by Ali Lyda
“Good. Because you deserve love, and if you try to argue with me, I’m going to be pissed off.”
“I won’t argue,” I said softly.
His skin crinkled around his eyes. “I’m going to get Gordo and let the two of you be alone. Just know I need you better fast. You’re still going to be the star of the show, remember? I want you there for filming. It isn’t Get Ink’d without you.”
“Will do, B-boss.”
Gordo, carrying two cups of coffee, crossed paths with Reagan as the larger man made his way out and nodded to him. He looked like the happiest goofball when he saw me awake, relief radiating off of him. Like seeing me was a blessing. I bit my lip and inhaled, forcing myself not to get scared by that. We were past that now.
“You’re cleared for caffeine,” he said as he handed me the cup. Our fingers brushed and I felt the warmth of the contact blossom in my belly.
“Oh, thank God. Nothing could be better than coffee right now. Nothing,” I said as he sat in the chair closest to me. The smell of it made me moan, all rich and nutty and decidedly not the antiseptic smell of the hospital room that I was beginning to worry was soaking into my pores. “How’s Giuliana?”
“She’s fine. Mason and Dana have really stepped up in helping so I could be here with you.” He sat down, scooting the chair closer to my bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Much b-better. I’m ready to get out of here.”
He exhaled sharply. “Good. Good. That means I get to tell you that if you ever scare me like that again, I will kick your ass. I’ve never been in a fight, and I don’t know the first thing about throwing punches, but Javi, I have never been so scared in my entire life as I was when I thought I’d lost you—even before the accident.”
His voice was tight and strangled.
Oh, Gordo. With my free hand, I reached out and touched his cheek. He hadn’t shaved in days, the beard coming in long past a five o’clock shadow. It tickled. “I know. I c-can teach you to throw a punch, if you want.”
A single tear escaped his eye, and I brushed it away with a finger.
“I’m just ready for us to get home to our girl,” Gordo whispered, leaning into my touch.
Our girl. It rang so loud and true in my heart that I wanted to shout with joy. But before we could go home, before we could be a family, I knew the air needed to be cleared. Long hours in a hospital bed had given me ample time to think. And now I was in a place where I could listen and truly hear what Gordo had to say. As well as speak some truths of my own.
“You s-shouldn’t have pushed me out. With Kyle. If I had known what was happening—”
Gordo’s shoulders drooped, but he didn’t look away from me. “You’re right. I thought I was protecting you from him, but I ended up hurting you so much more by trying to spare you than if I’d just included you in my life—fully included you. I’m so sorry, Javi.”
Gordo grabbed my hand, connecting us and lending me strength. Or borrowing it from me. Either way, the contact grounded me and eased the snakes writhing in my belly.
“I wish I could go back and do things differently,” he said. “But...well...it feels good, in a way, that it happened like it did. You’ve been telling me, over and over, that you need my support and to be included. I had thought that bringing you into the life I shared with Giuliana was enough. But I wasn’t giving you all of me. The ugly parts of my past, too.”
He sniffed and I saw the tears well up in his eyes. “I’ll work harder, Javi. You’re my partner, after all. You have been for months, but I get what that means now, and I’m going to be that for you, too.”
I held out my hand and he took it. “Okay. I know I have work t-to do, too. B-but I promise not to run when it gets hard. D-deal?”
“Deal.” He scooted close and kissed me, soft and warm. It turned out I was wrong. There was something better than coffee.
27
Javi
“You don’t think it needs to be edgier?” Gordo asked me for the thirtieth time. He was staring at the design for the center. “More youthful?”
I laughed. He had me propped in an armchair, an abundance of pillows to support me. I had a concussion and my ribs were taped, but Gordo had been treating me like I was an invalid since he’d brought me home from the hospital three weeks ago. Not my home, mind you, but his, insisting the whole time that he wanted to be able to keep an eye on me.
I hadn’t protested one bit.
“If you try to make it appeal to the youth, you’re going to b-bore them and lose the adults who fund the center. The kids want to be there. They don’t c-care about things like ‘edgy.’ Most of them just want a place to hang. Just make the red as saturated as you can in the diamond frame, and it’ll b-be perfect.”
Gordo wrinkled his nose, but he nodded and made the change. “I’m just so nervous about this meeting. I want it to be perfect. Will you come with me if you’re feeling up to it?”
I startled, having not anticipated the invitation. “I’d like that.”
“My meeting is in an hour.” He laughed then, eyes twinkling. “Do you need help getting changed? A sponge bath?”
Desire unspooled inside of me, ribbons that reached to every cell. “I wouldn’t s-say no to that.”
Holding my hand, Gordo led me to the bathroom. “Let me help you with your clothes,” he said, fingertips grazing my skin under my shirt hem.
Goosebumps erupted all over me and I shivered. He dragged it up, being sure to let his touch drift over my ribs, as he slowly pulled the t-shirt over my head. Gordo let it fall to the floor, kissing my bare shoulder as he did. He kept his mouth there, lightly dragging his tongue along my neck while his fingers undid the button at my pants.
I groaned, blood rushing to my cock. It sprang free as he pulled my pants down. I had to grip the counter as I stepped out of the pants, feeling woozy with desire.
“Oh, dear,” he murmured, on his knees in front of me. “We can’t let you go to a meeting in this state. What would Mike think?”
Before I could answer, he gripped the base of my cock and sucked the tip into his warm, wet mouth.
“Fuck!” I cried out, the hand not holding the counter moving to grip his hair. Gordo’s mouth moved down, enveloping me, and my cock twitched. He hummed in appreciation, sending the most delicious buzzes of pleasure through me.
Then his lips formed a seal and he sucked, tugging at me so hard, I felt it in my toes. He worked me then, not with delicacy, but with a hunger that left me glassy-eyed, my hips bucking. I pushed him, sliding my cock deep into his throat. He gripped my hips and relaxed his jaw. When he looked up, I almost came from the sight of his mouth wrapped around me, my cock disappeared into his hot, wet depths. His eyes were wide and shining, and he made the smallest movement of acceptance.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” I hissed, before I began to fuck his mouth.
Gordo held onto me, letting me rut as I could without hurting my ribs. His tongue was rough against my tender, sensitive flesh. Saliva was leaking from my mouth, wetting my cock, and his eyes were filling with tears as I hit the back of his throat. When I tried to back off, though, he made a raw, primal sound before using my hips to pull me back in, deep, so fucking deep into his throat.
I came hard, sending jets of my cum into his throat. I felt him swallow, the muscles working along the sensitive skin and I almost howled from the pleasure of it. My ribs did ache a bit from the effort of coming so hard, but goddamn, it was worth it.
After, he released my cock with a loud slurp and pop, and stood, wiping away the spit and giving me the most beautiful shit-eating grin I’d ever seen. His lips were swollen and red, the sides of his mouth red and raw.
“That was—” I didn’t know how to finish. Incredible? Wonderful? Needed? No word felt like enough. The depths with which this man cared for me were boundless. I tried to not fear sinking into them.
Gordo ran a sinkful of warm water after. He sponged me off, true to his word, with gentle care, giving extra at
tention to my cock. “There you go,” he said softly, looking at my naked body like I was the statue of David, with reverence in his eyes I wanted to believe I deserved.
Then he looked at his watch and all semblance of moony-eyed pleasure faded. “Oh, shit, we have to hurry!”
I laughed as we went to his room. He dressed me first, putting me in a t-shirt and jeans rather than a business suit. This was his presentation, and I pushed hard not to steal any of his spotlight. He relented, and then let me pick the outfit he should wear. A sage green button-down that made his dark brown hair and eyes pop, and tan trousers that hugged his butt in the perfect way.
“These are too tight for a business meeting,” he grumbled.
“B-but just tight enough for me t-to admire you,” I teased.
After he changed, we rushed to the center. As we made our way inside, I was careful to keep my steps measured and my breathing even. Mike started to go for a hug as soon as he saw me, but Gordo intercepted, saving my ribs. It warmed my heart to see how happy Mike was to see me, though.
When we were seated in the office, Gordo got out his laptop and hooked it up to the projector. His design popped up in full color and I knew we’d made the right decision to not make it too edgy because Mike’s jaw dropped open.
“That’s so…” he stopped, still staring at it. Poor Gordo was trying not to tap his fingers on his leg. I wished I could tell him this was Mike’s happy face, relieving him of his anxiety, but I couldn’t in the middle of the meeting. “That’s so us,” Mike finally managed. “It is sharp and hints at the diversity we invite without being too on-the-nose.”
“Is it too stiff?” Gordo asked, and I detected only a hint of trepidation in his voice. “Because we could loosen some of these hard lines—” he used a mouse to show where the boldest black lines created the foundation for the geometric design he’d created.
“Absolutely not,” Mike said with confidence. “You’ve hit the perfect balance of being eye-catching and simple, memorable, and it doesn’t feel like it’s pandering. This is the kind of logo that people will look at and know who we are for the right reasons. You’ve knocked it out of the park, Gordo, and I can’t wait to share this with some of my friends who’ve been interested in your work. Now show me what you want to do with the website.”
It was as good a promise of netting Gordo more work as Mike could make. I flushed with pride for Gordo. After Mike’s reaction, his shoulders squared and his voice lost any hint of nerves. I watched as he pulled up slides, a newsletter template, and navigated through the mock website design he’d come up with. Mike was so excited, he was practically bouncing in his seat by the end.
When Gordo finally looked at me, I shot him a quick wink and thumbs-up, mouthing “You did it!” His cheeks turned the most lovely shade of pink.
After, I left Gordo and Mike to talk details and walked through the center. The halls, the rooms, they all seemed brighter to me. Built of hope and not just cement blocks. There was the smell of fresh paint and the colors were so much warmer than the previous hospital whites and cheesy yellows. I could hear more voices, children’s excited babble coming from all the rooms I passed.
Already the center was growing, flourishing, and it grounded me. I’d almost lost this place, but I’d helped save it, too. Walking the halls created a sense of fulfillment I desperately craved.
There was some commotion in the art room that went above the busy sounds I’d passed. I made my way there, curious. When I popped through the door, I stopped in my tracks. All of my favorite kids and staff were standing around a table, cake lit and a homemade banner hung on the wall behind them that spelled out “We Love You, Javi!” They yelled “surprise!” and my hand went to my heart, rubbing, smoothing out the lumps of love that wanted to become tears of joy.
Andrew, walking tall and proud, brought me a card. It was enormous, and the front was decorated in a flurry of artwork I could tell he’d done. On the inside, everyone had signed it and left messages for me. Gordo appeared at my back at just the right moment. I leaned into him for support, choked up at all of the love and support surrounding me.
A new kid, one I didn’t recognize, shyly approached Andrew and tapped his shoulder. Then, to my stunned delight, he began to sign to Andrew. I could see he was asking Andrew if I was the one he’d been talking about. Andrew nodded, a smile like a burst of sun on his face, and turned to introduce us.
“This is my new friend, Alex. Mr. Mike said we had enough help now to have someone else like me here.”
Alex peered at me shyly, his eyes growing larger as he took in all of my tattoos and Gordo’s close proximity.
“Alex, I’m Javi. I’m so glad to meet you. Andrew is one of my good friends, and I know he’ll be an awesome friend to you. I hope to get to know you more soon!”
Alex gave a small, shy smirk, but he and Andrew were still boys, and soon were off signing and playing on their own. It was the first time in my life I’d ever been elated to be pushed to the side.
“This center works because you’re its beating heart,” Gordo whispered in my ear. “Feel proud, Javi.”
And fuck it. I did.
28
Gordo
“Do you need some water?” I asked Javi, who was stretched out on my couch with Giuliana napping on his chest.
“No, b-but thanks. You d-don’t have to wait on me, Gordo,” he replied with a teasing grin. “I’m in good shape.”
My fists closed a fraction. It seemed as if I was taking longer to recover from the accident than he was. Sometimes I still startled awake in the night, the sounds of hospital machine beeps echoing from my dreams. Javi might never understand the absolute horror of what it had been like to watch his sleeping, battered body and not know if he’d come out of the coma.
So yeah, maybe I was going overboard caring for him. I didn’t want to let him out of my sight, going so far as to pack a bag of his clothes and toiletries from his home and bring them over to my place so he didn’t have a reason to go. Doting on him made me feel...relief. Because he was there to dote on, and he so very nearly hadn’t been, in more than one way.
“You keep saying that,” I said, coming to sit on the armrest of the couch, “but I don’t see you protesting about my waiting on you hand and foot. Not really.”
He shot me a cheeky grin. “Nope. It d-does you good.”
I rolled my eyes hard. “And I’m sure you get nothing out of the deal.”
Javi shifted so he could lightly run his foot along my leg without waking the baby. Not that she would wake. When she was near Javi, she was a heavy sleeper, like she knew he was watching over her. Lucky bastard. But oh, how my heart swelled when I saw them snuggling together, two peas in a pod.
I shivered at his touch, the way his toes lightly dragged along my calf. Would it always be like this? Would I always want the way I did when he was near? When we touched? When we kissed?
I hoped to hell I would. “It’s been nice having you here, Javi.”
“Mmm,” he said, sighing in contentment. “You’re a very hospitable host. Taking care of every need.”
With that he winked, and I had to admit, there had been a lot of sex. So much sex. It wasn’t just making up for the time after Kyle and I’d divorced. It was Javi. His smell, clean and with a hint of his hair gel, that made my heart flutter. And his tattoos, which I never got tired of looking at. They decorated his brown skin, making him look beautiful, a living, breathing piece of art I could sink into, body and soul.
Everything about him stirred me, and the more time we spent together, the more right it felt to be with him.
But.
He said I was a “hospitable host.” And I didn’t want to be just his host. Or his caregiver. Or even simply his lover. I craved more of him, all of him, not just in pretend but for real. With Kyle officially gone, I’d been able to slowly scrub myself clean of him. When I thought words like “wedding” and “marriage” and “forever,” there was no longer a knee-jerk sen
se of horror or bitterness or fear. There was only a flush of anticipation.
We’d been living together for weeks since Javi’s accident. He’d been able to return to work, spending tireless hours at the tattoo shop in preparation for the filming of the show. Rumor was that it would no longer be a one-off, but a pilot for a series. Reagan and the producer, Jason, had been tight-lipped. But Javi had been humming with a nervous energy, his stuttering increasing until he needed to sign when we talked about what it would mean for him to be on a television show. What it might mean for us.
Those talks felt like a tightrope we were both on, trying so hard to keep from shaking the other off. It thrilled me to think of what that kind of success could bring for Javi, both economically and emotionally. But I also knew it would be a lot of stress, and his speech impediment would be broadcasted to the world if they filmed him speaking, not just tattooing.
Of course I wanted to protect him. Shield him from any hurt that might stem from internet comments. But I’d also learned my lesson. It wasn’t my job to be his protector. He was a fighter. He didn’t need or want me to fend off attacks—he just needed me in his corner.
“I’ll get back to work then,” I said, reaching down to stroke his ankle. “Let me know if you need anything. But not as my guest, Javi. You’re my everything, you know that, right?”
His grin softened into a smile, genuine and lovely. “Okay. Not as a guest.”
Mind spinning with all the unanswered questions about our future, I stood. There might be a lot we didn’t know yet, but I still felt light on my feet. We would figure it out. We’d be a team.
Partners, in every sense.
29
Javi
There were lights in odd places and more people milling around the shop than I was used to. It made me nervous, but Reagan’s enthusiasm was so contagious, it kept the worst of the anxiety at bay. I’d finished my back piece just in time to film the pilot, and my client was stoked to show off his work. It spanned the entirety of his back and continued to his buttocks.