by Jaime Samms
He’d brought men into that place of floating, heady existence before. He knew how careful he had to be with them and didn’t think Cal had any idea Cobalt zoned out on him. Didn’t think Cobalt’s headspace was ecstasy so much as escape, and that terrified Preston. Couple that with the jealous rage Calvin had left in, and Preston was not inclined to leave Cobalt alone in case of a repeat performance by his less-than-tender boyfriend.
“Nothing to say?” Cobalt asked after a few minutes of silence had fallen.
“You said it yourself.” Preston stroked his cheek once, then took his hand back and got to his feet. “You’re a grown man. You can make your own choices.” He turned the soup off and popped the toast down, puttering about serving their meal as he spoke. “It isn’t my place to judge or tell you how to live your life.”
“I would think after that kiss you would want a say.”
“I do. That doesn’t mean I get one.”
“And if he comes back?”
“Make the call,” Preston said quietly, forcing his voice to remain calm and even. “I’ll back you up.”
“Even if I don’t kick him out?”
“Your call.” He placed two bowls of soup on the table and went back for the toast. “I will back you up. Always.”
He had two slices of toast in the toaster and two on a plate and was setting about buttering them when the scrape of Cobalt’s chair across the tiles, a hard sound of finality, made him jump. He was about to turn when Cobalt’s arms, strong and frail at once, wrapped around his chest. The pound of Cobalt’s heart against his back vibrated right up into the roof of his skull and down into his soul. If he could keep that sound and rhythm a part of him for all time, he would. He wanted to turn and hold him properly, but the weight of Cobalt’s head on his shoulder cemented him in place. He placed a hand over Cobalt’s on his chest.
“That means more to me than you can possibly know,” Cobalt whispered.
Preston didn’t think Cobalt was right about that. He’d always known no matter what Cobalt decided, Preston would stand by him. Even if Preston didn’t like the decision. It was what Cobalt needed most in the world. Unconditional trust and support.
“That horse that my father made you try and train for me. Did you ever think I’d be able to ride it?”
Preston clamped his hand over Cobalt’s more firmly. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me. You tried to tame it for me.”
“I failed.”
“It was never going to be the horse my father wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you then. I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to make things right.”
Carefully Preston lifted Cobalt’s hand to his lips, kissed the knuckles, and let out a soft breath, covering the skin over bone with a layer of heat and comfort. “You couldn’t know what would happen.”
“I could have listened to you when you told me to wait. To be patient. To trust you to fix things.”
“I can’t fix this, Coby.” Preston closed his eyes, tried and failed to keep the hitch out of his breath. Just like back then, after the horse had gone haywire and Preston lay broken in the dirt, it was down to Cobalt to take charge of his own disaster and do what needed to be done. Cobalt had exerted his will over that damn horse in the end, made it bend to his dominion, and fetched lifesaving help for Preston.
Now Preston hoped he could exert the same indomitable will over the runaway chaos his life had become and make it work for him, instead of against him. Preston had faith he could do it. He needed Cobalt to have the same faith.
Cobalt freed his hand and pressed it back over Preston’s heart. For a few heartbeats, the push of Cobalt’s chest against his back gave him the rhythm he needed to find his own breath, his own heartbeat again.
The toaster popping forced his eyes open and a sharp gasp into his lungs, disrupting the pattern of breath in, breath out.
“I can,” Cobalt whispered. “I can make this better, but… you have to trust me. I have to do something you won’t like, and you promised to be by my side the whole way. To stand by me. Back me.”
“And I will.” Preston needed the contact of skin on skin again, and he plucked Cobalt’s hand up into his, pressed the fingers to his lips, and once more closed his eyes.
“No matter what?”
Preston turned into Cobalt’s embrace and held him tight, hating that he knew he was about to rip out his own heart and hand it over to a man barely surviving in his own right. “No matter what,” he promised. Even if I get trampled into the dust again.
Cobalt nodded against his chest, and they stayed ensconced in each other’s embrace long after toast and soup had cooled to inedible.
Chapter 15
“SO.” COBALT investigated the bubbly surface of a fancy bathroom tile, trailing his index finger over the raised surface of ceramic. For most of the two days since Preston had fed him, dressed his wounds and made sure he was safe, they had been talking windows and renovations and fences. Now, Cobalt focused his gaze on the display and the way the light winked off sparkling grit embedded under the clear glass of another. That was pretty. He touched the cool surface, almost expecting an icy charge to emanate from the chill blue gleam of glass. His lower lip hurt from the way he had been gnawing on it all morning, and he worried it out from under his teeth yet again.
“So?” Ever gentle, Preston clasped his wrist and moved his hand away from his mouth. He leaned close and placed a tender kiss on the aggravated lip. “Stop. What is it you want to say?”
Cobalt glanced down the wide aisle. A couple at the other end had their heads together, conferring over fake stone facades for fireplaces. She was frowning at one of the samples while he talked with his hands, trying, apparently, to convince her of something.
“Coby.” Preston’s firm tone brought his attention back. His eyes had narrowed, and he backed Cobalt up against the displays so they were partially obscured from scrutiny by the hinged display boards. It was still quite early in the day, and the hardware store wasn’t very busy yet, but Cobalt immediately felt his body relax. Between Preston’s proximity and the calm he exuded, Cobalt felt a slow, warm spread of peace begin in his chest. Coupled with the admittedly scant shelter provided by the displays, the moment eased some of his anxiety.
“Why do you call me that?” He found and held Preston’s gaze.
“Changing the subject?”
“Only Az calls me Coby.”
Preston shrugged. “I’ve heard others use it.”
“Not to my face.” He lifted his chin, calling on the Ice Prince of the Ballet to prove his point.
Preston grinned. “Well, I am not other people.” He smoothed his knuckles down the side of Cobalt’s face, melting the Ice Prince facade with just that trickle of warm touch. “Now talk to me.”
Cobalt swallowed a lump of nerves and curled his lips, intending to shield himself with a sneer, but Preston lifted one eyebrow, and Cobalt immediately settled. He only realized Preston still held his wrist, clamped to the hard tile display, when Preston shifted his grip to curl his fingers through Cobalt’s. “You were going to tell me something. I’ve been very patient for two days now. I know you’ve been having whispered conversations on the phone when you think I’m not paying attention. Azure was so agitated yesterday when he was over, I thought his head was going to pop off. So he knows at least some of what’s going on, but you clearly told him not to tell me. Time I was let in on the big secret, don’t you think?”
Cobalt stared at him. He didn’t think the phone calls he’d been making had gone unnoticed. But Preston had been quietly puttering around his house since Cal’s dramatic exit, fixing what he could and trying to gentle both Cobalt and his dog. He’d been a bulky, constant presence exuding fiercely protective vibes and simple, easy quiet. Cobalt hadn’t wanted to disrupt that.
“I—” He dropped his tightening shoulders and glanced past Preston as the fireplace couple wandered a little closer. “Can we—go?”
“We can. I just
have to find a box of tiles to match your floor, and the glue and grout to set them. Give me five minutes. Then we can take the dog to the park, and you will tell me what’s going on.”
“You might not—”
Preston put a finger over his lips. “Do not ever presume to tell me what I will or won’t like, say, do, or feel. That’s for me to decide.”
Cobalt nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He leaned close and kissed Cobalt.
The heat in the simple touch of lips and tongue was spine-melting. Cobalt rose to meet the invasion of Preston’s tongue with an eager greediness he hadn’t felt in a very long time. This, the kissing, was the one concession to Preston’s largely unspoken confession Cobalt could allow. Or, rather, the one he couldn’t resist. He suspected if Preston ever pressed the physical side of things, Cobalt would be just as helpless against that. But Preston never did.
Instead, he took care of things. The house, meals, the dog. Cobalt. It was easily the most addicting thing Cobalt had ever experienced. And yet he couldn’t get used to it. He didn’t dare.
If he followed through on all those whispered phone conversations like he intended, there was no way he could continue to be so near this man who melted away all his resistance, all his frigid exterior, and reached right into the molten core of him. If he didn’t have the protection of his outer shell in place, he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to do.
Preston didn’t press the issue further as they selected the right tile, glue, and grout to repair the kitchen floor, then ordered what turned out to be all the necessary materials to fence in Cobalt’s yard. That explained what Preston had been up to out in the yard the previous day while Cobalt had been making them lunch. When Cobalt spotted and insisted on paying for the most expensive and overdesigned extendable knife the store had on offer, as well as a wheeled replacement for Preston’s demolished toolbox, Preston only had made mild protest at the expense.
“You’re going to squish a finger or cut yourself on something sharp if you have to keep digging around in that big old wooden box you’re using.”
“While I appreciate the concern, Coby, I’m not a complete dolt.”
“Shush. You need a new toolbox. Let me do this.”
Preston conceded, accepting the shiny new tool case—one he argued was far more costly than anything he would ever have considered purchasing himself—and kissed Cobalt’s temple. “Thank you, Coby. It will get good use.”
Cobalt wiggled a few inches closer to Preston’s side as he handed a gold credit card over to the clerk. He cast Preston a sidelong glance as pink tinted his cheeks. “Trust account still has my name,” he muttered.
“I know.”
Cobalt digested that curt statement. “You do?”
“I listened to Azure complain about how ungrateful you were, off dancing and cavorting while he paid for lawyers to make sure you didn’t lose your birthright. Even if you didn’t want it.”
“I still don’t.”
“But you’re using it.”
“Because you’ve done so much for me. I want to do things for you, and I can pay for things.”
“You can do a lot more than that.”
“But this is a start.” He smiled softly up at Preston. “Plus, it would drive my father crazy that I’m giving you things and you’re fixing my house. Like we’re friends and everything. He never understood any of that between you and Az. Mostly because Father is a snob and an elitist, but also because he knows you come from a family with more money than we’ll ever have, and so he has no neat category to put you into.”
“I never had much of anything to do with my mother’s family.”
“That doesn’t stop them being your family. It doesn’t stop you owning a piece of a bigger pie than Father has, and it makes him nuts that you mucked stalls and now drive us around.”
“Whatever piece of that pie I can claim, I’m not really interested. I have everything I need.” He touched Cobalt’s shoulder, and Cobalt relaxed slightly. “But you’ve spent a long time eking out a tiny living without touching the money, and now you’re willing to spend it on me. Just to piss your father off?”
Cobalt shook his head and ran a hand over the braided cord embellishing the outer seam of his jeans and sighed. “I never thanked Az properly for looking after my interests. Now he wants me to start doing better for myself, and maybe the house is the first step. Maybe he’ll see that using the family’s money to make my home, it’s my way of letting him know I’m paying attention to what he wants for me.” He twisted his shoulder and neck, trying to keep the tension from drawing the muscles tight. Keeping his Ice Prince in place was a lot harder than it used to be. Especially when Preston draped a huge hand over the back of his neck and squeezed lightly.
“Just letting him back into your life was huge to him.”
Cobalt smiled. “You’re the one I let in.”
“He’s a sneaky bastard that way.”
Cobalt moved a step closer. “Yeah.” Warmth radiated off Preston’s bulk, and Cobalt gave in to the temptation and let himself ease against his solidity. “I know they never really understood why I left.”
“I think Az does, at least, Coby. He’s pretty smart.”
“Maybe he doesn’t really know me, though.”
“Maybe he knows more than you think. Give him a chance. Let him see you. The real you, not the media you.”
Cobalt snorted. “The media me. You mean the Ice Prince?”
Preston kissed his hair and gave him a small shove as the clerk held out a pen and receipt. “Sign. Let’s get out of here. Chance has been in the car long enough. We need to give him a good walk in the park if he’ll do that.”
Cobalt leaned over to sign the receipt, then handed the pen back to the girl, who snapped her gum at him and offered a lazy thanks.
Preston hefted the tool kit in one hand and the box of tiles in the other. “So?”
Heat rushed up into Cobalt’s face, and he furrowed his brows. “Park,” he muttered and grabbed the remaining purchases, then hurried for the door and parking lot. He really didn’t want an audience when he told Preston his plan. Nor did he want to do it at home, where the air of peace from the past two days still lingered.
Preston shrugged and followed him out. “As you wish.”
Cobalt held back a small snarl at those three little words. Preston used them a lot, and it was inexplicably annoying to Cobalt. What if he actually wanted Preston to argue with him and not just accept his whims? What if he wanted the man to stand up and not take his shit, and instead he kept saying as you wish like some mantra?
The car trunk popped open as they approached, and Cobalt heaved his burdens inside, waiting for Preston to do the same. He slammed the lid hard once everything was inside.
Preston lifted that broken eyebrow at him but said nothing.
The car rocked with the enthusiasm of Chance’s greeting as they opened the doors. In a huff, Cobalt crawled into the backseat with Chance, rather than sit next to Preston. He knew he was being unreasonable. He couldn’t help it.
Part of him wanted the fight, wanted Preston to be less agreeable.
The ride to the park was a short one, and silent. Preston was nothing if not annoyingly patient. Cobalt’s mood darkened with every one of the five miles, and even Chance had picked up on it, growing quiet and tremulous by the time they arrived.
“You’re scaring the dog,” Preston admonished in a stern voice once he had parked, gotten out, and gone around to open Cobalt’s door for him. “If you don’t stop, we’ll never get him out.”
Cobalt petted the dog, scratching around his ears and rubbing his face. Chance calmed some and thumped his tail and eventually eased out of the car to stick close to Cobalt’s legs.
“Now come.” Preston took Cobalt’s free hand and began to slowly edge them toward the grass of the park. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Cobalt threw him a scowl, and Preston’s jaw tightened. “Did I do something?”<
br />
Of course he hadn’t. Cobalt was sulking. And being a chickenshit. He shook his head. “No. you didn’t. I’m—” He heaved a sigh. “Let’s just get the dog to relax.”
It took no small amount of cajoling to convince Chance to join them on the pathway leading into the park. Even once they had, he clung, side pressed to Preston, who now held his leash, small whines squeezing up his throat. He trembled and continually glanced up at Cobalt for reassurance. He was a far cry, out here, from the happy dog he was at home. He had always been a big part of the peace Cobalt found in that stupid little house. Cal had ruined that too.
Cobalt sighed and buried his fingers in Chance’s ruff. That seemed to calm the dog some, and they found an empty bench.
Preston remained quiet while Cobalt convinced Chance he didn’t have to climb up into his lap, but once the dog was settled, Preston’s gaze was a weight across his shoulders.
“I’ve drawn it out long enough, I suppose,” Cobalt admitted.
“You are driving me completely around the bend. What could possibly be so bad you think you can’t tell me?”
“I’m going to New York.” Cobalt said it in a rush, so it sounded more like one big word woven through the exhalation of wind.
Preston said nothing. His jaw, already tight, began to pop. He blinked a couple of times, and his mouth became a thin line.
Cobalt watched the metamorphosis from his steady, compliant driver to this rigid, awe-inspiring tower of man. Even sitting, Preston exuded contained fury. “I see.”
“Probably not.” Cobalt put a hand on his arm only to feel the same rigidity there, muscles bunched like he was ready to punch something.
Chance whined and curled his tail under his ass.
“I—there was a better way to phrase that,” Cobalt said hurriedly. “I mean, I’m going for a good reason. Cal wasn’t back here by accident.”
“He came to see his boyfriend during some unexpected time off. That’s not so far-fetched.”
“It is, actually. I mean, their rehearsal building did flood, so he did have time off, but that wouldn’t normally send him home to me. Out gallivanting and carousing and fucking, yes. But not with me.” He let out a sigh, because judging by the way Preston was now shaking ever so slightly, he wasn’t helping his situation.