To Be Where You Are, page 13
The sun shone without midsummer’s cruelty. A sultry breeze stirred Jackson’s hair. It was June, and he was blissfully in love.
* * * *
Adin could barely concentrate on driving. He had no idea how things had gone. Celia had been keeping to herself, or keeping herself scarce, most of the week. He hadn’t pressed her about her feelings. “We’ll talk when you get back,” she’d told him before he left for Madison yesterday.
The whole way to Milwaukee, all Adin did was analyze Celia’s recent behavior and the sound of Jackson’s voice on the phone. His results were inconclusive. He’d still come up with no clear indication of what to expect.
Creeping down city streets was less taxing than driving the interstate. Finally, Adin felt he was going somewhere. Boring as hell, the interstate could stretch a two-hour drive into a twenty-hour drive. At least that’s how it seemed today.
The simple act of turning onto Jackson’s block made his heart beat faster and harder.
Then Adin saw him, sitting on the stairs that rose from the left of his apartment door. Legs parted, forearms on thighs, beer bottle dangling from his fingers. Adin wanted to put a frame around him. Handsome Bastard Relaxing. The thought made him smile.
Jackson lackadaisically lifted a hand in greeting as Adin pulled into the short driveway. His face was expressionless. His clothes didn’t look right, either. The black jeans were a departure from the norm. Same for the white knit shirt. Ah, Adin thought, those are his Goin’ to Meetin’—or rather, Talkin’ to Women—clothes.
It didn’t matter what the hell he wore. The sight of him made Adin lightheaded. He had to force himself not to charge out of the car, across the yard, and up the steps.
Jackson’s gaze was fixed on him.
*
That face. Damn. Every time Jackson saw Adin’s face, he fancied some corner of heaven had cracked open and ejected an angel for having had the audacity to become a vampire. As much as he hated exaggeration, the image had never struck him as absurd. In fact, he’d grown quite fond of it. Now, the barely disguised apprehension in Adin’s eyes gave Jackson a stab of guilt. Those eyes were too lovely to reflect such feelings.
“What’re you doing?” Adin asked, stopping a couple of stairs down from where Jackson sat. He was breathless, obviously anxious. And he was trying to conceal it.
“I was about to check on the upper.” Jackson stood. He wanted nothing more than to lose his hands in Adin’s hair and hold that sweet face against his chest. “I haven’t done it in a while.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket.
Adin stared up at him. “Don’t you, uh … don’t you have something to tell me?”
“Yeah. Soon. Let me get this out of the way, first.” Jackson walked the few remaining steps up to the porch. “Come on. It won’t take long. Just a few minutes of landlording.” He went to the flat’s front door and unlocked it.
Adin came up behind Jackson but didn’t touch him. They were never demonstrative in this neighborhood. Or anywhere in public. Jackson wondered vaguely if that would ever change.
“Have you rented it again?” Adin asked, following him inside.
Jackson flipped on the living room’s overhead light. Bug bodies filled the well of the antique glass fixture. Nobody had lived up here in months.
“I’m not sure yet.” Jackson turned to Adin.
Their arms circled each other’s waist, drawing their bodies close. Their lips feathered together. A light graze, a soft flex, a touch of tongues. Tenderness instead of passionate abandon. Jackson smoothed a hand over Adin’s tousled hair.
“Damn it, just tell me,” Adin murmured.
“But I don’t like being the bearer of bad tidings.”
Adin pulled away. “Oh fuck.” He turned his back, put one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson said. “Try not to worry about it. You shouldn’t have too much trouble finding another place to live.”
Adin froze for a few beats then spun around.
Jackson’s grin crept back. “People get dumped all the time and don’t end up living on the streets.”
Adin grabbed Jackson’s arms. “You son of a bitch, what are you saying?”
“I know my humble dwelling isn’t a chalet in the woods, but it comes with”—Jackson shrugged—“me.”
“She wants to sell the house,” Adin whispered. His wide eyes were as blue as the Mediterranean.
“Yup. To some guy named John—”
“Fell.”
“Yeah, that sounds familiar. And she has plans, but you’re not part of them. I guess our fucking each other for seven months sent her a certain message. She’ll tell you the rest. Anyway…”
Breathing shallowly, Adin continued to stare at him. Only now did he begin to smile.
Jackson swept an arm toward the flat’s interior. “This desirable unit happens to be available, if you prefer not to have a roommate. It’s been completely updated and partially remodeled by a shitload of tradesmen rolled into one incredibly capable guy.”
“Multitalented,” said Adin, his breath smoothing and smile growing.
“In a word.”
“Sounds like he’s the desirable unit.”
“Could be, depending on one’s point of view.” Jackson strolled farther into the apartment. “One-and-a-half stories, with a charming attic bedroom, walk-in closet, and bath. On this floor, a second bedroom, perfect for an office, and a full bath and sunny kitchen with dishwasher and breakfast nook.” Jackson felt Adin’s hand run covetously over his ass. The caress went straight to his groin.
Adin yanked on a belt loop and pulled Jackson up short. Again, they faced each other. Sunshine coaxed out the highlights in Adin’s hair.
“Celia’s actually letting go?” Adin asked quietly. “For good?”
Jackson ended the tease. “Yes. She pretty much just wanted to make sure I’m not going to screw you over. I really can’t tell you more than that. I mean, about her plans and everything. It’s up to her to tell you.”
Adin nodded. “She’s known all along how I feel about you.” His fingers strayed around Jackson’s face. “I think she’s known since—”
“That evening I first came to Woodbine.” Jackson kissed Adin’s fingers whenever they skirted close to his mouth. “She said as much. Celia’s one impressive lady.”
“I know. She’s just not the person I’m in love with.” Adin delivered a gentle kiss to Jackson’s lips then stepped back and ambled around the apartment, his hands in his pockets. “So what did you tell her?” he asked nonchalantly.
Jackson stayed in one place and watched. He loved watching Adin. “I told her how I feel. It wasn’t easy.”
“Christ, I can imagine.” Adin stopped before a window and gazed out. “So, uh … you really want to take me in?”
Grinning, Jackson uttered a single, salacious “Heh.”
Adin shot him a look. “Come on, you know what I mean. Do you want to have me here?”
“I want to have you everywhere.”
Sighing, Adin shook his head and sank to the floor, where he sat cross-legged. “I just want to be near you. To be where you are.”
A musing smile on his face, he toyed with his fingers. His hands were every bit as beautiful as the rest of him—perfectly proportioned for a man, with longish fingers, a minimum of hair, nicely kept nails. Suddenly, Jackson wanted to suck them. Or something. He crossed the room and sat beside his lover, then placed his hand over Adin’s hands.
“Then do it,” Jackson said, serious now. “Come live with me and be my—”
“Renter?” Adin glanced at him; they both laughed quietly. “Married or not,” Adin said, “we’ll be together a long time.”
“For the rest of our lives, I think.”
“Do you?”
Jackson felt hope in the pulse of Adin’s warmth. He met it with conviction. “Yes, I do.”
“It won’t always be easy.”
“No, baby, it won’t. But we’ll manage. I’m sure of it.”
Adin lifted Jackson’s hand and kissed it. “You know, I love when you call me that.”
Jackson smiled. “Then I’ll keep doing it.”
Sunlight slanted across their joined hands.
The End
About the Author:
K. Z. Snow is a multi-published author who describes herself as “grossly overeducated and grossly underskilled.” Although K. Z. has written in a number of genres, her real love is m/m fiction. She lives an unremarkable life in rural Wisconsin, where she cooks as little as possible, reads and writes as much as possible, and enjoys spending time with her unremarkable friends and unremarkable dogs.
K.Z. Snow, To Be Where You Are
