Wood: A True Lover's Story

“None of your business,” Wood growled.

It was the first time Trent had heard Wood be anything but polite, and he knew he should stop while he was ahead, but that’d never been his style. “It is my business if you’re gonna be involving Bishop. He’s had a rough year since he got out, and I’m not about to let you corrupt him and mess up everything he’s worked for.”

“Corrupt him?” Wood scowled. “Is that what you think I’m doing? You don’t know me well enough to judge me, Trent.”

“You’re right, Wood! I don’t know a single thing about you. I don’t even know your damn name. Is Wood your first name? Your last name? Is it just Wood? Like SEAL or Cher. Or is Wood your Grindr username? I have no clue.” Trent probably didn’t have any right to make demands, but it was shitty to try to force him to live with a complete stranger. Now he was curious as to what Wood was hiding.

“If you were that concerned with what we were doing tonight, then you should’ve accepted the invitation and came with us. Bishop and I went to dinner, Trent. That’s all. I bumped into an old friend I used to work with, and he joined us. We got to talking and reminiscing… and maybe we lost track of time.” Wood closed his eyes and seemed to take a deep breath before he continued. “Bishop didn’t tell me I’d have another warden to answer to while living here.”

Trent could feel his face warming and his heart hammering in his chest. He was getting himself worked up and frustrated that he couldn’t get a direct answer from Wood. That’s how he knew his new roommate wouldn’t be sticking around, and it wouldn’t be long before Mike was shuffling in some other poor schmuck to live with him. Trent had lost count how many times he’d been told he was intolerable to be around. He was sick of being left alone, sick of being tossed aside, and had no clue how to stop it from continuously happening. Trent’s head began to pound, and the throbbing behind his left eye only served to frustrate him more. He didn’t know why he was exerting so much energy on someone he didn’t know… at all.

“Look. I can see you need some time alone.”

“Really?” Trent bit out. He crossed his hands over his chest in an effort to silence the bass drums beating behind his rib cage. He made the mistake of inhaling that fragrance that seemed to meld into Wood’s own scent to make a heady combination that left Trent dizzy and a little mad. “You really going to keep your name a secret? I guess I’ll just call you Woody W. Wood.”

Wood flinched hard as if he’d been stabbed by a hot poker. After several stern breaths as if he was struggling to calm himself, Wood’s light brown eyes shot over to meet his. And for the first time since Wood had barged into Trent’s life he saw fire, passion, and hurt blazing in those blown orbs as he closed the small space between them. “Don’t call me Woody. Do not ever call me that. You got it?”

Wood walked out of the kitchen without another word as if Trent had been corrected and was now dismissed. What the hell? Trent admitted that he didn’t always know when to leave well enough alone, but sometimes getting under someone’s skin was the only way to find out the real them. “Understood. Good night, Woody?”

Trent didn’t make it into his bedroom before a thick, tattooed forearm was hooked around his throat. He was momentarily shocked at the sheer strength Wood possessed as he was spun hard and pushed against the wall. Trent just managed to clutch on to two broad shoulders before Wood was in his face, their noses touching. “What the—”

“Has no one ever taught you to respect your elders, boy?” Wood growled. Trent was pinned, rendered immobile, and all he could do was stare, completely riveted.

Chapter Nine

Wood

“Are you fucking crazy?” Trent hissed through clenched teeth, but the nerve he’d had behind his earlier words were gone, now replaced with caution… and lust.

“I asked you politely not to call me that. Now, I’m telling you. Don’t. Do it. My name is Herschel Wood, Jr. No middle name. You can call me Herschel, or Wood, that’s it. I would’ve told you that if you’d bothered to ask.” Wood fumed. He had his forearm across Trent’s chest, pushing his back into the closet door at the end of the dark hallway. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, but how dare Trent drive him to the edge like this? Wood pressed in so tight until there was only air and misunderstanding between them, his mouth mere inches from Trent’s parted lips. “You wanted to get a reaction out of me, you annoying, immature little shit… now you’ve got one.”