From the Ashes (5 page)

Jesse threw his head back. He looked gorgeous, trembling, like he had everything he wanted. His dampness spurt hot and thick between them.

Tomas fucked into the crease of Jesse’s hipbone until he closed his eyes and came so hard his growl felt ripped from his throat.

The world stretched thin as silk while Tomas held his breath. His flesh sang—pulse thrumming in time with Jesse’s. He wished he could hold on to that release, ride that crest for longer, because right on the heels of his climax came the worry.

He flinched—an automatic reaction to being flush against a man. Tomas didn’t mean to do it, but he knew he was pulling away.

“Um…I’m really whooped.” Jesse shifted out from under Tomas, his eyes wary.

“You can have my bed tonight.” Tomas rolled to the side. He knew a wall was coming down between them. He even knew it was his fault. But he didn’t know how to act any differently.

Since he couldn’t think of anything to say to make the situation better, he grabbed a box of tissues off the nightstand and handed them to Jesse.

“Thanks.” Jesse darted his gaze away. He looked like he was waiting for Tomas to make a decision.

“That was great.” Tomas wished he could have come up with something better.

Jesse must not have minded the lame compliment because he gave Tomas a smile. “Oh good. I was scared there for a minute you were going to freak out.” A ghost of something crossed his face. “Worried you might kick me out or something.” He said it like he was joking, but there was real fear in his voice.

“No way.” Tomas leaned over and gave Jesse a kiss.

“Good.” Jesse snuggled into the bed, relaxing like a sated cat. With his eyes closed, he said, “But I swear, I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

Tomas paced his living room, drinking the last of his beer. On the TV screen, trucks flipped and exploded, and the newer Terminator with the melting body parts was using his hands as fish hooks, but Tomas was too wired to watch the movie.

Chardonnay slept against his back door, her fur visible through the glass. Flipping in her sleep, she whimpered—making Tomas feel like even more of an asshole than he already did.

“C’mon in. Before my mom sees.” Tomas opened the door.

The dog padded inside, sniffing every surface. Tomas grabbed her by the neck and shoved her into his bedroom.

“You…” he held up a finger to the dog, “…sleep on the floor.” Tomas pointed, and when Chardonnay just looked up at him with her big, brown eyes, he pushed her rump down, and then her shoulders. “Like this,” he whispered. “Lie on the ground.”

He suspected the dog would be in his bed by morning and that he’d have to hide the evidence by stripping his sheets before his mother had the chance. But it was worth it because Jesse rolled over and hung his hand over the side of the bed. Snoring, he reached for Chardonnay’s head.

She lifted her giant skull for Jesse to pet.

Jesse let out a contented moan and buried his face in Tomas’s pillow. His shoulders were narrow and freckled, and the upper part of his back was pink, like he was still turned on enough to be flushed.

Leaning closer, Tomas breathed the smell of Jesse’s hair.

Even though Jesse was sleeping, Tomas told him, “You can stay as long as you want.”

Chapter Four

“Are you sure I should leave her?” Jesse looked over his shoulder, staring guiltily at the gate to Tomas’s backyard. “Your mom won’t mind?”

“Nah.” Tomas put both hands on the steering wheel to back out of the driveway. “She doesn’t care so long as Char’s not in the house.”

“Really?” Jesse wished he could see over the fence and make sure Char wasn’t feeling abandoned, though he wasn’t sure what
abandonment
would look like on a dog’s face. “Maybe I should just bring her.”

“You need to take the bus once we’re in the city, right?” Tomas touched Jesse’s leg. He’d been doing things like that all morning, being physically affectionate enough that Jesse wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Well, yeah. I need to get from the fire station to UW. It’s walking distance from school to the place I work. But…” Tomas was right about leaving Char. It was one thing to ask a landlord, “Do you take dogs?” and another thing entirely to have said dog right there, slobbering and pacing and still dirty, since they hadn’t had time yet to give her a bath.

“You’re welcome to stay over tonight too.” Tomas kept his eyes on the road with more focus than was necessary on the wide, straight highway. “Or, y’know, longer.”

Traffic hummed on the crowded highway, but when they pulled off in the city, Tomas stopped to pick up coffee.

Jesse normally drank coffee from the place he worked, so there was something decadent about buying it elsewhere. They held their paper cups, driving through the sleepy morning streets.

“Let me drop you off in the University District,” Tomas said.

Jesse sighed. “You don’t have to do that.” Tomas had mentioned needing to stop by the firehouse, even though he was off work for the next two days, and Jesse didn’t want to take him out of his way.

He didn’t know how many good deeds Tomas would grant him before Tomas’s well of kindness dried up.

“The registrar isn’t open until nine, and my boss doesn’t come into the shop until after ten.” Jesse wished like hell that he’d tried harder to get a job at Starbucks. A big company like that would have some kind of employee insurance or emergency fund. But Speedy Coffee was a small operation, with a staff of only three and an owner who worked shifts herself. He might be able to get a pay advance from her, but he wouldn’t be able to get the kind of money he needed to rent a new place.

“Well, okay. But you have my number. I’ll pick you up later if you don’t find a place to stay for tonight.” Tomas darted him a stern glance.

“And Chardonnay?” Jesse hated using the dog as an excuse to keep in touch with Tomas. But, sadly, he was doing exactly that.

“I can bring her to you tomorrow.” Tomas pulled into the parking lot next to the fire station. He met Jesse’s eyes. “Call me later.” He said it like a demand, not a request.

Jesse shivered. “Yeah. It shouldn’t take too long to get everything settled and buy a few clothes.” He got out of the truck, considering what else he needed to do that day. “I hope I can look at a couple rooms, but that all depends on whether any of these guys call me back.” Jesse pulled out his phone and checked for messages. There were none.

On his side, Tomas hopped out. He came to where Jesse was standing and glanced at Jesse’s hand like he wanted to hold it. “You can stay over again tonight. I won’t expect anything. Don’t get yourself in a bad situation. Promise me.”

Again a demand. Not a request.

“Fine. Okay.” Jesse tried to sound hesitant, but really he was relieved. “If you want.”

“Good.” Tomas licked his lips. Maybe he would kiss Jesse goodbye.

Jesse tilted his head in invitation.

Someone pulled into the parking lot. Tomas took a step back, putting distance between them.

Jesse scratched his nose to hide his frown. He wasn’t hurt. At least that’s what he told himself. “Well, see ya later.” Jesse hitched his backpack on his shoulder and hurried to catch the bus.

The registrar was at least sixty years old and losing her hair. Her sour expression made it clear that she hated college kids with every fiber of her being. “You want to do what?”

“Well…” Jesse cleared his throat. “I just wanted to know if I can get a partial refund if I withdraw from my classes. I mean…” Her stare was so intense he struggled to spit out the words. “I know it’s past the drop date. But I had a house fire yesterday. And I need the money.”

He hated how small he felt asking. Other students filled the chairs in the waiting area behind him, probably thinking he sounded like a homeless person asking for his college money back. Then again, technically he
was
a homeless person.

“Refunds are impossible after the third week of classes. The only option available this late is to withdraw from classes without a grade. But then you won’t be eligible for financial aid until next year.”

“What?” Jesse sucked in air like he’d been punched. Sure, dropping classes would allow him to work more. He could get a second job and save up for a deposit on a new place to live. But he’d worked his ass off to save enough money for his first quarter. “I know tuition was due a while ago, but—”

“If you file an appeal, and it’s accepted, you may be able to get financial aid again next quarter, but I can’t promise anything.” She pushed some papers across her desk.

“If?” Sick to his stomach, Jesse took the forms and folded them into the backpack Tomas had loaned him. “I guess I’ll fill these out, then.” With no other options, he zipped up his bag and left before he broke down.

Jesse didn’t know the guy working at Speedy Coffee that morning, and seeing him made Jesse worry Sharon had found a replacement for him already.

The new guy didn’t seem too happy about working the morning shift. A little shorter than Jesse, he was skinny enough to be gaunt. His eyes had dark circles underneath. Despite his frown, he didn’t walk—he sashayed in an over-the-top way that made Jesse think the guy was doing it on purpose.

College students crowded the counter so the line stretched out the door. The smell of roasted beans hung thick in the air.

At the back of the long, narrow shop, Jesse grabbed an apron off one of the hooks. He walked up behind the replacement barista, hoping not to get an elbow in the face as the guy spun to pull another shot of espresso.

“You want me to handle drinks for a while?” Jesse asked.

The guy blinked, surprised to see Jesse standing there. “Who the fuck are you?” He had a hint of a French accent.

It was a good thing the customer standing at the register was a punky girl with pink hair and a nose ring who didn’t look like she cared whether the baristas cursed.

“I’m Jesse. I normally work the opening shift.” He took the empty cup out of the guy’s hand and read the order scrawled on the outside. The handwriting was atrocious, so Jesse asked, “Double, short, no-whip mocha with two-percent, right?”

Swishy Guy crossed his arms and gave him an assessing nod. “Yeah. That’s right.” He turned back to the cash register to take the customer’s money. “So you’re the bastard who called in sick?” His rueful smile made the words less harsh than they might have sounded. “I can’t believe I let Sharon talk me into this.”

“I had a house fire yesterday,” Jesse mumbled. He felt weird telling this guy he’d never met his problems. On the other hand, he didn’t want Swishy to think he’d ditched work lightly.

“Really?” The guy turned around, ignoring the customer at the front of the line who was holding out his credit card. “Oh my God. What happened?”

“My landlords started it.” Jesse’s face heated. “They lived downstairs, so the fire rose…”

The guy at the head of the line sheepishly pulled his credit card back to his belly.

“That’s horrible.” Jesse’s replacement leaned in to give Jesse a kiss on the cheek and an awkward half-hug.

“Yeah.” Jesse shrugged, trying to show he was okay. “Lost everything. Spent the night down in SeaTac.”

Swishy Guy spun around and called over the heads of the crowd, “Hey, everyone?” His voice had a smooth, clear quality that carried out the door. “Jesse here—he works mornings—he lost everything in a fire yesterday. All his clothes, his furniture. Everything.”

Jesse tried not to smile. Swishy Guy was making the whole thing sound extremely dramatic. The guy had a voice for a telethon, or one of those sad, late-night infomercials.

“All your tips this morning are going to help get Jesse back on his feet.” He held up the tip jar and did something Jesse couldn’t believe. Swishy Guy, who Jesse still didn’t know the name of, reached into his own back pocket and pulled out a few bills. He dropped his money into the tip jar, as if to show everyone in line what they were expected to do.

Oh, God.
Jesse put a hand in front of his face, hiding the tears that filled his eyes. Shit, he thought he was done getting emotional, but as he watched the guy at the head of the line digging through his pockets for money, and saw the girl behind him doing the same, Jesse couldn’t believe he’d ever felt alone in the big city.

“Well, shit. I still need you to pull coffee.” Swishy Guy pointed to two paper cups he’d lined up next to the espresso maker. “I’m Henri, by the way.”

“Nice meeting you. This your first day?” Jesse hoped not. He needed all his shifts.

Henri yawned as he wrote another drink order on a cup. “Nope.” He plucked a couple muffins and a bagel out of the case under the counter and handed them to a customer. “I used to work here over the summer, but I was the only person programmed in her phone Sharon could talk into taking the shift.”

“Oh. So, um…you can work in the U.S., then?” Jesse didn’t want to come right out and ask Henri where he was from, but he was curious.

“Oh yeah. Of course.” He flitted his hand like he was shooing a fly. “I’ve lived here since I was nine. I have a green card.”

Jesse went back to work. Manning the espresso machine was like meditation. Yank the filter into place, press a button, jerk it free, dump the grinds. Rinse, pour, repeat.