“You got the cabin?” I ask, grinning wide. “This is finally happening. You’re moving!”
“It needs some work, but David offered me a lower rent if I’ll fix it up in my spare time. I didn’t have the heart to tell that beautiful man I don’t know shit about shit. But a deal’s a deal. How hard can wallpapering a cabin be?”
“Do not wallpaper that cabin,” I tell him in a firm tone.
“Fine. We’ll figure something else out.” He flashes Jace an impish grin. “As much as I’d love to stare at your hot inmate roommate slash quasi-daddy slash bodyguard, we have catching up to do.”
“Want me to kick him out?” Jace offers.
“We can’t kick him out,” I tell Jace. “Lo’s officially a Hoodlum now.”
“I absolutely love it,” I say to Loden when we pull up to his little cabin. “You have a great view of Hood River. Not even the Campfire Chaos cabin has this view.”
The snow is coming down hard, but it’s so pretty as it blankets everything within view. Loden may have given up picturesque beach views when he left California, but his view now is something straight off a postcard.
“David said normally he rents this one out for a lot because of the view, but it’s run-down and needs a facelift. I don’t know fuck all about carpentry or remodeling a house, but I’m just happy to have a place to stay.”
We climb out of his midnight-black Porsche Cayenne and approach the cabin, trudging through the accumulating snow. If I squint, through the woods I can see Cal’s cabin, smoke billowing from his chimney. This makes me incredibly happy that he’ll be so close to Cal for numerous reasons. Mainly because I’ll get to see Lo more often and that Cal can keep an eye on him.
“It’s super cute. I still can’t believe you’re here permanently.” We stop at the front steps and I look up at him. Snowflakes dust his black hair and dot his inky eyelashes. “Where do you think you’ll work?”
He shrugs and toys with his tongue ring, lost in thought. “I thought I’d look to see if I could find something with music. Teach guitar lessons or something. I don’t want to perform anymore.”
I can understand that. Knowing Loden and how good he is, it wouldn’t take long before he’d become the talk of the town here too.
“Do you have money to get you by until you figure it all out?”
He smirks. “We settled the suit. The label raped me harder than a guy named Bruce I gave my virginity to in a truck stop bathroom when I was fifteen.”
I grimace and gape at him in horror. Of course he laughs.
“But they didn’t take it all. I’m going to be okay,” he assures me.
I stand on my toes and kiss his cold, rosy cheek. “Good. Come to me if ever you’re not. That’s what friends do. They look out for each other.”
His playfulness fades as vulnerability shines through. “Do you ever think things happen for a reason? Maybe a shit storm decimates everything because then it puts a rainbow right in your path, somehow making you appreciate all the beauty around you?”
“That’s a good way of looking at it,” I agree.
“I hit rock bottom and ended up in rehab. I met you and you just get me, baby. Unlike Mena or Dad or anyone. It’s nice when someone understands.” He flashes me a wolfish grin. “Now can we have butt sex?”
I smack his arm. “Way to undo all the poetic shit in one statement.”
We’re both laughing when we head inside. Since he came by earlier and turned on the heat, it’s nice and warm inside. It’s a small cabin nearly identical to Cal’s being that it’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms with a small dining room, kitchen, and living room. Cal’s is more modernized while this unit seems to still have drapes from the seventies. Orange and brown and yellow are the color scheme. It makes me want to tear it all down. Loden doesn’t seem horrified by the colors, though. In fact, there’s a pep in his step and he bounces around the place showing me every little detail.
He’s proud.
The man who was a rock god, lived in a friggin’ mansion in California, and drives a Porsche is proud of a tiny, fixer-upper cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Oregon.
“I’ll order pizza and you can help me unpack,” Loden says.
“Ahh, the real reason I’m here. To do the hard work.”
He shrugs, grinning. “A trick, yes. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
I flip him off but then tackle the mountain of clothes that have been dumped onto his bed.
Me: I’ll be by soon. Miss you.
Chaos Hoodlum: It drives me crazy knowing you’re literally two hundred feet away. I want to storm over there, toss you over my shoulder, and bring you home.
Home.
My heart does a little patter in my chest.
Me: Twenty more minutes. I’ll say goodbye and then head that way.
Chaos Hoodlum: Clock is ticking, loser.
I laugh just as Loden exits his bedroom. He took a quick shower to wash off the grime from unpacking. Of course he’s your typical rock god. Tattooed. Muscular. Pierced. He’s a walking work of art. One day, he’s going to find the right guy who will not just love the gorgeous man on the outside, but want to protect and care for the broken, imperfect one inside. I hope Hood River will lead him right to his happy rainbow.
“If you want to give me a blowie, baby, all you gotta do is ask,” he says, winking my way.
I roll my eyes. “Pass.”
“Then roll up your tongue, woman.”
“You know you’re hot. Anyone with working eyeballs knows you’re hot. Doesn’t mean I want to suck your dick.”
He chuckles, dropping down onto the sofa. “Thank fuck. I got a blowjob from a chick once. She was fucking terrible. I mean, I’m willing to go the extra
