Page 87 of Point of Contact

Trevor nodded.

“I’m gonna shower, and then I promised you a motorcycle tour of the island, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“I’ll meet you on the porch in thirty minutes.” Picking up the wine bottle and empty glasses, Jesse jogged toward the cabin. Trevor followed more slowly, not even trying to hold back his smile.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next several hours were both pleasure and torture. Pleasure because sitting behind Jesse on the motorcycle, pressed up close to his back, his arms wound tightly around Jesse’s waist, made Trevor’s body thrum with arousal. And torture because he couldn’t do anything about it. Every time Jesse took his helmet off and grinned, all Trevor wanted to do was pull him close and kiss him senseless.

One brief taste wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough.

They stopped often—to watch the Hawaiian monk seals sunning themselves in a secluded cove, another time enjoying a shave ice at one of the many stands they encountered along the way.

They strolled the beach at Waimanalo, which Jesse said had been a favorite of his and Riley’s, and for lunch Jesse treated Trevor to a plate of loco moco. Trevor looked dubiously at the rice and hamburger patty, everything smothered in brown gravy and topped with an egg.

“I can feel my arteries hardening from here,” he said. “At my age that’s a concern, you know.”

Jesse laughed. “Eat up, O Ancient One, and if you finish every bite, I’ll let you have a nap.”

“A nap actually sounds pretty good,” Trevor admitted, then said with a leer, “How about you nap with me?”

He held his breath, waiting for Jesse’s response.

“Hmm.” Jesse looked at him through his eyelashes. “They do say sex is good cardio, right? Really good for those hardening arteries.”

“That they do. And I don’t think my ‘artery’ has ever been so hard in my entire life. Just saying.”

Groaning under his breath, Jesse muttered, “Damn, you’re killing me, Trev.”

The rest of the day flew by. They stopped at the Dole Pineapple Plantation to wander through the world’s largest maze, stealing brief kisses every now and then as they walked. Everything Jesse did seemed unbearably erotic, from running his hand through his hair to licking his lips clean of the pineapple juice that dripped off his chin when he bit into a sample.

They were browsing the gift shop when suddenly Jesse gave a muffled exclamation. “I just remembered! He bought you something here!”

Grabbing Trevor’s hand, he led him over to a rotating rack full of logo keychains. He twirled the rack, making the metal keychains clink wildly, until he found the one he was looking for. “This is it.” Pulling it off its hook, he handed it to Trevor. “The one he bought you is in that box of stuff I gave you.”

Trevor held the keychain in his palm, looking down at a pineapple with arms and legs, and a huge grinning face topped with tall, spiky green hair. The T-shirt it was wearing said “Dad” in big red letters.

“He liked its hair.” Jesse shook his head. “I teased him about it ’cause it’s so fucking cheesy.”

A warm nostalgia spread through Trevor. “It’s an inside joke. When he was fourteen or so, he insisted on dying his hair green, said ‘everyone’ was doing it for the summer camp they were going to. I told him I’d take him to a professional stylist to have it done, but instead he had a friend do it—a friend who left the pre-bleach on too long and ended up frying his hair. You could literally break pieces of his hair off in your hand, but by god, it was green!” He curled his fingers around the keychain, gripping it hard before hanging it back up. “I haven’t thought about that in years.”

He noticed Jesse was watching him closely, so he said reassuringly, “I’m okay. It’s a happy memory, and there really can’t be enough of those. It makes me feel good to know he was thinking of me.”

Jesse patted his shoulder, letting his thumb linger along Trevor’s collarbone for a moment. “We should get going if we’re gonna make that luau I wanted to take you to.”

As they sped along the highway, Trevor slipped his hand inside Jesse’s leather jacket, spreading his palm over his chest to feel his strong heartbeat, his other arm wrapped tightly around Jesse’s trim waist. Trevor pressed as close as he could to his warmth, and Jesse let go of the handlebar long enough to squeeze Trevor’s knee in response.

The luau was held along the edge of a breathtakingly beautiful lagoon, and Trevor and Jesse parked the motorcycle before joining the throngs lining up to go in. Bus after bus pulled up, disgorging revelers clutching cameras and sometimes small children, the whole thing a colorful cacophony punctuated by excited chatter.

“Wow, what a production,” Trevor said, and Jesse chuckled.

“Party buses from all the major resorts. That’s how we came out here, and Riley was so pissed he couldn’t drink.”

Trevor laughed. “Oh my God, I bet. You should’ve seen him beg me for that keg for the party.” He shook his head at the memory. “I still can’t believe I agreed to that.”

“Everyone thought you were cool as hell. If you’ve ever craved the approval of a bunch of idiotic Army grunts, well, there you go. You had it.”