of my stuff in my duffle bag and zip it up. Preston is lying on his bed, pretending to ignore the fact that I’m leaving for two weeks. He’s doing a shitty job of it.
Honestly, I’m scared to leave him. He still wakes up with nightmares, but they’ve been getting less intense since I started sleeping with him all night. What is he going to do while I’m gone? Will he sleep at all? Or work himself into exhaustion so he hopefully won’t dream? None of these options are good ones.
My phone dings with a notification, telling me it’s time to head to the airport.
“Alright, I’m heading out.” I turn around and find him standing directly behind me. He slides his hands under my shirt to press his fingers into my skin. “You could come with me.”
“I’m not ruining your family’s time with you.” He growls, crashing his lips to mine to stop the same argument we’ve had every day since Thanksgiving. Preston’s tongue pushes into my mouth while he pulls my hips against him. I’m owned by this guy.
I love him.
The thought should shock me but it doesn’t. It’s fucking true. I don’t know when it changed from I could love you to I love you but I can’t argue with myself.
Preston groans into my mouth when I cup his head and hold him against me. My dick hardens, notching together against his, and I roll my hips. I don’t have time to do anything right now and he’s already fucked my brains out this morning, but that doesn’t mean my body isn’t willing.
My phone goes off again, this time telling me my Uber is here. Reluctantly, I pull my lips from his and he chases my mouth, not ready to end the contact.
“I have to go,” I say against his lips. Giving him quick kisses.
“I know.” He sighs and steps back, pulling his fingers from inside my shirt and adjusting himself in his jeans.
He picks up my bag and heads to the door.
“I can carry that myself.” I wander out after him once I’ve made sure my hard-on is semi hidden.
“I know.”
Preston stops at Paul and Brendon’s room, knowing I’ll want to say goodbye to them.
The door opens and Paul is in only a pair of sweatpants.
“Hey, man, you leaving?” He eyes Preston holding my bag but steps up to give me a back patting bro hug. Preston growls at the contact and Paul chuckles.
“Take care of him for me, yeah?” I say quietly before stepping back.
Paul nods at me as Brendon comes forward, him in a t-shirt and boxer briefs.
Brendon reaches for a hug too but Preston stops him with a hand to his chest. “Put some fucking pants on.”
Brendon looks up at Preston like he’s an idiot. “I’m not going to fuck him right here in the hallway, relax.”
He leans into Preston’s hand until Preston moves, grumbling about an ass kicking later. I hug my best friend with a grin.
“Don’t drive him up the wall while I’m gone, okay? I love-” I cut myself off midsentence at the words. Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Did he hear me?
Brendon pulls back from me with a shit-eating grin on his face. I give him a don’t you fucking dare look and he ducks back into the room laughing like a lunatic. Fuck.
Paul lifts a brow at me but I shake it off and follow after Preston as he heads to the elevators.
He hits the call button and we stand almost shoulder to shoulder, my bag between us. Did he hear what I said? No, right? He would say something if he did. Right?
It’s not long before the doors slide open and we step inside. When the doors close, Preston drops my bag and pushes me against the wall, pinning my hands above my head and sucking on my neck.
I grind against him with a moan as he bruises me, marks me for everyone to see. My torso is already covered in scratches and bite marks. I’ll have to be careful around my family so I don’t have to answer any awkward questions, but this one I can’t hide.
When the elevator stops and dings, Preston lets go of me, his lips making a pop sound when the suction is broken. He grabs my bag and strides out of the elevator while I’m trying to breathe normally again and clear the lust fog from my brain.
With a huff of sexual frustration, I follow after him to the car sitting at the curb. Preston has the door open for me with my bag already inside.
“Have a safe trip,” he whispers as I slide inside. “Text me when you land.”
I wink at him as he shuts the door, shoves his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie, and steps back from the curb. I keep my eyes on him as the driver pulls away, hating to lose the connection I have with him.
Guilt eats at me with every foot of space that’s put between us. I don’t want to leave him.
We pull onto the freeway and my phone dings with a message. Confused at Preston sending me a message already, I open it to find a picture of his hand wrapped around his dick with a bead of precum dripping down his head.
Fuck. Me.
I almost groan out loud. Almost.
Carmichael: We miss you already.
Albrooke: You’re an asshole. I almost groaned OUT LOUD!
He replies with a bunch of crying, laughing emojis. The ass.
Albrooke: Better be careful or I’ll set this as the background on my phone.
Carmichael: Hope your mom doesn’t see it.
Albrooke: She knows I’m gay.
Carmichael: Doesn’t mean she wants to see the dick you’re fucking.
I snort out a laugh. He’s not wrong but I’m not telling him that.
Albrooke: Take a selfie for me.
Carmichael: Why? Need a picture to jack off to in the airplane bathroom?
Albrooke: HA! You wish. Just do it.
It takes a few minutes but a picture of Preston looking bored pops up and it makes me laugh. What a dick.
Another picture comes through, this time with his nose scrunched up and his tongue sticking out. That’s the one.
I save the picture and set it as my phone’s background then send him a screenshot.
Carmichael: You trying to be my boyfriend or something? You’re becoming a stage five clinger.
Albrooke: You are my boyfriend. You can’t leave me cause I’d find you.
The scene from Wedding Crashers plays in my head and I chuckle.
I get a message from Paul and open it.
Johnson: YOU SAID THE L WORD!!!
I groan and drop my head back against the headrest. Fucking Brendon.
Albrooke: I’m going to kick Brendon right in the ass when I get back. He’s got a big fucking mouth.
Johnson: Why didn’t you tell me? I’m the trustworthy one of this group.
Albrooke: I hate you both. I’m trying to sext with my boyfriend.
Johnson: I fucking hope not! He’s with us!
A picture comes through from Paul of Preston glaring at Brendon, who’s inhaling an ice cream cone.
I flip over to my message thread with Preston.
Albrooke: Already over me, huh?
Carmichael: They showed up mid jerk off and wouldn’t leave. If Brendon doesn’t stop deepthroating this ice cream, I’m going to knock him out.
I chuckle at the mental image. Brendon is one hundred percent doing it on purpose to piss off Preston. It’s his way of showing he cares. If Preston is annoyed by him, Preston won’t have time to miss me. Brendon is a weird one, but he’s a good dude and I love that he’s doing his best to help Preston simply because I asked.
Albrooke: Careful, he might like that.
Carmichael: If that were true, you would still be fucking him.
Okay, he has me there.
I arrive at the airport and grab my bag. Standing on the sidewalk outside the departure doors, I take a deep breath before heading inside to check in. This is the worst part of travel. Once I’m at the gate I’ll be fine but getting checked in and through security is an anxiety attack waiting to happen.
It takes an hour and a half to get through check in and security, then I end up taking the tram to another part of the airport to get to my gate and wait there for boarding. Since I’m not a small dude, my mom sprung for business class so I have some extra leg room. It’s glorious.
For the next few hours, I watch movies on my phone and message my mom, thanks to the Wi-Fi on board.
Brendon and Paul are keeping Preston busy, which he is begrudgingly happy for. It keeps him from moping around the dorm room or working out until he passes out.
When I finally land in Michigan and make my way to baggage claim, I smile when I see the big cardboard sign my mom is holding up.
“Welcome Home Hockey Star!”
People are standing around and watching to see who this hockey star is and are disappointed when it’s not someone they know.
Stacy lets go of Ella as I hit the bottom of the escalator and she runs for me with her arms up. I hunch down to catch her and twirl her around when I have her.
“Hey there, big girl!” She wraps her arms around my neck, refusing to let go. I rub her back and give her a big hug. “I missed you too, baby.”
Mom rushes toward me next, wrapping her arms around my waist to hug me next to Ella, who yells at having to share me. She looks the same, though I think she’s got a few more wrinkles around her eyes. At five foot nine, she’s tall for a woman, but all of us boys tower over her. Her brown hair is loose down her back, and while she’s never been small, she’s always been able to keep up with us. She’s strong as an ox and can probably work longer than the rest of us.
Stacy laughs and gives me a high five while the boys give me fist bumps. Dad wraps his arms around me and Ella, patting me on the back while Ella screams at him, pushing at him to let go. Dad went gray a few years ago. He swears it’s because of the twins, and that may be true since they get into trouble chasing girls pretty often.
“Alright, baby, you’re okay.”
“Nice of you to steal my kid,” Stacy grumbles when she tries to take the little girl who refuses to let go of me.
“Told you I’m her favorite.”
Mom tucks herself under my free arm and wraps her arm around my back. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
While we wait for my duffle to come through the baggage claim line, the boys tell me about football, girls, and fights with friends. I don’t miss the drama of high school.
I point out my bag and Dad grabs it for me. We head out to the car, stopping for everyone to put on jackets since it’s cold as fuck out there. There’s a good foot of snow on the ground, so the forty-minute drive home to Muskegon will probably be an hour and a half, depending on the roads.
“How long did it take to get here?” I ask Dad as I get Ella loaded in the Suburban.
“Not long, ‘bout an hour.” He shrugs. Jordan and Keith buckle into the back row of seats with my bag, Stacy and I take the middle on either side of Ella and we hit the road.
“How do you like Denver?” Mom turns to face me.
“I haven’t been out much, hockey and classes keep me busy.” I shrug, pulling my phone from my pocket and taking a selfie with my siblings and Ella.
Albrooke: Made it to Michigan, now we drive.
Carmichael: How long is the drive?
“You don’t get time off?” Stacy asks this time.
“Not during the season. Are you crazy?”
Albrooke: Could be an hour, could be four. Who knows. Depends on the roads and if the weather turns.
Carmichael: How the fuck do you live like that?
Albrooke: I’m used to it. I was born here.
Preston’s question makes me smile. Mister has to schedule everything down to the minute, could not handle it here.
“Who is making you smile like that?” Mom asks, a knowing smile on her face.
“That has to be the boyfriend,” Stacy rats me out while I can’t escape our parents.
“You’re dead to me!” I turn a glare at her. “Now I’m definitely pushing you down the stairs.”
“Boyfriend? When did this happen?” Mom screeches.
I slump into my seat, preparing for the interrogation.
“Thanksgiving,” I sigh.
“That was weeks ago!” she yells and the boys snicker behind me.
Both of them muttering “Sucker,” under their breaths.
“Who is it? What’s his name? How did you meet?” Mom rapid fires questions at me.
“It’s Preston Carmichael, he’s on the team and my roommate.”
Mom lifts an eyebrow at me, which I was expecting. “And what is he doing for Christmas?”
“He stayed at school with Brendon and Paul.”
“I was going to ask you about that. Why didn’t they come home?” She redirects the conversation, thank fuck.
“Brendon’s family decided to go to Hawaii and he didn’t want to spend the money on a ticket. Paul’s dad is out on a big ice fishing trip so he didn’t see the point of coming back.” I shrug.
“They both could have come to the house, they’re always welcome,” she insists.
“They know, Mom.”
A picture comes through my chat with Paul.
Opening the message, I laugh at the look on Preston’s face while he watches Brendon inhale what looks like a deep fried Twinkie.
Albrooke: He might actually die watching Brendon eat that.
Johnson: He’s determined to get your boy drunk. I’ll keep you updated. But so far, he’s holding strong and won’t drink.
Albrooke: He’s a lightweight so be careful and send me videos.
“Is Preston’s family local in Denver?” Mom starts back up.
“His dad moved there the same time he did, but his sister is in New York for school.”
She nods like this is what she was hoping for. “So he’s spending the holiday with his dad, good.”
Ice shoots through my veins. Fuck. I hadn’t thought of that. How could I be so fucking stupid? Is that why he didn’t want to come out here with me? Did he know he would have to see his dad and didn’t want to tell me because I already had a ticket to come home?
This time, I don’t text him, I call him and hope reception holds long enough for me to talk to him.
The phone rings in my ear a few times before Preston’s voice comes across the line.
“Jeremy, you okay?” His concern has a weight dropping into my stomach.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Did you not want to come out here because you have to see your dad and you didn’t want me to know?” I’m fully aware that my family is listening to my conversation but oh well. I need to hear his voice when he answers me. It’s too easy to lie over text.
“Hold on,” I hear him excuse himself and head outside of wherever he is. “Baby,” his voice is smooth like good liquor and just as enticing when he calls me that. That term of endearment does things to my insides that I wish it didn’t while I’m locked in the car with my family. I suck in a breath to release some of the tension. “I’m not planning to see him. He normally leaves for Christmas, so I don’t even think he’s going to be in town.”
“Promise? If you’re lying to me, I’ll kick your ass.”
He chuckles, “You wish you could.”
“There is so much more I could say if I wasn’t locked in a car with my entire family,” I grumble.
“Yeah? Like what? You won’t fuck me? Won’t suck my dick?” Despite the amusement in his voice, his words are turning me on, which is very uncomfortable given my current circumstances.
“Yeah, all of the above.” I manage to get out through gritted teeth
“You and I both know I would take it and you would like it.” The dark tone of his voice has goosebumps breaking out over my skin.
“I hate you.”
He laughs again and this time, it’s villainous. “You might wish that were true but we both know it’s not.”
I growl at him because he’s right. Even when I wanted to hate him, I didn’t. Ella imitates my growl, pretending to be a bear if I had to guess, and I smile at her.
“Why did you sic your friends on me? You’re going to have to make this up to me.”
It’s my turn to laugh this time. “I didn’t expect them to drag you out of the dorms today. How did they manage to convince you to leave?”
“I was rubbing one out and they barged in, told me if I went with them now, they would go easy on me and leave me alone afterward. They lied.”
I chuckle again. “So what you’re saying is, you’re a sucker?”
“Shut up. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t end up punching Brendon in the face before the end of the day.”
Keith and Jordan start bickering behind me and won’t quit so I tell Preston goodbye and turn to my brothers. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Nothing,” they say in unison.
“Probably fighting over the girl from across the street,” Stacy says, not looking up from her phone.
“Excuse me?!” Mom hollers from the front seat, turning to look at her youngest kids.
“Oh, I see how it is.” I look at my older sister. “You’re telling everyone’s business so Mom doesn’t start in on you about the neighbor you’re once again sleeping with?”
Stacy flings her head at me with murder in her eyes. I smile at her, Mom yelling “Stacy!” while I chuckle. Ella babbles, pointing at the boys she can see over the back of the seat like she’s telling on them too. Dad sighs and shakes his head, stifling his laugh at the ensuing chaos.
“They’ve been sneaking that girl into the house! I think they’re pretending to be the same person to mess with her!” Stacy points behind her while facing Mom and my mouth falls open in shock.
Ella giggles and covers her mouth.
“What?!” Mom shrieks again, spinning around in her seat to yell into the back.
“You’re one to talk!” they yell at Stacy.
Keith points at her, accusing, “You’re screwing half the dudes on our street!”
Stacy gasps and I crack up, holding my stomach as I laugh so hard the muscles hurt.
It’s good to be home.
