Go Your Own Way (7 page)

Will’s hands grabbed his face and pressed their mouths together.

Kissing was messy. Lennox, as all of his flirting and crude re­marks had suggested, was great. Lennox didn’t hesitate. The swift move­ments and the strong press of his lips didn’t give Will much chance to think about what he was doing or where this might go. And for now, he was fine with that. This was wonderful. Wet, messy, but pleasant bliss to get tangled up in until he forgot the rest of himself.

Lennox pressed closer; his hands grabbed at Will’s thighs. Will gasped as Lennox lifted him up until the chalk tray was wedged against his ass. It was an odd sort of pain, mingled with all the pleasure and the sparking heat traveling through him. This wasn’t anything like the chaste pecks Will had imagined for so many years; it had none of the sweet innocence he’d dreamed about for his first kiss. None of that seemed to connect with this boy pressing against him and using his mouth to part Will’s lips.

Will’s hips jerked as Lennox bit his lower lip. He couldn’t stop himself. He was too dizzy to think about anything besides the hands on his thighs and the lips meeting his. Lennox groaned and nibbled Will’s bottom lip until Will’s cock throbbed.

Lennox yanked his lips away from Will’s mouth. They moved along Will’s jaw, down his throat and back up to a soft spot just beneath his ear.

He was shattering—splintering—into a million pieces. Nothing had ever felt like this and nothing ever could again. Lennox’s hips rolled against Will. Lennox’s quick, panting breaths against his lips and chin made Will whimper.

“Fuck, I want you so much,” Lennox said.

Will’s fingers wound into Lennox’s curls and pulled him closer. Stomach pulsing, hips and lower back aching from the position he was in, Will held Lennox tighter, felt his warm back muscles through his shirt and—

Something clattered against the door. Lennox jerked his mouth away from Will’s.

“Damnit! Stupid music stand,” Mr. Robinette said.

Like flicking a light switch Will’s lust turned off. Lennox stood in front of him, breathing deeply, hands still on Will’s hips, his eyes dark with want. A moment later, Mr. Robinette stepped back into the room. Will shoved Lennox away.

This was
Lennox
, the boy who had been harassing him non-stop since yesterday morning. Yet somehow he’d just spent the past quarter of an hour having clothed sex against a chalkboard with him. How could he have been so stupid?

“Time’s up for today,” Mr. Robinette said. He glanced into the last cabinet, which Will was glad to see was the only one that was already organized. “Great. You two can head out early. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Will snatched up his backpack and raced outside to his truck. He couldn’t let that happen again. Making out with Lennox McAvoy was the last thing he needed, even if it was unbelievably thrilling.

He was out of the parking lot before Lennox appeared. The tires on his dad’s old truck screeched and the engine gave a loud rumble. The truck was old, almost as old as him, and he wasn’t handy with anything under the hood. His dad wasn’t either. His mom had been, though. She’d worked as a mechanic when his parents first married, but Will didn’t remember that.

In fact, Will would never tell his dad this, but he didn’t remem­ber any­thing about her. Not her voice or her smell or the bright­ness in her eyes his dad was fond of reminiscing about. Will’s dad liked to tell him he’d inherited the last one from his mom. Will always smiled and nodded despite the chills it gave him. She’d died when he was only three.

It was almost as if he’d never had a mother. Karen was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mom, but that was weird, too. His stepmom tottered between friend and parent. For Will, trying to navigate the labyrinth between his mom, his stepmom and the idea of a mother-son relationship he’d never had and didn’t understand, was complicated.

His truck clattered to a stop outside of his dad’s store, Osborne Engravings. The store had once been Will’s grandfather’s, and everyone expected that someday it would be Will’s. Nobody except his dad seemed to realize that Will wouldn’t be staying here. His father didn’t even need to ask: He knew his son didn’t share his interest.

Will ignored the “Closed” sign and went in. The service floor wasn’t big: Most of the store space was in the back room. His dad made trophies, medals, ribbons and plaques and ordered team uniforms for the county-run sports teams, and also did a lot of engravings. Jerseys and shirts for the local county and school sports teams hung on racks and on the walls. Every year, at least one team returned a coach’s shirt signed by all the kids after a team’s winning season. His dad always mounted them on the walls. Will’s own Little League team jerseys hung there with the rest. His dad had added a lot to the store since he’d taken over from Will’s grandfather. For a small town business, they did well enough.

In the back room, Will found his dad hard at work, mounting military medals in a hanging wall display case. Ben Osborne had a graying crew cut, Will’s green eyes and a clean-shaven face. He was a lot taller than his son and growing rather plump since his retirement from the Navy more than a decade ago.

“Hey, bud, wanna give me a hand?”

“Sure.” Will set his backpack down and took the goggles his father offered. “What do you need?”

“Mrs. Roberts wants all of her husband’s medals cleaned up and mounted in this for his retirement party next week. Those two need to be sewed up a little bit.” He nodded toward the medals waiting to be mounted. “She had them all wrapped in a towel to sneak them out with her dry cleaning and two of ‘em snagged together.”

“Okay.” Will held a magnifying lens up to his eye. A few strands of fabric had pulled loose. Nothing he couldn’t fix. He opened the little sewing kit on the table and pulled out a needle. “Shouldn’t take too long. What’s for dinner?”

“No idea.” He sat on a stool and wiped his face. “You’re late today,” he added after a sip of Red Bull. “Baseball isn’t starting already, is it? Or that newspaper stuff?”

“No, I, um—
ouch
.” Will shook his hand and put down the sewing needle. “I had detention.”

Will looked up and found his dad eyeing him closely. Ben Osborne wasn’t a stupid man. He wasn’t as rough and aggressive as his crew cut and muscled arms made him appear, either. But he could call out a lie from six miles away, wrangle it and then serve it up to Will for dinner.

“Detention, huh? Is that why you’ve got chapped lips and a hickey?”

Will’s hand clamped down on his neck before he could stop himself. Ben chuckled and shone the light from the desk lamp onto the medals.

“What’s his name?”

“Little boy jackass who needs a chainsaw up his—”

“Whoa, language!” Will worked on the first medal as Ben inched in and examined the mark on his neck. “Looks like a vacuum cleaner gave you that. This guy must have lips like a camel.”

“He does not,” Will snapped. Then he frowned. Since when did he defend Lennox? And to his dad, of all people. “He’s… crude. Awful. I can’t stand the sight of his stupid, beautiful face.”

“Ah,” Ben said. “One of those guys. Like your mom. Did I ever tell you about the time she almost ran me over on her motorcycle? It was—”

Will groaned and set the medal down. “
Dad
, I’ve heard that a thousand times. You fell into the road because you’re a moron. She almost hit you. Bing bang boom, she made you get on behind her and then you had a bouncing baby boy. Eighteen years later, you bored him into a coma with the story. The end.”

Ben deflated a little as Will picked the medal back up and examined the thread. Karen always had a good chuckle at that story, but for Will it was just that: a story. Despite all the pic­tures around the house and all the tales of what happened in this spot in the garage or in the kitchen or beside the pool, Will wasn’t big on listening. Not anymore. As a boy he’d loved the stories; at the time, his mother had still been a hazy memory. These days, it was Dad, Karen and him. That was his family now.

“So this boy. The, uh, detention scoundrel. He play for, you know, your team and all?”

“Is that your way of asking if I used a vacuum cleaner on my neck?” Will countered as he eased the thread back to its original space and clipped the end. “I assure you, I have much better things to do with my time than make pretend hickeys.”

“Will.” Will met Ben’s stern gaze. “What’s up?”

“Ten electric lamps and a slightly cracked roof beam,” Will said with a nod toward the ceiling. “You really should get that looked at before winter.”

“
Will
.”

“I—his name’s Lennox. He’s new this year.” Will’s glance shifted between the second medal, a Purple Heart, and his dad’s frown. “Yes, he’s gay. Or at least interested in men. It’s nothing serious.”

Ben tugged Will’s shirt collar down a little. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

Will jerked out of his reach and straightened his collar. “Look, he’s definitely… attractive. Very.
His eyes
—but he’s trouble. I have detention all week because I slapped him not five minutes after we met.”

“Good boy. You do have a hell of an arm,” Ben said. “What’d he say?”

Will sighed and shook his head. At least he wasn’t grounded on top of being in detention. He’d never had detention before, and his dad was taking this well. “Something rude. And vile. Did I mention he’s a swine?”

“No,” Ben said, chuckling, “but I get the feeling I’m going to be hearing a lot more about this kid.”

“Not unless I stick my boot up his butt,” Will said. He squinted at the second medal. Working carefully, he used tweezers to pull the loose thread back into place. “He’s awful. Don’t worry about him. With any luck, he’ll be expelled by the end of the week and—”

“Expelled?” It was impossible to miss the alarm stuttering into his dad’s voice. “I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

“You wouldn’t like the look of him either,” Will said. He finished the medal and handed it to his dad. But Ben was staring at him hard, his brow lowered and his mustache drooping. “Dad, it’s fine. Really, I can handle him.”

“Doesn’t mean he can handle himself.” Ben placed the two Purple Hearts with the other medals and turned back to him. “He try anything with you? Force you to do anything? If he gives you any trouble, I want you to tell me right away.”

“No,” Will said after a moment. As much as he hated saying it, it was true. He’d kissed Lennox first in the storage room. If he were honest, and he didn’t want to be right now, he wanted to kiss him again. “He’s… interested. Is that the right word? He likes me or whatever. But he’s not… what he seems to want isn’t anything I care for. Okay?”

Ben stared him down for a few moments, but Will didn’t blink. He could handle this just fine. When he was in college next year, he’d meet an attractive man who was interested in him at least once or twice. Maybe a handful of times a year. He wasn’t
that
hard on the eyes.

“All right, but if
anything
happens, don’t hesitate to tell me,” Ben said.

“I won’t. I did get that much from you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Says the man who’s given me the sex talk once a year since I first asked why my Barbie was missing a pee-pee.”

“It’s important that you know these things!”

“I was six, Dad. I hardly needed to know what STDs were at six.”

“That’s beside the point.” Ben closed the cover on the medal display case and grabbed his keys. “Come on, smart-ass. Let’s grab something for dinner.”

The Laundromat was the brightest spot on this side of town. Inside, it burned white from the cheap washers and dryers and the rows of lights. Lennox scooped up his skateboard at the door and picked a spot in the corner. The attendant wasn’t the usual man on the over­night shift. Lennox kept his head down and tried not to make eye contact with him as he pulled his dirty clothes out of his back­pack. As soon as he’d tossed his little heap of clothes into an available washing machine, however, the attendant was behind him, looking stern over his grisly beard.

“Aren’t you a little young to be out so late?”

The attendant had bags under his eyes, a spot on his beard that was darker than the rest and yellow calluses between his first two fingers. A rectangular packet was outlined in his thigh pocket.

“Early,” Lennox said. “I’ve got ID if you need proof.”

The man, Andy, according to his name tag, looked him over until he saw the ankle monitor. “That some new-style thing you kids are doing now? Why’s it, like, blinking and stuff?”

“It’s a monitor,” Lennox said. He popped a few quarters into the washing machine. “I’m on a short leash, you could say.”

“Huh.” A deep grunt and then a shrug. “I’m going for a smoke. Don’t steal nothing.”

What could he possibly steal from this place? It wasn’t as though he could walk out the door with a washing machine in his pocket.

Lennox didn’t see the attendant again until he was back outside and rolling down the street on his skateboard with freshly dried laundry stuffed in his backpack. At least nobody had called the cops . He ducked into his room to drop off his laundry and headed to school.

Eastern was already open and busy when he reached the stu­dent parking lot. He wolfed down the apple he’d brought for breakfast and then waited in the band room, hoping Will would arrive early. His body was still warm from the memory of Will’s lips and the feeling of their bodies pressed together. He’d never had a kiss quite like that one and he was eager for another. The other boys had never cared much for kissing. Like Lennox, they’d been too interested in getting out of their clothes.

Will didn’t show up until the bell. The rest of the percussion section rolled out their instruments, and Lennox did his best to stay out of the way. Part of him itched to pick up a pair of mallets or sticks, or to go to the back and roll out the piano that didn’t seem to have any use. That first day of class it had been in the band room, but every day since it had been locked up in the back. Two years had passed since he’d had a chance to play. Lucy had probably forgotten the very little he’d managed to teach her before he’d been sent away.

“So, you and me,” Lennox said, leaning over Will’s shoul­der and inter­rupting his conversation with the other trom­bone player. Will blushed when their eyes met, but he held Len­nox’s gaze. The girl beside him—was her name Nastasha or Natalie?—beamed at him. “We should try for a longer round two some­time today. Maybe this time you won’t have to go home to your hand.”

“What?” The girl eyed him as though he had a cock hanging out of his mouth. He wouldn’t mind that right now, especially if it was Will’s.

“I want his cock in my throat,” Lennox said. The girl gaped at him. Will turned her away from Lennox.

“Leave me alone,” Will told him.

“But—”

“No.”

Lennox frowned and wilted a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that with so many people around. He didn’t mind it, but Will certainly did. Lennox kept his eyes on Will through the announce­ments and then through a loud, chaotic band class, but no amount of chair-nudging or calf-brushing made him turn around.

Will was a rare one. Nobody else had ever taken this long to get naked once Lennox set his sights on them. Almost every other boy he’d been interested in had been under him and pant­ing the same day they met. A few had been regular hook-ups, but none of them had cared as Will did. Lennox couldn’t think of any other way to explain it. Will
cared
, but not about his reputation or his looks or having a boy want him. No, he cared about meaning and feelings and what he could share with someone.

Which was stupid. All anyone could have with someone was either meaningless or harmful. Will was naïve to expect some­thing worthwhile from another person. People were only good for causing hurt, even when it wasn’t intentional.

When the bell rang, Will darted out of the room before anyone else. Lennox followed with Natasha at his side. Otto slouched up, and then reached around her and shoved Lennox away. He still had bruises on his face and neck.

“Get lost.”

“You gonna make me?” Lennox asked him. “Last time you tried, you wound up on your ass.”

“Yeah? Well, this time—”

“You’ll what? Bloody up my knuckles from hitting your thick skull?” Lennox paused and met the other boy’s dark eyes. “I could always swing you around by your hair like girls do when they fight.”

Otto made a grab for him. Natasha elbowed Otto in the gut. Spluttering, Otto fell back against the wall.

“Give it a rest, Otto,” Natasha said. “I thought you were done picking on people since you’ve left Will alone.”

Otto straightened his hoodie. “Will’s never—”

“Made him bleed all over the hoodie he’s got glued to himself,” Lennox finished.

They glared at each other over Natasha’s head, and then she yanked Lennox down the hall toward the cafeteria. Will was halfway down the hall.

“So, you two are a thing now? Like,
seriously
seriously?” Nata­sha asked.

Up ahead, Will pushed through the door to the boys’ bath­room. Natasha groaned as she and Lennox stopped outside the same door. Lennox tried not to smile. “Let’s just say I’m getting familiar with the taste of his mouth.”

“You’re—oh my god!”

Natasha clapped her hands and did a little dance before leaping at him. It was the most enthusiastic hug Lennox had ever received.

“One of these days, I’m charging in there after Will, boys at urinals be damned,” Natasha said. She tapped her shoe against the door of the bathroom and sighed. “Actually, it might be fun. If I startled them, do you think they’d jump around and accidentally pee on each other?”

Lennox scrunched up his face. “I don’t know if this bathroom is ever busy enough to get that sort of action.”

“Right, right. The one in the boys’ locker room is more crowded.” Natasha gave him a wink as she walked away. “Well, I’ll tell Ms. Jenkins you’ll be a little late. You know, getting acquainted with your
boyfriend
in the bathroom.”

She skittered around the corner before Lennox could correct her. He didn’t have boyfriends. Or dates, or romance or any of that nonsense. Will might want to waste his time with that, but Lennox didn’t. Nothing decent would come from a long-term sexual relationship.

Lennox shoved the bathroom door open and ducked inside. It was quiet except for a running faucet. Will was at the middle sink with his backpack at his feet and a comb in his hair. His faded shirt was a strange contrast from the designer shirt he’d worn yesterday, and his pants were a little droopy because his belt was unbuckled. Lennox watched him for a moment, from the way he swooped his hair back out of his face to his damp eyelashes and wet cheeks. As Will set his comb down and rinsed his face again, Lennox stepped up behind him.

Will gasped as Lennox caught him by the hips. Then he splut­tered and coughed; water sprayed the mirror. Lennox laughed and kissed Will’s nape. Making Will choke on water certainly hadn’t been part of the plan. Will coughed again and jerked his elbow into Lennox’s arm.

Lennox laughed again, his stomach rippling with amusement. “Relax, baby.”

“This isn’t what—
gah—
what bathrooms are for,” Will stam­mered as Lennox’s arm slid around his waist. “We aren’t—
oh.
”

Lennox smiled. Vibrations from Will’s gentle moan brushed his lips as he placed another kiss on Will’s neck. Will’s head dropped back onto his shoulder, one hand clutching at Lennox’s wrist. He slid his hand under the hem of Will’s shirt, and let his fingers splay across his stomach. His skin was softer than Lennox had imagined. Smooth and warm as the muscles underneath rippled. Lennox groaned and arched his hips.

Will let out a shuddering breath. He must be able to feel Len­nox’s hard-on as he pulled their bodies closer together and rolled his hips. This time, Will moved with him, a soft sway as Lennox sucked his neck and traced his hands over his stomach. It was bliss to be this close to someone, to feel the hot pulse of Will’s heart thrumming through the veins under his lips. He could get lost in this: lost in the taste and the warmth and the want of Will’s fingers curling into the hair at the nap of his neck…

“Stop.”

No word had ever made the bottom fall out of Lennox’s stom­ach faster. Will repeated himself a little louder as if Lennox wouldn’t listen, but Lennox’s hands stopped moving. Lennox took a step back as his stomach clenched. He didn’t want to stop. He only wanted to have more, to feel and see more with Will.

Lennox met Will’s eyes in the mirror, and he took another step back. Want was in Will’s eyes, but determination filled them, too. Will rubbed his rosy, freckled cheeks dry on a paper towel, shut the water off and picked up his backpack.

“I don’t want you touching me anymore. This stops today, all right?”

“But—I mean—” Lennox met Will’s eyes, and took in his wide pupils and flushed neck. No amount of convincing would change his resolve—he’d seen it too many times before from his grandparents, his dad and other adults. He pressed his back against the wall beside the first stall and cringed. Had he screwed up this chance for good? “Fine.”

Will left. Lennox adjusted his jeans and sighed. Maybe Will wasn’t worth the effort or the time. He was too compli­cated to mess with, wasn’t he? Too expectant and idealistic about ro­mance. He’d crumble beneath Lennox. He wasn’t worth the time. But who else here was? He didn’t stand a chance with anyone else in town.

Will was it. For this town and him.

Click click click.

Lennox ran his tongue ring over his teeth, then splashed his face and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He needed a shave and a decent night’s sleep to get rid of the bags under his eyes. His shirt was loose, and when he lifted it to look at his chest, he winced. Another rib was showing through his skin. Seducing Will would take time, and he wasn’t sure he had that luxury.