Dinner at Fiorello’s (6 page)

Henry shrugged. Another mystery, and his mother—he wondered if he even knew her, despite the fact she’d given birth to him. Would he
ever
know her? He continued on, glancing back at the car as if it would provide an answer if he only stared hard enough. Maybe he could ask her later, maybe not. Conversation between mother and son had only grown more strained as the years passed, but still, it was odd, her being here.

Perhaps he was not the only one in the family with a secret.

He decided to let go of the mystery for now and walk home. It was a gorgeous day, perfect. The day was bright and hot but had none of the energy-sapping humidity Henry knew was sure to come later on in the summer. The sky was an overturned bowl of blue, with just a few thin clouds, up high. The walk would give him time to think, even though he knew his mind was already made up.

He continued down Jarvis. As he got closer to the lakefront, the roar of the surf and the smell of the water, with its slightly fishy tang, greeted him. He walked all the way to the end of the street, where a flight of concrete steps led down to the beach. He knew he could either go onto the sand or turn and go back to Sheridan Road and follow it north to Evanston. Although he was tempted to run across the beach, strip out of his clothes, and dive into the water in only his boxers, he turned around. He retraced his steps west and then followed busy Sheridan north, passing Calvary Cemetery as Chicago morphed into Evanston.

Once he got to the very south border of Evanston proper, he came to another beach. He paused to stand near the breakwater near the curve of the road where Sheridan turned into South Boulevard. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he stopped to look out over the broad expanse of beachfront, bordered at either end by boulders. The water sent out its siren call to him once more. Today it wasn’t calm. Waves rolled in and crashed against the shore, sending the little kids playing with their plastic buckets and shovels scampering farther in, screaming and laughing, as though the waves chased them.

Henry sighed. In order to access the beach here in Evanston, he’d need to go home and get his season pass, change into trunks. Still, the water looked so inviting, glinting in the sun, and almost a Caribbean shade of aqua. But Henry knew, from years of living on its coastline, that Lake Michigan in June was icy. That was why no one was swimming in it. The only ones brave enough to even dip their toes in were small children, who could not resist its allure. Henry remembered being one of those children. It was not so long ago.

And then he saw him.

Kade.

Kade was far back, near the rickety wooden fence the city had put up after Memorial Day, lying on a big red beach towel, white earbuds in and a pair of aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes from the sun. Beside him, Henry could see a bottle of suntan lotion and his iPad, cast aside and dirtied with sand. Only a rich kid would treat such an expensive toy so cavalierly. Heaped on the other side of him were a pair of cargo shorts and the Bulls T-shirt with the cutoff sleeves, and Henry knew Kade’s flip-flops were somewhere close by.

The sight of his friend caused Henry’s heart to skip a beat. He couldn’t deny it—Kade was a beautiful guy. His hair, nearly shoulder length and wavy, was an unkempt mass of wheat and pale brown. His body, bronzing even more in the sun, was already the shade of cappuccino. Henry closed his eyes, remembering that body, how it appeared much lighter in the darkness, naked before him. Kade was nearly hairless, and his skin was like satin, stretched smooth and hard over perfectly defined muscles. He had a body born of good health, privilege, and near-daily workouts. It was a body made for touching, caressing.

All the girls loved Kade.

And so did Henry.

He stood staring at him for so long, he forced himself to turn away, feeling like a pervert.

But….

Should he simply walk on? Go home?

Kade hadn’t said a word to him since that night after graduation on the beach.

“I dare you,” Kade whispers, leaning back against a boulder, his skin alabaster by the light of a nearly full moon. His erection rises up in the darkness, making Henry’s mouth dry, filling him with an inexplicable need. “I dare you to suck it.”

Henry leans forward, eyeing Kade warily, testing to see if he’s joking, but the lust he feels inside, he sees mirrored on Kade’s face. Henry touches the cock, wrapping his hand around its shaft, feeling his own dick twitch and jerk in response. The skin of it is just more satin, stretched over steel. Henry’s afraid he’ll shoot right here on the beach. Too soon, too soon.

Henry breaks eye contact long enough to lean down and kiss the head of Kade’s dick. Kade lets out a gasp, and his hand touches the back of Henry’s head, harder, harder, urging him forward. Henry’s never done this before but feels almost born to the act as he opens his mouth and takes the full length of Kade’s cock inside. He gags and pulls back. He looks up at Kade and laughs.

But Kade doesn’t laugh. He only whispers, “Please, please.”

Henry drops to his knees.

And this time, he doesn’t gag.

Henry shook his head to free it of the recollection, which made him hard. He had a fleeting memory of how Kade’s cock felt in his mouth, spasming as he shot his seed into his throat. He remembered the taste of it, so sweet with just a hint of brininess.

Henry wanted more.

He drew in a deep breath, feeling a potent cocktail of longing and shame. He moved up along the little street running parallel to the beachfront known as Sheridan Square and stopped just a few feet back from where Kade lay, oblivious to his being there. Henry wondered what music he was listening to, what book he was reading. Only last summer, they had read
The Hunger Games
trilogy together.

Because he felt a little weak in the knees, he sat cross-legged in the grass and leaned back on his elbows, letting the sun warm his face, forcing his gaze away from Kade. Watching him like that made Henry feel like a stalker, like the kind of guy who’d stand outside a schoolyard, clinging to the chain link of the schoolyard fence.

He forced his thoughts away from Kade and considered instead the prospect of working at Fiorello’s. What would it be like? Would he discover food was his passion, or would he scurry back to the material comforts of the North Shore?

“Henry?”

Kade’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

Henry opened his eyes to see Kade staring at him. The wire-and-wood temporary fence separated them, like some sort of barrier, however flimsy. Kade’s hair was wet, as if he’d just taken a quick dive into the water. Droplets shimmered as they coursed down his neck to dribble between his pecs….

Henry forced himself to stand. “Hey,” he said softly, trying to find his voice, trying to disabuse himself of the notion that Kade could somehow read his thoughts. Or see the hard-on in his pants that had yet to go down.

Kade laughed. “What are you doin’, dude? You’re wearing dressy shit to the beach now?”

Henry looked down at his pink shirt and gray pants, pressed, the hard shoes. He swallowed, glad at least the two of them were talking.

“I was just down in Rogers Park. Interviewing for a job.” Henry reached back to wipe away a line of sweat on the back of his neck.

“Cool. Summer work?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I thought you were gonna clerk or something at your dad’s?”

“Ah, I have all my life to work at a law firm, right? I wanna do something different this summer.”

“So what’s the gig?”

Henry wondered if he should tell him. It just seemed like voicing the plan would take him one step closer to making a pipe dream reality. Besides, there was so much more he wanted to talk about with Kade, if he dared. Like why Kade hadn’t called since he had come in Henry’s mouth. Was he freaked out? If he was, there was no need. They didn’t have to ever go down, so to speak, that road again. Or they could do it every day….

Henry was fine with either option, although he would definitely prefer the latter. He just wanted his friend back.

“It’s, uh, working in an Italian restaurant.” Henry shrugged and smiled. “Sort of all-around help, you know?”

“Cool. You always did like to cook.”

“I don’t know how much cooking I’ll actually get to do, more like busing tables and washing dishes, I think. But it would be a start.”

Kade cocked his head and stared at Henry. Henry thought of how the color of Kade’s eyes sort of matched the Caribbean blue of the lake water behind him.

“Really? And your dad’s okay with that?” Kade smiled, and the expression lit up his face.

Henry didn’t want to get into all the pros and cons of working at Fiorello’s at this very moment. So he just said, “Yeah. They understand.”

Kade laughed again. “I don’t. You gotta make more money downtown. And hey, it’s way cooler.”

“It’s not all about money, Kade.”

“For you, maybe. You think your dad would let me take your place at the law office?”

“God, man, slow down. I haven’t even talked to them about it yet.”

“Oh? So what you just said, about them understanding, was a lie.”

“I just didn’t want to get into it.” Henry sighed. To change the subject, he said, “These clothes are hot. Why don’t I run home and change and come back here and join you? I could sneak some beers for us, put it in those tinted water bottles my mom uses at her gym.”

At the mention of beer, Kade’s expression darkened. Henry, a little paranoid already, assumed it was because of the association beer had with what they had done the last time they were together. “Or not,” he hastened to add. “But you want me to go change? I can be back in a flash.”

Kade shook his head. “Actually, I was just getting ready to head home. I’ve been here since eleven.” He grinned. “I don’t want to get too crispy.”

Henry stared down at the ground, then back up at Kade. “Sure, I get it.”

“But you can come with, if you wanna.”

Henry’s head jerked up at that. “Really?” he asked and then felt a little abashed at the excitement he’d loaded into that single word. He was hopeless.

“Sure. Why not?” Kade shrugged. “You still might want to go home and change, dude.” Kade looked Henry up and down, and Henry caught that he was on the verge of laughing. “You look ridiculous.”

“Thanks. I’ll go do that and come right over.”

Henry hurried away and had to restrain himself from running the two blocks or so to his house. Kade lived on Judson, one of the east-west streets that ended at the lake, in a condo with his mother. Like many of Henry’s classmates, he was a child of divorce. Kade’s dad had left long ago and was now living in Las Vegas, last Henry heard, managing one of the casinos there. Kade had lived in the nearby two-bedroom condo as long as Henry could remember.

He had to keep himself from looking back at Kade as he hurried—not too fast—toward home. Today was turning out to be a surprising day.

Once he got home, he found Maxine just about finished washing windows but the house otherwise unoccupied. He wanted to ask Maxine if his mom had mentioned where she’d been going this morning but was in too much of a hurry to stop and chat with her.

He felt like he needed to change fast and get back to Kade’s, as though if he weren’t quick enough, the spell might break and they’d be back on the silent ground they were before.

In his room, he yanked off the dress clothes and threw them in a heap on the bed. Quickly, he pulled out a pair of camouflage cargo shorts and a black tank top. He dug under his bed for his flip-flops. He needed nothing else.

He set off for Kade’s, calling out to Maxine that he would be back around dinner.

“Don’t be late!” Maxine called after him. “I’m making salmon with sour cream and chives. You love that.”

Henry gave her a thumbs-up and hurried off down the paved brick driveway.

It took him only about four minutes, maybe less, to reach Kade’s condo on Judson. He’d been to the place probably hundreds of times, but this time, as he walked through the courtyard, with its flowers and carefully tended evergreen shrubbery, he felt like he was calling for the first time. He looked up at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kade’s and his mom’s unit and wondered what Kade was doing right now. He couldn’t help it; he pictured Kade in the shower, washing the sunscreen and sand off. The water sluiced over his satiny skin and taut muscles, ribbons of suds adhering to his nipples and cock. Henry knew what that cock tasted like, what it felt like in his hand.

He froze, right there on the winding path to the front door, and admonished himself.
Stop it! Can’t you keep your thoughts off sex for a minute or two? Obviously Kade was freaked out by what you did with him. Let it go. At least for now.

For once Henry heeded his own advice and, through a mighty force of will, turned his thoughts away from a naked Kade. He approached the front door, used the access code Kade had given him years ago, and then slipped inside the cool vestibule, with its mahogany wainscoting and marble floors. He looked up the winding staircase to Kade’s condo and wondered what the day would bring.

He didn’t have to wonder long. And he needn’t have worried about getting his mind out of the gutter. Kade greeted him at the door wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel, wrapped loosely around his waist.

Henry was stunned. This was not at all the scenario he was expecting. He thought maybe they’d play some video games, check out what was new on YouTube, or just hang, talking about what they’d get up to this summer.

“Uh, uh, where’s your mom?” Henry gasped.

Kade stepped back to let him in. Obedient, Henry followed, and Kade closed the door behind him. “She’s up at Lake Geneva for the weekend. Working on her tan.”

Kade’s grandparents had a place in Fontana on the waterfront of the popular Wisconsin lake. “And, uh, you didn’t go?”

“Nah. I’m getting a little old for that shit. Swimming from the pier and tooling around on Gramps’ boat just don’t do it for me anymore.”