot and cold?”
He grits his teeth. “Fine. Fine.” He steps forward and pushes me. I take a startled step back, and the backs of my legs hit the couch, my ass coming to rest on the arm, which puts us closer to eye level.
His gaze is fire. He’s pissed. And I have no fucking clue why. He leans in so close that I can smell the Twizzlers on his breath.
“Now that we’re back, the least you could do is be honest and break this off.”
“What? Jeremy, I—”
“Shut up, Marcus.” I’m not sure why I listen, but my mouth snaps closed. “If you won’t do it, then I will, but not before I give you one more orgasm.” My eyes widen. “You may regret us, but you’ll damn well remember us too.”
The realization that he thinks I’m going to end this hits me directly in the chest, but before I can respond, he pushes me again, and I tumble backward, my back sinking into the plush couch cushions.
Jeremy’s on me in a flash, straddling my waist, his mouth on mine, the neediness in his kiss laced with desperation and sadness, and my slow brain starts to realize that he thinks this will be our last time.
Should this be our last time? For your siblings’ sake. For Jeremy’s sake too. Ryan is a psycho, and you should protect Jeremy, not drag him into your mess.
He grinds his cock hard against mine, and I arch up into him, his eagerness driving my own and expelling the busy thoughts from my brain. His fingers clutch my face, digging into my cheeks. He thrusts against me again, and I groan into his mouth.
He reaches between us and unzips my jeans, shoving his hand in my pants and dragging my cock free. The cool air hits my skin, and I shiver.
His lips curve in an evil smirk, and he rises to his knees, freeing his own dick from his sweats. He spits into his palm and grasps us together, jacking us hard and fast as he leans over me. Our lips connect and our tongues clash, and the pleasure shoots through my veins like a drug.
I have no time to think before I come with a loud grunt, blowing my load all over my T-shirt.
Jeremy leans back slightly, breaking our kiss, and his breaths pick up as he watches me, his teal eyes fixated on my cock while it unloads on my stomach.
His hand quickens and he follows me quickly, cum erupting between my dick and his fist, oozing through his fingers.
“What the fuck was that?” I pant. Jeremy sits taller, still straddling me, but turns his face away. “Look at me, Starlight.”
“Tell me why you call me that.” His head snaps around, and I see that his eyes are swimming with unshed tears.
“You’re scared.”
He doesn’t answer.
I lay a gentle hand on his wrist. “You think this is over?” He stays silent, and it speaks volumes. “I’m not ending it, Jeremy. Are you?” I swallow. “I won’t lie that you need to be patient with me. I have a lot to deal with, but I still want to . . . see where this goes.”
His features soften as he studies me, like he’s searching for a lie in my eyes. But I’m not lying. I don’t want to stop. This feels good. Right. But also wrong. I can’t explain it, but I don’t want to lose him while I figure it out.
“Why do you call me Starlight?” he asks, his voice soft.
I wipe a tear from his cheek with my thumb. “When I saw you at The Pegasus, you were wearing so much glitter, like your skin was made of stars.” My voice catches. “You were so fucking beautiful. Like an—”
“Don’t say an angel.”
My mouth quirks with a smile. “Like a Twilight vampire.”
He huffs a laugh. “Better.” Then he clears his throat, glancing down between us. “That was a weird conversation to have with our dicks out.”
“A little.”
We tuck ourselves away, then Jeremy leads me to his bedroom to give me a shirt from his closet, eyeing me as I put it on. He giggles at the skintight fit and places a hand on my waist where the shirt rides up, tracing the line of my Adonis belt.
“I have something that’ll fit you a bit better.” He opens his dresser drawer and fishes out an oversized Seattle Mariners shirt.
“Why do you have a shirt this large?” I ask as I change.
“I keep a lot of clothes from exes,” he says with a shrug, and I stiffen, wrinkling my nose at the offending garment. “Aww, big guy, you jealous?”
I give him a dark look. “Let’s just say this is going into the trash when I get home.”
“You better not, or I’ll make you wear the crop top instead.” He pouts, that fucking perfect pink lip sticking out. “I like shirts that cover my—” Jeremy stops, and my eyes drop to his hip, where I know his scar is covered. “My ass,” he finishes.
“C’mon.” I grab his hand and lead him back into the living room. I glance out the window. It’s dark now, and the red and green from the traffic light at the end of the block casts an eerie glow.
“You’re not leaving?” he asks.
“Do you want me to leave?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
We start up a movie, and Jeremy lies down on the couch with his head on my thigh. I run my fingers through his silver hair. Toothless jumps up onto the couch and settles on my lap, and I stroke him slowly, taking comfort in his soft fur.
Maybe this can be our place, like Cannon Beach was. Maybe here, in Jeremy’s apartment, at least for now, we can be cozy and safe.