Page 4 of Rocking the Receiver
With my duffle slung over my shoulder, I notice his family exiting the pool house from afar. We wave at each other, and I follow my friend, my head swiveling in every direction to see if my memory betrayed me. Adjacent to the living room, the large family kitchen has been remodeled and updated with what looks like a new dark blue La Cornue cooking range. All in all, it’s modern, while blending perfectly with the medieval castle-likefeel of the house. Things look smaller, but then again, I was a late bloomer, and my last visit here prompted my growth spurt.
He halts in front of the massive wooden staircase that always reminded me of the one in Titanic. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he repeats, as if unable to fathom that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. Then, he awkwardly pats my shoulder blade before pulling me into a quick hug. “It’s been what?”
“Since I’ve been here, you mean? Eleven years, man! Thankfully, I’ve seen your ugly mug countless times since then.” My knuckles rasp over his neatly-styled hair and mess it up until he swats my hand away, grinning and mumbling threats.
Yeah, it’s good to be back.
Our jobs require plenty of international travel, which helped us to see each other in person. I haven’t seen his family, though. I heard that the oldest girl, Manon, has a steady boyfriend now, so at least, she won’t try to get into my pants like last time. She’s a sweet, good-looking girl, but has definitely never been my type to begin with.
“Too bad I never got a chance to attend one of your gigs. When are you touring in France with your band?”
“It’s not in the cards in the near future. Once I’m done in Nashville, I’m heading back to Manhattan… Anyway, I doubt France is ready for modern country music… or any type of country music, actually.”
“You’d be surprised! I heard they have square-dancing classes scattered across the country.” I get a ridiculous visual and put my hand in front of my mouth as I chuckle heartily. “Well, not here or in Orange, obviously, but I swear it’s a trend. Theydress up and everything…” It doesn’t subside easily. I eventually apologize for mocking his fellow citizens.
Eager to meet everyone as well as famished, I sprint up the stairs to drop off my bag only to wait for Tim to show me to my room.
Leading the way, Tim explains, “Samuel’s former bedroom has been turned into a guest room because, as always, he whined that he had the smallest room. So, that’s where you’ll be staying. It’s across from Elliot’s.”
As if on cue, his younger brother, who must have been like six or seven when I last saw him in real life, appears before us.
My windpipe shuts down as I hold back from gaping.
Barely.
CHAPTER 3
STARSTRUCK
Elliot
Now.This is happening right now.
The lump that’s taken residence in my throat prevents me from breathing properly. My hand is glued to the doorknob as a cold shiver runs through me, and my body refuses to move except for my other hand that forms a fist so I can cough into it to get my bearings.
To no avail because I cannot look away. I must look like a deer caught in headlights. The sound I make reminds me of a strangled cat.
I had no idea they would come upstairs upon arrival… I figured they would stay by the pool instead. Of course, I heard the car!
The plan was to help Mom with the last-minute things like setting the table in the gazebo, after I was done with my umpteenth shower of the day, while Dad worked the barbecue. Yup, jerking off under icy water has become my new favorite activity today. Postponing the reunion would have given me timeto brace myself and appear busy enough to conceal how his presence affects me.
No such luck.
Intense green eyes cage my chocolate ones. They’re usually the color of milk chocolate that I used to stuff my face with as a kid, but the heat rising in my cheeks tells me that they are getting darker by the second. I hate that he’s slightly taller than me, so I have to look up. But with that hungry look on me, the rest of the world ceases to exist. Rupert Smith takes my breath away.
Looking into my soul. Stripping me bare. Unveiling my deepest secrets. So much for concealing who I really am and what I desire the most, well,who.
He knows, doesn’t he?
Meanwhile, my damp hair is dripping down my neck. Talk about being uncomfortable! My heart thumps a punishing pace, which leads me to believe I’m about to faint, and my hand tightens around the knob.
“You okay there, bro’?” Tim’s fingers snap in front of my eyes and his large hand pats me on the back, yanking me back to reality.
With that, my throat tightens, and I loudly swallow. Chest heaving, I cough into my fisted hand, blinking furiously. “Hairball,” I joke, finally managing to catch my breath and gather my wits while I unabashedly take in the delicious piece of man in front of me. It’s time to recover, but I can’t because I spy, with my little watery eye, the most appetizing mouth that I’ve ever seen. A mouth that I long to conquer, invade, and fuck.
“Right, Puss in Boots.” My brother shakes his head, mocking my uncharacteristic reaction. What happened to my assertiveness? I guess he didn’t buy the exaggerated shrug that I was hoping would pass for nonchalance.
“Ha-ha!” I know he got theShrekreference since it’s one of our favorite movies, but it’s embarrassing nonetheless.
