The Drifter by A.M. Arthur

Author:A.M. Arthur [Arthur, A.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Briggs-King Books
Published: 2018-02-11T23:00:00+00:00

The other bed was empty when we woke on Valentine’s Day. It hadn’t even been slept in, because no twenty-one-year-old could fold corners like that. Kyle didn’t seem concerned, though, because he tugged me into the bathroom for a shared shower. Even with the door open, he was like his old, pre-Halloween self. All smiles and easy touches, and after we jerked each other to completion, we took turns washing the other guy, taking care with certain places, sharing this moment as if it was our first.

I may have shoved him against the shower wall and kissed him until we were both breathless and half-hard again, but we had a long drive left to get us home. Plenty of time to fool around in our house later. We bypassed the hotel’s continental breakfast on our way out, and neither of us were surprised to find Eric lounging on the Charger’s trunk. He tossed a lazy smile our way, and I don’t know how he wasn’t cold without a coat, but the temperature didn’t seem to bother him.

“You guys look self-satisfied,” Eric said as he slid off the trunk.

“Had a good night,” Kyle replied. “You?”

“Can’t complain. Does that mean you guys are going to be okay?”

Kyle and I exchanged big grins. “Yeah, we’re okay,” I said. We clasped hands, and I raised his so I could kiss his knuckles. “Best we’ve been in a while.”

Eric smiled. “Then I’m happy for you guys. I mean it. And Happy V-Day.”

“You too.”

We hit takeout fast food for breakfast on our way through Knoxville, and then snagged I-81 North toward Virginia. The last stretch before home. Eric didn’t elaborate on where he’d spent the night, but the kid was in great spirits, so I didn’t worry too much about it. Even Kyle whistled along to the radio, as relaxed as I’d seen him since we met. Last night, he’d unburdened himself of a huge secret, trusting me to help him carry it, and it showed in this new, happier version of my boyfriend.

Lunch was takeout, too, and Kyle ate his chicken strips while he drove, as if he didn’t have time to stop for thirty minutes to enjoy a simple meal. He simply needed to be home. And I’d help him take this car apart, piece by piece, if that’s truly what he wanted. Now that I understood the car’s evil, I’d make sure it died the death Kyle wanted.

When the first signs for Winchester, Virginia, flashed on the side of the highway, the air in the car sharpened with anticipation. Kyle and I were nearly home, and Eric was closer to the last leg of his thirteen-hundred-mile journey to a new life. And then Kyle took the exit to 7-East toward Leesburg, and I squeezed his thigh. He winked.

The whole drive, none of us discussed how Eric would get from Leesburg to Lovettsville. I half-expected Kyle to offer him a ride, because it was only about twenty miles farther north, so I was a bit shocked when Kyle made the turn onto our road.

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