“Come with me, please,” Diego said as he headed for the sliding door. “I want to show you something.”
Healey followed him inside to the living room, where changes thoroughly distinguished the place from the home Healey had grown up in. It was a decent-sized room. Like their family had, Diego made the most of the space. It served as an office, a place to entertain guests, and a media room without being cluttered with furniture.
He’d given the walls a fresh coat of dove-gray paint and accented with vibrant blues. Light flooring and lots of living plants kept the room from feeling cold.
“The place looks nice.”
“Thanks.” Diego picked up the remote. “But what I wanted you to see is this.” He played a video clip of a woman standing in a field of sunflowers.
Healey studied her facial features and turned back. “Mother? Sister? She looks like you.”
“Mother.” Diego nodded. “She used to ask me if I liked taking no for an answer too. That was . . . like . . . her thing.”
Healey turned back to the screen. The woman had long dark hair and Diego’s hooded brown eyes. Full lips. “She’s very beautiful.”
A smile lifted the corners of Diego’s mouth. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“No.” Healey shook his head. “Sorry. I absolutely do not.”
Like he’d smashed Diego over the head with a hammer, the conversation halted suddenly. Awkwardly. “For real?”
Aw, man. Healey knew where this was going.
He’d stopped arguing with his pop and Nash and Fjóla and Shelby about shit like this. They wanted the world to be full of magic and it was . . . it really was.
Just not the way they hoped.
Science is the magic of reality.
“Oh, wow. Nope, I’m sorry. No to ghosts, ESP, and religion. No to all the lies humans tell themselves to explain the way the world is. We would be much better off exploring things scientifically.”
In the background, soft music played as Diego’s mother and the sunflowers looped again.
“You and me could not be more different,” Diego said finally.
“Because I don’t believe in spooks?”
“What about God?”
“Er. Nope. Sorry. I kind of see religion as a form of medieval crowd control.” Had Healey admitted that? Out loud?
Diego’s face turned to stone.
Healey was quick to reassure him. “You can believe whatever you want. Just because I don’t, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t if it makes you feel better about things.”
“That’s mighty magnanimous of you.” Diego’s cheeks darkened. “Knowing my beliefs are okay with you makes everything so much better.”
Healey dropped his smile. “Likewise, you’re allowing me to believe what I choose.”
“But you think religion is childish.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake! “I did not say your beliefs are childish. I said I don’t believe. If your faith is that fragile—”
“I did not say my faith was fragile,” Diego shouted. “Goddamn it, you piss me off.”
“You’ll probably find it hard to believe”—Healey fought a nervous grin—“but I get that a lot.”
Diego rolled a half foot forward, then back, then forward.
“You’re pacing,” Healey pointed out. “Why are you so pissed about what I believe?”
“You throw religion and superstition and ESP and ghosts in the same category.”
“Magical thinking, yes. But there are a fuckton of naturally occurring things that are so magical you wouldn’t even consider acknowledging something as silly as spiritualism.”
Wheels still, Diego asked, “Like what?”
“Crystals, for one thing. You have no idea how awesome crystals are. And coral reefs. And fractals. And fireworks, and—”
“My mother believed crystals have metaphysical healing power,” Diego admitted. “I guess you think that’s pretty stupid.”
“Anything can have a placebo effect,” Healey said gently. “A simple belief can change your body chemistry. A smile can do that. You can call it magic or miraculous if you want, but in reality, it’s biology.”
Diego’s gaze hardened. “And you don’t believe God could be the architect of all this?”
This always happens. You know it always happens and you talk about religion anyway.
Wincing, Healey said, “I can’t prove the existence of God. But I can prove the existence of the placebo response. The findings of scientists can be reproduced. My point is humans don’t need pretend magic, Stanford Quidditch excepted. The world is magical enough. Biodiversity is magical. People use science every day to solve problems and make the world a better place.”
Diego took up Healey’s theme but sarcastically. “And modern medicine is making new strides, I should be so grateful, and on and on.” Diego sounded exhausted. “I don’t see why everything’s always gotta be either-or with you people.”
“Us people?” Healey pointed to himself. “I’m a you people, now?”
“Science doesn’t explain everything.”
“It doesn’t,” Healey agreed, “yet. Maybe someday it will. My slice of the science pie is pretty small. I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers. Christ. This moment calls for a beer. When you move a guy’s shit, he’s supposed to buy you a beer.”
“Yeah, all right,” Diego agreed. “I have some in the fridge.”
“Unless you’d rather go out.”
“Don’t wanna stay in with me?” Diego challenged. “There’s beer in my fridge.”
All the breath left Healey’s body.
Diego seemed relaxed, his face blank. Yet he was tapping the tip of his pinky finger anxiously on the wheel of his chair. Healey doubted he even realized he was doing it. It was nice to know they were both nervous about this thing they were edging toward. Maybe if Healey was honest, it’d start things off on the right foot.
He got two bottles of beer, popped them open on the counter, and returned to find Diego putting away his laptop. The television was no longer on. Silence blanketed the house.
Diego seemed to be waiting for him to do something, because that’s pretty much what he’d said he’d do . . . So, no pressure there.
Healey offered Diego his beer. “You should probably know I’m not very good at this whole small-talk thing. I’m more big talk. The cosmos. The big questions. Who was the first human to verifiably put the bop in the bop-she-bop-she-bop.”
“What a surprise.” Diego took a swig. “He’s kidding around.”
“So what do you suggest I do?” Healey dragged a chair closer to Diego’s before sitting. “Got any ideas?”
“This is your seduction. What did you have planned?”
“Er . . . Begging, maybe?” Healey offered the sexy eyes. “Perhaps some groveling later if we get along?”
When Diego cracked a shy smile, Healey slipped from his chair, letting his knees hit the ground with a thud. He put his hands lightly on Diego’s knees, skimmed them up his thighs.
“How ’bout I just start right here? And we’ll see what comes up?”
“Wait. Stop.” Diego took Healey’s hands before they could unzip his jeans.
“Okay.” Healey stilled.
“Just— Wait. Sorry.”
“Okay?” Healey drew back warily, hands up like he was being robbed. “Better?”
“There are things we need to talk about—” Diego’s face lost some of its color while he spoke. “And honest to God, they are not sexy things and you still have to listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” Wariness almost edged out curiosity. “Do I want to hear this?”
“The human spine is exactly like a bundle of telephone wires—”
“Wait.” Healey gave the time-honored hand gesture for time-out.
“What?”
“My little sister, Shelby, has a T7 spinal cord injury, remember? I’m well aware of what a spine is.”
“Okay, then, in that case, there are two types of
erections—”
Healey blew out a deep breath. “I understand the mechanism, really. I don’t want to rush you. But can’t we maybe push past the intro and go straight to how I can get you off? Because right now, the only thing I can think of is watching you come.”
Aw . . .
Jesus Christ.
“You want to—”
“Get you off,” Healey specified. “Do you have a preference?”
“No, no, no, no . . .” Diego pushed his chair back and wheeled around so there was plenty of space between them. “Sit.”
Healey sat on the floor like a kindergartener. He was interested. Focused. He’d gone into student mode. Healey was a student of the universe and now Healey was ready to study him.
Awesome.
“It doesn’t happen like that. I’m sorry. I really am. But there’s things I need to do, and this isn’t—”
“All right. We can go at your pace. I only want you to know I’m not scared of—” Healey indicated Diego, and his wheelchair, and pretty much everything below his waist “—what’s going on there.”
Kill me now. Just . . . please let a hole in the ground open up.
“You want to know what? I’m scared, all right?” Diego thudded his chest. “I’m totally out of my comfort zone here. I could not be more out of my comfort zone if I was on an iceberg suspended over an active volcano.”
“So that’s a no?” Healey got to his knees. Eye level again. The man was insufferable. “Are you saying no to getting off? Because—”
“Not no.” As Healey drew closer, Diego gulped air.
When their lips were little more than a breath apart, Healey whispered, “I’d really like to kiss you. But that’s it for now, if you want. Okay?”
Healey tilted his head before coming closer. Warm soft lips pressed his. The light scrape of a beard roughened his upper lip. Healey smelled of coffee, hand sanitizer, and faintly, almonds. As he deepened their kiss, he tangled the fingers of his good hand in Diego’s hair.
Oh. Pleasure.
To be touched, to be cradled in human hands.
Baptized by breath and spit and spunk.
Kissing he could do. Kissing was good.
Plus, Healey brought a kind of determination to it. As though kissing was an end in itself. As though he had all the time in the world to explore how pressure and proximity made Diego’s breath catch in his throat. Made his heart race and his skin flush.
It’s all gonna stop when he slides his hands up my thighs, only to discover my junk is literally disconnected to my brain.
Healey didn’t seem fazed by that, but it was only a matter of time.
Awkward explanations would have to be made.
Understanding would dawn.
Healey would probably smile and nod the whole time they talked about it, but it wouldn’t be genuine.
If he was desperate enough, or horny enough, he’d stick around for the big finale. Maybe.
In the meantime, Healey was letting the fingers of his cast hand drift over Diego’s nipples—one of Diego’s remaining bona fide sweet spots. Healey couldn’t possibly know what he was doing, but ah, God, it felt so fucking good, Diego’s head fell back and his mouth dropped open.
Smooth.
At this point, it might be politic to tell Healey what he was doing in all innocence would make Diego “spasm” if he continued it long enough, because whatever capricious gods had been in charge of his body after his accident had a little fun rewiring him before they put him back together again.
“Someone likes this,” Healey observed almost clinically. “Need a little more pressure?”
“Mm-hmm.” Diego decompressed his spine for a few seconds, then sat himself forward slightly in the chair for balance before removing his shirt. Healey helped, and when Diego’s head finally popped out of the tight neck hole, they both laughed.
“You look like a baby owl.” Healey smoothed his hair. “This okay? Me touching you like this?”
Diego nodded.
God, yeah. That is more than okay.
He leaned forward, and their lips met again. Christ, he could kiss Healey all day.
He’d been drawn to Healey from the first. To those incredibly blue eyes.
His face was pale in the late-afternoon light. Faint freckles stood out in contrast, and bright, coppery beard hairs glinted when the light caught them just right. Healey gazed back at him without artifice. When Diego pulled the single oversized wooden pin that held Healey’s man-bun together, Healey’s dark, wavy hair spilled from it like a silky waterfall.
Oh, wow. Healey’s hair was so soft. That’s where the almond scent was coming from too. Now its fragrance surrounded them like an Amaretto mist.
Healey kissed like he couldn’t stop himself, and it was heady being on the other end of that. He dotted kisses over Diego’s jaw, down his neck, into the tender skin behind his ear.
He used lips and tongue and teeth.
Thumb and forefinger took hold of a nipple.
Then teeth.
Ah, Christ.
There was no way Diego could even describe how good that was.
Since his accident, Diego’s chest was a mass of confusing sensations, and it was utterly subjective—part arcane magicks and part performance art, he practically burst into flames wherever Healey touched him. Healey licked and bit his nipples, and then paid particular attention to his armpits.
Oh, that was a winner. Right there. Right. Goddamn. There . . .
Diego let his head fall back. A deeply embarrassing sort of chortle erupted from his throat, after which, it took him a minute to get control of his body again.
Healey stopped what he was doing. “What just happened here? Did you just ejaculate?”
“It’s complicated.” Diego pressed his lips together, because he couldn’t prove it to Mr. I-only-believe-what-I-see. “There’s no actual ejaculate . . . so I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“I touched your armpit and you came. Jesus, I wish I could do that.” Healey’s eyes widened. “It’s probably way not cool to say that though, huh?”
Diego glared. “Probably not cool at all. No.”
“Sorry. But you made a really, really good face just now.” Healey could be a smug son of a bitch when he wanted. “You liked that armpit thing, huh?”
Yeah he did. “It feels pretty good when you touch me there.”
“I guess so.” Insufferably smug. “You’re a wonderful kisser, Diego.”
Aw, now he had to go and spoil things by being sweet.
This time, it was Diego who reached out. He took Healey’s face between his hands and kissed him thoroughly. “You too.”
Maybe it was weird to get with a guy who’d only spilled into your life by accident one day, but it felt great.
He watched Healey’s hand roam over his lower leg. “Okay if I take your feet off the rests? I can get closer if they’re not there.”
Diego nodded. “Okay.”
Healey placed Diego’s right foot carefully on the ground before moving the footrest out of the way. Then he did the same with the left. With Diego’s legs loose, it was possible for Healey to push between his knees, bringing their bodies that much closer.
“You’re still in charge here. What do you want?”
“I could suck you.” Diego figured if Healey needed a little quid quo pro, he could oblige. He could offer his mouth. Teeing up an erection was like getting ready for a space mission, but things were what they were. “If you want me to fuck you, I need to shower. I have some things I do, and it takes time.”
Healey’s lips formed a small O of surprised understanding. “I see.”
Diego rattled his pinkie finger like the Titanic hit an iceberg and it was up to him to inform all the ships at sea.
He always did that.
It was his tell.
His stepsiblings made a fortune off him before they’d finally told him how they always knew he was bluffing.
Healey studied him. “You
look nervous.”
“Uh . . . Maybe.” Diego fidgeted.
Healey rubbed his face briefly, then held his hands out, wiggling his fingers like he was about to defuse a bomb. “In fact, you look ready to offer yourself up like a human sacrifice.”
He got so close Diego started worrying about the size of his pores. Then he leaped to his feet. “I was wrong about the beer. We need to go to Denny’s.”
“What? Why?” Healey Holly was going to give him goddamn whiplash. “There’s no Denny’s.”
“We don’t have to go there specifically. We could go anyplace that serves breakfast all day.” While Healey pulled out his phone, Diego pulled his T-shirt on. “I need to think about this. I have a billion questions. I mean . . . neural plasticity. It’s fascinating. I get physics. That’s what I do. But this is amazing. I’ve never met anyone who—”
“Stop.” To his credit, Healey froze. “A minute ago you were trying to get in my pants, but now you want to study me?”
“Hell no.” Healey took his hand and started backing up. Diego had no choice but to roll with him or put on the brakes. “I want to find out if you overcompensate for bad pancakes with butter or maple syrup. I want you to tell me your favorite memory, and what you drink to forget. I want to get to know you.”
In spite of himself, Diego laughed. “Healey.”
Healey bit his lower lip and let go. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
Caught you off guard, huh, Mr. Wizard. “I like the sound of it.”
Diego replaced his footrests before rolling to the foyer, where he grabbed the wall and stopped them both. “Keys.” He picked them off a sturdy hook by the door, along with his backpack.
They left the house. Diego rolled to the driveway, and while he waited for Healey, he donned a pair of fingerless gloves.
“You driving?” Healey asked.
“We can walk.”
Saying nothing, Healey fell into step beside Diego’s chair. He jammed his good hand in his pocket and stared straight ahead.
“Nah, wait.” Diego’s hand shot out to stop him. “Lemme tell you how this should go. When I tee you up like that? You take the swing.”
All Wheel Drive Page 9
