A Purple Winter Read online

  “Yeah…he’s okay. As okay as a guy can be in his situation. He’s on probation at school and can’t leave the house for a while.”

  “Did his dad, um, hu—urt him?”

  “Davie wouldn’t say. He won’t answer my calls no more. He does that. Have to give him some time.” Nick unzipped his hoody sweater and tossed it aside. He was in an undershirt. His chest was sculpted, smooth under the thin white cotton, and his shoulders were defined, every muscle showing. He looked at me. “My room is like my mind, I guess,” he said, chuckling softly.

  When he shut the door behind me, I caught the scent of his deodorant and it made my mouth water. I leaned back against the door, my body refusing to obey. I was getting hard as steel simply looking at him. Slowly, moving like a jungle cat, Nick pressed a hand against the door behind me, leaning over my body. “I missed you this week,” he said, close to my face. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble. Your mom scares the shit outta me” I wanted so badly to touch him. To put my hand on his washboard stomach. To have him fall over me. Nick stared into my eyes, his chest now grazing mine. “Tell you what, O’Reilly, for every sentence you give me, I’ll kiss a part of you.” I felt his heat through my shirt, and barely clinging to reason, reached out to touch his face, but he stopped me. “Ah, no, first you speak. One sentence. One kiss.”

  Looking into his flushed face, I tried to think of something to say. “Do you—ou play th—the guitar?” I’d spotted an acoustic guitar in the corner of his room.

  “Yes…I can scratch a tune.” Upstairs, plates were clanking in the sink and Helga was singing in her mother tongue. I had her magnificent son all to myself and she didn’t know that I’d kill to hear him saying yes into my ear for the rest of my life. Nick leaned back a little, his stare moving all over my face, then down to my collarbone. “Hm, where to kiss you first…”

  My knees were going to give out. I was weakening against the door, going into a trance.

  “Right here…” Nick gently lifted my chin, pushing my head back so that my throat was revealed. He kissed my Adam’s apple. No one had ever kissed me there before and the feeling was fantastic. I didn’t move, loving Nick’s silky hair against my face. Wanted more. So much more. “But you know the rule, O’Reilly. Now speak.” Nick’s hand moved down my chest, reaching my stomach. I knew he could feel my belly quivering under his palm.

  “I sa—aw the Pha—anthom of the Opera last year.” I didn’t know what I was saying. Only needed him to kiss me again.

  “Yeah…cool.” Nick’s hand was hesitating over my stomach. I was so eager for him to go lower and lower, but too afraid to ask him to. “Now, I’ll kiss you here.” He slowly lifted my sweater, exposing my stomach and part of my chest. I was shaking. He pressed his warm mouth to my skin, right between my pecs, and kissed me there. Sensually, he ran the tip of his tongue up to the base of my throat. Someone moaned and I realized it was me. Nick started kissing my nipple, suckling my pebbled skin. “Say something,” he said, caressing my bare stomach. The weight of him against my body was driving me insane. I wanted him to touch my dick. Needed him to rub and stroke it hard, to release me from this sweet agony. “Nick,” I whispered, carefully guiding his hand over the bulge in my jeans. He made a sound deep in his throat and pushed up almost brutally against me, squeezing my erection, his lips searing hot on my mouth. He kissed me deep and I twisted my tongue around his. The floor was caving in under me. Nick was kissing me harder and harder, rubbing my dick over my jeans. “Oh, God, I have to stop,” he said between breathless kisses, but his hand only moved faster over my erection, and on the edge of coming, I pushed my face into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his shirt, wanting to be surrounded by him, engulfed by him when I exploded. I was so close, too close. I was going to come so hard, I’d scream.

  “Ah, Jesus,” Nick said, grabbing my face inside his hands. “Not like this up against a door. With my parents up there. Oh, man, and I have to go to work.” He wiped his lips and moved away, pushing down on his crotch. He was hard. I could see it.

  I wanted him so bad, it almost angered me. “You—ou tease me,” I said, my body still so wired and pumped. “Why?”

  Nick’s eyes widened, and he walked back to me, putting his hand over my pounding heart. “I’m sorry, O’Reilly. So sorry.” There was pain all over his face. “I’m impulsive and a coward all at once. It’s a bad fucking combination, I know it. But I don’t mean to tease you. I just—I keep chickening out.”

  I stared at him. Somehow, I understood him. He wanted me. He wanted David. He wanted freedom. Wanted to stay with his family. Wanted to travel the world. Wanted to be a good son. Wanted girls. Wanted guys. Wanted to experience everything without ever losing anything. Wanted to know people’s hearts without ever giving away his. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted.

  And all I needed, was him.

  “Sometimes I think you get me,” Nick said, skimming his fingertip along my swollen lips. “And that’s the most precious feeling in the world. I don’t wanna tease you. Play with you. My intentions are good, do you believe me?”

  I knew my faith in him would take him higher. That I had that power. The power to fuel the pyre of his dreams. “Yes,” I said, meaning it.

  “Then that’s our pact, O’Reilly.” Nick’s eyes were bright again. He took my hand in his and squeezed it. “You’ll be my most precious friend and I’ll be the one you believe in.”

  “I want to see you more.”

  “Yeah…okay.”

  “Tonight?” I threw the word between us like a hook.

  Nick laughed and I saw his canines were sharp. Like a wolf’s. It was sexy. “I finish work at eleven. I’ll knock on your window.”

  A thrill of anticipation rushed through me.

  “Now go home before your mother finds out you were missing.” He walked away to his closet that was full of empty hangers. “And I gotta get dressed.” He shot me a look over his shoulder. “Can’t do that with you here.”

  I let my gaze wander over the curve of his ass in his jeans. Had to see Nick Lund naked, if it was the last thing I ever did.

  “Get out, O’Reilly,” Nick said, laughing again.

  As I did, I spotted one of his shirts on the dresser and quickly tucked it into my waist, drawing my sweater over it. Nick didn’t see me.

  I was going to go home, wear his shirt, and only his shirt, and finish what he’d started.

  Chapter 12

  Derek…It’s Nick. Your Nicolai…

  Don’t abandon me. Oh, please, don’t check out of this world without me. The doctors say that you’re responsive, but somehow refusing to come around. Can you hear me? Derek, can you fucking hear me? Are you lost in the silence? Are you wandering in the darkness? I’m here. I’m right here, baby. I can’t let go of your hand. Can’t leave this chair. Your eyes move under your lids. Are you here with me? God, Derek, fucking say something. Open your eyes. I can’t be here in this world with you. You’re the beauty. You’re the promise. Nothing I ever did meant anything if I couldn’t share it with you. Every grand scheme I ever schemed. Every dream I ever dreamed. They were to impress you. To keep you at my side. I just didn’t know it until I walked into this room and saw you lying here.

  I didn’t know how weak I was. Didn’t know how little strength and joy I had in my own heart, until I couldn’t look into your eyes anymore. Those eyes which have always revealed me. Who I am, if not your man? Every time you spoke my name, remember, when we were just kids, and you’d say my name, you’d call my goddamn soul to attention. We spent so many years building and gaining and so little time contemplating what we’d created. Or was it only me? Were you happy, my love? Were you satisfied? Am I the biggest jerk that ever lived? Oh, Derek, I need to know if you loved me in the last years…O’Reilly, you’re my everything, don’t you know it?

  I should be the one in this hospital bed. I should be the one. Why you? I need to tell you I remember every detail now. I don’t know how or why. Every moment. I can recall anyth
ing, any time, any day or evening I spent with you. It’s all coming back to me. I remember your beautiful face when you first walked into my restaurant after we’d been apart for seventeen years. You were magical. I knew I had to hold you in my arms. That your head on my heart would give me back a little part of the innocence I’d lost when Davie…

  Please don’t do it to me. God, I watched David die. I sat there and listened to the boats in the bay and watched him breathe his last breath. I can’t…

  I’m not strong enough.

  Derek…Spencer is here. He’s sitting right by me. Your son, the boy you adopted into your heart, the one you cared for and raised since he was two years old, is sitting here and watching your face. He needs you, my love. He needs you now more than ever.

  Do you realize he’s around the age you were when you first knew what I was to you but didn’t yet have the words to name it? Do you realize how far we’ve come? And how much we have yet to go? This is the deal, Derek O’Reilly, you stubborn Irishman, you come back to me and finish our story. It’s you and me, all the way. We’re not done yet. So far from it. I’m going to grow old with you. I’m going to watch your red hair turn paler and paler through the years and see your green eyes on the pillow every morning until the last morning of my life comes and snatches the light away.

  Come back to me, Derek. I’ll love you so good and so hard, you’ll never have to dream again. Because we’ll make our life a dream. We’ll pick up where things went wrong and start again. We’ll clean the slate. Remember when we were young and had so much future ahead of us? Well, baby, we may not have as much time as we had before, but what we have is what we made together.

  Oh, God, Derek, can you hear me?

  O’Reilly?

  I’m fucking begging you, Derek. Please, if not for me, then for Spencer, open your eyes.

  Please…

  Chapter 13

  It was ten o’clock at night, and I’d been reading my French book all evening, but presently, I couldn’t read another line. Would Nick show up as he’d promised this morning? How would I sneak out if he did indeed come to my window?

  Lying on my bed in the basement, I was dressed in my best jeans and gray sweater, ready to go. It was Saturday night and I didn’t want to spend another evening alone, locked up in here. My mother was sleeping and the apartment was too quiet to contain my buzzing energy. I stared at my dull ceiling, trying to reconstruct this morning’s events, recalling Nick’s face when he’d kissed me, how soft and warm his lips had felt on my chest, the way his blond hair smelled and the words he’d said. I was his precious friend. What did that mean for him? Was David his precious friend, too? I wanted to be more than his friend. I wanted to be his favorite person in the whole world.

  There was some scratching on my window, and excited, I glanced up to see David’s face through the dirty glass. With a quick hand gesture, he signaled for me to come up. I jumped out of bed, hurried up the stairs, then quietly made my way to the front door. Why was David here? Where was Nick? I checked the hallway—my mother’s door was closed. I slid the lock and opened the front door.

  Clad in his long back coat and wearing a fancy scarf around his neck, David narrowed his eyes under a black wide-rim hat. “Disappointed?”

  I hoped to show David that I wasn’t as naive and silent as he thought I was. “Whe—ere’s Nick?”

  “Ah, that is the million-dollar question, now isn’t it?” David stepped back from the door. “Because he’s never really anywhere. Always one foot in, one foot out.” He tipped his head and stared at me. “Except with you. He’s different with you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Part of me, the part I wanted badly to silence, was excited at the idea of making David jealous. It was petty of me, I knew it.

  “We’re meeting Nick later. At Foufs. You game, little boy?”

  “Foufs?”

  “It’s a club. Underground. Punk. New Wave, you know?” David stepped down the stairs and shot me a look over his shoulder. “Coming?”

  I hesitated for a moment. None of us were eighteen yet. How would we get in?

  In the path, David took a drag of his cigarette. “We’re going to my house first. Gonna get you all dolled up.”

  I’d get carded and caught for sure. Did they throw people in jail for that? How would I get home later? I didn’t have much money. At least, not enough for a cab. Would Nick drive me home? What if he was drunk and we all died in a car crash?

  “Okay, never mind then.” David started walking off.

  “Wait!” I grabbed my coat in the entrance and my house keys. Then I stepped out and locked the front door behind me. “I’m co—coming.” It was time I took some risks. But would my mother wake up later and see my sneakers were missing?

  David eyed me over. “Don’t worry, Lucky Charms, you’ll be back before your mother wakes up.”

  “She’ll know.” I zipped my flimsy coat up.

  He stared at me for a moment, his dark eyes turning warmer. “Guess Nicolai Lund is worth some trouble, huh?”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  Together, we headed off for his house, walking fast and not saying a word. Our footsteps crushed the broken ice on the sidewalk, and a few times, David slipped, those nice boots of his not offering much grip. He grabbed my arm for support. His cologne must have been expensive. Imported from Paris maybe. Whatever the scent was, it made my heart pump harder.

  I couldn’t understand why being close to David gave me the feeling I was closer to Nick.

  “You’re gonna have a great night,” David said, out of the blue. “You’ll see.”

  I looked over at him and saw his expression was sad. Why?

  Near his home, David slowed down. “My parents are out-of-town repairing their sham of a marriage.” He walked up his empty driveway. “And my soon-to-be-sent-off-to-juvy brother is with my grandmother, probably stealing her jewelry as she slumbers into a martini-induced coma.”

  I wished I had David’s eloquence and wit. I followed him to the front door. It was clean, all traces of eggs gone. While he unlocked his door, I gazed around the quiet street. Most windows were still lighted and I could see the interior of people’s nice living rooms. I’d never been inside the Pinets’ home.

  “Don’t touch anything,” David said, pulling me into the dark entrance. It smelled a little like church in here. Like polished wood and incense. “Take your shoes off and don’t get any slush on the floor.” After he’d unlaced his boots and gently placed them on the rubber mat by the door, he walked into a large vestibule that was furnished with a big sturdy table draped with a lace cloth. He threw his keys on a silver plate there. Behind him was a staircase, narrow and dimly lit, with pink carpeted steps. At my left, I glimpsed a room with a wall-to-wall bookcase filled with volumes of all colors and sizes, and though it was dark, I could make out the French canapés against the cream-colored walls and the weaved rug thrown over the hardwood floor. The room was lavish like an add you’d see in Vogue magazine.

  “My father slept with the decorator. Guess she gave him a good deal.” David walked off and down the hall ahead of us. “My bedroom is in the back. This way.”

  His bedroom? Suddenly, my courage vanished and I wondered why I hadn’t simply stayed home in my room, safe and sound. As I walked down the hall, I glanced at family pictures and noticed that David wasn’t smiling in any of them. Neither was his mother.

  At the end of the hall, David’s bedroom door was ajar, so I stopped in the doorway. “Can—can I come in?”

  “Yes, you may enter my sanctuary.” David was carefully dropping the needle on a record. “I’ve been listening to this band for days.” With his back to me, he leaned on his heels and stretched his arms. He wore a fitted black T-shirt over black pants which were tightened at the ankles with a series of silver pins.

  I stared at David’s slender neck under his broad hat, at his thin shoulders, and then my gaze moved down his long skinny arms, finally pausing over tho
se fine elegant hands of his. He must have felt me watching because he glanced back at me with a smirk. “Listen…this is Depeche Mode. Music for the Masses. You’ve never heard anything like this before.” He turned around and tipped his head. “This song is mine and Nick’s. It’s called ‘Never Let Me Down Again.’”

  I wasn’t sure if I liked this band or not. But I had to admit that he was right, I’d never heard anything like this before. So David and Nick had a song.

  Trying not to show any emotion, I looked around at David’s bedroom. The walls were plastered with posters of ballet dancers—some classic—but most seemed to be contemporary dancers judging by their clothes and shoes. His window was draped with black curtains and the back wall was painted black. When I glanced down at the floor, I saw he’d created a sort of chalk outline of a male body with white masking tape. “Someone wa—as murdered?” I tried to joke to lighten the mood.

  “Yes, I was. And now…I’m resurrected. All right, Lucky, time for a make-over.” David clapped his hands and gave me a sharp look as though he was debating on something. He threw his hat on the bed. His curls were disheveled and he ran a quick hand through them. “The jeans you can keep, but we’ve got to do something about that shirt and…your hair.” He stepped up to me and grabbed my face pretty hard. “Ah, such eyes you have.” His hands were cold, but soft. “Not to mention that mouth of yours. Has Nick kissed you yet? Knowing him, he couldn’t resist getting a little taste of you.”

  Maybe Nick and David had a song, but I had Nick’s kiss still on my lips. Yet something tragic in David’s expression kept me from answering him. I moved away and went to his record collection to snoop around.

  “Our little boy is honorable, I see.” David’s voice was suddenly close to my ear. He stood right behind me. “But don’t you worry about this heart of mine. It’s bulletproof, didn’t you know?”