“Hi, Jackson.” Logan chuckled and kissed my nose. “Hi, Isaac.”
“Happy Halloween.” I kissed the slight scruff on his chin. “So what sweet treat did you get?”
He held up the candy, and we burst out laughing at the familiar yellow scrawled with the red saying Sugar Daddy. “Looks like I picked up the right treat.”
“You’re terrible.” I kissed his jaw again, just to feel the rough stubble against my lips. “You’re also here a lot earlier than I was expecting.”
Logan grumbled and released me so he could set his helmet on the back of the couch against the wall. “It was becoming a drama-fest.”
“Like Christmas?”
“Yes. I’m not sure what the fu—um.” He gritted his teeth and waved at Rosa. “I don’t know what they’re even fighting about. Matti and Alessa are angry with Troy, who is blaming Bryan. Of course, none of them want to talk about it. Erika keeps trying to play mediator, which I think they need, but Troy, and I guess Bryan, keep saying it’s unfair because she’s dating Alessa and will automatically side with her. Which is kind of a valid point. Jacob is trying to stay uninvolved, and anytime I try to get a clear picture of what’s going on, it breaks down into a screaming match.”
“And thus you’re here.”
“Yeah. I told them they needed to talk it out. I suggested Erika lock them in a room with a bottle of rum until they got through it.”
“I thought they’d worked it out before New Year’s.” They had all seemed fine at the party.
Logan glared at the air. “So did I.”
“Aw, my poor baby. I’m sorry.” I stepped in front of him and snagged the zipper of his jacket, then dragged it down slowly. “But now you’re here and we can have fun.”
“There are children present,” Jackson reminded me.
I cranked my neck around to glare at him. “What do you think I meant? Dirty mind!” I turned back to Logan. “Sit down, relax, and I’ll make a plate for you if you’d like.”
“Oooh, the service here’s nice.”
I opened my mouth to make a sugar-daddy joke but was saved from embarrassment by the doorbell ringing. Since I was still holding the candy bowl, I turned to the door as Logan headed for the kitchen. A set of twins dressed as an angel and demon were there.
“Trick or treat!”
“Oh my. What great costumes.” I doled out the candy—giving them extra for being creative and adorable—and waved as they left. Then I passed the bowl to Jackson, who was lounging on the couch, sipping his drink.
Jackson winked at me. I rolled my eyes and followed Logan to the kitchen, where he was loading his plate. His playful façade had dropped, and now I could see the tension around his eyes and mouth. After fetching a cider for him from the fridge, I stood close to him as he wavered between the two types of deviled eggs. I bumped his shoulder. “What’s up?”
“Trying to pick an egg,” he said, not looking up.
I leaned closer, so my words were a soft murmur in his ear. “Why not have both?”
His chuckle was low and exhausted. “Why do I feel like we’re not talking about eggs?”
Angling over, I plucked a sriracha egg from the platter and set it on his plate. “What else would we be talking about, hmm?”
I was glad that after ten months together he understood my incompetent attempt to get him to talk about his emotions. I was also glad that he wasn’t as incompetent as me.
With the plate in one hand, he took my free hand and led me to a seat. He was smiling, sort of, but tension had his shoulders pulled taut. He sat down, then set his plate on the table and pulled me onto his lap. I came along willingly and put the drink down, so I was free to wrap my arms around his neck and rest my forehead against his.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Oh, is that what that meant?”
I nodded, though it was kind of weird with our heads like they were.
He sighed and readjusted me—just picked me up and shifted me on his lap and if this hadn’t been a Very Serious Conversation, I would have been turned on by the ease of the manipulation. But this was important, so I sat there, reclined sideways against him with his arm around my back. He moved his plate to my lap and picked at the food as we spoke. “The drama is getting to me, I guess. I hate to see my family fight, you know? They’ll work it out, eventually, but for the moment, it’s stressful being around them.”
I wanted to ask how he knew they’d work it out. There was nothing keeping them all together like blood kept a family together. Like having twenty-plus years together kept a family together. Maybe this argument would become a crack that grew and grew until it shattered their friendship apart. The thought chilled me.
I knew better than to actually say that though. Instead I tried to think about conflicts within my own family. Or at least with my sister, since in all other conflicts the victory automatically went to our parents. “Well, sometimes we need to avoid our families until tempers cool down, right? Like, you can’t always force things to work out. Sometimes time needs to work its magic.”
“So we shouldn’t get together at all, then?”
“Maybe don’t invite the people who are causing the conflict?”
“That’s, like, half the group. And we can’t have Erika there without Alessa.” He groaned, and I felt useless. There didn’t seem to be anything they could do except to tell everyone involved to grow up and get over themselves. Something told me—having met his friends—that they wouldn’t take kindly to that.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, tucking myself against his neck. “I wish I could help.”
He sighed—not like he was disappointed, but rather like the tension was leaving through his lips. The arm around my waist squeezed. “You being here, having a place for me to go, is help enough.”
I kissed his neck, because it was there and how could I not? “I’m here for you always.”
“Thank you.”
It felt like a promise, like something more than all the I love yous we’d said. It was the always that did it. That was a forever word. It should have been scary, that promise. The cause of the cold feet that grooms-to-be experienced on their wedding day. But it wasn’t. It felt right. I wanted nothing less than forever with him.
No matter what the cost.
My stomach cramped at the thought, because I had a feeling I knew what the cost would be, but I tightened my arm around him and he tightened his around me, and the certainty I felt in my promise was stronger than the fear.
Oh, I thought. Is this what it means when someone’s worth changing everything for?
“I love you,” I whispered. Now wasn’t the time to announce that I was willing to rock my world and come out to my parents, but I needed him to know.
He kissed me, and then moved the plate so he could wrap both arms around me without making a mess. “I love you too.”
And in those words, I felt all the different sorts of love he had for me. Passionate and romantic, of course, but also the bond of friendship, of being able to rely on each other and support each other.
I was so fucking lucky to have found him.
That sealed the deal. The fear of facing my parents was nothing compared to the fear of not having him here in my life. The decision wasn’t about ultimatums; it was about being able to share our lives completely with each other, to always be there to give the other strength.
I clung to this with all the strength I had to give.
The next day we stumbled out of bed exhausted, hungry, and completely satisfied. We’d gone to bed later than we’d planned and had gotten distracted on the coming and the going. Still, there was nothing urgent that we needed to do—only all those boring adult things like cleaning the shower, vacuuming, and maybe dusting. It was getting hard to see through the inch of dust that coated the TV screen.
But first, there was something I needed to do. To tell him. It involved him, after all.
We brewed our coffee, tore into the package of donut
s we’d bought, and settled at the table. I fiddled with my phone for a bit, glancing at the various apps I kept up with, but it couldn’t hold my attention. So much for a nice relaxing morning breakfast.
“Hey, Logan, can we talk?”
He glanced up from the book he was reading on his tablet, eyebrows quirked. “What is it?”
His gray eyes weren’t even that intense, but a flutter of nerves ran through me. I dropped my gaze to my phone, lying on the table, then changed the angle thirty degrees. Then back again. “So, I was thinking about what you said.”
A long pause followed, and then he put his hand over mine, which had still been twitching my phone around, and I looked up. He was watching me, a soft smile making him seem open and welcoming. “Oh? Which thing?”
“About coming out. To my parents. Since I’m out to everyone else.” I laughed nervously and shook my head. What was wrong with me? This was Logan. I shouldn’t be anxious. As if I’d needed the reminder, a small bit of tension bled out of my chest. This was Logan, and I loved him. “I want to tell them. I mean, I’m ready to tell them.”
His face lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. “You are?”
It was hard not to match that smile with one of my own. “I am. I’m scared as fuck, but—but you’re too important for me to pretend you aren’t the best part of every day.”
His eyes widened, not so much in surprise but in sappy joy. Warmth flooded through my chest, and I was probably blushing, but I didn’t care. I’d done that. I’d made him that happy. And, Jesus, I was doing this for me, but that was a fan-freaking-tastic bonus.
“You’re the best part of my days too,” he said, eyes still ridiculously wide.
The warmth spreading through me exploded into an intense heat that told me I was definitely blushing. I turned my hand over so I could clasp his, and leaned across the table. He met me halfway.
The kiss was surprisingly soft compared to the tight grip of our hands, but it spoke volumes. It was solid and there. If we hadn’t just finished up in the bedroom, I would have dragged us there. Instead, I sat back in my seat, our hands together, and took a sip of coffee. I was still terrified of the thought of telling my parents, and we had a ton of details to work out, but Logan was here, and that was all I needed.
With the first tinge of morning creeping through the window, hinting at a beautifully sunny day, it was easy to forget that it was Thanksgiving. Especially with Logan beside me, my body tucked along his, my hand exploring the far side of his torso, tracing the soft ridges of muscles down to his boxers and up again. I could almost envision the ink beneath my fingertips, dancing as the muscles shifted with each breath and twitch.
We could spend the whole day like this. The whole weekend, really. We both had off, they were calling for nice brisk autumn weather, and there were a thousand things we could do. Some of them even involved leaving bed.
Unfortunately, I had made a promise to several people.
“I still think giving them a little more notice would be better,” Logan said, rubbing his fingers through my hair.
“No, that’ll give them too much time to dwell on it. And it’s harder to hate someone face-to-face. If they see me and remember I’m their son, then they’ll take it better,” I insisted. Maybe I was right. Or maybe I was chickenshit and putting off revealing the truth as long as possible. I couldn’t tell. “Plus Sue will be there, so she can immediately run interference and calm them down if there’s a problem.”
“She could do that when she got there today if you called them first.” He sighed. “But I see your point, and I trust you to know your own family.” His hand trailed down my neck, following the slink of my spine. “And you’re sure about this?”
That was a trick question. I was sure I wanted to keep Logan with me for always, and that required telling my parents, if only because I wouldn’t keep him a secret any longer. I was sure I was tired of having to listen to my mom harp on me about finding someone, when I had someone waiting for me at home.
I was also very sure that I didn’t want to have to tell them. A huge part of me had wanted to send them an email with a picture of the two of us, saying he was my boyfriend and I was gay and I’d be bringing him for Thanksgiving. I hadn’t, though, for the same reasons I hadn’t called.
It was a little late to do it now. Especially since Mom and Dad only checked their email every few days and it wasn’t likely they’d see it in time. Of course, I’d had nearly a month to do it and I hadn’t, so chances were I wouldn’t have done it now either.
Logan gave my hip a squeeze. “Your silence is worrying me.”
I sighed and squirmed up to kiss him squarely on the mouth. “I’m sure. I’m terrified and going to second-guess myself until the words come out my mouth, but I’m also absolutely sure.”
He held me close for a soft kiss. “You’re a walking contradiction.”
I returned it and then rolled from his arms. As I sat, my heart was already fluttering in my chest at the thought of today. “I don’t want to do this, but I want it done. So I’m sure. Isn’t there a quote about that? Bravery means being afraid but doing it anyway?”
He sat with me, the sheets dropping to pile around his waist, the cool air throwing goose bumps across his skin and twisting his nipples into tempting peaks. I was distracted by them until his hand slid along my jaw, tilting my head up to meet his gaze and his kiss. “You are brave, and I’m proud of you. I love you.”
“I love you too. Okay, now we need to get up or I’m going to hide under the covers all day.”
His chuckle was deep and dirty and in no way discouraging me from doing just that, but he still got out of bed. “I’ll hit the shower first, then?”
I was a few seconds back, trapped in that throaty noise, so it took a moment for me to say, “Yeah, sure.”
He was gone from the room by the time I got out of bed and shuffled through my closet to decide what to wear. I’d selected a rust-orange shirt and gray jeans that almost passed for slacks and was laying them on the bed when it occurred to me that my amazing, and hot, boyfriend was currently in the shower, about to face what was likely going to be a shitty day. And he was doing it for me.
That deserved a reward.
Clothes abandoned, I headed to the bathroom.
“I’ll be done in a few minutes,” Logan said when I opened the door.
“Take your time.” I let my boxers slip to the floor and drew back the curtain enough to step into the shower with him.
He leaned his head out from under the spray of water and wiped his face off, blinking against the droplets dripping from his hair. It had gotten longer in the past eleven months, though still not shaggy. I pushed it back from his brow, and if that meant I had to step close to him, our naked bodies almost brushing, then that was what had to be done.
He smiled. “Joining me?”
I flashed my own grin. “Nope.”
I sank down, crouched with my butt on my heels and his glorious cock in front of my face, already awakening with interest. It was beautiful. Not some perfect porn-star cock—whatever that meant—but real and curved to the left and mine for the taking. So I did, sucking in the head between my lips and greeting the tip with my tongue.
He tasted clean, of water and a touch of soap, but taking him deep, I could still capture a hint of his own personal musk, a little salty, a bit smoky, and filling my mouth to its limit. As the head of his cock nudged the back of my mouth, nearly lodging in my throat, his fingers dug into my hair and clenched. “Jesus fuck,” he whispered.
I slurped off, being intentionally noisy, knowing the strange vibrations would tease all along his shaft. Judging by the way his fingers were massaging my scalp, I wasn’t wrong. I stopped with my lips around the flared head, taking some time to explore. Running my tongue over the slit, I could already taste the first hint of pre-come, and I wanted more. I teased along the crown, slipping under to the sensitive band of tissue and rubbing.
The only warning I got wa
s a growl. His cock was pulled from my mouth with a sloppy pop, and he grabbed me under my arms and hoisted me to my feet. I barely had a moment to regain my balance before I was pinned to the bathroom wall. The tile was cold against my back, but my shiver was from the hunger in his eyes. He cupped my head with one hand a moment before he kissed me so hard my head slammed back, only to be cushioned from the tiles by his palm.
I groaned as his tongue thrust into my mouth and his body pressed against me: straining cock slipping against mine, hips locking me in place. Squirming, I struggled simply to feel the slick, hot skin covering me. A blanket of power. I spread my legs as much as I could while still caged by him, and broke the kiss, my breaths coming in water-saturated pants. “This wasn’t the plan.”
“Oh?” He nipped at my bottom lip and ground his cock against me. “What was the plan?”
“A blowjob.” I nipped back. “To show how grateful I am for today.”
“Yeah?” His hands slid down my body, following the curve of the trailing water until his fingers swooped under my ass cheeks and tugged so that our bodies rocked together. “What if I want to show you how grateful I am too?”
I arched my hips toward his, resting my head against the wall and half closing my eyes. “You have my attention.”
“Do I?” He tugged again, but this time with force, picking me up. I gasped and spread my legs as I was lifted, and wrapped them around his hips, clinging. My eyes were open now, staring into his, my heart pounding. His grin would have been terrifying if I didn’t know him like I did. He growled, “Now I have your attention.”
“Yeah? But what about lube?”
It must have been the acoustics in the bathroom, because his chuckle sounded like the devil himself was all around me. It shouldn’t have made me thrust against him wantonly, but it did.
His one hand tightened on my ass, and the other buried itself in my hair again. “Hold on.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and squeezed my legs, so when he pulled away from the wall, I came with him. He turned us and slammed me against the back wall, out of the shower spray and setting us next to a cheap plastic shelving cabinet. I was barely aware of it. My breath was punched from my lungs as my head bumped against his hand and his fingers gripped my ass cheek.
Hard Truths Page 14
