Despite It All by Reese Knightley
One week later
Greene
Ahard smack thumped the pavement repeatedly and drew him from the bed to the back patio door.
He leaned a shoulder against the open patio door and watched Forest. The guy wore cheery red basketball trunks, a loose white t-shirt, and bare feet. He ran and tossed a dark orange basketball into the air, and it landed in the white hoop.
Forest had made the call to Robert’s cell phone one week ago. Still no return call. All was quiet at the safe house. The unit had kept out of sight, but so far, no movement. It was as if the mole had gone quiet and so had Summer’s whereabouts.
Forest seemed to have put it in the back of his mind and he did the same. He wanted to soak up every moment he had left with Forest. He’d spent the past seven nights in the man’s arms, the days spent getting to know him and hiding away from the world.
But real life had a way of sneaking up on a man and this right here? This hideaway on the beach, was not real fucking life. Or at least, it wasn’t his life.
Spotting him in the doorway, Forest turned and bounced the ball on the ground, thump, thump, thump.
“Feeling brave?”
“I’d whoop you like last time.”
“That was sheer luck, buddy.” Forest’s eyes sparkled.
He shoved from his lean and spotted his Tweety mug on the table.
“You made me coffee?”
Forest grinned, thump, thump, thump.
He chuckled at the cheeky smile and picked up the mug. Although Forest had been making him coffee for the past week, it always surprised him that Forest went out of his way like that. Gulping down half the liquid, he pulled off his t-shirt and flexed beneath Forest’s suddenly keen stare.
He stepped onto the small cement slab beneath the basket wearing only his boxer briefs. The surface was cool on his bare feet, the sun hot over his head, and he swiped at the ball.
Forest dodged and bounced the ball expertly around him, backing into him, pressing his ass into his crotch.
Groaning, he forgot about the ball and closed his hands on the man’s ass. Forest laughed, spun, and threw the ball. It landed in the basket.
“Cheater,” he grumbled, making another grab at those tight, round cheeks.
“Keep up, Sergeant.”
Thump, thump, thump.
“I’ll show you sergeant.”
They played around, half assed for about half an hour, and he slowed his pace when Forest favored his left wrist one too many times for his peace of mind.
“I’m whooped,” he called it, hands on his thighs.
Forest smiled and bounced the ball to him. He grabbed it, took a last shot, and it swooshed through the net.
“Lucky shot.”
“So you say.”
Forest flung an arm around him and he caught the man around the waist and swung him around. The ball thumped and then rolled away to the corner of the patio. He dipped his head and rubbed his beard against Forest’s neck, sucking in the smell of vanilla and sweat. Forest slipped his fingers into his sweaty hair and fisted the strands before pulling away.
“I’ll get more coffee.”
Reluctantly, he eased his grip and let Forest slip away and returned to the table. He drained the remainder of his cooling coffee and then sprawled in one of the wrought iron chairs.
Forest returned with more creamer and coffee. It was weird and felt a bit domestic, which lowered his defenses. All he knew was that he didn’t want this to end and he didn’t want Forest to find out about him from someone else. Then again, maybe Forest already knew he was a drunk.
Forest pulled one of the chairs closer to him and sat. The scrape of Velcro sounded when Forest removed the brace and dropped it on the table.
“Do you remember the first time you talked to me?” Okay, here went nothing. His heart rate increased and he rubbed his palms on his shorts.
“Of course, I questioned your choice of alcohol.” Forest tossed him a smiling glance.
The answer wasn’t what he was expecting, and he stared, trying to decide if Forest was pulling his leg or not.
“My choice?”
“Yeah,” Forest smiled softly. “It was my failed attempt at starting a conversation. I thought you’d say something like what do you suggest I drink? I was going to suggest the red wine…” Forest’s words trailed off.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, why would I?” Forest paused from taking a sip of coffee.
Fucking Christ. Forest had been flirting with him. He’d been so wrapped up in guilt that he’d never dreamed in a million years that the run in at the bar had been flirting. When Forest had walked away that night, he’d planned to have it out with him about butting into his business.
But Forest never came back.
The thought of it soured his gut. Not that he could have changed anything. Could he have?
If he’d hadn’t misunderstood and flirted back, maybe Forest would have stayed and not been on the road at that particular time.
“Well, I fucked that up royally. I thought you were saying I should lay off the booze.” He rubbed at the burn in his chest.
“What?” Forest’s brow creased. “I’d never do that.”
“Not even now? After a drunk driver crashed into your car?” His mouth grew dry.
“No, I wouldn’t. Unless someone had a problem.”
The air stilled and shifted between them. Or maybe that was his imagination working overdrive with guilt. Those ocean blue eyes were locked on him with all the intensity he deserved, but dreaded nonetheless.
He cleared his throat and wiped a hand at his mouth, and then on his boxers to remove the sweat.
“Forest?”
“Yeah?”
The words, I’m a drunk wouldn’t come out. They should have, though. He should tell Forest right the fuck now what his demons were since they’d crossed a big line. He swallowed and gazed into those bright eyes, the smile curving upward on the man’s lips.
“I’m fucking starving.”
The sudden laughter that filled the patio caused his own lips to quirk. Everything about Forest drew him in, but it was a pipe dream.
Was it wrong to want a little more time to be in this man’s company? To want that long, lean body against his without the horror that would wash over his expressive face when he discovered the truth? Because eventually, he’d find out that he was a failure and then all this would end.
The sounds of the ocean faded when those blue eyes locked with his, and Forest’s soft smile eased his panic.
“We’re almost out of everything we ordered last week.” Forest pulled out his phone. “I’ll order breakfast from the grocery app and stock up.”
While Forest completed the order for food, he reached for and toyed with the fingers of Forest’s left hand. Gently, softly feeling each finger before he turned the man’s wrist over and dipped his head. With his lips, he caressed the knot of scars on the inside of his wrist.
When he lifted his head, Forest was watching him with an expression that was hard to define.
“Tell me about Summer,” he whispered.
“She’s my best friend.” Forest rubbed at his stomach. “We were both in the car accident that killed her husband, Rick.”
“Liam told me that you and Rick were in the car, but I had no idea that Summer was,” he said gruffly.
“Rick was killed and Summer thankfully, walked away physically unharmed.”
“How long were you in the hospital?”
“I didn’t injure any major organs, so only a couple of nights.”
He brought Forest’s fingers to his lips again, bringing a smile from the man.
Forest took a deep breath and seemed to shake himself. “So, tonight I have somewhere I need to be.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s Sunday, I’ve got to go to my mom’s for dinner.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, want to come with me?”
Dinner at Forest’s mom’s house? His experience with moms was zilch. His own mother hadn’t wanted him around, so he’d spent the majority of his youth running the streets. It was only by sheer luck that he hadn’t broken any laws above stealing candy from the local store.
No, he didn’t want to go and have dinner at his mom’s house. That would be like shoving a grenade up his ass. Or closer to something right out of his fucking childhood nightmares filled with drug addicts, hookers, and rotten food.
“It’s okay, you can stay here, order fast food, and watch movies.”
He blinked at that soft voice, always a sucker for a soft voice, but he knew it was more than that. It took only one look at Forest’s crestfallen face to find his answer.
“Of course, I’ll go.”
Shit.
“Awesome.”
They talked for a long time after that and he shared a bit more of his childhood. Forest had a way of digging shit out of him and they spent the rest of the morning eating pancakes and joking around.
They talked nonstop, more so than he’d thought they would, and he wondered why he didn’t already know that they had so much in common. Maybe that was because he found Forest so easy to talk to.
Later, during the afternoon, he ran on the beach, chasing Forest. The man was fast, hella quick, and only let him, he was sure of it, catch him when he was damned well good and ready.
Tumbling in the sand, he rolled so his back was in the water and Forest stretched over him, their mouths fused together. When the afternoon grew late, they took a long shower, and he decided it was his favorite way to cool off.
Just as the sun was setting, he stepped out onto the back porch and lit up a quick smoke while he waited for Forest to finish dressing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help the man button up his shirt and do the zipper and button on his jeans, but if he got that close, he was going to start tearing clothes off.
He’d noticed the slight awkwardness when Forest was buttoning his shirt and he’d stepped forward to help. Forest threw him a dark look and he’d hightailed it out of the bedroom. Forest was independent, and he made a mental note to only help if asked. That should keep him off the guy’s shit list. Damn those blue eyes could cut deep when he stepped out of line.
He drew in the smoke deeply and moved his neck from side to side to ease the tightness. Stiff muscles was what keeping secrets did to a man, and secrets were deadly to relationships.
His secret was the kind that fucked up families, plain and simple. Booze wasn’t his only addiction. He grimaced and stared at his cigarette. He'd been counting them; he’d only had four cigarettes the whole day. It amazed him how Forest kept him from biting and snarling.
Tugging his cell phone from his pocket, he called Pat.
“Was wondering when you’d call again.”
“Sorry.”
“Did you get to a meeting?”
“No, not yet.”
“What have you been up to?” the sober marine asked.
“A job. A man.”
Pat knew he was gay, so that wouldn’t surprise the guy.
“A relationship over the next year won’t do you any good.”
“If I can get to a year.” He was coming up on ninety days for the first time ever.
“A relationship won’t help you reach it.”
“I know that.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Cravings?”
“No, not since the last time I called.”
“Good. You have my number.”
Pat told him to get to a meeting and then rang off.
“All set?”
He tucked his phone away and turned.
“Work?” Forest gave him a wide smile.
“Yeah.” The word stuck in his throat.
Dressed in tight, black bootcut jeans, a button down, black dress shirt and bright orange sneakers, Forest was a fucking vision. He was sure that on another person, the outfit wouldn’t have worked, but on Forest, it was hot, almost outrageous, those sneakers a bold fuck you to the world.
He fucking loved it.
Tossing his smoke into the glass on the table, he followed Forest out the front door.
“How far away does she live?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Mason and I moved her here when I bought this house.”
“Does she like it here?”
“She likes it anywhere we are,” Forest laughed and hopped into the passenger seat, rattling off the address.
He made a mental note to drive at the speed limit. He didn’t need Forest a nervous wreck before he got to his mother’s house. He was a wreck enough for both of them. His own palms were sweating at the thought of meeting the woman who’d given birth to Forest.
A few miles down the road, Forest flipped on the radio and plugged in his iPhone to the car.
“Any music preference?” One eyebrow lifted beneath the fall of hair hiding the butterfly bandage on the man’s forehead, but the hair wasn’t long enough to hide that sexy smile.
“You pick.” He pulled onto the freeway.
“You asked for it.”
He only had a moment to wonder what that meant before Forest selected a song from the iTunes app.
4 Non Blondes’ What’s Up, belted from the speakers, “And I pray, oh my god do I pray, I pray for sake of day.”
“For a revolution!” Forest sang loudly, cranking up the volume.
Chuckling, he followed Forest’s lead and bobbed his head.
“And so I wake in the morning and I step outside,” Forest belted.
“And I take a deep breath and scream real loud.” He sang the words wrong because he didn’t really know the song.
Forest laughed, throwing him a teasing look and sang, “What’s going on!”
“I don’t know,” he belted out way off key.
They laughed and sang the rest of the song together and by the time they reached the house, he’d forgotten about being nervous.
The white painted house with blue trim and a flower garden sat next to the beach just as Forest’s house did.
Yeah, he’d forgotten to be nervous until he saw Forest’s mother waving from the front window.
Fuck, this was a really bad idea. What the fuck had he been thinking? Meeting the parents?
“Ready?”