Gateway to Love

Chapter 1-2

The noise level grew as customers ducked inside the small eatery, escaping the heat, eager to dine on the legendary barbecue. A family with three small children occupied the table next to them and the cherubic young girl with white-blonde curls faced him again, sitting on her knees and pointing backward in her chair. Her parents were too busy trying to clean up after the other two children. Mitch had already waved back three times, so he wasn’t sure what to do as she raised her hand in a wave again. He never felt comfortable around kids. Mitch gave her a tiny wave and she smiled, waving again. That could go on all day, so he flicked his gaze across the small table at Craig and tried to focus on what he was saying, rather than the annoying urge to smooth down his best friend’s hair. Craig’s was always a bit messy—he had that laid-back casual look that a lot of men tried to emulate.

“According to GPS, once we’re on I-35 North, it’ll take about fifty minutes before we hit US-36 East and 110. Then only a few hours and we’re in Hannibal. We’ll have plenty of time to see everything if we leave first thing in the morning.”

Mitch took a bite of his sandwich, the smoky spices exploding on his tongue. There was nothing better than a barbecue beef sandwich from Arthur Bryant’s. His gaze swept the small space as he took another bite. One look at the compact, nondescript diner and most people were surprised to find it was the nationally famous barbecue joint, but those lucky enough to live in the Kansas City area sure knew. The place had a legendary reputation and celebrities had frequented the place over the years. Even former president Obama dined there on a stopover once. Mitch briefly wondered if he was sitting in the same chair. That would be something.

“Mitchell? Are you okay?”

He pulled his attention from the room and pasted a smile on his face. “Yeah. Sorry.” He grabbed his cup and sipped on the soda so he could have something to do, rather than just stare into Craig’s sky-blue eyes.

Craig grinned. “This is going to be awesome,” he proclaimed again. “More than a week to ourselves. No parents. No friends. No rules.”

Mitch swallowed and set his cup down. “Yeah. But don’t you think Adam—”

“No.” Craig cut him off, his voice harsh, slicing his hand through the air. “Just us. One last adventure before we start our adult lives. Just two best friends, nobody else.”

Best friends. Nothing more, Mitch reminded himself and sighed. Sure, he could do this. Trapped alone with Craig for days. He couldn’t think of a sweeter torture. He nodded and managed a smile for his friend before digging back into his sandwich. Anything to hide the neediness he felt rolling off him in waves.

The thing was, Mitch wanted to go on the trip. Of course he did. And yet, he didn’t. That much time alone with his best friend? Sharing an apartment—with separate bedrooms—was much different than sharing a motel room or sitting in the same car for hours. There would be nowhere to hide. Mitch had become an expert at concealing his feelings over the last few years, but together in the same space for long periods of time—it was a recipe for disaster.

The last time they’d spent the night in a motel, he’d nearly spilled his guts to Craig. It had been almost a year after they’d met when he and Craig joined some friends and headed to Columbia to see an MU football game. It was late when the game had ended and they’d all been drinking, so they grabbed a couple of rooms at a cheap motel. Of course he and Craig had roomed together. Being in such close proximity had nearly driven Mitch out of his mind. Tack on the alcohol’s effect and it took everything he had to keep from pouring out his heart. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to pull out of the trip. His heart was working overtime and it refused to let him pass up the opportunity.

“So how early are we talking?”

Craig grinned, dipping a French fry into the barbecue sauce on his plate. “Six?”

He’d grimaced but nodded his approval. “Sure. Let’s do it. Six it is.”

Craig shot his fist in the air and gave a quiet whoop as he shifted in his seat, leaning over the table. “We’re going to have the best time. We’ll do all the touristy things. See all the sights. We’re both leaving the state in less than two weeks; when will we have the chance to do something like this again?”

That was a sobering thought. Mitch didn’t like to focus on the fact they were moving to opposite sides of the country. It was very possible they would never see each other again. While it might be good for his heart, giving him the chance to get over Craig, the idea of being without him was overwhelming.

He pushed the thought away and nodded. “I’ll be ready at six.”

“Me too,” Craig assured him.

Mitch chuckled. Right. Craig was not a morning person, and Mitch was even less of one. There was no way in hell they would be leaving by six.

* * * *

Boy had Mitch been wrong. When Craig banged on his door at 5:45 A.M., Mitch nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes flew open, and he yelled at the door. “Go away!”

But of course Craig didn’t leave, instead opening the door and making himself comfortable on the bed next to Mitch. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he crowed with a little too much glee.

Mitch opened one eye and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing up so early?”

Craig reached over and slapped his leg lightly through the sheet but then didn’t remove his hand. “It’s road-trip time. Get up and get ready, Mitchell.”

He wanted to get up—he really did. Anything to get away from Craig’s touch. But Mitch couldn’t move as long as Craig’s hand was on his leg, burning his skin and sending tingles scurrying through him. He bit back a groan at the realization his friend’s hand was only inches away from his d**k—harder than when he’d first awoke. He rolled away and pulled the pillow over his head.

“Go away,” he said again, his voice muffled.

Craig only laughed. “Ready to go in twenty, Mitchell! That’s an order.”

Mitch trembled. God, every time he heard his name like that from Craig, it drove him crazy. “It’s Mitch,” he grumbled as he sat up, only to glare at Craig’s back as he left.

“Twenty minutes,” Craig called back.

Mitch clambered out of bed, hurrying to get ready. With barely a minute to spare, Mitch tossed his suitcase in back and slid into the passenger side of Craig’s black Nissan Altima. The cloth seats were worn but comfortable, and once he was buckled in, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“Drive,” he ordered Craig, who only laughed as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Lulled by the gentle motion of the car, Mitch was fast asleep in seconds.