“Where you headed?”
“I’ma stay at a friend’s place in Norfolk for a while until I can get a decent job.” Wood tried not to think about how long that would be knowing he had to start from scratch. “At least I’ll have my own room for once.”
Rayne chuckled, his pretty eyes dancing when he did. It was as if he became a different person when he wasn’t trying to be sexy. “I hear ya. I’m stalling as long as I can before going inside. I’m so sick of Jerome and his body odor I don’t know what to do. I swear if I step on one more grungy, crusty sock, I’m gonna hang him with it. Gah! And he wonders why he’s the only guy on earth I won’t sleep with.”
Wood smirked. “You’ll be outta here in a couple weeks, right?”
“Yep.” Rayne stretched his lean arms above his head, and Wood caught a glimpse of smooth, pale skin over hard abs. He hurried and snapped his eyes back toward the road. Come on, Bishop.
“Sure am. It’s back to the real world. Cocks, balls, and shopping malls,” Rayne sang.
Wood narrowed his eyes.
“I’m joking.” Rayne blew out a long, frigid breath. “I’m gonna try really hard this time to do the steps, you know. I got a decent sponsor now… she’s nice. Thank fuck it’s not a he. That rarely works out for me.”
“You’ll be fine,” Wood muttered.
“I’m glad you have confidence in me, Wood. Maybe that’s why I flirt with you so much. I’m safe because I know you’ll say no.” Rayne’s eyes glazed over with sadness. “So pathetic.”
“Look at it this way. You could’ve gone inside and started messing with any one of the guys lounging in the den. And probably not met much rejection. But instead you stopped to flirt with me knowing that I’d say no. You’re fighting it, Rayne, whether you realize it or not.”
He seemed to contemplate those words for a moment before turning a stunning smile toward him. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Find someone, someplace, safe when you get out of here, okay?”
Rayne nodded. “I will. I’m going to my uncle’s. He has that music shop I told you about on Cypress Avenue. He’s got work for me and everything.”
“That’s good.” Wood was quiet as his mind went to seeing Bishop and meeting his longtime friend—Wood’s new roommate—Trent. He’d heard so many wild stories about Trent until he’d made the man out to be some kind of badass in his head.
“I better go. I have a counseling session in a few minutes.” Rayne stepped forward, then hesitated before inching closer. “Can I hug you… like… just a regular hug?”
Wood didn’t say anything as he stood taller and opened his arms. Rayne touched their chests together and wrapped his arms high up around Wood’s waist. Wood loosely draped his arms over Rayne’s shoulders and dipped his head to his temple. The slight man trembled against him, but Wood didn’t believe it was from arousal. Rayne breathed heavily against his chest as he buried his face near his underarm and gripped him as tight as he could.
“You know what? I’ll tell you a little secret,” Wood whispered close to him. “I’m scared too.”
He held Rayne silently, both of them lost in their thoughts and the unknown as he waited for the only friend he had in the world, Bishop.
Chapter Two
Trent
Trent continued to dust his classic record player as he ignored the persistent knocking on his bedroom door. He’d never had his own room, so he was looking forward to some much-deserved privacy. All of his life he’d had to share a room with either his mom, or with fifteen other guys in a dorm, or with a cellmate. If he was lucky, sometimes he’d get to sleep on somebody else’s couch in their basement. He admitted he hadn’t been excited about his best friend, Bishop, leaving and moving in with his partner, Edison after only being together for ten months, but that was love he supposed. Bishop’s dad, Mike, moved in with his girlfriend a while ago, so Trent was starting to get used to the silence.
“Trent, stop being an ass and open the door,” Bishop barked as he banged on the flimsy wood.
“If you break it, you fix it!” Trent yelled back.
He heard Bishop’s loud sigh. “Me and Edison are about to go pick up Wood. Do you wanna come with us?”
No! Trent clenched his jaw. What kind of name is Wood? He wasn’t sure about the man coming here to live with him, but it wasn’t exactly his choice. This wasn’t his trailer, although he sometimes wished it was; it was owned by Bishop’s dad, Mike. And while he was grateful to have a place to rent, he had no say in who else Mike allowed to room there. Trent was twenty-nine years old and he was beginning to believe that this was as good as his life was going to get.