Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Yosh
His index finger loops around my middle finger.
Right here in plain sight, where no one sees. It’s enough of a tease to make me ache. Too little to get caught.
The boulevard at Flamingo Beach is lined with palm trees on both sides. Their leaves rustle overhead, almost touching; close enough to feel each other, but the wind keeps them apart.
Tom tips his chin toward the sky, then glances at me. He sees art in those trees.
I think he wants us to be like them.
We’d spent the entire weekend in my pre-renovation house, or Villa Crumble Aparté, as he likes to call it.
Our days had been filled with all kinds of tiny discoveries. How he takes his tea. The way he kisses after. How quickly it starts to feel normal to have him around.
The nights were even more intimate. We lay tangled on beach towels, tasting, our hearts knocking against each other underneath the pale yellow moon.
Sometimes in bed. Sometimes on beach towels in the garden, pointing out constellations.
We learned the intimacy of skin in the dark, to match our breathing until it felt like there was no skin at all.
He told me about songs he never finished. How he could never find the right words for feelings like these.
I told him my ambition sometimes got the better of me, so I stayed late at work or hid in books to forget how lonely I felt.
He confessed he’d used sex with strangers to fill that void.
I admitted I’d done the same.
Then he said he loved how quiet it was in my garden of Eden.
I said I loved the sound of his laugh against my chest.
Sparkles had appeared in his eyes, fingernails digging into my arm like a content little cat. No words were needed after that, just the unstoppable hunger to kiss and the necessity of knowing we were sucking in the same air.
A drum in my chest is getting louder. Before it was his heartbeat, now it’s the bass of the music coming from the beach club.
We walk past the line outside SeaBreeze. Tom flashes his ID, security checks the guestlist, and waves us in.
SeaBreeze looks nothing like the minimalist beach club where I normally meet Erin and Laurent for dinner.
The DJ’s playing Afro-house at the ocean side of the infinity pool. Neon lights turn everything pink and yellow, dancers in tribal body paint twirling flaming rings in the air.
It feels like we’ve stepped onto another planet, and ironically, it’s exactly what I need to land back on earth. Erin hadn’t been kidding. Laurent and Calvin organized the party of the year.
“Sweet place.” Tom’s eyes fly over the crowd, he’s probably looking for Calvin.
Callie Coconut is either drinking with his friends or preparing his set on the pool deck, now transformed into a backstage area.
Maybe both.
Work hard, party harder. The McKenna way of life, until one of them crashes.
“What do you want to do?” I ask.
“Find Cal. Stay for a couple of drinks. Be polite. Then I’ll drive you back to West Cove. Maybe you can show me one of those hidden beaches on the way.”
“Tempting,” I say. “But I need to be back at Arcadia early. Big interview with the board first thing in the morning, remember?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have you tucked in early, love.”
I’m about to say something when a pair of soft hands cover my eyes. Vanilla and patchouli. Only one person wears that perfume.
My lips form a smile.
“Cupcake!”
I scoop Tiffy into a tight hug and spin her around, her laugh humming against my chest. Chin resting on her shoulder, I catch Naomi watching us, arms crossed.
“We missed you at Pina Koko’s happy hour last Friday.”
“Sorry, girls. Arcadia wouldn’t let me escape.” It unsettles me how easily the lie escapes when it comes to Tom.
He steps up beside me and kisses them both on the cheek.
“Ah, my favorite women on the island,” he says, smooth as ever.
Right on cue, he changed into his stage persona the moment we passed security. I watched it happen in real time. It only took seconds.
Tom turns to me.
“I’m off to find Cal. Catch you in a bit.”
He hooks the tips of his fingers in mine as he disappears into the crowd. I watch him leave, probably a second too long. When I turn back, Tiffy’s eyes are on me.
“So… what’s the story with you and McKenna?”
“Not now.”
“So you’re his babysitter tonight?”
Naomi laughs, lifting two shots from Zion’s tray.
“He can handle himself just fine—”
I look over my shoulder just as he hauls himself onto the bar. Tom dances like he never left the stage, bottles in both hands, pouring liquor into open mouths.
He glows like a firefly; bright out in the open, mine to protect when the lights go out.
“Really?” Tiffy’s brows turn asymmetrical. “That’s your definition of fine?”
They’re clearly enjoying the show. I’m not.
“I need to check on him.”
I start to turn away, Tiffy grabs my arm.
“Don’t. Don’t start the I can fix him thing. He needs to figure this out on his own. What's going on, Yosh? This isn’t like you.”
I glance at her hand on my arm, then lift my gaze to hers. I slip free without a word and disappear into the crowd.
She doesn’t know him like I do, and right now, I’m not in the mood for a reality check.
I zigzag my way through the mass of people. Tom has already jumped behind the bar. He’s in bartender mode now, a vodka bottle between two fingers, another braced against his palm. He throws one into the air, catching it behind his back.
The girls beside me squeal.
I turn away, fairly certain annoyed is written all over my face.
I rub just beside my ear, trying to ease the pressure that’s been building there since the music kicked up. Tom spots me right away.
“Jealous, Doctor?” he calls over the noise, flashing that goddamn grin.
He grabs a glass, fills it with sparkling water, and sends it sliding down the bar. A slice of lime flies after it.
I lean over the white marble and drag him by his shirt.
“I’d rather have you with your face in my lap.”
His tongue presses into his cheek. He walks off laughing.
I cross my arms, aiming for unimpressed, but I’m floored, half-hard, and absolutely hating it.
Still, I can’t stop watching him. That’s when a security guard heads straight for him.
He leans in, murmurs something. Our gazes lock and Tom gives a small nod, waving for me to follow.
I meet him at the far end of the bar, and we’re escorted to the pool deck.
Calvin and his crew have claimed half the VIP section. The table is buried in empty whiskey and champagne bottles, a hookah smoldering in the center. The only woman in the group tips her head back and blows three perfect smoke rings. Calvin’s boys lose their minds.
I’m still taking in the circus when Tom lets out a scream that sounds nothing like his usual cigarette-rough voice.
“SURPRISE!” Calvin shouts, mouth curving into a wolfish grin.
The hookah girl makes a beeline for us, swinging a bottle of Jack close to Calvin’s face as she passes.
She’s drunk, trips over someone’s legs and goes down hard. Tom catches her at the last second and immediately buries her face in kisses.
“BABY! What the hell are you doing here?”
My brain can’t take this. What the actual fuck is happening?
I’m close to losing my mind when my gaze catches the wolf inked on her upper arm. Identical to the one on Tom’s chest. The same that’s on Calvin’s nape.
Jealousy flares, then cools into something far less comfortable.
She’s a McKenna.
Tom keeps her tucked against him, rocking her gently. When he turns, she finally clocks me at his side. That’s when uncomfortable gets a whole new definition.
Her eyes sweep over me, head to toe. Not just once, but over and over again. There’s a glint in those hooded hazel eyes. In that split second, I feel like the wolf’s prey.
She’s undressing me with her eyes. It’s intimidating as hell.
“Baby,” she purrs, draping one hand lazily over Tom’s shoulder. “Who’s the guy you brought? He’s hot as fuck.”
Tom doesn’t even try to hide the filthy grin that takes over his face. The two of them together are giving cruel intentions vibes.
Her legs turn to pudding the second Tom lets go. That’s when she drops straight into my arms. Mistake or design? I don’t know. My best guess is the second.
She recovers quickly, flicking an auburn strand from her face like nothing happened.
“Oh wow,” she giggles. “Looks like I’m already falling for you, handsome.”
She barely finishes her sentence before Calvin barrels in.
“DON’T BOTHER, BABY. HE—”
He what?
Calvin stops himself just in time to swallow the rest of his words. He’s drunk, but not drunk enough to finish that sentence.
Still, a liquor-induced grin tugs at his mouth.
“He’s Tom’s babysitter tonight,” he says instead.
Every head turns. My shoulders stiffen, and I focus on the hookah instead of their faces.
I’m not even sure what’s worse: Calvin blurting out that I’m gay in front of his friends, or reducing me to Tom’s handler like I’m here to keep him on a leash.
This is how they see it, apparently. Tiffy too.
I glance to my right. Tom looks furious, face crimson and the vein at his temple ticking hard.
My stomach drops.
This is exactly what Tom told me hurts him most, being treated like a problem that needs managing.
Fucking Calvin.
He should take a long look at himself, but I’m starting to think this little bomb is a smokescreen for his fear. The fear that Tom’s changing. He’s becoming more independent, someone they barely recognize anymore.
Except, Calvin is just noise. Jay is the real danger. I need to be ready for the day I face him, because the world Jay controls nearly killed Tom.
Which is why, more than anything, I want to keep Tom with me so he has a safe space to grow. I want to show him all the freedom life has to offer. I’m starting to believe I’m the only one who can.
Tom places his palm between my shoulder blades.
“Sorry about this. Let’s get out of here.”
We turn to leave, but Calvin isn’t done.
“Where are you going, Tom? Your drink’s right here. Or is he not letting you join us?”
Laughter erupts behind us.