by Beth Michele
I was so worked up that the piece of bread lodged in my throat and I had to make a mad dash for my water. Even after draining the bottle, it did nothing to put out the fire in my groin.
“You okay?”
Nodding, I coughed into my fist and tried to get control of the riot in my chest. Drew made me insane. And yet, I was never more at peace.
Once I’d managed to calm down, I wiped my mouth with the napkin and dropped it onto my plate. “I’m stuffed, and that was amazing. Thank you.”
Drew polished off his last bite of pasta. “Sure.” He stood, reaching down to take my dish and his fingers brushed mine. Goose bumps traveled the length of my arm and I swore I felt his slight shiver.
I looked up. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”
“If you insist.” He flipped me a wink and the fire started up again. Shaking off my daze, I focused on scrubbing the dishes and loading them in the drainer. It wasn’t easy making idle conversation when Drew’s eyes were fixated on me.
Luckily, I finished quickly and we wandered out to the living room. It was impossible to resist ogling him in those sweats that melded to his ass perfectly. I wasn’t done but he cut off my view when he collapsed onto the sofa. He had his hands laced behind his head, feet kicked up on a trunk that doubled as a coffee table. Urges to tackle him crept up again and I shoved them back down. There was no way I was going to push. This had to be on his terms.
“Okay, so I need to say for the record that TV is monstrous.” I sank beside him, near enough that I picked up his clean, soapy scent. He smelled amazing.
“It is, isn’t it? It’s fucking awesome for video games and movies. There’s never any need to go out to a movie anymore.”
“How big is it?”
From the side, I caught his grin. “Sixty inches.”
“That’s, uh… enormous.” And I couldn’t help it. I laughed like a teenage boy and Drew glanced over. Humor flashed in his eyes.
“You already know it’s enormous.”
My mouth fell open, but I recovered. “You did not just say that.”
“I fucking did.” He smirked like the Cheshire cat. “Besides, you know it’s true.”
Again, my mouth was as wide as my grin. This guy was going to be the death of me. I reached behind me for a pillow and whacked him in the stomach. He retaliated, tossing one, then another cushion at me. I blocked both shots with a snicker. “Missed.”
Drew narrowed his eyes, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “That’s because I wasn’t aiming.”
We both got quiet for a minute until we broke it at the same time.
“Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Are you going to show me the rest of your place?”
Nervous laughter followed. It was strange to be excited yet so on edge. I never imagined I would love being completely off-balanced—but with Drew, I did.
“Sure. I’ll give you the grand tour. But it’s gonna be very short.” He half-slid, half-twisted his body to maneuver off the couch. In the process, his shirt rode up and I tried not to stare at the sliver of golden skin—but it was futile. Drew had a sexy quotient that was through the roof. I had to suck in a breath to fight off the desire swirling in my gut as I stood to follow him down a narrow hallway.
He pointed to a door on the right. “Bathroom.” Taking two more steps, he walked into a room on the opposite side and flicked on the light. “My bedroom.” It was a small room with only a queen-sized bed and dresser filling the space. The walls were again a white canvas scattered with various pictures. Similar to the photos I saw earlier, most were of Drew and his mom, and some with Joe.
“Wow, this really is a bed room.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “The only thing there’s room to do in here is sleep.” I begged to differ on that fact, but kept it to myself.
“What about your books?” I questioned, realizing there was no sign of them anywhere.
He motioned with a thumb over his shoulder. “That a way.” Drew turned and walked across the hall, depressing a light switch. Another small room, but this time, it was like a mini library. Each wall was covered with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and overstuffed with novels. A funky yellow beanbag chair sat in the center of the room. It looked ridiculously comfortable. “This is my ‘block out the world’ room.”
“It’s perfect.” I pictured us here together, reading, talking for hours—about books—about life. Maybe my head would be on his shoulder. Maybe our fingers would be twined together.
God, I wanted that.
He jumped onto the beanbag. “This is my Yogibo.”
“Your yogi what?”
“My Yogibo.” He rolled off of it and onto the small area rug. “Here, lie down.”
I laid down and didn’t want to get up. It molded to my body like a cushiony canoe of sorts. “This is unbelievably comfortable. I don’t think I’d ever leave this room.”
Drew smiled down at me, his eyes twinkling. “That’s the idea.” Abruptly, he got to his feet and held out his hand. I didn’t hesitate. After all, it was an opportunity to touch him. Once I was upright, he let go. I frowned even though he couldn’t see it. “All right,” he said, strolling back out to the kitchen. “Go find a movie on Netflix while I make us the best fucking banana split you’ve ever had.”
Halfway into the opening credits of Batman vs. Superman, I dug my spoon in for a hesitant taste of my very first banana split. Drew and I sat close together, our thighs almost touching. Heat radiated out from my jeans. That close point of contact wasn’t enough. I needed more.
His eyes were on my face. “Well?” he coaxed, “it’s the best fucking thing, isn’t it?”
My lips twisted like I had to think about it. “I’m not going to say it’s the best. But it’s not bad.”
He frowned. “You don’t like it?”
“No. I didn’t say that.” I quickly explained with a smile. “I like it… I just don’t love it.”
I love you.
The thought slammed into me. I didn’t know where it came from. But I knew with utmost certainty it was true. I think I’d known for a while. It just took a little longer to surface. But I felt it in my heart. The way it thundered against my ribs whenever Drew was around. How seeing his smile was like waking up to a brand new day. The sun climbing above the horizon. It was light, and possibility—and so much happiness my chest wanted to burst with it. But in this one moment, I had to suppress all of that. Because I didn’t think he was ready for me. I was surprised how ready I was for him.
“Sam,” his tone was low, “where are you?”
I blinked twice before finding his smile. “I’m here. And I do like it.”
“You know what? You tried it, and hey, that’s all that matters.” He inched closer, pressing his cold, wet lips to my cheek. I closed my eyes. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered, and I shivered, pushing my hand deep into the couch cushion. I wanted to touch his chin and turn him toward me, to cradle his face. To let all those feelings out.
He devoured the banana split while I sat stock-still, staring at the television, but paying little attention to the movie. Hyperaware of every time he shifted on the sofa—every inhalation of breath—every sound. Spoons clanked in the bowl as he set it on the trunk and I wanted to jump out of my skin. No. I wanted to jump Drew.
Last night caught up with me and my eyelids grew heavy. I must’ve dozed off because when I woke, Drew was also asleep. His head was on my shoulder and it reminded me of that day on the island when he took care of me. His hat had fallen off and I leaned my cheek against his hair, breathing him in. I even went so far as to smooth a few long wisps away from his eyes. He made a tiny noise in his throat and I smiled. My insides filled with warmth and lightness. I could’ve floated away.
Drew mumbled my name and slung his arm, heated from sleep, across my stomach. It rattled my heart again, and I tried to talk myself down. Meanwhile, the hand trapped between us was numb and I lifted it, flexing my fingers before hooking it around
his back. I brought my other hand up from the sofa and laid it on top of his arm—the one on my chest—and just held him. As I glanced down, I noticed my leather band was missing before my eyes drifted shut and I fell into a peaceful slumber.
I stirred when something warm and wet tickled my neck. Lips. They definitely felt like lips.
Afraid I was dreaming, I peeled one eye open then another. Drew’s breath continued to feather over my skin telling me this definitely wasn’t a dream.
My hand moved gently down his back and he raised his head. His voice was gravelly yet soft. “Hey.”
I swallowed thickly. “Hey yourself.”
His gaze took in my face as his hand came around to caress my neck. My breathing picked up when he leaned in, peppering kisses along the edge of my jaw, then lower, leaving a damp trail along my throat. “God, I missed you,” he panted into my ear, and my heart skipped a thousand beats.
Drew twisted his torso until he was up on his knees then slid a leg over my lap to straddle me. The thickness of his arousal nudged my zipper through the thin material of his sweats. I wanted… I wanted to slip under the waistband and take his cock in my hand, curl my fingers around all that smooth skin. But I kept my hands at my sides. Letting him take the lead.
He bracketed my face, thumbs brushing the length of my cheeks. His eyes were dark and bottomless. Breath loud as it warmed my skin. His mouth hovered above mine before his tongue flicked out to taste my upper lip. I whimpered, needing him so much.
“Drew, I want you to know I—”
“Shh.” He placed a finger to my mouth before covering it with his own. It was a gentle press of lips, at first. But then I opened for him and he tongued me deep, exploring my mouth, weaving his tongue around mine. Sweetness from the ice cream lingered behind and it was so good. As was everything about Drew and me together. I shivered, knowing it was partly due to fear. But then I shoved it all aside. Wanting only to be here, with Drew.
Our moans blended together. My cock hardened beneath him and my hands were desperate for something to do. I lifted one and eased my thumb under his shirt, starting a slow drag over his hip, back and forth, up and down along his bare skin. His hands slid into my hair and he pulled me closer. Between his sweet taste and the feel of his erection rocking against mine, I had to maintain considerable restraint not to take him in all the ways I wanted to. All the ways I’d been dreaming about.
My fingers caught up with my brain and crawled toward the band of his sweats, gliding through the dark trail of fine hair. Drew whimpered, and I lingered there, teasing him, loving the way his body responded to my touch. He backed out of the kiss, moaning. His eyes were on fire.
“Sam.”
God, I loved him this way. All his walls were down. He was completely open to me, vulnerable in a way I knew he hadn’t been with anyone else. And I cherished that. His lips tipped up into a curious smile, as if he knew what I was thinking. And I wanted him to know.
With my free hand, I cupped his cheek at the same time my fingers drifted lower. His smile disappeared with the rise and fall of his chest. Sweat dotted his upper lip and he groaned. It was loud. Unapologetic. And sexy as hell.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and pushed back the damp strands. He arched into me—but then his cell rang. We both tried to ignore it, but it kept ringing until it finally brought us out of our haze.
“Maybe you should answer that.”
He growled and I couldn’t help but laugh. “It better be fucking important.” He grinned, sliding off my lap. “Or I’m going to crucify whoever is on the other end of that line.” As he escaped, I snapped the elastic on his sweats and he flipped me a sexy grin over his shoulder. One that faded once his ear met the phone.
All the happiness from seconds before drained from his face. His expression shifted, the lines around his mouth tightened. He spoke in short, choppy bursts, as if that’s all he had. The one-sided conversation didn’t help me discern what was happening.
I stood quickly and reached for my wristband, remembering it wasn’t there. My fingernails dug into my palm as I waited for him to finish. He didn’t say goodbye to whoever it was, dropping his phone onto the couch. His eyes darted around the room.
“I… have to go. I…” He scraped a hand roughly through his hair as his gaze flitted left then right.
“Drew, what is it?”
He slid on his sneakers and paced the apartment, ignoring my question. “Where are my fucking keys? Fuck.” When he finally met my gaze, his eyes were wild. “I don’t remember where I left my fucking keys. Where the fuck are my keys?”
I didn’t ask him again what was going on. Because it didn’t matter. He was shutting down, and he needed me. “I’ll find them.” He nodded, and I scoured the apartment from top to bottom until I located them in the pocket of a pair of jeans. When I returned to the living room, Drew was still standing in the same spot, staring at the floor. My chest burned. He looked like a lost little boy. “I found them. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t until we were sitting in the taxi that Drew turned to me. In the city lights streaming through the cab, his eyes were filled with unshed tears.
“It’s Joe… he… he… had a heart attack.”
NOT JOE.
Please not Joe.
Sam’s hand continued to grasp mine as I offered up a silent prayer to God on the way to the hospital. I didn’t know if God was listening. After all, I wasn’t a regular customer. The last time we had a conversation was when my mother died. I was cursing then, unable to fathom why she’d be taken away from me so early. So he had no reason to listen to me now. Only I was hoping he would. I needed him to spare Joe. He was all I had left.
Buildings skated by in a fucking blur; Joe’s face, that scruffy beard of his, those kind eyes. All the times he showed up for me at the YMCA and watched me swim. All the people at the soup kitchen who smiled whenever they saw him.
Please not Joe.
Sam kept hold of my hand, squeezing it every now and then to let me know he was there. I was gripping him so tight that I was probably cutting off his circulation. But he didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, and I nodded at the window. Random acquaintances who showed up when my mother died said the same thing. But it wasn’t fucking okay—because my mother was gone—leaving this gaping hole where she once stood.
I didn’t remember getting out of the taxi. But once I was inside the double doors, my knees buckled. My stomach felt like it was filled with rocks, and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball on the fucking ground and cry. This couldn’t happen again. Maybe that made me a selfish asshole, but Joe couldn’t leave me. I knew he was older and eventually his time would come… but I wasn’t ready yet. He was all I had in this world. The one person I relied on. Since my mother died, he was the only person I relied on—and I couldn’t lose him.
Sam wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me off the floor. Brown eyes met mine, and what I saw in them made me want to collapse again. Concern. Hope. Maybe even something else. Something I was afraid to want—terrified to accept.
“Hold onto me, okay?” His smile was gentle and I nodded my head with the little strength I had left. He found me a seat and a cup of water before he sprang into action like a fucking superhero, leaving my side only for a minute to find out about Joe’s condition. All the energy seeped from my body. I couldn’t formulate words to speak to anyone—except Joe.
Please not Joe.
I’m not sure what Sam told them. The hospital was always so strict with giving out information. But Joe didn’t have any family—except for me. I was beyond grateful I’d given my number to the superintendent of his apartment building years ago.
We were directed to Cardiology and Sam steered me toward the bank of elevators. I clung to him like a fucking monkey, afraid he would disappear too if I let go. The ding of the elevator made me jumpy and Sam’s hand on my back calmed me down. Once we arrived on the appropriate floor,
he ushered me to a seat and went over to speak with one of the nurses.
He seemed nervous when he returned, biting at his lip and rubbing the back of his neck. My stomach dipped. He took a seat beside me and placed his hand over mine. “He’s in surgery.”
“Surgery?” I pinched my temple and dropped my head, shaking it. “Fuck. I can’t lose him. He’s all I have.”
“No.” Sam gripped my face and turned me toward him, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You have me, Drew,” he added softly, thumb brushing along my cheek. “You have me.”
I wanted to believe him more than I’d wanted anything in a long time. But it was so fucking hard. Unable to look at him anymore, I closed my eyes and let my head sag against his shoulder. Otherwise, I was going to fall apart the rest of the way, splinter into a million pieces. “I’m so scared, Sam. I’m so fucking scared.”
He stroked his hand back and forth over my hair. “I know, baby,” he whispered. “I know.”
My eyes burned behind my lids. I didn’t know what else to do except hold onto Sam as tight as I could. It was like I was fucking fourteen again, sitting here waiting for the doctors to tell me they couldn’t save my mother—except now it was Joe. As if Sam sensed this, he pulled me in close—but it wasn’t close enough. I wanted to crawl onto his lap. Bury my face in his chest and let him take care of me. It seemed wrong to want that. I was a grown fucking man. But it didn’t change the facts.
When I finally blinked my eyes open, they flew to the clock. “What’s happening?”
“You dozed off.” Sam smoothed the hair from my forehead. “But there isn’t any news yet except that he’s still in the OR.” I exhaled a hard breath that did nothing to calm my nervous stomach. Sam tipped my chin up. “Hey, you thirsty? Hungry?” I shook my head. “Well, you still look peaked to me. I’m going to at least go down and get you something to drink.”
“I really don’t—” Sam was already up and walking away before I finished my sentence. I slouched in my chair and rested my head against the seat. My gaze flicked to the clock again. Seconds ticked by loudly in my ears yet I swore the hands weren’t moving. I sighed heavily as exhaustion pulled me the fuck under. My body felt like it had been through a war. I never had the opportunity to fight for my mother, but I sure as hell was going to fight for Joe—even if it did come in the form of prayer. I didn’t know what else to do.