Neon Yellow: Obsessive Adhesives (11 page)

Read Neon Yellow: Obsessive Adhesives Online

Authors: Andy EBOOK_AUTHOR Ali Slayde EBOOK_AUTHOR Wilde

"Uh-huh.” Jason's lips were leaving little kisses along Spencer's neck. “Get naked and let me ravish you in the great outdoors."

"No,” Spencer whispered. Tempting as it was, the mood was broken by his over active imagination.

"Didn't hurt to ask.” With one last nibble on Spencer's neck, Jason looked over in the same direction as Spencer. “Well?"

"Well what?"

"Any movement? More noises?"

"Not that I noticed.” But the truth was that every little sound seemed amplified in Spencer's ears. He needed to relax. Was it too early for a drink?

"C'mon. Back to the tent. It's more open there. Brought you out here to relax, not make you more jumpy."

"Sorry.” Spencer stood. “Don't know why I'm so jittery."

"No need to apologize. You're bound to be skittish.” Jason looked around. “Maybe I should've brought a gun."

"What?” Spencer was shocked at the revelation. He detested guns. “I'm glad you didn't."

"What if...?” Jason didn't finish the sentence, shaking his head instead. “Yeah, you're right. I haven't got one, anyway.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed Spencer's hand, setting off up the slope and back down the trail.

What if what? Spencer didn't like the implications it suggested. Surely the ass who was leaving notes and wrecking his home wouldn't be
here
. Before he knew it, they were back at camp,

"I'll get some firewood.” Spencer walked over to where they had placed their supplies. “Do you know where the axe is?"

"It'll be there somewhere. I'm sure I brought it.” Jason was shrugging back into his jacket. “Don't wander too far."

"I won't.” Spencer donned his own jacket and looked over the supplies again. “I don't see it anywhere."

"Maybe I didn't bring it. I remember putting it with everything else to go out to the car.” Jason shrugged. “We'll just have to have a smaller fire, then."

"No problem, there's enough dead wood littering the area.” Spencer headed back down the trail.

Stopping to pick up another dead branch, Spencer noticed that he'd wandered farther from camp than he'd wanted to. Suddenly he felt very alone and very vulnerable. Every sound had him jumping out of his skin. Every damn horror movie he'd ever seen popped into his mind. At this point, Spencer was almost expecting some axe wielding, psychopathic behemoth to ambush him. After quickly gathering as much firewood as he could, Spencer high tailed it back to camp, not once looking back. His racing heart started to slow once Jason came into view. Dumping the wood next to the fire pit, Spencer slumped into one of the chairs.

"You didn't happen to bring any whisky?"

Jason held up two bottles. “That I did bring. You okay?"

"Yeah, just letting my imagination get the better of me.” Spencer took one of the bottles. “Glasses or straight from the bottle?"

Jason handed Spencer a glass. “Let's try to remain civilized while your psyche is playing havoc with your well-being.” He laughed. “Damn, I'm beginning to sound like Sky."

Laughing, Spencer opened the bottle and poured a liberal amount into his glass. “Before you know it, you'll be reading tarot cards and cleansing auras.” Not that there was anything wrong with that, Spencer liked Sky and couldn't picture him any other way.

"Ha ha, no!” Jason poured some whisky into another glass and sat in the other chair. “We need to talk about this stalker thing. You know that."

"Yes.” Spencer sighed; it was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “It has to be someone from work. But who?"

"I've been doing some thinking,” Jason spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “I'm pretty sure it's not the girls. And it has to be someone who had the time on Friday to trash your house."

"Who had the time?” Spencer took a sip of his drink. “I don't remember who left when, or who was even there Friday."

"Everyone was at work but...” Jason thought for a minute. “You went to sleep with five minutes to go and I let you sleep for... I dunno, twenty minutes because I had something to do. And you needed it.” He finished his whisky in one mouthful. “So, it could be almost any of them, unless anyone can give us a time when it happened."

"Who knows if we'll ever know that?” Spencer downed the rest of his whisky. “I agree, it's not one of the girls. So who then? Eli? Mark? Steven?"

"None of them seem capable. I can't see Steven caring enough to stalk anyone. If it hasn't got a football attached, he doesn't want to know."

Spencer nodded. “Mark doesn't seem the type either, but he did see us leave Sky's shop and get into Nathan's Mustang. But that's not proof either. And Eli seems so innocent...” Spencer snorted a laugh. “It's probably him, the one no one would expect."

"Eli? Nah, I just... No, he just doesn't seem the type. Nor does Mark, but he saw you? How do you know?"

"He told me.” Not something Spencer wanted to remember either. “When I was waiting for you at The Golden Dragon.” The
when you stood me up
was wisely omitted.

"When I stood you up.” Jason grinned. “Honestly, love, it was unavoidable. Kinda wish I'd told the boss where to stick his hard drive, and got to know you better, sooner.” He poured more whisky and crouched down by the wood Spencer had brought back, building the fire. “Mark could have just been making an observation. Did he say anything else?"

Spencer tried to think back to the conversation he'd had with Mark. Had it only been Wednesday? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"He just asked if we'd had a big weekend, that he'd heard you know how to party.” Was that enough to make Mark the prime suspect?

Jason snorted a small laugh. “That's just gossip. How the Hell would he know?” He shook his head. “Nah, think you're safe from the accounts staff. Who else do you interact with?"

"No one who would have access to the office.” Spencer hated to admit that. “It probably is one of the girls—Rosa—giving me what I deserve for not being
normal
. We don't have any
proof
it's a man."

"No, it's not Rosa.” Jason shook his head. “She's just... confused. Her brother has just come out and her father is furious. Only sons, in some families, just aren't gay. Apparently, he's threatening all sorts of horrendous things, just short of disowning him. It's hard on her."

That explained a lot, but Spencer wasn't willing to cross her off the list quite yet. “How well do we really know anyone from work? Face it, before our meeting at Sky's shop, you never would have given me another thought."

Striking a match, Jason held it to the scraps of paper to ignite the fire, watching as it took hold and gained strength. He looked up at Spencer. “You think?"

"How long have we been working together? And nothing, so yeah, I think so."

"Not to freak you out or anything, love, but I've been becoming more and more obsessed by you for a few months now. I didn't even realize how much. But you're right. I knew nothing about you, not even how to approach you.” Jason jumped up. “Just gonna see if I can find more wood, won't be a sec.” He gestured to the pile Spencer had found. “It's so dry, this won't last long.” He loped away from the clearing.

That was not the answer Spencer was expecting. With his luck, Jason was his stalker. Spencer shook his head, he knew deep down that that wasn't true. Jason had been a pillar of support for Spencer during this whole mess. Most people just getting to know one another would give up, cut their losses and not look back if faced with a similar situation. Hopefully, they'd get back home tomorrow and find out the stalker had been caught. Unlikely, but Spencer could dream.

Jason jogged back and dropped more small branches on the ground. “This'll help. I'll go and find some more before it gets dark.” He added a couple of small logs to the fire and sat back down. “Am I your stalker?"

"No. You have an alibi for both times my home was broken into.” Spencer smiled and stood. “I can start dinner now, if you like."

"Sounds good. What do you want me to get out the cooler?"

"The hamburgers.” Spencer walked over to the supplies and found the big skillet, cutting board and cutlery. “Some cooking-spray too."

The hamburgers were tossed over to Spencer without warning. He caught them and remembered he'd also asked for cooking spray, which came sailing through the air toward him moments later, followed by an onion. Jason placed plates and cheese slices, a tomato and ketchup on the table. He grabbed the cutting board and a knife and sliced the tomato.

"Here, catch.” Spencer threw the onion back to Jason. “Slice this too, and I'll fry it with the hamburgers."

About thirty minutes later, Spencer and Jason sat, contentedly eating their make-shift hamburgers and drinking whisky. “Don't suppose you brought a guitar so we can sing camp-fire songs, did you?” Jason asked.

"Nope, can't hold a tune to save my life.” Spencer took a sip of his whisky. “I don't even sing in the shower."

"So, what else can we do?” Jason mock pouted. “Play chess? Cards? Charades maybe?"

"Tell ghost stories and roast marshmallows.” Spencer laughed. “It'll be dark soon, it'll add to the ambiance."

Jason sighed, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, it's like going camping with my ten year old nephews.” He laughed. “How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm twenty-two.” Spencer answered, leaning back in his chair. “Am I really as bad as your nephews?"

"Not even close. I'd much rather be here with you. You don't squirm when I hug you."

Spencer's laugh echoed through the campsite. “At least I have that going for me."

"And more."

Spencer blushed as Jason, leering, looked him up and down. Spencer remembered that morning—how could he
ever
forget it?—and wondered what tonight would bring. He was looking forward to the night, as well as wanting to prolong their awake time as much as possible. Talking to Jason while they'd been preparing their dinner—as comfortable with each other as if they'd been together for years—had been almost as stimulating as sharing intimate time with him had been. Jason knew so much about astronomy and had promised to point out as many constellations as he could tonight. He'd also been interested in what Spencer had to say about the area and its geological aspects, fascinated by Herkimers—which he confessed to liking because he liked sparkly things.

"Where did you put the lantern?” Jason asked later, as dusk was darkening the sky.

"I didn't touch the lantern. Why?” Spencer turned his gaze from the fire to Jason.

"I can't believe I forgot to bring the lantern
and
the axe.” Jason shook his head. “I'm sure I didn't. I had to move it when I put the food back in the car."

That was odd. Spencer stood and joined Jason in searching their supplies. “It has to be here somewhere. It didn't just get up and walk away."

"Maybe I'm being distracted too easily.” Jason winked at Spencer.

The heat blossomed on Spencer's cheeks and he was thankful for the lack of lighting. “Maybe it was a raccoon? I had one steal toothpaste from my tent once. They get inquisitive."

Jason looked around. “A raccoon? Hopefully nothing bigger."

"Anything bigger and we'd be missing more than a lantern.” Spencer could almost picture an inquisitive raccoon dragging their supplies away, one by one.

"Well, let's hope it's only being inquisitive and not murderous. It may have the axe as well."

"It needs it for den renovations.” Spencer didn't think the loss of their lantern was such a big deal; they were only staying one night. “We'll have to make do with firelight."

"And flashlights.” Jason held one up under his chin and pulled a scary face. “Not good for ambience, but they will do."

"Now who's acting like a child?” Spencer laughed and sat back in his chair. Grabbing the whisky bottle, he topped off both their glasses. No reason he couldn't indulge a bit.

"Wait'll you meet the twins. Then you'll understand where I get it from."

"Your family is okay with you being gay?"

"Yeah. I think they'd rather I wasn't, but they know there's nothing they can do about it. And my mum loves Thad. They have the same taste in accessories."

"Oh,
that's
good.” Spencer never should have asked. He brought the glass to his lips and slammed back its contents.

"Which really is one of the reasons why Thad and I will only ever be friends,” Jason continued. “The last thing I need is a boyfriend wearing a scarf that smells like my mum."

"I can see how that would be a turn off.” Spencer leaned forward and tossed another branch on the fire.

"And, while Thad is fun, I prefer my men a little less flamboyant.” Jason dropped his arm around Spencer's shoulders and pulled both him and his chair closer. “You'll like him, you won't be able to help yourself."

The simple act of pulling the chair closer had Spencer forgetting all about why he disliked Thad. He could definitely get used to having Jason around.

"Did we bring any marshmallows?” Spencer hoped it was a subtle change of subject.

"I don't dare to look, in case I think I did and find they're not there."

Spencer was laughing, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot with Jason. “Probably better you don't look then. They are a little messy anyway."

"I have got chips.” Jason pulled a bag of plain chips from the box of supplies next to his chair. “Think that will sustain you?"

"It's a start.” Spencer said reaching for the bag. “Chips and whisky, an interesting combo."

"The staple diet of the average American male."

Spencer popped a chip his mouth and washed it down with his whisky. “I'll just have to work it off later."

"I'm pretty sure we can find a way of doing that,” Jason said lightly and kissed Spencer's temple. He left the ring of their camp fire and returned a moment later with a couple of outdoor blankets, which he spread out on the dirt near the fire. He sat on one and patted the space next to him. “C'mere, it's pretty hard to star gaze from a chair."

No-one needed to ask him twice. In one swift move, Spencer left the chair and settled next to Jason. He was amazed, as he always was, at how many more stars were visible here than back home.

Home.

"Fuck. I'm going to have to find a new place to live.” No way in Hell was Spencer going to continue renting his place. Going back to pack his belongings didn't even sit well with him. If he weren't such a sentimental fool, he'd just leave everything and buy new. His new place would be bigger, nicer—more heavily defended against lunatic assholes.

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