Out on the Ice (Out in College 5)

“Actually, I probably won’t be home tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Elliot leaned against the doorjamb and grinned. “Who is she?”

“What? No one. I just, um…”

“Not ready to talk about it, eh?” He held up his hands and backed away. “It’s cool. But I promise I’ll be nice, and I won’t tell her any embarrassing stories.”

“We all know you’re the one with the embarrassing stories, so I think I’m safe,” I bluffed.

“Oh, right. ’Member the time you sneeze-farted at the gym in front of your mom’s friend who—”

“All right. I’m outta here. See ya.”

I raced downstairs and headed for the parking lot on the opposite end of the complex near the community swimming pool. I pushed aside the pang of guilt. That might have been a missed coming-out moment. I could have told Elliot and even asked Sky to come upstairs and meet him, but…I wasn’t ready. I didn’t like keeping secrets, but I didn’t want to share him and risk screwing this up either. I wanted him to be mine.

Sky waved and raised the bottle of wine in his hand in greeting when he spotted me. His breezy smile was a nice contrast to his model good looks. And maybe it was my imagination, but I swore his eyes lit up when I approached his car. I wasn’t used to someone being excited to see me, and I liked it.

I pushed aside my headful of doubts and reminded myself to stay in the moment.

“Is that for me?” I asked, barely curbing the impulse to move into his space and rub my crotch against his.

“Nope. It’s for Harry and your mom. I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“They wouldn’t care. C’mon, I’ll drive. I have too much energy to sit in the passenger seat.”

I led the way to my Prius parked under a covered carport and cast a surreptitious glance around the lot before getting behind the wheel. I waited for Sky to close his door, then yanked at the collar of his shirt and pulled him toward me. I slipped my hands around his nape and crashed my mouth over his. Our tongues dueled in a frantic give and take that left us gasping for air.

“Wow. Look what you did.” Sky lifted his hips suggestively and waggled his brows.

I palmed his erection through his jeans as I brushed my fingers through his hair. Sky captured my hand and gyrated and fuck, that was hot. I squeezed his cock as I sat back, adjusting myself with a sigh.

I navigated out of the parking lot and drove by campus before turning right onto 7th Street. We rode in silence for a block or two. I debated whether or not I should try to hold his hand. But I got nervous and ended up turning on the radio instead.

Sky grinned as he shifted to face me. “How do you feel about the Jonas Brothers?”

“I feel…nothing. You?”

“I feel good things,” he said with a chuckle. “Who do you think is the cutest?”

“What the fuck?” I shot him an incredulous look, then hid my grin when he busted up laughing.

“Okay, who’s your celebrity musical crush?”

“Musical crush,” I repeated thoughtfully. “Um…I’m gonna go with Barry Manilow.”

Sky threw his head back and snort laughed. “So, you’re into older dudes.”

“Nah. Just kidding. My mom loves him, though. Her name is Mandy and I guarantee you, if you mention Barry, she’ll tell you ‘Mandy’ was her first forty-five and that she listened to it over and over again. And if you don’t know what a forty-five is, please don’t ask. You’ll get a lecture about the evolution of records to eight-tracks to cassettes to digital music. It’ll be interesting for ten minutes and torture an hour later. I love my mom, but she lectures for a living.”

“She’s a teacher, right?”

“A professor. Art history is her jam.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah. She’s cool. You’ll like her. Just beware…any art-related topic might lead to an accidental lecture. Hell, a conversation about peanut butter can lead to a debate about smooth versus crunchy.”

“All right. Don’t bring up Barry, Mandy, or peanut butter. Anything else I should know?”

“No. It’ll be fine,” I replied, fully aware I sounded like I was trying to reassure myself.

Twenty minutes later, I parked in front of a two-story Spanish-style house in Palos Verdes. Neatly trimmed hedges lined the long path leading toward the iron gate and the courtyard-slash-main entrance. The homes in this neighborhood weren’t as large and intimidating as some of the sprawling estates a few streets away that featured unimpeded ocean views and astronomic price tags. But it was quiet and pristine and according to my mom and Harry, it was close to LA and Long Beach, yet far enough away too.

“Very nice,” Sky commented, tapping at the car window. “Is there beach access?”

“No. This section was built on the cliffs. Long Beach is closest on this end, but if you lived on the other side of the city, you’d go to an LA beach. I don’t think Harry or Mom spend much time soaking up the sun,” I said as I opened my door.