Marie Sexton - Coda 03 - The Letter Z (3 page)

So we’re sittin’ there like always workin’ the puzzle together when Matt and Jared show up. We haven’t seen ’em in a few days, and I’m happy to see Matt. I’m not so happy to see Jared. My encounter with Cole didn’t change anything between me and Zach at all, but it definitely fucked up my friendship with Jared. It’s not like he’s an asshole or anything. Not really. But somehow he’s a little more uptight with me now, and the smiles he gives me aren’t quite so genuine. I try to pretend like nothin’ happened; like I don’t know that he’s still a little bit pissed. But even now, after two fuckin’ months, things between us are weird. I know it annoys Zach and confuses and Matt, who has no clue what went down, but I don’t know how to make it right.

They come inside, and Zach comes out of the kitchen with beers for both of ’em, and we all sit down in the livin’ room. I can tell Jared’s excited ’bout somethin’.

“What’s up?” I ask him.
“Next week’s spring break,” he blurts out, all in a rush. ’Course that doesn’t matter to anybody but him. He’s a teacher, so it means he gets the week off.
“
And
?” I say, ’cause there’s obviously more.
“I think we should go to Vegas.”
“
Next week
?” Zach asks.
“Yeah! I found a great deal on rooms, and if we drive instead of flying, it won’t cost us much at all. It’s only about twelve hours if the weather’s good, and between the four of us we could easily drive straight through.”
“I’d have to close the store,” Zach says.
Jared’s smile gets bigger. “No, you wouldn’t. We can leave early Monday morning and be home by Thursday night.” That means Zach and I won’t miss any of the nights when we’re actually showin’ movies in the back half of the store. “And during the week, we got that covered. We—” Matt suddenly smacks him on the back of the head. Jared looks a little sheepish, but goes on, “
I
already talked to Lizzy and the moms. They said they would take care of everything.”
When we were in Denver, Zach and I covered the store ourselves. But now that we show movies on weekend nights, too, it’s turned into a

lotta hours for two people. We have part-time employees who help on the weekends, during the shows, but it still makes for a hella-long week. So a couple months ago, Lizzy volunteered to help. She decided she might like to work a few hours a week, just to get away from doin’ the mom thing all day, every day, and ’course Zach let her. But for some reason, after that Jared’s mom Susan decided she’d like to help out too. And then Lucy, Matt’s mom, decided to come along and keep Susan company.

None of ’em have regular hours—they just show up whenever it suits ’em. I think they like bein’ able to hang out and gossip with whoever comes in the store. Zach tries to pay ’em, but only Lizzy ever bothers to clock in or out. Truthfully, it’s sort of a ridiculous setup, and at first I hated havin’ ’em ’round. Lizzy talks too much, and the moms just make me nervous. But it saves Zach money, and it gives us both a break from the store now and then.

Jared’s still sittin’ there, with a grin from ear to ear, waitin’ for an answer. Matt’s obviously amused more by Jared’s enthusiasm than by the idea of Vegas, but I know he’ll do whatever Jared wants in the end. Zach’s thinkin’ ’bout it, but I can’t tell if he really wants to go or not.

And me? I feel like a kid who just found out Santa’s comin’ twice this year. I’m so excited, I can barely hold still. I never been to Vegas. Never been anywhere, actually, ’cept when I was in third grade and my foster family took me with ’em to Yellowstone. Other than that, I never even been out of Colorado. Jared could’ve said he wanted to drive to Kansas to sit in the middle of a fuckin’ cornfield, and I would’ve been game. Still, I hate to look like a wide-eyed kid, so I’m doin’ my best to play it cool and act like it’s no big deal.

“I guess maybe we could go,” Zach says, but he sounds skeptical. Then he turns and looks at me. Guess my poker face isn’t as good as I think it is ’cause as soon as his eyes meet mine, he smiles, and then he says to Jared, “We’re in.”

We leave on Monday morning at five o’clock. Zach and Jared are both grumpy and complainin’ ’bout it bein’ too early. Matt and I ignore ’em. We stick ’em in the back seat of Jared’s Bronco and they’re both asleep again before Matt and I even finish our first cup of coffee.

Matt and I end up doin’ most of the drivin’. I take the first leg. He takes over next. Zach and Jared wake up, and one of ’em pulls out a game of travel rummy.

“Watch out, Zach,” Matt says, glancin’ back at them in the rearview mirror. “Jared cheats.” I laugh, ’cause Jared seems like such a fuckin’ Boy Scout. I’m sure Matt’s jokin’. But then he looks right at me and says, “I’m serious. He cheats.” Jared throws the cap of his Dr Pepper at him and actually hits him for once. “Hey! Don’t mess with the driver!” Matt snaps. “You want to end up in the ditch?” And I think he’s halfway serious ’bout that, too, and now I’m
really
laughin’.

“Honestly,” Jared says innocently, “Matt caught me cheating
one time
, and he’s never let me live it down.”

“Are you saying you only cheated one time?”
“I said you only
caught me
one time.”
“See?” Matt says triumphantly. “You can’t trust him.”
“What’s that?” I ask. “The lesson of the day?”
“Sure is,” Jared says. “Brought to you by the letter C.” “C for ‘cheater’?” Matt asks.
“C for ‘clever’.”

Eventually we switch off, and Matt and I get in the back seat. He leans back and goes to sleep in ’bout five seconds flat. He can always do that. I think they teach it in cop school. I can’t sleep. Not that there’s much to see, but every bit of it’s new to me. I feel like if I close my eyes, I’ll miss somethin’.

We get to Vegas, and it’s a good thing I’m not drivin’ ’cause we’d definitely end up in an accident. I know my eyes are ’bout to pop out of my head. I’m tryin’ to stare everywhere at once. We find our hotel and wait our turn at the check-in desk. “I have you down for two rooms, each with one king bed. Is that correct?” the lady asks us, not even battin’ an eye at the fact that she’s sayin’ that to four guys.

“Yes,” Jared says.

“No,” Zach says. Matt and Jared’s heads both whip in his direction in surprise. I look the other way so they can’t see me blushin’. But Zach doesn’t blush at all. He just says, “We need two beds in our room.”

Our rooms are on the same floor but not exactly close to each other. We take our bags up then meet back downstairs.

 

“Dinner first,” Jared says. “What should we do after that?” “It doesn’t matter to me,” Zach says. “Whatever Angelo wants to do.”

 

I have to shrug. “Don’t even know what there is
to
do,” I say.

We all look over at Matt, and he shrugs too. “The times I was here before, my friends and I spent all of our time gambling or going to strip clubs.”

“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Of course. What else would you come to Vegas for?” I shake my head and say jokingly, “You disgust me, Matt.”

He gives me that half-ass smile he uses instead of a real one, with one eyebrow up, and says, “What’s wrong with gambling?” and I have to laugh.

“I never gamble when I’m here,” Zach says. “I can’t afford to.” “I don’t gamble either,” Jared says.

“You guys know why Jared doesn’t gamble, right?” Matt says to Zach and me. “It’s because he can’t cheat in Vegas.”
Jared just smiles and doesn’t say a word.

We get out onto the Strip and start walkin’. First intersection, there’s a bunch of guys handin’ out little cards. One of them shoves one in front of me, and I hear Zach say, “You don’t want that,” but it’s too late. I already grabbed it, and when I turn it over, I ’bout drop it again.

“What the fuck?” I ask. “They can’t hand out pictures of naked chicks!”

 

“Apparently,” Jared says to me, “they can.”

I hand it to Matt. “Think they meant to give this to you,” I say, and he just laughs.
They decide we’re goin’ to New York, New York for dinner. Jared wants a hot dog. Zach and Matt give him a hard time ’bout comin’ all the way to Vegas just to get a fuckin’ hot dog, but he’s made up his mind. I could care less where we go or what we eat. It’s all new to me. I’m so busy lookin’ ’round I’m not watchin’ where I’m goin’. I keep bumpin’ into people, and I’ve totally lost track of whatever the others are talkin’ ’bout. I know they’re laughin’ at me a little. At this point, I don’t even care. In the end, I grab onto the back of Zach’s jacket and just trail along behind him like a little kid, with my eyes huge and unbelieving.
“Is that a roller coaster?” I ask when we get to New York, New York. I don’t get a chance to ride roller coasters very often, but I fuckin’ love ’em. “Can we ride it?” I ask.

“Hell, yes!” Jared says, but Zach looks skeptical.

“We better do that
before
we eat,” he says, and he already looks a little bit green. So we ride the roller coaster first. I ’bout have a coronary when I see how much it costs, but we do it anyway. Twice. Then we have dinner and a couple of drinks.

“What now?” Jared asks.

 

“The Bellagio,” Zach says, lookin’ at me. “Now that it’s dark, I want Ang to see the fountains.”

I got no clue what fountains he’s talkin’ ’bout or how they can be that interesting, ’specially in the dark. But I follow ’em back north and we stop at The Bellagio. There’s a little manmade lake in front of it and they all stop and lean against the stone railing there, just starin’ at that stupid lake. I try to see what’s so great ’bout it. I mean, yeah, the hotel is kinda cool, but I’m thinkin’ the one behind us with the Eiffel Tower stickin’ up out of it looks more interestin’. And I’m wonderin’ if the fountain he’s talkin’ ’bout is inside or what.

Like he’s readin’ my mind Zach says, “Just wait.”
So I wait.
Shoulda known Zach knew what he was talkin’ ’bout.

The fountains start, and I’m in awe. It’s that stupid song out of
Titanic
, and I always thought it was cheesy before. Kinda hate to admit that those fountains might make me change my mind. But there’s jets of water with lights in ’em, and it’s like they’re dancin’. Don’t know how somethin’ so simple can be so beautiful, but it is. Even after it ends, I’m just starin’ at that lake. I turn to find Zach smilin’ down at me.

“This is my favorite part of Vegas,” I say.
“It’s the only thing you’ve seen.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “It’s still my favorite part.” Eventually we get back to the room. I strip down to my boxers and

T-shirt and lay down on one of the beds. The others all slept on the drive over, but I didn’t. I’m exhausted.

At home, I still fall asleep in my own bed most nights. That’s why Zach asked for two beds. He was tryin’ to make sure I still had space if I needed it. Bedtime is when that stupid bird in my chest acts up the most. At some point in the night I always wake up and wander into Zach’s room, like a little kid crawlin’ into his parents’ bed when he’s scared. Half the time I don’t even remember doin’ it. Sometimes, I come home late from my job at the grocery store so tired I don’t even get undressed. I just fall down on my bed and fall asleep fully clothed. Then I wake up after a bit and leave a trail of clothes down the hallway from my bed to his. He always wakes up enough to pull me against him. He fits against me just right. We usually drift off again for a while. An hour or two later I might wake him up by pushin’ back against his groin, or goin’ down on him. Or he might wake me up as he pushes me onto my stomach and pushes into me. However it happens, it’s my favorite part of the day. We make love almost every morning.

I’m layin’ there, half-asleep. Zach turns on the TV, sits on the foot of my bed and starts to rub my feet. That’s another thing nobody’d ever done for me before Zach, and I’d had no idea how good it could feel. If my eyes weren’t closed already, they’d be rollin’ back in my head. He massages the right one, then the left while he watches TV. Then he trails his fingers from my toes up to my knees. A second later I feel his lips brushin’ the inside of my ankle. I don’t open my eyes, but I smile.

“What’re you doin’?” I ask.
“I think I love your feet,” he says quietly, and I have to laugh. “You’re so weird.”
“Maybe, angel. But not for this.”

He kisses my ankle again and starts to work his way up. He’s almost reached my knee by the time I fall asleep.
Matt…

A
S USUAL
, I woke up before Jared. And as usual, I woke to find myself hugging the edge of the mattress, while he lay sprawled naked on his stomach in the middle of it, taking up most of the bed.

In his defense, I had all of the covers.

His head was turned away from me. His skin was pale gold, lightly freckled on his arms and shoulders. His body was hard and lean and absolutely amazing. I debated letting him sleep—but only for a moment.

Jared and I didn’t fuck very often. It still made me a little uncomfortable, especially when I topped. In fact, he hadn’t bottomed since that night on our living room floor, just before Christmas, more than a year before. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed fucking Jared—of course I had—but afterward I felt bad about it. It felt wrong to me. Jared was strong and hard and masculine in my mind. He was smaller than me, but he was tough as hell, and he could kick my ass on any mountain biking trail. Somehow, having him bottom made me feel like I had used him, or shamed him. I knew he didn’t understand, but he let it go. We fooled around a lot, and when he asked, I would bottom for him. But generally, it wasn’t something we worried about. There were plenty of other ways for us to get each other off.

I maneuvered past his outstretched arm and leg. I kissed his shoulder, and the tattoo between his shoulder blades. I ran my hand down his back and between his legs. He stirred a little, enough to roll onto his side with his back toward me.

“You awake?” I whispered.

“Mmmmmm,” was the only response I got. He teased me all the time that “you awake?” was my idea of foreplay. Jared wasn’t exactly a morning person, even when it came to sex.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tighter against me. I wedged my erect cock into that warm crease between the globes of his ass and his legs. I loved the friction of thrusting between his thick, muscular thighs. He settled back into my arms with a sigh as I pushed against him. I ran one hand down his stomach. He didn’t move, but moaned quietly when my hand found his morning erection. I started to stroke him slowly while thrusting between his legs. He pushed back against me and put one of his hands on top of mine, urging me to go faster. I buried my face in his mess of curls. Even now, his hair smelled like the Colorado wind. My lips found his shoulder. I started out kissing him, but it wasn’t long before it turned into something more aggressive, and I heard him moan again in response. I kept stroking him as my own thrusts sped up.