Heartless (Keeping Secrets) (3 page)

“A quick one?” he asked. I nodded. I knew I had him. My hair fell into my eyes again. Man, I needed a haircut. “Where?”

“We can walk to the convenience store,” I suggested, which was conveniently located next to a small patch of woods that would do nicely. I laughed at my word play. I was brilliant when I was drinking. I didn’t have to tell him twice. He interrupted his father with a couple short sentences, and his dad gave his nod of assent. The man was plastered, so I had expected as much.

We stumbled off into the woods, and I moaned as he cupped me through my blue jeans. I fumbled with the button on his, and we had a good laugh trying to negotiate the zipper that got stuck in my boxers but thankfully did not catch the delicate flesh underneath, despite the lack of available space therein.

We jerked each other off quickly, both of us in a hurry to get back to our evening plans. The edge that I had been dancing on since I’d left my apartment melted away as I found my release in Juan’s clumsy but eager hands. I wiped my own palm off on a fern, and he followed suit.

“Coming back to drink with us,
conejito
?” he asked as I started to take a right instead of a left at the sidewalk.

“Nah. I’m good. I think I’ll go to the drum circle,” I said after a moment’s pause. I was pleasantly buzzed, finally relaxed, and ready to go wander around the hippie-infested streets of downtown Asheville. It was a vibrant city, and I loved it a lot.

“Alright. Be safe. I’ll see you later.” He left without a backward glance. Yeah, no “I love you”s from that guy. Juan knew the score. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans and walked into the concrete jungle.

W
HEN
I said I was a social glutton, I wasn’t kidding, and the drum circle that was put on every Friday night by the locals was like my heroin. There were always at least thirty to forty people there. During the summer, the park would be crammed full of people, hundreds of them, and they would all drink and trip and drum the night away.

The rhythm always got into my blood, and it would never take long before my hips were swaying to the beat. I would inevitably find myself grinding and gyrating for the crowd. I loved it. I was an attention whore that way.

Tonight was crowded for fall. The people were six thick to the drummers, and the circle they created was already filled with writhing bodies. Since I was too young to get into a club, this was my scene, though I could rarely convince one of my friends to come with me without imbibing serious amounts of alcohol first.

I pushed my way through until I found a good spot, surrounded by people but not crushed by them. I tapped my fingers on my thigh to catch the rhythm the drummers were creating. I began to sway my hips, and then I was spinning in circles, dancing like the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow. It was like I was some sort of ancient caveman, invoking the spirits of his gods to keep the sun at bay.

I’d only been dancing about fifteen minutes, sweat just beginning to form on my skin, when a familiar voice called out, “Hey!” I looked up in time to see Danny Johnson, with a camera hanging from his neck like some tourist, pushing through the crowd. I stopped my movements and decided to meet him halfway. Don’t know why. It was probably the alcohol making me a little more free-spirited.

“Hey, man.” I had to shout to be heard over the drummers, so I pointed to a tree growing out of the sidewalk just beyond the circle. He nodded in understanding and followed me over. It wasn’t until I turned back around that I realized he wasn’t alone. Two older men, one of them holding a laughing toddler on his shoulders, and another guy our age stood there. The other guy I knew all too well. Tommy freaking Johnson, Danny’s cousin, and the same guy who had blown me and who I had humiliated by forwarding a video of it to his mother. He was still as gorgeous as ever. Tall, same lanky build as Danny, blond hair, blue eyes. Christ. This meeting just got fucking awkward.

“Uh, hi,” I said. Tommy paled but managed to muster up a glare from hell. If looks could kill, I would’ve been on the way to the morgue in a body bag. Danny seemed oblivious and smiled cheerfully.

“I’m glad I saw you. You were really moving out there. I got some really great shots.” He grinned and held up his camera. The damn thing probably cost more than a month’s rent at my apartment.

“You’re a photographer?” I asked. I was curious about him. Had been since I saw him in the bathroom earlier that day. Like I said, the guy was good-looking. It was hard not to notice. His tidbit of social awkwardness just seemed to add to the charm for me.

He shrugged. “I like taking pictures. My dads bought my camera for me last Christmas.” He beamed and motioned to the two older men. “These are my dads, Charles and Mark.” I nodded my head in greeting, and they did the same. Affection filled Danny’s gray eyes as he reached up and tickled the squealing blond miniature on top of Mark’s shoulders. “This is my little brother, Christian.” I waved. “And this is my cousin, Tommy. Do you two know each other?” Well, wasn’t that a loaded question?

“Sort of,” I said vaguely. Tommy’s lips thinned even further, and he half turned back toward the crowd.

“I’m going to go dance, Uncle Mark,” he snarled, stalking off into the crowd. Well, it was nice to see that he’d missed me.

Danny frowned. “That’s weird. He’s usually nicer than that.”

I shrugged. “I provoke a lot of reactions.” Again, the vagueness of my answer didn’t seem to bother Danny in the least. We stared at each other for a solid twenty seconds, neither of us knowing what to say. “Do you want to dance or something?” I asked finally. He nodded eagerly and glanced at his parents.

“Go ahead, Danny,” Charles said with a chuckle. Danny surprised me by grabbing my hand and pulling me back into the crowd.

Man, that boy could dance. We swayed together, gyrating in a way that told everyone our teenage hormones were alive and kicking. I was surprised by the intimacy in the embrace. There was no way a straight boy would dance with me like this. Was there? He placed his warm hands firmly on my hips as he thrust against my jeans with every third boom of the drums. My head spun at the sensation. It felt primal, and I felt so alive in that moment. I felt like a king being seduced by some visiting dignitary or something.

“You really like to dance, huh?” Danny asked in my ear as he spun me out and then back into him. I smiled and resumed my rhythmic swaying.

“Yeah. I love coming here,” I said. Danny was really cute. Super cute. He was so cute he got put into the “I would love to date you” box. I could already see us arriving to lunch together, hand in hand, sitting with my friends. Kevin would talk about sports, and everyone else would swap gossip. He was new enough that, if he played his social cards right, he’d fit right into our circle with little difficulty once I introduced him as mine.

Another ten minutes passed. “I’m getting thirsty. Do you want some water?” he asked in my ear.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said back. He let go of my hips, and I felt his absence as I resumed my dance. The cadence had changed, and I was oddly disappointed by my lack of partner. Thirty seconds passed before those hands reclaimed their spot and his body came flush against mine. I chuckled. “That was quick. Did you rob the store or bully your way up through the line to get ahead of everyone else?”

“You need to stay away from my cousin, asshole.”

Every muscle in my body tensed at the rumbled command in my ear.
Fuck
. This could not be happening. I forced myself to stay calm and continued to dance. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Tommy dear,” I quipped, deliberately grinding my pert ass cheeks against his already semirigid member. I didn’t take it personally. It was just what our bodies did when we were that up close and personal with another human being. Hell, sometimes it didn’t even take a human being. Everyone else blamed it on hormones, so we did too.

“The hell I don’t,” Tommy snarled. “You’re not ruining his life like you ruined mine.”

I snorted and spun around so we were practically chest to chest, our crotches meshed, and we had to hold onto one another just to remain upright. “Oh please. ‘Ruined’ your life? Dramatic much?”

Tommy surprised me by flinching. “I thought you’d understand.”

The words were probably in a normal tone, but the drums were so loud I could barely hear them. I knew what he meant. He wasn’t talking about my snide comment. He was talking about the last conversation we’d had before we stopped speaking for one and a half years. I had two options. Option A said I could be sympathetic. I had hurt him. That much was easy for anyone to see. I’d been the only “out” guy he’d known, and he’d told me about his crush on me in confidence. Sending the video to his mom’s blog had been a dick move. Posting it on her blog for the whole world to see had been a gigantic dick move. So I could try and make amends. Option B said I could be the cold, heartless bastard everyone assured me time and time again that I was. Such a conundrum.

“Yeah, well, sorry. I was not the fairy gay father.” I managed a downright evil grin and gave him a wink. “Though if you’re up for a round two, I’m sure I could muster up the magic.” I expected him to shove me away. I expected him to yell at me. I expected him to get disgusted and walk away. I did not expect him to kiss me. And I certainly did not expect to enjoy it.

Stupid fucking idiot
, I thought as he parted my lips with his tongue so they could tangle and he could express without words just how angry he was with me. He pressed our bodies together, making sure every inch was flush against mine. My head swam. Jesus. I’d forgotten that he was a hell of a kisser. He gave just the right dose of dominance and courtesy that I found exhilarating. I found myself clinging to his back as the kiss deepened further. I wanted him. And I hated him for that power over me.

I turned my head to the side to break the kiss, panting. He held me to him, unwilling to let me have the space I demanded. “Fuck you, Tommy,” I whispered. It was then I realized the boy I’d been in love with at thirteen, the same one who had threatened to kick my ass for being a queer and then turned around and admitted his crush on me a couple years later, still had the ability to make me breathless.

Chapter Four

“U
M
,
AM
I interrupting something?” Danny’s hesitant voice cut into our “quarrel.” I was the one who flinched under that scrutiny and pushed away from Tommy like a guy caught with his hands up his girlfriend’s skirt at her parents’ house. It couldn’t have been clearer that Danny had interrupted something if I’d painted it on my chest in neon. Of course, the enormous matching boners Tommy and I were sporting were pretty good signs as well.

I turned my attention to Danny, who was standing there, awkwardly holding two water bottles. He was glancing between the two of us like he’d missed something vitally important and was just now getting the memo. I sighed. Another prospect ruined. Everything was fucking my good mood in the ass today. First my shoes, then Cade, then my stepdad, now this. Fuck my life.

I held my hand out, and Danny placed the water bottle in my hand. The cold felt good against my palm, and I twisted the tap and took a deep swallow, ignoring Tommy beside me. After I’d had my fill, I put the cap back on.

“Thanks for getting me some water,” I said to Danny, giving him a sheepish smile. “I hate to bail so soon, but my parents are expecting me home soon, so I’ve got to go.” The lie came out easily, and even I heard the bark of disbelief from Tommy. I turned my head and shot him a “shut your damn mouth” glare before I reached out and clutched his cousin’s hand. “It was nice dancing with you. We’ll do it again sometime. Okay?” He nodded slowly, still not understanding what was going on between Tommy and me. I wanted to kick something. I looked at Tommy. “See you around.” For once I didn’t care that I was acting like a coward and fled.

Y
OU
know all those movies where the main protagonist leaves a bad situation and goes to the nearest payphone and calls a friend? I hate to inform Hollywood, but there are no fucking payphones anymore. Everyone and their grandmother has a cell phone. Everyone but me. I had better things to do with my paycheck. Like eat.

I finally was able to talk someone into letting me use their phone at a gas station a few blocks from the drum circle. The phone rang.
Pick it up, Kev
, I prayed. It rang again.
Please, pick it up, Kev.

“Hello?” There was a lot of noise in the background. He had to be at a party or something. It was Friday, so he was probably at the after-game hoedown over at Billy’s place.

“Hey,” I said into the receiver. “It’s me. I need a ride.”

“Jason? I can barely hear you, man.” A pause. “Hold on. Let me get outside.” Silence, shouting, cheering, more talking. Finally: “What’s the matter?”

“Can you come pick me up?” I asked, glancing anxiously at the lady who was impatiently tapping her foot. She wasn’t happy about letting me use her cell at all. I think if I moved even one of my legs in the wrong direction, she would pepper spray my ass.

As always, my knight didn’t ask questions. “Where are you?” I gave him the nearest street sign that I could see and some general landmarks and hung up the phone. I handed it back to the lady with a polite “thank you” before parking my butt on the curb to wait.

Twenty minutes later, Kevin pulled into the gas station. He had a very nice, very restored 1969 Corvette that his old man had bought for him and had forced him to fix up himself in an effort to teach Kevin the value of expensive things. He’d never had to buy the parts, but he’d certainly had to provide the labor. It was candy-apple red with brown leather upholstered seats that Kevin had even stitched his initials into—KDS, Kevin David St. James. I’d helped him on it a couple nights, but I usually spent more time on his workbench, picking dirt out from under my nails, than doing actual work. He put it in park and got out.