“What time is it?” I shift, my voice a groggy mess.
“Just past midnight. How do you feel?”
I take stock of everything. My head is more than okay; only a touch of pain remains. My ankle on the other hand is fucked. Not wanting to make him more worried than he already is, I simply say, “I’m fine,” and smile softly at him.
“I called Rachel and let her know what happened,” he explains as he fixes the blankets over my lap.
“Thank you,” my hand covers his, stilling his movements, “not just for calling her, but for taking care of me, of her, for understanding before with Austin.”
“Shh,” he picks up on the rising emotion in my words, “just relax, Con. There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now. Get some rest. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
He wakes me up twice more throughout the night, following the doctor’s instructions to a T. When the smell of bacon and eggs wafts into the room sometime around ten, my stomach growls in protest, waking me from my deep sleep.
Moments later, Dylan is walking through his room, a tray full of food in his hands. “Hungry?”
“Starved.” He sets the tray on my lap and sits next to me, pulling his plate on his own lap. “Thanks,” I manage around a mouthful of food.
There’s no room for conversation as I devour my breakfast. Dylan looks on in horror as I clear my plate in less than five minutes. “Dude, calm down.”
“Whatever.” I laugh as I swipe a piece of toast from his plate. “You better hurry before I start on yours, too.”
After he clears our plates, he helps me in to the shower, making certain that the plastic shopping bag is carefully wrapped around my cast. Stubbornly, not once does he take the bait at my longer-than-needed touches or hotter-than-hell stares. “Cut it. You’re hurt. I’m taking care of you. That’s all. No fooling around.” I can tell it takes all of his effort to keep a straight face as he helps me step into a pair of boxers.
I give Rachel a quick call while Dylan gets dressed. She’s ecstatic that she’ll be discharged from the hospital in a day or two. When Dylan comes back with the good pain meds in hand, I end the call with her, telling her I’ll be up there later for a quick visit.
“Before you take these,” Dylan says, sitting next to me and dropping the pills into my hand, “I have something I need to say.”
“Okay.” I’m leery to say the least, his tone quiet and somewhat uncertain.
A deep breath of air fills his lungs and he looks at me. Something dances in his eyes. With a trembling hand, he brushes my hair out of my eyes. “If someone would have told me that you’d walk into my life and turn it completely upside down, I’d have told them they were crazy.” He drags my hand into his and brings it up to his mouth. “For far too long, I was far too happy to keep everyone on the outside. And then you came along, and for the first time in so long, I felt something.”
“Me, too.” Tugging at our hands, I bring them to my mouth, feeling the shaking in his hands relax marginally.
“I was too afraid to let myself love anyone, thinking that I’d lose them somehow. The fear of loss kept me closed off from my own life. And now, with you . . . it’s not like that,” he pauses, looking for the right words. “What I mean is,” he clarifies, focusing his deep blue eyes on mine, “that with you, it’s not about being afraid of losing you.”
“I’m that easy, huh?” I joke. The look of growing frustration on his face tells me I’ve misunderstood him, and that now is not the time for jokes.
“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m petrified of losing you. When you fell yesterday, the only thought I could put together was one of sickening concern. What if he hits his head? What if he’s permanently injured? What if he blacks out and never comes back? But then, when I saw you were okay, the only thought going through my head was that there was no way in hell I could ever go through the rest of my life without you.”
His words cut through me. Stripping me bare, they reflect the exact same way I feel about him.
“You see, with you, the thing that scares me isn’t the thought of losing you. What scares the shit out of me is not having you in my life in the first place,” Dylan says, softly.
He lowers his face to mine, cradling my jaw, and searching my eyes. “I love you, Conner. You brought me back to life simply by just being here. And I don’t ever want to picture a life that you’re not a part of.”
With the softest of caresses, he strokes his thumb against my lower lip before pressing his own in the same spot. As his forehead rests against mine and our breaths mingle in the small space between us, I inhale him. This sweet, angry man who turned everything I thought I knew about my own life completely upside down.
“I’m not as good with words as you are, but know that I love you, too.”
With hands and hearts joined, we fall asleep, a sense of peace that, before this moment, was foreign to both of us, covering us like the warmest of blankest on the coldest of nights.
He lets me nap the rest of the day away and before we go to the hospital to visit Rachel, I take a chance. Based on all the things we said earlier, I feel pretty confident about what I want to ask, but based on Dylan’s history, I’m also scared shitless.
“Rachel wants to move out.” I toss that out there and wait to see if he has anything to say. Slowly, Dylan turns from the kitchen sink, his hands covered in a soapy foam.
“Okay,” the word drags, filled with uncertainty. With my good foot, I kick out the chair next to me.
Dylan rinses his hands and dries them as he sits. “I don’t want her to have to start from square one.” It’s a lame front, one that I think he sees right through.
“And . . .” he prompts me to fill the silence.
Stammering, I try to come up with the right combination of words to say what I want to, but I fail miserably. “I . . . would you . . . uh . . .”
Cupping a hand to his ear, he leans across the table. “I can’t hear you. You need to speak up.” His playfulness is not appreciated right now. Ass.
Rather than continuing to taunt me, he stands from the chair and pulls a small box out of the cabinet above the sink. “I was going to give this to you last night. But then that happened,” he points down to my busted ankle. “I hope this is what you were getting at.” He slides the box over to me as he sits back in the chair.
I lift the top on the box and my pulse jumps, pure elation shooting through my veins. “Now, I was just planning on giving that to you so you have it. Figured it would make things easier, but,” he pulls the key from my hand, twirling it between two fingers, “now, it means a lot more.”
“Yeah,” I tilt my head, taking in the sight of him nervously confessing his feelings. “How’s that?”
“Move in with me.” It’s not a question, but more of a plea.
Dumbfounded, I simply stare at him slack jawed. I had a feeling that’s what he was going to say, but hearing the words had an unexpected effect on me. Mistaking my silence for unwillingness, Dylan rakes a hand through his hair in frustration as he shoots up from his chair. “It’s too soon. I knew it.” His words echo around the still-silent room.
Using my good foot for balance, I awkwardly stand from my chair. Gripping his shoulder, I spin him around to face me. “When I moved here, I had two goals in mind. Open that gym.” I lose my balance and Dylan helps me sit. Some of the tension that was in his face moments ago softens as he sits across from me.
“And the other?” There’s a scared caution in his words.
“To find you.” He flashes me a look of disbelief and his eyes scream, “oh really? Tell me more,” with no little sarcasm.
“Laugh at me all you want.” I pull his hands into mine. “I may not have known it was you I was supposed to find. Coming here and starting all over, quite literally from the ground up, was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. And I’ve willingly stepped into the octagon with guys who would make you shit your pants if you ever ran into them in an alley.”
> We both laugh for the briefest of seconds before the weight of what happens in to good people in dark alleys sinks in.
“I’m ready for this, for us. I don’t need more time to know how I feel about you, to understand how you feel about me.”
“But what if it doesn’t work out?” Suddenly, Dylan is questioning even his own motives.
“What if it does?” I pick the key up from the table, the cool steel imprinting itself in my hand. Everything about it seems right. It feels like home.
I angle my head forward, pulling his close to mine. With a strong hand wrapped around the nape of his neck, I lean into his mouth and claim it. Shocked by my ferocity, his lips separate and our tongues dance together in the most erotic of ways.
He pulls back, breathless and lusty eyed. “Now if that didn’t convince you how I feel, how much I mean for this to work, then you’re just gonna have to wait for my ankle to heal so I can show you in some other, more demonstrative ways.” I waggle an eyebrow at him and he laughs, leaning his forehead back against mine.
“Okay,” he murmurs. “You win. I’ll let you move in with me.”
“Huh? Wait . . . didn’t you . . .” I stumble over my words as he laughs at me, playing me. I shove at his shoulder and he feigns injury.
When the goofiness settles, I drag his hand up to my mouth one last time. “I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, that things will always be easy, but I will promise to try my best to make them that way.”
He covers our hands with his, locking his eyes with mine. “And I promise the same.”
Chapter Twenty Six
August 15, 2015
“Holy hell, Reid! This couch weighs a ton.” I carefully maneuver my way down the back of the rented U-Haul truck.
Reid has the easy end, but he still jokes, “Sorry, man. It’s a sleeper, too.”
“I don’t care what it is. Please just tell me this is the last of it.” We drop the sofa on the front lawn of his and Maddy’s new home, catching our breath before lifting it again to try to bring it inside. I eye the door and then the couch.
“You sure this beast is going to fit?”
“Eh, if not, we can just bring it out back. Set up an outdoor home theater.” He’s laughing, but as I look back at the door once more, I think he might have that outdoor space sooner than he thinks.
On one last ditch effort, we somehow manage to get the couch into the house. Thankfully, it is in fact the last item. As soon as we drop it on the hardwood living room floor, both Reid and I crash down onto it, exhausted from a twelve-hour day of humping furniture out of their apartment and into their new home.
Since Maddy is about four months pregnant, she isn’t allowed to do more than unpack towels and blankets. Melanie, her newly engaged best friend, and Rachel are helping as well, but the guys have done all the heavy lifting.
Just as Maddy hands both Reid and me a few cold beers, Dylan and Bryan come jogging down the stairs, announcing that Braden’s Batman room is all set up. I still haven’t figured out how I got stuck with the furniture.
“All done?” Dylan asks, standing behind me, rubbing the knots out of my tired shoulders.
I tip back the longneck beer bottle, chugging down the cold brew. “Yep,” after handing him the empty bottle and swiping my forearms across my lips, I add, “and I’ll have another.”
I overhear tiny snippets of Dylan talking with the girls about who-knows-what. Honestly, I’m too tired to care. Reid’s words snap my attention back to the living room. He claps a hand on my shoulder; a similar look of exhaustion is mirrored on his face. “You guys are really good for each other.” Admiration for his surrogate brother shines in his words.
“Thanks, I think so, too.”
We hang around for a little while longer, devouring the pizza Reid and Maddy offered as payment for our help. The girls chat animatedly about what color to paint which room and what kind of curtains to get.
As for us guys, it’s simple. The cable guy came earlier. We watch sports.
Bryan, Melanie’s fiancé, stands and collects all of our paper plates. He looks down at his watch. “Let me take care of the router and modem in the office before we hit the road. Don’t want you guys to be without a phone or internet for the night.”
Melanie’s face melts in appreciation. As he walks away from us, she decides she’ll go help him, though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know a thing about computers or technology.
“I think I’m gonna hit the road,” Rachel announces as she stands and gathers her bag and keys.
“Someone’s got a hot date!” Maddy taunts her and she immediately looks to me, almost afraid of what I’d say.
“I do not!” she huffs, pulling a shut-your-trap face at Maddy.
“He’ll find out eventually,” Maddy defends before sticking her tongue out at my sister. They’ve become close in the last couple of months, and I think being friends with Maddy has helped Rachel find her own place here in Elmira.
“Come on. I’ll walk you out.” I lay a protective hand on her arm and escort Rachel to her car.
When we’re outside, I stand with my arms crossed, trying my best to keep a straight face. She sees straight through it, poking me in the chest, telling me, “You’re an ass!”
“What?” I mock. “I had to at least make you feel a little guilty.”
Now she crosses her arms over her chest and spins around, giving me her back. “Rach,” I turn her back to face me, “I’m happy for you.” Popping a quick kiss to her forehead, I add, “Have a good time tonight, and be sure to call me tomorrow.” She smiles at my approval and I return a smile at her happiness.
Waving at her as she pulls down the quiet suburban street, my chest fills with a light feeling of contentedness. Lightning bugs flicker in the early summer evening, spotting the darkening sky with their neon green dots of light. Out for an evening stroll, a family walks past me, waving and greeting me cheerily. Despite looking like something out of a Normal Rockwell painting, this kind of life—quiet and peaceful, normal and routine—is exactly what I’d always wanted, what I still want.
When I walk back inside, it’s just Reid and Dylan on the couch. Completely enraptured in the baseball game on the TV, they don’t even hear me. When the game ends, Dylan looks at me, silently asking me if I’m ready to go home. I nod and we stand to leave.
“Thanks again, guys,” Maddy calls, walking down the stairs. She hugs each of us. “We wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much done as we did if it wasn’t for you two.” She curls herself into Reid’s side, and he kisses her head.
“See you guys at the cookout tomorrow, right?” Reid stammers, something odd in his voice, and says goodbye.
“What was that all about?” I ask Dylan as we walk out to his car.
He shrugs, before sliding into his seat. “Not sure,” he says as he starts the car. “Must be more tired than we thought,” he guesses and we pull away from the house.
“Grab that case of beer out of the fridge,” Dylan’s voice calls out from the bedroom as he finishes getting ready. We’re going to Lucy and Evan’s for a cookout. As the summer dwindles down, there aren’t many more opportunities for us to get together as a group.
“Ready?” Dylan sneaks up behind me, planting a chaste kiss to my cheek as he grabs his keys from the counter. Freshly showered and smelling of soap and everything heavenly, Dylan looks incredible in a fitted baby blue polo, khaki shorts, and flip-flops. He’s been working out more, using the excuse that he gets to spend more time with me at the gym, and it’s definitely showing.
When we pull up to Lucy and Evan’s, I notice a change in Dylan. It’s subtle, but noticeable. His leg bounces; his spine straightens. The smile on his face that’s usually causal and lopsided, is now forced and odd. “You okay?” I ask, dropping a hand to his nervous leg.
“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go.” Even his words sound off, rushed and slightly higher pitched. I shrug it off—something could be going on at work that he’s not telling me
about just yet. As far as he’s come and open as he is about everything, he still has stuff to work out—so do I.
As I lace my fingers through his, I let my eyes scan over him. He’s not perfect, and neither am I. We’re far from it, in fact. But we’re trying, so damn hard some days that it’s exhausting. But when he squeezes my hand and searches my face, asking, “What?” with a soft smile, and crinkle at the corner of his eyes, I know it’s all worth it.
“Nothing,” I dismiss his question and simply squeeze his hand back.
The soft click of the gate unlatching precedes the loud “Surprise” that welcomes us into the back yard. Like a fool, I look behind me, thinking that there must be someone else following us in. “Happy Birthday!” Dylan says as some of the loud cheers subside.
I look over at him, confusion clearly evident on my face. “What? My birthday was two weeks ago.”
“You were still in a cast,” is the explanation Dylan offers as Rachel rushes over to us, leaping into my arms.
“Happy 30th, old man!” Her voice is full of excitement, as she squeezes the life out of me.
Scanning the yard, I see all of the people who are important to me and Dylan huddled around us. Everything is draped in “Over the Hill” decorations. “You did this?” I look between Dylan and Rachel. They don’t need to say a thing; the proud and accomplished look on their faces says it all.
After saying hello to everybody—and I mean everybody, co-workers from the gym, old Mrs. Keating, Maddy and Reid, Melanie and Bryan, Lucy and Evan, Adrian and Troy, along with some of my old fighting buddies, even John and Elise, Dylan’s old college friends—Dylan pulls me to the side and introduces me to two people I’m more than surprised to be meeting.
“I’d like you to meet my parents, Ben and Jillian.” Though nervousness begins to consume me, Dylan’s mom instantly makes it go away, engulfing me in a tight embrace.
“It is so nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.” Jillian holds me at arm’s length. Her eyes bright—the same color as her son’s—are shining with tears of happiness.
The Love Series Complete Box Set Page 138
