You're Always in the Last Place You Look (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

We talked at Mary’s Wall, or rather Zane talked and I listened. He told me about his family. His father, who had been a busy lawyer, but somehow always had time for him, and always knew when he was sad or distressed. His mom, who was chunky, but so pretty, men stared at her. Even his dad still looked at her as if every time he saw her it was for the first time.

Brandon, his brother, was a dramatic thirteen when he died. Pretending to hate everything, but most of all Zane.

“He thought I never had any problems. Brandon. He fought everything life gave him; good or bad. I just...” Zane plucked a tuft of grass and tore it into little pieces, swallowing over and over. “I, um, I never took the time to tell him my life wasn’t perfect either.” He looked at me, his eyes filling with tears of remorse. “I really regret that. That he, um, died hating me.”

Zane hid against my chest while he let more pain go. I couldn’t tell him that his brother didn’t hate him, because I had known my own loathing, and hated myself for it. I did tell him his brother loved him in his heart, if nowhere else.

The day had done him in, and by the time we got back he needed his pills. I settled him on the couch, and he fell asleep almost instantly. After dinner Zane asked me to take him home.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

He shoved his sketch book into his duffle bag. “I can’t hide here forever, and Merrill did promise me things would be better.”

“You know you can always come back...” I tucked Stanley into his backpack. “He’s just a loan. You know, in case you can’t find me.”

He smiled, touching the bear tentatively. “Thanks...”

*

After the spring squall, the sun returned with a vengeance. Sam’s hay, although probably bleached, was baled and ready to put up Friday. I met Zane at his locker following fourth period.

“Man, your dad is killing me. Do I have to use my ass muscles bucking hay?” Zane jammed books into his locker wherever he could fit them with zero regard for school property.

“Ah, baby, do I need to massage your sore muscles?” I crooned.
God, where did that voice come from?

He closed his locker, and leaned against it, his eyes narrowing. “
Yeeaah
, don’t ever call me baby, or sweetie, or honey, or any pet name if you expect me to ever look at you the same way again.” A smirk slid onto his face. “But, I wouldn’t complain if you chose to rub me wherever you wanted.”

I glanced quickly up and down the hall. No teachers and only a few lunch stragglers. Leaning in to him was a mistake I discovered the second our body heat mingled, and the sweetness of leather and cloves tickled my nose. God, it seemed forever since we had kissed proper, or touched in a way that wasn’t for comfort. And I missed him. My body missed him.

“You’re going to get us suspended.” But even as he said it, he was guiding my hands around his waist.

I’d never touched him there, and even though guys were always mauling their girlfriend’s butts in the halls, this was different. Even though most of our peers seemed to accept us as a couple, the faculty still hadn’t, watching us with mixed expressions of disdain and disgust. Obviously the kids were ready for change, but the adults were still stuck in a time of nonconformity.

As I experienced the curves beneath my hands, the muscles when he shifted, it was as if the barrier I had been bumping against for so long shattered with this one touch. I rode the shudder all the way to my toes. Zane hovered, eyes half-closed, waiting for me. I didn’t hesitate, and kissed him.

This, what we were doing, wasn’t any different than any other couple, yet for some reason it felt sinful, as if we were breaking rules, and wonderful, because every nerve, every sense I possessed seemed to have come alive simultaneously. I experienced
everything
from the thrill of his stud sliding against my tongue, to the aged softness of his jeans beneath my hands, and the faint musty scent of the old school building.

Zane kicked back against his locker a few times, making me laugh, but only for a moment before I fell back into the experience of kissing and touching him so openly and without reservation.

“Whoa! Gay porn in the hall.”

I showed Tye my finger before copping one last feel.
God that sounded dirty
! Whoever came up with that phrase anyway? I broke away, and smiled up at Zane.

He fanned his face. “Where in the world did that come from?”

“Too pushy?” I asked with mock concern.

“No?
No
, NO!” He held onto my shirt, keeping me in front of him as he adjusted himself. I laughed, and a little color erupted along his cheeks. “You can do that anytime, cowboy,” he whispered against my ear before letting my shirt go. I leaned against him for a few more seconds wondering if Tye would mind waiting a bit longer while we found somewhere more private. I grudgingly settled for another quick, but heated kiss.

“Come on, you two can make out in the car. I’m sure Gary would love to watch.”

“Ah, yeah,
no
. Besides he’d probably start blubbering,” I said, as we stepped in with Tye, and headed towards the student lot.

“Actually, Gavin asked him on a date for this weekend—the whole weekend. They’re going to some club in Boise. He’s on cloud nine, so, pretty much the most annoying person ever right now.” Tye gave me a sideways roll of his eyes. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk down the halls with a linebacker humming, and dancing?”

We laughed. “No, thankfully I don’t.” I said, tossing a grateful grin to Zane.

Tye had borrowed his mom’s sedan so we could all travel together to Sam’s farm twenty miles outside of town. Gary was leaning against the white car, arms crossed looking like the imposing three-hundred pound football player he was.

When he saw us he threw his hands up. “Finally!”

“Hey, not my fault.” Tye hiked his thumb at me. “I found them touching inappropriately in the upstairs hall. It was gross.”

“Trying to get suspended?” Gary asked.

“Yep.” Zane answered curtly. He was still mad about Gary kissing him. His jealousy of Tye, however, seemed to be waning the more time we all spent together. Tye was a good guy, and made sure to include Zane in his jokes, and conversations. I loved him for that. He wasn’t exactly loving me after our practice last night, though. My attention, not to mention my eyes, kept wandering to Zane while my dad gave him his second riding lesson. Tye kept whacking me with his rope, and telling me to keep my head in the game rather than on my boyfriend’s butt. Well, he said ass.

Five hours later, two teams of six guys each—four bucking and two on the flatbeds stacking—had managed to clear over half the field. Somewhere over seventy ton had been put up according to Sam’s daughter, Sherry, who was the official counter for both flatbeds.

Sam had split us, putting Zane and Tye with Dirk, while Gary and I ended up with Chuck. Knowing Sam wasn’t one you argued with, Tye promised me he’d keep an eye on Zane, and let me know if he began acting strange at all. The few glimpses I caught of the other group, showed Zane impressively keeping right up with the trailer.

As I secured my corner of the tarp, I glanced around looking for Zane. The other trailer had beaten us in, and was already tarped when we arrived. Most of the guys were sitting in the grass next to the barn, but Zane wasn’t there.

I wandered over. “Anyone seen Zane?”

“I think he passed out over there.” Curt, Sam’s oldest son, chuckled and gestured towards a willow behind the barn.

I found him lying in the shade with his knees up, and the red bandana from his wrist covering his face. I kicked his foot, and he groaned.

“We have to do this again tomorrow, don’t we?” Sliding the bandana off, he peered up at me.

“Oh man, it was a good thing you were wearing a long sleeve shirt.” I chuckled, shaking my head as I dropped to my knees beside him. “Don’t they have sun in Chicago?” His pale skin was way passed sun kissed.

“Yes...” Zane frowned and sat up, then, pressing his fingers along his forehead, he wrinkled his nose. “Shit, I’m sunburned aren’t I?”

“Oh, yeah. You’re pretty pink.”

He bit down on his lip ring, and fluttered his black lashes at me. “Did you just call me pretty?” The lip ring went back in his mouth.

“No. I meant...”

He busted up. I shoved him, and stood up. “Stupid gay boy,” I muttered, and walked towards my truck.

“Me or you?” he called through his cackling. I shrugged, although I had actually meant me.

Zane smartly remembered sunscreen the next day.

*

“Stop it,” I hissed, leaning back, and trapping his hand against the pew. Zane had untucked the back of my shirt, and for the past ten minutes he’d been running his fingertips along my lower back. I could handle that, sort of. But slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of my slacks made me jump, then squirm as my hormones went all kinds of crazy. The temperature across every inch of my skin ramped up, and I was sure I was blushing brighter than a stop sign.

He’d been incorrigible since he arrived with his aunt and uncle. When slapping his hands away hadn’t worked, I adopted evasion tactics, but I couldn’t dodge Zane here. I was pinned between he and Lily, and Lily had already elbowed me a few times for bumping into her.

I kept his hand hostage, plastered against the small of my back, for the rest of my father’s sermon. After prayer I turned to him. “We’re in church! What is wrong with you?”

He gazed back, the picture of innocence, or as innocent as Zane could look with his tattoo down the side of his face and his lip ring in.

He leaned towards me, sniffed deeply, then sat back and sighed. God he was being weird, and I was getting hard—in church no less. His tongue stud made an appearance as he twisted it between his teeth, and a strange little noise escaped me that had him biting his lip ring. I knew the look on his face, and what the shift of contrast across his irises meant—and I refused, flat out refused—Damn, was he even wearing underwear, because his slacks weren’t hiding anything.

Zane tipped his head, and his breath against my neck raised havoc across my skin. “You okay?” His nose nuzzled in that spot—that perfect spot just below my earlobe, and I caught my eyelids before they drifted all the way closed.

I leaned forward, my arms on my knees, head drooped between my shoulders, and let out a long sigh. It seemed I was being taught a lesson in virtue at the moment. “Do I look okay?”

He shoved my shirt back into my waistband before tugging my jacket down. His head lowered towards me. “I can’t help it. I think I miss you.” His eyes met mine as I glanced up, and even though we saw each other every day, I understood what he meant. Life had become busy, and it had been awhile since we took any time just for us.

We both stood with the rest of our row. “Behave for ten minutes?”

His answer was to lean back against me.

*

“Did you forget its Alma’s ninetieth birthday today?” Dad raised an ennobling eyebrow at me. I swallowed my groan. Alma hated me. For that matter, she hated kids in general, and spent most days either on her porch, or in the front window of her house glaring at even the most innocent of little ones.

“No.”
Yes
. “Come on, Dad, it’s been so crazy we haven’t even been on a date.”

He rocked on his feet. Something he occasionally did when contemplating and I tried not to look overly hopeful. “Hm, so where were you planning to go on this date?”

“Ah, I was, um, thinking about the falls. Maybe, uh, teach him to shoot.” There was a makeshift shooting range up there that everyone used before hunting season, and my dad knew it would be abandoned this time of year. I was all but admitting our intentions.

“Ah, yes, and nothing is more romantic than teaching your date how to shoot a rifle,” he said wryly, smiling at the look I gave him. I wasn’t sure what that look was, but exasperation seemed probable since I was beginning to feel that way. He glanced at Zane talking to Merrill while Mrs. Cormley stared intently at me from behind a planter. I was sure she was waiting for me to explode into some fiery beast from hell. I hated to disappoint her, but I wasn’t really feeling fire and brimstone right now.

The woman had banned me from their house forever, informing my father that she didn’t blame him, knowing it had been Zane who had
corrupted
me, and that I had been such a good boy prior to his arrival. She would have banned Zane too, but Merrill wouldn’t have it.

“Two conditions; help your mom get the community room ready, and give your blessings to Alma.” He laid his arm across my shoulders. “Only the 22, be home before dark, and I don’t think I have to tell you to be careful.”

“That’s five conditions, Dad.”

Now
he
gave
me
a look. His was definitely on the stern side.

“I’m not arguing. Well, maybe on one condition. It’s dark by seven-thirty. How about ten?”

“Is your homework done?” he asked. I nodded, even though my algebra wasn’t finished, but it probably never would be since I couldn’t seem to get my mind wrapped around it. “All right nine-thirty because it’s a school night, and I don’t want you in the woods after nine.”