by Jay Hogan
With his breathing evening out, he dropped his arm and rested back against the wall. “So,” he said with the hint of a smile. “That happened.”
I chuckled. “It did. But I’m not complaining.”
A frown creased his brow. “Maybe you should. It was hardly part of our ‘agreement.’”
Those damn air quotes again. “Fuck the agreement.”
He stared at me, gaze narrowing. “But—”
“I was wrong. I’m sorry, Drake. I’ve mucked you around. I should’ve called. We should’ve talked earlier, kept in better touch.”
He narrowed his gaze, his face pale, eyes wary. “Yes, you should have. All I got was radio silence, other than some inane shit you wouldn’t even bother your mother with. It felt like you’d already left and were just finding a way to tell me. It’s been driving me nuts. When I had my come-to-momma moment in the hospital, you were the first to know. I came straight to you.”
“I was unconscious,” I deadpanned.
He shrugged. “Totally not the point. So why didn’t you call?”
Because I’m a fucking idiot. “Because I didn’t know what to say.”
Drake froze. He knew. I could see it on his face, could almost feel him pull his heart back into that cage of his. But he said nothing.
“I was, am, scared.”
“Scared,” he said the word flatly.
“Scared I’d only screw us up, screw you up.”
His mouth dropped open as disbelief turned into confusion, then annoyance, and his eyes took on a level stare that didn’t bode well. “Explain.”
I needed to wind the clock back on this train wreck. “Can we at least sit?”
“No. Now talk to me.”
Fuck. This wasn’t going well, although it was hard not to love prickly Drake in combat mode, but this was definitely not the time.
“Okay. I’ve been doing what I said. I talked to a gastroenterologist in hospital—”
He rolled his eyes. “You what? Jesus, Caleb. Anyone with Crohn’s would know as much or more than they do, and it entirely depends on which one you talked to. They can be really—”
“Negative? Yeah, so I found out.”
Drake chewed on his cheek for a second. “Not all of them, but fuck, I wish you’d asked me first. I could’ve given you a name.”
I blew out a stuttered sigh. “Yeah, I should have. I know that now. Anyway, he said pretty much what you’d expect.”
“I bet he did. And it scared you?”
I met his eyes. “Much though I hate to admit it, it did.” I leaned against the opposite wall, leaving a meter, a fucking universe between us.
He waited.
Okay, then. I took a deep breath. “I know everyone is different, and it’s not that I’m worried about surgeries, or any of that shit. It’s more that I don’t want to let you down. You were right. I’ve never had a relationship, and I had no real idea, and hearing it all laid out in stark black-and-white relief, it kind of hit me. I could hurt you. I could hurt you really bad”—my voice cracked—“and I can’t be responsible for that.”
Drake pushed off the wall, but I held a hand out to stop him from coming closer.
“It wasn’t just the doctor I talked to. The social worker put me on to a support group for partners. Did you know about that?”
Drake nodded. “I did, but I haven’t even used the one for Crohn’s sufferers themselves much, some online questions but that’s about it… though that’s gonna change.”
I cocked a brow. Now that was news. But I needed to say my piece first. “Well, I spoke to a guy, Evan, whose wife has Crohn’s”―I could see I’d surprised Drake, but he said nothing―“and he was… great, actually. I learned a lot….” I paused as a flutter of nerves ran through my belly.
“But?”
I smiled wryly. “But, he confessed to nearly screwing up their relationship. Getting too intense, too involved in every little thing and losing himself, becoming angry and pulling back, and….” I looked him in the eye. “They nearly divorced.”
“Caleb, you can’t—”
“He was better than me, Drake. If he nearly fucked up, what chance do I have? I couldn’t do that to you.” Drake blurred in front of me as I choked back the emotion.
His eyes darkened to flinty pools, and he glared. “And what makes you think I’d let you?”
Huh? “I’m not sure—”
“No. It’s my turn. Who the hell do you think you are? I thought we’d agreed on this already. There are two in this relationship, Caleb. You don’t get to do anything to me. Just like I don’t get to decide all relationship shit on my own either—”
Now that rang a bell.
“—this isn’t a dictatorship on either side, and I’m not some meek and mild fragile doormat. So this Evan, whoever it was, made some mistakes? So what? Everyone, in any relationship, makes mistakes. We’ll make mistakes too. You and I.”
“But it’s different with Crohn’s….”
“No, it’s really not. Fuck my health. I’ll survive. I’m a person, not a disease, and I’m not letting this damn condition take away the best thing to ever happen to me―you. The trouble as I see it right now, though, is that it’s not actually the Crohn’s taking you away—it’s you.”
Well, shit. “I thought you were worried about the impact on your health if we don’t make it?”
He had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Yeah, well, some of us have learned something.”
I bit back a smile. “Really? Who are you and what have you done with the real Drake Park?”
He blushed. “Prim said something important. That you can never know if a relationship will survive a crisis. That the unknown is part of the deal. But if there’s enough love and determination, then you have a head start on the rest of the field. And we’ll never know if we have what it takes either, not ahead of time at least. That’s what faith is. I don’t need you to promise not to hurt me. I know you will, just like I’ll hurt you. All I need is for you to love me and to want to do whatever it takes. Because I sure as fuck love you, Caleb Ashton.”
Holy shit. I hadn’t dared believe, and hearing the words―well, that meant everything. My stomach sank from my throat to safer climes for the first time since I’d opened the door.
“Do you? Love me, Caleb?” Nerves skittered through his eyes as they held mine.
Yes. “Yes. Jesus, Drake.” I reached over and snagged his hand, bringing it to my lips. “It was never about loving you. I’ve known I loved you for a long, long time. You mean the world to me.”
“Okay, then. I’m glad we’re clear on that.” A huge grin spread across his face and his eyes sparkled.
I reached out with my arms, but he held up a hand.
“But on that note, there’s one other thing.”
“Okaaaaay.”
“You seem to think I’m the only one with a condition here. What if I can’t cope?”
I frowned. “What?”
He cocked his head. “What if your ‘memory problems’ or concussion issues don’t get better? What if they stop you from working? What if you get depressed? What if you get kidney disease in your only functioning kidney? What if you end up on dialysis? What if you can’t get a donor? What if it’s you who ends up having the bigger health problems, not me?” He eyed me pointedly.
He was right. Holy crap. Like I should need to be hit over the head with it, but yeah… I kind of did. We didn’t know what the future held for either of us. If I did lose my other kidney, could we survive two major health issues between us? Should that stop us from trying? What had Prim said? You go in with enough love and faith, and then you just have to do the work. No guarantees, no assumptions. Any scenario where Drake was in the picture was light years better than any where he wasn’t. No contest. And that was the point he was trying to make.
I asked, “Do you need to think about it?”
He laughed. “No I fucking don’t.”
Jesus, was it really that simpl
e? Of course it was. I bit back a smile and the urge to shove him against the wall and get lost in his mouth. Instead, I cradled his face and pressed the softest of kisses on those plump lips and then rested them there, breathing him in.
He sighed against my lips and relaxed into the touch, opening for me just enough to slip a tiny taste of him onto my tongue. I kissed his nose and then tilted his head down so I could do the same to each eye and cheek before peppering a line of them across his forehead and back down to his lips. Then I pulled him against me and nuzzled into that spectacular hair as I’d wanted to do from the first second I laid eyes on him at my door, drawing the scent of him deep into my heart as my lips hovered by his ear.
“I love you, Drake Park.” And holy shit, I’d actually said it again, and without prompting. And yes, I fully expected the ground to open and swallow me up. It didn’t. How about that?
He wriggled deliciously against me. “I think I missed that.”
I moved my head, placing my lips against his ear. “No you didn’t. You heard me.”
He pulled back and stared up at me, biting on his lower lip.
I pressed a kiss there as well.
He straightened his back. “Maybe, but, um, can you say it again?” He side-eyed me sternly. “I did have to ask the first time, after all.”
Fucking adorable. “I love you, Drake Park. Totally, ridiculously, shockingly love you. From your pissy attitude to your sweet arse and every glorious inch around and in between.”
He threw me a dazzling smile as he reached out so his finger could trace the contours of my lips. My mouth wrapped around the tip of his finger and drew it in for a moment as his gaze zeroed in. Then I let it go.
In a second he was all up in my face, hands smooshing my cheeks and eyes glittering with what looked like tears mixed with enough heat to incinerate me on the spot. “Just once more,” he demanded.
I’d give him anything he wanted. I stared deep into those blown black orbs, held my gaze still, and put every bit of emotion I could into my answer. “I love you.”
His eyes searched mine, darting back and forth as we held our places, barely a hair’s breadth apart. Then he drew my head down and kissed me soundly, stealing all my breath and the last piece of my heart. “I love you too, Caleb Ashton.” He buried his head against my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my neck with a deep contented sigh.
I grabbed two handfuls of his arse as he sighed and murmured something I couldn’t quite catch.
I pulled back. “What was that?”
He smiled coyly and kissed my chin. “I said you better have some pretty good bedroom follow-through in the next few minutes after all that, or I might just have to rethink the whole not breaking up thing.”
I studied him for a second. “Are you—?”
His hand covered my mouth. “Now I know you’re not gonna ask if I’m sure, right? ’Cause that would kind of ruin the whole moment we’ve got going on here.”
I shook my head, remembering Evan’s warning.
“Excellent.” He removed his hand, running a finger down my cheek and across my lips, and once again, the tip of my tongue caught it as it passed. He paused, a shiver running through him. “The more important question is, are you too sore for a bit of making out on your bed?”
I nipped at his nose. “Try and stop me. The doctor just said to listen to my body, or words to that effect. That and maybe I should take the lazy role.” I grinned widely at the immediate outrage on Drake’s face and drew his finger back into my mouth.
“Lazy? Who the fuck is he calling lazy?” He narrowed his gaze. “Oh, I see what you did there. And don’t think this gets you out of anything,” he said thickly, eyes glued to where I sucked obscenely on his finger. “I still expect full disclosure on the last six days.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled. “Full disclosure. Got it.” I sucked the digit deep enough to swallow around it, which got him squirming, and yeah, he was well past half-mast against my thigh and hunting for friction. I pressed in and gave it to him.
“Holy shit.” He sucked in a breath and cleared his throat. “So, about that ‘lazy’ thing….” He dragged his gaze up to meet mine. “I have it on good authority someone’s arse was put on offer, when required… ugh.” He snaked his free hand between us to grab at my dick.
I bit down on his knuckle and released his finger, keeping us eyeball to eyeball. I wanted this crystal clear in his head. “Any time, any place. I’ve waited a long time to feel that gorgeous cock of yours… somewhere—thighs, arse, mouth, I’m not fussy.”
His pupils blew wide and he flushed brightly. “Jesus, Caleb. You can’t say shit like that. But your stitches? We can’t just—”
I leaned my forehead onto his. “Let me worry about that. We’ll just take things slow and see where it leads, huh?”
“Okaaaay. So, um, now, then?”
I smiled as he struggled to keep the anticipation out of his expression. “Now—” I kissed those perfect lips again. “—would be perfect.”
His dazzling smile flooded me with warmth. “Does that mean we can move from the hallway?” He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “To the bedroom, maybe?”
“You read my mind.” I grabbed his hand and ushered him ahead of me, mostly so he couldn’t see my slight limp, and not even trying to hide the fact that my eyes were all over his arse in those fitting chinos. Not as tight as he usually wore them, but Drake’s rear end would look spectacular in a dishrag. Jesus, and I’d nearly fucking thrown it all away. He turned and caught me midleer, smiled knowingly, and another notch in my throat loosened off. I’d be able to breathe any day now.
In the bedroom he pulled me into a searing kiss, then made a left into the en suite for… whatever. I let the spike of worry go. Don’t hover. He’s the expert, not you. Instead I set about losing the extra pillows from my bed, turning the charcoal duvet back, and throwing some supplies within reach. A twinge of pain flared in my side, but I stomped it down and swallowed a couple of ibuprofens to deal.
I had a minute or two to think that maybe we shouldn’t be rushing this, but that was as far as I got. Not only was Drake not ditching me, he apparently fucking loved me, which meant anything else could just take a number until after we’d had our fill of each other. It had been too long, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t wait for him to top me. Hell, I’d dreamed of damn near nothing else for two weeks. The guy was a bossy-as-fuck bottom, and I’d been fair dripping with anticipation wondering what he’d roll out like as a top, though I suspected I’d only get a hint of that today. Drake would be careful not to push things in my current state―maybe too careful for my liking. Still, if I didn’t get at least a taste, I’d be hellishly disappointed.
When he reappeared in the bedroom, we took one long look at each other, and it was pretty clear how it was gonna go. Too much had happened. Too many emotions, too much hurt, too many questions. We both needed to ground ourselves in the other, in something that was true and solid and breathtaking. In… us.
It was never gonna be pretty. A two-second shared look and it was all on. I kept the odd stab of pain and woolly-headedness to myself as Drake took the word “lazy” at face value and had me stripped in record time before adding his own clothes to the pile. A quick second to roll our hungry eyes over each other’s naked bodies, and then he eased me flat and carefully crawled up my body till he straddled my hips without pressing down on my side.
Neither of us was looking for any kind of extended foreplay, that much was clear, both our cocks dripping and hard as nails. Hell, I’d been ready for him at the front door, but the unexpected swipe of his tongue across my nipple had me gasp and arch into the mattress nonetheless. It jerked at my wound, and I winced, stilling his mouth instantly.
He immediately pulled off. “Fuck, Caleb, I’m an idiot. Let me look.” Without waiting for an answer, he manhandled me onto my side and checked the wound with a professional eye. “Looks okay. How sore? Be honest.”
I nod
ded. “A little, but don’t you dare stop. I want this. I’ll be fine. I’m ten days post-op, and if I can damn well vacuum, I can at least get a taste of this, right? Just… maybe slow it down.”
“Your head?”
I scowled. “Listen. If I can’t second-guess you, it goes both ways, understand? I’m supposed to listen to my body, and my body is still saying ‘hell yeah.’”
He fought with himself for a moment, then dropped a kiss on my lips. “Maybe. But I think we’ll be doing this my way instead, understand?”
I chuckled. “Don’t we always?”
“Cheeky fucker. But we have time, Caleb. All the time in the world. I’m not gonna hurt you. So, on your side, whichever is more comfortable for you, and you are to just lie there, no grabbing the limelight, handsome.”
“You’re the boss.”
“And don’t you forget it. Now roll over. We’re slowing this train down. Lazy, remember?”
I did as I was told, and Drake set about driving me fucking insane as he slowly rocked my world. It began with a torturous mapping of my body with his wicked mouth, accompanied by long teasing strokes from those slender fingers over every inch of skin. His tongue danced its way down my body, taking its time in every nook and cranny and leaving a moist trail of heat in its wake. It cruised past my desperate cock with barely a lick, driving me to release a frenzied groan of frustration.
He chuckled, pushed me gently onto my side, moved my top leg forward, and licked his way down to the small of my back and then between my cheeks. He licked at my sac, rolling my balls in his mouth one at a time before nestling that wicked tongue just behind. From there he proceeded to tease at my hole, rolling his tongue over and around it till I was seconds away from grabbing his damn head and shoving the thing exactly where I needed it.
A muffled chuckle was quickly followed by a warm rush of excruciating delight as the tip of his tongue finally, finally entered me and slowly, slowly began to fuck me. A finger was added to the mix and then another. I gasped into the pillow I’d pulled against my chest to keep from flying to the ceiling with every swipe of that sinful tongue.
