You're Always in the Last Place You Look (30 page)

He chuckled again. I was so glad he found me amusing. “That’s the whole point.” His lips found the hollow beneath my ear. “And we have all night.”

“You’re intent on killing me, aren’t you?”

“What would be the fun in that?”

“Yeah, well, do you think I have nine lives, because I’m about to die of embarrassment—again. I don’t know what I was thinking. I have no idea what I’m doing here. You never did show me the porn you promised. Maybe if you had—”

“Quit thinking, and just follow your body, Gabriel.” His lips pressed warmly against my neck, sending a shiver across my skin. Of course that could be the cool night air across my back, but I preferred believing he had done that to me. “This one’s on me,” he murmured.

When he took us both in hand, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I sucked in what I was sure would be the last oxygen I would get for the next few minutes—if I even managed to last that long. Everything within me trembled, aware of every inch where we touched.

Somewhere during what was easily the most intimate moment of my life we began kissing, and my hand closed over his as my body took over for me, hips moving in rhythm with our hands. I was so intent on the sensation, on the moment I was sharing with Zane, that it was a shock when his legs wound around my waist, and his lips pulled away. Sweat broke along his heated skin.

“Gabriel.” It was no more than a breath followed by the same adorable whimpers I heard that day at Creeksbend. His eyes screwed tight while his fingers dug into my back. I wasn’t sure why I stopped my own reckless dash to completion. Yet I did. I couldn’t not watch him, feel him, be there for him. It was an odd experience—my mind battling my body. All my muscles tight, my hormones trying to drive me, while his body shook beneath my stilled hands, and then his release as he came, the flush that brightened his cheeks...

A groan rumbled out of me. The wet warmth between us was like a sensual kick to more than one part of my body. I never would have thought I’d find that sexy since I had never been a fan of my own messy expulsions. But in that moment my body took back over, and thrust me into the haze of neverland, or at least my neverland—a place where I had only ever existed with Zane. A nirvana I couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone else.

As I drifted back I felt Zane’s legs tight around my waist, his arms just as snug across my back, and I knew he had been there with me, unwilling to let me go alone.

His lip ring caressed my cheek. “That’s the second time you’ve disappeared. Where do you go?” he whispered.

Pushing onto my elbows I met his curious gaze, and shook my head slightly. “You should know, because you’re the only one who’s ever taken me there.”

He tried to suppress a grin, or maybe it was a smirk.

Moving his hair so I could see his eyes in the moonlight trickling through the tent skylight, I asked, “Too sappy again?”

He sighed. “No. I just—I wish you could see yourself sometime. You really do appear to go somewhere else.” His eyes went to staring at the hollow at the base of my throat. “I guess I wondered if it was a singular trek...”

I smiled. “Fishing much? But no, you’re always with me.” I kissed that beautiful shy smile of his—the one that curled my toes every time.

After Zane wiped us both off with his T-shirt, he curled his back against my chest, and I held him flush against me until sleep loosened my grip. Zane’s lips touched my palm, and then my hand was pressed against his chest. “Fuck, this is going to hurt...” floated over me as my mind blacked out.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I shivered, and shivered again, then rubbed my cold-numbed feet together. Turning over, my head landed on a rock beneath the tent floor. My eyes skittered open, and my mind tried to make sense of the emptiness between me and the blue tent wall.

I sat up, and dazedly glanced around. All that was left in the tent were my possessions. Every trace of Zane had been removed.

Even though I knew the weight in my gut was truth, I refused to admit he had left. Darting from the tent, the early morning crispness hit my skin, working like the hammer of life. I stopped halfway to my truck. Covering my privates, I made a reverse dash back into the tent, followed closely by a few boisterous cat calls from a handful of early risers.

Jeans check, shirt check, boots? I glanced around, only finding one. I didn’t fucking care. He was gone—
gone
! I felt the sting overtake my eyes, and squeezed them shut. A moment later the coppery taste of blood hit me, and I realized I was biting my tongue trying to keep the tears at bay. It was too early to cry. For all I knew he had just gone home, maybe he felt sick, or—what?
What
? The rock in my stomach wobbled. Even though I knew the truth, I couldn’t believe it, not yet.

I considered leaving everything, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be in the mood to answer any questions later. Thankfully it was still early, and the few prying eyes about were still hazy from the overuse of alcohol or other substances, and didn’t seem too interested in my mad explosion from the scene.

I was loaded in minutes, the tent a jumble of poles and nylon, sporting a tear where it had caught on the hitch in my haste. I made my way through town, surprised when I pulled in front of the Cormley’s in one piece, since none of the drive there seemed to be banked in my memory.

Rapping on the door, I couldn’t even raise any guilt for possibly waking them—and so help me, if his aunt said one word—well, I didn’t know what I’d do, but it wouldn’t be nice. The door opened as I was still banging on it, the smarting along my knuckles increasing with each strike.

Merrill, clothed in pajamas, and sporting a well-worn robe, took one look at me, shook his head and pulled me into his arms. Not once did I ever imagine a scenario where I would be hugging the man. But maybe with everything we had gone through I had garnered some acceptance from him, or at the very least a bit of hard-earned compassion. Whatever the reason, I took what he gave me, even though I knew what it meant. He was gone.

Battling the ebb of tears along my eyelids, I asked hopefully, “How long?” If he had just left, I might be able to catch him.

“I got up at five-thirty, and his room was cleaned out.”

That was the moment I felt the verity of what Zane had done—the true weight of his rejection. Merrill drew back, and pulled a small sheet of folded paper from the pocket of his navy blue robe.

He fingered the square of grey paper. “I thought he might stay...you know, at least for the summer. I didn’t even know he was packing. This was all he left. I’m sorry, Gabriel.” Merrill shook his head, handed me the note, and closed the door.

I touched it as reverently as Merrill had—maybe more so—as I blindly made my way back to the truck before unfolding it.

I had nowhere to go, and you took me into your home. I wanted you to know I appreciated that more than I let on
.
I know it wasn’t easy for any of us
,
but it’s over now, and you can return to your normal lives
.

Could I request one favor of you
?
God
and I don’t seem to have a very good relationship
,
so maybe you could ask Him to watch over Gabriel for me
?

Zane

Crumpling the note up, I threw it onto the passenger side floor. Damn him. God damn him. He couldn’t even find the courage to say goodbye. Coward. Air hit my lungs with such force I had to grip the steering wheel to keep from crying out. I refused to give him the satisfaction of a breakdown. God damn him.

Anger seeped through the devastation, and I let it take me over as I drove home. The sharpness of it drove out the worst of the pain, leaving a mellow ache struggling beneath the adrenaline overload.

Dad met me on the porch with a concerned look and coffee. “Merrill told me.” He handed me a mug, appearing about ready to cry himself. I turned away, walking to the end of the porch, and gazed out at the steers slated for slaughter in a few days. I almost laughed. They were unknowingly worse off than I was.

“Gabriel, I’m here if you need me.”

Swallowing, I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

I heard Dad’s deep sigh of disbelief, yet he gave me what I wanted. His silence.

My parents hovered all day. Mom offering food I didn’t eat while Dad cattily watched everything I did, probably waiting for me to collapse so he could pick up the pieces. But I didn’t falter. I wouldn’t let myself, I couldn’t. Instead I cleaned the barn, removing every cobweb from the ceiling and walls, swept the floor, washed all the troughs, as well as the water and feed buckets. I doubted the barn had ever been as clean as it was when I finished. After that I tackled my room.

The activity calmed me, leaving me blissfully numb and exhausted. At dinner Mom touched my arm now and then, encouraging me to eat. Not wanting to deal with her concern, I obliged her, not tasting any of the casserole I shoveled in.

Zane wormed his way into my mind for a moment as I stood in the shower, letting the hot water loosen my tight muscles. The thought of him gave the subdued ache purchase, and pain bloomed across every nerve, making me gasp. There was no way I was going to let him have me even for a minute. In my worn-out state I wasn’t about to let a single tear fall, for fear I’d be unable to stop.

I called his phone and hung up when it went right to voicemail. Damn him for taking that minute from me. Maybe I wasn’t as strong as I pretended. Sighing I rolled over and fell into a blissfully dead-to-the-world sleep.

*

The next night his phone was shut off. I chucked mine across the room.
Fuck him
. I didn’t even have the satisfaction of the thing shattering when it hit a wall because it landed in my laundry basket. Figured.

*

Over the next few days it was a wearying give and take. While I tried to remain in control, my mind dredged up memories of Zane. Anger became my ally, and between the two of us we began to stamp out the hurt, the betrayal, the devastation of being left behind.

The phone rang the following Saturday morning as we were all eating breakfast.

“I’ll get it.” I stood, and headed to Dad’s office.

“Hello?”

“Young Master Simmons?”

“Yes.”

“This is Smitty, and I was calling to see if you might be interested in taking on Zane’s job.”

I hesitated, and Smitty added, “I’ll make sure Ruger is locked up. I could really use the help, and I need someone I can trust, not being able to see and all.”

“Did you know he was leaving?” I asked quietly.

“I did, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. I woke up to the truck banging down the driveway in the middle of the night last weekend, and I knew he was headed home.”

“Wait. What truck?”

“He didn’t tell you he bought my truck...? Actually he worked most of it off.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Chicago, I assume. That’s where he always said he was going, anyway. He didn’t tell you?”

“I knew he wanted to go home. But no, he didn’t tell me he was leaving.” So Zane had crept off in the middle of the night, tail between his legs, without the guts to say goodbye to any of us. I agreed to clean Smitty’s house after church on Sundays as long as Ruger was locked up when I arrived.

In the weeks that followed I lost count of the number of hay bales I bucked, number of days I worked, number of hours I continuously beat my body up—unable to stop running, afraid the memories of Zane would catch me, and trip me up.

I ignored everyone, and everything, and while my body hardened, AJ’s softened. The desire to ride him just wasn’t in me anymore.

I hayed six days a week, went to church Sunday mornings, and to Smitty’s in the afternoon while he played Bingo at the senior center. Rarely seeing Smitty was a godsend. The old man was much too attuned to that which went on around him, and I knew he’d see right through the walls I had constructed, to the hurt festering within.

*

“Your mom says you’re going on a date?” Dad leaned into my room wearing a stupid grin.

“Yeah, a blind one.” I shook my head as I pulled on a sock. “It’s a friend of Gary’s boyfriend, Gavin’s. I don’t know...they kinda forced me into it.”

“Well, I for one am glad to see you doing something other than working or sleeping.”

“He’s obviously forgotten me, so I figured it was time I get on with my life.”

Dad sobered over my somber declaration. “I doubt he’s forgotten you.”

I looked up from yanking on my boot, my old friend anger taking over. “No? He hasn’t even called. He shut his Goddamn phone off. I think that sends a pretty clear message. Anyway, good riddance, I’m done thinking about him.” My hand waved the thought of him away even as pain seared my chest. I stomped on it until it scurried back to its cage. He couldn’t have me anymore. I was tired of hurting, of waiting, of—hoping. I grabbed my wallet and headed past my dad. “I won’t be too late.”

“Just try to have some fun, okay?”

Actually taking my dad’s advice to heart, I nodded as I headed out the front door. Maybe I could manage some fun. It was a date after all.

*

I walked into Tilly’s Cafe, the only truly decent place to eat in town, with an optimistic, if apprehensive smile on my face. Gavin and his buddy Albert—I tried hard not to judge him based on his name—were staying in town for the weekend. So if this date worked out, we all planned to see a movie tomorrow after I finished at Smitty’s.

Gary saw me first, and smiled broadly. “Gabe!”

Gavin and Albert turned around and some of my apprehension slipped away. He was cute, and the smile he gave me was genuine. I watched him as he walked around me. His square face was bright, and his brown eyes crinkled into half moons as he came to stand before me again. Obviously I passed his inspection.

“Hi,” he said, his voice high and light.

“Hi, I’m Gabriel.” I held my hand out.

He took my hand and held it rather than shaking it. Man, his hand was soft compared to mine. “Albert, but everyone calls me Al.”

“It’s good to meet you.” The way he was looking at me, continuously licking his lips as if he wanted to taste me, made me self-conscious, but it
did
feel good to be out.

“Likewise.”

“Gary, group of four...”

“That’s us,” Gary belted, shoving Gavin and Albert forward. “What do you think?” he whispered loud enough I was sure the guys could hear.

“I just met him.”

“But you have to have an opinion. If you don’t like his looks, what’s the point, right?”

“He kinda has this skinny 80’s thing going on, with the
Footloose
hair and all.”

Gary gave me a confused look. “Huh? What does that mean?”

“Ren McCormack in the movie
Footloose
?”

His lips formed an O as his head gave a befuddled shake, contradicting one another.

I rolled my eyes to the yellowed ceiling tiles. “You’re a country boy and you haven’t seen
Footloose
.” Was I the only repressed gay country boy who owned a well played copy of
Footloose
? I couldn’t even imagine that. As we approached the table, I added hastily, “Yes, he’s cute.”

Gary, still wearing a confused look, slid in next to Gavin. “You ever heard of a movie called
Footloose
?” Gary asked Gavin.

“Sure, I’ve seen it. It was filmed in Utah, near my aunt’s place.”

“Huh...” Gary opened his menu, and his attention diverted to food.

Albert played with the corner of his menu, and I could feel his leg bouncing on the cushion. “I take it you’ve seen the movie?”

With a sideways glance, I nodded.

He pulled on his hair, eyes twinkling. We both grinned. “You probably get that a lot, don’t you?” I asked.

“I do, but mostly from my parent’s generation. Not exactly the crowd I want to date.” His laugh was a hoarse, soft titter, and I kinda liked it.

He was fun, and easy going, and by the time we had all shared our second appetizer platter, I found myself relaxed and laughing with him over Gavin’s stories of his youth in revolt.

Gavin leaned forward, the thin metal bangles on his wrists clanking on the table. “They weren’t supposed to be home for several hours. So here I was in my mom’s garter, my sister’s thong, and Mom’s silver fuck-me pumps, humping one of those huge pink carnival teddy bears Callie’s boyfriend had won for her. I was totally into my task when there was a loud thump in the hallway, and my sister went ballistic because I was deflowering her precious pink bear on her bed.”