Chapter 20
20
FARRON
I woke to the gentle rhythm of Tore’s breathing, his chest rising and falling against my back. Warmth radiated from his body, seeping into my skin. For a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of his embrace, savoring the feel of his arm draped over my waist.
Then reality hit like a bucket of ice water. What the fuck was I doing?
My heart raced as memories of last night flooded back—the heated kisses, roaming hands, clothes hastily discarded. I’d dragged an extra mattress into my room for him to sleep on, but he’d never made it into his own bed. After making each other come, we’d cleaned up and fallen asleep.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the images. This wasn’t me.
I didn’t cuddle. I didn’t do relationships. And I sure as hell didn’t do it with spoiled, rich boys.
But as Tore shifted in his sleep, pulling me closer, a traitorous part of me wanted to stay right here in his arms. I wanted to memorize the feel of his body against mine, the scent of his skin.
Jesus, I had to get out of here before he woke up. Before I did something stupid like kiss him good morning.
Carefully, I began to extricate myself from Tore’s embrace. His arm tightened reflexively, and I froze, holding my breath. After a moment, his grip relaxed, and I slowly slid out from under the covers.
My feet hit the cold floor, and I winced, searching for my clothes in the dim, morning light. I found my boxers and jeans crumpled by the bed, pulling them on as quietly as possible. Where the hell was my shirt?
As I hunted for the rest of my clothes, I glanced back at Tore. He looked so peaceful, his face relaxed in sleep, golden hair tousled against the pillow. Something tugged in my chest and I quickly looked away.
This was exactly why I needed to get out of here. These… feelings, or whatever the fuck they were, were dangerous. This was sex, nothing more. I couldn’t afford it to be. Tore and I were as different as fire and ice.
I finally spotted my T-shirt hanging off the back of a chair and grabbed it, along with my shoes. The floorboards creaked as I tiptoed to the door, and I cringed, glancing back. Tore stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
My hand was on the doorknob when his sleep-roughened voice stopped me in my tracks. “Farron? Where are you going?”
Shit. I turned slowly, meeting Tore’s confused blue eyes. “I didn’t wanna wake you this early.”
Tore frowned, propping himself up on one elbow. The sheet slipped down, revealing his bare chest, and I forced my eyes away. “It’s almost nine. It’s not early at all.”
Double shit. “I thought you might want to sleep in.” I fumbled for the doorknob behind my back. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you later.”
Before he could respond, I slipped out the door and shut it quietly behind me. I leaned against it for a moment, my heart pounding. What the hell was wrong with me?
As I hurried down the hall, pulling on my shirt, I tried to shake off the lingering warmth of Tore’s touch. This was sex. Nothing more. We’d hook up a few more times, and then this crazy attraction to him, this obsession, would fade. It had to.
But even as I told myself that, I knew it was a lie. The memory of Tore’s lips on mine, the way he’d thrown himself into that blowjob, the incredible sensation of being inside him, his radiant smile, that charming accent, even the way he’d looked at me last night like I was something precious—was all burned into my brain.
I needed to get my head on straight. I had responsibilities, goals, a plan for the future. What I didn’t need was some Prince Charming distracting me.
No matter how much I wanted him to.
Of course, when Tore showed up downstairs a few minutes later, looking all fresh and cute, my resolution went right out the window. Everyone else was still asleep, apparently, so it was just us.
“I thought you were gonna sleep in?” I asked gruffly.
He chuckled. “I never sleep in. Nine is about as late as I’ve ever gotten up.”
Oh. We had that in common, then. “Want some breakfast?”
The second I asked it, I regretted it. We usually didn’t have many breakfast options beyond cereals.
“I’m starving.”
I made a split-second decision. “Let’s go to Mabel’s Diner. My best friend, Wesley, his parents own it, and it’s the best food you’ve ever had. Best milkshakes in the state of Ohio too. They’ll be open for breakfast only and then close for the rest of today and tomorrow.”
Tore studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing, then nodded. “I’d love to if you’ll allow me to treat you as a thank you for inviting me.”
Oh, he was smart, wasn’t he? The way he’d framed that made it all but impossible for me to refuse. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it, so whatever. I could swallow my pride in this case. “You can’t hold my hand,” I said softly. “Not in the daylight. I don’t want people to think that…”
“I know.”
“Okay. I could give you a tour of the town after if you want.”
“I do want,” Tore said, his smile warm and genuine. “I’d like to see where you grew up and learn more about you.”
Something in my chest tightened at his words. Why did he have to be so nice? It would be so much easier if he was just another entitled rich kid.
“All right, let’s go.”
Mabel’s Diner hadn’t changed a bit since I’d graduated from high school. It was still a slightly rusty, retro-style building with a large neon sign. The bell above the door jingled when we walked in, and Auntie Mabel—Wesley’s mom, who I’d started calling Auntie when I became friends with Wesley—looked up from behind the large counter.
“Well, I’ll be… Look what the cat dragged in.”
I grinned. “Hi, Auntie Mabel.”
She came from behind the counter, wearing her standard, red-checkered apron. “Gimme a hug, boy.”
She gave the best hugs, my body pressed against her soft curves. Somehow, her hugs made everything better, just like my mom’s. “It’s so good to see you,” I mumbled.
“You too, honey. Who’s your friend?”
I stepped back. “Tore, meet Mrs. Mabel Williams. Auntie, this is Tore. He’s an international student from Norway, and he’s on my soccer team.”
She wiped her hand on her apron, then shook Tore’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said, unfailingly polite as ever.
“Right back atcha, and don’t you have the prettiest accent?”
He blushed. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“And so polite too.” She sent me a pointed look. “Some people could do with some of those manners.”
“Hey,” I protested. “I’m always polite to you.”
She huffed. “Like when you and Wesley ate the last of my banana cream pie and denied up and down you had?”
If she was gonna bring up all my childhood sins, I was in trouble, so instead, I leaned in and kissed her cheeks. “I apologize, Auntie. Now, can we get a table? We’re starving.”
Appeased, she nodded, pointing. “Table fifteen. Two daily Mabel specials?”
“Yes, pretty please and thank you.” I turned to Tore. “Vanilla, banana, or strawberry?”
“Excuse me?”
“Milkshake flavors.”
“We’re doing… Oh, okay. Vanilla, please.”
“Two specials and two vanilla shakes coming up,” Auntie Mabel said, and I led Tore to the table.
“I thought I heard your soft baritone,” a voice said, and I spun around.
Wesley sauntered toward us, a knowing grin plastered on his face.
“Wes!”
We exchanged a hug. “Mom told me you’d walked in,” Wesley said.
“You were helping in the kitchen?”
He nodded. “Like old times.” Then he turned to Tore and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Wesley.”
“You’re Farron’s best friend,” Tore said, immediately rising to his feet and shaking Wesley’s hand. “Tore Haakon, a pleasure to meet you.”
“Tore, huh?” Wesley shot me a look that said I had some explaining to do later. “You wouldn’t be that student from Norway Farron’s mentioned a few times, would you? The one from his soccer team?”
“That’s me.” Tore beamed.
“Farron’s told me so much about you.”
I shot Wesley a warning glare, but he ignored me.
“Has he now?” Tore asked, glancing at me with a soft smile that made my stomach flip. “All good things, I hope.”
“He’s celebrating Thanksgiving with us,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. “Just wanted to show him the town.”
Wesley’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked between us. “Oh, I bet you did. By the way, this explains a lot.”
My heart pounded as I struggled to decipher Wesley’s cryptic remark. What the hell was he implying? I wanted to grab him and demand an explanation, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not with Tore standing right there, looking at me with those piercing blue eyes. “I don’t have a clue what you mean.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Wesley slapped my shoulder. “I should get going. Pops asked me to pick up some milk before the store closes. It was a pleasure meeting you, Tore. Truly enlightening.”
I’d never been happier to see my best friend disappear. His timing was excellent, as his mom brought us our food, which we wolfed down in no time.
“You weren’t exaggerating,” Tore said, rubbing his belly after slurping the last bit of his milkshake. “This food is amazing, and that was, by far, the best milkshake I’ve ever had.”
“Told you.”
He grabbed the check Auntie Mabel had dropped and took a quick look at the amount. Instead of paying with a card, like I’d expected him to do, he took cash from his pocket and put it inside the leather fold.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I checked how much he’d put in there. Wait, a hundred bucks? That was way too much. “You don’t need change?”
He avoided my eyes. “No, it’s fine.”
The bill couldn’t have been more than thirty bucks. Was he truly giving her a seventy-dollar tip? “Tore…”
“I said it’s fine.” Before I could say anything else, he got up and walked toward the door.
“Was the food to your liking, Tore?” Auntie Mabel called out.
He spun around, flashing her one of his radiant smiles. “Best breakfast I’ve ever had, and that milkshake was divine.”
“Aw, that’s so kind of you. Come back now, you hear?”
After a last quick hug, I followed Tore outside. “Let’s give you the tour.”
Tore’s eyes were wide as he took in the small-town charm of my hometown. We continued down the street, passing the old movie theater where I’d had my first kiss, the park where I’d learned to ride a bike, and with each landmark, I shared stories, surprised by how easily they flowed out.
As we walked back home, I snuck glances at Tore. He looked so out of place here. Even his relatively simple outfit screamed elegance and money, yet he seemed genuinely interested in everything I showed him. No judgment, no condescension. Just curiosity.
Maybe I’d been too quick to judge him. Maybe there was more to Tore than his wealth and background. The thought both excited and terrified me.
“Thank you for showing me around,” Tore said as we approached my home. “I feel like I understand you better now.”
I swallowed hard, caught in the intensity of his gaze. “Yeah, well, thanks for listening, I guess.”
Jesus, I needed a distraction, something that would prevent me from looking at him all day.
As soon as we walked into the living room, I tossed him a controller. “Let’s see if you can handle some real competition. We’re playing FIFA.”
Tore caught the controller with surprising grace, a determined glint in his eye. “I may surprise you. I’ve been known to have quite the deft touch with my fingers.”
I felt my cheeks heat at his words, but before I could respond, Caspian and Rowan burst into the room, shoving each other playfully.
“Dibs on playing the winner!” Caspian shouted, flopping onto the couch next to me.
As we started playing FIFA, I kept stealing glances at Tore. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his tongue poking out slightly as he concentrated on the screen. It was cute. Fuck, I needed to get a grip.
“Oh, come on!” Tore exclaimed as I scored a goal. “That was clearly offside!”
I laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. “Welcome to the real world, pretty boy. Sometimes the ref makes bad calls.”
We played for hours, the room filled with laughter, trash talk, and the occasional victory dance. To my surprise, Tore held his own, even managing to beat Caspian in a nail-biting match.
The smell of roasting turkey and sage drifting from the kitchen eventually lured us away from the game. As we gathered around our small dining table, I felt a twinge of embarrassment. Our mismatched chairs and chipped plates were a far cry from the fancy dinners Tore must be used to.
But Tore didn’t seem to notice or care. He complimented my mom’s cooking enthusiastically, talked to Calista about how much fun Legos were over playing with dolls, asked Rowan about his art projects, and engaged in a heated debate with Caspian about soccer strategies.
“This stuffing is absolutely delightful, Linda,” Tore said, helping himself to seconds. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share the recipe?”
My mom beamed, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Of course. It’s a simple family recipe, nothing fancy.”
I watched as Tore leaned in, genuinely interested, as my mom explained the secret to her perfect stuffing. There wasn’t a hint of him being patronizing, only warmth and appreciation.
As the meal went on, something shifted inside me. The chip on my shoulder, the one I’d been carrying for so long, began to feel a little lighter. I had been too quick to judge Tore based on his background. He’d shown nothing but kindness.
“Hey,” I said softly, nudging Tore as we helped clear the table. “Thanks for being so cool with my family. I know it’s probably not what you’re used to.”
Tore’s hand brushed against mine as he reached for a plate, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. “This has been an amazing experience. Your family is wonderful.”
As we finished cleaning up, our eyes met across the table. The air between us crackled with tension once again. Would that ever change? Would we ever be able to burn through it somehow? I wanted to close the distance between us, to feel those soft lips against mine.
“Who wants pumpkin pie?” my mom called from the kitchen, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. What the hell was happening to me? This was Tore, for fuck’s sake. But as I watched him laugh at one of Caspian’s terrible jokes, his whole face lighting up, warmth spread through my chest.
As we settled onto the couch for some post-dinner TV, I was hyperaware of every movement, every laugh, every accidental brush of his arm against mine.
“You all right there, Captain?” Tore asked, his blue eyes twinkling. “You seem a bit distracted.”
I cleared my throat, trying to focus. “Yeah, food coma, I guess.”
But it wasn’t the turkey making my heart race. It was the realization that I’d been so wrong about Tore. All my preconceived notions about rich, entitled assholes were crumbling in the face of his genuine kindness and warmth.
As the night wore on and my family drifted off to bed, Tore and I found ourselves alone in the living room. The TV droned on in the background, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the way the soft light caught his profile.
“Farron,” Tore said softly, turning to face me. “I wanted to thank you for inviting me. This has been lovely.”
I snorted, trying to deflect the sudden intensity of the moment. “Lovely? Who the fuck says lovely?”
Tore grinned, leaning in closer. “I do, you uncultured swine.”
Before I could stop myself, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, everything froze. Then Tore’s hand was in my hair, pulling me closer, and I was lost.
The kiss deepened, passionate and hungry. I traced the curve of his jaw with my fingers, marveling at the softness of his skin. Tore moaned softly into my mouth, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
“Fuck,” I breathed as we broke apart, both panting. “Not here…”
“Your room,” Tore whispered. “Let’s go to your room.”
We slid up the stairs, careful not to wake anyone, then tiptoed into my room, where we fell back on my bed, a tangle of limbs and heated kisses. Eventually, our kisses slowed, becoming softer, more languid.
“We should probably get some sleep,” I said reluctantly, not wanting the moment to end.
Tore nodded, stifling a yawn. “Please don’t tell me to go to my own bed.”
He should. He really should.
Instead, I pulled him closer. As we drifted off to sleep, limbs intertwined in my full-size bed, I made a last, desperate attempt to convince myself.
Sex. This was nothing more than sex.
If I said it often enough, maybe I’d believe it.