Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,115
himself. Wood got out first and hurried around the front of the truck and gave Adam an extremely quick peck on his cheek.
Bishop put his hand on Trent’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “Please tell me you’re not going to beat up a guy that has a cane,” Bishop sighed.
“Look, man. Just because he has a handicap doesn’t mean he should be treated any differently. That’s not right. You know I believe in being an equal opportunity ass-kicker, Bishop.” Trent continued to watch the two exes exchange what he guessed were a few pleasantries. “So if he comes out of his mouth wrong again and I knock him on his ass, I’m actually being a nondiscriminatory person. That’s what’s most important these days, right?”
Bishop grimaced as he craned his head to the side. “I guess a person might could see your point if they squinted their eyes really hard.”
“Thanks, bro. I’ma be cool, don’t worry.” Trent smiled widely.
“This is going to be the fastest I’ve ever packed a U-Haul,” Bishop grumbled, getting out of the truck.
Wood
“I removed my things a while back, so this is all yours, babe. I wish my brothers could’ve got all your stuff, but my mother told them to focus on your art and personal things. Your bedroom furniture was massive, and the major appliances were left too. Jake, Leonard, and Cody did the best they could. But I checked. Every painting, drawing, award… it’s all in there.” Adam stared. “You were always my mom’s favorite. When I woke up, I wasn’t surprised she’d done what she did and made sure your things were safe.”
“It was more than generous for your mom and your brothers to let my things stay here all this time,” Wood said unbelievably. “Tell Jake I’d be happy to do a family portrait for him because I don’t have the money to pay these fees right now.”
“A portrait done by you would be an overpayment. But I’m sure he’ll take it. Jakey has five kids.” Adam laughed.
Wood enjoyed it for the moment since he was sure he’d never hear that sound again.
“You know, my offer still stands to help you financially until you get on your feet. No strings.”
“I appreciate it. Really. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m happy,” Wood said. Adam stepped into his space and reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “I always liked it this long,” Adam said thoughtfully as if he was locking in his own memories. “Even sexier with all the silver.”
Wood gently brought Adam’s hand down. “You’re doing that on purpose. You know Trent is in the truck.”
The door to the U-Haul slammed shut.
“Correction. He was in the truck,” Wood muttered, not bothering to turn around. “Adam, just get these doors open and stop gambling with your life.”
Adam smirked, leaning hard on his black cane to peer around him. His ex’s narrowed eyes scanned up and down Trent’s built frame covered in his frayed denims and black leather jacket. “I can’t say I blame you, Woody. He is sexy if you go for the whole inexperienced, bratty attitude type.”
“I do,” Wood answered honestly.
Adam unlocked the storage and handed Wood the key. “Just turn it in to the office whenever you guys finish unloading. There’s no bill of course.”
“Thanks, Adam.”
“I’m gonna miss you, Herschel Wood Jr.,” Adam whispered.
“You take care of yourself, Adam,” Wood said just as Trent appeared at his side, his expression surprisingly calm.
“Good morning, Adam.” Trent smiled.
“Trent,” Adam responded curtly. “No hissy fits today?”
“Adam,” Wood cut in quickly.
Trent huffed a throaty chuckle. “It’s all right, Hersh. If I was him, I’d hate me too. Come on. Let’s get your stuff so we can go home.”
“Trent, just carry the lighter stuff.” Bishop grunted as he and Wood struggled to swap out Mike’s old, ratty couch for Wood’s black leather sectional. Regardless that it was twenty years old, it still looked far better than the one they had.
“No problem,” Trent answered absently, not doing any work at all. Instead he had one of Wood’s forty-two-inch portfolios spread open on the dining room table. He’d been staring at one of his award-winning paintings for the last twenty minutes.
Wood came up behind him, looking at the drawing over his shoulder. “You like it?”
Trent released a sharp breath as if it’d been trapped in his lungs. “Like it? Hersh, I’ve never seen art like this before. You have degrees and awards and shit. Some of these have fuckin high-ass price tags on them.”