You're Always in the Last Place You Look (12 page)

Still holding my pant leg, he nodded slightly. “St-stay, p-please?” His ragged voice implored.

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he released me, and pulled himself into a ball. Swinging the door closed, I retrieved my phone from where it had landed near the wall.

“Dad? Yeah, sorry, misdial...honest, everything’s good...Mm-hm, you too.” I hung up while staring at Zane, hoping I hadn’t just lied yet again to my father. Crouching down, I set my phone on the nightstand, and had my hand snatched out of the air, and coddled beneath Zane’s chin.

“Stay...p-please s-stay. D-don’t leave m-me alone...”

I stroked his hair with my other hand. “I won’t. But, Zane, what happened? Tell me.”

“Mm-mm.” He began to shiver.

With Zane still gripping my hand as if it were a lifeline, I reached the bedspread by his feet, and covered him. Somehow I managed to crawl over and settle behind him without dislodging the bedspread or sheet from his naked form.

“S-s-six m-months,” he stammered the instant he felt me lay down behind him.

Six months
? Snubbing my arm against his chest, he curled up even tighter, and began to shake in earnest. Then I felt the silent tears against my knuckles, and knew. I wouldn’t say I was sorry, because honestly, he had probably heard the words so many times they meant nothing to him anymore. Instead I settled my lips on the warm skin between his shoulder blades, and held him. The injustice Zane had suffered was further proof God didn’t really exist. What kind of Father leaves a child, but takes everyone he ever loved? I just couldn’t believe in a being less human than I was.

*

I woke to Zane stretching his legs over mine. He had turned, and his face was now snuggled beneath my chin, his breath warm against my throat. I felt something round flex solid beneath my hand. Realizing where exactly my hand was, I snatched it off Zane’s bare butt.

He chuckled faintly. “I think that was second base.”

I reset my hand on his arm, relieved he appeared okay. “Shut up. But I’m really glad your back. I don’t like when you disappear,” I said, as I laid my cheek against the top of his head.

“Thank you for finding me...And for sticking around.” He pulled himself flush against me. If he didn’t quit wriggling, this moment wasn’t going to remain so sweet and innocent. And I liked exactly where we were. I didn’t mind being his hero once in awhile. Throwing his leg over my thighs, he managed to get even closer still.

“Stop moving!”

“Okay.”

I sighed as his lips touched the skin on my neck, then my jaw. “You’re moving.”

“Can’t help it.” Another kiss closer to my chin. “I woke up in my dream.”

“What dream?” My eyes drifted closed as his lips feathered a path towards my ear. Maybe he could move a little.

“The one I’ve had every morning since I met you. When I wake up, you’re always gone. But this time...” He nuzzled behind my ear, letting out a contented sigh. I, on the other hand, was having a hard time staying content with his naked body pressed against me.

I leaned back, and looked at him. “And what happens in your dream?”

“I wake up just like this, safe in your arms, and you kiss me.” The raw expression on his face told me his dream wasn’t salacious in any way. Rather something he coveted for the simplicity. And many times the simplest of things could be breathtaking. Not that Zane was simple, far from it, but man, could he take my breath away.

“Why always me kissing you?” I asked, genuinely curious, since this was the third time he had mentioned it.

His lashes fell as he shook his head slightly. “No reason.” The silver hoop disappeared into his mouth. Lifting his chin, I tugged his lower lip free, and kissed him gently. If he didn’t want to tell me, that was his right, and I was fine with it because dreams weren’t necessarily meant to be shared. However, I could at least insinuate myself into his surrealistic moment before life made everything too real again. My lips moved against his, the connection warm and electric.

Somewhere I read that desire was similar to being consumed by flame, but that wasn’t what happened. Awareness bloomed throughout every part of me. It was as if I had been living dormant, and suddenly someone moved me into the sun.

I
felt
everything at once; the heat of his skin beneath my hand, his solid chest as it slide across mine, his fingers dancing along my waist, his lips; soft and firm, eager and earnest. I dug my hand into his back causing him to jerk against me, and I trembled everywhere. I was alive, and I wanted to remember this moment. Remember it all when he was gone from me, when I was alone, when I was lonely, when I forgot—No, I’d never forget him. Never. He’d always be the one that found me, and dragged me from the shadows.

Chapter Fourteen

“Zane?” His aunt knocked on the door as she opened it. “Dinner’s rea...dy.”

I moved, but not fast enough to prevent her from seeing me in a rather intimate embrace atop her nephew. Zane stopped me from completely fleeing, somehow managing to drag the bedspread over most of us, while shoving my face down into his shoulder. Still entirely dressed, including my shoes, Zane was wholly nude, which I doubted escaped her.

“Who is that?” her voice was coldly under control, considering.

“None of your business. And you need to knock
before
you enter my room,” Zane declared just as coolly. He had more guts than I did. My father wouldn’t hesitate to put me in my place if I ever spoke to him or my mother that way.

“This is my house, mister.” Her frigid voice cracked.

“Does she know—about you I mean?” I whispered.

“Of course I know about his perversions.”
Whoa
,
talk about good hearing
...
wait
,
what does she mean by perversions
? “Who are you? Where’d he find you? I can’t believe after all we’ve done for you, you brought this filth into my house...
my house
!”

Who did she think she was calling filth? It wasn’t as if I was naked and we were...not thinking about that right now. Wait...she didn’t see my face—she doesn’t know who I am.

“Stay down,” Zane warned just as a war over the bedspread ensued. If it had been anyone else I might have divulged my identity and given her a piece of my mind. But Mrs. Cormley was tight with the community, and heartily involved with the church, not to mention the woman thought my father was her own personal link to God. If she figured out who I was, I wouldn’t only be coming out to her, but also my parents, and half the town within minutes. It would happen eventually, yet the thought of that all happening this minute had me trembling, and clutching to Zane, while he did his best to prevent my unveiling. So I guess I wasn’t
quite
ready to tell my parents yet.

Threads popped, fabric tore, the bed shifted, Zane strained, began to sweat, and all the while Mrs. Cormley railed on about how he had defiled her home, eternal damnation, something about whether I was a prostitute—and Zane yelled back at her to get out of his room, leave us alone, and told her she was being ridicules...more than once. The exchange went on for what seemed forever, but was probably only a few minutes, before a voice boomed into the room, disrupting them both.

“
What the hell is going on here
?”

The impulse to flee became overwhelming. I released Zane’s shoulder, and took hold of the edge of the mattress, trying to remain calm, knowing I needed to stay where I was.

“Uncle Merrill, please. Nothing happened, but she won’t listen. She’s...being unreasonable.”

I commended him for not actually calling her crazy. I definitely would have.

“Sandy, let go.”

“I want to know what
demon
he brought into
my home
,” Mrs. Cormley all but wailed.

“No, she doesn’t. Knowing would only hurt her, and everyone involved.” The tug-of-war ceased abruptly, and Zane pulled the blanket up to his chin as his arm came across my back. “We talked about this, Uncle Merrill. Please, he hasn’t told anyone. Allow him his dignity,” he pleaded on my behalf.

Mr. Cormley grunted, the sound close enough I assumed the man had a hold of his wife. “Five minutes, Zane. Don’t think for a second you’re off the hook.”

Zane nodded. “Understood.”

“Make it snappy. I doubt I can keep her contained for long.”

“Excuse me? You can’t let—”

“San-dy!” Merrill cautioned, making his wife sputter in indignation. But her mutterings faded as he led her from the room. I owed Mr. Cormley a debt of gratitude—someday, maybe.

“Uncle Merrill? Just so you know, I, um...I was having a hard time, and he came looking for me. Nothing happened. We just kissed—it was all innocent.”

“There was nothing innocent—” I heard the click as the door closed muffling the rest of Zane’s aunt’s rant.

I released the shaky death grip I had on Zane’s ribcage, but I couldn’t seem to let go of the mattress. I couldn’t breath. No matter how hard I tried, the air kept sticking in my throat, refusing to enter my lungs.

Zane’s arms encircled me. “It’s over, she’s gone.”

I tried concentrating on breathing, but that only made it worse. My chest began to ache with the effort, and I struggled, needing to get free.

Zane’s hold on me tightened. “Gabe, listen to me, listen...”

Small juts of air wheezed in and out, as I pushed against him.

“You’re having a panic attack, and you need to relax. Can you do that for me?” he murmured against my temple, gently rubbing my back with one hand while his other arm tried to hold me still.

Panic attack
? I
was
pretty damn panicked. Trying to pull myself together, I listened to the soft lilt of Zane’s voice, felt the whisper of his breath as it fanned across my damp skin, the slow stroke of his hand up and down my spine. Finally the oxygen trickled into my lungs, and I found myself huffing as much as I could manage.

“That’s better.” Zane’s lips grazed my temple again. “Hey, look at me.”

My eyes focused in on the intricacies of his vine tattoo first. This close it had an almost cartoonish appearance, but I knew if I moved back even a foot it would become a living part of the person it graced. Zane’s hand brushed over my forehead, then down the side of my face, propelling my eyes to his.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” I went to tell him I wasn’t, but he kept talking. “After the accident, I can’t tell you how many panic attacks I had. Every little thing set me off. The sound of running water, someone crying, and getting back in a car was the worst.”

Clearing my throat, I admitted, “I can’t even imagine how hard that would have been.”

After a caress of my face, he let go with a heartfelt sigh. “And I can’t even fathom what was going on inside your head through all that. My aunt—although she tries, she’s always been clear that she doesn’t approve of me. I never thought she’d do anything this insane though.”

“She’s more than a little scary,” I admitted. “Your uncle seems okay though.”

“Yeah, Merrill’s pretty cool.” He wiggled out from under me. “I’m going to get dressed, and take you home.”

Rubbing the last of the ache from my chest, I sat up on the edge of the bed, and what my eyes caught sight of knocked the breath right back out of me again. I knew the decent thing to do was to look away, however I seemed to have lost all propriety at the moment, and stared, unabashed. Glorious didn’t begin to describe the wonder before me. Graceful, lithe, sensuous, beautiful. Never in my life would I have expected to use those words, yet they were all crowded onto the body outlined by the single bulb in his closet.

My mind took in everything from the tail of his scar wrapped around his right hip, to the dimple above his left butt cheek, and down the tattoo that descended in a spiral around his left leg. From where I sat, I couldn’t quite make out what it was though.

“What’s the tattoo on your leg?”

He glanced down as if he’d forgotten he had it, then threw a wicked smirk over his shoulder at me. “Are you checking out my ass?”

“And everything else,” I answered boldly.

He let out a soft amused hum. “It’s an Irish poem.”

“I didn’t know you were Irish. What does it say?”

“I’m not. Keith was. And if I told you, what would be the fun in that?” He turned the light off, and shuffled into a pair of jeans.

“I thought Keith was your brother?”

Even in the shadows, I saw the tension rise in his shoulders as he froze. Instinctually I blurted, “I’m sorry...”

“Brandon was my brother. Keith was my boyfriend.” He pulled his jeans the rest of the way up before facing me. “He was the last to leave me.”

Dazed, I breathed out, “He was in the car...” The hits just kept coming where Zane was concerned. That he had had a boyfriend didn’t bother me. That he had lost yet another loved one—No wonder today had been hard for him.

Bowing his head, he turned to the maple dresser and opened a drawer. I caught the slow nod before he tugged a t-shirt on. I stood, unsure if I should go to him. I wanted to take him in my arms, but I was afraid with Keith on his mind he might not want me so close. Then he turned with a pair of socks in hand, and gave me the goofiest smile.

“I loved him in my own way, but I want you to know you’re nothing like him. My dad,” he walked over, and settled on the bed so he could put his socks on, “would have loved you. Keith he called an
intense young man
, and he was. He always planned his days down to the minute, and that included the time we spent together.” Stomping his shoes on without untying them, he stood and slipped his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “You, on the other hand, breathe in life, taking everything as it comes.”

I shook my head as he opened the door, and checked the hall. “Not everything.”

He glanced back. “Yeah, everything. And I love that about you.”

*

The day had been a roller coaster ride. But the few highs managed to outweigh the lows. Even my folk’s note lying on the kitchen table telling me I had some explaining to do about why I skipped school, didn’t touch the euphoric cloud I was trapped within.

Zane and I had walked through the starless night holding hands, the cloak of darkness keeping our secret safe. And by the time we reached my driveway I was drunk from the intimacy of such a small thing.

It had only taken a suggestive lean from Zane before we were molded together so tightly, neither of us knew where one ended and the other began. I could still feel his hands on me, smell him on my clothes, the sensation of his body pressed against mine—I laughed, and then slapped a hand over my mouth before remembering no one was home to question my uncharacteristic burst of joy.

Dropping my hand, the smile stuck, and no matter how hard I tried to pry it off, it stayed. Despite what he might be facing right now, I knew Zane was smiling too, if only on the inside. The echoing chorus of his laughter had filtered to me through the darkness as he headed back home.

The phone peeled, startling me out of my musings. “Hello?”

“You better have a good excuse for ditching me at lunch, and not answering any of my calls or texts.” Lily groused.

My smile grew until my eyes were so crinkled I could barely see out of them. “I do.” In order for her to understand, I had to admit I had been seeing Zane for the past few weeks, to which she squealed, “
I knew it
.” Once that was out of the way, I relayed an abridged PG-13 version of my day, omitting much of Zane’s personal strife.

It felt good to be able to talk to Lily, to hear her excitement for me, yet the day’s emotional ride got the better of me towards the end, and a weary sigh escaped. “Why did it take me so long?” There weren’t many romantic possibilities out there for me, but you’d think I’d have crushed on
someone
long before now. Sure, I’d peeked at Tye, but he was always flaunting himself so it was hard not to. And Dirk, well, everyone looked at Dirk. Girls wanted to get in his pants, and guys wished they
had
what was in his pants.

“Because you’re stubborn. But if you want a more romantic reason, I think you hadn’t found anyone you could see yourself with.”

I snorted a raspy chuckle. “Zane’s not exactly someone I would have seen myself with.”

“Oh, I don’t know...the whole pastor’s son, bad boy thing kinda works for you two.”

“Zane’s not bad. He’s just drawn that way.”

She laughed. “Wow, talk about scraping the barrel for that one.”

“It fits him though.” The sweep of headlights across the lace curtains announced my parent’s return even before I heard the low growl of the diesel. “I gotta go, my folks are home.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“I’m too strung out tonight. Soon though. Thanks for listening—and not interrupting.”

“Let me tell you, it was a tremendous effort, and I’m exhausted. But, Gabe? I’m glad you finally admitted who you are.”

“I think I am too. Night.”

“Sweet dreams...”

I hung up the phone and prepared for the talk I knew was about to walk through the door. The talk never arrived though. Instead Mom headed straight upstairs with barely a glance my way. The pipes shuddered a minute later as she started filling the tub. Dad gazed at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. He seemed tired, maybe a little upset or confused, but not mad. “Go to bed, Gabriel, it’s late.”

“Okay...” I said hesitantly as I watched him pick up the mail, and head to his office. I had braced myself for his lecture, and now, surprisingly, I felt rather let down. “Um...So, I’m not in trouble?”

He paused in the doorway, drumming his fingers on the white trim before shaking his head. “No. Go to bed.”