by Nicky James
Adrian giggled and slapped a hand to his mouth. “Oh, shit, you’re so fucking stoned, aren’t you? Come on.”
“I’m not,” I protested, but it came out kind of slurred together so maybe I was. Plus my feet didn’t work well and the cotton candy brain was messing with me. Yeah, he was right. I was pretty fucking stoned.
“Just don’t let go of my hand. We need to cross this whole damn airport to get to our bus, so I can’t lose you in Fa-la-la Funhouse Land. Got it.”
“Hold your hand. Got it.” I blinked at his cute face, still unable to shut down the smile.
He giggled again and beeped my nose. Somewhere deep under the cotton candy mess, I didn’t think that was something I would normally like, but I couldn’t find a single shit to give at the moment.
“Your giggle is adorable,” I told him instead then I fell onto his mouth and kissed him with less coordination than I planned. Whatever, he tasted good.
Adrian dislodged, his giggle shifting to a full belly laugh that made him snort. “I swear those were low dose. Half a pill next time. Come on. We don’t want to miss our bus.”
Adrian dragged me faster than my feet wanted to walk. I stumbled a few times, but instead of feeling bad, he just kept laughing at my poor coordination and inability to pay attention to anything for more than five seconds. I’d turned my boyfriend into a heartless bastard somehow. I couldn’t be more proud of him.
Miraculously, we made it to the bus terminal in one piece. Adrian came to a sudden stop, and I slammed into his back with an audible oomph.
“Whoa, easy, cowboy. Slow down. Before we go outside, I need you to gear up.”
“Speaking of cowboys, never, ever, ever, rever, evner.” I paused and rolled the word around my mouth. It didn’t sound right for some reason.
“Never, ever, rever, evner what?” Adrian asked, trying and failing to keep in a laugh.
“What was I talking about?”
“I have no idea. Stand still for a second. Don’t move.”
Adrian bent down and rifled through one of our bags, digging out my black hoodie and sunglasses. I hadn’t put them on earlier because we’d left in the dark. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of them.
He helped me into the hoodie and untangled my limbs when they got mixed up. Then he fit my shades on my face with another nose beep. I really needed to stop smiling like an idiot.
“There. My own little Dark Knight is ready to conquer the sun.”
“I love you,” I blurted, not sure where the compulsion to say that came from.
Adrian took my face between his hands and mashed our lips together. “I love you, too. And I’m proud of you. Are you ready?”
“Sure. Why not.”
I knew I should be panicking but the insulation surrounding my head made it impossible. I stared out the doors into the morning rush, noting the line up of buses and all the people running around in a mad dash to get where they needed to be. It was bright, and my heart tried to give a little jolt but mostly the fear was buried so deep inside it couldn’t reach me.
“Come on.”
Adrian tugged me out the doors and got us on the right bus. Once we’d settled in our seats, he encouraged me to lay my head on his shoulder.
“Sleep. It’s a long ride, and I bet that Ativan knocks you out.”
I didn’t think it would. I wasn’t tired just… happy and light and airy and floaty. And the sun was shining through the window. It cast a beam across my lap, and I held my hand in it, knowing somehow it was a huge deal.
“I’m doing it.”
“You are.” Adrian held his hand with mine until the bus gave a jolt and started to move and the beam of light vanished. “Now sleep, baby.”
Before we’d even pulled away from the airport, I closed my eyes and sighed.
As I drifted off, I started to sing with a face-splitting, goofy smile. “Hello, darkness my old friend…”
Adrian elbowed me in the gut. “Oh my God, you are such a dork. Shut up and go to sleep.”
And I did. I slept hard and long and deep, only waking when Adrian shook me three hours later.
“Baby, we’re here. You have to wake up.”
Adrian’s voice cut through the fog, and I slowly pulled myself to the surface. Groggy from the thick sludge coating my brain, it took me a few extra minutes to figure out where I was and what was going on.
The Ativan was wearing off. I still had a mild soupy feeling around me, but the delicious cotton candy effect was fading. When I opened my eyes and was greeted by the late morning sun shining through the bus window, I flinched and ducked my head to cover my face. There was enough medication still coursing through my body, I didn’t go into a panic attack, but I didn’t feel half as safe as I had hours ago.
“It’s a quick cab ride to your parents’ from here. There is a building where we can go inside and wait. Okay, baby?”
I squeezed my eyes closed and peeled through the layers of grime before I could answer. “Yeah. Okay. How far away?”
“About twenty feet. Keep your head down and face shielded. I’ll guide you.”
I nodded and accepted Adrian’s hand. This wasn’t going to be near as easy as it had been leaving the airport. Fuck those drugs were good. It’d been a cakewalk until now.
We raced from the bus to the station building at full speed, my hold on Adrian’s hand making him complain, but no amount of convincing me to loosen up worked. My heart had decided to lodge itself in my throat, and the spike of adrenaline I was missing earlier was firing off warning pulses through my bloodstream.
Almost there. I could do this.
I worked to stay focused on the prize: seeing my parents after seven years of being apart.
Inside the building, Adrian took a minute to walk me through my breathing until I waved him off and told him to get our cab.
As he tapped away on his phone, I dug my cigarettes out of my pocket, staring longingly at the pack and wishing I could brave a shady spot outside for one simple, calming smoke.
I peeked at the doors and knew right away, it was a pipe dream.
“Okay. Five minutes,” he said, shutting down his phone. “Call your mom and tell her we are around the corner.”
I dialed her number and buried my face in Adrian’s shoulder while I spoke with her, hiding from everything.
In no time, we were racing to a car—one without tinted windows. My insides rattled the whole way. My knees bounced and fire ants burned under my skin. My temperature rose the longer we were exposed. That burning sensation like I was on fire grew and grew. I knew from therapy it was in my mind, but it didn’t feel fabricated.
Sweat trickled down my brow, and I whimpered once before stifling a second. Adrian wrapped his arms around me and tugged me against his chest, covering my face and blocking my view.
“Almost there. You’re doing it.”
I closed my eyes tight and clung to him. I knew if I let go, I would drown. Adrian wouldn’t let me. He wouldn’t. He was my rock.
Before long, the car came to a jarring stop, and Adrian tapped my shoulder. “We’re here. Come on. Your mom is at the door. She knows, baby.”
The first tears burned in my eyes. I wouldn’t cry. I’d come this far. I wouldn’t break down now.
With a deep breath, I used the last push of strength I could muster to get me to the finish line. Adrian took care of our bags and paid the driver while I made a dash to the house. It was only once I crossed the threshold and the door was safely closed behind me that I turned to the woman who’d been standing and waiting for us.
My breath caught in my throat and those damn tears blurred my vision. Seven years had made her older, but I’d know my mother anywhere. I’d inherited her red hair and pale, freckled skin, her same smile and indignant attitude toward life in general.
She held a trembling hand to her mouth, her pale green eyes—so much like mine—filling and overflowing.
I broke. All the tension and stress from the day overwhe
lmed me, and my tears trickled down my face as my bottom lip trembled. “Mom.”
“Rory.” She dove into my arms, engulfing me in the tightest most familiar embrace.
Seven fucking years.
I cried. We both cried for a long, long time.
When we were able to finally tear apart from one another, I wiped the wet streaks from my face, sniffled, and searched for Adrian’s hand, yanking him against my side. “Mom,” I croaked, my voice raw from all the tears. “This is Adrian. My boyfriend. The love of my fucking life.”
Adrian elbowed me in the gut and giggled, the sound going right to my heart. “Don’t swear in front of your mom,” he hissed.
I chuckled and kissed his temple. “I couldn’t have come this far without his support. Adrian, this is my mom.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Adrian said, offering out his hand.
Mom was having none of it. She tugged Adrian into an equally tight hug and cried just as hard. “Thank you for being in my son’s life. For helping him come home again. It means everything.”
All the struggles and obstacles I’d needed to overcome to get this far were made worth it just seeing my mom again. Being held in her arms and surrounded by her love. Maybe I wasn’t perfect yet, but this just proved how strong I could be if I tried. Every day was a challenge, but I’d keep facing them one at a time.
With Adrian by my side to cheer me on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Krew
“Sammi baby!” I squealed, bending down to accept my sweet tawny Persian into my arms.
I smooshed our faces together and nuzzled into his thick fur as he welcomed me with a loud purr and a headbutt.
“I know, baby. I was gone for so long. I missed you. Yes, I did. I missed snuggling your cute face. I love you.” Then I kissed him until it pissed him off and he tried to squirm away from my hold.
I released him into Max’s arms since he was holding the cat carrier and I knew he’d want to say hello too.
Max greeted him with the same enthusiastic high-pitched voice and goo-goo-talk because I’d trained him in my crazy cat-loving ways, and he was officially one of us now. Us meaning, the clan of gay men who couldn’t get enough of cats.
Max make puckering kissy faces at Samson before gently encouraging him into his carrier and securing the latch.
“Do you want us to take Jackson too?” I asked Rigger.
Jackson was more skittish and was probably hiding under Rigger’s bed—or under one of the million piles of clothes and junk laying around. Holy shitballs, it was a disaster in his apartment.
I caught Max scanning the place with a quirked brow, but he remained silent, diverting his attention to Samson instead who’d decided he didn’t like being locked up.
“No, it’s okay. He’s good company, actually, and I talked to Rory and Adrian and told them I’d keep him until they got home. I don’t mind.”
Rigger was suspiciously quieter than usual, and his gaze flickered to Max more than once. Not in a nervous way but in a way that was almost seeking or begging for Max to pay him attention. It was weird—but Rigger had a tendency to be weird, so I let it go.
“How’s the application going? Decided anything yet?”
“Krew.” Max’s tone made me bite the inside of my cheek. We’d agreed in the car ride from Toronto not to bring up Rigger’s college choices, but the atmosphere was thick with… something… and I didn’t know what else to say. I was Rigger’s friend, probably his best friend, and it felt like the right thing to ask even though it’d been a thorn in my side for days.
“Um…” Again, his pleading eyes turned to Max, but Max refused to meet them. “I’ll sort it out. It’s my decision to make, not yours.” Then he chuckled sadly and shrugged, diverting his gaze to the messy apartment.
I slid my gaze to his overflowing coffee table and the scattering of papers covering its surface. Beside them were stacks of college pamphlets and information brochures about various courses.
I knew how badly Rigger had been wanting to do this, but I also knew deciding to get there and taking this step forward was nearly killing him. Did I understand his indecision? No, not really. But I sympathized with my friend. His family—mostly his asshole older brother—had scrutinized every decision Rigger had made since he was a teenager. Even though he rarely saw them anymore, their harsh words had cut deep.
Max must have sensed I was about to offer my help. He cleared his throat and brushed my arm. “Come on. I have plans for us today, and Rigger has his own stuff to work on.”
“Okay.”
I pouted—briefly—and hugged Rigger extra tight. “Thanks for watching Sammi.”
“Any time, baby. You know I love that little sweetheart.”
I pressed a quick kiss to Rigger’s cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Max carried Samson down to the car while I trailed behind, frowning and wondering what I was missing. Rigger was never that subdued. I knew he’d never quite gotten over Max’s and my relationship. I knew there was jealousy woven into his remarks at times, but I’d never seen him look so… seeking? Needy? Lost? Almost like he was begging Max for something.
“What did you say to him on the phone when you guys talked? I feel like you broke my Rigger.”
Max chuckled. “I didn’t break him. I gave him what he needed.”
“Oh my God, I swear to fuck if you had phone sex with him I’m gonna be so pissed off. Not because that’s kinda like cheating but because I’ve been trying to make you dirty-talk on the phone for months now and it would be so unfair!”
“I’m not even going to play this ridiculous game with you. You know better than that.”
Max placed Samson in the back seat and wrapped the seat belt around his carrier—because I was neurotic like that and needed to know my baby was safe. We piled into the car and Max didn’t say more on the subject.
“Well, if not phone sex, what did you say? What did Rigger need? I mean, at that point he needed a good shake or slap across the face to snap him out of his freak out but that’d be some fancy phone-work if you managed that from Alberta.”
Max chuckled. “Do you think Rigger might agree to a blind date?”
I blinked and rattled my head. “Way to change the subject. No. Never. Rigger won’t date. It involves too many decisions. He’s much better bending over and just letting a random guy plow him when he feels the urge. He’s the perfect little bottom slut. Very responsive. Guys love that.”
“Hmm.”
Max fell silent again as we turned onto our street. The previous summer, we’d moved into a gorgeous little gray brick house on Hudson Avenue with a generous front lawn, white framed windows, and an actual white picket fence. We’d made it a home.
“You really aren’t going to tell me what you said to Rigger, are you?”
Shutting off the car, Max glanced in my direction before opening his door and pausing. “He needed assertiveness. Direction. A firm hand to settle the wild flailing of his mind. When we were in Alberta, I helped him the only way I could. I can’t give him what he needs. But I know someone who might. Hence the question, would Rigger go on a blind date?”
I considered this and a teeny tiny part of me was almost jealous that Max had gone there with Rigger. I knew Max’s background in BDSM clubs. Sometimes, he used those same dominating strategies on me and they sent a thrill through my blood even though our relationship didn’t really venture in that direction. But they felt personal. And I didn’t think I liked sharing them with my best friend.
But, as always, Max must have known where my mind strayed. “He was upsetting you. No one is allowed to upset you. Your heart is big, Krew, and you hate when Rigger is upset, but you don’t know when to set limits and back off, and you sacrifice your happiness to try and help him every time.”
I ducked my head to my lap and fiddled with my fingers.
“Look at me, boy.”
When I didn’t, his fingers touc
hed the underside of my chin and drew my head up.
“So stubborn sometimes. You mean everything to me. Your health and welfare are my first concern. Seeing anyone upset you makes me bloodthirsty.”
I couldn’t help cracking a smile.
He chuckled. “Yes, you heard me. I’m protective and madly in love with you, so stop fretting. I see something in Rigger I don’t even think he’s aware of. I want to help him so that his problems don’t land on your shoulders. One word, and I’ll back off.”
“You can help him?”
“Possibly. I’m pretty good at reading people. Rigger needs something I can’t give him, but I know a man who might be able to help, and the more I think about it, the more certain I am that they would be perfect together.”
“Then I’ll try and work on him and convince him to go on a date.”
Max leaned in and kissed me softly. “Good boy.”
I preened like a cat hearing his praise and smiled like a proud idiot.
“Now,” Max said, sitting back. “Let’s get Samson situated. I have a surprise for you.”
And because I loved surprises, I hopped out of the car and collected Samson’s carrier and followed Max into the house.
Samson was happy to be home. He made three rounds of the living room, slinked into the bedroom and kitchen, climbed his perch by the back patio window which looked out into our backyard, and sniffed his litterbox. When I offered him a can of food, he rubbed himself in a figure eight between my legs and purred at top volume.
I watched him eat while Max disappeared somewhere else in the house. Max had an office adjacent to our bedroom. It was his place to work on business stuff when he was at home, so if he went in there, I generally tried not to bother him.
I didn’t see where he’d gone, but I was content spending time with Samson while he did whatever he needed to do. I couldn’t wait for kitty cuddles later. Samson liked to sneak into our bedroom late at night and share my pillow. Max wasn’t a fan. His pillow was off limits to felines—with me, he rarely argued when I slipped over in the middle of the night for cuddles, confiscating most of the space.