by Olsen, Isla
“So, what happens now?” I ask, my eyes veering toward the open doorway of Ryder’s room.
Holly glances back for a moment before returning her attention to me, her eyes full of compassion. “It’s going to be tough. According to his records he’s an orphan, and there’s no mention of any extended family who can take him in. I imagine that’s how he ended up in care in the first place. He’ll need to stay here for treatment for at least the next few days, and he’ll have a social worker assigned as his temporary guardian. But if there’s no family member that can be located quickly, he’ll go back into the system.”
The thought of Ryder going back into foster care makes my gut twist. I know there are some amazing foster parents out there, but there are also some not so great ones, and there are also many who are just doing their best with limited support, and for a kid like Ryder it’s hard to see how that could be enough.
What if someone decides it’s too much of a hassle to get his medication, so they just stop giving it to him? What if someone decides his doctor’s appointments are too expensive? What if someone leaves him alone for too long and he has a seizure and hurts himself?
I’m about to mention all my concerns to Holly when I see a familiar figure walking through the ward. Already my heart feels lighter just having Blake nearby.
As he approaches, I notice he’s holding a box in his hand. My mouth falls open in shock. “You actually got an Elmo?”
He grins. “I put the word out on social media. There was a couple in the Village whose daughter got two for Christmas so they were happy for me to take this off their hands.”
“Oh my god, this is amazing.” Despite everything, I can’t help grinning as I gaze at the Elmo stuffy. Ryder will love it.
“I’m guessing this is for Ryder?” Blake asks, one eyebrow raised.
I nod and explain the situation, introducing him to Holly as I do so.
“I’m going to check on Ryder,” Holly says with a kind smile. “I can take that in to him if you’d like?”
Blake nods and hands her the Elmo. Once she’s disappeared into the room, he reaches out to stroke my cheek, his eyes full of concern. “You’re really upset by this, aren’t you?”
I nod sadly. “I know it happens. I mean, god, this isn’t even the first time I’ve seen it happen. It’s just…there’s something about this kid, Blake. And I’m so scared he’s going to get tossed back into the system and he won’t get the proper support he needs. He deserves so much better than to be a…a burden on someone. He deserves a good life. A great life.”
Blake pulls me into his arms, holding me tight and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay,” he says simply.
“Okay, what?”
He draws back from me a little, his hands coming up to cup my face. “Okay, we’ll foster him.”
My mouth falls open. “But—”
“We’ll speak to whoever we need to speak to. We’ll do whatever training we need to do. We’ll get whatever qualification we need to get. And he’ll come home with us and we’ll take care of him.”
20
Ben
* * *
Feeling Aidan shift in my arms, I crack my eyes open to find him gazing at me, that familiar look of affection lighting his beautiful green eyes.
“Morning,” I murmur.
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Morning. Happy New Year.”
I grin and lean forward to brush my lips against his. “Happy New Year, babe.”
“Are we really lame for not celebrating the new year with people last night?”
I shake my head. “No way. I prefer the way we celebrated.” Grabbing his waist, I roll us over so I’m molded on top of him, my lips finding his again as I start to move my hips.
“Wait,” he gasps, tearing his mouth away.
I stop moving. “Yeah?”
“I just…really need to pee. Like, my bladder is ready to burst.”
With a chuckle, I roll off him and prop myself up on my elbows, my eyes glued to his naked ass as he rushes to the bathroom. A slow grin forms across my face as I catch sight of the red mark spread over one of his cheeks and I’m hit with an onslaught of memories from last night.
Rather than waiting for Aidan to return to the bed, I get up and stalk over to the ensuite.
“Why are you up?” he asks, shaking off his dick and flushing the toilet. “I was just about to come back.”
I offer a teasing smile. “I had a better idea.” I reach into the shower and turn it on, waiting a few moments for the water to heat up before stepping under the spray.
Getting with the plan quickly, Aidan joins me in the shower, linking his arms around my neck and dragging my head down to claim my lips as the water sluices around us.
“Mmm…” I groan against his lips, my hands finding his ass and pulling him closer to me. “Fucking love the ass,” I tell him, giving it a squeeze.
He chuckles. “So you’ve said. Many times.”
“Well, it needs to be said.”
I kiss him again, delving my tongue farther into his mouth and eliciting a harsh groan from deep in his throat. Christ, I love kissing this man. And holding him in my arms. And feeling his beautiful body against mine.
I manage to tear my lips away and reach for the mint-scented body scrub that Aidan likes because he thinks it makes his skin feel “fresh,” and that I love because it makes him smell amazing. He still has some cum on his stomach from last night, so I lather up my hands and move them over his body, cleaning him up.
Once I’m sure his stomach is cum-free, I turn him around and focus my attention on his ass, which is also still a little messy; clearly we need to be doing better with our post-sex clean-up.
Soft noises of appreciation drop from his lips as I massage his ass, the sounds making me rock hard and absolutely desperate for some more intimate contact. Once the soap’s all washed away, I step a little closer behind Aidan, bending my head to trail hot kisses over his neck as I push two wet fingers inside him.
“Ah, shit…” Aidan’s low murmurs of pleasure turn into outright groans as I start finger-fucking him, my other arm coming up to wrap around his chest, holding him in place against me. “Jesus, Ben…fuck…”
I let out a soft groan as he pushes his ass back against my hand, the movement lining my cock up against his hip. He tilts his head back and I slam my lips against his, swallowing his needy groans as I continue to finger him, making sure to hit that perfect spot that makes him buck and tremble in my arms.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Ben….” Aidan gasps, and I feel his body seizing up, his ass clamping tight around my fingers as he climaxes, painting the shower screen with his cum.
I pull my hand away and hold him tight in both arms, giving him a moment to recover; but then he pries my grip loose and turns around, dropping to his knees in front of me. Before I can comment, he has his hot, wet mouth wrapped around my throbbing dick. I reach out and grab at his wet hair, holding him in place as I thrust my hips forward, fucking his throat.
He groans around my cock, his gorgeous eyes lit with heat and desire. He lifts one hand to gently tug my balls and that’s all it takes for the orgasm to rip through me. “Fuck, coming!” I growl, pulling back a little so that Aidan doesn’t choke on my cum. Not that he’s entirely averse to that kind of play, but it’s not how I want to start the morning.
Once he’s swallowed every drop, Aidan gets back to his feet and I pull him into my arms, sealing my mouth to his. “You know what I just realized?” I murmur against his lips.
“What?”
“We’re getting married this year.”
Aidan grins, drawing his arms up to link around my neck. “Hell yeah. Can’t fucking wait to marry you.”
We stay under the shower spray for a while longer, just holding each other, and making out, and using some more of that soap to clean each other up. But then we eventually turn the water off and towel ourselves dry.
Leaving the bathroom, I disappear
into our walk-in closet, tugging on some sweatpants and a hoodie and grabbing some clothes for Aidan, who’s still out in the bedroom.
“Oh my god!”
“What? What is it?” I ask, rushing back into the bedroom, concerned by how freaked out Aidan just sounded. I find him standing just near the nightstand, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist, and staring at his phone with a horrified expression on his face. “Is something wrong? Is it your family.”
Mutely, he shakes his head and hands me the phone. I’m really worried now. Aidan’s rarely lost for words, but right now he looks like he can barely think, let alone talk. He’s clearly agitated and all I want is to make whatever it is that’s upset him go away.
Glancing at the phone screen, I see it’s a news article and as I read the heading the bottom drops out of my stomach. It reads: ELLIE FOX’S SEX TAPE HACK
Ellie Fox, former co-host of The Discovery Channel’s Extreme Trekkers and executive producer and co-host of Netflix’s much-anticipated Queermerica has been caught on camera engaging in explicit sex acts. Fox recently came out as transgender, earning much sympathy and support after speaking out about the discrimination she was subjected to from the Extreme Trekkers production team and her former agent. Her co-star, Aidan Kelly, who also recently came out as pansexual, has been one of Fox’s most vocal supporters; however, this latest incident could be a setback for the pair and for their new show, which had been gaining momentum in the lead up to its launch early this year.
Unable to read any more, I glance up at Aidan, who looks worryingly pale. “What the hell?”
He shakes his head slowly, as if coming out of a fog. “I need to call Ellie. She might not have seen this yet—I need to warn her.”
I hand Aidan his phone back so he can call Ellie, but before he can bring up her contact, the phone starts buzzing with an incoming call. Ellie. Aidan answers and puts her on speaker.
“Did you see?” she asks in a quiet voice I’ve never heard her use before.
Aidan sighs; his expression looks completely broken. “Yeah, honey. I saw.”
“Aidan, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened,” she sobs. “I guess someone hacked our Zoom hook-up.”
“Hey, listen to me—you don’t need to be sorry, okay? This isn’t your fault, El. Some asshole did this to you.” As bad as the situation is, I’m relieved to see Aidan no longer looks as though he’s about to throw up; it seems the protectiveness he feels toward Ellie has worked to clear his head somewhat.
“Hey, Ellie, it’s Ben,” I say into the phone. “Um, not to be a downer, but the person you were with on Zoom…any chance—”
“People,” she clarifies, cutting me off. “And no, of course it wasn’t them.” She lets out a groan of realization before she says, “Oh my god—Finn and Cass. Aidan, they’re teachers. They could get fired for this!”
“It won’t come to that,” Aidan reassures her. “I’m going to call Cole MacCaffrey—”
“The guy who helped us get out of our contracts?” Ellie asks.
“Yeah. He deals with this kind of thing all the time. It’ll be okay, honey. And I’ll make sure Finn and Cass’s names stay out of it.”
“Okay, thank you,” she says, sounding a lot more like herself.
They end the call and Aidan turns to me with a quizzical expression. “Who is Cass?”
I shrug, offering a wry grin. “And here I thought Ellie told you everything.”
He shakes his head, clearly bewildered. “I thought she and Finn were still having their stand off. So obviously I don’t know everything.”
21
Shay
* * *
“How’s Jamie’s granddad?” Jake asks over FaceTime when I call to check in.
“A lot better,” I say with a smile. “He’s coming home tomorrow, but it was a major surgery so he’s got a long recovery ahead of him. And he has to completely change his diet, which he’s not remotely thrilled about.”
Jake nods. “And how long do you think you guys will be over there for?”
I cringe. “We’re thinking at least another week. Jamie wants to help Edward get settled in at home and make sure his mom’s got a good routine going before we leave so Sara and Edward don’t kill each other. I know Finn has to go back to school, so I’m going to call Mom to see if she can come stay with you for a few days.”
Jake groans, his whole face screwing up in agitation. The exact reaction I was expecting. “Seriously? Come on, Shay, I’m seventeen. I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Well, all the legal shit I signed says otherwise.” God, it’s going to be so much easier once Jake turns eighteen and we don’t need to worry about these kinds of logistics. It’s not that I don’t trust him in the apartment or think he’s not capable of taking care of himself, it’s just that if I were to leave him alone with no adult present overnight and something did go wrong I could potentially lose guardianship, and that’s the last thing any of us want.
“But your mom?” Jake groans. “I mean, she’s a really nice lady but she’s always fussing over me and forcing me to eat.”
“Yes, that is a nightmare,” I deadpan. But I can kind of understand what he means; he’s a teenager, he wants his space. Unfortunately for Jake, my mom isn’t really one for boundaries. One time, after she discovered a dirty magazine under Liam’s bed, she had Da remove the door from our bedroom. I’m not sure what she thought that would accomplish; if she was trying to force us not to jerk off she was incredibly unsuccessful.
“Are you sure I can’t just come meet up with you in London?” Jake asks, his face lit up with hope.
I chuckle. “Nice try. You’re back at school next week, so no.”
Jake lets out a dispirited sigh. “Fine.”
Out the bus window, I catch sight of the post office that sits at the end of Jamie’s street. “I need to go,” I tell Jake. “I’m at my stop.”
I end the call and stand up; I collect my grocery bags from the empty seat next to me and move to the front of the bus, stepping off as it pulls up by the post office.
Jamie’s mom and granddad live just off a bustling high street, and evidently they’re friendly with the owners and workers at pretty much every single business on the street. I’ve lost count of the amount of times Jamie’s been asked questions regarding how his granddad is doing, or how his mother is holding up, or how things are going for him in the States, or how his American boyfriend is doing—usually while I’m right there. I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising considering Edward’s lived in this neighborhood his entire life, and worked on the high street as the local butcher until he retired only about five years ago, but for a native New Yorker I have to admit all this familiarity is a little disarming.
When I get inside the house, I once again find Jamie cleaning the kitchen; considering it’s usually me or Jake who clean up after him at our place, I’m not sure whether to be pleased or concerned about this new habit.
“Okay.” I dump the grocery bags on the counter and slip off my coat, tossing onto the back of a nearby chair. “I got all the stuff on the suggested dietary list—lean meat, egg whites, lots of leafy greens. And Blake sent me an email with a bunch of recipes he swears are both healthy and delicious.”
Jamie grins at me. “Yeah, he sent me the same email. That’s going to be the trick, convincing Granddad that not everything that’s good for you tastes horrid.” He shakes his head wryly. “He’s like a toddler sometimes when it comes to food. He’ll like something until he finds out it’s healthy and then all of a sudden it tastes like rubbish.”
I chuckle. “Right, so we’re going to convince him that despite having heart surgery we’re still going to let him eat junk. Meanwhile, we’ll secretly be feeding him healthy food.”
“Yep. Sounds like a plan,” Jamie deadpans.
“So, have you lads been thinking about when you’d like to get married?” Edward asks as he picks at his dinner the following night. Judging by the look
of dissatisfaction that crosses his face as he pokes his fork around at the baked salmon and green beans on his plate, our plan to win him over to heart-healthy eating hasn’t been successful so far.
“We haven’t really—”
“Actually,” I say, cutting Jamie off and offering him a soft smile. “I’ve been thinking maybe we should do it here. Summer next year?”
Jamie beams and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. “I love it!”
“Summer next year?” Edward asks, his bushy gray brows up near his hairline. “I could be dead by then.”
“Not if you eat what we tell you to and don’t sneak chips and sandwiches all the bloody time,” Sara growls.
22
Owen
* * *
It takes a moment after waking for me to realize I’m not in our New York townhouse, but rather at the Hamptons place. That explains the sound of the wind rattling the plantation shutters at the bedroom window.
Blake and I came over here after my shift last night because we need to get the place ready for the Social Services inspection tomorrow. If we do manage to become Ryder’s foster parents he’ll be visiting this house a lot, so of course they need to make sure it’s safe.
I can’t believe how close we are to making this a reality. The past week has been a complete blur of Social Service interviews, home visits, and the mandatory classes Blake and I needed to attend to become certified as foster parents. Normally we’d take those classes over a much longer period, but because Ryder’s health condition makes him a special case we were able to fast track everything.
Tomorrow is the last step. Once the social worker verifies our second home is a safe environment everything should be in order for Ryder to come home with us. And then, hopefully, one day, we can officially adopt him.