Page 72 of Fallen Stars

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tomorrow’s good. Town not far from me has an event for the holiday. Meet in Stone Bay?

Again, they go silent for several minutes. The possibility of catching this prick is worth every brutal blink of the cursor.

hook_n_release_cap

I know the town. Noon. Near the food tents. Wear a fisherman’s cap with a blue ribbon. I’ll find you.

This is really happening. I’m luring this sleazeball in and they are taking the bait.

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got it

I exit the chat and exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.”

Pushing back on my chair, I rise and pace the room. I contemplate telling Tymber the new development but decide it’s best to keep it to myself. For now, at least. He will be at the festival tomorrow. If shit goes sideways, I’ll shoot him a text or flag down one of the officers in attendance.

What I need to do now is call it a day. Sign off, make a quick stop at the bait and tackle shop for a hat, and head home to Oliver.

“Tomorrow, I’ll get this asshole.”

NINETEEN

LEVI

The summer sunwarms my skin as Oliver and I walk hand in hand through the crowd. The scent of fried sugar, salty cheese and grilled meat lingers in the air. Hundreds of residents mingle with countless tourists and chat about the festival’s music itinerary. Pop-up tents offer an array of food, an assortment of drinks, merchandise and information from local small businesses, and endless arts, crafts, and festive entertainment for all ages.

The Fourth of July Festival is Stone Bay’s biggest annual event. To no one’s surprise, the festival is grander than the previous.

People throughout the state flock here for the festivities. Many book rooms at the ski resort or inn or reserve one of several rentals from the Seven and stay in town for several days. The tourism dollars from this week alone total more than any other season. As a thank-you, the town ups the ante each year and adds new festivities for a more memorable experience.

The gates open at nine in the morning and most attendees stay until they shuffle out close to midnight. I’ve never spent the entire day at the festival but plan to today. Were Hailey’s Fire not on the roster today, if I hadn’t made plans to meet up with theschmuck from online, I would’ve convinced Oliver to stay in bed with me all day.

“Hungry?” Oliver gives my hand a gentle squeeze as we approach a long row of food tents.

I shrug. “A little.”

“I need something in my system before we play.” He slows to a stop after a few tents. “Anything look good?”

Staring down the line, I spot a banner for Rosenberg’s Deli and tug Oliver toward the line. “Maybe something light. Don’t need you retching on stage.”

His hand still in mine, we get in line. Oliver twists to face my side and clings to my arm, resting his chin on my shoulder, his gaze raking over my profile. A soft hum vibrates his chest against my arm.

For years, I’ve wanted this with him—a relationship greater than friendship—but part of me wasn’t ready. Painful as it was to hold back my feelings, agonizing as it was to stay silent and wait, I wouldn’t change a single footprint on our journey. Each step we have taken steered us to where we are now.

Although it hurt to hear about Oliver with other people every now and then, although I had my fair share of meaningless sex with random people to quell my urges, those past partners were necessary. Had we given in to our libidinous desire for each other years ago, we might not have lasted.

The moment I met Oliver, I knew he was different than other guy friends. The more we talked, the more I was convinced we’d be more than friends. Still insecure about my sexuality at the time, I had no idea how or when our relationship would shift, but my instincts knew it was inevitable.

Seven years is a long time to conceal your feelings for someone. Seven years is a long time to keep them close without giving in to what you both want. But without those excruciating years, we wouldn’t appreciate each other and what we have now.

“Love you, moje srce,” he whispers before he presses a kiss to the angle of my jaw.

Oliver straightens a beat before we shuffle forward in line. When we stop, I step into him, clasp his chin and lift until his line of sight locks with mine. The tip of my nose caresses the length of his as I haul him closer. My pulse soars, dick aching as his lips part, his breath painting my skin.

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