rock (19 page)

I shake my head, grinning.

“What I didn’t tell the class was that I lost my pants in the process and came out butt naked.” Jace winces and takes another sip. “I’ll never live it down.”

“That’s a good one.”

“What about you?” he asks. “Any embarrassing stories?”

I shrug. What the hell. “My ex and I went bungee jumping at the Kawarau Bridge near Queenstown last year.”

“Bungee jumping. You’re crazy.”

“When you’re on the bridge, they ask if you want to touch the water. I didn’t have a change of clothes with me so I said I’d like to touch it but not get dunked. They fiddled about with the ropes until it was my turn. I freaked out for a few moments then jumped. I crashed through the surface of the water and bounced back out. The rush was so intense that I didn’t immediately notice something was off. But as the bounces slowed, I became aware of cold air on my butt and . . . that’s when I noticed the water had pushed my shorts around my thighs and I was flashing the world.”

Jace snorts and slaps the kitchen bench. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Worst is they videotaped it and tried to sell us the memory.”

“Oh, God, please say you bought it!”

“Are you kidding?”

He laughs harder. We share a couple more experiences we’d rather forget, and Jace excuses himself to the bathroom. When he comes back, he’s carrying a plate of chocolate-lava cake and two forks. “Love chocolate,” he says. “Couldn’t miss this. Want some?”

I take the offered fork and we dig in.

“Did you come here with someone?” Jace asks with a token glance at the guests.

“No. Single. You?” I hold a forkful of cake to my lips.

“Me too.”

I eat the cake and hold his gaze longer than before. He rests his fork on the plate and I follow suit. I pick at my shirt and undo a button. “It’s stuffy in here. You want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.”

I lead him outside through a gap in the trellises. When we hit the fringe of the bush, he stops and looks at me.

“This way,” I say warmly.

Fern leaves comb our sides as we trek down the dark trail. Our steps make a dull clumping sound on the packed-dirt path.

Jace hesitates, and I pause with him. His mask reflects the strands of moonlight filtering through the trees. I can’t be sure but I think a grin is pulling at his lips. “You can’t expect me to follow you out into the bush in the middle of the night!”

The words stir an earlier memory—I think they were meant to. “And yet, here you are.”

He follows me around the bend toward the babbling creek. If I listen closely enough, I think I’ll hear our story being told to us.

Outside the cave, I stop. “We have to whisper now. Come.”

He’s close behind me as we move into the cave. For a moment, I linger in his warmth and observe his slow, sweet smile.

The glowworms seem brighter than ever. Maybe they’re celebrating our return. “Been a long time since I’ve been out here.”

“How long?” he whispers.

“Years.”

I try to count the hundreds of pearly-green lights but like always, I don’t finish.

Jace turns and walks out.

I leave a few moments after him. He’s standing at the creek, touching his mask as if considering lifting it. He drops his hand. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“Want to head back?”

He nods.

When we get back to the garden, we veer toward the nook at the end and sit on the bench dusted with real spider webs. The cool wood bites through my shirt.

I pull the hourglass stone from my pocket. Jace is watching me, so I hand it over to him. “I got this today.”

His voice is on the cusp of breaking. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “It could be anything.”

“What do you think it is?”

“An apology. Or maybe someone misses me as much as I miss him.”

His breath hitches.

I continue, “But I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because the guy who gave this to me broke my heart. I’ve thought about him and missed him every day for five years. Every single day.”

“Maybe it’s the same for him?” He’s staring at the stone in his hand.

“Maybe.”

“Were you close?” He fiddles with the stone, not lifting his gaze to me.

“We used to hang out as kids in the cave.”

His eyes close. I pluck the stone from his warm hands and slide it back into my pocket. “It’s cold, let’s get back to the reception.”

Back inside, we sidle up to the bar and order two more whiskeys. It fuels the nervous flare in my belly and shoots shivers to the tips of my fingers and toes. The mask is heavy against my nose and I adjust it.

“I like it,” he says. “Your mask.”

I laugh. “I hope that’s not all you like.”

“No.”

The direct response sobers me.

Ice numbs my hand where I clutch my glass. I sip, staring at the wait staff as they rush to pour drinks and clean spills.

His gaze burns the side of my face like the whiskey burns my throat.

“What are you thinking about, Wesley?”

He holds out a hand. “Would you like to dance, Mr. Son of the Groom?”

My breath catches. “Call me Cooper.”

He wraps his warm hand around my iced one and leads me to the dance floor.

Tens of couples are waltzing. Among them, Annie and Ernie are sharing a tender kiss. Lila and Dad are at the sidelines pointing at people’s feet and discussing something
.

Jace tugs my arm just enough to turn me. He slides closer, placing his right hand on my waist toward my back. I set my hand on his shoulder. He steps forward into a simple waltz and falters. “Sorry, did you want to lead?”

“I don’t mind. I’m versatile.”

His lips twitch. “Me too but if you prefer—”

“Lead. Please.”

His steps are confident but his eyes hold a vacant sheen.

The first song ends and the next starts. I squeeze his shoulder. “You know the guy I told you about?”

“The one who you think gave you the stone?”

I don’t step back as far on the next beat, drawing us an inch closer. “The one I
know
gave me the stone.”

“What about him?” His words hit my neck and tunnel under my collar.

“He’s a musician. A brilliant musician.”

His grip tenses. “Is he?”

“Yes. You might have heard him play and sing with my sister earlier.”

“I’d hardly call the performance brilliant.”

I smile. “He plays as an accompaniment to operas, ballet, and modern dance. Even had an appearance with the Dunedin orchestra.”

“Just classical stuff? Sounds pretentious.”

“He’s not though. He makes crowds cry. Makes them roar for more.”

He blinks. “Is that right?”

“Yes. I know. I’ve been to every concert he’s ever done.”

He misses a step. “Sorry, I—”

“You okay?”

He holds my gaze then steers me back into the waltz. His tender touch prickles my skin with goosebumps. “Why would you see his concerts if he broke your heart?”

“He means too much to me not to witness his successes.”

“You saw all of them?”

“Yes.” I whisper at his ear. “And they were brilliant.”

He shivers and presses us closer with each step. “That’s amazing of you.”

“Do you think he would have minded if he knew I was there?”

“I think he’d have been touched. I imagine he wishes he’d invited you in the first place.”

“But he didn’t.”

“The guy is a fool.”

“I wonder if he’s changed but doesn’t know how to tell me?”

“Can he be both a fool and have changed?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe he’s between the two—no longer a fool because he knows what he’s done wrong, but he hasn’t quite figured out how to change either.”

“Do you think he eventually will?”

Jace shrugs.

Lila and Dad are scaring half the dancers with their awkward steps. The song winds down, and I pull out of Jace’s grasp. “Another drink, Wesley?”

“Please.”

“I’ll grab them and we can go somewhere quiet. Sound good?”

His Adam’s apple juts as he swallows and nods.

When I come back with two whiskeys, I lead him upstairs to the balcony. The music rises faintly from below but otherwise it’s quiet.

We huddle together in the fresh breeze, our drinks resting on the flat wooden edge of the railing. The bush we walked through is a dark silhouette against a star-spotted sky.

“I think you might be right.”

“What’s that?”

“My guy isn’t really mine right now.” I face him and he mirrors me. “I’m glad I met you tonight, Wesley.”

His gaze runs over my mask to my nose and lingers on my mouth. “You are?”

I draw closer. “Perhaps you can help me show my man what he’s missing.”

His breath catches and his gaze flickers to mine. “What did you have in mind?”

“If we were”—I slide my hands down his hips and draw us together until our hard groins meet—“to get close like this.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Maybe we could make him jealous of you.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I had a wonderful night with this incredibly hot guy named Wesley, friend of the bride—”

He kisses me. Our masks and noses bump, and his lips press firmly against mine, sucking in my bottom lip. His arms draw tight around me and I moan into the kiss, deepening it with my tongue. I press my groin against his and lightly thrust while I cup the back of his neck and massage him closer.

He shifts, his thigh slipping between mine, and suddenly I’m passionately shoved against the railing and one of our glasses falls and cracks on the grass below. “God, you’re beautiful,” he says, rubbing his nose against mine and staring into my eyes before resuming our kiss. “But I can’t do this,” he says as his kisses trail over my jaw and under my ear. “I can’t. It’s not fair to you.”

“Of course you can, Wesley,” I say. “You’re just a one-night stand. I know not to expect you in the morning.”

“That’s not right,” he says again, but his hands explore my back and he holds me so close his heart hammers against my chest.

“Please don’t stop,” I whisper.

“Cooper—”

“Please.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, like he’s trying with every ounce of restraint to pull back but he can’t. His warm lips crush against mine once more and his fingers tickle as he drags them up my neck to thread into my hair.

A cool breeze hits my back, and with it, I push us back to the balcony door and through to my bedroom.

The lights are off and it’s dark, but we stumble to my bed, kick off our shoes and yank down our pants while locked in kisses. The heat of his hard cock nudges mine, and the length of his thigh presses warmly between my legs. I thrust against him, eliciting an animalistic groan.

His fingers are trembling just as mine are as we fumble to undo the buttons on each other’s shirts. His comes off first and drops to the floor.

Jace rearranges his cock so it’s between my thighs, rubbing lightly at my balls. He finishes the last button and sweeps his hands over my shoulders and down my arms until my shirt hits his. His full length is against mine, everything hot save the cool bite of his greenstone hook jammed between our chests.

I maneuver us to my side table where I pull out supplies. I’m aching to have him inside me, and I make quick work of rolling on the condom and lathering him with lube. I poured too much on my hand and Jace scoops some up on his fingers as he takes my cock in his hand and strokes me lovingly.

His lube-laced fingers draw over my balls and press tantalizingly against my entrance. I want—need—more. I lie lengthwise on the bed and Jace crawls on top of me. His hand gently probes my ring as he kisses and suckles my nipple. His mask scratches the top of my shoulder, reminding me to bite down on crying out his name.

This is Wesley. Tonight, he’s Wesley.

No, he’s not.

Now who’s the fool?

“Please,” I say, after he’s thoroughly worked me with his fingers.

He kisses a path up my stomach to my chin, and the hook bumps along my skin with them.

I grip his cock, angling it at my entrance. He sucks in a pant and kisses me hard.

“Please,” I say again as the head of his cock pushes into me. “All I want is you.”

He slides all the way in and I grab his hips as I arch against him. He stills and presses his forehead against my ear, his harsh breath tickling my neck. “Cooper.”

I swallow the rise of emotion and focus on how full I feel, how my cock is rubbing against his skin, how my toes are curling, the way the silky bed sheets feel against the back of my thighs.