Coming Home: Encounter with my enemy turns hatred and aggression into lust.

I'd been searching for a place to belong. Would I find it back home?

I rolled down the window on my pristine 1959 Ford F-100 to get some airflow. I'd forgotten how hot it got in Arizona in the summer after living in Oregon for the past twelve years.

Gripping the steering wheel, I kept my attention on the road. I didn't feel like looking around at the familiar scenery. I was going home with my tail between my legs.

My construction business had failed. A feat considering the housing shortage in Oregon. I was skilled but I sucked at managing employees. Retaining them had become impossible.

With my grumpy attitude, I couldn't run a company on my own. My brother had suggested I come home, and we could work together. Start a small two-man firm.

I'd reluctantly agreed to return to the small town I'd sworn I'd never step foot in again. I'd been an asshole, obnoxiously verbal about escaping when I left.

I pulled into the driveway of my parents' house. A house I'd grown up in and hadn't returned to. Even to visit. A house I'd be staying at until I got settled.

Until I started making money and could afford a place of my own. At thirty-two, it was embarrassing to be moving back home. My brother, Warren, had offered me a room at his place.

I'd turned him down. He had a wife and three kids. I didn't like chaos. The thought of children running around screaming, interrupting my solitude, was a no-go.

Unbelievably, staying in my childhood room was preferable.

My mom was out the front door before I even shut off the engine. She rushed to my driver's door and clung to me, squeezing me as I stepped out of my truck. I couldn't help but smile as I hugged her back. "Good to see you, Mom." I looked around. "Where's Dad?"

My mom patted my chest. "He took a run down to the store. I forgot to buy potatoes for dinner. I have a pot roast in the oven. Can't have a roast without potatoes."

I shook my head. "Mom, you didn't need to make me dinner. I told you I'd figure something out. I grabbed a burger a couple of hours ago."

"Nonsense. A fit, young man like you can always consume more calories."

There was no point in arguing with her.

She furrowed her brow. "I forgot dessert."

"Mom." I laughed. "I just got here and already you're trying to make me fat."

She stepped back and looked me up and down. I'd been working out and had filled out a lot since she'd seen me three years ago. She and my dad had come out for a visit.

"Tristan, I doubt you could put an ounce of fat on all that muscle."

I rolled my eyes. "Tell Dad to avoid anything with too much whipped cream."

My mom gripped my arm. "Your dad forgot his phone. It's sitting on the kitchen counter. Could you nip into town and find something for dessert?"

Great. Speed up the time between arriving and running into someone I knew from my adolescence. I had hoped to keep a low profile for a few weeks at least.

I climbed back into my truck. Maybe she'd be happy with fruit salad. The grocery store wasn't busy when I arrived. I searched the small parking lot for my dad's truck. I must have missed him; passed him on the road without noticing. Or maybe, the old truck had died.

Heading toward the bakery department, I scanned the aisles to see if I could spot him. Mom would be upset with fruit salad. I began picking through the different cakes and pies. At least pies had fruit in them. Dad loved chocolate, though. I picked out a tiramisu tuxedo cake.

"Tristan?"

I swear, I almost shivered with fear, his voice still affecting me. I turned to face the guy who had tormented me for much of my young life. Rick was one of the reasons I moved to Oregon. I had hoped I would shake him when I started college in the next town over.

No such luck … he'd started school there too.

And he continued to be an aggressive asshole to me. Rick figured out before I had any idea that I was gay. In grade five, I was unsure of the words he was calling me. I asked my mom, and she told me to ignore him and that he didn't know what he was talking about.

Not satisfied, I looked up what faggot meant. That led to the word gay. An attraction to men. I knew immediately the definition fit me. Every crush I'd ever had was on a boy.

I crossed my arms. "What do you want, Rick?"

"Haven't seen around town for years."

"That's because I moved away."

His gaze wandered all over my body, making me feel uncomfortable.

"You here for a visit?"

"No, I've moved home. Oregon wasn't for me. Too much rain."

Rick nodded his head. "I've heard that. Where are you living?"

Fuck, this was embarrassing.

"Staying at my parents' until I find a place."

"That must be more than a little limiting."

"Don't know yet. Just arrived in town an hour ago."

Rick tipped his head. "I have a place where you can stay. It's not much. Just a studio suite with a kitchenette above my garage. Was using it as my man cave. But you're welcome to it."

I nearly choked on my tongue. No fucking way was I going to stay anywhere Rick had available. "I'm fine at my parents'. Thanks, though."

Rick shifted his weight. His gaze became even more uncomfortable. "Why don't you give it a look before you decide? Since my wife and I split up, I haven't needed the space."

I stared at him. What was he up to? Did he want to entice me close to him so he could pick up where he left off and torment me from the comfort of his own property?

A fiery discomfort flared up in my core. He had a lot of nerve. What the hell did he think I was going to say? Yeah, sure … I'll walk right into your trap.

Rick gripped my shoulder. "Look, I know our history isn't great. I was an asshole to you. I'm sorry I ever harassed you" He tipped his head. "I really am. Let me make it up to you."

Not sure why, but the sound of his voice speaking those words softened me.

I thought about my old room at my parents'. My mom had redecorated but it was still a small room with a twin bed. I scrubbed the back of my neck. Was I really considering this?

Rick's expression was contrite. He meant what he was saying. It would be nice to have my own space. Cook my own food. Relax at my leisure away from the constant conversation with my parents while I was trying to watch television. Invite men back to my bed to fuck.

That last one was a big deciding factor. There likely weren't a lot of gay men in town, but the ones I found would be open to a steady arrangement.

"I'm short on money at the moment," I said.

Rick shook his head and released my shoulder. "Not a problem. Wasn't looking to make money off the deal. I owe you. Honestly, it's the least I can do after the way I treated you."

"I will be paying you. Once my brother and I find some work, I can pay rent and utilities."

"Sure, of course. What type of work are you and your brother looking for?"

I crossed my arms. "I had a construction company in Oregon. Hoping to pick up the same kind of work. Building houses are where we both excel."

"Cool. I'm sure you'll find some of that to do. We're becoming a bedroom community. Lots of families are looking for housing out this way."

"That's what I'm hoping."

"So, you'll take a look at the studio?"

"Sure … when?"

Rick shrugged. "How about now?"

I looked at the cake in my hand. I could buy it and nip by Rick's quick and check out the space. Send my mom a text, telling her I'd be a few minutes.

I held up the cake. "Just let me pay for this."

"I didn't find what I was looking for. Give me your cell number and I'll text you the address."

My chest clenched, still apprehensive. But I took his phone and typed in my number.

He smiled at me. There was that uncomfortable feeling again. He typed into his phone and mine dinged. I looked at the address. I knew the area well.

For the second time, he gripped my shoulder. This time he dragged his hand down my arm before he let me go. My brow dipped as I looked at him, unsure why he was touching me.

Was he coming on to me or was I imagining things?

"See you in a few minutes," he said then turned and left me to analyze what the hell had just happened. I paid for the cake, hopped into my truck, and looked at my phone.

I almost abandoned the whole idea, but the temptation of my own space was too much to ignore. Rick seemed to be sincere in his apology. Maybe this was an opportunity to reconcile.

I texted my mom saying I was going to be at least thirty minutes.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up outside Rick's house. It was older but had been renovated. And as promised there was a new garage with what was an obvious suite on the second floor.

Rick was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to it. There was a spot to park beside the garage. I eased into it and shut off my truck. Gathering my anticipation for this to be a workable solution, I met Rick and followed him up the stairs. He unlocked the door and stood back.

I entered ahead of him. The room was larger than I had assumed it would be and the finishings were well done. It was clean and bright. There was a kitchenette with a fridge, sink, microwave, and toaster oven down one side to the left of the door.

To the right a queen-sized bed tucked into an alcove, offering some privacy. In the center of the room was a couch facing a television. Off to the corner, a small dining table.

At the far end, what was probably the bathroom.

It was perfect.

I turned to face Rick. "I'll take it."

He grinned at me. "Awesome." Then he walked toward me and crowded me against a wall. "One last thing before you take it, though." He placed his hand on my chest.

My heart thundered in my chest. He'd definitely been coming on to me in the grocery store. My mind zigged and zagged all over the place, scanning through our history.

It all fell into place. All the torment. All the vile words.

Rick pressed his chest to mine. Then his hips. I closed my eyes and groaned. His cock was so hard it must be uncomfortable in his jeans. I had an overwhelming desire to help him with that.

"This isn't why I'm offering you this space," he whispered across my lips. "You can say no and my offer still stands." He reached around and grabbed my ass. "I've always wondered."

My mind sluggishly came back online. My circulation had descended to my dick. "Wondered what? Wondered about fucking me … or just men in general?" Maybe Rick had been closeted all these years. Maybe he simply wanted to experiment. He had stumbled across an easy target.

Rick swept his hand into my hair and cradled my head. "Wondered about you." He hesitated; brow furrowed. "And men in general. I've never felt comfortable enough to try."

"But you are with me."

"Yes," he whispered.

Jeezus.

His hard cock was riding mine, throwing all doubts and fears out of my mind. He tipped his chin up, sending my heart into overdrive with anticipation. I sighed as he closed his lips over mine. I wrapped my arms around his body and pulled him closer, diving into his mouth.