Code Word (The Atrous Series Book 3), page 13
“I meant it too.” I smiled at him, and he smiled right back at me. Something warm and lovely shivered through me, and his eyes . . . I couldn’t look away. Luke’s smile got all shy and his cheeks went pink.
Fuck.
I really fucking liked it.
He laughed at himself and then held out the plate of toast. I took one and bit into it. “Is good, thanks.”
He nodded and went to sip his coffee but then put it down. “Having second thoughts? Didn’t wake up in a panic or anything, wondering what on earth you were doing?” He grimaced. “I just . . . I need to ask, that’s all. It’s totally fine if you did. I get it. Waking up in bed with a guy, if you freaked out or something. Because I woke up and you were gone.”
I put my coffee and toast on the counter and wrapped him up in a crushing hug. “No regrets,” I whispered. “Did you?”
“No. Not at all. I just keep thinking it’s not real. That you’re gonna say uh, no, not for me, thanks.”
I pulled back; seeing the doubt in his eyes just about killed me. I cupped his face and pressed my forehead to his. “It’s real, Luke. I woke up thinking it was the best feeling in the world, that nothing had made more sense to me than waking up next to you. And the only word I could use to describe it was home. You feel like home to me. You are home to me.”
He smiled and got a little teary. “Oh.”
“Aaaaand I had to have a shower because I also woke up with a hard-on. Figured it was far too soon for that.”
His eyes went wide, then he gave me a shove. He also laughed and went bright red. “Jesus, Blake.” He shoved me again. “A cold shower, really?”
I snorted. “Oh, it wasn’t cold. Believe me, hot water, a soapy hand—”
He shoved me again, harder this time. “Shut the fuck up.”
I laughed as I picked up my coffee and took a sip. “I feel much better now, just so you know. And it was the first time I’d ever rubbed one out to fantasies of a guy, so . . .”
His eyes shot to mine, his cheeks burning red. “Blake.”
I shrugged it off, trying to play it cool. “You weren’t so shy in my fantasy, lemme tell ya.”
He balked for real this time and kinda shied away, and I knew I’d gone too far.
I put my coffee down again and pulled him in for another hug. It was easier to talk when he wasn’t looking at me. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I deal with shit with my terrible sense of humor, you know that. I, um . . . I’m trying to get my head around everything, and joking is easier than admitting to being scared.”
He relaxed in my arms then and eventually put his arms around me. “Scared, huh?”
“Shitless. That I’ll fuck this up; that you’ll leave me again. That you’ll wake up one day and realize this was a mistake, and then I’ll have nothing and no one.”
He sighed and pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m scared too.”
“And we shouldn’t be, right?” I asked. “Because it’s us. Because you know me, like no one else will ever know me. This is new, being like this with you is new, but it’s kinda familiar too. We should just be us. No pressure, just the same as we always have been. Best friends, but now we’re best friends with benefits.” I cringed. “Well, if we decide that benefits is what you want. We need to talk about that, I guess.”
He smiled, ducking his face. “I think I would, yes. If you want that, I’m definitely down.”
I snorted. “Hell yes. I wasn’t kidding about the fantasy in the shower.”
He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks flushed. “I don’t want to rush it. I want to do what feels right.”
“Same,” I admitted.
“Were you kidding when you said you asked Becca about what our sex lives might look like?”
“No, I totally asked her.”
He cringed. “I kinda hoped you were joking . . .”
I shrugged. “I don’t know how these things work. But taking it slow and doing what feels right sounds perfect.”
He smiled then, burying his face in my neck, and he hugged me for a long moment. “Thank you.”
“Whatcha thanking me for?” I asked, kissing the side of his head.
He pulled back. “For talking about this. And you’re right. This is us. Only better. Right?”
“Right.”
“We just have to be us.”
“Yep. Us. But now I can do this,” I said, tilting his chin up so I could press my lips to his.
That shy smile was back. “Yes, you can.”
Then he put his face back into the crook of my neck and my arms went around him so easily. We stayed like that for a long while, and I was content to never move. Looking over the top of his head out to the ocean, the sunshine, the peace. I coulda stayed like that forever.
But then he cleared his throat and pulled away, making a face and looking anywhere but at me. He backed up and turned around, heading for the stairs. “I, uh, I should go take a shower.”
I cottoned on immediately. “Five stars. Totally recommend jerking off.”
He shot me a pissy glare over his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up.”
I laughed and laughed, and he trudged up each step and gave me the bird before the door shut behind him.
I sighed happily—truly happy—finished my coffee and the remaining toast, then cleaned up. I went out to the patio, the warm salt air and sunshine felt amazing.
I lay back on the lounger and thumbed out a quick text to my folks.
In Mexico with Luke. Everything’s good now. Not sure how long for. Will be in touch.
Mom’s reply came straight through.
Becca let us know last night you were okay. Glad to hear it. Keep us posted. Love you.
I sighed.
Becca.
She really was the best, and I genuinely hoped our friendship would survive intact. Being Luke’s sister aside, I really wanted her in my life. She understood all the shit going on in my world and she seemed to be happy for Luke and me. I just hoped it wouldn’t get weird for her or that I was asking too much. Was it selfish of me to want her as a friend?
Maybe.
But I didn’t have many friends. I was beginning to wonder if I had any.
Outside of Luke, anyway.
It got me thinking about Wes, and how when he and Amy had the baby, he’d all but dropped out of our circle.
Or was it us not making the effort? Was it us excluding him?
Wes had a whole new life now, that was true. But I hated realizing how alone I was this last week, now Atrous was over, and I had to wonder if he felt the same.
So I sent him a text.
Hey. In Mexico with Luke, figuring shit out. Just wanted you to know I miss your stupid face. Any time you wanna hang out, just let us know. Give that cute kid a kiss for me.
Before I could second-guess myself, or wonder if that was too sappy, I hit Send. I needed to be a better friend to him, so that started now.
I considered texting Jeremy, and maybe I would later. I needed to apologize to him. But Maddox was still a nope, and I knew that was something I’d have to unpack. But for now, I’d been sappy enough.
But then my phone buzzed. It wasn’t a phone call but a FaceTime.
It was Wes.
His concerned face appeared on screen. “Hey. Everything okay?”
I smiled and rolled my ass off the lounger to show him the view of the beach. “It’s pretty damn good.”
“The view is nice,” he said. “But I’m talking about you. It’s not like you to text like that.”
I sighed and scrubbed my free hand over my face. “Yeah. I’m fine. I . . . I’m figuring shit out. Band stuff. Life stuff. I realized I haven’t been a great friend to you. I know you’re busy and all, being the dad of the year, but still. We should hang out more. Grill some shit or something.”
Wes snorted. “Well, I prefer to grill meat, but if you wanna grill shit, you can put that on your own grill.”
I laughed. “Do the dad jokes come naturally once you have a kid?”
Just then Luke came out, all showered and wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I showed him the screen. “It’s Wes.”
He waved. “Oh, hey,” Luke said. “How’s the fam?”
Wes fumbled the phone for a second, then a chubby little face appeared, bright eyes and what looked like jelly sandwich on her face. “Can dadda have some?” Wes asked.
“No!” she said.
Wes’s face reappeared and he sighed. “She’s a tough boss.”
He looked happy and content though. It made me smile. “We’ll let you go,” I said. “We’ll do lunch or something when we get back.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “I hope whatever you’re figuring out is okay.”
I pulled Luke against me, to his spot in the crook of my neck, and kissed the side of his head. “It’s pretty damn good,” I said.
Wes chuckled, but then he seemed to get it. “Oh. Holy shit. Okay, well, about time, I guess.”
Luke looked up at the screen. “I know, right?”
I sighed. “Yeah, okay. I know, I’m a dumbass. Like I said, I’m figuring shit out. Give me a break.”
Wes laughed, nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ll catch ya later. Be good.”
I ended the call and slid my phone onto the railing. Luke looked at me. “So, you just told Wes, huh?”
“Well, yeah.” Then it dawned on me. “Oh shit. Did you not want me to do that? Are we keeping this a secret? I didn’t think . . . If you’re not okay with it—”
“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to . . . want to . . . come out.”
“Come out?”
Oh.
Oh.
Fuck.
“Well, I’m not really. I’m not coming out as anything. I’m not anything. I’m just . . . I’m with you. Aren’t I? Is that what we are? Together? Because I just kinda assumed . . .”
His lips twisted in half a smile. “Together, huh?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Good.”
“But no coming out.”
I wasn’t sure if I was missing something.
“Do I have to come out as anything? I’m not . . . anything. I mean, I was pretty sure I was straight up until a few days ago, but I’m not into guys. I’m Luke-sexual. That’s all.”
He smiled more genuinely this time. “That’s fine.” Then he nodded back inside the house. “Come on. Get your shoes.”
Shoes?
“Why?”
“I thought we could go to the market. You need to get some stuff, right? You came here with nothing.”
True.
“Sure.”
“I’m sure the bike can carry both of us.”
I stopped.
“I’m sorry, what?”
He laughed. “We’re taking the moped.”
I stared at him. “The what? Since when do you know how to drive a moped?”
“Since four days ago.”
“Oh, great.”
He led me out the front of the house to a carport at the side where a freaking moped sat. He looked at me, at the bewildered look on my face, and grinned. He stepped on, fixing the stand thingy and turned the key. It sounded like a lawnmower, but his grin was spectacular, the way the sunlight caught his sandy hair and blue eyes, and he patted the seat behind him.
“Get on.”
I wasn’t gonna say no to sitting that close with him between my legs, pressed against his back with my arms around his waist. “Don’t go too fast,” I yelled so he could hear.
Luke laughed and pushed us forward . . . and off we went.
Down a narrow dirt road by the sea in Mexico. The sun, the breeze in our hair, being with Luke—it was all perfect.
The freedom.
He barely went over ten miles per hour. Granted, the road was bad, there were two of us on the bike, and neither of us had any protective wear on.
It was so freaking cool.
Like we were kids again, without a care in the world.
The market was basically a small open stall a few miles up the road in a small village, and a tiny convenience store a bit further inland. I got a toothbrush and some soap, some souvenir tank tops—Mexican flag, Cruz Azul, and Corona—two pairs of shorts, and a pack of underwear that I’m sure would feel like sandpaper, but I was happy with my purchases.
I was happy with everything.
Luke bought things like fruit and yogurt, tortillas and rice, and a six-pack of beer. He managed to speak a whole lot more Spanish than me, and we somehow got everything home on the moped.
He put stuff in the fridge while I pulled tags off clothes, then he bumped his hip to mine. “Happy looks good on you.”
I grinned at him. “That was so cool. The bike, the sun, you.” I laughed when he got all shy. “We could just go to the store. No one knew who we were. No one cared. No one looked twice.”
“Pretty sure they don’t expect world-famous singers to turn up on a ten-year-old moped.”
I sighed happily, looking out at the ocean. “I think we might have a problem though.”
He put his hand on my arm, concerned. “What’s that?”
I chuckled, leaned down, and kissed the spot right above his eyebrow. “The problem is, I don’t think I’ll ever wanna go home.”
THIRTEEN
Luke and I went for a swim in the ocean, we had some fresh fruit for lunch, and then we spent the afternoon on the patio in the shade, lazing on the lounge chairs while Luke strummed his guitar.
Perfect didn’t begin to cover it.
Pretty sure he thought I was joking when I said I didn’t ever wanna go home.
I wasn’t joking.
The rational part of my brain knew I was just thinking that because I didn’t want this bubble to burst. Because, rationally thinking, going back to LA and to the house we’d lived in for years—together, but not together—would burst the bubble of perfection I’d found here.
I wanted this to last forever.
“Do you think Alma would sell this house to us?” I asked.
Luke stopped strumming. “Ah, probably not. She said it was her parents’ before.”
“I was thinking of selling the house in Malibu,” I admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And when I went back there after I left the cabins, it really felt all wrong.”
“You never lived there,” he mused.
“Nope.”
“Maybe there were residual vibes from the eat-pray-love people,” he said, kinda joking, kinda not. “Maybe it just needs an exorcism, some sage burning, or whatever they do.”
“Pretty sure that’s something the eat-pray-love people would say.”
He might have meant that as a joke, but there was something underlying, like resentment?
“You know,” I said, gently. “I can’t change the fact I dated your sister.” His eyes shot to mine and I knew I’d guessed correctly. “There’s gonna be history and memories. I’m sorry. I wish I could shield you from that, but I can’t change it.”
He held his guitar, poised, ready to play. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
“I don’t want it to come between us. I don’t want you to resent me or her. Or for it to be something we can’t overcome. But I don’t want you to be smacked in the face with it every time you turn around, either.”
“Is that why you don’t want to go home?”
I sighed, put my arms behind my head, and closed my eyes. “Partly. I don’t want to go back to any of it. Our families aside, of course. But the fame, the fans . . . it’s not as bad as it used to be. But here, earlier today, we totally walked around the market and the store, and nobody knew us. Nobody cared. It was awesome.” I didn’t really want to admit this next part out loud, but god, I needed to say it. “I just feel . . .”
“You just feel what?”
I turned my head to look at him. “I feel like I need to leave Atrous behind. It’s not who we are anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it all: the tours, the concerts, the music, and getting to do it all with the guys. What we did, what we accomplished, the shit we saw. It was fucking insane.”
“But?”
“But that’s over. And I don’t know who I am.”
“Blake,” he murmured.
“No, don’t misunderstand. I don’t mean that I’ve lost all meaning or anything. I just mean . . . well, we were just kids, right? We signed at sixteen. Didn’t even finish high school like everyone else. We graduated via weblink because we were in Paris. Our lives were so far removed from ordinary. We were the pinnacle of fame and fortune—with the pressure, the stress, the injuries—and then boom.” I snapped my fingers. “It’s over.”
He nodded slowly. “I get it. I do.”
“I just want to be normal,” I added. “I don’t even know what normal is. But this,” I gestured to the house, to him and me. “This is honestly the best thing to happen to me in years. I’ve been here for less than one day, and I want this, whatever this is, forever. I want to stay here, just you and me, and forget the rest of the world exists.”
He strummed his guitar a few times, smiling out at the ocean. “I dunno about forever,” he said eventually. “But maybe we could check out the real estate down here for a vacation place.”
I grinned at him. “For real?”
He laughed and strummed some more, one of the songs he’d played in the studio at the cabins. “And maybe I should sell my house,” he said.
“Back home?”
He nodded, strumming quietly. “It’s too big. There’s no point in having a party house when our partying days are well behind us.”
“True.” It was too big. That house could seriously have its own zip code. But then something occurred to me. “Um, did you still want me to live with you? Is that still . . . are we . . . What I’m trying to say is . . . ?”
He laughed. “Are we still talking in complete sentences?”
I snorted. “Shut up. I need to know if I’m looking for a new place. Because you told me at the cabins you needed me to move out, so does that still stand? Are we not gonna live together anymore?”
He clearly found something amusing. “Well, yeah of course we are. And I didn’t tell you to move out. I just needed some time without you. I was trying to go cold turkey, remember?”
