Unlovable

by Charity Parkerson

  “Yes, sir,” Tim said, pulling from the parking lot.

  “I guess that answers any questions I might have about how vexed you are by this errand. You’ve only called me ‘sir’ about three times in all the years you’ve been with me.”

  Since he liked his job, Tim held his tongue. It was his place to do whatever Kano needed, and it was hardly Kano’s fault Tim had decided to dine where he worked. That was always a big mistake. He was an adult and a professional. Tim could do this, and that was what he told himself all the way to Rylan’s house. It took every second of his half-hour drive of taking Kano to work, and another half hour of his drive to Rylan’s, for Tim to mentally prepare. Rylan owned a cottage-style home outside the city in the best school district. For not the first time, Tim smiled at the image of someone as flamboyant as Rylan making small talk with the neighborhood soccer moms. Then again, Rylan liked wine… and dick, so maybe they had more in common than Tim had given him credit for.

  Rylan opened the door without greeting Tim or meeting his gaze. Tim wasn’t surprised Rylan wasn’t ready to go. Being beautiful was hard work—apparently.

  “Give me five,” Rylan said, waving Tim inside.

  Tim silently followed Rylan inside while grinding his back teeth. They hadn’t spoken in three weeks, and all Rylan had to say was he needed five more minutes. Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room, Tim settled in to wait. Rylan moved around the room, tossing makeup and styling products into a rolling bag. It was obvious he hadn’t expected to work today. Tim cut him some slack since he knew too well how last minute and demanding Kano could be.

  The phone rang beside him, startling Tim. His heart raced into his throat. He jumped away and eyed the nearby counter. “Who still has a house phone these days?”

  “I do,” Rylan said, moving to answer when it rang again.

  Tim’s eyes slid toward the device without thought, catching sight of the caller ID by accident. Wash. Victim’s Advo was the type of shit he would’ve ignored. Nobody had time to listen to a pitch for donations. It seemed Rylan didn’t feel the same. The man’s hand hovered over the phone, as if hesitant to answer. Tim fought an eye roll when Rylan snatched it up. Of course, he wasn’t concerned over making Tim wait.

  “Hello? This is he.”

  Tim eyed Rylan as the man listened to whatever. He looked pale—like he was getting sick. Maybe Adam had spread his flu germs. Had they been around each other lately? Rylan chewed on his bottom lip. Tim hated how badly he wanted to taste Rylan. He equally didn’t want to get shut down today, so he wouldn’t try.

  “I see. Thank you.” Rylan hung up without saying goodbye. He stared at his hand for a moment before releasing the receiver. If Tim didn’t know better, he would’ve sworn it shook. “Tell Kano I can’t make it. Something’s come up.”

  Tim’s slight irritation exploded into hot rage. He was sick of Rylan’s inconsiderate behavior. The man didn’t give a fuck about anyone else—not their schedules or their feelings. “Goddamn it, Ry. You always pull shit like this. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

  “Not today, Tim,” Rylan said, sounding tired.

  With a growl, Tim threw his hands in the air. He was over it. Rylan didn’t want to go to work, even after Tim had made the drive, what the fuck ever. Kano could deal with it. Tim was exhausted with all things Rylan. Without another word or a backward glance, Tim let himself out. He stopped outside the front door and dialed Kano’s cell.

  “It’s too soon for you to have returned,” Kano said by way of a hello.

  “Rylan is—” A loud crash sounded on the other side of the door, cutting Tim off. He turned and eyed the door. Another loud noise—like glass shattering, sounded from the other side.

  A sigh came through the line. “Rylan is what?”

  “Hold on,” Tim said absently. He let himself back inside. Another bang had Tim jumping. Splintered wood flew across the opening of the foyer. Tim inched his way inside, hoping he didn’t get hit by flying debris. He rounded the corner and froze. A bat-wielding Rylan had already destroyed half the living room. There were holes in the wall and the glass coffee table was smashed to pieces. It looked as if the man had cleared the bookshelves and mantel during his batting practice. Rylan never looked his way as he continued destroying the room.

  “Something has come up,” Tim said, hearing how dead his voice had gone. “Rylan can’t make it.” Tim hung up without giving any further explanation. He turned his phone off because he knew Kano. The man would call back the instant he realized Tim had hung up on him. Tim was a little scared of Rylan’s reaction if startled by a ringing phone at the moment. He didn’t know what to do. Rylan looked out of his head. He didn’t doubt for a second the man would go after him if Tim tried intervening, so he didn’t move. After what felt like an hour, Rylan finally stopped. His shoulders heaved like he’d run a marathon. After casting a slow glance around the room, as if eyeing his work, the bat fell to the floor with a thud. Still, he never acknowledged Tim’s presence, even though Tim was certain the man knew he was there. Without a word, Rylan headed for his bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.

  Tim stared at the mess—speechless. He’d always known Rylan was a passionate person with a hot temper, but what the fuck? Whatever that phone call had meant to him had obviously been huge. Tim wasn’t above snooping. He moved to the kitchen and snatched up the phone. Without an ounce of shame, he hit redial. It rang twice.

  “Washington State Victim’s Advocacy,” a friendly sounding female voice said.

  Tim cleared his throat. “Um, I’m calling on behalf of Rylan Santos.”

  “Has he changed his mind about hearing the release details?”

  Tim nodded before he remembered she couldn’t see him. He blamed his shock. “Yes, but he’s upset. I told him I would call.”

  She made a noise. He assumed it was meant to relay pity. “This is always a hard day for victims. You know, when your rapist is sitting in prison, your first hope is they’ll serve out their entire sentence. But I guess, even after fifteen years, Rylan couldn’t face him at the parole hearing. Maybe if he’d shown up…” She trailed off and hummed. “It just breaks my heart. Tell Rylan that Edward Yearly’s release date is October sixteenth. Obviously, he’s not to have any contact with Rylan. If he should hear from Mr. Yearly, he should contact us immediately and we’ll take every step possible to make sure Yearly’s right back behind bars. I realize he’s taken every precaution to ensure he’s not found, and Mr. Yearly isn’t allowed to leave the state of Washington, but sometimes that doesn’t matter to these people. Additionally, if Rylan needs to talk, we’re here twenty-four hours a day.”

  The vise tightening Tim’s throat made it hard to respond. “I’ll let him know. Thank you.” Tim replaced the receiver and stared at the wall. He had nothing. If it had been fifteen years, then Rylan would’ve been sixteen. He’d known Rylan was originally from Washington and never went back there, but he hadn’t gone digging for information. Fuck. Tim wanted to kill someone. He equally needed to help. Rylan would never let him. Tim knew that, but he couldn’t leave. After picking his way through the trashed living room, Tim let himself inside Rylan’s bedroom. Thankfully, he hadn’t destroyed that room—yet. The clothes Rylan had been wearing were in a pile on the floor. Steam rolled from the open bathroom door, but no sounds of splashing emerged. Tim picked up the pace. He didn’t think Rylan was the type to hurt himself. Then again, Tim didn’t think he knew Rylan at all.

  Rylan’s bathroom was worthy of a man who spent a lot of time on his appearance. It was huge, with one wall dedicated to a massive walk-in rain shower. A bathtub sat in the center of the room. The rest of the large space was mirrors and vanities. Rylan stood beneath the shower. Water beat down on the man’s bowed head. His chin lifted as Tim stepped into the room. The fist squeezing Tim’s heart tightened. Rylan’s eyes looked dead. With no real plan in mind, Tim pulled his gun from his belt and emptied
his pockets on the counter before toeing off his shoes. That was as far as he made it before he couldn’t wait another second. He stepped inside the shower with Rylan, fully clothed, and didn’t stop until he had Rylan backed against the wall. The water molded Tim’s shirt to his skin. Rylan shocked him by clinging to his chest. The man never made a sound. Rylan’s silence was deafening. With his face buried against the crook of Tim’s neck, Rylan let Tim hold him. Despite the scalding water, Rylan shook. Tim didn’t know if it was rage or fear. He’d never been a man of many words. Today, Tim had less than that.

  He stroked Rylan’s back until the water turned cold. It took some maneuvering, but Tim managed to shut off the water without releasing his hold on Rylan. Since he didn’t want to soak Rylan’s floors, he tugged at his clothes. Rylan gave him some room, but the man’s gaze never moved from the floor. Tim didn’t want Rylan to think this was sexual. Having some nude guy pawing at him was the last thing Rylan needed right now. After struggling out of his wet clothes, Tim grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around his hips before getting another for Rylan. He scrubbed the water from Rylan’s body before lifting the man into his arms. Fear tightened its hold on Tim’s throat when Rylan still didn’t react. After Tim tucked Rylan into bed, he circled around and climbed in beside him. Rylan rolled to his side, facing Tim. The man’s eyes looked out of focus—as if the only thing Rylan saw was whatever was inside his head. Tim wasn’t sure he blinked as he stared at the man beside him. Clear of all makeup and attitude, Rylan was the most beautiful man Tim had ever seen. Obviously, given the number of times Tim had fallen on Rylan like a horny teenager, he always found Rylan attractive. This was different. There was a vulnerability to Rylan that Tim was certain he never let anyone see. Tim saw it now, and he’d never look at Rylan the same. He’d never unsee the light smattering of freckles across Rylan’s nose or the way Rylan’s beautiful eyes looked when he let go of the hard-ass attitude. Tim couldn’t look away. Rylan was one of those men who looked ten years younger than his real age. Free of makeup, he barely looked eighteen. Tim realized something he never had before that moment—he cared. It mattered to him what happened to this man. If Rylan never spoke to him again, it would hurt. He’d worry over the man’s wellbeing if Rylan never texted him again. If Rylan never looked his way again, it would matter. Tim’s hand lifted without his permission. He stroked the line of Rylan’s jaw.

  Rylan blinked. He finally focused on Tim. “I don’t like to be touched.”

  Tim moved his hand. “Sor—”

  “Except by you,” Rylan said, interrupting him. “You’re different. When you’re holding me, I feel protected from the world. Would you kiss me?”

  It took everything Tim possessed to move slowly after that speech. He’d never expected to hear such an admission from Rylan. Tim was equally aware that Rylan wasn’t looking for more than a kiss. As he scooted closer, Tim made sure the lower half of his body didn’t touch Rylan. A towel wasn’t much protection. He held Rylan’s stare until the last moment before letting his eyes fall closed as their lips met. Tim let Rylan’s reactions guide him. The last thing he wanted was to push when Rylan was in no state for this. Their kiss was sweet—unlike any moment they’d shared before. Usually, they were an explosion of desire. Rylan moved closer and deepened their kiss. The man’s erection dug into Tim’s side, taking Tim by surprise. He caught himself caressing every inch of Rylan he could reach. No matter how hard he tried to hold his hands still, he couldn’t. Then, Rylan loosened Tim’s towel and pushed it aside. Tim didn’t remember moving, but he found himself settled between Rylan’s thighs. It had only been a few weeks since they last kissed. Tim swore it felt closer to a year. No one kissed like Rylan. The man surrendered to whatever move Tim made, always melting into his touch. Without thought, Tim’s hips moved, rocking against Rylan. A stuttered breath escaped Rylan as their cocks brushed. Tim felt it against his chest. After shifting his weight to his elbow, Tim reached between their bodies and palmed their erections. He stroked. The friction had Tim’s hips rolling again. Each move they made was slow and measured. Just as their kiss had been, they’d never made love as sweetly. Tim’s body was every bit as on fire as when they attacked each other. The pressure building from Tim’s toes and tightening his balls had nothing on whatever was happening with his chest. Something had shifted the moment their lips had met. With every passing moment and stroke of tongue against tongue, the sensation in his chest solidified into something permanent.

  With only the friction of their bodies, straining against each other, and Tim’s palm, Tim was on the edge of explosion. The way Rylan writhed beneath him said a lot about how close he was to orgasm.

  Tim pulled away and pressed his forehead against Rylan’s. He sucked oxygen, trying to hang on. “I want it,” Tim begged. “Let me feel your cum coating my skin.” Tim increased the pace. Rylan gasped. Hot liquid coated the space between them. Tim clenched his back teeth until he heard something pop. Ecstasy rolled down his spine, rocking him to his core as an orgasm overtook him. It wasn’t his intention to hold Rylan’s stare for every second, but he couldn’t stop. Rylan had never looked at Tim the way he was now. Tim was mesmerized. He didn’t know how much time passed before he dug through the blankets and found his towel to clean them. The moment he tossed the towel aside, Tim tugged Rylan into his arms—another first. Rylan had never let Tim simply hold him. They’d never cuddled. They fucked and went their separate ways. The longer they stayed like this, the more Tim wanted to kill someone. He’d been trying to keep all his thoughts locked in a box for Rylan’s sake. Someone had hurt Rylan—shaped him into a man who was hard and cold.

  “Thank you for staying,” Rylan said, sounding small and cutting through Tim’s black thoughts.

  Tim tightened his hold on Rylan. “Don’t thank me for that.”

  Rylan’s palm slid across Tim’s stomach, stroking him and making Tim’s eyelids heavy. Only his rage kept him awake. “You should take my gratitude. I don’t hand it out often.”

  “Don’t worry about any of that right now.”

  Rylan lifted his chin, meeting Tim’s stare. He didn’t say a word. Neither did Tim. The air thickened, making it harder for Tim to breathe. All the recent hopes and doubts he’d kept hidden rose back to the surface. Even when Rylan’s eyes fell closed, Tim never looked away from the man’s face. He couldn’t think about himself right now. Rylan still needed him. The moment Rylan fell asleep, Tim took it like a shot to the chest. Rylan’s face softened, making him look so damn young and vulnerable. Tim blinked, trying to pull his shit together. Too many revelations hit at once. This was a person—a real living and breathing human who Tim had been in a relationship with for two years. Maybe neither of them had said it, and it was possible Rylan slept with other people, but Tim didn’t. Since the first time he’d found himself inside Rylan with no clue how it happened, Tim hadn’t touched anyone else. Rylan’s passion was unmatched. Self-hatred overcame Tim. He’d been using Rylan. Outside of sex, Tim had never liked much else about the man.

  A ragged-sounding breath cut through the air. Tim realized it was his. He focused on Rylan, shoving his self-loathing aside. He needed to be there for Rylan right now. When Rylan woke up, his problems would still be there. Tim was a hands-on person. He needed to physically fix something. His gaze slid to the mess right outside the bedroom door. Rylan shouldn’t have to set that to rights. Tim knew from experience that was one of the hardest parts of snapping, knowing you’d be the one who had to reverse all the damage you wreaked.

  He had some cards to play. Tim held his breath and inched out from underneath Rylan. He moved slowly, making sure he didn’t wake him. Once he was sure Rylan was out cold, Tim hit the bathroom and found another towel and his phone. He eased from the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. Once he was out of danger of waking Rylan, Tim dialed Kano’s number.

  “You hung up on me,” Kano said, sounding cold.

  Tim rushed to pacify him, especially since he’d cal
led for a favor. “I know, but—”

  “And then refused to answer my calls,” Kano said, cutting him off.

  “I did that too, but—”

  “Do you like your job with me?” Kano asked, refusing to let Tim speak.

  Tim snapped. In his defense, it had been a bad day. “Goddamn it, Kano. I need your help.”

  Silence filled the line for half a second. “What do you need?”

  Tim sucked in a deep breath. This was why he thought the world of Kano. The man wouldn’t hesitate to help. That was why Tim had called him first. No one pulled off big favors the way Kano did.

  4

  The soft-looking gray t-shirt Tim wore had Rylan’s palms itching. He had no idea where Tim had found clothes, but Rylan wanted to touch him. Tim looked so damn soft in his sleep. Rylan rolled from the bed to keep from giving in to temptation. He quietly closed the bathroom door behind him to keep from waking Tim. The mirror caught his eye, freezing Rylan in his tracks. He stared at his reflection. It took every ounce of Rylan’s strength to stop himself from smashing the mirror. He hated the person staring back at him. It had been years since Rylan had seen him. He thought he’d killed this version of himself years ago. His gaze slid away and landed on Tim’s things. The man’s gun held his stare for longer than Rylan cared to admit. Rylan’s feet carried him in its direction. His hand lifted before he knew it would. At the last second, he grabbed Tim’s wallet instead. The leather felt expensive. Rylan turned it over in his hands before flipping it open. Tim’s stoic image stared up at him from the man’s driver’s license and carry permit. Rylan inspected every detail. Timothy Leon Wilkerson. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Six foot two. Two hundred and sixty pounds. Rylan didn’t doubt an ounce of it and it was all muscle. He’d been overwhelmed by every inch of the man, and protected. Rylan massaged his chest. No amount of rubbing would take away the ache. He tried concentrating on the contents of the man’s wallet instead. There was a gold card and several bills. A gold-wrapped condom was stuffed between them. Otherwise, the wallet was devoid of distractions. There were no pictures or strange phone numbers. Rylan imagined Tim kept those programmed in his phone. Oddly, that device was missing from the pile of things the man had pulled from his pockets earlier.