Colt and Ash's Spring Break 6

Colt tapped his wristband against the lock. As he opened the door, he raised his voice to the level he knew would make Pops say, Keep it down, and he said, “Bruh, stop, that’s disgusting!”

Just as loudly, Ash said, “No, bruh, she was totally into you.”

The hotel room was exactly as they’d left it: clothes on the bed and on the floor from when Colt had been trying to find the sunscreen in his suitcase, and Ash’s retainer on the nightstand next to his AP Calc packet. He was way too much of a dork sometimes. The connecting door to Pops and J-H’s room was open, and the lights were on.

“She was, like, forty!” Colt all but shouted.

“She tried to get your number.” Ash gave a surprisingly believable laugh as his eyes cut toward the door. “Bruh, you should have gotten hers. That would have been legend.”

From the bedroom came the creak of mattress springs and two hurried footfalls, and then the door swung almost entirely shut. It wasn’t until then that Colt noticed the shower running. In a weird, fake voice, J-H called out, “Colt, Ash, that you?” The rustle of clothing came. “How was the beach?”

A warning bell started to go off inside Colt’s head.

Ash’s hands floated up beside his face like he was trying not to cover his mouth. His expression wasn’t quite a grin and wasn’t quite horror as he whispered, “Bruh.”

Colt tried not to groan.

Running his hands through his hair—pulling his hair—Ash let out a nervous giggle. “They were totally smashing.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Colt whispered.

The connecting door swung open again. J-H stood there. His hair was messy, but not the way it usually was. He was wearing a different tee but the same pair of shorts. His cheeks were flushed, and he was looking at some point behind Colt, smiling a little too big. “Hey guys. How was the beach?”

“You two are disgusting,” Colt told him.

J-H’s eyes got huge. And then he started to laugh. “Bubba, what—”

Ash’s nervous giggling had taken on a new intensity.

“Go get ready for bed,” Colt told him and gave him a push toward the bathroom. Ash pulled the door shut behind him, but the strained laughter kept bubbling up. Over the sound of his boyfriend’s total breakdown, Colt said, “Seriously? You couldn’t keep it in your pants for one night?”

“Okay, bubs,” J-H said, trying to sound stern, but he had such a cocky grin that it was impossible to take him seriously. He and Pops were both like that when Colt left them alone. Like they were kids. “Cool your jets.”

With a sound he hoped expressed how gross his dads were, Colt moved past J-H, heading for the bed and suitcase on the far side of the room. You had to stay on the offensive. Sometimes, you had to pretend they weren’t even there.

“Did you guys have a good time?” J-H asked.

“Did you?”

The answer was a shit-eating grin. For fuck’s sake, he was supposed to be a grown-ass man.

“Did you go in the water?”

“No, we stayed on the beach. Like you told us to.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Did you?”

Now the smile faded. “Hey, what’s with the attitude?”

Colt pulled off the torn tank and bent to stuff it in his suitcase—at the bottom, where he could hide it until he had a chance to throw it away.

“What happened to your shirt?” J-H asked.

“Nothing.”

But J-H pushed off from the doorway now, moving into the room. He pulled the tank out of the suitcase, held it up, and inspected the torn strap.

Now, with his cop eyes, he said, “What happened?”

“I told you: nothing.” Colt made a grab for the tank. “Can I have that back? Please?”

J-H held it out of reach. He took Colt in again, head to toe, and it was his cop voice when he said, “Colt.”

“Can I have my tank? What’s your deal? Are you always this weird after you fuck?”

“You’re making it worse,” J-H said. “You’re not going to get me off your case by trying to push my buttons. And we’ve talked about lying.”

They had talked about lying. But what J-H didn’t get was that sometimes you had to lie.

The water in the shower cut off, which meant Pops would be out here any minute.

Maybe J-H understood, or he sensed it too, or something, because he lowered his voice as he said, “You’ve got a cut on your shin, and your clothing is ripped, and you’re not acting like yourself. What happened?”

Colt wanted to close his eyes. He hadn’t paid attention to his shin, hadn’t even thought about the sharp pain when he’d taken that fall. And he’d played it too hard, maybe. Played it wrong somehow. Or had forgotten how intense J-H and Pops could be sometimes. Like flipping a switch.

“Please don’t tell Pops,” he said, and to his own surprise, his voice was scratchy. Because Pops was Pops. And if he found out, he’d never let Colt and Ash do anything again. Ever. Not until Colt moved out, and maybe not even then.

“No promises,” J-H said. “But if you don’t want him to hear, then you’d better be quick.”

It was even more of a surprise when Colt’s eyes stung, and he had to blink to keep them clear. Everything from that night—the danger, the escape, that final confrontation—came rushing back. The adrenaline that had kept him going until now was gone, and he hugged himself against the cool of the hotel air conditioning, starting to tremble.

“You know how Pops said no PDA?” Colt said, trying to unclog his throat.

The cop eyes softened. J-H said, “Bubba.”

“He was just some asshole. And we’re fine. Please don’t tell Pops. He’ll go psycho, and then we’ll have to tell Ash’s parents, and they’ll never let Ash and me hang out again.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. He grabbed my tank, and I fell.”

“Ashley?”

“He’s, like, freaked. But he’s okay.”

J-H wadded up the tank without seeming to realize what he was doing. “Bubs, if he put his hands on you, that’s a crime. We need to talk to the police.”

“No. No, please. Please, J-H. You know what Pops will do.”

“Colt, staying quiet about this kind of thing enables people to act this way. That’s why it’s important to report it.”

“But what about Ash?”

If it had been Pops, the conversation would have been over. If it had been J-H a year ago, the conversation would have been over. But J-H had changed in the last year. They all had.

J-H finally said, “I want you to think about it tonight. Talk to Ashley about it. I’m going to check in with both of you in the morning. I think you should report it, but if you think it’s going to make things worse for Ashley at home…”

“Thank you.” Colt didn’t even realize he was doing it until he stepped forward and hugged J-H. “Thank you, J-H.”

J-H rubbed his back for a few seconds. And then, in a low voice, he said, “This is why Emery wants you to be careful.”

“I know.”

“You’re almost an adult.”

“Bruh, I know!”

For some reason, that made J-H laugh. With a squeeze of Colt’s nape, he let the boy go.

From the other room came the sound of a door opening, and then Pops called, “Are they back?”

“They’re back,” J-H said. “And in one piece.”

Pops appeared in the doorway with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He was big, pale, with a scattering of straight, dark hair across his chest.

“What is wrong with you?” Colt asked. “Do you want Ash to see you naked?”

“Ashley isn’t in here, and I’m not naked,” Pops said. And then, without missing a beat, “What happened to your leg?”

Colt opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, J-H held up the tank to display the torn strap. “Apparently, they were wrestling.”

“Fantastic,” Emery said flatly. “You can buy yourself a replacement with your own money.”

“Bruh!”

“Do you think new clothing just magically appears?”

“Can you go get dressed, please? Ash is literally in the bathroom. Mr. Boone doesn’t walk around naked.”

“All right,” J-H said. “Back to your corners.” As he moved toward the doorway, nudging Emery along with him, he said over his shoulder, “Have a good sleep. Talk to you in the morning.”

They closed the door most of the way, but when Colt tried to shut it, Pops said, “You must be out of your mind.”

Colt was lying on his bed, still wearing nothing but his shorts, when Ash came out of the bathroom. He smelled like the hotel soap, and his hair was wet at his temples. He lay down next to Colt. He slipped an arm across Colt’s chest, and then they wiggled around so that Colt could wrap an arm around Ash’s shoulders and pull Ash to him. The smell of Ash’s hair. And the warmth of his skin. The firm muscle of his leg between Colt’s. Someone had to take care of him. Someone had to keep him safe. It was what Pops and J-H would do.

“You were really brave,” Ash said and kissed Colt’s cheek. His lips were unbelievably soft; Colt had told him that before, but Ash acted like everybody’s lips were like that.

“So were you.”

Ash was silent. His fingers traced a design on Colt’s bare chest. He wasn’t trying to get things started; if anything, he seemed dreamy, almost detached. But this was Ash, and everything with Ash got things started—for Colt, anyway. Ash must have noticed, after a while, because he gave a laugh, and he moved his leg: a little more pressure, almost a rub.

“You’re special,” Ash whispered. His hand stopped, and he flattened it against Colt’s chest, fingers splayed. His lips brushed Colt’s cheek again. “You’re my boyfriend.”

“Uh huh,” Colt said, because he didn’t know what to say. But his hand found Ash’s, and, voice rough, he managed, “You’re special too.”

“You did something good tonight.”

“We did something good.”

“We helped somebody.”

Colt nodded.

It was the smallest whisper possible when Ash said, “I love you.”

His lips drifted across Colt’s collarbone, and he moved his leg again. It was like a stone dropping in Colt’s belly. He wasn’t even sure it was his voice when he said, “I love you too.”

Movement in the other room.

“Now,” Pops said, his voice coming towards the door. “There are two beds, and this isn’t one of John’s pornographic so-called romance novels—”

“Hey!”

“—so I expect one boy to be in each bed, all night.”

It was like magic. Like Ash teleported.

The door flew open, and Pops stood there in that old Death Cab tee he loved and a pair of shorts. “Understood?”

“You are such a freak,” Colt said.

For some reason, Pops actually seemed satisfied by that response. He rapped on the door and, with an icy smile for Ash, said, “And this stays open all night.”

And that wraps up our spring break adventures! Thank you so much for trying something new with me - I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll be back a week from Sunday with the first chapter from Soft Launch, a contemporary romance featuring Sam Yarmark (from the Hazard and Somerset Mysteries).