Read Coming Home- Rock Bay 1 Online

Authors: M. J. O'Shea

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Gay, #General

Coming Home- Rock Bay 1

Copyright

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
382 NE 191st Street #88329
Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Coming Home
Copyright © 2012 by M.J. O’Shea
Cover Art by Anne Cain [email protected] Cover Design by Mara McKennen

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

ISBN: 978-1-61372-442-2

Printed in the United States of America First Edition
April 2012

eBook edition available
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-443-9
Dedication

A big thank you to all my AWA friends who read this book in stages and encouraged me to finish it when I’d set it aside. Without you guys, it would still be sitting half-complete on my computer. Couldn’t have done it without you!

Prologue

 


H
EY
, Butters, you dropped your books again!”

Lex looked up from the floor where he’d been hastily gathering his books and papers, hopefully before anyone noticed. Damn, shit, hell. Too late. It was Tallis Carrington and his dick squad.

“Aren’t you guys missing remedial math or something?” Lex knew he was getting himself in more trouble, but he’d never had much luck keeping his mouth shut.

“What’d you say, fat ass?”

He wasn’t sure what that particular goon’s name was. Bradley, maybe. He looked like an undergrown gorilla. Probably not quite that smart, though. Wouldn’t want to insult the gorilla.

“Nothing,” he muttered.
“I think our well-fed, little freshman friend called us stupid,” Carrington said, his aristocratic voice ringing out in the nearly empty hallway. “Not such a good plan, junior.”
Why did he have to be so damn beautiful? Lex looked at the floor, hating himself for even thinking it. The last thing he needed was something else for the self-proclaimed king of Rock Bay High School and his loyal sycophants to torture him for. It wasn’t like he asked to have daydreams about making out with the biggest asshole on the face of the planet.
“Just leave me the hell alone. You don’t even know me.” Lex held onto his books as hard as he could, trying not to slip on the newly waxed floor. His cheeks heated.
“Awww, is little butterball James going to cry?”
“My name’s not James.”
“How come it says that on your ID card?” Carrington brandished Lex’s brand new freshman ID. “James A. Barry,” he read in a singsong voice.
Great. His parents would kill him if they had to pay to replace that thing. “Give it back, please. My family doesn’t have a lot of money like yours does.”
Tallis Carrington laughed. “Oh, poor, Jamie. Is that why you’re wearing the same thing you had on Monday?”
Lex gritted his teeth. He hated being called Jamie. “You might want to ask yourself why you know what I was wearing on Monday.”
Lex knew that wasn’t the smartest accusation for him to make—at least not to a big jock who was a half second away from wiping the linoleum floor with his ass. It just slipped out.
The look of stunned anger on Carrington’s face was even worse than he thought it would be. He used the momentary silence to reach up and snatch his ID card from stunned fingers and was about to make his escape when he found himself slammed, cheek first, against the air grate of the closest locker with Tallis Carrington’s hot breath against his neck.
Aw, shit, shit, shit. Trouble.
The teasing laughter was gone, and in its place there was anger— seething anger—that frightened the crap out of Lex.
“Listen, you little fucker. You’re lucky my dad’s the damn mayor or I’d pound you to the ground right here. I’m not a fag, you got that?” His words came in angry heated whispers tinged with something wild and afraid, like he didn’t even want the possibility of that accusation to be… released into the atmosphere or something. What was his problem? Insinuating that a guy was gay was like, the oldest insult in the book. Practically generic.
Lex nodded against the chill of the locker, hopefully saved by the fact that Tallis didn’t want the word “fag” associated with him—oh, and because the asshole’s father was a damn public hero. Whole town loved him. He’d probably threatened his jerk of a son within an inch of his life the last time he’d caused trouble, which from what Lex heard was fairly regularly.
“Just get the fuck outta here, Butters. I don’t want to hear another word from you this year.”
Lex squirmed out from under the big jock and escaped, making it to the front entrance of the school where he turned and gave Tallis Carrington and his friends a silent salute with his free middle finger. Before they could come after him, he scrambled out the front doors and into his older sister’s car. While it had felt great at the moment, he realized that final little bit of retaliation would most likely mean he hadn’t seen the last of Carrington and his friends. He’d have to watch his back for the rest of the school year.
Great. Assholes.

Chapter One

 

I
T WAS
raining. Again. The kind of rain that fell in large wet drops and splashed noisily on the windshield. Rain that seemed to seep all the way through the glass to drown Tallis Carrington’s skin until even his bones were cold. It had been raining like that the whole damn four-hour drive from Seattle back to the last place he ever wanted to go again. Home.

He cursed and turned the windshield wipers to their highest speed. Any more of that bone chilling, godforsaken rain and he’d have to pull over. He was already nearly blinded by the downpour.

“Why didn’t I ever move to California?” he grumbled to the silence of his car. The only thing he had to talk to was a few beat up duffle bags that held every last possession he had to his name. “Why am I talking to myself is a better question. I’m already going freaking nuts, and I’m not even there yet.”

His car chose that moment to make a scary choking noise and shudder violently. It wobbled for a few minutes between life and death before finally settling itself in the world of the living… at least for the moment. He petted the steering wheel like it was the neck of some skittish prized horse.

Please don’t die, baby girl. I promise to take good care of you from now on if you just get me there.
Walking the last fifteen miles to town at midnight in the middle of a storm appealed to Tally about as much as sleeping in his car on the side of the road (and most likely getting arrested for it if his usual luck held out). Tally’s usual luck was nothing but bad, and that bad had taken a turn for complete and total shit in the past few weeks.


H
EY
, Tally, I’m moving tables fifty-nine and sixty into your section starting tonight. Shelley’s having a hard time keeping up.” His manager’s voice was smug. The bastard didn’t like Tally much, and Tally knew it. He didn’t like that Tally was gay, liked it even less when Tally refused to give him head for a four-dollar-an-hour raise.

“Craig, that’s not fair. Shelley already has four less tables than me.”
His manager smirked at him. “Well, then I guess this will be an opportunity for you to make that extra money you were in my office whining about last week.”
Tally gritted his teeth together. He couldn’t afford to lose his job because his manager was a prick.
“Fine. Tables fifty-nine and sixty.”
Craig’s smirk grew more pronounced. “Table fifty-nine is a birthday party. Ten plates.”
Aw, fuck you, Craig.
Tally bit his lip to keep it from coming out.
The gig at Cutter’s, a ridiculously expensive seafood place on the pier, had been his longest so far. He hated coming home every night smelling like beer batter and tartar sauce, but the tips were great. He didn’t want to lose it like he had all the rest of them.
Tally peered around the corner of the servers’ station to take a look at the party at table fifty-nine. Women. All women. He sighed. Hopefully they’d be drunk enough to leave a decent tip.
“Hey, ladies, can I get you started with some drinks tonight?”
“I’ll take a drink of him,” one of them stage whispered. Tally pretended not to hear. He took their drink orders and promised them he’d be back.
When Tally returned to pass out the drinks, the brunette in the corner with the loud whisper leaned back and looked up at him. “Hey, handsome, do you recommend the steak? I want something juicy.”
Tally gritted his teeth. “The steak is great paired with our Australian lobster tail.” He tried to ignore the hand curled around his hamstring.
“I’ll take that. I love a nice… lobster tail.” Her hand crept higher. Tally backed away quickly and moved on to the next woman at the table.
By the time he returned with their salads, the ladies had each had another round of drinks. He started on the opposite end of the table, dreading going near the groper again. At last, though, all of the other salads were served. He had no choice. As he was leaning over to place her salad on the table, he felt a hand grab onto his ass and squeeze. Hard. There was no way he could pretend he didn’t feel it. The other women twittered behind their hands, but Tally had had enough. Not okay. He’d been groped, pinched, propositioned, and just about everything else, more times than he could count. Apparently for him, it was one time too many.
The plate in his hand started tipping. He couldn’t seem to help it. Oh well, it was just too bad. The woman let out a bloodcurdling scream when her lap was all of a sudden filled with Caesar salad.
“Sorry,” Tally muttered with a small smile. It was hard to hold in the laugh. Craig was rushing toward him, face beet red. Tally could almost see the steam coming off of him.
Less than ten minutes later, he was sitting on the pier with the contents of his locker in a plastic bag.

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