Free Wild Summer by Suki Fleet

finished. But it was likely that Ren would be with him then too.
    For the first time, Crash regretted coming here. He was certain Summer would want nothing to do with him—he was still with Ren, after all. Anything could have caused the bruises on his face.
    And then he remembered Tom’s words before he walked away, and the uneasiness inside him refused to be placated. Tom seemed to care for Summer, and Summer had trusted him enough to tell him about Crash. Maybe Tom would help him.
    Letting himself have one long last look, drinking in as much of the beautiful boy on stage as his memory would allow—but knowing he would never have enough, even if he spent all his days like this—Crash slipped out of his chair and backed away from the table. The whole room was watching Summer’s act now. Even the bartenders had stopped their endless glass wiping to stand and watch. As carefully as he could, Crash backed into the door that led to the kitchens and edged himself through the skinny opening he’d made, hoping no one—especially not Ren—would notice.
    After the darkness of the club, the kitchens were bright, busy, and unbearably hot. Tom was loading the dishwashers in an alcove. He looked up in surprise when Crash said his name.
    “You’re a good friend to Summer, right?”
    “Yes,” Tom said, straightening up and wiping his hands on the dishcloth tucked in his pocket. “Though I don’t see him outside of work because, well… it’s difficult.” He paused. “What happened?”
    “Nothing. I just… it might get him into trouble seeing me…. Could you give him something from me?” Shakily Crash scribbled down his phone number, where he was staying, and what time he was leaving tomorrow. He added a few other words as well—words he hoped to God Tom wasn’t nosy enough to read. Once he’d finished, he folded the paper into a tiny square.
    Tom took it and smiled—the smile seemed to be an honest one. He didn’t look like someone who would go running to Ren—he didn’t even work for the man—and he looked as though he knew something of Summer’s troubles.
    “I’ll put it in his dressing room if I don’t catch him on my break,” he said.
    Crash walked back to his hotel room in a daze. Guilt still loomed large, and his conscience berated him that he’d left the club because he was afraid and that he should have stayed and spoken to Summer face-to-face—a note could get lost, fall into the wrong hands. This was the coward’s way out. Walking away was the easy thing to do.
    Except it wasn’t. He would much rather have spoken to Summer, and now he would have to nervously wait, not knowing if the reason Summer didn’t call was because he couldn’t or because he didn’t want to.
    The hotel smelled airless and stale. Kicking off his shoes, Crash sank back onto the bed, laying his hands out above his head and staring up at the shadowed ceiling. He rested his phone on his chest so he would feel its vibration—if it did vibrate—and waited. He didn’t imagine sleep would ever come.

Chapter 12
     
    Before….
     
    “I WOULD ask you to stay out here,” Summer said, pushing Christopher gently against the wall of the alley.
    The way Summer’s skinny hipbones were digging into the top of Christopher’s thigh gave him a hard-on. “But I know you’re not going to. I know you’ll follow me down there anyway.” Summer smiled with his eyes, all light and mischief, and Christopher knew he didn’t mind, really. “Just… let me do the talking in there, all right? You don’t need to be my knight in shining armor, okay? They don’t always treat me nicely, but I can handle it. I’m a big boy. I’m just biding my time before I can get Sky out of this place.”
    Summer looked around at the alleyway, at the sun’s brightness above them. “Trust me,” he mouthed, locking his beautiful eyes on Christopher’s.
    And how could Christopher not?
    A squat, bald-headed bouncer stood at the entrance to the club.