“Like what?” she asks, grabbing the bone like a dog who hasn’t chewed one in weeks.
“That it takes time to fully accept who you are as a person when you’ve spent years hiding the truth and that sometimes you need to take a step back to fully appreciate everything good you have in your life.”
“It sounds like you had a very close friendship with Mr. Hayes. Was it ever anything more?”
I plaster a smile on my face and use humor to deflect when I really want to throttle her. “Now, now, Cherie, you know I’m here to discuss my new book, not talk about my love life.”
The audience chuckles, and I take another sip of my water, praying she drops the subject.
“Just indulge me one final question,” she says, and I guess no one up there is listening to me today.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Such a simple question with a simple answer, and yet it’s like she’s cut a line straight through my middle and is asking me to rip my heart out and serve it to her on a silver platter.
“I can tell from your expression that you have,” she adds, smiling encouragingly at me.
“One time,” I admit.
“It ended badly?” she surmises.
“Something like that.” My chest heaves, and I don’t know why I say what I say next. Maybe I’ve a sixth sense that he’s watching and it might be the only opportunity I get to tell him these things. Or I just need to admit these things out loud for myself.
“He was the love of my life, and losing him broke me yet rebuilt me at the same time. I know I’m the man I am today because he helped shape my life in so many different ways. Things ended because I messed up. I abandoned him when he needed me the most, and I was too wrapped up in my own stuff to see what was in front of my eyes.”
The audience is waiting with bated breath for me to go on, and I can tell I’ve captured the attention of every person sitting in those seats. “He was always so self-assured, so confident, and he was my rock. I thought he was infallible. That nothing fazed him. But I forgot he was still human. And I didn’t know it at the time, because I was still a novice when it came to relationships, but there were times when he was low and he needed me to lift him up, like he’d done for me.”
“It sounds like you never got over him,” Cherie says, looking as enchanted as the audience.
“I haven’t.” I stare right into the camera, speaking directly to Austen. “I still love him as much as I did back then, and I’m stronger today. My eyes are fully open, and I have the confidence to go after what I want now. And what I want is him. It will always be him. Even if he never gives me a second chance, I know he is the only man for me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Austen
“Your guest is in meeting room A12 on level one,” Shelby, one of the stadium coordinators, tells me when I exit the press conference after the game. She was the only one I trusted to escort Keaton from the VIP area, where he watched the game, to a private room where we can talk.
“Thanks, Shelby. I’ll be right there.” She hovers, chewing on her lip, and I arch a brow. “Was there something else?”
“Do you think he’s really gay?” she whispers, leaning in. “Because I heard he’s into women too.”
An amused grin spreads across my mouth. “Nope. Definitely gay.”
“Well, darn it.” She looks genuinely disappointed. “He’s so hot, and he was really sweet and polite. I could see myself as a cougar with the right guy.” She waggles her brows, grinning.
Shelby recently went through a bitter divorce, and she’s on the dating scene for the first time in ten years. She keeps me entertained with her stories every time I see her.
“I swear all the good ones are either too young, taken, or gay.”
“I’ll be sure to pass on your regards to Keaton,” I tease.
“Oh.” Her eyes light up, and she places her hand on my arm. “Could you get me his autograph? You’ll have my undying love for eternity.”
I can’t contain my grin. “I think I can manage that, but why didn’t you just ask him yourself?”
“I was too starstruck, and I have a feeling I was staring at his mouth for too long, so I got all tongue-tied, and I basically fled from the room.”
I burst out laughing, pulling the older woman in for a hug. “You brighten up my days, Shelby. Don’t ever change.”
“Right back at ya.” She tweaks my cheeks. “You’re still my favorite.”
“Word to the wise. Don’t let Colton hear you say that. I don’t think his ego could handle it.”
“Handle what?” the man himself says, coming up behind me.
“That’s my cue to leave. Good night, boys.” She waggles her fingers before disappearing out the door.
“He here?” Colton asks, lowering his voice.
“Yeah. He’s upstairs.” I run my hands through my hair, fighting a sudden bout of nerves.
Colton chuckles. “He’s still the only man to ever ruffle your feathers.”
I flip him the bird. “He’s the only man who’s ever mattered.”
Colton feigns a heart attack.
“Besides you and my brother,” I add, because I don’t know if I’ve ever told Colton how much he means to me. “I hope you know how important your friendship is to me.”
“I know, brother.” He pulls me into a manly hug. “Now stop deflecting and get upstairs and put that man out of his misery.”
“Is it crazy to feel scared when you know everything you’ve ever wanted is in arm’s reach?”
Colton slaps me on the back. “Nah, man. There’d be something wrong if you weren’t scared, but Austen Hayes doesn’t run from things that frighten him. He barrels headfirst toward them.” A devilish glint appears in his eyes. “I should probably warn Kennedy there’s a tornado heading his way, but that would be a lot less fun.”
“Am I doing the right thing?” I ask.
“Don’t have a crisis of confidence now, dude. You love him. He loves you. The stars have finally aligned, yada, yada.” He shoves me toward the door. “Go get your man. Maybe if you finally get laid, you’ll be more bearable to live with.”
“I’m evicting you,” I tease.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he retorts. “See you in the morning,” he adds, walking backward out the door. “I’m gonna crash with Jennings. Give you guys some privacy.”
I take the elevator to the first level and walk along the hallway toward the room where my future awaits me. Not stopping to second-guess myself anymore—because my gut knows this is right—I push into the room and come to an immediate standstill.
Keaton is staring out the window at the dark Baltimore night sky, standing regally, with his hands behind his back, his legs slightly parted, and his shoulders upright. I noticed it the other day, and again during the TV interview, that he holds himself with much more confidence these days, and it’s clear he’s grown into his skin and become the man I always knew he would be.
A burst of pride hits me in the chest, and though I know the time we were apart has undoubtedly changed both of us, I know it was the way things were meant to happen.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me all night or tell me why I’m here?” Keats says, slowly turning around to face me.
He’s wearing a fitted blue-gray designer shirt that stretches tight across his chest and hugs his muscular biceps. That’s another thing that’s changed. He’s bulked up a little more, and he’s never looked sexier. From watching his show, I know he’s added to his ink too, but his right arm is still tattoo-free, and I hope I know the reason why. His toned legs are encased behind dark jeans, and he’s wearing navy-blue Vans. The musky, woodsy scent of his cologne takes me back, and emotion creeps up on me, threatening to overpower me.
“You know why you’re here,” I say, taking a step closer.
“Because you invited me. Put me up in the VIP box with the other WAGs.” His lips twitch in amusement before his expression sobers again. �
��And now you’ve asked to meet me up here, away from everyone. So, am I still your secret or not, Austen?” he challenges.
“You’ve always been my secret,” I say, stepping even closer. “My secret weapon,” I add, staring into his beautiful blue eyes, instantly being swept up in their hidden depths. “Because it’s you who’s driven me to achieve all I’ve accomplished these past two years.”
“Me?” Disbelief threads through his tone, and I don’t blame him.
“Did you think I could ever forget you? That you weren’t the biggest inspiration for everything I’ve done in my life from the moment I met you?”
“What’s going on here, Austen?” His fingers twitch at his side, and I know he’s dying to touch me as much as I’m dying to touch him.
“I watched your interview,” I tell him. “And I felt like a pussy for turning you away in the parking lot that day.”
“Why did you?”
“Because I’m scared, dude.”
His jaw slackens, and I smile. “I’m not infallible, remember,” I tease, giving in to my craving to touch him as I lift my hand to his face. I cup his cheek. “I’m human, and I’ve always been weak when it comes to you.”
“What are you scared of exactly?” he asks, leaning into my hand, as his fingers wrap around my wrist.
“Losing you again,” I say. “Because I barely survived it the first time. If we are doing this, I’ve got to know you’re all in this time, Keaton.”
He moves in, lacing his fingers in mine as his chest brushes against my chest. “I’m all in, Austen. I’m finally exactly where I need to be, and I know who I am and who I want to be with. No one else could ever compare to you. You have always been it for me.”
I pull him into a hug, and we hold one another tight, neither of us talking, just holding one another and savoring the feeling of being back in each other’s arms. There is so much I have missed about our relationship, and moments like this remind me how it’s the simple things I’ve craved the most.
Like just being able to hold him at will.
Hugs are undervalued in my opinion. The power of a good hug should never be underestimated.
Right now, holding the love of my life in my arms feels like the best feeling in the world. My arms tighten around him, and I squeeze my eyes shut, just absorbing the feel of him against my body, how comforting his arms are around my back, and how fucking delicious he smells.
I allow myself another few minutes of self-indulgence before I reluctantly break our hug, easing back a little so I’m staring into his eyes. Eyes that return my hold confidently. Eyes that convey he’s experiencing everything I’m experiencing.
“You have always been it for me too, Keats. I knew the day we broke up that it would kill me, even if it was the right thing to do. You needed to find who you were without me, and I needed to focus on football. Doing the long-distance thing, with all that stress and uncertainty, would’ve ruined us in the long run. And I was so hurt. Disappointed at how easily you had shut down on me. How easily you believed Gia’s lies.”
“I was a fool.” His hands drop to my waist. “But you were right. I wasn’t ready. I see that now, and though I’ve hated our separation, I’m glad you forced it.” He presses his forehead against mine. “I’m glad you had the strength to do what was needed because we wouldn’t be here now if you hadn’t.” He lifts his head, piercing me with eyes that are shielding nothing. “You saved us, and I have no regrets.”
“You’ve always been the only one, Keats. And I have never stopped loving you.”
“I’ve got to ask. Has there been anyone else in the time we were apart?”
I shake my head. “I went on a few dates, but my heart was never in it, and I didn’t sleep with any of them.”
Air whooshes out of his mouth, and then he smiles. “Thank fuck. That was my biggest fear. That you’d meet someone else and I’d cease to matter.”
“Fuck, Keats.” My eyes drop to his mouth before returning to his eyes. “There is no universe where that’d ever happen. No one exists for me but you.”
“I haven’t slept with anyone since you,” he admits, and my shoulders relax.
I didn’t realize how much that had been bothering me subconsciously. “Thank fuck I don’t have to put the beat down on any guy for touching what’s always been mine.”
“So much for making me fight,” he teases, kissing one corner of my mouth.
“I’m done fighting,” I whisper over his lips. “We’ve spent enough time apart. Now it’s time to truly start living our lives.”
He closes the gap between us, fusing his mouth with mine as we taste one another again. His tongue licks against the seam of my lips, and I willingly open for him. Our tongues meet in languid strokes, and I quickly get lost in his kiss, because it’s like coming home. I’ve never forgotten how good it feels to kiss this man because his kisses have always had the power to slay me.
It’s as if we’ve never spent one second apart.
The past is gone, and all I see are endless moments like this in our future.
He grabs the back of my head, and I grip the nape of his neck as we kiss, over and over again, clinging to one another, hands roaming, mouths devouring, and I never want to stop.
But I have to, because I need to get this man into my bed, and it can’t wait.
“Come home with me?” I whisper in his ear.
“Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I need you, man.”
I peck his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
His words imprint on my soul for all eternity, and a serene sense of peace infiltrates every part of my body. It’s deep contentment, and I know Keaton is my endgame. I’ve always known it, but now I live and breathe it, because there are no more obstacles in our path. There is nothing stopping us from living our best lives.
Together.
We hug again, and our mutual joy is like a blazing sun, burning bright, high in the sky, obvious for all to see.
Taking his hand, I lead him out of the room and out of the building. We hold hands, grinning at one another as we head toward the parking lot.
I slow down before we come out of the tunnel. “There will be press here.”
“I know.” He raises our conjoined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of my knuckles. “No more hiding, Austen. It’s time to shout it from the rooftops.”
A burst of laughter spurts from my throat, and tears prick the back of my eyes. I clasp his hand more firmly. “Let’s do this.”
We walk side by side, hand in hand, out of the tunnel, into the waiting media camped outside, grinning at one another as the flashbulbs go off and questions rain down on us.
Our eyes connect, silently communicating, and we move toward one another like magnets irresistibly drawn together, and the moment our lips meet, I know this is what forever feels like.
EPILOGUE
Keaton – Six Months Later
“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” I say, shivering under the sleeping bag as I snuggle in closer to Austen. The tent is top of the line, it’s spacious, and we’re on two camp beds pushed together, sharing a double sleeping bag, but it’s fucking freezing, and I’m questioning how sane I was when I agreed to this camping trip.
He chuckles. “Because you love me, and you can’t ever tell me no.”
I scowl at him, scooting back, instantly missing his body heat. “Pretty sure I said no when you wanted to tie me up,” I remind him.
He closes the gap between us when my teeth start chattering, pulling me in flush to his chest. “But you really wanted to say yes,” he murmurs, brushing his lips along the column of my neck. “Admit it.”
“Okay,” I relent. “The thought of it might excite me, but why am I the one getting tied up?”
Austen’s hands move toward the waistband of my boxers, and I’m down with where this is heading. “You know this is an equal relationship. Anything I do to you, you can do to me,” he purrs, pres
sing a line of kisses along my collarbone. “If that’s all you were worried about, you should have said so.”
“Wait.” I grab his chin, forcing his face to mine. “You’re okay with me tying you up?”
He props up on one elbow, peering down at me. Strands of dark hair sweep over his brow, and his green eyes are dancing with amusement. “Hell yeah. We can take turns.” He nudges his hard-on against my leg and all the blood in my body rushes straight to my cock.
“You’re on,” I say, grabbing his hips and pulling him on top of me. “But that’ll have to wait. Until we have a bed. Right now, I need you to warm me up.”
He pivots his hips, grinding his erection against mine through our boxers. “Oh, do you now?” he teases, leaning down to kiss me. “What if I need you to warm me up?”
I grab hold of his ass cheeks, squeezing. “It was your idea to come camping in Denver in March at the top of a fucking mountain where it’s practically Arctic temperatures. That makes it your job to stop me from getting hypothermia.”
He chuckles, brushing his nose against mine. “Always so dramatic.”
I slide my hand underneath his boxers, palming his ass, skin on skin. “You love my drama.”
God knows Austen has had to get used to it in the months since we became official and moved in together. We decided from the second we reunited that we weren’t hiding anything, and we live our relationship under a spotlight, uncaring what the media or trolls say.
The majority of the public has embraced us as the “IT” gay couple, and interest in our relationship shows no sign of waning.
Things blew up online last month when word of Brock Jonas’s death hit the news. It seems he OD’d in jail, and it was another opportunity for the media to rehash everything from the past. Dax is still in jail, and he won’t be seeing the light of day for at least another couple of years.
Having the cooking show helps because I’m happy to discuss Austen and my relationship in a way I can control, and it helps to keep us real and grounded. If the press prints some bullshit about us, I can address it while I am cooking, and that puts an end to the rumor. It means we don’t stress about some of the crap that’s written about us, and we don’t have to do formal interviews. We completely control the narrative, and while there will always be jerks who try to twist things, we genuinely don’t care.
Adoring Keaton: A Stand-Alone Friends-to-Lovers MM Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 9) Page 30