You Were Always On My Mind–excerpt, m/m PG-13+

You Were Always On My MInd by Deirdre O'Dare

www.amb

Cover--Always On My Mind

Blurb:

Garth Talent could never forget Peter Nightrider, his best bud from high school, or the one drunken night they shared exploring each other’s bodies. He’s spent fifteen years with that memory and has never found anyone to erase it.

Now Garth is a high priced attorney and Peter is a celebrity, heading an exciting Native-Pop music group. But Peter is in serious trouble and Garth is the only one who can help him. Garth is on edge when Peter arrives. Will his friend remember? Will the spark be there? But ethics say he can’t have an affair with a client, even if it turns out Peter is willing. Will those old memories get in their way or will they find themselves making new ones? Garth plays by the rules but to Peter rules are meant to be broken. Who can win in this struggle of wills and wants?

Excerpt:

Garth Talent shifted in his cordovan leather chair, blank stare fixed on the gleaming top of his mahogany desk. Behind him a wide window revealed a panorama of the Las Vegas strip and the distant mountains spreading into hazy distance. For him to be distracted was a rare occurrence. As one of the top attorneys in the unique specialty of protecting and defending people in the performing arts community, he seldom had the luxury of inattention. But today he was meeting with a special client, one he had not seen for fifteen years, one who had been his hero, his best friend and, briefly, even more. Not a day had passed in those fifteen years that he hadn't thought at least once about Peter Nightrider.

Back in high school, Garth had been the nerdy kid, who was also poor. Rich nerds might get by on Dad's money, but nerd sons of struggling single mothers were considered almost sub-human. In spite of his Native American blood, Peter was one of the BMOC, an athlete, a cocksman by reputation, and the boy parents hoped their daughters would not date.

The unlikely friendship between the two was a mystery no one could quite solve, not even Garth and Peter themselves. The fact Garth did half or more of Peter's homework might have had some influence, but was far from the sum total of it. Part of it might have been Peter's habit of championing the underdog and taking in strays, too. Yet there was still more involved in the complex relationship.

After high school they had gone their separate ways, Garth to the state university on a scholarship and eventually to law school. Peter had done one semester at Stanford, dropped out and formed the band which had become one of the most popular, successful and imitated in the Native-Pop crossover genre. Native Nightrider had two top selling CDs, MP3 downloads flowing like a mountain torrent and sell-out concerts from coast to coast.

But this afternoon Peter was coming in with a problem, one he had not elaborated on, simply saying he needed a good attorney and he knew Garth was the best. Garth's mouth felt dry, his heart seemed to be beating out of its normal rhythm and an itchy heat flashed through his body. The first and only time he and Peter had experimented with sex played through his mind in high-def, brilliant color and excruciating detail. He shifted in his seat again.

It had been the night of the senior prom at Bradshaw High School. Since they were escorting the Baldwin twins, and since Garth didn't have a car, they used Peter's Camaro. Peter had joked that Garth's presence had probably won the consent of the elder Baldwins for Sarah and Serena to accompany them.

The evening had been a big disappointment. They left the festivities early, determined to test the twins' reputation for being wild. Either the reputation was drastically overstated or the girls were simply not in the mood. Before midnight, they delivered Sarah and Serena to their door, elaborate gowns scarcely mussed.

"Let's go get some booze," Peter suggested. "After that bomb-out, I'm ready to drown my misery. Then maybe we can pick up some girls from Valley High. They'll be out prowling. Their prom was last weekend."

"We're not eighteen yet. How're you going to get liquor? The cops'll be on us like stink on shit. You know how they watch us kids on prom night."

"I have my sources." Peter's tone was smug. "Won't be any trouble at all 'cause we won't make the buy ourselves. Cousin Devin'll get it if I give him enough for his own bottle. Done it before."

With two six packs of beer and a bottle of Jack Daniels, but no girls, they drove out by Arrowhead Lake, going around to the reservation side where no one was likely to bother them. Not wanting to get grass or mud on their tuxes, they both stripped down to their underwear before they settled on the grassy bank in a small inlet, the six packs between them. The bottle they passed back and forth, taking a sip and chasing it with a beer.

Some time later, more than half drunk, they got into a wrestling match over who had taken more than his share of the whiskey when the bottle suddenly turned up empty. Rolling together in the grass, two hard, hot young bodies, still charged with frustration and hormones, responded to the only warm flesh that was close. Grappling became an embrace. Lying half atop Peter, Garth started to say something and stopped when he found their faces almost touching. For a moment their warm breath mingled, scented with alcohol and the cigarettes they had smoked. Then lips found lips in an urgent kiss that added fuel to the rising flame.