I chew on my bottom lip, remembering the way he looked at me the night before I left for college. We laid on my back lawn, looking up at the stars, and he tilted his head, our faces only a few inches apart. He licked his lips, and the air between us felt charged. I thought…
But then he made up some excuse and said he had to leave. We hugged each other and promised we would stay in touch, and all I could think about after he left was why I couldn’t find the courage to kiss him.
Eventually, we pull into a familiar parking lot. A laugh bubbles past my lips.
“Holy shit, I forgot about this place,” I muse, taking in the poorly kept skatepark stretching out in front of us.
Bishop parks the car, and we both climb out, making our way over to the edge of the cement playground we haunted as young teens.
“How could you forget about this place?” he asks, sitting down and letting his legs hang over the edge of the downward slope. The concrete is all cracked, grass growing up between the fractures. I follow suit, sitting down beside him and looking out over it.
“I don’t know. Isn’t that strange? It’s all rushing back to me now, but I literally haven’t thought about this place in at least a decade.”
“Do you remember the summer we spent something like ten hours a day here? You and Hudson were constantly trying to one up each other with the new tricks you practiced,” he says wistfully.
“I remember racking myself on that damn rail at least half a dozen times,” I joke, pointing to the grinding rail on the other side of the half pipes.
Bishop laughs. “I remember that. And I remember in middle school, the three of us covertly checking out the high school boys who were always here.”
“Oh, yeah,” I remember, grinning at the memory. None of us were out to each other at that point, but in hindsight I think we were all a bit obvious about it.
“Time is a son of a bitch, huh?” he muses.
“It really is,” I agree. “Things didn’t really turn out how I thought they would.”
“Me either,” he agrees with a laugh. “In good ways too though.”
He looks over at me, and my gut tightens, my heart beating a little faster.
“What’s the best thing that’s happened to you in the past ten years?” I ask.
“That’s easy.” His smile turns soft, and he leans closer, pressing his shoulder against mine. “You moving home.”
“Really?” A warm feeling wraps around me, and just like when he hugged me at the airport, I feel more at home than I’ve ever felt before.
“I understood why you wanted to leave, but it sucked. Nothing was the same after you were gone.”
“Come on, you still had Hudson,” I point out, jealousy coiling inside me. All those years I was all alone, thousands of miles away, and the two of them were here together. They got to go to college together and even shared an apartment for a short time while I missed all of it.
“It wasn’t the same,” he says again. “It was always the three of us.”
“I know,” I agree sadly. Nothing felt right after what happened with Hudson. Maybe that’s part of my resentment toward him too. Our senior year was supposed to be amazing, and instead, we spent it fighting and putting Bishop between us.
“Hey, you want to walk down the street and get burgers from that place we always used to go?” he suggests.
“And those insane chili fries?” I add, getting to my feet and holding out a hand to help Bishop up. His hand feels warm in mine, right in a way I don’t think I can handle, knowing he’s with someone else. I let go of him as soon as he has his feet under him, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“Come on, I’m starving.”
Chapter 6
Riot
Riot: Send me a dirty pic.
I grin as I send the text. Fully expecting Bishop to laugh at the message rather than send a pic.
Bishop: Why? You’ve already seen all of me.
My cock perks up quickly at the reminder. I can practically feel his body on mine, hear his moans as he fucks his cock against mine.
Fuck, I want him again.
After Leo took off and left us alone the other day, we made out on the couch for a while before time caught up with us, and I had to take off to get ready for my shift at the bar. Not that I didn’t want to get naked with him again as soon as possible, but it was fun to kiss and grope like teenagers for a while too.
Riot: Because it’s fun.
Bishop: Is that all life is about? Fun?
Riot: Most days.
I smirk as I send the response. I wish I could see the expression on his face right now. Is he smiling like I am?
Riot: When can I see you again? I owe you that date ;)
Bishop: God, it’s been ages since I’ve had a proper date. I can do Saturday if that works for you?
Riot: I can make it work.
I’m scheduled to work at the bar Saturday night, but I’m sure I can get someone to trade shifts with me. Saturdays are coveted for their tip potential. I actually end up feeling bad when I get scheduled for weekend shifts because I don’t need the money like my co-workers do.
Bishop: Where are you going to take me?
Before I can answer, a new customer walks into the bar, forcing me to look up from my phone. It’s a Wednesday night, which means it’s slow as hell at Twisted Cherry. But I still have to put my phone or notebook away every so often to keep the customers happy.
It’s not just any customer who plops himself down on a stool at the end of the bar. I would recognize that preppy haircut and expensive style anywhere.
“Hey, it’s Bishop’s friend,” I greet him with a smile.
“Hudson,” he corrects.
“What can I get for you, Hudson?”
“A beer and a shot of tequila.”
“Coming right up.”
I get his drinks and then pull my phone back out of my pocket.
Riot: Still figuring that out. But I guarantee it’ll be awesome.
Bishop: Looking forward to it.
Riot: Me too ;)
Hudson
It’s a Wednesday night, so I wasn’t expecting to run into Bishop at Twisted Cherry, but part of me had still kind of hoped. No matter how much thought I’ve given it, I haven’t been able to work out why he kissed me the way he did Friday night and then pushed me away after. Which is maybe the real reason I decided to come here tonight all by myself. I don’t get what’s going on with Bishop, but there is someone who has answers.
“Can I get another drink?” I call out to the bartender, Riot, when he nears me.
He eyes me, and I bristle at the hint of judgment I see in his gaze.
“I think you’ve probably had enough.”
I scoff, pushing my empty glasses away from me.
“You look familiar,” I say, my brain growing fuzzy from the three shots I just downed in a row.
Riot raises his eyebrows, smirking at me like I’m some kind of moron. “I’m the bartender, dude.”
“No shit,” I mutter. “I meant that I feel like I know you from somewhere else.”
“I do porn on the side,” he answers with a shrug. I widen my eyes, taking him in again in a whole new light. He’s hot, that much was always obvious, but damn, I’d totally be down to watch some porn he starred in.