Jett
I’ve come to love this small space above the kitchen.
The way the early morning sun caresses my face through the window, and the distant hum of voices from downstairs.
Wes is still asleep, his mouth slightly agape as he snores softly.
Time is suspended, and I have no idea how long I’ve been awake, just staring at him.
The sleeping version of Wes is such a contrast to when he’s awake.
He’s dead to the world, like his body has entered this comatose state.
Then, the moment he wakes, he’s vibrant and energetic, ready to face a new day.
In many ways, he’s like a kid, carefree and hungry for life, but I know there’s more to him by now, real depth.
Being around Wes’ family makes it clear why he is the way he is.
Kids only grow into confident adults when they’re loved unconditionally.
Although I realized from an early age I didn’t have that, it’s still bittersweet to experience what it should’ve been like and what I was robbed of.
Being here with Wes, I’m getting some of it back in small doses.
Wes shifts, and his eyelashes flutter. Soon I’ll be met by a world of blue.
The second Wes opens his eyes, going from unfocused to alert, is one of my favorite moments of the day.
The sleepy smile that spreads across his face the second he sees me looking at him.
My chest becomes too tight to contain my heart.
He wiggles his nose, and I smile. He’s so beautiful, his face relaxed, half in shadow, the other half lit by the morning sun.
I’m in love with him. I love Wes. I didn’t think I had it in me.
I thought that part of me—the part that could give in and love like that—died on that bathroom floor in Paris.
I want to tell him there are pieces of me that aren’t cute and endearing, not worthy of things like hero worship or a scrapbook.
They’re ugly and messy. How do I tell him about my shame and failure?
Of how I wanted to just cease to exist. How do you tell someone about that?
“Mornin’,” Wes drawls, and there it is, that slow-spreading smile that teases all the emotions from his face. Recognition, happiness, desire. He stretches his arms above his head, then groans. “Perfect day for grilling, huh?”
“Morning, sleepyhead. It is.” I press a kiss against his cheek, then rest my head on his chest. He wraps his arm around me and holds me tight. “I wish we didn’t have to go back tomorrow. I like it here in your little loft.”
Wes yawns as I bury my face in his armpit and breathe him in, the downy hairs tickling my nose.
He always smells so damn good in the morning, all male and warm.
“I wish we could stay too. I guess I’ll just have to get a house one day, then you can stay in my loft.
” He chuckles low in his throat, and my dick takes notice.
Being in Wes’ childhood home has been the longest, most torturous foreplay in the history of mankind. My body aches for him.
“Will you be there too? In the loft?”
He smiles against my forehead. “Of course.” He pinches my sides. “I’ll come by with food, keep you well-fed and happy. I’ll fuck you so good. My own little love gremlin in the loft.”
I snort a laugh. “That sounds like one of your romance novels.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” He pauses. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I’d be right there with you all the time.”
All the time.
My chest squeezes at his words. I still find it hard to plan for the future.
When I was in the hospital, I lived from second to second.
The idea of a future was something I didn’t dare imagine.
Wishing for things, like a partner and a family of my own, seemed so far out of reach. Now, suddenly, they don’t.
“I’d like that. I want you to fuck me. Soon.”
Wes sucks in a breath, his pupils blown wide with lust. “Fuck, babe.” He looks down at his hard dick.
Okay, we need a change of topic before all our good intentions fly out the window.
“So, what’s the plan for today?”
Wes waggles his eyebrows. “Well, I assume morning swapsies are off the table?”
“Yes. Behave yourself, Scrapbook Boy.”
Wes gasps. “Excuse me, what?”
“Oh, you didn’t get the overnight memo? You’re Scrapbook Boy now.” I turn my face and bite his nipple.
He winces. “What happened to Wilson or the best lay of my life?”
“You mean loudest, dontcha?”
“Oh, look who grew a sense of humor overnight!” Wes scowls, then tickles my sides.
I squirm under his touch, gasping. “I always had a sense of humor, it was just—oh shit, baby! Please stop.” Wes stops tickling me, grinning like a dork. “My humor is just too sophisticated for you!”
“The nerve!” He kisses me hard and needy, and I swell against him. My arousal builds from a low hum to a bright, vibrant buzz. I’d give anything to fuck him right now.
We break apart at the sound of laughter from downstairs. “Shit! We should get dressed,” Wes says. “Get a morning run in before we head over to Mike and Den’s place.”
“Yeah.” I smirk, looking down at our hard lengths. “Or we could opt for an alternative workout.”
“What happened to not doing the dirty while being in my childhood home?”
“Pft, dude, that’s all good in theory, but then you brought out the big guns.”
Wes smirks. “I’ve always had a big gun.”
“Dork. I’m not talking about your dick. I’m talking about that damn scrapbook.”
Wes falls back onto the bed and tries to pull the covers over his face, but I won’t let him. “Ugh! I’m gonna kill Granddad.”
“Don’t. I like him.” I brush Wes’ bangs out of his eyes, and he blinks at me. “I know what I said, but I want you so bad.”
“I want you, too.” His voice is breathy, and my dick sucks it up like fucking sunshine. “Maybe we could find a… secluded place on the beach.” He thrusts his hips forward, and I meet him there, in a haze of lust.
“Oh yeah? I’ve never had sex outdoors before.”
“Me neither,” Wes pants. “But I guess there’s a first for everything, right?”
Like returning to Cannon Beach. Like meeting your boyfriend’s family and his best friend. Like letting someone inside your heart and falling in love. My life has become a string of firsts with Wes, and as scary as it is, I want more.
“Your man’s a meat eater, right, Wes?” Mike asks, placing a tray with steaks and condiments on the table.
I snort a mouthful of beer, wiping my chin, as Wes doubles over in a fit of laughter.
“What?” Mike blinks, holding up his barbecue tongs.
“Oh, babe, you’re so cute when you’re all oblivious.” Dennis leans in and kisses his husband, who blushes when it dawns on him what he just asked.
“Shit, sorry. I mean—”
Wes waggles his brows. “He sure is! The meatier the better.”
“Jesus,” I groan.
Dennis winks, then high-fives Wes, while I just want to sink into a hole. And I mean an actual fucking hole in the ground. Maybe that cute dog, Willow, can dig one for me.
“You guys are ridiculous. I forgot how you get when you’re together.” Mike scratches the back of his neck, fondness pooling in his eyes.
“Pft, you looove us,” Dennis coos. “C’mon, Jett, let me show you around while Mike gets the meat all nice and juicy.”
“Fuck you!” Mike laughs as I follow Dennis and Wes down the porch steps into the backyard, which is more like a large stretch of land surrounded by forested areas.
“Mike and my dad pretty much built the whole thing themselves.”
I turn and look back up at the house, the wood glowing in the sun, the huge windows reflecting the light.
“It’s beautiful. I could imagine living some place like this one day.
” The words leave my mouth before I realize what I’ve said.
I’d sworn off ever living in a small town again, where everyone knows everyone’s business.
In the masses of the city, you can be anonymous and disappear.
Wes frowns at me. “You could?”
I nod. I guess the need to disappear isn’t as pronounced anymore.
“You totally should. We love it here, our own little piece of paradise.” Dennis smiles, then picks up a chewed-up tennis ball from the grass and whistles.
Within seconds, a black blur bolts from the trees, tongue lolling from her mouth, sharp ears pointed to the sky.
“There’s my girl!” Dennis squats, catches the dog, then tips over onto his back and grins. “You like dogs, Jett?” he pants.
“Uhm, sure, I guess.”
Wes drapes his arm over my shoulders. “Jett’s sister has a dog. Or more like a bear.”
“Oh yeah? What kind?” Dennis stands, then hurls the ball into the trees.
“A Great Dane.”
“Yep, that’s a fucking giant of a dog. You close? I mean, not you and the dog, unless you are. I mean you and your sister.”
Images of Halloween course through my mind. “Yeah, we’re close. She’s always been my protective big sis, I guess.” Wes grips my shoulder, and I lean into him. “Since my niece and nephew came along, we’ve gotten even closer.”
Dennis nods. “Yeah, I know what you mean. My brother had a kid last year, so it’s doubled up on the love, man. Now there’s this little guy you just wanna dote on all the time.” Dennis looks wistful. “Just wish they lived closer.”
“Speaking of kids,” Wes says as we continue walking toward the treeline. “What’s the status?”
Dennis’ smile widens. “We’re actually on a waiting list now.” He looks at me. “Mike and I wanna foster a kid, or two, before we maybe adopt one day. You know, kids who are a little bigger and need a home. Most people want babies, but older kids need a home too.”
I nod. “Every kid needs a place to call home. Doesn’t matter how old you get.”
Wes bumps Dennis’ shoulder. “That’s amazing, man. My bestie is gonna be a daddy! So, when do you think it’ll be? When am I gonna be an uncle?”
“Well, now that we’re cleared as foster parents, we’re just waiting for a call, you know. It could be any day.”
“Wow, that’s insane. I’m so happy for you guys.”