“And because I do, you must realize how hard it is to see him fail or flounder.”
“And yet, it’s because you love him that you must!”
“I must?”
“You must treat him as a sighted man when you can. Yell at him when he pisses you off, but praise him when he has a small victory. Your role in his life will be critical, and I’m not sure you can handle it, Sloan. You seem very emotional.”
“What the fuck, doc!” I was outraged by his accusation. “You’ve just made this the worst day of my life, second only to the day my mother died. Did you expect me to sit here and be stoic? I don’t think so.”
“I think there’s a huge part of Cole that needs your normalcy; in fact, he craves it, so the more you treat him like an invalid, the more he’ll retreat. Do you understand?”
“Loud and fucking clear, doc.”
“I think I’ve said more than enough, Sloan. This meeting is over.”
I wanted to slap myself upside my head. The last thing I needed was to antagonize this man who’d broken all kinds of rules to help me figure this out.
“Dr. Butterman, please forgive me,” I begged, holding on to his arm. “I never censor what comes out of my mouth. I do love my roommate, even though it’s hopeless and one-sided. He’s never admitted that he cares about me, let alone that he’s bisexual. The possibility of Cole and I becoming life partners is slim to none, but I plan to treat him like anyone else for as long as he wants me around. He’ll be married soon and his wife can take over.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
“What?”
Dr. Butterman shook his head and said, “You are going to get me into all kinds of trouble.”
“Just answer one question, Dr. Butterman. Is there hope for me and him?”
“Yes.”
I threw my arms around his neck and held on as if he was a lifesaver. When I stepped back, I looked into his eyes and asked, “Are you completely blind?”
“Not one hundred percent. I’m legally blind, but I can see some.”
“Is that they way it is for Cole right now?”
“Cole who?”
“Thank you,” I whispered, “for everything.”
“Drop by whenever you’d like a tour, Sloan.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you!” I knew I was babbling, but I couldn’t help it. Nervous energy was running riot through my body. I needed some weed, some downtime, and a whole lot of smarts to figure this out.
28
“GUIDE DOGS of America. How may I help you?”
Cole introduced himself and started the initial process of acquiring a guide dog. He’d opted for GDA because of the many endorsements he’d read on their Web site, as well as recommendations from the people at Lighthouse. One important factor was that they accepted applicants who were not completely blind. They had certain criteria for range of vision, and Cole seemed to fit within their parameters. Right now he was still considered legally blind. Someday he’d be completely blind, but that day had yet to come.
He was told the process could take anywhere from three to six months, depending on how fast the paperwork requirements were fulfilled. The most important thing he learned was that he had to be an independent traveler, well able to take public modes of transportation on his own. This included subways and buses, in addition to escalators and elevators.
Part of the application process would involve a home interview, as well as personal references and medical reports to determine the extent of his eye problems. After all the paperwork was complete and he was approved, Cole would be required to fly to Los Angeles and take a bus to the town of Slymar, which was located in the San Fernando Valley. That was where the training would take place.
He would be assigned a personal trainer, along with his own guide dog, but he would have to remain there for twenty-eight days. When he asked how they determined the type of dog he would receive, he was told they took several factors into consideration, such as lifestyle, personality, and environment. Also important was his size and strength, the pace of his walk, and his energy level.
The most amazing thing of all was that these dogs were free. They were donated to the right candidates, rather than sold. It was a revelation to Cole that a society like this even existed. Because GDA was a charity-based organization, they were fastidious in their selection. Their primary concern was making sure the dog and the owner were a good match and would be able to work well together. It was very rare that a dog and owner were not a good fit, but it did happen, so the twenty-eight day training out in California was a critical time for both dog and master. Cole asked about dog breeds and was informed that seventy percent of their guide dogs were Labrador Retrievers. The remaining thirty percent were divided between Golden Retrievers and German Shepherds.
It all sounded very daunting, but the lady on the phone was wonderfully supportive, and by the time Cole hung up, he was convinced he was doing the right thing.
The first order of business was to get tested—to find out whether his asthma would be aggravated by a dog. The second important thing was to ditch the taxis and get used to the subway. He knew he would be terrified the first few times, certain he’d have another mishap, but he was determined to become independent. In a sense, the thought of the guide dog was comforting and inspirational. He knew they’d have to rely on each other, and if the dog was able to go through months of training before meeting him, he felt it was only fair he train as well.
It was exciting to have something to look forward to instead of brooding over what he’d lost. His meltdown last night had triggered a new resolve in him. He almost felt like his old self today, interested in a future suddenly rather than coasting and waiting for events to unfurl. His interest in Sloan was a guiding force, and he wasn’t going to hide from it anymore. He planned to explore it as honestly as possible, and if he lost Juliana in the process, then he would try to accept the fact that they weren’t meant to be together.
It was easier said than done, especially when his family was pushing for the wedding and already talking up the plans for the big day. Juliana and his mother were meeting for lunch next week to begin choosing different venues for the parties they would be hosting leading up to the wedding. He had yet to buy an engagement ring, but he had no doubt in his mind that his parents had already decided where and what he would get.
He was in the kitchen when he heard the front door open and Sloan strolled in.
“Hey,” he said, acknowledging Sloan’s presence with a nod. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” Sloan replied. “What are you offering?” He seemed rather subdued, and Cole moved closer to try and get a better look, but Sloan turned away.
“I made a chicken and broccoli casserole.”
“My mother used to make that.” Sloan sounded surprised. “Yeah, I’ll have some.”
Sloan washed his hands while Cole got the food. He spooned a hefty portion onto a plate and placed it on the table, along with a glass of milk. Sloan slid into the seat and commented, “I’m not a milk drinker, Cole.”
“Don’t you like the taste?”
“Not really.”
“It’s good for you,” Cole said, trying to convince him.
“So are Brussels sprouts, but I hate them. I don’t usually do what’s good for me.”
“I noticed,” Cole replied disapprovingly. “Would you rather have a soda?”
“I’ll drink the milk, since you’ve already poured it, but next time, ask me first, okay?”
“Okay,” Cole answered, secretly pleased. He wanted to take care of Sloan, and feeding him properly would be a good start. His attitude seemed much better this evening.
“Wow, this is really good, Cole. It’s almost the same recipe as my mother’s.”
“Well, I learned it from my mom who may have gotten the recipe from yours. Who knows?”
Sloan ate quickly, washing it down with the dreaded milk. “That was good. Thanks.”
“You�
�re welcome. Are you going out tonight?” Cole asked, trying to make it sound as casual as possible.
“I have no plans, why?”
“I thought we could watch a movie, maybe have some popcorn and hang out.”
Cole couldn’t see the shocked look on Sloan’s face, but he heard the intonation of his voice. “You want to hang out with me?”
“Yeah, is that okay?” He pushed away the lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes. “I need a haircut,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “I think I’ll get it cut really short.”
“Don’t do that,” Sloan said gently, running his fingers through Cole’s silky hair. “I love it just the way it is.”
“Do you?” Cole was ridiculously pleased.
“I do.”
“What else do you like about me?” Cole asked, unable to squelch that question.
“I love your mouth and can easily lose myself in your eyes,” Sloan replied, his voice shifting down.
“Sloan?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry about the crap I’ve been giving you.”
“What crap?” Sloan asked, now holding Cole’s hand.
“My lame attempts to have it all. I know it’s not possible. I need to take a stand, one way or the other.”
“When did you have this epiphany?” Sloan asked, moving a little closer.
“Last night, after you called me a whore.”
“Cole,” Sloan whispered his name and stood quickly, wrapping his arms around him. He began to kiss his neck, sucking up marks along the way, murmuring endearments that Cole couldn’t make out but sounded so good. He closed his eyes and let himself go with it. This was how he imagined it would be without the fighting. This was the Sloan he craved when he lay in bed at night by himself.
“I want you,” Sloan said, in a voice that was suddenly shaky.
“Take me.”
“Yeah?” Sloan acted surprised. “Do you know what I mean?”
“You want to fuck me?”
“God, yes,” Sloan admitted, pressing against Cole’s thigh. Cole could feel Sloan’s excitement, which only served to heighten his, and the blood rushed to his groin. He was light-headed with desire, practically fainting with the thought of what was coming next. “Take me,” Cole begged again, wanting this more than anything else.
They left the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and entered Cole’s bedroom. Sloan moved Cole toward the bed and began to remove his clothes, sliding his shirt off and dropping it on the floor. His pants were next and Sloan slipped his hands under the waistband and tugged, pulling them off easily.
Cole felt the blood rushing through his veins, every beat of his heart confirming his need for Sloan. He cried out when Sloan began to lick the dark nipples that puckered in response. He heard needy, purring noises coming from his throat, a feat that only Sloan had been able to accomplish. His touch was a balm that his torn-up psyche sucked up eagerly, like a spray of water in the dead of summer, unexpected but fully appreciated. He’d never felt so cherished and desired.
Cole felt Sloan kissing a trail of wet marks that symbolized his possession. Sloan had removed his own clothes a while back, and Cole felt Sloan’s erection pushing against his hot skin, further proof of his desire.
He stopped breathing in shocked surprise when he realized where Sloan was headed. He felt Sloan parting his legs, his mouth and tongue all over him. Cole’s breathing resumed with a gasp when Sloan paid homage to a part of him that had never been touched before. The thought of what Sloan was doing to him was repugnant and forbidden, but it was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced in his life. His body was reacting to the pleasure despite his fear and trepidation. He moaned with each twirl of Sloan’s tongue as it teased and licked at the skin around his asshole. He spread his legs even wider, lifting his hips to give Sloan further access. He was acting like the whore Sloan had accused him of being, but loving every minute of it.
Sloan pulled away for a second, rooting around in the drawer, “Cole, do you have lube?”
“It’s way in the back,” Cole replied, hardly able to contain his excitement. His cock pressed heavily against his stomach and he was desperate to get off, but he also wanted Sloan to possess him, so he waited patiently as his roommate fumbled with the condom and the lube.
Finally, Sloan was ready and he whispered, “You sure?”
“Yes.”
Cole watched eagerly as Sloan slicked himself. He cried out when Sloan inserted two slippery fingers into him, stretching him gently.
“Patience, Cole. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Please, you won’t hurt me.”
“Trust me.”
“I want this.”
Cole felt Sloan position himself, and he held his breath in anticipation of the push that turned out to be much more intense than he’d bargained for. The combination of Sloan’s size and his virgin canal was overwhelming, but he took a deep breath and willed himself to relax, all the while receiving the hot kisses Sloan rained over his face.
“God, you’re tight,” Sloan huffed.
“You’re fucking huge,” Cole gasped.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, just go slow.”
“Okay.”
When Cole’s body finally made the adjustment, Sloan resumed his movements, thrusting in and out gently. His rhythm began to pick up in direct proportion to Cole’s accelerated breaths and soon Cole felt him pumping in and out with abandon. Sloan’s hair fell forward in an unruly mop, tickling Cole’s face while his breath escaped in tiny puffs. Cole wrapped his legs around Sloan’s slim hips and almost lost it when he felt Sloan’s cock nudge his prostate. It was another first and yanked the scream right out of his throat.
“Jesus, Sloan, you’re killing me.”
“Good… Cole, you feel so good.”
“I need to come,” Cole moaned, feeling his balls drawing up, one second from an orgasm.
“We’ll come together.”
And they did, pushed over the edge of control in a glorious shuddering of nerve endings. It was, by all counts, Cole’s finest orgasm ever.
I LAY in bed, unable to stop the tears from leaking out of my eyes. Fortunately, Cole had gone to the bathroom, so he would never see how emotional I was. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I knew he wasn’t ready to hear it. The steps he took tonight were monstrous enough; he didn’t need to be burdened by my romantic notions.
But there was no denying my feelings anymore. I couldn’t rationalize this or make it go away. I was in love with him and regardless of who he chose or which lifestyle he ultimately picked, I knew he would be a part of me forever. I didn’t know how to reconcile my newfound knowledge of his eye impairment. I hoped he would tell me willingly and not leave it the big secret he was trying to keep away from me, but it was his decision to make. All I could do was wait it out and help him, whenever I had a chance, without it being too obvious.
It was ironic that it never occurred to me to share my own secret. I didn’t think he’d be interested or care enough to deal with my cutting issues. It would be an additional burden, which I would never impose on him. It was best to keep it to myself and leave him as stress-free as possible.
Dr. Butterman had admonished me to act normal. My normal wasn’t really the norm, so instead, I decided to act abnormal. I was going to go out of my way to be the nicest, most solicitous roommate a guy could ever have. The rest was up to fate.
And on the heels of that decision, fate knocked on our door via two phone calls, one after the other. Juliana was on her way, and so was Max. Cole and I scrambled to get ready.
29
MAX WAS acting like a kid with a new toy. He had pictures of me hung all over the studio, and even though it was late, he’d insisted on driving over there so I could see them. He still hadn’t heard from Klas regarding an offer, but he was very confident they would want me to sign on as the next face for their men’s line. I was very skeptical, puzzled by the hype. I’d never look in
a mirror and see the beauty Max was raving about, but I was grateful for the attention and the eventual money, if it panned out.
Right now my head was so far removed from photos and contracts I could barely keep up with Max’s chatter. My mind was on Cole and the stricken look on his face when he learned Juliana was dropping by the apartment.
“I can’t see her right now,” he’d protested, still glowing after our session.
“You have to, Cole. It would look weird if you didn’t.”
“I want to stay in bed with you for the rest of the night.”
“I know you do and so would I, but we’re sort of stuck.”
“Are you planning on having sex with Max?”
“How can you ask that after what we just shared?”
Cole shrugged his shoulders and looked away. “I’m feeling very possessive suddenly.”
“I’m flattered, but you have issues to deal with as well. You may end up in bed with her, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“Sloan.” He stopped me, just as I was leaving to change.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for tonight, I’ll never forget this.”
“I hope you won’t have to, Cole. I plan on having many memorable nights with you,” I said in parting.
But that was earlier, and now I sat here with Max, stewing in my old insecurities. I was sure that Cole would come to his senses and tell me it was another one-shot. He was probably in bed right now, fucking Juliana.
“Hey.” Max interrupted my train of thought. “What’s going on in that gorgeous head?”
“Not much.” I’m sure I sounded awful because Max took notice.
“Why so grim?” he asked. “You should be ecstatic over these photos and the upcoming contract.”
“It’s not real, Max. I can’t get excited about something until it happens.”
“When are you going to learn to trust me? Have I steered you wrong at any time?”
“No, I can’t say that you have. You’ve been pretty honest with me.”
Cutting Cords Page 18
