by Neve Wilder
“I’m glad it was a nice experience.” I meant it. It made me feel good inside, knowing he’d been surrounded by such acceptance.
Cole’s mouth softened, features pulling into a frown. “I still feel bad about how I reacted to you. I know”—he lifted his hand to stall me—“you told me not to, but I do. I’ll always regret it.”
Below the solo photo of Cole was one of the two of us, my arm slung loosely around his shoulders. I’d still had an inch of height on him back then. Cole’s mom had taken the photo after a football game. He had the school’s mascot painted on his cheek. I’d been in my football gear. I was captured in profile, in the midst of saying something to Cole as he laughed. I remembered the moment perfectly. It wasn’t a momentous occasion, but I looked at the photograph and even now could feel my heart swell in my chest the way it had back then.
“I need to tell you something.” I knew without a doubt that if I didn’t, I’d regret it the same way I’d regretted not speaking up all those years ago.
Cole paled slightly, then nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay, sure. Go.”
“When I told you that day that I was gay, that wasn’t what I’d intended. I mean, it was, but the whole reason I came over in the first place was because I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you.”
Cole’s jaw dropped. “You were?”
“Hopelessly.” I wet my lips, which were suddenly as parched as my throat. “I still am.”
16
Cole
I still am.
Oh my god, Dane was going to kill me. I was going to melt right where I was standing into a puddle, leaving the too tight jeans and the best sweater I’d ever felt on my body puddled on the floor. The sincerity in his eyes made my next inhale sound like a shudder.
My fucking hands shook. “I had no idea.” None. Zip. Zilch.
“I chickened out. I was terrified of what you’d say. What you’d think. You had a girlfriend, and there’d never been any obvious signs that…” Dane winced. “You have no idea how many times over the last decade I regretted it, how often I thought of you. Constantly. It was constantly, Cole.”
I deflated. “God, I feel even worse now, because I shut you out.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I caught you off guard. I get it now. I went about everything all wrong, and then I took it as rejection even though I hadn’t even given you a shot. It wasn’t fair.”
“You started dating that other guy almost immediately, so I just thought… I don’t know what I thought. My reaction was terrible. I wasn’t remotely supportive, and I never blamed you for not wanting to be around me much anymore, but I fucking missed you because…” I stole a deep breath, the ache in my chest swelling. “I loved you, too. I wasn’t ready to acknowledge my own sexuality yet. I chickened out, too, and by the time I figured it out, it was too late.”
“I know, and that’s okay.”
“No it’s not—we could’ve been…”
Dane put a finger to my lips. “Maybe that’s the way it was supposed to happen, though. And I’m not telling you all of this as some attempt to convince you to stay here rather than go to New York—or anywhere else for that matter—because I want you to know that if you take that job and still want to be together, I’m more than willing to make it work. I have a shit ton of air miles with your name on them.”
“Be quiet, Dane.”
He ignored me. “I’m saying it because I didn’t want you to leave again without knowing how I feel about you.”
“I’m not taking the job,” I told him matter-of-factly, a grin breaking loose at his perplexed expression.
“You’re not? Wait, why not? It’s a great job.”
“It’s a contract job, and if I’m going to do a contract job, I’d rather find one closer to the man I’m in love with. If this is my second chance, there’s not a goddamn thing in the world that’ll tempt me to waste it.”
Dane bumped his forehead against mine, and for a second we were silent, only the quiet inhales and exhales of our breath moving between us.
“I thought you were about to say that if I moved away, we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” I admitted. “I was about to freak out because I’ve never felt more comfortable with a person, never been more into a person. I can handle a three-hour drive on the weekends, but I don’t think I can handle being any farther from you. Fuck.” I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the dampness.
Dane’s fingers slid along my jaw and gently guided my gaze up to meet his. He swept his thumbs tenderly below my eyes, then brushed a soft kiss over my lips that had my breath hitching all over again.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, and then he pressed his lips together. But I saw the smile beneath anyway as he said, “Do you want my handkerchief?”
“Goddamn you and your handkerchief. Do you seriously have a handkerchief with you?”
He tsked me and removed a square of cloth from his jeans pocket.
“That’s so fucking weird. Give it to me.” I reached for it with a laugh, but he yanked it just out of reach and stuffed it back into his back pocket.
“Come get it. Then I’m taking you out of this zoo for a while and back to my place. Because there’s another Thanksgiving feast I’m dying to get to.”
“Touché.”
Epilogue: Dane
Eight months later
Cole laced his fingers through mine and shot me a warning glare as the string quartet cued up.
“I wasn’t going to say a damn word,” I assured him with a chuckle.
“Good.” With his free hand, he reached into my breast pocket, tugged my handkerchief free, and kept it clutched in his fist as we stood and angled toward the church doors. Then he shot me another threatening look, as if he was afraid I hadn’t gotten the memo the first time. “This is just in case, of course.”
“Of course.” I eyed the silky cloth, then him and pressed a kiss to his temple. “My allergies are flaring today, too.”
Cole tried to maintain the solemn expression but failed, dissolving into a helpless laugh. “You’re such an asshole.”
“I know. I love you. And your sensitive tear ducts, too.” In spite of my tease, he curled into my embrace. He was such a sucker for affection, I couldn’t help but give it to him at every turn, as if I had to make up for all those years I’d missed out on, all those times I’d wanted to touch him like this in high school and been too afraid to. Now he was mine to touch whenever I liked, and very soon, I intended to make that permanent.
“It’s ridiculous. I hardly even know him, but now that there’s a string quartet involved, I’m doomed.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what they were thinking when they planned the wedding: this string quartet will make everyone cry. Especially Cole Green.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Cole huffed. “I think Chase likes the drama.”
“You might be onto something there,” I said, and then we quieted as Chase and his groom, Lance, walked down the aisle arm in arm and in matching tuxes.
“I’m still not quite sure why we were invited.” Cole spoke from the side of his beaming smile and upnodded Chase as he passed by.
“He heard a rumor that we give good wedding gifts?” I wasn’t sure, either. We didn’t hang out with Chase, though we crossed paths fairly regularly. The last time we’d run into him while Cole and I were picking up coffee and croissants, Chase had vaguely but emphatically insisted we were instrumental in his impending nuptials. None of us had mentioned his previous offer to be our creamy filling at Shay and Aaron’s wedding, but Cole and I had laughed at the memory the moment he exited the shop. And then we proceeded to return to our apartment and reenact that night.
A week later, we’d received the wedding invitation.
Cole leaned back against me as Chase and Lance stopped in front of the preacher and turned toward each other. The quiet hiss he let out when I dropped a hand to his waist and ran my fingers over the top of
his ass thrilled me. I pressed another kiss to the crown of his head and tried to pay attention as we sat back down and the ceremony got underway. When he began dabbing his eyes with my handkerchief, I clutched his hand tighter and thanked whatever was above us for bringing him back to me.
At the reception, we moved among the hors d’oeuvres tables, drinking champagne and chatting with other guests. Cole spotted one of his coworkers from Zen, the advertising firm in town where he’d gotten a job shortly after turning down the offer in New York. Two weeks after that, he’d moved into my apartment. It had been fast, and maybe a bit reckless. But even Grandma Merkle had stopped giving us the skeptical side eye after six months.
After Cole said hello to his coworker, I hooked an elbow through his and steered him toward the dessert display, where ramekins of crème brûlée were calling my name. I planned for us to do a quick sampling and then head home, because I wanted all the alone time I could get with Cole before an upcoming business trip would see me gone most of the week.
Both of our phones dinged at the same time.
Aaron: It’s a…
Shay: Boy!
Shay: …
Aaron: And a boy!
Cole gasped, and I touched my pocket. “Do you need my handkerchief again?”
“Oh god no, not for children.” He said it as if my implication was insane, but his smile was bright with the news and proved infectious.
“Bless their hearts. They’d better start stocking up now.” Shay had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding, though she swore she wasn’t trying and blamed Grandma Merkle for cursing her by mentioning she and Aaron looked like a fertile couple.
Cole nodded in sympathy. “Can you imagine the number of diapers?”
“And what if they both play sports?”
“Sounds expensive. You know what’s less expensive?”
“Video games. Cats. Dogs. Birds. Anything other than children.”
“But we’ll spoil the hell out of theirs.” I was already envisioning holidays with the expanding Green clan. Neither Cole nor I wanted our own, but spending the past Christmas with his family had been a riot, and we’d had a shockingly good time picking out Christmas gifts together for his many cousins.
“Absolutely,” Cole agreed, then tugged my hand. “Are you thinking dessert and ditch?”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” I eyed the array of tiered cakes, pies, crème brûlées, and cookies. “I think they must have spent more on the desserts than the dinner buffet.”
“Maybe they both have a major sweet tooth?” Cole accepted the plate I handed over to him. “I’m not complaining.”
“Commentary, not complaint,” I assured him and laughed as he debated between pecan pie and cake. “You can have both, you know. They won’t mind.”
Cole fixed me with a scrupulous stare, then waggled his brows. “We’ve never incorporated pies before.”
“Don’t get me hard in a dessert line.” It was a moot point. Cole could make a pair of socks sexy.
“Not my fault that you have weird food fetishes.”
“Actually it is. I never had the desire to smear someone in dessert until you came along,” I reminded him, then grabbed one of the ramekins of crème brûlée from the display. “Are you saying I’m alone in that fetish?”
Cole bit his lip, but the grin broke through anyway, widening as he glanced down at the ramekin on my plate, then back up at me. He licked his lips.
“Oh, it’s on,” I promised. “Tonight we’re learning how to make crème brûlée.” The idea of Cole covered in the silky sweet texture of the crème aroused me. What the two of us referred to as The Cake Incident had unlocked a whole other side of me I hadn’t been aware of. A more playful and experimental side I hadn’t cultivated during my days of domming, especially early on when I thought I had to be tough and untouchable.
Desserts in hand, we made our way toward a wall of windows that looked out onto the botanical gardens, then dug into our desserts.
We were halfway through when Chase spotted us and clapped excitedly, clutching Lance’s elbow and all but dragging him over.
“Thank you so much for coming!” he crowed. We exchanged hugs and handshakes, and Lance hung back a little, clearly happy to let Chase take the spotlight.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thanks for inviting us.” Cole pointed the tip of his spoon at his pie. “The desserts are delicious by the way.”
“Are you kidding? You two were instrumental.”
I chuckled. “You said that before but haven’t exactly been specific.”
Chase waggled his brows. “Three words. Rejection sex throwdown.”
“Rejection sex…” I echoed contemplatively and caught a flush rising in Lance’s cheeks a second before he laughed and snagged Chase by the arm.
“You should leave it at that, darling.”
“I think I will.” Chase gave us sloppy cheek kisses and tucked himself against Lance’s side. “Let’s have dinner together sometime soon. Promise.”
Maybe it would be one of those empty promises that never came to fruition, but I did like Chase. And Lance seemed nice enough, too. “Absolutely. We can try out that new restaurant on Fifth. Or, Cole makes a mean pot roast.”
“And Dane is a fierce baker,” Cole chimed in.
“You two sound frightfully wholesome and domestic.” Chase wrinkled his nose. “I have to admit I’m a little disappointed.”
He wasn’t wrong. Cole and I easily preferred the company of each other over a sprawling social life. It was as if we were trying to make up for all the years spent apart, and even though we often made plans to go out, we usually ended up bailing and staying at home cooking together or catching a game, sometimes playing old video games he’d brought over from his parents’ house.
Cole laughed. “Trust me, if you could see what happens—”
I clapped a hand over his mouth. “We’re incredibly boring, yes.”
Cole’s eyes sparkled as his gaze locked onto mine when Chase and Lance moved on after another assurance we’d get together soon. I recognized that glimmer and set my plate aside, dropping a light caress over his bicep. Beneath the crisp lines of his shirt were bold blooms of color, fading impressions of my touch. He wasn’t a major pain slut, but we both liked some vigorous action mixed in with the sensual. We’d been experimenting more with him topping lately, and I thought we might be heading in that direction tonight. The idea sent licks of fire up my spine and made me all the more eager to leave. I’d always known I was vers but had never found someone I’d truly been comfortable sharing that aspect of myself with until Cole.
“This crème brûlée is disappointing. You know we have that cheesecake in the fridge at home,” I mused.
“Feeling the urge to get a little messy?” Cole arched a brow then sucked in a breath as I leaned in and nipped his earlobe.
“A lot messy. I’ve been inspired. Let’s go.” I guided him toward the exit, sending farewell waves to other friends and acquaintances in passing. “I also picked up something from your favorite ‘magic’ shop the other day.”
“Oh?” Cole’s brow perked in interest. Ace’s Wild had seen plenty of him since he’d moved back to Vintage Ridge, and he was now on a first-name basis with Ace and Wilder. “Tell me more.”
As soon as the door to the atrium shut, I reeled Cole in and kissed along his jaw. “Better to experience it in person.” He was hard against me, and his pulse jumped against the fingers I trailed down his throat. “Have I mentioned how much I adore you?”
His eyelids fluttered shut briefly with the praise, then blinked wide. He started shaking his head at my grin. “I don’t trust that smile at all. Oh my god, you bought that giant dildo, didn’t you? God, you’re such a perv. There’s no way. No way.”
“Even after all these months, you doubt me.” I guided him toward the door, laughing as he continued to protest. “But then again, you did the same with the clothespins,” I pointed out
.
A flustered shiver ran over Cole’s shoulders and transmitted arousal straight to my cock. “Oh yeah,” he exhaled. “That did work out nicely.”
“Which makes your lack of faith in me all the more disturbing.” At the curb, I opened the door to the passenger side of the car and urged him inside. Visions of his nipples pinched tight and angry between the clips taunted me. We’d both come so hard that time we’d been useless for the rest of the day.
“It’s a punishable offense, I’d think.” Cole wriggled in the seat as I slid into the driver’s side and cranked the car. “Guess you’ll have to spank me again.”
“There are other methods of punishment. Like…” I glanced over at him and flashed a sharp smile. “Not letting you come until I get back from my trip.”
Cole’s mouth fell open. “That’s just mean. Couldn’t you do the clothespins again?”
“That’s not exactly how this works.” I powered up the radio and eased into the flow of traffic as Cole hmphed and pulled out his phone, swiping at the screen. Despite his protests, the bulge in his trousers said he was very much on board. I reached over the console and danced my fingertips up his thighs until he gasped.
“Distracting.”
“Not sorry,” I countered.
Cole flashed his phone screen at me. “Mom wants to know if we want to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Ask her if she’ll make a cake for dessert.”
“You know I won’t be able to keep a straight face. I have Pavlovian reactions now. I’m ruined.”
“Which is where the fun comes in.”
Cole laughed, then tapped out a reply on his phone. “Okay, done, and she says yes.”