“I can do that,” Adam said stubbornly.
“Can you?”
“I can try. If you’ll let me.”
“What if it all goes wrong? What then?”
“Then… I can go on knowing I took a chance on the one thing that has actually meant shit to me in my whole life so far.”
That defiant jut to his chin had been Jared’s kryptonite since the first time he walked into New Harbor Academy and saw the young man with the world on his shoulders, who visibly didn’t give a fuck. The rest of his armor melted away, forgotten as he crossed the few paces between them and caught Adam’s face in his hands.
Their lips knew this dance, knew the familiarity of each other, and the warmth and the strength and the love. Adam choked on a sob as he grabbed hold of Jared’s waist so hard it hurt and kissed back desperately, as if trying to show Jared everything at once, everything he had.
For all the passion in that one kiss, it didn’t last too long. Jared folded his arms around Adam’s slim frame, holding him close, resting his cheek on Adam’s soft, silky hair. Adam seemed taken aback, then he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Jared’s waist, turned his head and sighed, pressing his cheek to Jared’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” Adam mumbled.
Jared didn’t ask “what for?” even though he was tempted. In a way it didn’t matter what for. What mattered was Adam letting his guard down enough to apologize in the first place. He ran his fingers through Adam’s hair, gently untangling the strands and smoothing the back of his neck.
“That night,” Adam said, not looking up from his spot on Jared’s shoulder, “I was going to come back to bed and ask you to be my first. I wanted you to show me making love, you know, like what I’d just done with you. I was washing my face in the bathroom and I thought there might be someone else, years from now, who might be the right person to be my first, but I have you now.”
“You wanted me to fuck you? That night?”
“Yeah,” Adam whispered. “I wanted you to love me back.”
Something clenched uncomfortably in Jared’s chest, and he held Adam a little tighter. This wasn’t the time or the place for him to say it back, but it was right there. Clogging his arteries, filling his chest and lungs, making his head hurt.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Adam said, pulling back a little.
That was hell of a question. Did he?
“Yeah,” Jared said with a laugh.
“Okay. I’ll call a car.”
“I drove,” Jared said quickly.
“The Cadillac? Will you ever tell me about that?”
“Maybe,” Jared said. Adam was persuasive at the best of times, and Jared had almost no willpower when he was naked and entranced. Except for that one time. He wasn’t going to think about that now, though.
Adam grinned and reached for Jared’s hand, quietly tangling their fingers together. It was reassurance, maybe, and a little hope.
Chapter 17
Instead of going back through the house where they’d surely be stopped by someone, Adam led them around the side, through a rose garden that was sticks and thorns this time of year.
“Shh,” Jared whispered with a grin as he slid into the Caddy and turned the engine over. It roared to life, ever conspicuous, and he quickly pulled out onto the main road.
“Should you be driving?” Adam asked.
“Probably not.”
Adam nodded once and told him not to wrap the car around some tree on the way home. Jared didn’t say anything and paid closer attention to the road than he ever did sober, hardly looking over to where Adam was staring dreamily out the window.
“You can’t play Big Poppa’s music in this car,” Adam grouched as the CD player turned over to “Ready To Die.”
He fiddled with the radio instead of swapping the album for another, and Jared signaled, then turned into the narrow opening in the bushes that led to Adam’s place. He’d come here on autopilot rather than going back to his house. This, somehow, felt more appropriate. Returning to the scene of the crime.
As he slowed and put the car in park, the radio station hissed and started to play an oddly familiar tune. Jared looked at Adam with a questioning expression. For a moment, they both listened, then Adam cracked first. Jared started laughing a moment later.
“Fucking Whitney Houston,” he said, killing the engine and the music at the same time.
Adam snorted, then giggled again.
On the front steps, Adam stopped Jared with a hand on his wrist.
“It’s nearly midnight,” he said.
“Um, okay.”
“Stay here? Trust me, please.”
Jared nodded and wrapped his arms around himself to keep out the chill. There would be frost tonight, he was sure of that much.
It didn’t take long for Adam to come back, thundering down the stairs, then kicking the front door open. In his arms was a thick, bundled comforter, not the one from his room, probably one of the guest beds.
“I wanna watch the fireworks,” he said by way of explanation.
Jared grinned.
They managed to work it so they sat, backs against the door, feet stretched out in front of them with the huge, king-sized comforter wrapped around and underneath them. A few minutes later, the fireworks started, off in the distance first, over Seattle, then a few closer to home.
“It’s so dark out here,” Jared murmured. “You can see it really clearly.”
Adam dropped his head to Jared’s shoulder and hummed softly. “No light pollution. Not here, anyway.”
“Yeah.”
When they kissed it was soft, quiet, only the tiniest flicker of tongue, and Jared wondered if they’d forget the idea of having sex tonight altogether. If he was honest with himself, he was still a little wary that this could be another trap, another trick or layer to the bet.
“If I asked,” Jared said softly, his words framed
