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Shit. Shit. Shit.
I close the browser and take a few deep, calming breaths. My dick is still rock solid, but I can ignore that if I focus on something else. This is exactly why I needed to get away from that house. Get some space to concentrate without the damn scent of coconuts or a view of Gavin’s tight round ass. Or his nearly hairless torso. Or that mouth. Hell, that sinful mouth.
I groan again.
Not helping.
Turning to a different, more specialized computer, I enter Gavin’s personal information to begin my investigation. The results spit out a few minutes later and I flush, feeling guilty for what I find.
Fucking hell.
Chapter 7
Gavin
“Can I just say this is a terrible idea?”
I glance over at Marcus as I pull my shirt over my head and toss it on the sand.
“I heard you the first hundred and fifty times, Marcus,” I reply. “I need this.” Mitch left two days ago and I haven’t heard from him since. Yeah, I could text or call him, but why should I? He’s the one who ran. I’m not going to chase him even if he is the most talented kisser on the face of the earth.
Marcus scowls, squinting in the bright sun.
I glance over at him before looking at the water. “There aren’t that many people here. Unless the guy has scuba gear and attacks me from underwater, I’m confident you’ll see him coming before he can get me.”
Without waiting to hear his reply, I grab my board and jog toward the ocean. Not hesitating, I plunge right in, letting the frigid water of the Pacific envelope my skin and get my heart pumping. As I paddle out, my mind wanders to the conversation I had with my mom this morning. After my discussion with Ellie yesterday, I decided to give my mom a call.
Why, I have no idea. I’m more confused now than I was before I spoke to my mom.
“You sound sad, love. What’s wrong?” My mom’s soothing voice reminds me of when I was a kid and she’d run her fingers through my hair whenever I had trouble falling asleep at night.
“Mom. I’m not sad, just tired.”
“Sweetheart, I know you. It’s more than that. Does it have anything to do with this bloke you’re seeing? And shame on you, by
the way. Letting your own mother find out you have a boyfriend by seeing it on the telly,” she chastises.
I smile. “Mom, he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh tosh, Gavin. I want to meet him. Any man that’s important enough for you to finally be yourself,” I hear my mom sniff over the phone. “Well, I’d like to meet him and say thank you, that’s all.”
Now I’m dumfounded. “You want…” I choke on the words. “You want to come here?”
“Of course, love. Now, I know you’ve never invited me before. I figured it was because you’re such a jet setter, with your band and all that. A young thing like you doesn’t need an old lady hanging around. But if you’re settling down, I’d love to come out for a visit if you’d not mind putting up with me,” she chuckles.
“You…you didn’t think you were invited?”
“Oh Gavin, I know how young people are, all independent and what not. Now you’re almost thirty years old and well, it’s time to find a nice bloke and make a home. I can’t wait to see you, dear.”
“Mom,” I hesitate.
I can’t tell her the truth about Mitch and me. It would break her heart. Plus, just the idea of me having a boyfriend has her ready to pack a bag and fly ten thousand miles to meet him. But, even if I don’t have a boyfriend, I do have a stalker. I refuse to have my mother anywhere near him.
“Mom, I’m still having trouble with the notes. I’ve got a professional looking into them. Why don’t we talk after it’s taken care of and arrange for you to fly out then?”
“Oh love, that would be brilliant.”
Right after that call, my dad left a furious, ranting message about flaunting my ‘faggot ass’ in front of the whole world. How he even knows my phone number is beyond me. I haven’t spoken to the man in years.
