We left the motel in the mid afternoon and I couldn't help but smile the whole way back to the house.
"You're gonna have to wipe that grin off your face before we go in." Nick said as we pulled up the drive, though he wasn't doing much better.
"I think I'm gonna need a shower too." I took a whiff of myself. "I stink of you." He leaned in and kissed me.
"Is that so bad?" I felt hot all over again. I wanted to jump into his lap and have him do me right there on the immaculate upholstery.
"I guess not." I kissed him back and his hands were on my body again, strong and searching, groping me through my clothes. I'm not sure how far things would have gone, but we were interrupted by the sound of another car appearing at the end of the drive. We broke apart and I looked back to see Henry and Jim pulling up in Karen. Nick and I straightened our clothes before getting out the greet them.
"Hey guys. Busy day?" Henry said as he and Jim lifted some boxes from the back seat of his car. Nick and I exchanged a quick look.
"Sure was." Said Nick, popping the trunk of the Charger. He handed me a few bags. "Gareth has been showing me the sights." He winked at me. Henry laughed.
"Bet that took all of five minutes." He hefted the boxes up the steps to the front door, struggling with the handle. I headed over to help him.
"Actually there's a new pothole on Main Street that is quite impressive." I opened the door and followed him inside, Nick and Jim close behind us. Henry laughed.
"Yeah I think Karen might have run over that one earlier." We went through to the kitchen and put the boxes and bags on the counter. "I'll get her to write a letter to the mayor about it."
"What's in the boxes?" Nick asked as he came into the kitchen. Henry pulled one open.
"Decorations for the party." He pulled out a packet of balloons and handed it to me. "Guess what you're doing on Friday morning."
"At least tell me you've got a pump." Henry grinned and made the jerk off gesture.
"Yeah, I heard you're better with your hand than your mouth." I punched him on the arm.
"I've seen your porn folder, bro, so don't throw the first stone." Our banter descended into rough-housing the way brothers do and pretty soon Henry had me in a head lock. "Alright, alright. I yield." I pulled at his arm but he wouldn't budge. "Get off me."
"Not until you agree to make us all a snack." He squeezed my neck, not hard, but enough that I could feel his bicep bulge against my throat. Damn, be really had gotten strong, I thought.
"Okay, I'll make some snacks. Just let me go." I caught Nick's eyes and he was smiling, enjoying the show. Henry released me and I rubbed my neck. "I was hungry anyway." I said, trying to salvage a little pride.
I made a bunch of sandwiches as the other guys put away the party stuff and, grabbing some beers, we took them into the living room and switched on the TV. Henry and Jim took one couch while I sat next to Nick on the other. Jim picked up the remote and began flipping through the channels.
"200 hundred channels and fuck all on." He grumbled as news casts, commercials and daytime soaps flashed by.
"Give it here." Henry said, pulling the control from Jim's hand. He brought up the menu and went to the movie rental section and scrolled through. "Shout out if you see something you like."
Suggestions were made, only for someone else to shoot them down, and eventually we settled on the most recent Marvel movie as the least offensive to everyone. It was about as dumb as I expected, though we did get to see Chris Hemsworth's ass which was some consolation. It felt great spending down time with Nick like that, with his body next to mine, arm to arm, leg to leg. The contact was a secret we shared, and I had to resist the urge to take his hand or let my head rest on his shoulder.
Mom and Hannah arrived back at the house as the credits were rolling, clutching a dozen or so boutique bags between them. They'd been on a "girls' day out", which involved shopping for clothes and a trip to the local salon. We all remembered to tell them how nice they looked and we were rewarded with smiles and poses and promises of food. In the end, though, we all decided to order in pizza that night and we spent a happy evening with a few beers and some games in the living room. The only sour note was Jim, who had started chasing his beers with whiskey early and became more surly and argumentative as the evening wore on.
"The separation has been hard on him." Mom had said to me as I complained about him to her in the kitchen. "You know Sharon kicked him out of the house. He's been living at the motel as far as I know."
This got my attention.
"Wait, what? The motel? Then why is he staying here?" My mind was racing.
"I just felt sorry for him, you know?" She put her hand on my forearm. "He seemed so lonely, and I thought since everyone would be here this week it would do him good."
"I guess so..." I said, dropping the subject.
The rest of the night I kept half an eye on Jim, but couldn't tell if he was acting any different towards me or was just being his usual drunk asshole self. By the end of the night I had forgotten why I had been worried.
I lay on my cot that night, listening as the others drifted off to sleep, slow breaths becoming gentle snores. Quiet as a cat I crept out of bed and into the hall. The house was dark. I paused there and listened. Nothing but the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs. Then, from down the hall, I heard soft foot steps and the door to my old room slowly opened.
Nick appeared, carefully closing the door behind him before tiptoeing up to me. After a quick glance around he planted a soft kiss on my lips. He tasted of spearmint.
"I've wanted to do that all night." He whispered in my ear. "Come on, let's head out back."
We crept down the stairs, flinching at every creak, but heard no sound from above as we made it to the back door. I felt like a kid again, sneaking out to some party.
"Where should we go?" Nick asked, and the idea came to me immediately.
"The tree house." Before he got sick, Dad had spent a summer building a tree house in a big old oak that grew out back. It was pretty lavish, as these things go. Dad was always a bit of a perfectionist, and even back then Henry and I could tell that it was as much for him as for us. I led Nick there now.
It was how I remembered, a ladder leading up to a solid and surprisingly roomy structure built among the branches, and I smiled as I saw mine and Henry's names carved into the tree next to the ladder, recalling the afternoon we had done it.
"This is awesome. Your Dad made this?" Nick looked up at the tree house, admiring the handiwork, and for a moment it was as if I was seeing it through his eyes.
