“Think about it. I leave Monday.”
Ignoring him, I walk inside and out to the back patio where I start loading the ice chest with more beer, but one thing I can’t ignore is the desire pulling at me after that interaction. He’s cocky, but dammit, he’s right. I want him. Right now. I shake my head. There’s no way. No way in hell I could go there. He’s my best friend’s son. Rocco would never forgive me. Never. Tristan will just have to remain a fantasy.
A couple of hours and way too many beers later, I rise from the edge of the pool, glancing around the yard for Rocco. I see him still standing by the grill, making more food for the crowd of drunk almost college students. I make my way through them to go to the bathroom. Inside the house, the downstairs powder room has someone in it, so I stumble over to the stairs, pausing when my eyes meet Tristan’s as he enters the house. He tilts his head and then confidently walks in my direction. Through the fog of alcohol, my brain tries to reason with me. I shouldn’t let him follow me, but as I start the walk upstairs, glancing over my shoulder, nothing in me will stop him.
I reach the top of the stairs, and Tristan is right behind me. Without words, he grabs my hand and pulls me into a bedroom, pressing me against a wall. Our eyes meet as we stand silently. He moves closer, and I close my eyes waiting for his lips to meet mine. When they do, I grip the back of his neck and kiss him hard, feeling his fingers tugging at the waistband of my jeans.
He’s almost the same height as me, making it easy to kiss his neck as our dicks press together through our clothes. He’s got this intoxicating scent of summer lingering on him that drives me crazy. Tristan reaches in my jeans, sucking my tongue as his hand grips my rock hard erection. I moan against his lips, dragging my fingers through his hair, aware of the line I just crossed, but unable to stop it. Tristan frees my dick from my jeans, stroking me as we kiss. My hand seems to move on its own to his shorts where I slide it in and touch him, impressed with what I find. We stand like this, pressed against the wall, getting each other off, and kissing like horny teenagers.
“Fuck,” I mutter as cum spills from my dick. Tristan gazes down, smiling when his own cum joins the party. Our hands and dicks are slick as our eyes lock together. After a few seconds, Tristan reaches over to his bed and grabs a t-shirt, cleaning both our dicks.
He kisses me briefly. “Our little secret, Bishop.”
I nod, reeling from what just happened.
“But it was awesome.”
“Yeah.”
He grins. “Don’t feel bad. We both needed that. Now we can just move on.” He drags his lips over mine. “Unless you want more. In that case, you know where I am until Monday.”
No way. No fucking way. “I gotta go.”
Tristan reaches behind me pulling my phone from my back pocket. He taps his phone number into my contacts. “Just in case.”
I take my phone, taking a deep breath to try to ground myself. “See ya, Tristan.”
“Hope so, Bishop.”
I shake my head as I stumble out of his room into the bathroom where I splash cold water on my face and stare at my reflection. He’s fucking eighteen. And... I close my eyes. Rocco’s son. It can’t happen again. Never.
I make my way back downstairs. Rocco is talking to several people, smiling and lifting his beer to me. I smile and wave, looking for water to drink. I need to sober up and then get the fuck out of here. My eyes search the yard for Tristan, standing with friends, laughing and throwing back a shot. He’s acting the same, like nothing went down minutes ago upstairs. I feel a shoulder on my hand and turn to see Rocco.
“You okay, man? You look sick.”
I nod. “I’m good. A little too much to drink I think.”
“Want to lie down in the spare room?”
“No, the fresh air out here feels good. Just gonna eat some carbs and drink water. I’ll be all right.”
“Good. I’m about to do a toast for Tristan. Can you help me get people together?”
“Yeah.” I feel like a total dick.
I walk to one section of the yard and start gathering people together. We move toward the pool as Tristan stands next to his father.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming,” Rocco says. “It means a lot to both of us you came to celebrate this moment in my son’s life.” He puts his arm over Tristan’s shoulder. “This will be the first time he’ll be away from home, so it’ll be hard on me and his mom, but I can’t wait to see what a man he becomes. Please raise your glass and wish Tristan a successful start to his college life.”
We all raise our glasses and take a sip. Everyone chants the word speech to Tristan. He smiles, raising his hand. God, he’s a good-looking man, appearing so much older than he is.
“Thanks, everyone. Dad.” He pauses. “We spend our whole lives wanting to be grownups.” He smiles. “And then one day, we just are. High school is over, and all your friends go off in different directions. Now you have to be responsible and decide what you want to do with the rest of your life.”
He sounds melancholy, and I’m not the only one who notices. Tristan smiles as he continues.
“So now I’m an adult. I can do what I want, right? As long as I keep my grades up.” We all chuckle. “I’ll admit I’m a little nervous, but I had a really great role model of what a man should be.” He pats Rocco on the shoulder. “I just want you to know, dad, that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope I make you proud no matter what direction my life takes me. I love you.” Rocco and Tristan hug and my heart sinks even further. Tristan looks at me over his dad’s shoulder and winks, before stepping back and gazing out at the crowd. “Okay, that’s enough mush. Let’s party.”
Tristan and his friends regroup, laughing and downing shots, as Rocco moves next to me. “Ah, to be that young again, huh? Drink all you want with almost no consequences.”
