by E M Lindsey
“And you want to show him that value?” Fitz asked, his tone light with a hint of teasing.
Ronan rolled his eyes behind his closed lids. “I want to hold him and kiss him and take some of the weight off so he can find his value on his own.”
And Fitz understood, Ronan knew that. Because Ronan had learned to love himself in all the stages of his body, not because Parker loved him in spite of it all, but because Parker was there to lend him the support when he wasn’t strong enough. They were patient with each other, and with themselves, and he was sure there was room for one more.
“Is it weird?” Ronan finally asked.
Fitz laughed. “No,” then he paused and sighed. “Maybe, but just because it’s hard to imagine you and Parker loving someone else. But the idea of it isn’t weird. Spencer might have a fit about not being special anymore, but…”
Ronan laughed and turned toward his friend. The movement was enough to jostle Fitz right off the lounger, and he landed on his ass with a grunt. “Don’t say anything just yet?” he asked, peering over the side of the bench.
Fitz shifted upright and pulled his knees up, resting one arm over the tops, as he grabbed Ronan’s hand with his other one. The scars were still rough, still thick, his fingers stiff, but Ronan had worked hard not shying away from Fitz’s scars and not letting his old guilt overwhelm him. He still hated and loved that Fitz didn’t blame him, and his measure of guilt was easier to bear now that it wasn’t consuming their friendship.
“Introduce me properly when you’re ready.”
Ronan nodded and squeezed his friend’s hand. “I will. For now, you can just meet Jonas—the guy coming to fuck everything up.”
Parker and Jonas took a while, but by the time they got back, Fitz had wandered back to the parking lot to finish setting up for the show. Ronan was half dozing, but he came to when Parker’s warm hand fell on his cheek.
“Eat something for me?” he asked, leaning in to nuzzle a kiss against his lips.
Ronan nodded and pushed himself up to sit. “Sure. What did you get?”
“Fruit,” Jonas said, and offered out a plate. The variety was wide and tropical, everything Ronan liked, which he knew was Parker’s doing. He stretched his legs to the ground, then laid his plate on his thighs as Parker slid up next to Jonas to share the seat.
“Fitz dropped by while you were mingling,” Ronan said, spearing a piece of strawberry with a fork. It was sweet, just shy of overripe, and he took a minute to chew it. “He wants to meet you.”
Jonas choked a little on his bite of potato salad. “Me? Why?”
“He wants to kick your ass,” Parker deadpanned, and when Jonas actually paled, Ronan leaned forward and smacked his arm.
“Don’t be a dick. He asked how things were going, and I told him about you,” Ronan said.
Jonas swallowed thickly and didn’t look soothed. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to.”
Parker looked slightly uncomfortable and set his plate down. “I’m going to find beer. My proper apology needs beer.”
Jonas opened his mouth like maybe he was going to call him back, but Ronan knew Parker didn’t deal well with fucking up. He was great at apologies, but he always needed a moment. When Jonas looked back at Ronan, half-panicked, he pat the seat beside him.
“He feels bad. That’s his guilty retreat,” Ronan said. “None of us are sorry to have you here.”
Jonas hesitated for a moment, but he shifted over with his plate and stabbed at the rest of his potatoes a little viciously. “I feel wrong for being here. For enjoying this. I keep thinking, what if this is the last time you all get to be here? What if Peter swoops in and ruins everything and…”
“Hey.” Ronan touched his hand, and Jonas jolted, but he didn’t pull away. “The people of Cherry Creek have survived a lot, okay? We used to have a kosher bakery and there’s not a synagogue or another Jewish person for like fifty miles.”
Jonas let out a tense laugh. “What happened to it?”
“Levi and his brother used to own it after their grandmother died,” Ronan said, feeling a pang of missing Bette. “But it was hard to stay afloat when there was no real market for it. Levi moved on to his food truck, and Simon moved on with his porn star.”
Jonas choked a little. “Porn star?”
“His name is Rocco. He showed up here and swept Simon off his feet and carried him off into the sunset.” Ronan smiled a little to himself, because for all that he and Simon had never really been friends, Simon deserved that happy ending.
“Why does it sound like you’re being literal?” Jonas asked.
Ronan shrugged. “Because I am. Mostly. They met on Twitter, and he fell in love over a couple of text messages. Simon and Levi sold the bakery to Wilder. It’s that gluten-free cupcake store now.”
Jonas’ smile was soft, less panicked, and he leaned into Ronan slightly. “There’s so much history here, you know? So much life.”
“Yes,” Ronan told him. “There is. And your dad—no matter what he does—he’s not going to ruin that. People have tried, and they’ve failed.”
“Still, if I can make a difference…” Jonas trailed off with a quiet sigh.
Ronan set his plate down, then took Jonas’ and set it on the bench across from him before turning to face him. His hand moved to Jonas’ cheek, cupping it without really being aware of himself. He was acting on want, on instinct. He could feel Jonas’ hot breath, feel him tremble, and he knew he should pull away. “You already have made a difference. The fact that you care is everything.”
“It isn’t enough,” Jonas breathed out.
Ronan pressed his palm harder to Jonas’ flushed skin. “You devalue yourself, and I can’t force you to see your own worth. Believe me, people have tried with me, and I know it doesn’t work that way. But I’m happy to remind you whenever I can. I like you.”
“I…Ronan…”
Ronan knew this was it. The moment, the leap. He licked his lips. “We like you. Parker and I like you.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Jonas whispered.
“It’s a lot, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to drop it on you like this, but it’s all we can talk about since the day you showed up at my office. We’re happy to be just friends, but we want more.”
“You want to hook up?”
Ronan closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. He dropped his hand to Jonas’ shoulder and let his thumb rub lines along the side of his neck. What he wanted was to kiss him, to hold him, to pour everything he meant into his touch because he was never great with words. That was Parker.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and then there was the acrid smell of smoke as Fitz let off a test firework. Ronan jolted, but kept his hand tight on Jonas.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but we want to know you better. We both know you have to go back eventually. I don’t know where this can go, but if you’re interested…”
Jonas bowed his head and his eyes closed. “I don’t know.”
“If you want us?”
“If I can inflict all of my fucking mess of a life,” he gestured at himself angrily, “on you both. You’re so happy.”
“You’ve seemed not totally miserable since you got here,” Ronan offered.
Jonas’ laugh was only slightly bitter. “A wild compliment.”
Ronan traced the edge of Jonas’ jaw with his thumb, making him tremble. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”
Jonas laughed and shook his head, leaning into the press of Ronan’s thumb. “God, no. But aren’t you worried what people might think?”
“Parker has never worried, and I haven’t worried about that in years,” Ronan assured him, and he meant it. “They know me here. They know I’m not going to openly cheat on my husband in the middle of a Fourth of July picnic.”
Jonas’ laugh was a little softer this time. “Oh.”
“Look, if this is too much for you…”
His words stopped when
Jonas reached up and curled a hand around Ronan’s wrist. Thunder rumbled again, and the wind picked up. The scent on the air was full of ozone and petrichor. It felt electric.
There was another boom this time, and the sky lit up in a shower of sparks. Jonas gasped, his face turned up, lit by a million flecks of light. And Ronan knew, in that moment, he was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. He couldn’t look away, and he couldn’t let Jonas go.
“Beautiful,” the other man said with a hint of a smile. His expression of sweet wonder almost gutted him, and Ronan let out a trembling breath.
“Yes.”
When he spoke, Jonas finally looked at him. His eyes were wild, a little frantic, and he curled one hand into the front of Ronan’s shirt. Thunder boomed again, and he jolted almost into his arms.
“Are you scared of storms?”
“No,” Jonas said, and he blinked up at Ronan through his dark lashes. “I’m scared that my heart is going to beat out of my chest.”
Ronan chuckled and touched his jaw again, leaning in close—close enough to touch, though he didn’t close the distance. Not yet. “Good thing we know a doctor, hmm?”
Jonas laughed, a little frantic, and then he pushed in, and suddenly, they were kissing. It was unexpected, breath-stealing, and Ronan took a moment to collect himself before he dug his hands into Jonas’ sides and held him. His mouth parted, allowing Jonas to dip his tongue inside, to taste him. It was sour and spicy, full of all these new things that made Ronan’s head spin, made his dick hard, made every fiber of his being want.
Ronan cupped his face, breaking off into a series of soft, careful pecks across Jonas’ plush mouth, then pressed their foreheads together. “Don’t run.”
“I…” Jonas started, but another voice spoke.
“I’m gone for ten minutes, and you swoop in to steal my husband? Not exactly the night I had planned.”
Ronan felt it, right when the moment broke, when all of Jonas’ doubt and fear came crashing down. He could have strangled his husband with his own words if he had the power. He tried to stop Jonas from rising, from tripping over his own feet, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.
Jonas was running, and the sky began to open up, and Ronan stared at Parker with his heart in this throat.
“I didn’t think he’d take me seriously,” Parker defended.
Ronan grabbed his crutch and smacked him on the thigh with it. “If you really want this, if you really want him, you better fucking run. Because I can’t.”
Parker swallowed thickly, and then his shoes hit the pool deck in a rapid rhythm as he took off, and Ronan sank back to the bench. The rain was coming down harder, and he put his face in his hands, wondering if it was all broken before it could even begin.
Chapter Nineteen
The rain made the deck slick, but Parker managed to catch up to Jonas and seize him by the back of his shirt without falling and braining himself on the hard concrete. And maybe it was a miracle, or maybe it was the universe allowing himself to make up for the double fuck-ups, but Jonas let Parker slow him down.
In truth, he wasn’t equipped for this. He wasn’t equipped to bear his soul, to allow himself weakness in the eyes of others. He’d been using violence and humor to deflect the judgment of others since he could remember. And somehow, Ronan had seen past all of that. Somehow, Ronan had taken it and loved him anyway, and Parker had long-since stopped being afraid of what they had.
But Jonas was different. He was new. He was this soft, tender, vulnerable thing who had the power to hurt him. Hell, he had the power to make Ronan turn his head, and while Parker liked it, it also sent him reeling, because he had never thought, even for a minute, that a person like him existed.
“I’m sorry,” he said as they stumbled to a halt, his voice rising over the downpour. Rain dripped into his eyes, and he brushed it away with an impatient hand. His other arm flexed with his stump, the fingers closing in Jonas’ shirt to keep him from taking off. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It sounded like you did,” Jonas said. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hug his middle, but Parker’s arm was in the way, and he refused to move it. “I can’t be the man who ruins what you have with him.”
Parker went entirely soft inside and lifted his hand to Jonas’ cheek. “You’re amazing, and you’re gorgeous, and funny, and I think highly of you. But no one has the power to come between me and my husband.”
Jonas finally dared to look up.
“There is nothing in this universe that could take away from how we love each other. And we want this with you, but you need to know that, first and foremost. I would give up anything for him, and he would for me.”
Jonas bit his lower lip, and Parker found himself wanting to lean forward and soothe it with his tongue until Jonas stopped abusing pieces of himself. He finally took a breath and let his hand close over Parker’s prosthetic wrist. Like Ronan, Jonas touched that arm like it was flesh, like it could feel. “I’m scared.”
Parker laughed, the rain coming down harder. Thunder cracked, and he worried for a moment about Ronan. No one would just let him sit, no one would let him fall, but Parker wanted to be with him and Jonas both. “We should get to shelter.”
“Yes,” Jonas said in a voice so low, Parker had to read the word on his lips.
Neither of them moved, and Parker glanced down to see Jonas rubbing circles on his wrist with his thumb. His thumb brushed over Jonas’ bottom lip. “Did you like it? Kissing him?”
“Yes,” Jonas said again.
Parker pressed in harder, backing Jonas against a tree. Jonas’ eyes were blinking rapidly, wide and dark, and his lashes clung together with the rain drops. He was shivering, and he looked both wanton and terrified, and Parker nosed along his cheek before whispering into his ear. “Do you want to kiss me?”
Jonas slowly wrapped one arm around him and gripped the back of his shirt. “Yes.”
Yes, yes, yes. The word was like a symphony falling from Jonas’ lips, open and willing. It was something Parker had never even considered wanting, but now didn’t think he could live without. It was new and unknown and terrifyingly wild, and yet he felt grounded by it.
Parker reached up with a careful hand and pulled Jonas’ fogged, wet glasses from his nose. He folded them and pushed them into his front pocket, then leaned in. “Kiss me.”
Jonas froze, and for a moment, Parker thought it was ruined. Then Jonas went onto his toes and gripped Parker by the back of the neck and did just that. His lips were wet and cold, firm from the way he was tense and shivering, and yet his tongue was molten hot as it slid along Parker’s and devoured him.
Parker groaned, his dick instantly hard, and he pressed it into Jonas’ hip for one long, frenetic moment. “We have to move,” he gasped when he tore his mouth away. “We’re going to catch our death out here.”
Jonas looked over Parker’s shoulder, then smiled. “Your husband is watching us.”
Parker blinked, startled, then glanced back and found Ronan just a few feet away. His knuckles were white where they gripped his crutch handles, and he was soaked.
“We need to get dry,” Jonas said. “Let’s go to my room.”
Parker wasn’t entirely sure that was the best idea. Kissing was one thing, but he didn’t trust himself to have the best control after everything that just happened. But he looked over at Ronan and saw him—hands pale from the cold, body starting to shut down, and he knew they didn’t have a choice.
“Lead the way,” Parker said, sliding away from Jonas and moving to grip Ronan by the waist. It said something about the way Ronan felt right then that he didn’t try to push Parker away, and instead, he leaned on him as he tried to keep his crutch tips from slipping on the wet concrete.
The pool deck was almost entirely cleared out, and Parker could see guests milling around in the dining room as they tried to reclaim the party. He was glad to be away from it, though, glad to separate himself from that chaos while he tried to
figure out if this was going to work.
He was shivering by the time they got to Jonas’ room, and Ronan’s legs were barely moving as they crossed the threshold. A blast of cold air from the AC hit him, and Ronan groaned before Jonas jumped into action and turned it off. He hit the fan switch next, then darted out of the room and came back with an armful of towels.
“There are robes too. I’d offer you clothes, but I don’t think you’d fit in them.” It was cute, the way he babbled, the way his eyes were wide, and his cheeks were almost purple with his blush. His clothing stuck to every line and every curve, and his curls turned into ringlets along his forehead.
“Robes will be great. And you need to change,” Parker ordered.
Jonas rolled his eyes a little, but he darted back into the bedroom and came back with everything bundled in his arms. “Do you want a shower?”
“No,” Ronan grit out, moving away from Parker to reach the sofa. “Just…dry.”
Parker approached Jonas and eased the robes out of his arms before putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Go dry off. Shower if you need to. We’re not going to run out on you.”
Jonas licked his lips, then turned on his heel and hurried out, leaving Parker standing in the middle of the room.
“Can you help me?” Ronan asked, his voice tight.
Parker snapped out of his head, then hurried over and grabbed Ronan’s shirt by the hem, peeling it off his skin. He went for the shoes and socks next, piling them on the floor, out of the way. The jeans were harder, and Parker eased him lengthwise along the cushions before popping the button and pulling the zipper down.
The water had made it through the thick denim and into his boxers, so Parker removed those, then undid the straps on his orthotics. Ronan’s feet were pale white and limp, unresponsive as he ran his hands over them, and he looked up to see Ronan watching him.
“How bad?”
Ronan shrugged. “Been better, been worse.”
It was his standard answer for when things were fucking terrible, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so Parker busied himself with getting his husband dry, then helping him into the robe. He put a towel down on the now-wet sofa, then helped Ronan shift over, grabbing his feet so they could rest up on the table.
