Page 25 of Summer Lessons
Jefferson pulled out his phone and checked the time. “We’ve got about two hours,” he said softly. “Let me go clean up.”
As soon as he was gone from the table, Mason signaled for the waitress to give him the check, and whipped out his phone.
Are you home?he texted Dane.
Just woke up. Why?
Because you need to leave.
FOREVER?
NO—for two hours.
Why?
Because he’s skittish.
So you want to get laid.
Well duh.And I don’t want to scare him off.Mason took a deep breath.He’s not out to his mother.
I’m not his mother,Dane texted stubbornly.I’m two bedrooms down from you—pretend I’m not here.
Mason sighed.Okay—you pretend you’re not here either.
Fine.
“SO YOURhouse is going to be empty?” Jefferson asked as they walked out to their cars.
“Sure,” Mason lied, and Jefferson looked at him sideways. Mason blushed. Again. God, adulthood wasnotwhat it said in the brochures. “My brother is asleep in his room. He’s still recovering from finals.”
Jefferson stopped dead, worrying at his lower lip, and Mason turned toward him, wrapping his arms around Jefferson’s shoulders protectively, the way he’d wanted to do since they’d met up that morning.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured in Jefferson’s ear. “Dane won’t say anything. He just wants to sleep in.”
Jefferson leaned against his chest, rubbing his cheek on Mason’s shirt. “It… I mean, Iamsort of revved up from the game.”
“It’ll be like having sex in a dorm room,” Mason promised. “Everyone would just as soon pretend it didn’t happen.”
Jefferson shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “Tech school,” he said indifferently. “It’s where I met Skipper. I monitor the machines in a string of quickie marts. I’m sort of their tech guy.” He smiled briefly. “Not a dorm room, Mason.”
He shot a look from under his streaked hair, the kind of look that made Mason’s heart sore and a little achy, and Mason caught his chin in front of an IHOP in Carmichael and kissed him.
Jefferson tried to make the kiss greedy, to take everything, like they were going to go at it in the middle of the day behind an IHOP.
Mason pulled back and kept it sweet, ending with a kiss against Jefferson’s temple.
“So, like that?” Jefferson asked, his voice a little broken.
“Yeah,” Mason said. “Like that. C’mon. I’ll drive you and bring you back to your car.”
Jefferson shook his head. “Okay. I guess if you were going to steal away with my body, you’d at least make sure Skipper had another player for the team.”
Mason grinned and kissed him briefly on the lips before backing up and trying not to get the shit beat out of them in a not-exactly-gay-friendly little suburb.
“Anything but pissing Skipper off,” he said gravely.
Jefferson nodded like it was completely reasonable, and they got into Mason’s car.
