Zach sat obediently, because he kind of had to. And then he closed his eyes, just for a second.
“I need to go home,” he said again, even though lying back down really did sound good. But getting home was a concrete goal, and it gave him something to focus on. He wasn’t quite ready to think too hard about his father, or where his truck might be, or how much he must have had to drink to feel this badly. Instead, he pulled Micah closer, burying his face in the crook of Micah’s neck for a second and just breathing him in.
It helped.
“Okay, I’ll get you home, Zach,” Micah said, practically petting him as he wrapped himself around Zach and held onto him. “Trust me, okay? I’ve got you.”
Zach nodded. After a minute, he even managed to let go. Tried to wrap his brain around the logistics of getting himself home and ignore all the variations of pain in his body and get himself to move.
Micah had said something about clothes, and then Zach would need to make his body move enough to dress, and then… if his truck wasn’t around… he’d just… just…
“Shhh,” Micah said, even though Zach wasn’t sure he’d said anything.
He for damn sure hadn’t managed to move yet.
“Just… sit for a minute, okay?” Micah said, resting his hand against Zach’s cheek. “Let me take care of things. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’m with you. I’m right here.”
Zach turned his face, kissing Micah’s palm. He couldn’t ever remember feeling this bad in his life… except that last part. That last part was the opposite of bad.
Micah was with him, so maybe it really would be okay.
The second time Zach woke up, he was in his own bed with Micah curled up against his side and only the vaguest memory of how Micah had managed to get him there. In fact, his memory seemed to be pretty fucked, in general. He did remember feeling a whole lot worse the last time he’d woken up, though. This time, at least the light coming through his curtains didn’t feel like it was trying to kill him, and even though his head still hurt, the pain was confined to his left temple rather than threatening to drown him from every direction. The headache pain, at least. His body was still sore as fuck in too many places to count, but it was bearable.
He stroked a hand down Micah’s back, wishing his boyfriend was naked. Not for sex—Zach definitely didn’t feel up for that—but just to feel closer.
“You’re awake?” Micah asked, propping himself up on his elbows the minute Zach’s hand moved.
“You’re awake?” Zach threw back at him, his lip quirking up despite how craptastic he still felt. “Have you just been laying here with me while I slept?”
“I slept earlier, for a bit,” Micah said, his face coloring up. “But, um, yes? I was trying not to bump you, but you kept pulling me close. Did I hurt you? I should have gotten up, but… I just didn’t want you to be alone.”
Zach didn’t want that, either. He pressed a kiss against Micah’s forehead.
“Thank you, baby.”
Micah started to smile, but then frowned, looking Zach over while he chewed the hell out of his lip. “Jeez, you’re so banged up, Zach,” he said, sounding like the fact hurt him. “It was dark earlier, so I couldn’t see as well. Let me get you some more aspirin.”
“More?” Zach repeated, sifting through his blurry memories as Micah scrambled out of bed and headed into the bathroom.
Micah had brought him home from the hospital. And yes, he did remember some aspirin at some point, along with a whole lot of foul language as he’d made his way up the stairs, leaning too heavily on Micah. Jesus. Micah was tiny. Zach shouldn’t have put him through that. In fact, if Micah was here, Zach really had put him out, hadn’t he?
“Where’s Pippin?” he asked as Micah came back into the bedroom with a glass of water and two pills. “What time is it? Did you eat anything today, baby? Do you have work to do today? Is it… Saturday?”
Zach squeezed his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to sort through things in his head.
“Stop worrying about me, Zach,” Micah said, grinning as he handed over the water and aspirin and helped Zach sit up. “It’s my turn to take care of you, okay?”
Zach took the pills, swallowing them gratefully. He really did feel like shit. But still, he didn’t want to put Micah out.
Micah’s grin softened into something sweeter as he watched Zach, and then, as if he could sense that Zach wouldn’t stop worrying just because Micah had told him to, he added, “I’m not sure what time it is, I’ll get something to eat in a bit, and I asked Alicia to go over to my place and get Pipp this morning. Her mom said Pippin could stay with them until whenever I get back, and it’s actually Sunday morning. You were at the hospital most of Saturday and, um, you don’t remember? I brought you home and you slept through the night. I mean, you woke up a few times but… anyway, it’s the weekend. I don’t have anything to do but be with you.”
“Good,” Zach murmured, letting his eyes close for a moment. Fucking Christ, he was worn out. And he’d really lost a whole day? “I might need a little more sleep.”
“Um, do you want me to leave?” Micah asked. “You asked me to stay, earlier, but…”
Zach forced his eyes open again, shaking his head. He definitely didn’t want Micah to leave. Having him there was the only thing that made waking up worthwhile at the moment, and banged up or not, he needed him close.
Micah was still looking at him uncertainly, though, as if the head shake hadn’t been convincing.
“No,” Zach said, leaning back against the headboard and stifling a groan when moving like that made everything hurt again. “Please stay.”
He rubbed his forehead, willing the aspirin to hurry up and kick in.
“Of course I’ll stay, as long as you want me,” Micah said, sitting down on the bed next to him and taking over the forehead rubbing. “That woman, Janis, said—”
“Janis?” Zach interrupted, frowning at the mention. Had he ever talked about her to Micah? He’d certainly had no reason to. A vague memory from the hospital tried to surface, but it was too blurry. “What does Janis have to do with anything? You talked to her?”
“She was the one who brought you in to the Emergency Room,” Micah said, his pretty mouth stretching into a thin white line.
Jesus. What? Zach couldn’t remember it, and trying made his head hurt even more. He frowned, though, not liking how tight Micah’s voice had gotten at the mention of her. And then he did remember. Not much, but just a hazy moment with Janis and Micah in the hospital room, each clutching one of his hands and Janis saying…
“Micah, Janis isn’t—”
“Your girlfriend, like she said?” Micah interrupted, his mouth relaxing as he gave a cute little snort. “Obviously not. I can’t believe she told my mother that. What is wrong with her? Like, she couldn’t just help you to help you, she had to try to… to… claim you, too?”
He hopped off the bed, tripping over something Zach couldn’t see but righting himself quickly, and started pacing back and forth as he continued his rant.
“Seriously, Zach, she was horrible. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really, really glad she was with you when you…”
Micah choked up for a second, his words trailing off into nothing, and Zach frowned even harder, trying to remember what the hell he’d done to end up in the hospital… and why Janis had been involved.
“Micah—”
“Did you actually date her?” Micah asked, speaking over him. “I didn’t even know you liked girls, but I mean, her? She was so… so… she didn’t even care about you, Zach. She only cried when she thought you were awake to see it, and she… you… Zach—”
Micah suddenly froze midsentence, the outrage on his face draining away.
“Oh my God,” he said, softly, plopping back down on the bed and picking up Zach’s hands.
His gorgeous, pale eyes welled up with tears, but he dashed them away impatiently, immediately grabbing Zach’s hands a
gain and squeezing them tightly. The look he was giving Zach made something hurt inside Zach’s chest, calling up all the memories that had been crowding against the blurry barrier his hangover had provided ever since he’d woken up… but Micah’s touch also made it feel like maybe it would be okay to let those memories come now, as long as he had Micah to hold onto when they did.
“I’m so sorry,” Micah said, his eyes spilling over again. “Janis told us that your father died, Zach.”
Yes, that was the memory that had been hovering, waiting to pounce on him again. Zach sucked in a ragged breath. Then another.
“It happened a while ago,” he said after a minute, even though his throat was so tight he had to force the words out one by one. His father had been dead for a month, and he hadn’t known. Hadn’t even suspected. Shouldn’t he have felt… something? “I didn’t even know him, Micah.”
Micah scooted closer, not letting go.
“I’m just… I’m really sorry I wasn’t there, Zach.” He paused, nibbling his lip for a second, then added, “I know we’ve only, um, been together for a little while, and Janis said you two dated for a couple of years, but I just… I wish I hadn’t let you cancel on me Friday night. I mean, I’m glad you had someone, at least. That you weren’t alone. But she let you drink way too much, and surfing? At night? You told me that was dangerous anyway, right? And she—”
“Micah,” Zach tugged him into his arms, hating that Micah would think even for a moment that Zach would want anyone but him. “I have no idea why I was with her at the beach. There’s no way I’d rather be with her than you, under any circumstances. None, Micah. Jesus, I just… I can’t… I’m sorry, baby. I honestly don’t even remember…”
He really didn’t, and he let the words fade away in a long breath as he tried. He wouldn’t have reached out to Janis, though. It had been a long time since he’d had enough to drink that he lost a whole night like that, but there was no amount of alcohol on the planet that would have accounted for him seeking comfort with her. She was a part of his past that he had no reason to revisit.
Zach buried his face against Micah’s neck, breathing in his warmth and goodness as he tried hard to bring his memories into focus.
He’d talked to someone from his father’s office, then to his mother. He remembered holding Micah’s green rock and wondering why on earth his father’s death hurt so badly. He remembered being at the beach. The waves. Drinking… Jesus. Too much. But after that, nothing.
No, not nothing.
He remembered feeling… too much. An overwhelming tide of emotions. Alone.
Zach’s arms tightened around Micah of their own accord, kind of hoping it wasn’t too tight, but just so damn grateful he was there that he couldn’t make himself stop. Zach had no explanation for Janis, but even if he couldn’t remember everything that had happened on the beach, he knew for damn sure that Janis wasn’t the one who he’d wanted to turn to.
“I didn’t want to be with Janis on Friday night, Micah,” Zach said again, needing Micah to know for sure. “I don’t even remember how that happened, but trust me, she’s the last person I want in my life right now.”
“I do trust you,” Micah said, squirming enough that Zach had to loosen his hold and then taking Zach’s face between his hands. “I love you, Zach. Um, is that okay to say, since it hasn’t been that long? I mean, it’s true, but I don’t know if I should actually say it yet? But when you got hurt, I just—ooph.”
And then Zach did squeeze him too tight, but Micah didn’t complain.
Micah loved him.
Zach closed his eyes, sucking in a shuddering breath. It was what he’d been looking for, but even though he’d wanted it, a part of him that had been scarred long ago hadn’t been able to trust it when he’d finally found it. He hadn’t known how to lean on someone else, when he was used to being the one who supported others. Hadn’t reached out, when he should have.
Thank God Micah hadn’t let him get away with that.
“I’m sorry,” Zach said, his voice muffled because he was still holding Micah too tight… and because his eyes had started to spill over and he couldn’t seem to let go. And then he remembered to add the important part: “I love you, too.”
Zach’s eyes were wet, and even though he could feel Micah smiling—even though knowing Micah loved him was a good thing—for some reason, Zach couldn’t seem to stop leaking tears that he shouldn’t be shedding.
“Shit,” he said, trying to dry his face. “I’ve got no reason to cry for John Pearce. I don’t even know why I’m wasting any tears on him.”
“They’re not for him,” Micah said, his hands stroking up and down Zach’s back, sure and confident. “He doesn’t deserve them, but you still deserve to cry for your loss, Zach.”
“His death was no loss.”
“No,” Micah agreed. “But now you’ve lost the chance for what should have been. It’s okay to grieve for it.”
Zach gave a watery sigh, something inside his chest easing up a little. Micah was right; somehow, he’d seen what Zach had been blind to. That was it. When his father had been alive, there had always been a chance that they’d meet—that, eventually, they’d have something—and now that was gone.
After a while, once the aspirin kicked in, Zach lay back down, exhausted. And even though, objectively, he still felt like shit, with Micah tucked up next to him, he felt better than he had in a long time. His tears had washed away the last of his hopes for his father, and now, finally having let them go felt a lot less like a loss, and more like a little space had opened up inside him.
Making room for something better.
The third time Zach woke up, Micah wasn’t there, but he could hear muffled sounds coming from the other room, so Zach figured he hadn’t left yet. Thank God. Zach would have been more than happy if he never did.
He rolled out of bed, groaning because the aspirin had definitely worn off. Did hangovers last two days? Although he vaguely remembered hearing that he’d hit his head, too, so maybe it was partly that.
Instead of leaving the bedroom to find Micah like he wanted to, Zach made his way to the bathroom, dry swallowing a couple more pills and grimacing as he caught sight of the bruising on his face and the salt-encrusted disaster of his hair.
Jesus.
His headache was finally down to a dull annoyance, but without its distraction, the rest of him just felt all the worse.
He turned on the water in the shower, waiting out the seemingly interminable delay as the water went from tepid to what he needed and then stepping under the hot spray gratefully. He turned his face up toward the spray, trying again to sort through his fragments of drunken memory and the aftereffects of his emotional overload. Nope. It was too much. After a minute, he gave up and just let the water ease some of his aches and pains away.
And then he grinned, his heart lightening as he remembered what Micah had said earlier.
Micah had told him that he loved him.
Zach shut the water off and did a half-assed job of drying himself, quickly throwing on a pair of shorts that he was eminently grateful he’d bothered with when he made it to the kitchen a few minutes later and discovered that Micah wasn’t alone.
“Ah Dios, look at you, Zachary,” Ana said, clucking her tongue as she left Micah at the stove and hobbled over to wrap Zach tightly in her wiry arms. “It is a miracle you are in one piece. He truly looks after you, no? Your novio tells me it has been a very bad weekend for you. I am so sorry, mijo.”
“Thank you,” he said, hugging her back as Micah smiled over at him, looking ridiculously adorable in an apron Zach had forgotten he owned. He also had a severe case of bedhead and a smear of some kind of sauce over his eyebrow.
He looked beautiful.
“Ana came up to check on you, and now she’s teaching me to make tamales,” Micah said, confirming what Zach’s nose had told him. “She says you like them?”
“I love them.”
Which reminded him
of why he’d rushed out of the shower in the first place. He let go of Ana and crossed the room, tipping Micah’s face up to him.
Micah grinned. “Don’t let me touch you,” he said, holding his hands out to the sides. “I’ve been doing the chiles, and they kind of burn. But as long as you stay away from my hands, you can still kiss me if you want.”
“I always want,” Zach said, doing it. Micah did taste a bit like chiles, but that wasn’t what warmed him. “I can’t remember if I said it earlier like I should have, Micah, but… I love you, too.”
“You did say it,” Micah said, giving Zach one of those full-body smiles that lit him up from the inside out. “But I’m totally okay with you saying it all the time.”
“I can do that,” Zach promised, meaning it.
Behind him, Ana whispered, “Qué romántico. You have finally found your spark, mijo.”
Zach laughed, turning just in time to catch her dabbing at her eyes. In Ana’s world, love really did conquer all, and Micah had clearly won her over.
“An old woman can admit to being wrong, no? This one, he is good for you, mijo.” Ana pinned Zach with a look, putting a subtle emphasis on the “he” as she lowered herself onto one of the stools at his counter. “It makes an old woman happy to see.”
Zach’s lip quirked up, and he seriously had to wonder if she’d read his mind.
“You’re right, Ana,” Micah said, bringing her a glass of water and offering it with a smile that Zach was pretty sure no one on earth could have helped falling in love with. No wonder Ana had gotten over her bigotry. “I’m totally good for Zach.”
Ana laughed and patted Micah’s hand and started lecturing him on how to properly soften the corn husks for the tamales, and Zach offered up a silent prayer of gratitude, because Micah really was good for him. His goodness and love filled the room, as bright and vibrant as he was, just like it filled Zach’s heart.
Filled his life.
And, if he was lucky, maybe someday it would fill his forever, too.
Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2) Page 19
