Chapter 108
But how? And more importantly, what would he tell Darian?
Lost in thought, Stacy let the jigsaw slip. The blade hit the work table beneath the plywood, jarring his arm. “Pay attention,” Jennifer growled. “You want me to do it?”
“I want you to shut up,” Stacy muttered. The design he’d been carving was ruined—the jigsaw had snapped through a thin piece of the wood, almost breaking it off. It hung on by only a few scant splinters, nothing more. Turning off the jigsaw, Stacy cursed, “Shit. Look what you made me do.”
“Me?” Jennifer asked, incredulous. “I’m just standing here. You messed it up.”
Before Stacy could reply, a strong hand touched the small of his back, and then Darian’s voice rumbled above him. “What’s going on?”
With a guilty start, Stacy replied, “Nothing.”
Jennifer pointed out the broken plywood. “His mind’s a million miles away.”
“A million miles away from you,” Stacy grumbled under his breath.
Darian leaned past him to inspect the damage. His hand eased along Stacy’s waist, his chest pressed to Stacy’s back, a quick, forbidden touch that was gone too soon. Fingering the cracked filigree, Darian winked at Stacy. “Some carpenter’s glue and a small clamp should fix this right up.”
As he headed to the supply cabinet for the glue, Jennifer yanked the jigsaw out of Stacy’s hands. “Let me cut before you ruin it completely.”
Stacy spent the rest of the class period holding the broken piece in place so the glue could dry. Relieved from the hassle of the jigsaw, he leaned on workbench and stared at a knot in the wooden table, thinking of Ange. He had to see him again, had to talk to him. Of everyone he knew, Stacy was sure Ange would understand about Darian. And he could help Stacy sort things out with Lamar, no doubt about it. And if things got a bit heavy while he was visiting…
Well, he hadn’t had sex in forever, it seemed, and God knew a boy his age couldn’t hold out for long. The next two weeks and the promise of Darian hovered on the horizon like the golden glow from El Dorado, in sight but beyond his reach. A quickie in the middle of the day, a hot body against his, sloppy kisses on his mouth and chest and cock, Ange’s long hardness filling him up within. Stacy shifted from one foot to the other and a burst of desire shot through him when his jeans cut across his budding erection. An hour or so, that’s all it had to be. One last tryst for old time’s sake, before they both moved on. What would it hurt?
When the bell rang, Stacy barely heard it. He stared through the table and envisioned Ange’s slow, steady thrusts, his friend’s slim hands on his hips guiding him as they fucked. Around him the room emptied out but he didn’t care—he was lost in Ange’s touch. If only he had remembered to call the night before. Then he might know when he could swing by without running into Lamar, when they could hook up—
“Earth to Stacy,” Darian breathed into his ear.
Stacy jumped at Darian’s closeness and looked around the empty workshop. “Class is over already?”
Darian nodded. “Did I interrupt something?”
“What?” Stacy straightened up, remembered the bulge at his crotch, and leaned against the table again to hide it. “No, I’m not doing anything.”
Darian looked at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Something in his gaze reminded Stacy of Ange, and the memory of his intimate daydream made him uneasy, as if Darian had caught him cheating or something. How stupid was that? They weren’t even together yet.
In a soft voice, Darian asked, “What’s wrong, Stace?”
The reply came too quickly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then what’s on your mind?”
Stacy shrugged, unable to look Darian in the eye and tell him he was thinking of another man. Of Ange. “Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Stacy,” Darian started, then pulled Jennifer’s stool closer and slid onto it. He waited, probably wanting Stacy to look at him but he didn’t, he couldn’t. Finally Darian sighed, a heavy sound that hurt Stacy’s heart. “Can we talk a moment?”
But when Stacy nodded, Darian hesitated. Thatgot Stacy’s attention—Darian always knew what to say and when to say it; this trepidation wasn’t like him. Releasing the glued woodwork, Stacy reached out across the table and eased his hand into Darian’s. At that touch his mind cleared, and Stacy searched Darian’s face for some clue as to what this was all about. “Darian?” he prompted. “What’s up?”
Darian’s fingers tightened around his. “I know you haven’t had many healthy relationships.”
Stacy grinned. “Try none. You’ll be my first.”
A smile flickered across Darian’s face at Stacy’s suggestive answer. “Here’s the problem, Stace. In a healthy relationship, there are no secrets.” Stacy frowned but Darian held onto his hand, keeping him close. “I mean harmful secrets, things that would hurt the other person if he found out. I’m not saying tell me what you got me for Christmas or anything. But if there’s something bothering you, something on your mind, let me know.”
“Darian—”
“Let me in,” his teacher said, earnest. His other hand caught Stacy’s wrist, his thumb rubbing gentle patterns into Stacy’s skin. When Stacy’s gaze dropped to their hands, Darian ducked to make Stacy look at him again. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing when I know it’s not. You don’t have to hide it from me, whatever it is. Trust me.”
“I do,” Stacy whispered. Emotion swelled within him, a tidal wave that threatened to engulf him, pull him under, leave him gasping for breath. He felt overwhelmed, unworthy of Darian’s attention, his kindness, his love. He had never really trusted Lamar, and once he met Darian, hiding secrets from his ex became almost a game. “I just…” Tears filled his voice and he choked them back. Forcing a laugh, he said, “I trust you.”
Darian smiled warmly, melting Stacy inside. “Then help me trust you. Don’t lie to me. Don’t keep me out. When there’s something you need to talk about, tell me. Okay?”
Stacy nodded. “Okay.” Darian waited, smile in place, and Stacy realized he wanted him to start talking to him now. About Ange? Oh God.Any way he played it out in his mind didn’t end well. His gaze dropped to their entwined hands again, Darian’s skin so dark against his own. Okay. Taking a deep breath, he started, “I have this friend.”
“I figured as much,” Darian murmured. Stacy glanced up sharply but his teacher’s expression hadn’t changed—the smile was still there, the hands still wrapped tightly around his own. “Who is this—Ange?”
In a small voice, Stacy asked, “You know him?”
“You’ve mentioned him.” Squeezing Stacy’s hand, Darian asked, “What about him?”
“I haven’t seen him in weeks,” Stacy admitted. “He and Lamar didn’t really get along well. I don’t know why they were even friends. Lamar was always so damn jealous of him, you know? He’d have a fit if I even mentionedAnge, yet they still hung out and what not. I never really understood what the problem was between them. If I asked Ange, he’d say Lamar was just being a dick. If I asked Lamar, I’d get my ass kicked.”
Darian laughed. “Sounds like a fun bunch.”
“But I like Ange,” Stacy told him. He didn’t say how much, but from the way Darian’s eyes dimmed, he suspected his teacher already knew. Quickly he added, “I just want to tell him I’m all right. I know he’s probably worried about me, and we’ve really drifted apart these past few months, so I’d just like to tell him I’m here. With you. I just want him to know I’m going to be fine.”
For a long moment, Darian didn’t speak. Stacy glanced at him, then quickly looked away—the hurt in Darian’s face was hard to see. He wanted to add something, anything, to make that go away, but nothing came to mind. “If you don’t want me to…”
“No,” Darian said. “I trust you, Stacy. Go see your friend.” Stacy grinned in relief, and Darian laughed. “You need me to give you a lift?”
Stacy shook his head, excitement coursing through him. “He’s on the bus route,” he said, pulling his hand free from Darian’s. He started to untie his woodshop apron, fingers fumbling with the knots. In less than an hour he’d be at Ange’s. Should he call first? Make sure Lamar wasn’t there?
No—Lamar should be at work. It would be just him and Ange, all afternoon. Stepping up to Darian, Stacy planted a quick kiss on his teacher’s cheek, giddy with anticipation. “Thanks,” he whispered. For everything
Darian’s smile slipped, his eyes sad, but he didn’t say anything as Stacy hurried from the woodshop to catch the next bus. In his haste, he left his apron and safety goggles on his worktable, for the first time not bothering to put them away.