Page 39 of Street of Dreams
Mac resisted and kept his lips clamped shut. He tried to remove Jake’s hands from his face, but it only made Jake more insistent. Jake pressed his mouth harder against Mac’s and got lost in the kiss until teeth came down on his lip and drew blood. He jumped back and brought his fingertips to his mouth. “What the fuck, Mac?”
“Fuck you, Jake.”
Tired of pretending and emotionally drained, Jake let out an exhausted breath. “You were about to hug me out there. I can’t stress how important it is that no one find out about us. It would be really dangerous, for the both of us, if word got back to my old man. I had to do something. I’m sorry.”
“OK. So, I forgot we were in public. You didn’t have to be such a jerk about it.”
Jake brought his hand to his chest and wished he could take back the words, but it was too late. “I’m sorry. I really am. Do you think I enjoyed saying those things to you? Being so nasty? Because I didn’t. It hurt me too. But you need to pay attention. The lady across the street was outside. Two neighborhood dealers turned the corner and were headed our way. I needed to make a scene. I needed to react the same way I would have . . . before.” Jake rested the palm of his hand on Mac’s cheek. “I know you have every right to be mad. I know I don’t deserve a guy like you. This is hard for me.”
When Mac still didn’t say anything, Jake pushed himself to say the hardest thing he ever had to say in his life. “I love you, Mac. I’ve never said that to anyone. I’ve never loved anyone before. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t know how this works. But I’m trying. I know I’m making a million mistakes, but please remember that no matter how much I fuck up, I’m trying my hardest. And that I love you. I really fucking love you.”
The expression on Mac’s face went blank with surprise for a few seconds, then turned all gooey, and he wrapped his arms around Jake. “I love you too.”
Never expecting the sentiment to be returned, Jake clung to Mac, twisting the back of his T-shirt in his fist. A long slow inhale steadied his wavering breath, and he blinked away the wetness in his eyes. Mac tried to pull back, but Jake needed a minute. He took a few deep breaths, wiped his eyes on Mac’s T-shirt and slowly released his embrace. “You’re my guy, Mac. You’re everything to me. Always have been. Always will be.” He pulled Mac in for a kiss. Not a rough kiss, or one filled with dominance. Just a soft meeting of lips pressed against the others for a very long time. It filled Jake with peace and acceptance, two feelings that were brand new, and he feared this was all a dream. Except, it wasn’t. This incredible man loved him despite all his faults, and he had a shitload of them. “So, we’re OK?” Jake asked. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”
Mac shook his head and presented a small smile. “I’m not mad. I’m happy.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Jake wondered how things would change between them now. He reveled in the idea that they’d grow closer and learn little things about one another that would drive each other crazy, just like regular couples, but he was unsure how that was supposed to happen. “So . . . what now?” he asked, slowly.
“Well . . .” Mac thought about his answer. “This really sweet guy got me a set of seats for my car. Want to help me install them?”
“Yeah. I do.”
It only took about an hour to switch out the seats. They were beautiful, but the rich black leather looked out of place in the middle of its faded and cracked surroundings. “You need a new headliner and door panels, but at least the seats are a start.” Jake bit his lip at the sight of the worn-out carpet. “We should have done the carpet first. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. I’ll pick up some carpet tomorrow, and we’ll re-install the seats. Not a big deal.”
Mac looked at the interior, then at Jake. “How much is this costing you?”
“Not important.” Jake wished Mac didn’t obsess over the price of everything. Sometimes, Jake hated money, mainly because of the way he was forced to earn it.
“I’m going to pay you back,” Mac said. “I mean it. Every dime.”
Jake checked the bolts that secured the front seat to the floor a second time. “Like I said, when you’re a big rock star, you can pay me back.”
“I want you to come to my gig tomorrow night. I told you about it a few weeks ago, remember? It’s not around here. You won’t know anyone there.”
Jake stopped moving the wrench but didn’t look up or respond.
“You’ve never been to one of my shows. Music is my passion, and I want to share it with you.”
This was one of those things that couples shared, and Jake really wanted to go. But the invitation sounded a hell of a lot like a date, and something inside of him told him it was a bad idea. He didn’t want to hurt Mac’s feelings, so he avoided the question and stalled while he figured out how to answer. “Too good to play Street of Dreams anymore?” Jake was still getting used to the idea that this guy loved him and actually wanted to spend time with him. It had his head spinning and his heart running on overdrive. Other than his brothers, he realized that he had no friends. And he kept his personal life a secret from them, which flooded him with guilt. He was on top of the world right now, but the dilemma about going to the show reminded him that his life was still a fucking mess.
Mac had a game plan. An end goal. The only reason Jake looked forward to a new day was because it meant that Ben was one day older and one day closer to turning 18. When that day eventually came, Jake had no real plan other than taking off somewhere far out of his old man’s reach. His thoughts returned to Mac and clung to the fact that the guy was his only friend. The only one who knew his truths and his weaknesses.
“What’s wrong?” Mac asked. “Why are you so quiet?”
Jake continued to tighten the nut with the socket wrench, even though it wasn’t moving. “What’s there to say?”
“Say you’ll come. I go on at eleven. Come early and we’ll have a couple of drinks.”
Jake wanted to go so fucking badly, but he couldn’t take the chance. It was too much of a risk. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“What would people think?”
“Since when do you give a fuck what people think?”
“I don’t,” Jake lied. Everything he did was because of what was expected of him. As a kid, he was never tough enough, and his old man let him know it every chance he got. If Jake fell or got hurt, he couldn’t shed a tear. Because if he did, he’d get smacked across the face for being soft. So, he was forced to hold in his emotions.
