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Dreams and Expectations
Dreams and Expectations
Dreams and Expectations
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Dreams and Expectations

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A Before… and After Story

At what point are differences irreparable?

Tom McAllister and Nick Corwin have always had a comfortable friendship, even though Nick is a Native American webcomic artist and Tom’s father is a rigid Christian. But they’re about to discover growing up means more challenges than choosing a college major. It might mean making decisions that change pivotal relationships—or sever them.

When a bully confronts Tom and Nick and a dark, unsettling aspect of Tom emerges, Nick is shaken enough to end their friendship. As both young men struggle to balance their own dreams with the expectations of their families—both in terms of career and faith—they recognize the emptiness that parting ways has left in their lives. But when reconciliation leads to confessions that might mean something more than friendship between them, will it make their path easier to navigate or more difficult?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 6, 2017
ISBN9781635339949
Dreams and Expectations
Author

Susan Laine

Susan Laine, an award-winning, multipublished author of LGBTQ erotic romance and a Finnish native, was raised by the best mother in the world, who told her daughter time and again that she could be whatever she wanted to be. The spark for serious writing and publishing kindled when Susan discovered the gay erotic romance genre. Her book, Monsters Under the Bed, won the 2014 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Paranormal Romance. Anthropology is Susan’s formal education, and she could have been happy as an eternal student. But she’s written stories since she was a kid, and her long-term goal is still to become a full-time writer. Susan enjoys hanging out with her sister, two nieces, and friends in movie theaters, libraries, bookstores, and parks. Her favorite pastimes include singing along (badly) to the latest pop songs, watching action flicks, doing the dishes, and sleeping till noon, while a few of her dislikes are sweating, hot and too-bright summer days, tobacco smoke, purposeful prejudice and hate speech. Website: www.susan-laine-author.fi Email: susan.laine@hotmail.com Blog: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5221828.Susan_Laine/blog Facebook: www.facebook.com/Susan-Laine-128697277229180 Twitter: @Laine_Susan

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    Dreams and Expectations - Susan Laine

    Table of Contents

    Blurb

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    More from Susan Laine

    About the Author

    By Susan Laine

    Visit Dreamspinner Press

    Copyright

    Dreams and Expectations

    By Susan Laine

    A Before… and After Story

    At what point are differences irreparable?

    Tom McAllister and Nick Corwin have always had a comfortable friendship, even though Nick is a Native American webcomic artist and Tom’s father is a rigid Christian. But they’re about to discover growing up means more challenges than choosing a college major. It might mean making decisions that change pivotal relationships—or sever them.

    When a bully confronts Tom and Nick and a dark, unsettling aspect of Tom emerges, Nick is shaken enough to end their friendship. As both young men struggle to balance their own dreams with the expectations of their families—both in terms of career and faith—they recognize the emptiness that parting ways has left in their lives. But when reconciliation leads to confessions that might mean something more than friendship between them, will it make their path easier to navigate or more difficult?

    Chapter 1

    DIRT AND loose pebbles dug into Nick’s jeans-covered butt, and the rough bark of the log he leaned against scratched his back through the T-shirt. But he didn’t care. Not as long as he had Tom sitting next to him, his strong arm wound around Nick’s neck, his warmth seeping in.

    Tom was Nick’s best friend, and the love Nick felt for him overwhelmed him sometimes.

    Nick stared out at the blue, clear waters of Lake Pend Oreille where rough autumn winds created foamy wave crests on the open lake. Spruces, pines, and even a couple of maples cast shade as the boys sat, side by side, their backs against a fallen timber perched on the steep, rocky hillside of Sandpoint in northwest Idaho.

    The air was crisp, as befit October weather in the mountains. The dry smell of dust hung around them since it hadn’t rained much. Trees blocked a lot of the floating specks of dirt, but not all of it. The sun shone bright through the foliage, forcing Nick to use his hand to cover his hazel eyes. The breeze flung his long, dark brown hair about.

    Your hair’s so silky, Tom drawled next to him.

    Nick felt a soft tug on the back of his neck. Tom had a habit of playing with Nick’s hair on occasion. Perhaps he was envious, his own blond curls cut to ear level. But deep down Nick knew that was a wrong guess; Tom’s mom, Monica, had died five years ago of breast cancer and had lost all her hair during chemo. Nick’s strong hair must have appealed to Tom, a sort of reminder of his deceased mother. She’d been a nice lady. Nick had liked her a lot.

    Nick snickered, hoping his giggle would take Tom’s mind off his mom. It’s just hair.

    Pretty hair. Tom smiled without looking at Nick, his blue-eyed gaze aimed at the lake too, both of them absentminded and idle since school was out early for the day.

    Maybe I should cut it, Nick mused, toying with a strand. He had long dark hair thanks to his Kalispel Native American heritage. His father, Braden Corwin, had equally long hair. Lately Nick had wondered if his appearance would eventually be a hindrance to him finding employment and housing…. Hate seemed to be the word of the day.

    Tom cast a horrified glare at him. Don’t you fucking dare.

    Nick chuckled. Okay, okay, sorry. I won’t do it, I promise.

    Good. Tom pulled Nick closer under his arm till Nick snuggled comfortably in the nook of his armpit, warm and safe and cherished. What do you want to do today?

    Grandma’s making lunch later, but until then we can do, like, whatever.

    Nick’s fingers itched. He hated being separated from his notebook for too long. Tom took one look at Nick’s fidgeting and chuckled. Let me guess. You’d like to draw.

    Nick cringed. Busted. No, I’m cool.

    Tom’s eyes twinkled like blue stars. It’s okay. I love to watch you draw. It’s soothing.

    It is?

    Yeah. The way you draw, as if you’re in some sort of trance or subspace, reminds me of Buddhist monks who draw those mandalas for, like, balance, serenity, and peace of mind.

    Nick smiled. Tom had always been interested in spirituality. His mom had been a devout Taoist. You’ve never told me that.

    I thought me spacing out whenever you sketch those Kalispel yaoi manga would clue you in. You’re a true pioneer. Combining manga with Native American mythology? That’s damn impressive.

    I’m not some trailblazer, Nick denied, his cheeks ablaze at the praise. "There’s Shaman King, for one, and Mother’s Spirit—"

    Stop belittling yourself and what you’re doing. Tom ruffled his hair, even a bit forcefully, to get his point across, or that was how Nick interpreted the tug. You’re an artist, and I’m proud of you. Next time bring your tablet with you.

    At once beaming at the compliment and embarrassed by the attention, Nick coughed to clear his throat and to take a minute. He wanted to veer the conversation in a different direction, as far away from himself as he could.

    So he glanced at his best friend with a devilish smirk. We could take a dip in the lake?

    Tom snorted. It’s October. We’d freeze our nuts off, dumbass.

    I’m game if you are, Nick goaded. He didn’t mind cold himself, but Tom was a born and bred warm-blooded stud. Which was kind of funny since they lived in the shadow of snow-topped mountains. And because Thomas McAllister originally hailed from Scotland, which most days wasn’t a particularly warm environment, or so Nick had heard.

    Tom merely grinned. Shut up. No fucking way.

    Nick stared at his best friend. At that moment he loved Tom more than anything or anyone. His heart bloomed with the feeling, and his body buzzed with the energy the emotion created. Tom was a great guy. In Nick’s eyes, Tom was perfect.

    Of course, his love was pure and innocent and perhaps a bit naive. But it blossomed inside him, filling him with joy. He wondered briefly if he’d ever feel this way with anyone else, such as a girl. So far in his life, he never had. But Tom had never made Nick feel different or abnormal because he wasn’t dating. Nick appreciated the heck out of that.

    Wanna head over to Crestone? We could fly out for the weekend. Nick knew his suggestion would be well received.

    Tom’s smile turned rueful but grateful too. Yeah, maybe. Mom would like that. Then his smile faded. Dad… he doesn’t want me to go there.

    Nick took Tom’s hand as it rested over his chest and squeezed gently. You’re eighteen, so he can’t stop you. You have a plane and a permit. We don’t need his permission.

    Tom hesitated, a frown marring his smooth forehead. I… I don’t know. He’s been so mad at everything I do lately. I don’t want to upset him more. Besides, it’s an over four-hour flight.

    Nick swallowed hard. A couple of times Tom’s father, Charles, had come close to hitting his son. Very close. So far he hadn’t gone through with it. But… anything could set him off.

    He’s a conservative politician, so everything upsets him, Nick reminded Tom. There’s not much you can do about that. He doesn’t talk to you about his work. He doesn’t confide in you. He’s just an angry man. Him working long hours at the mayor’s office is just making it worse.

    Tom grimaced, his mood clearly souring. Look, I know that, okay? But… he’s my dad.

    Nick felt bad for trying to act all reasonable about an emotional subject. Yeah. Sorry.

    Tom pressed his head against Nick’s. Don’t be sorry. He’s a jerk sometimes.

    Everyone is, Nick added for levity, pursing his lips theatrically.

    Tom laughed. Truer words…. He kissed the top of Nick’s head, a fleeting soft touch he never dragged out, much to Nick’s chagrin.

    Look at the two little lovebirds. Don’t they look awfully cozy? A mean voice made lewd smooching

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