Saugatuck Summer (Saugatuck, #1)(97)
Then I sat through the rest of the service with my head on Jace’s shoulder and Mo’s hand clenched in mine, crying softly.
Connected to you like never before
Losing my fear as I reach your shore
For so many years I pretended I didn’t need anyone
But I know that I need you now
I know that I need you now
—Casey Stratton, “Static into Sound”
Jace and I went back to Saugatuck immediately after the graveside service. I didn’t want to be there in Flint anymore, in that impersonal hotel or at my grandmother’s house, surrounded by relatives I sometimes still hated as much as I loved them.
I wanted to be home.
Mo had said she would call me “sometime” as she left the funeral. I didn’t know what “sometime” meant, but I wasn’t going to press my luck. She would come to me in her own time. Or she wouldn’t. Maybe our friendship still wouldn’t recover. I owed it to her to leave the choice entirely in her hands. I’d forfeited all right to request anything of her.
To my astonishment, the paintings were back in Robin’s shop. Robin hadn’t accepted them on consignment from Brendan, he’d simply refunded Brendan’s money. Which meant that Robin was temporarily out fifteen thousand dollars. I didn’t even bother to offer to give him back the money he’d passed on to me, or tell him he could pay me when the paintings sold again. Jace probably would have throttled me, and really, the game of Hot Potato with that fifteen thou was getting f*cking ridiculous. Besides, Robin assured me, he would make it back as soon as they sold again, and they would sell, so I wasn’t to worry about it.
Brendan had also left a very short note for me.
Topher,
I’m sorry.
Take care of yourself and be happy.
Brendan
The note caused my throat to tighten unexpectedly, and I found myself missing Brendan. Not the man I’d had the idiotic affair with, but my best friend’s dad, who had befriended me and shown me a level of kindness and understanding I hadn’t expected. The man who had been my confidant for a few peaceful weeks. I wished I could go back to the beginning of the summer and do it all over again, without the stupid mistakes, so I wouldn’t have to lose him.
Robin and Geoff ordered take-out Chinese and we had a quasi-wake in their dining room. I spent most of it holding Zhen, who decided to mark the day by gracing me with her first-ever social smile. Holding her also turned out to be a better mood lifter than any antidepressant ever. I sat there copping sniffs of her warm, downy head and smiling responsively as the conversation flowed around me. If anyone minded that I didn’t contribute much, they didn’t say anything, other than to inform me that when Robin and Geoff ended up making their marriage “official” someplace where it was legal, I was on the hook to sing at the wedding.
It didn’t matter that they were flattering me; I was still too much of a diva not to preen.
That night, snuggled together in bed in the apartment over Geoff’s studio, Jace hummed thoughtfully and kissed my shoulder.
“So. You move back to campus next week.”
“Oh shit, don’t remind me,” I sighed, drawing his arm tightly around me. “Coach is gonna kick my ass. I haven’t swum in weeks. I’m going to have to really bust my balls this season if I want to keep my scholarship.”
“Are you going to move into the dorms?”
“No. I think I’m going to splurge and get my own apartment. I should have the money for it if I don’t go overboard.” I rolled to face him, a tension tugging at my nuts that hadn’t been there much at all these past few weeks. “I don’t want to have to deal with a pesky roommate when I want to f*ck you on the sofa.”
“Hmmm, that would simplify things,” he murmured, smiling as I began to use my tongue to trace some of the elaborate swirls of tattoos that started at his neck and cascaded down his chest and arms. He gasped and arched when I reached his nipple, sucking and tonguing it with intent.
He seemed like he might be on the verge of adding something else to the conversation when my hand found his dick. Then it didn’t really feel like we needed to say anything.
It was like discovering him all over again. I explored with my hands and mouth, nipping, pinching, sucking. We had hardly touched each other except for comfort purposes for weeks, and suddenly I was starved for the feel of his skin against mine. We scrambled out of our boxers like they were on fire, rolling together on the bed, sharing long, deep kisses, some slow and lingering, others hard and urgent. He got me onto my back and, holy shit, apparently my mind hadn’t been entirely on the “suck you dry” distraction he’d given me that night in the hotel, because that gorgeous red mouth of his felt far more f*cking incredible than I remembered. He brought me right to the very edge before I pushed him away.
“No! No . . .” I lay there and panted, pinching the base of my cock until it hurt trying to drive the orgasm back. “No. I want to f*ck you.”
Then there was more tussling and rolling, more hard, desperate kisses full of tongue and teeth. I ended up lying atop him, sliding our cocks together in a complete inability to stop my hips from thrusting against him. He toyed with my nipple piercings, tugging firmly enough to capture my undivided attention. They were nearly healed now; the pressure added just the right amount of ache.