Love Match (Love Match 1)

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“And then he died, and…I don’t know. It was too hard. I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. I just wanted to forget it.”

“I know. He was a wonderful man. I always liked him.”

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“But you can’t keep living in the past, Luke.”

“I’m not, Mom.”

“Honey, I know what it’s like to lose the person you love. After your father died, I felt like I was sleepwalking for so long. Just …”

“Going through the motions,” Luke finished.

“But eventually it’s okay for things to be normal. To be happy again.”

“I think maybe I’m just starting to believe that.”

Stephanie hugged him again, rubbing his back soothingly, the way she did when he was a child with a nightmare. Luke knew she was fighting tears, and he blinked rapidly himself. When she sat back, she said, “Well, why don’t you tell me about this young man you’ve met.”

Luke huffed out a nervous laugh. “What?”

“You know who I’m talking about.”

“Mom …”

“The one who inspired you to actually play doubles on the tour. Jesse McAllister, I believe his name is.” She smiled knowingly.

“How did you…was it that obvious? On TV?” Panic stabbed Luke’s gut.

“No, no, don’t worry. But I’m your mother, dear. You can’t fool me,” she said, winking.

Luke smiled and found himself telling her everything, the words flowing so easily he wondered why he’d waited so long.

Later as she cooked dinner, Luke wandered up to his old room. The door stood open and for a few moments he stood on the threshold, as if he was entering some kind of shrine. His childhood trophies and awards still gleamed from the bookshelf, and his bedspread was the racing car motif he’d begged for at the age of fifteen.

He tentatively sat on the bed, as if it would collapse underneath his adult weight. It held firm and Luke bounced up and down a bit, the springs creaking just slightly. The ink stain on the carpet by his desk remained, a reminder of the ballpoint pen that had leaked all over his English homework one night. The pen had been a gift from his grandfather, and Luke had kept it, even though it was useless.

He crossed to the desk and opened the top drawer, the shell of the pen still there where he’d left it. His Transformers eraser set also rested in the drawer, untouched by lead. It had been one of his earliest prized possessions.

Movement outside the window captured his attention and Luke moved back to his bed to peer out. A bird fluttered on the tree outside before flying away. Luke rested his chin on the windowsill and looked at his street, all the houses achingly familiar. It was a view he could close his eyes and still see perfectly, no matter where in the world he was. He’d spent countless nights at the window, dreaming of the future.

“Luke! Dinner.” Stephanie’s voice floated up the stairs, and for a moment the déjà vu was almost too much.

Shaking himself, Luke got up and headed out of his room, shutting the drawer in the old desk as he passed.

It was late when the doorbell rang, the chimes echoing through the house. Luke padded downstairs and peered out the window beside the front door. He quickly opened up.

“Jesse. Is everything okay?”

Jesse smiled up at him slyly. “It’s tomorrow.”

Desire sprang to life instantly, and Luke laughed as he pulled Jesse in by his shirt, pressing him up against the door when he closed it. “Just couldn’t wait, huh?” Luke asked between kisses, his hands moving over Jesse’s lithe body.

Jesse moaned and stroked Luke’s tongue with his own, hands twisting in Luke’s T-shirt. “I want you to fuck me,” he rasped. “I need you to fuck me. Please.”

Luke sure as hell didn’t need to be asked twice, and propelled Jesse up the stairs. They got stuck halfway up, limbs tangled, lips bruising with the force of their kisses, their hunger.

Luke broke away, panting. “Come on, I want you in my bed.” He wasn’t about to deflower Jesse on the hard wooden stairs.

They made their way to his room, quickly shedding their clothes. Luke covered Jesse’s body with his own on the mattress, his mouth and hands roaming. They were both hard as rock, and Jesse bucked his hips anxiously. Licking along Jesse’s stomach, up over his chest, Luke flicked his nipples as he went by. When he caught Jesse’s earlobe between his teeth, Luke practically growled, “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, oh god, yes!”

Luke slipped his index finger into Jesse’s mouth, Jesse’s tongue eagerly swirling around it. When it was slick with saliva, Luke reached down and gently slipped it inside. He pushed in slowly, past the ring of muscle and into the waiting heat. Jesse’s eyes went wide, and his legs opened further. Luke chuckled. “Well, aren’t you the wanton one?”