“I want to suck you off in nothing but that shirt and then go drink whiskey at Big Top with your taste on my tongue.”
Happy birthday to me.I scramble out of my jeans.
“Yes, Mr. Baardwijk.”
“Good boy.”
19
Byrd
He’s too quiet on the drive to the tent, turning his new keychain over in his fingers and staring out the window. I’ve grown so used to his eyes on me as I drive—the scorching look that makes me want to unbutton my pants and press his head into my lap.
I keep seeing his face when I gave him the key—confusion, surprise, hurt.Too much. I should have taken it back. Let him keep the keychain without the symbol of future obligation.
But he was wearing my shirt, mutilated into something so sublimelyEchothat I couldn’t think straight. And his cock in my mouth was as eager as ever, his incandescent skin pliant under my hands, and all the familiar, delectable little noises coming from his throat letting me believe I’d done something right.
What twenty-one-year-old guy doesn’t like having his dick sucked, idiot?
He likes having his dick sucked byme.
Then why is he so quiet now?
I don’t know.
Something’s wrong. Ask him.
Something’s wrong. I’m afraid.
I pull into the lot without saying a word.
Only a week until they leave for tour, and the Big Top clearing is packed with trucks and trailers, the full crew ready to roll out. They’ve left tearing down the tent until the last minute for rehearsals, but also for Echo’s party, and tonight they’ve done it up with its crown of Edison bulbs, and someone—probably Milla—is blasting pop music from the sound system.
Josha greets us, leaning on an overturned barrel by the door.
“Are you the bouncer?” Echo teases. “Need to check my ID?”
Josha grins and punches Echo’s shoulder, but his eyes stray to the steps of the ticket wagon, where a dark-haired young man in a leather jacket is smoking a joint with one of the hand balancers.
“Gem’s home?” I ask, surprised. “I thought he was staying in Montreal this summer.”
“He was,” Josha says, “but Shilo talked him into coming back for opening week. He’s only here until Sunday.”
“She still hoping to coax him back to Big Top after all this time?”
“She keeps trying.”
“Talking about me and my wayward prodigal?” Shilo appears, joining us in a wash of light and noise as she steps through the tent flap. “One year, that’s all I’m asking. One year with my whole family together in this thing we built. Then Gem can go off and join Cirque if that’s still what he wants.”
“You can’t keep him from following his own path, Shi,” I admonish.No matter how much it hurts to let them go.“You know what it did to me.”
She scowls and opens her mouth, but Echo, sensing the old argument, interrupts.
“Do I get to meet this prodigal son of yours, or are you worried I’ll corrupt him?”
“Ha. Good luck with that.” She waves Gem over, calling his name.
Josha grabs his ever-present flannel from the barrel and ducks inside the tent as Gem approaches.