When I gave Officer Hawthorne the address, he grinned. “I have a buddy who lives down this road. You must have bought the old Jackson place. I didn’t know it was for sale.”
It hadn’t been, but I had money now, and it was amazing what money could do. It was dumb luck I’d even found it, but I’d been researching Havenwood, and there it was. A two-bedroom cabin that needed a shit ton of work, but it had a lot of land, and only one other house on the gravel road with it. Where apparently, Officer Hawthorne’s buddy lived.
“I did,” I replied as he started to drive. “So…you, um…moved back not long ago?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation on him rather than me. It was a short drive, my place about two miles out of town, so with any luck, I could stall until then.
“Yeah, I grew up here. Left in my early twenties—Marines, then became an officer, before moving back. My boyfriend and I have a place not too far from—”
“Boyfriend?” I blurted out. I was stuck in that place where it still surprised me even if it shouldn’t. Of course there were LGBTQ people in every town, in every profession. That was life. But then I was also shocked that a small-town police officer was out, which he must be, if he said it to me so quickly.
The burn of jealousy scorched me at the ease with which he’d said my boyfriend. That he could be out when I couldn’t. It wasn’t as if I’d never imagined it, telling the world I was gay, maybe never having lost Law, but then worry about my career, the very thing that defined me, that made me normal, caused my anxiety to kick in. In those dreams I always lost it all.
“That a problem?” he asked, his hands having tightened on the steering wheel.
“No. Not at all. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
He nodded, but then he was quiet the rest of the drive. I’d obviously offended him, and I could understand why. If I were a better man, a different man, I’d tell him I was gay, but I was also Remington, and any time there had been questions about my sexuality, my audience had made it very clear they weren’t supportive.
A couple of minutes later we pulled onto Sleepy Time Lane. My house was first, which meant whoever lived in the other one was down at the end of the lane.
The cabin looked as it had in the photos. Small, beat up, sitting in the middle of a whole lot of wide-open space, with trees in the background and a small lake I knew was about three acres out.
We got out, and Officer Hawthorne helped me get my stuff from the cruiser. Uncomfortable, I adjusted my cap before saying, “Thanks for the ride. And again, I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding.”
“No worries. I’m a bit overprotective.”
I could understand that. It was the way you should be with someone you loved.
He drove away, leaving me standing there in the middle of the driveway. Finally, I breathed, sucked in the fresh air, and hoped like hell I could find myself, find my music again.
Before
“Did you hear about the guy who cut off the left side of his body?” I asked Law as he used the key card to open the door of our hotel room.
He stopped, looked at me, his brows pulled together. “No.”
“Eh, he’s all right now.” God, I was an idiot. I didn’t know why I told these stupid jokes. Sometimes it was all I knew how to say, and funny enough, it helped. When he chuckled, it helped even more.
“Your jokes are cute.” Law opened the door, and we stepped inside.
“Holy shit, this is a nice room. You didn’t have to get such a nice room.” I glanced around the suite.
“It’s not a big deal,” he replied, and I knew he meant it. Things like this weren’t a big deal to him, but they were to me. I could never afford to get us a room like this, where we could talk and laugh and…I didn’t know what else. I hoped there would be more, though.
But one day I would. One day I’d be able to take care of Mom and the kids, and I’d be able to take Law out for some fancy dinner and then to a room as nice as this, where we’d… I still wasn’t sure what we would do there either.
It had been three months since I’d met him. Three months since the first time we’d kissed and acted on those things I’d always known were there.
We talked every day—texting, calling, emailing, whatever. When I was playing in Charlottesville at random coffeehouses, Law always came to see me. We’d walk and talk or sit in his car and we’d kiss. Fuck, I loved kissing him. It was like his mouth broke my world open, let all this light inside. Like maybe the sunrise lived in his lips and I got to experience its beauty every time his mouth touched mine.
Tonight was the first time we were doing…this…meeting up to spend the night together, to maybe do…more than kissing.
“Are you hungry? I can get room service,” Law said, but I shook my head. I wasn’t letting him buy us food too. “You look nervous. Why are you so nervous? I don’t bite.” He winked. “Unless you want me to.”
I wanted him to do a whole lot of things to me, wanted it so much, I ached. The ease with which he said it made me feel more comfortable but also envious. I wasn’t like him. I couldn’t put myself out there the same way. Only, that wasn’t really true, was it? I did it with him. Even that first night, I’d talked to him and told him things about myself I would never say to anyone. Law was different.
“Seriously, Rem. There’s no obligation here. I just wanted… I thought it would be cool if we had somewhere to actually go, ya know?”
“I know.” I set my guitar case down. Yes, there was no obligation, but I wanted. And I knew he did too. Law was newer to these feelings, but he was a whole lot better at just going for it.
He was my first everything. My first kiss, my first…whatever we were doing. Growing up the way I had, we’d been a bit isolated. We had church and youth group, but I was always the weird, quiet kid. I didn’t make friends easily, and I sure couldn’t hit on boys, and I’d never been into girls. Law wasn’t a virgin. He’d had sex with girls, quite a few of them. And he’d liked it, from what he said. He was into both, and I wondered why in the hell he would be there with me when he could have anyone.
Words were lost to me, so I did something else instead. My hand was shaking when I reached up and cupped his face. When I pulled him in so our lips met. He opened up for me, and kissing him was like music, all the beautiful things in the world wrapped into one. My thoughts were overwhelming. I’d always been too emotional, too trapped inside myself, except when I played or when I was with him. He set me free.
God, I wanted to hold on to that. To take courage from it. To be more like him.
We kissed as I walked him backward to the bed.
We kissed for what felt like a lifetime yet only seconds too.
Then Law was tugging at my shirt and asking if it was okay.
“Yeah.” Moments later we were naked, naked together in bed, and I wanted to play him like he was my guitar, but I also couldn’t stop simply sitting there and looking at him. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”
He was like a dream, with perfect blue eyes and perfect blond curls. He lived a perfect life, yet he was still kind and wanted to be there with me.
He was everything I wasn’t and everything I didn’t know I wanted but now did. And again, it had only been three months, and here I was, stupid obsessed and feeling things I shouldn’t, not for him and not this soon, but my head was so wrapped around him, and he reached all those little places inside me that nothing but music touched.