Heartsville 03 - Another Shot (J.H. Knight) (9 page)

“Yeah.” Brad let out a long breath and then said, “I could’ve handled it better. Then and now, but….” When Aaron didn’t say anything, Brad went on. “I was on Yearbook. I was out taking candid shots and I saw you. I didn’t even know your name, but I thought you were really cute. I was totally in the closet, barely admitted to myself that I was gay, ya know? My dad was—
is
—a total homophobe, and well, anyway….”

Brad had noticed him? Thought he was cute? Aaron couldn’t even remember him out of the sea of faces he went to school with. But his stupid little heart fluttered at the words and he sat up more in the chair.

“So, anyway,” Brad said, leaning back, holding Aaron’s gaze. “I saw you and that guy and when he kissed you… I don’t know, it was just a great picture. You guys looked so happy and I
wanted
that, ya know? So I just snapped a photo of it, like, on impulse.”

Aaron nodded in understanding. Impulse decisions were one thing he could forgive. But the rest…? “So why did you put it up all over school? On my locker, even?”

“Whoa, that wasn’t me.” Brad put his hand up, as if he needed to physically defend himself from the question. “I always developed my own pictures. I figured I’d just get rid of the negative and no one would ever see it, right?”

“Okay, but someone did—
clearly
—so…?”

“Right, see, that’s where I really fucked up. I mean, fuckup one of several. I went ahead and developed it just to see how it turned out, and… it was gorgeous. I remember wishing I could put it in the yearbook because it really looked great.”

Aaron had to agree. In another lifetime—or maybe just another decade or two—that photo would’ve been put up on Facebook or Instagram or whatever. It would’ve been a symbol of pride for all the other queer kids out there, not the embarrassing, brutal catalyst it turned out to be for Aaron. “So what happened?”

“So as soon as I turned on the lights in the darkroom, Pete Fitzgerald came in and saw it.”

Pete Fitzgerald. Yeah, Aaron remembered him. At sixteen, he was already a first-string linebacker with a reputation for cracking skulls on and off the field. He was also a complete asshole. “Why the hell was Pete in the darkroom to begin with?”

“He was in Yearbook with me. I guess he needed the credit. Or thought it would look good on his transcript.” Brad shook his head and took another deep breath. “I tried to snag the picture off the wire—it still needed a few minutes to dry—but Pete grabbed it from me, laughed, and shoved me into the wall as he left with it. I found it later, still in the photocopier.”

“Shit.” What else could Aaron say?

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

They both laughed softly, but Brad still looked stressed, as if carrying the story around with him had hurt him too, made him tired.

“It’s not your fault, Brad.” Sure, in some ways, it never would’ve happened if Brad hadn’t snapped the photo in the first place, but he really couldn’t blame Brad for anything.

“I should’ve gone after him or, I don’t know, told Mrs. Delany or…
something
.”

Aaron put his feet on the floor and nudged the ottoman out of his way. “Hey,” he said softly, leaning in. When Brad didn’t look him in the eye, Aaron reached out, hesitated, and then took Brad’s hand. “Thanks for telling me.”

Brad did look up then, his half smile still sad, full of regret. “Thanks for listening.”

“Sorry I didn’t hear you out yesterday. That was kind of a drama queen move on my part.” He brushed his thumb over Brad’s knuckles until Brad twined their fingers together.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Brad said softly. “That whole thing started a landslide of shit for you.” He looked up at met Aaron’s eyes. “And I’m really sorry for bailing after. I just kind of… panicked, I guess. I went home to dig through my old stuff, make sure it was you.” He swallowed hard and said, “Then I didn’t know what to say, so I just… didn’t.”

Aaron couldn’t decide which had been worse: waking up alone when he thought he’d started something good with Brad or finding out all of the other stuff. It didn’t really matter, though. Some knot inside him, one that had been there for too many years, slowly unwound itself. If he’d been in Brad’s position, he wasn’t even sure he’d have handled it any better. Maybe he took a while to build up the courage, but in the end, Brad did the best he could with a shitty situation. “Time for a do-over, then,” he said as he tugged Brad’s hand. “You wanna grab a bite to eat or something?”

“I’m not making you stay out a second longer than you have to, but thanks for the offer.” It sounded like he was shooting Aaron down, but Brad’s expression had finally cleared. His smile went all the way to his eyes.

“Suit yourself,” Aaron said as he stood, tugging Brad to his feet with him. “I’m getting myself a pizza and a cold beer, but I won’t force you to join me.”

Brad grabbed Aaron’s coat from the arm of the chair and handed it to him. “Well, it is cold out,” he said, smiling wider. “I should probably give you a ride.”

“It’s the least you could do, really,” Aaron teased as he tugged on his coat.

Thankfully, Brad laughed in response and put his arm around Aaron’s shoulder.

“I’d like to do more than that,” he whispered, close to Aaron’s ear, sending a shiver down Aaron’s spine. “If you’re still interested.”

Aaron turned to see Brad’s face and caught his eye. Given everything that had happened, maybe his answer should’ve been no. Instead, he said, “I’m still interested.”

“Good,” Brad murmured before leaning in and taking Aaron’s mouth in a warm, tender kiss.

Before either of them could pull back, someone cleared their throat behind Aaron. He jumped and was ready to apologize for blocking the walkway when he saw Mark, the owner.

“You weren’t even going to pretend you were in here to buy something, were you?” Mark was clearly teasing as he gave Aaron a little nudge.

“Nope,” Aaron said with a sheepish smile. “But your next pumpkin scone is on the house.”

“Deal.” Mark laughed and said, “Mandy does enough business for both of you anyway. I’d tell you to say hi for me, but I’ll probably see her before you do.”

If Aaron’s night turned out the way he was hoping, he wouldn’t be seeing anyone until he had to leave for work again. “That’s a safe bet.”

Brad chuckled from beside him and pulled Aaron toward the door.

The chill in the night air felt refreshing as they walked silently down the street, pushing through a damp wind that blew colorful leaves around their feet.

They stopped in front of Brad’s truck. “Where am I taking you for pizza and beer? Back to Slice?” he asked as he hit the button to unlock both doors.

“Ya know,” Aaron said, leaning against the passenger door. “I have beer in my fridge.”

Brad leaned in. “Yeah?” he asked, pressing his body against Aaron’s. “We could probably get pizza delivered.”

Aaron wound his arms around Brad’s shoulders and ran his fingers through Brad’s hair. “It’s an awfully chilly night,” he said, shifting closer, almost kissing Brad. “It’d be really rude of me to keep you out in the cold.”

“If the weather gets worse, I may even have to stay the night.” Brad brushed their lips together again.

Aaron whispered against the kiss, “If we call this our first fight, I think I’m entitled to makeup sex now.”

“That was a pretty drawn-out fight,” Brad said, a teasing look in his eye. “The makeup sex is gonna have to be good.”

Aaron shifted out of the way as Brad opened the passenger door. “This one was mostly your fault,” he said, laughing over his shoulder as he climbed in. “The burden of
good
is on you.”

“I’ll remember that little rule for later,” Brad said with a mischievous look in his eye before closing the door.

Epilogue

Aaron leaned back in Brad’s bed. “You’re trying to distract me,” he whispered as Brad trailed his tongue along Aaron’s neck.

“And I’m doing a piss-poor job of it, apparently,” Brad teased, shifting his bare thigh against Aaron’s. They were enjoying a lazy Sunday morning since Aaron had made an unprecedented decision and taken the entire day off.

“I asked you a question….”

“I know.” Brad bit down softly against Aaron’s collarbone and slid his hand lower. He wrapped his callused fingers around Aaron’s rigid cock.

Aaron moaned softly, rocking his hips. “You still haven’t answered me.”

He could feel Brad’s lips tilt into a smile against his skin. “I know,” Brad whispered again, tightening his grip as Aaron’s precome slicked Brad’s fingers.

“Are you going to answer me?” Aaron had almost forgotten what they had been talking about and didn’t really care anymore. But still.

“Eventually.” Brad shifted higher, licked against Aaron’s thrumming pulse just under his ear.

“Mom really wants to know if you’re coming for Thanksgiving….”

Brad exhaled a laugh. “I’d rather be coming right now,” he said as he pulled back, catching Aaron’s eye. “And it’d be a lot easier if you didn’t bring up your mother.” He leaned in and kissed Aaron again, though. “But, yes. I’ll go to Thanksgiving with your parents, and Christmas or Festivus or whatever else you want to do.”

Aaron slipped his arms around Brad’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Okay,” he said as he wrapped his legs around Brad’s waist. “We can stop talking now.”

“Well now I’ve lost interest,” Brad teased, leaning in for another quick kiss. His erection might as well have called him a liar.

With a laugh, Aaron moved under him. “Maybe you’re getting too old. Need a little blue pill, perhaps?”

Brad thrust against him. “You better watch it,” he growled, obviously trying not to laugh again. “I’m not even a year older than you.”

“Still counts.” Maybe they’d only been together a month, but Aaron knew which buttons to push to get himself pounded into the mattress.

Or so he’d thought.

Instead Brad took his time, moved slowly, teased Aaron until he felt like he was ready to fly apart, felt like begging. When Brad finally pushed in, Aaron shuddered with relief, bit down against Brad’s shoulder, and held on for the long, tender ride.

Brad came first, moaning Aaron’s name into the late-autumn morning. Arron followed right with him, the sensations rushing through him like a tidal wave, almost too much for one body to bear.

They collapsed together, and Aaron could feel Brad’s heart beating against his chest, as if they were trying to match up, synchronize in the otherwise lonely world.

When Brad tangled his fingers in Aaron’s hair, he whispered, “Is it too soon to tell you I love you?”

Everything seemed to stop with those whispered words. The entire planet felt like it suddenly screeched to a halt. Then, after Aaron could think again, he answered, “Probably. But I love you too.”

J.H. Knight

J.H. Knight has been writing love stories since the second grade. When she’s not catering to the whims of her imaginary friends (whom she sometimes refers to as “characters”), she’s usually found driving her four children all over the planet, working on a school project, or saying things like “Not until your homework is done!”

A Pacific Northwest native, she loves the outdoors in every season whether she’s in the city, the mountains, or building sloppy sandcastles with her kids on the beach. On her best days, she’s cuddled up with a good book, and on her worst days she’s tearing her hair out as she tries to decide if her sentence needs a comma or a semi-colon. She gratefully bows down in awe of editors, since she usually gets it wrong.

Blog:
http://knightwylde.blogspot.com

Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6474818.J_H_Knight