Hanging Loose (10 page)

I watched Jez and that easy familiarity with which he interacted with the others—the friendly scuffle and teasing with Scoot and Ginny and the subtle signs of affection with Doug and Loreen. Jez might not have had a conventional family, but he had plenty of people who cared for him.

As if he felt my gawking, Jez turned and looked back, his face cast in orange tones by the puny, little flames. He gave me an intimate half smile, and my heart was suddenly as full with sweet sticky goodness as one of Loreen’s jam jars. At last, Jez came and sat down next to me, fussing about with the pillow and blanket for bit. Finally he settled down and pulled me close. I was as content as a cat. I’d have purred if I could.

* * *

The morning light peeled off the layers of sleep one by one. It stubbornly tried to pry my eyelids apart, but I resisted. I snuggled closer to Jez, hiding my face under his arm.

Click. Click.

“What the fuck?”

I cracked open one eye. In the next moment, they both popped open in disbelief. I sat bolt upright, clutching the blanket in front of me.

Click.

Ginny was kneeling on the foot of the bed. She lowered the camera and grinned.

“You were adorable.”

“Ginny, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Taking candid photos,” she replied without any show of shame.

Jez stirred. “She has no sense of boundaries. I blame the parents,” he said sleepily yet unperturbed.

I was speechless. Jez pushed himself up, pulled me to him, and put his chin on my shoulder. I swear he was posing for her. I shoved him away, but he just dragged me with him, laughing.

Click. Click.

“Okay, Ginny, you need to go,” said Jez. “Nate and I would like to have morning sex, and you’re not allowed to take pictures.”

“You’re no fun!” Ginny stomped toward the door.

“And no listening through the door!” Jez yelled after her.

Her footsteps thundered down the stairs.

“Seriously…” I grumbled.

“C’mere, Ducky.” Jez tugged me closer.

I snatched a pillow and smacked him over the head with it. It all went downhill from there, turning into a naked wrestling match of sorts, with lots of rubbing and heavy breathing. Jez pinned me down and worried one of my nipples with his tongue and teeth. I’d never thought of my nipples as an erogenous zone before, but what Jez did to them was such sweet torture.

By the time he moved on to the other one, my morning wood—effectively terminated by Ginny’s appearance—was back in full force. I threaded my fingers into Jez’s hair and pulled his face back up to mine. I had to kiss him, morning breath be damned.

Jez’s lips were like sin—soft and firm, knowing and wanton. They said without words more than spoken language could express. I replied in kind. My hands roamed all over his body, as if I could mark him as mine just by touch. Shivers of desire fluttered through me as we rutted together. There was so much heat and friction between us, I expected the bed to burst into flames. Jez reached in the direction of the night table, and unknown objects tumbled loudly to the floor. He got what he wanted, though. The lotion coated our cocks in slippery goodness. To my surprise, Jez rolled us over till I was on top of him, straddling his hips.

“You’ll like this,” he said, maneuvering my cock between his thighs.

I thrust experimentally. The tight, moist heat felt like heaven. Jez let out a pleased little sigh as my cock slid along his perineum.

“Yes, like that,” he said, prodding me on.

I plunged in and fucked his thighs, amazed at how good it felt. Jez’s cock was trapped between us. I felt its hard length slipping and sliding, and I didn’t think the friction would’ve been enough, but from the noises Jez made, I had to be wrong. I licked his nipples, trying to remember how he’d done it to me. I must’ve gotten it right, because he arched into my touch.

“Oh Nate, baby, yes,” he moaned.

It stole my breath away, hearing him so abandoned, so needy for me. It was still so hard for me to believe that someone like him would want me. That note of desire shot straight through my heart and down to my groin. As the tingle of impending release spread through me, I buried my head into Jez’s neck to muffle the sounds I was about to make. I came, crying out his name.

Once I got my breathing back to normal, I took Jez’s neglected cock in hand. Our fingers entwined over his shaft and pumped till he spurted all over our hands and his stomach.

Chapter Eleven

I had mixed feelings about heading back to Venice. I really liked it out here, but I was keen on getting Jez all to myself, without concerns for noise and nosy teenagers. I was also worried about Arthur. Jez had called him several times a day and was told everything was fine, but I knew he was twice as anxious as me to get assurances in person.

I was gathering our stuff when I remembered a beach towel left on the deck’s railing, and went to get it. I heard Doug and Jez talking down below and almost called out to them, but something in the tone of their voices stopped me.

“It doesn’t make any sense, driving up again tomorrow,” Doug argued.

“It’s not a big deal.” Jez sounded resolute. “I’m not going to get him involved. With all the precautions you take to keep your family out of it, you should understand.”

“They know about it, though. Don’t you trust him?”

“You know it’s not about that.”

“Have you told him?”

Jez walked away, and I didn’t get to learn what he hadn’t told me. I staggered back to our room with my heart thumping like cornered rabbit. Scenarios, each wilder than the last, chased each other around in my mind. Only one didn’t look like an escapee from a direct-to-DVD horror flick. It caught the other ones one by one and clubbed them dead. It was so fuckin’ obvious, I should’ve figured it out a long time ago. We were in Southern California, where the main forces of the economy were the movie industry, pot, and porn. Suddenly Jez’s easygoing lifestyle, seeming lack of employment, and frequent absences all made sense. By the time I fit all the pieces together, my head was spinning.

That’s how Jez found me: sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching a brightly colored beach towel. He frowned.

“You all right?”

“I’m not stupid, you know. You don’t have to treat me like a child!” Even I was surprised at the edge of anger in my voice.

“O-okay…”

“I know what you’re doing.” I threw the fuckin’ towel across the room.

Jez looked at me with alarm. “What are you talking about?”

“I ate one of Arthur’s cookies.” I recalled the sense of elation I’d felt that day. I should’ve realized then they weren’t normal cookies, but I can be exceptionally dense sometimes.

“You weren’t supposed to,” Jez said with a deflated sigh.

“He offered.” I launched myself off the bed. I wanted us to be at eye level. “How was I supposed to know there was pot in them?”

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Jez retreated to the window and perched on the sill.

“He probably thought I knew. And really, what’s the big deal? We smoked together before.”

“You knew what you were doing then. I wasn’t going to secretly drug you. I even made separate cookies for you.”

“Well, that’s nice, but why all the secrecy?” I shot a sharp look at him, but then I felt bad about it. I wasn’t even sure why I felt so irritable, but it filled me with a nervous energy that needed a target. I dumped the contents of our bag back on the bed and started repacking. Jez finally spoke.

“Look, I just wanted to keep you out of it. It’s complicated.”

“Not really. Doug grows it. You take it back to LA, right?”

Jez nodded.

“Then what?”

“I have a friend in Silver Lake—Rafael; he works in a hospice. He has patients with everything from cancer to HIV.”

“Isn’t medical marijuana legal in California?” I shoved the undies back into the bag.

“It has been for years, but it’s still illegal at the federal level. The feds can bust you anytime for possession. Growing for personal use, selling, and trafficking are still illegal at a state level too.”

“Didn’t a proposition just pass recently that made dispensaries legal?”

“Yeah. Again, at state level only. Welcome to our fucked-up legal system.” He threw his arms wide.

“So what…? You and Doug are running a big illegal charity?”

Jez looked out the window and back. “Not exactly. I pay Doug a fair market value for it. Part of it goes to Rafael in Silver Lake. The other part I sell to cover my costs and pay the bills.”

That made me pause and think, so I folded a few T-shirts before looking up again.

“I can’t see you standing on street corner, peddling weed.”

Jez laughed, but there was no real cheer in it. “I have an exclusive clientele. Hollywood types mostly.”

“So that’s what the phone calls and the sudden trips are all about?”

He nodded.

There was something I still didn’t get. “But why would they come to you? People like that should be able to score easily enough.”

“Not necessarily. I have an angle: my weed is organic.” It made perfect, if warped, sense. Jez went on with a bit more urgency. “Some of the pot out there has enough pesticide in it to make you sick. Mine doesn’t have a drop. I charge a premium for that. It’s not a bad thing either for those who actually use it medically.”

“I still don’t get why you kept it from me.” I knew what had put the bug up my ass. “I know we’re not…” I made a feeble gesture because I had no idea what we were and were not. “But I tell you everything, and I just thought…”

“It’s not that.” He sounded pained. “I don’t want you mixed up in this.”

“If you’re hiding bales of pot in the garage, I’m probably already mixed up.”

“It doesn’t come in bales.” His smile was as weak as a kitten. “Anyway, I never have more than a tiny baggie in the house.”

“Then where…” I started, but I knew the answer before I could finish. “It’s Arthur. He holds your stash.”

“Yeah. Who would suspect an old guy, right?”

The blanks were filling in on their own. I saw details I didn’t expect—or want.

“And you pay his rent and supply him with magic cookies. He’s really sick, isn’t he?” I felt myself deflating.

“Lung cancer.”

Of course, Arthur was sickly. Half the time he looked like death warmed over, but I had thought that was from old age. I hadn’t been around old or sick people much before. I wasn’t expecting anything so…final. It knocked the fight out of me, but I still felt uneasy about Jez using him like that. He read me like a billboard.

“I don’t exactly like the setup myself, but I didn’t arrange it. I inherited the whole deal.” Jez pushed himself off the windowsill but then just stood there, hesitant, looking like he didn’t know whether to sit back down or to move.

“Inherited? From whom?”

“Adelle, of course.” Jez looked at me like I was someone who didn’t understand the simplest things. Meanwhile, my jaw hit the floor.

“Your grandmother was a dope dealer?”

“Sounds rather sordid, put that way. Adelle knew a lot of people in Hollywood and knew people who grew pot, and somehow gradually became the person to connect the two. Everyone trusted her, and she never had any trouble from the cops. She got into the medical angle of things when an old friend of hers got glaucoma.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, obviously not knowing what to do with them. His discomfort made me feel worse.

“You could’ve quit.”

“I couldn’t leave Rafael in the lurch. And the other part—the dealing—made it easy to care for Adelle.”

“What about Arthur?” I asked, and there was no anger anymore, only a desire to understand.

“She was looking after him long before he got sick. They go way back. When Adelle herself got too weak about three years ago, I moved back in and took over. Doug doesn’t trust anyone else, and neither do the Hollywood clients. So for now, I’m stuck with it.” He shrugged.

I rummaged around in my conscience but found no moral outrage, only a murky sense of discomfort. I pulled myself together and covered the distance separating us in three steps. I looked deeply into Jez’s eyes.

“Okay, so now I know all about it. Doug’s right; there’s no reason for you to drive up here again tomorrow when we can take it back with us today.”

“No,” Jez said simply. A small muscle in the corner of his jaw that I hadn’t noticed before tensed.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the way he looked back at me—serious as a marble statue—shut me up.

From somewhere downstairs, Loreen shouted for us to come to lunch.

“Look”—Jez’s expression softened—“this whole situation might change soon. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Jez slid his hands up my arms, tentatively, warmly, and held me by the shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered ruefully.

“What for?”

“You made me out to be this perfect guy, and I’m just as fucked-up as anyone else.”

“You’re not fucked-up. Just human,” I replied stubbornly.

“Nate, baby,” he said low and quiet, on the margin of a whisper, “are we cool?”

We were. Hot, cool, anything but lukewarm. “Yeah,” I said on an exhale.

Jez drew me in, and we stood there for a long moment, wound tightly around each other. So it wasn’t all that simple after all. I was too far gone to care.

Chapter Twelve

The drive back to Venice was subdued. The joy and tranquility of the previous days were seeping away. I tried to hold them back with light chatter, but it wasn’t working. Tension filled the van like a skunky smell and wouldn’t go away. Eventually I shut up and stared out the window. I would have been content never to revisit that morning’s conversation, but obviously Jez was still bothered.

“Look,” he started, “I’m not gonna feel guilty for getting pot to sick people. I know it helps; I’ve seen it.”

“Okay.” I hoped that would be the end of it. Not so.

He continued. “In general, I don’t think it’s any worse than alcohol. Maybe less. Hell, I think if pot was legal, less people would do meth—and that shit’s really bad.”

I didn’t comment. It wasn’t a subject to which I had paid much mind before.