Wood: A True Lover's Story

“A portrait done by you would be an overpayment. But I’m sure he’ll take it. Jakey has five kids.” Adam laughed.

Wood enjoyed it for the moment since he was sure he’d never hear that sound again.

“You know, my offer still stands to help you financially until you get on your feet. No strings.”

“I appreciate it. Really. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m happy,” Wood said. Adam stepped into his space and reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “I always liked it this long,” Adam said thoughtfully as if he was locking in his own memories. “Even sexier with all the silver.”

Wood gently brought Adam’s hand down. “You’re doing that on purpose. You know Trent is in the truck.”

The door to the U-Haul slammed shut.

“Correction. He was in the truck,” Wood muttered, not bothering to turn around. “Adam, just get these doors open and stop gambling with your life.”

Adam smirked, leaning hard on his black cane to peer around him. His ex’s narrowed eyes scanned up and down Trent’s built frame covered in his frayed denims and black leather jacket. “I can’t say I blame you, Woody. He is sexy if you go for the whole inexperienced, bratty attitude type.”

“I do,” Wood answered honestly.

Adam unlocked the storage and handed Wood the key. “Just turn it in to the office whenever you guys finish unloading. There’s no bill of course.”

“Thanks, Adam.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Herschel Wood Jr.,” Adam whispered.

“You take care of yourself, Adam,” Wood said just as Trent appeared at his side, his expression surprisingly calm.

“Good morning, Adam.” Trent smiled.

“Trent,” Adam responded curtly. “No hissy fits today?”

“Adam,” Wood cut in quickly.

Trent huffed a throaty chuckle. “It’s all right, Hersh. If I was him, I’d hate me too. Come on. Let’s get your stuff so we can go home.”

“Trent, just carry the lighter stuff.” Bishop grunted as he and Wood struggled to swap out Mike’s old, ratty couch for Wood’s black leather sectional. Regardless that it was twenty years old, it still looked far better than the one they had.

“No problem,” Trent answered absently, not doing any work at all. Instead he had one of Wood’s forty-two-inch portfolios spread open on the dining room table. He’d been staring at one of his award-winning paintings for the last twenty minutes.

Wood came up behind him, looking at the drawing over his shoulder. “You like it?”

Trent released a sharp breath as if it’d been trapped in his lungs. “Like it? Hersh, I’ve never seen art like this before. You have degrees and awards and shit. Some of these have fuckin high-ass price tags on them.”

“I’ve never liked selling them. I guess that’s why I started tattooing my art. So they’d be permanent.”

“Permanent,” Trent echoed quietly.

“Yeah,” Wood said, kissing him behind his ear.

“Come on, you two! I’m not doing this alone. Stop being assholes and help me instead of just standing there hugging each other.”

Trent gripped Wood’s arms before he could release him and tilted his head back until his lips were resting on Wood’s jaw. “I wanna test out the durability of our new couch after Bishop leaves.”

Wood growled miserably since evening was still hours away.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Trent

Trent turned into his driveway and was surprised to see new buds blooming on his azalea bushes in the front yard. Spring was coming. He sat in the truck thinking about the meeting he’d just had with Summer and her boss. For months she’d been talking him up to corporate about hiring him full-time. It’d mean a promotion, a considerable raise, and a nice benefits package. But god he’d miss working summers with Bishop, Mike, and the rest of his crew.

But life wasn’t always about having a good time. He needed to grow up and show his boyfriend he was his equal, not just some young guy he was seeing. He wanted to be everything he needed. Wood had been working his ass off the last three weeks in a tattoo shop called El’s ever since he got his portfolios back. He said he was happy to be in that environment again, but when he dragged his ass home after ten o’clock, all he wanted to do was eat dinner, shower, then work on his new designs until he fell asleep. Trent was trying to be patient, but he was missing the regular loving he’d been getting the last month.

Trent got out of the truck and went inside the house, dropping his belongings in the closet before he started his evening routine, without Wood. After he’d finished showering, Trent ate his plate of chicken in front of the television, then went online to see if Summer was up for a game. While he waited for his system to update, he messaged Wood.

Trent: Think I can convince you to come home early tonight???

Wood’s response was quick, and Trent’s hope peaked as he hurried to tap on the notification.