“God, Matteo. Fuck,” he said when he’d ripped his mouth from mine. I licked the long column of his neck and bit under his sharp jaw.
“That’s what I was just thinking.” My hands found his ass, squeezing the globes in my palms. “Here or the bedroom?”
Something dark darted through Flynn’s eyes before he took a shaky breath and said, “Bedroom.”
We hurried down the hall and toppled onto the queen mattress, mouths finding each other as soon as we quit bouncing. Our hands were everywhere, and before long, we both had our cocks in the other’s grip, stroking and teasing as our tongues twisted around each another. Sweat dripped down my back under my shirt as pure pleasure skated upward from my groin. I felt Flynn’s climax surge through his shaft seconds before mine overtook me, and for several long moments, we lay panting, facing one another, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling.
“That was…intense,” I finally managed to say. Flynn nodded and rolled onto his back, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. We wiped off our hands and everything else that had gotten jizzed on, then I clasped his hand.
“That wasn’t exactly how I’d wanted that to go.”
“No?” Flynn seemed distracted.
I rose onto my elbow and looked down at his face, handsome features lax from release suddenly tightening under my perusal. “No. I wanted to fuck you.”
Color suffused Flynn’s face, which was cute. He’d always been a blusher. I pulled his T-shirt to the side and kissed his shoulder. “Give me a minute, and I can make it happen.”
“Matteo,” Flynn said softly. “We need to talk.”
I lifted my head to look at him again. He was staring at the ceiling.
“Okay.” I scooted away a little to give him space. “What about?”
“About this. Us.” He met my gaze, eyes glossy. “What are we doing?”
Of course I’d known we’d have to talk about this eventually. I had just hoped to put it off for a while longer. I sighed and bunched a pillow under my head.
“Having fun?” I said, and immediately wanted to pull the words back into my mouth and swallow them.
Flynn sat up and tucked his cock back into his pants.
“I shouldn’t have let it happen,” he said. “I knew better.”
I reached for him, his skin warm and the hairs of his arm soft against my palm.
“Has it really been so bad?”
He turned on me, eyes glittering with anger. “No. It’s been great. But it’s pointless, and, fuck, Matty, it’s not just me now. I have Coop to think about.”
I recoiled, hurt. “You don’t want me around your son?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not that. He’s a kid. He’s already getting attached to you.”
I released a breath. “Good. He’s a great kid.”
Flynn huffed and scooted off the bed. “Put your junk away, would you? I can’t talk to you with your cock hanging out.” He walked out of the room. When I followed a moment later, pants straight, I found him in the kitchen pulling a couple of beers out of the fridge. He handed one to me. I cracked it open and drank without tasting, something twisting in my gut.
You knew this was coming. Don’t pretend like you didn’t.
But what came out of my mouth was, “Flynn, I like you; you like me. Coop likes me, and I like him…I don’t see the problem.”
Flynn’s jaw firmed, and again I was struck at how much he’d grown up over the past several years. At least one of us had.
“The problem is my kid’s going to be heartbroken when you aren’t around anymore.”
I raised a brow. “Where am I going? You’re the one trying to push me away.”
“For God’s sake, Matteo, stop being obtuse. Or are you trying to be an ass?” Flynn turned away and walked into the living room, leaving me to follow again. “We can’t keep seeing each other. If we do, we’ll keep fucking, and it’ll be great until it isn’t anymore because some of us need more to our lives than sex.” He swung around to face me again. “Get it now? Yeah, it’s the same old fight. Because you said it yourself—nothing’s changed, Matteo. Seven years have gone by, and we’re still arguing about the same thing. I’m saving for a house. I want to give Cooper a family. Can you tell me that’s what you want too?”
It was what I wanted. It might not have been in the past, but it was now. But—God, I knew he was right. Of course he was. It’s so easy to delude yourself when presented with everything you’ve been missing. But Nonna—
Flynn’s eyes held mine, waiting for an answer, and beneath the anger, I thought I glimpsed a speck of hope. That hurt more than knowing he was breaking this off. That it was over. Again. And this time it had to be for good.
Silence reigned as I allowed myself to imagine for just one moment telling him I chose him. The shock on his face that would slowly morph into happiness. The kiss. Taking him to bed and making love. Going to pick up Cooper together in the morning.
I wanted to give him that more than anything, but it would be a lie.
As that spark of hope died in his eyes, I said, “What I want and what I can have are two different things. You know that. At least, as long as Nonna’s alive. But she’s old, Flynn. She could go in a week. Or a month.”
“Or she could live for years to come. I can’t do it, Matteo. You’re right. She’s old and you have the rest of your life to live. So tell her the truth.”
Slowly, I shook my head. “I can’t. It would kill her.”
Flynn’s face fell. Like a house of cards—just collapsed. He turned away from me. “Goodbye, Matteo.”
Putting down the beer that was still in my hand, I took a step toward him.
“Don’t,” he barked out, and I froze. Softer, he added as he looked over his shoulder, “Please don’t.” His eyes filled with tears, and something inside me broke into a million pieces.
“I just want to hold you.” My voice was a rasp.
“I can’t do it again. I can’t, Matteo.” He curled into himself. “No long goodbye this time. I can’t do it again.”
But I was a bastard and couldn’t keep myself from touching him. It was as though we were attached by a thread that wouldn’t break. The spool was long and stretched thousands of miles, but it was there.
“Please, Matteo!” Flynn’s voice broke and his lip trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away from my hand. “If you ever loved me, just leave and don’t contact me again.”
And because I had loved him, intensely, and still did, I abruptly turned and walked out of the apartment, shutting the door behind me. As I stood there taking deep breaths of cold air, hands gripping the iron railing, a low, terrible keen rose from behind the door. I automatically turned toward the sound, hand hovering over the doorknob.
But no. I couldn’t do that to him.
I dropped my hand.
I’d already done enough damage to last a lifetime.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Flynn
A lone cry, desolate and sorrowful, crossed my lips before I could clamp them shut. I managed to hold back any more sound until I heard the roar of the Harley fade into the distance. Then I let the sobs out, each one racking my body harder than the last until I had nothing left in me.
I wound up in bed, covers pulled over my head, cold all over and so very tired. But sleep wouldn’t come. All night, I lay listening to the sound of traffic outside the window, eyes stinging. It was true: New York City never slept. It should be comforting, but it wasn’t.
Back in California, I’d had an apartment near the beach. Ricco, a guy I’d shared the final foster home with when we were both in our teens and who had contacted me about starting a business, would open the windows and listen to the surf at night. It was faint, as our building was a few blocks from the water, but it was there all the same. Nice. Lulling. Nothing like the horns and ambulances and constant commotion here.
Soon I would have enough money saved to put a down payment on a house. And when
that time came, I was going to find one out of the city, even if that meant a commute or moving my shop. I was going to make it work. Cooper deserved to hear crickets and birds, not construction and chaos.
It’s not that I hated the city. A part of me loved it. I appreciated the people when I was in a certain mood, and I loved the culture and diversity. Everything about Cali had been too pretty, too fake. Ricco had met a girl soon after we set up shop and hadn’t seemed to mind much when I’d told him I was moving back home. He and the girl had started a weed farm. I’d gotten a Christmas card from him just the day before telling me they’d gotten married.
When the first rays of sun streaked the sky, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. My head hurt.
Feeling fresher but no better, I sat down at my small kitchen table and ate a yogurt. A text from Jess said everything was good and Cooper was sleeping in. I messaged back that I would be there about noon to pick him up and that I would be feeding him lunch. I spent the morning going through inventory in the shop. Lunchtime rolled around, and I went to get Coop.
When I pulled up the car outside the townhouse, Gloria was sitting on the front stoop watching Coop squat over the sidewalk drawing with chalk. Coop’s face lit up when he saw me, and I scooped him into my arms and kissed his cheek before blowing a big raspberry into his neck. Over his shoulder, my eyes met Gloria’s, and I could see I wasn’t fooling her.
“Thanks for watching him,” I said. I looked at my son. “What do you say to Aunt Glo?”
“Thank you, Aunt Glo!”
“We loved having you here, baby,” Gloria said to Coop.
“Where’s Jess?” I asked.
“On the phone. Call me later, okay?”
I nodded, sure she was burning with curiosity but also concerned about me. I gave her a small smile before taking Coop to the car.
We went to McDonalds because Coop loved it and seeing him smile was the only thing keeping me from crying. We ate, and I listened to him chat about everything he’d done with his “aunts.”
“What did you do, Daddy?”
“Oh, I caught up on some reading and did inventory in the store. I missed you, champ.”
“I missed you too.” Cooper shoved an apple slice into his mouth.
Because I dreaded going back to our apartment, I took Coop shopping after lunch. We stayed out until his mood soured to a point that I had no choice but to head home or he’d have a breakdown in a store. He fell asleep in the car and didn’t even wake when I carried him inside and put him in his bed for a nap.
God, each day stretched ahead of me like infinite mountains to climb, and I knew from experience the only way to do it was one step at a time. Knowing I had made it through the misery once before only to put myself right back to square one seven years later made me want to throw something. Walking past the shelves, I paused to run my finger over the Amethyst wand.
“I could use some positivity right about now,” I told it.
My eyes landed on the Adele CD on the shelf. I picked it up and looked at it a long moment before opening the front door. I’d planned to throw it onto the concrete porch and stomp on it, but I stopped when I came face to face with an unexpected visitor.
“Tyson.” I stared up at him. I’d forgotten how big he was. With arms that look like they could rip a tree out of the earth and a neck that must be difficult to find shirt collars for, he was pretty formidable. The only other man I’d met as big as he was was Axel Bryant.
Tyson wore a gray Ralph Loren suit that pulled at his muscles when he moved, a white shirt with a red silk tie, and black Steve Madden oxfords. The diamond earring he always wore in his right ear sparkled in the sun.
“Hey,” he said in his low rumbling voice. “You’re a difficult man to get hold of. Can I come in?”
I stepped back, thinking what a bitch the universe was sending him here the day after I’d ended things with Matteo.
“Coop’s taking a nap.” I don’t know why I said it, as Tyson probably remembered my son slept like the dead.
“I’ve missed the little guy,” Tyson said.
I closed the door. “Um. Have a seat. Beer?”
“Can’t. I’m on duty.”
“You aren’t in uniform.”
Tyson grinned. He had a great smile, even and white next to his rich brown skin. “I made detective a month ago.”
“Congratulations.” I crossed to the kitchen and filled two glasses with ice and water from the filtered tap. Coming back into the living room, I handed him one.
“Thanks,” he said. He sipped it, dark eyes running over me in a way that brought back every time we’d slept together. I sat down in one of the chairs.
“Why have you been trying to get hold of me?” I asked, figuring blunt was the way to go.
Tyson sighed and ran a hand over his closely cropped curls, pink tongue licking over generous bottom lip. I’d always been attracted to dangerous-looking types. The fact Tyson worked for the police force had been a turn-on. I tried not to notice how the material of his trousers stretched over his big thighs and his large package tucked to the left. I tried not to think of Matteo.
“I’ve been doing some soul-searching,” he said. I couldn’t imagine Tyson spending any amount of time searching his soul for any reason, but I waited for him to explain.
He looked me in the eyes. “I’ve missed you, Flynn.”
That was unexpected. I figured he’d try to seduce me or tell me we should get back together because Tyson McCormick never suggested anything, it was always about what he wanted.
“We weren’t right for each other, Tyson,” I said.
“I disagree.” When I started to say something, he held up a big hand. “No. I get why you’re saying it, but here’s the thing: I acted like an ass when I was with you. I know that now. I knew it then, but…” He shook his head. “This is going to make me sound like a real bastard, but I didn’t care. I do now though. I’ve been working on myself. It surprised me how hard it was on me when we split. I want to change. Be a better person. For you.”
“You shouldn’t do anything for someone else. If you want to change, you should do it for you, not for me.” I drank my water just to have something to do with my hands during this uncomfortable and completely unexpected conversation.
“I know it will take me a while. I’m in therapy, Flynn. Me.” He laid a hand on his chest. I noticed he wore a gold ring on his right hand that had the NYC police department’s insignia and the word detective on it. “I’ve never thought about being in therapy in my life. But what you said to me really hit home.”
I met his gaze, confused. “What I said?”
“You called me a narcissistic asshole. You don’t remember that?”
I shrugged. I probably had said that.
“Well, I remember it. It changed my life. You know why?”
“Why?” I asked.
“That’s exactly what I used to call my old man. And the thought that I could be just like him—it ran right over me like a freight train.” He looked at me earnestly. “I don’t want to be that man. I started therapy, and I began to change. It’s the whole reason I made detective. My superior told me she’d noticed the growth in me over the past few years and was impressed. All because of you, Flynn.”
I stared at him a moment before draining my water and setting the glass down on the floor. “Well. If I helped you, I’m glad, Ty. But it’s been years, and frankly, I’ve moved on.”
“You don’t have a boyfriend.”
My brows went up. “How do you know that?”
“Because I came ‘round your store a month or so ago and that guy who works for you told me.”
“Joey?” He must have thought Tyson was a prospective date. In fact, now that I thought about it, I remembered him saying someone had been asking about me.
“I’ve been sort of seeing someone since,” I told him.
“Sort of?”
I let out a breath. Matteo and I were over. “Look, it
doesn’t matter because you and I weren’t right for each other.”
“You won’t even give me a chance? It’s been three years. People do change. How many guys have been so into you they’ve come back after three years just to ask for a chance?”
My stomach soured. Exactly zero. Certainly not Matteo Costa. I’d broken things off with him twice, and he’d never come after me. He may have wanted to talk, but our falling into bed together had been all me. I’d played our song. I’d asked him to dance. I may have even kissed him first—I couldn’t remember now. But it didn’t matter; I’d wanted him—had to have him, and he’d gone along with it. And when I’d told him I didn’t want to see him again, he’d gone along with that too.
“What if we start out as friends?” Tyson asked. “Then you can see I mean what I’m saying.”
“I guess that would be okay,” I said. Tyson wasn’t a bad guy. I just hadn’t liked how he’d always wanted things his way. I guess I’d been partially to blame because I’d let him boss me around.
And I had promised myself recently I was going to try harder to have friends in my life. “Just friends,” I reiterated.
Tyson’s smile was contagious, the deep dimple popping up in his left cheek. “That’s terrific. I have two tickets to see Aladdin on Broadway. I remember how much you love the shows. Friday night?”
“That sounds a lot like a date,” I said warily.
“Friends go to see musicals together. I promise I won’t try to feel you up.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. And I really didn’t want to spend next Friday night moping around thinking about Matteo. “Okay. But I’ll meet you there. I’ll have to ask Gloria and Jess to babysit. If they can’t, I won’t be able to go.”
“Okay. You still got my number?”
I shook my head. Tyson gave it to me, and I programmed it into my phone.
He stood. “I’d better be going. I’m following up on a case near here.” He paused by the door. “It was good seeing you again, Flynn. I’ll look forward to Friday night.”
The Single Dad and his Soul Mate Page 13