Page 56 of Summer Lessons
“That’s traveling snail style,” Mason muttered. “You’re taking the whole world with you. I sort of want to backpack through Europe one day. I mean, I speak some French—”
“I speak Spanish pretty good,” Terry said brightly.
Mason looked at him adoringly. “That’s amazing. I only speak a little bit of French from school. I was never very good at it.”
“Well, I took it in high school, but I work with a lot of guys who speak it. It’s probably not, you know, Spain Spanish, but I can get us to the bathrooms, right?”
“Totally necessary,” Mason agreed, taking a chip. “That’s what I know too. So we’re set. Trip to Europe, a definite possibility.” His mouth went dry as he suddenly thought of a more attainable goal. “After you come home with me on Saturday and spend the night.”
Terry turned his head sideways from his sandwich. “Would you really take me to Europe? I’m not….” His gaze swiveled around the office again. “Uh, European.”
Mason reached out with a napkin and got a dollop of cream cheese from the corner of Terry’s mouth. Terry caught hold of his hand and met his eyes.
“I think we could be European together,” Mason said through a dry throat.
“I’m not rich, Mason,” Terry said after a charged moment. “I thought it was just money, but the more we do this, the more I’m getting it. It’s the good health insurance and an office that looks too good to let me in it and a secretary who looks like she’d peck my eyes out if I moved wrong. I… you were nice. You were funny. You were a big, goofy moron on the soccer field and I just….” He dropped Mason’s hand. “I wanted you. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“I did,” Mason told him, his heart crumbling. “I knew what you were doing. You think I’m funny. Nobody thinks I’m funny, Terry. I’ve got a long, disappointing history of guys who begged me to shut up before they had to admit they knew me. You think I’m nice. I… I know a lot of guys who wouldn’t even put that on their list of things to care about. I wanted you too. I mean….” Oh, how embarrassing, to talk about talking about sex. “I want to talk about sex all the time. I want tohavesex—with you!—all the time. And… nobody—I meannobody—I’ve ever met actually made that a priority. You gave me a blow job when I was recovering from a doctor’s visit. It was exactly what I needed. Not one guy has ever given me exactly what I needed without stealing my wallet when he was done.”
Terry’s eyes widened. “True story?”
“Sadly yes. But you’re missing the point.”
“The point is if I can’t get away from my mother to make love in a bed, I’m not much of a catch,” Terry said practically. “So yeah. I’ll stay the night. I’ll leave early to clear her out, and then you and the soccer team can come and help me with my stupid bullshit house thing.”
Mason’s heart stopped crumbling and started beating again. “That is the best plan I’ve ever heard.”
Terry took a swig of his soda. “I can see why you needed to move here,” he said after a minute. “Those people where you lived, they were probably all right folks. But they weren’t yours.”
“No,” Mason said, blinking rapidly. “You’re my people.”
“Yup. Wanna bite? I promise I won’t kick you outta bed for being fat.” He held out his sandwich, and Mason took a salty dreamy bite of heaven.
“Mm….”
“Here. Let’s trade halves. I got you my second-favorite one, so that’ll work.”
They did, and when their gourmet lunch was once again situated on white butcher paper, Mason grinned at him. “Best lunch ever,” he said, meaning it.
Terry glanced at him shyly and looked away. “Yeah. I should bring you lunch more often. Fridays good?”
“Fridays great.”
Oh God. Fridays great. He had a standing lunch date. For a brief shining sandwich, Mason was as happy as he’d been as a kid, when all of sex loomed ahead of him and the grown-up world held untold promise of glory.
Sexy Saturday
“DANE, YOUneed to get up,” Mason said patiently.
“Ma-son!” Dane huddled deeper into the blankets.
“Dane, man, we’re going to miss the game. It starts at ten.”
“Go without me,” Dane whined, pulling the covers over his head. “Nobody will miss me.”
Mason scowled. Uh-oh. “Carpenter will miss you,” he said, hating himself for using Carpenter when he might be rancid bait.
“Carpenter can’t be there,” Dane mumbled. “His sister is in town, and he has to go spend the day with her kids.”
