Room at the Edge (20 page)

There was a pause. Then they each claimed a key, and a moment later Liam found himself being hugged, being kissed, and if his eyes stung with tears, he managed to keep them from falling.

Chapter Eleven

“Hey, it’s me!” Austin called as he shoved the front door of his mom’s house open with his shoulder and almost dropped the box he was holding. A blast of warmth hit him—it was freezing cold outside, though they hadn’t had much in the way of snow yet—and he hastily kicked the door closed again to keep the heat in.

“You’re late,” his mother called. He followed the sound of her voice into the living room, where she was knitting on the couch. “I thought you were going to be here before lunch.”

“The morning kind of got away from me,” Austin said. He set the box down near the end of the couch. “Sorry. I should have called.”

She didn’t seem worried, though. “Here, just give me a second to finish this row, and then I can hug you.”

“Okay. I’ll go get another box.” In the amount of time it took Austin to collect the second of the four boxes from the backseat of his car, his mom had not only finished her row but left the living room altogether. “I feel like you’re avoiding me!” he told the ceiling loudly.

“I’m making you some cocoa!” she called from the kitchen.

“That would be great if I was ten years old!” he shouted back. “Two more trips.” He heard her laughing as he went outside again, and by the time he set the last box next to the couch, his fingers more than a little bit numb with the cold, cocoa was sounding pretty good. “Thanks,” he said and kissed her on the cheek.

“Tell me again why you’ve moved out and I’m still storing your stuff?” she asked.

Austin gave her an apologetic smile. “No room at the new place. And it’s things like old yearbooks—don’t want to toss them out, but I don’t really need them either.”

Sarah handed him a mug, fragrant steam rising. If she’d added marshmallows, Austin was going to drink around them, though. “You were so vague about the new place, and you hung up before I could ask you about it.”

He’d done that deliberately, but that wasn’t something he planned to share. “Uh, well, ask away.”

She clicked her tongue against her teeth, the exasperated sound so familiar that Austin felt a pang of homesickness. “No, you tell me. Sit down right here, and talk to your mom.”

Feeling like a spy captured by the enemy, about to be interrogated, Austin did as he was told. When he was obeying Liam, he never felt this young and helpless, but his mom, sweet though she was, could do it to him with a word or a look.

“We’re moving into a basement apartment in a house owned by a friend,” he began.

“Yes, you told me that. What friend? Is it bigger than your old place?”

“Yeah, I think it is, and it’s closer to work for both of us. I can cut maybe ten minutes off the ride into work by taking the freeway and coming off at the Wilson Street exit.”

“That’s good, but a basement… Is it damp? Dark?”

“No, it’s really nice,” he assured her and launched into a description of the basement’s amenities that made him almost wish he was moving into it. Still, it wasn’t as if they’d never go down there. Hole up and ignore Liam, no, but it’d be good to have the extra space for all of them to use, and Jay would definitely annoy Liam less if all his diorama supplies were out of sight. That moss got everywhere.

“It sounds lovely,” she said when he ran out of words. “You still didn’t say who the friend was, though. The way you describe the basement, it’s a big house, and unless one of your friends won the lottery…”

“Ha, they wish.” Austin licked his lips. “It’s Liam. I’ve, uh, mentioned him before, right?”

She frowned. “Liam? The man you introduced me to at the library last month?”

“Yeah. He was looking at Jay’s dioramas in the gallery show. You liked him.”

Her frown wasn’t going away. “Well, yes, he seemed charming—that adorable accent—but why on earth would he want you both living in his basement? He’s a lawyer, isn’t he? It’s not as if he needs the money.”

“He’s divorced,” Austin said, trying not to seem too eager to give an explanation. “Two kids about to start college, child support… And he’s away on business a lot, and he likes the idea of someone being there keeping an eye on the place.”

“He must miss his children,” Sarah said, and Austin knew she was talking about herself as much as Liam. She should be thrilled April was out of her hair for a while.

“He does. But it’s not like they’re little.”

Sarah had a cup of tea, but she was letting it sit like she always did until it was barely warm anymore. “That doesn’t matter. Was it a nasty divorce?”

“I don’t know.” Austin shrugged like it wasn’t important to him, which was a joke because this whole conversation felt like walking through a minefield. “He doesn’t really talk about it.”

“And asking questions is awkward.” Sarah nodded. “Still, maybe he wants to keep an eye on the two of you. Like you’re his substitute kids, since he misses his and isn’t a full-time parent.”

Austin managed not to choke on his last swig of cocoa, but it was a close thing. “Um…yeah. Maybe.”

“It could get tricky,” she warned him. “You’re his tenants, and you have rights, but remember it’s his house, and he’s not going to be happy if you’re playing your music too loud or having parties that go on late.”

“Mom!” he protested. “If we listen to music, we wear headphones, and I can’t remember the last time we had a party, wild or otherwise.”

“You’ll have a housewarming one, though, won’t you?”

Austin opened his mouth to say that wasn’t going to happen, then reconsidered. Showing everyone the apartment would hammer home the idea that they were tenants, no more than that, and people would expect them to do something to celebrate moving in.

“Sure, when we’re settled. A Saturday afternoon open house in a week or two, maybe. I’m not sure what days Jay has to work.”

“Am I invited?” Sarah asked, her eyes twinkling. “Or do I have to crash it?”

Austin snorted. “You know you’ll be there all day making sure it’s tidy and cooking enough food to feed an army.”

“You make it sound as if I’m one of those awful, interfering mothers,” she said indignantly but with a telltale blush. “I’ll come over to help if I’m asked, but otherwise—”

“You’re asked,” Austin said. “We couldn’t do it without you,” he added and watched her smile grow until she looked years younger.

They chatted for a while; then Austin stood and rolled up the sleeves of his heavy sweater. “Let me make a start moving the boxes down to the basement. Do you want them anywhere in particular?”

“No, just make sure they’re not blocking the stairs— Austin!” He turned his head and saw her staring at him, a concerned look on her face. “Whatever have you done to your arms? You’re black-and-blue!”

Shit, shit, shit. He’d forgotten the lingering bruises from the night Jay and Liam had taken turns holding him down; it had been easy enough to hide his arms under his shirtsleeves at work, especially since it was winter and cold enough to warrant long sleeves. Today he’d pulled the sweater on over the T-shirt he was wearing, figuring he’d be warm enough like that with the physical exercise of moving the boxes.

He’d already been too slow at replying to his mom’s concern. “Oh, these are old,” he said and continued down the stairs, hoping she’d let it drop even as he knew she wouldn’t. He should have come up with an explanation long before now—he wasn’t quick on his feet, and now that he was under scrutiny, his brain was caught in a whirlwind of self-recrimination instead of thinking up excuses.

“What happened?” Sarah asked, waiting at the foot of the stairs as he carried the box over to the shelves against the wall.

“Nothing,” he said. “Mom, it’s no big deal.”

“You’re covered with bruises,” she countered. “It’s a big deal to me, and it should be to you too.”

“Jay and I were trying to disassemble one of his old bookcases last week,” Austin said. “You know, getting ready to move. The thing must have been put together wrong, because he unscrewed one corner, and the whole thing fell apart on top of me. It was that one with the columns, remember?”

She didn’t look convinced, and he sighed. “Mom, I’m not a battered wife saying my black eye came from running into a wall.”

“And I’m not blind, and I can see those bruises are from fingers.” She came close enough to touch him, fitting her hand to a line of bruises, the match close enough to make her point.

He stepped back. “Mom, please. I’d tell you if something was wrong, and it isn’t. I—God this is embarrassing—I got them during sex, okay?”

“Jay did this to you?” Her eyes widened with shock. “Jay? I can’t believe— He seems such a gentle man. Austin, you have to tell him—talk to him.”

An inappropriate, ill-timed bubble of laughter was trying to force its way out, but Austin quelled it. There wasn’t anything remotely amusing about this, and if he started to laugh, he’d end up gasping for breath, mired in a panic attack. He wished Liam was here, a solid, comforting presence, infinitely reliable and calm.

“Mom, talking about my sex life with you is really, really awkward, which is why I lied to you just then—though the bookcase did fall on me—but trust me when I say he didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.” At more than one point, he’d begged for more, his voice cracking with the intensity of his need, the two of them using one hand to hold him down, the other to play with him, toying with his body until he was writhing, desperate, shameless, willing, as ever, to do anything for them, loving them so much in the moment of his climax that he’d felt tears sting his eyes. “Sometimes we, uh, we play a bit rough. Jay’s got bruises of his own, if that helps.”

“I’m… Well, I…” His mother’s face was flushed now, pink with embarrassment. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Join the club.” Austin wished she’d at least move out of the way so he could go back upstairs for another box. It wasn’t like he was going to bulldoze his way past her. “How about we just agree to pretend this never happened?”

Her eyes met his, serious. “Only if you promise me everything’s okay. You aren’t hiding anything from me?”

“Mom,” Austin said helplessly. “I’m an adult. I don’t tell you everything. I’m sure there are lots of things you don’t tell me—”

“That’s different. I’m your mother.” Sarah was firm, feet back on solid ground. That was good.

“I know. I just meant, there are things I’m not going to talk to you about. Like my sex life.”

“I don’t want to know about it,” she said. “As long as you’re not doing anything…dangerous.”

Part of him wanted to ask what she’d classify as risky, but he didn’t really want to know. Everything he did with Liam and Jay could look freaky to an outsider, but really, they didn’t push it too much compared to some couples he knew. Though if Liam and Jay ever played on their own, that might change. Austin knew Liam wanted solo sessions with both of them, and though he looked forward to being one-on-one with Liam, picturing what Jay would ask for when it was his turn made Austin’s stomach clench with a mixture of arousal and apprehension.

And the apprehension was the reason Liam didn’t want him there. He held Jay back, he knew it, and that wasn’t fair to any of them.

“I’m always careful. We both are. We love each other too much not to be.”

God, he’d come so close to saying
we all are.

Sarah sighed. “I suppose I’ve got to accept that, but I am not looking forward to the next time I see Jay.”

Austin did laugh then. “Thanksgiving’s only two days away, so you won’t have to wait long. Oh God, don’t blush when we come in! He’ll wonder what he’s done.”

“If you tell him…” Sarah looked mortified. “I couldn’t bear him to know I thought he was hurting you—or that we discussed what you do in bed.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Austin held up his hand. “Pinky swear. This conversation never happened, remember?”

As he drove back to Liam’s—to his home—he kept seeing the relief in her eyes as she’d agreed, but under it had there still been a lingering suspicion? He wasn’t sure, and it fretted at him until he snapped at Liam during supper and found himself over Liam’s knee, his ass stinging from a flurry of brisk slaps.

Knowing he’d earned it, turned on by the spanking, he let Liam’s hand beat the stress away—until he flashed back to his mom’s concerned face and started to struggle, as panicked as if she’d walked into the room and found him like this.

“Stop,” Liam said, one hand on his lower back and the other on his still-clothed shoulder. “Austin, stop.”

He stopped struggling, though it wasn’t easy, and as soon as he did, Liam helped him sit upright, an arm around his waist. “Sorry,” Austin gasped.

“What on earth was that?” Liam sounded calm. Calm was good; it helped Austin take a few deep breaths. He was aware of Jay watching from his chair.

“I don’t know.” It was a relief he hadn’t had to use his safe word because Liam knew him well enough to tell something was wrong. “It was good until I panicked. It wasn’t anything you did.” He looked at Liam quickly.

“I didn’t think it was,” Liam said. “But thank you for the reassurance.”

“Austin…” Jay was worried, and Austin didn’t blame him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I dropped that stuff off at my mom’s today.” God, sitting on Liam’s lap, his ass bare, with his pants around his knees while talking about his mom was so disgustingly wrong. He stood and pulled them up, fastening them. “She saw the bruises on my arms.” Austin yanked at his sweater sleeve and held out his arm in illustration.

“Fuck,” Jay said, summing it all up perfectly.

“Language,” Liam said automatically. “What happened then, Austin?”

He was breaking his promise to his mom, but he didn’t have a choice. “I told her some bullshit—” Liam cleared his throat meaningfully, and Austin apologized. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to swear. She didn’t buy it, so I told her some of the truth. Not all of it,” he added hastily when Jay’s eyes widened. “I just said we played rough in bed, and she was so embarrassed she didn’t want to ask many questions. She was worried about me.”

“Only natural,” Liam said, his voice gentle. “It’s difficult for an outsider to get what we do and why we like it, but for a parent it triggers all kinds of protective responses. I can see why she’d be disturbed.”