Parker reached for my face, holding it gently but firmly in his grip. “Because I was a stupid kid. Because it was the easy path. Because I wanted to be loved. If I could take it back, I would. You need to know that. I was so stupid. But… but also…” He hesitated. “Jules, we couldn’t have gotten together when we were fourteen or sixteen or even twenty. How would we have made it through what we did? If I’d followed you to law school, I would have had to stop skiing. If you’d followed me on the circuit, you wouldn’t have developed your own career. It wouldn’t have worked if we’d gotten together sooner.”
He was right, but it still hurt.
Parker’s lips landed on each of my cheeks in turn, the smooth skin just under each eye. The touch of his lips made me shiver. He was so damned sexy, and the amount of affection he gave me was incredible. I’d worried that Erin would have eventually discouraged him from being so demonstrative with me.
“What would it look like?” I asked.
His forehead crinkled. “What would what look like?”
I shifted until our legs were tangled together. “You and me. What if… what if we actually tried being together. What… what would that look like, do you think?”
His face relaxed into a big smile. “Whatever you want it to look like. I go where you go.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy, Parks. You have a job in Vail. I work in Denver. I’m considering a move to Aster Valley. You don’t do well with change. You find safety in your comfort zone. You crave stability. I don’t want to disturb that.”
Parker moved one of his hands to thread his fingers into my hair. “You’re right about me finding safety in my comfort zone, but you’re forgetting something important.”
“Mm?” I asked, enjoying the impromptu head massage.
“You’re my comfort zone. You’re my stability. None of the rest matters. If I’m with you, I’m happy. Always have been.”
It was all too good to be true, but I wanted it enough to be tempted. He could sense my hesitation because he got a teasing grin on his face I recognized.
“Besides, who said you were the only one considering a move to Aster Valley?”
17
PARKER
I rolled him onto his back and kissed him, not giving him a chance to respond to my comment about moving to Aster Valley. There was no rush. But I did feel a sense of urgency to kiss him, to hold him in my arms and show him with my body that I had no hesitation about the new sexual side to our relationship.
My thoughts had been spinning wildly all day, and with them, some memories had flung out of the depths and surprised me. I remembered sneaking a peek of Julian’s dick when he changed clothes in front of me after a baseball game in middle school. And then again in the locker room in high school. I remembered sharing a bed with him one night in eleventh grade and getting hard when I realized his hand was slowly stroking his dick under the covers.
And I remembered nearly breaking my hand when I punched a wall after accidentally walking in on him and Kader Zaman making out in the Rokas’ pool house during a party after graduation. Kader’s hand had been down the front of Julian’s swimsuit, and I’d wanted to strangle the guy for his aggressive presumption.
My stomach had hurt so badly, but I’d misinterpreted it as anger and fear. Anger that someone would presume to touch Julian in such a base way and fear that Julian’s heart would be broken. My brain knew Julian would have wanted it, was clearly consenting to the hookup if his eyes rolling back in his head was any indication, but my gut screamed that it was in all ways wrong.
I’d told myself I was being protective of Julian. That, as his best friend, I simply wanted him to hold out for the right guy—someone who’d recognize how wonderful he was and treat him accordingly.
Now, I realized what I’d been feeling was nothing as civilized as protectiveness. It was pure, primal jealousy.
Because there would never be anyone in the world who was right for Julian… except me.
I wanted all of his kisses. All of his attention. All of his passion. I wanted to be the only one who saw his eyes flare with arousal and soften in the afterglow of his orgasm. And I wanted it to be seriously fucking clear to everyone, especially Julian, that the only hand on Julian’s dick from now on should be mine.
Now, finally, it was my turn to make Julian’s eyes roll back. It was my turn to make his knees wobble and his breathing stutter. It was my turn to hear him gasp out my name in a broken curse as he finally let go.
Julian’s hands were large and strong against my back. His legs moved against mine, rough with body hair and muscle. The late-night scruff on his face rubbed at my own and pulled at the tender skin of my lips. He smelled like a combination of faded cologne, good wine, and traces of Julian sweat.
It was familiar, but it was newly intoxicating too.
I moved my face down to inhale the skin of his neck, and then I moved further down to bury my nose in his armpit.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a smile in his voice. “I probably smell.”
“You do,” I said, inhaling again and again. “And it’s fucking fantastic.” I moved over to swipe my tongue over his nipple before taking it gently between my teeth. Julian’s hiss made my cock pulse, so I added the pressure of my tongue and began to suck.
He arched up into me, moving his hands down to clutch my ass. “You’re acting like a guy right now.”
“I am a guy.”
“No, but oh god…”
I latched onto his other nipple and sucked hard before pulling off and sucking a hickey into the ink on the side of his neck. He let out a yelp that turned into a lurid groan of pleasure.
“Fantasies,” he gasped. “M-my fantasies are coming to life right now.”
I moved my tongue along the colorful splotches of ink, remembering the impromptu design that had started as Julian’s doodle of our school’s grizzly bear mascot on my math notebook our junior year but had become so much more. “You know how obsessed I am with this.”
“It’s yours.” He groaned again as my fingers reached down to push under the elastic band of his boxer briefs. “You… you… don’t stop.”
I moved my palm over his shaft as I continued to rain kisses across his neck and shoulder, claiming the drawing that represented three years of our friendship.
We’d passed the paper back and forth, adding odd touches here and there—a swirling constellation reminiscent of summer nights spent stargazing, the tent Julian had added after a camping trip so muddy and miserable we’d had to laugh our asses off, the flame from the bonfires we lit in the Thicks’ backyard firepit every winter night senior year while we discussed our plans for the future. At the bottom, I’d added a pair of cupped hands that cradled the whole scene. Finally, Julian had declared it perfect and locked the page away in his dresser, and I’d forgotten all about it.
Julian hadn’t.
He’d shocked the heck out of our friends and me when he’d whipped off his shirt at the lake one summer day and displayed his new ink. I remembered Erin asking Julian what it symbolized and Julian simply saying, “Home.” And everyone had thought he’d meant Denver, or Colorado, or the mountains where we’d skied, but looking at it now, I knew exactly what he’d meant.