Seth reached over and squeezed his hand. “Attaboy,” he softly said, wiping at his eyes with his other hand. “No kidding, middle of the night, anytime, you call me if you need me. I guess you and I are the official founding members of the unofficial twelve-step support group for kinky people who love people who know they are dying.”
Finally, Dustin felt like laughing. “Except I don’t believe in a higher power. And I have a feeling alcohol might end up becoming my friend for a little while.”
“Yeah, well, be careful with that, too. Doyle’s a counselor. So’s Ted Collins. I don’t know if either of them do grief support, but I know they’d refer you to good people. Or there’s always me.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“But…do me a favor, huh?”
“Yeah?”
“If Leah’s around and you need to talk to me, just say you had a question about ‘that project.’ Lots of people ask for my advice since I used to be a contractor. Her eyes will glaze over and she’ll do anything to get away from the discussion. Or if she asks how ‘that project’ is going, just say you’re still in the planning stages and weighing all the angles. Vague stuff, right? She’s in a good place, but I don’t want to test those waters, if you get my drift.”
He nodded. “Right.”
“Thanks, man.” He reached for his wallet, but Dustin stopped him. “No, my treat. Seriously. I appreciate you coming out and talking to me. Especially on such short notice.”
“I hope I was helpful.”
“You were.”
They stood and hugged. Seth left while Dustin pulled out his wallet and used the table-top computer to cash out.
He couldn’t focus on the whole fatherhood question. That would be like asking what kind of tires to put on a car he didn’t even own yet and might not ever buy. Wasted energy.
Energy Bryce really needed from him right now to keep him sane and upright and focused.
The quiet certainty settled across his soul like a comfortable quilt fresh out of the dryer on a freezing-ass day. For now, this was what he needed to do, and what Bryce and Kira needed him to do.
It felt right. Not just right, but the right thing to do.
He’d damn well do it.
Because he loved his Sir, and he was his Sir’s good boy.
It’s all he really wanted to be.
Chapter Seventeen
Dustin went home first, needing to be alone for a little while to fully absorb and digest his talk with Seth before he faced Bryce.
And Kira.
As he changed and repacked his overnight bag, he hesitated. How was this supposed to work, exactly?
The guy he was definitely in love with marrying a woman?
And raising a baby?
Except…
Everything else about Bryce was perfect. Everything between them was perfect. The man got him. It seemed like Bryce felt the same way about him.
Dustin knew he couldn’t put this off. He threw his laptop and overnight bag into the car and headed over to Bryce’s without texting him first. When he arrived, he wasn’t even all the way up the walk yet when the front door opened, as if Bryce had been watching and waiting for him.
Hoping he’d return.
If Dustin hadn’t made up his mind already, the sad desperation painted across Bryce’s face would have tipped him over the edge.
Inside the entry, with the door closed behind him, Dustin reached out and enveloped Bryce in his arms, tightly holding him, not missing the sigh of relief that escaped Bryce as he did. He buried his face in Bryce’s hair.
“Okay, Sir,” he whispered. “I love you. I cannot imagine what this is doing to you. I’m not going to be a dick about this. You do what you need to do for her, and I’ll support you because I love you.”
There were tears in Bryce’s eyes when he looked up, and Dustin realized Bryce wasn’t wearing his glasses. His blue eyes looked bloodshot, rimmed with red, his nose puffy.
“I love you, too,” Bryce whispered. “I’m sorry about this.”
Dustin cupped his face in his hands. “Don’t apologize for being a good friend, Sir.”
“Bryce and Dustin time.”
Dustin brushed Bryce’s tears away with his thumbs. “Yeah, honestly? There’s no difference. I mean it. I talked to Seth Erikkson today. He was nice enough to meet with me.” Dustin took a deep breath. “This sucks, and I never wanted to be a dad, I’ll be honest with you about that. But I’m not walking away from you, Sir. I need you in my life, and if that means I need to learn how to be a dad, then I guess that’s what I’ll do.”
“Please, move in with me.”
Kira appeared in the hallway. The surgical scar stood out in stark contrast to her brown hair.
He now understood why she’d jerked her hand away when she’d almost removed the hat during the FaceTime call.
“Please move in,” she echoed. “I feel badly enough about this as it is. I don’t want to come between you two.”
“You don’t have anything to feel bad about,” Dustin said. “You can’t help this. And I can’t blame you. I won’t blame you. This makes sense.”
She walked over but didn’t reach out to hug them. “Are you really okay with this? I wouldn’t forgive myself if this comes between you.”
Dustin rested his head against Bryce’s. “I’m really okay with this. And yes, I’ll move in. Actually, hold off buying a bed. If you like mine, you can use it.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said. “Thank you.”
“No, you’re…” He swallowed, trying to buy himself time to think of how best to say it. “I want you to be comfortable. Try it first. We can always put it in storage if not.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
Dustin knew he had to do this. For Bryce, and for himself. He opened an arm to her, to draw her into their hug. Bryce did, too.
She started crying. “I’m sorry. You guys should be having fun and making a life together, and now here I am.”
“It’s okay.” Dustin kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her the way he had Bryce. “We’re a team now.” He gave them an abbreviated version of his discussion with Seth that afternoon. “I’m not saying I’m perfect or won’t stumble from time to time, but you both seem to have faith in me. And I love Bryce. I can’t walk away from him. Especially not now.”
He met Bryce’s gaze, and the gratitude filling Bryce’s blue eyes also threatened to break Dustin’s heart.
All of this.
Everything.
“Apologies in advance if we sometimes get loud,” Dustin said. “Apparently he’s turned me into a moaner.”
It had the desired effect. Tearful laughter erupted from her, and she smiled up at him, her brown eyes as red as Bryce’s, her nose red and puffy.
They must have cried a lot today.
“You can be as loud as you want,” she said. “I have earbuds. I’ll put on music and crank it up.”
“Good. Because he’s pretty dang loud, too.”
“Oh, well, that I knew. I lived with him.”
* * * *
Bryce went to go start cooking them dinner while Dustin put his things in Bryce’s room. Aware that Kira followed him and stood in the doorway, he turned.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
He nodded.
She stepped in and closed the door behind her. She kept her voice low. “He really loves you. He’s in love with you and he loves you. I’ve known him most of my life and never saw him like this before.”
He suspected this was all her talking. He couldn’t believe Bryce would send her in to do this for him. That wasn’t his style.
“I love him, too.”
“If I had any other option available, I’d take it. But I don’t. I don’t want my parents to be the ones to have to make the decision to withdraw life support. And if I give them custody of my baby, it would leave everything easier for Shawn to challenge later just to spite them, because he didn’t like them any more than h
e liked B.”
“It’ll destroy him to do that to you, you know. To make the decision.”
“Not if he has you to love him and for him to lean on.”
He sat on the end of the bed. “You apparently have more faith in me than I do.”
“I don’t need to have faith in you. I have faith in him, and he has faith in you.” She walked over and sat next to him. “I wish I’d listened to my gut about Shawn back in college. That night he went off when he found out B and I had slept together one fricking time in high school should have ended things right there. He was even more of a dick to Bryce after that, and I tried to rationalize it was just alpha male machismo.
“The truth was, Shawn was a dick because Bryce is one of the most alpha guys I’ve ever met. Even though Shawn was a bigger guy, he could never intimidate B. You don’t know it if you don’t know Bryce. Can’t tell it just by looking at him. Stealthy.”
Dustin nodded.
“It sneaks up on you,” she said. “People always underestimate him. That’s why he’s such a great trial attorney. He doesn’t come off as some douchey asshole.”
“Exactly.”
“He pulls you in. Like he makes his own gravity. You don’t realize it at first, until you’re already in orbit around him. Once that happens…” She shrugged, smiling. “Then he’s got you.” Her hand closed around his. “I’m sorry we won’t have more time together. I’d really like to be friends with you.”
He reached for her, gently hugging her. “We’ll be friends for as long as we can be, sweetie.”
* * * *
Thursday morning, Bryce and Kira introduced Dustin to the ritual of banana pancakes. This morning, she’d tied a scarf around her head, hiding the scar and giving the illusion of a woman with her whole life ahead of her.
“Since you won’t be able to sleep late Sunday morning,” she said to Dustin, “I talked Bryce into getting everything yesterday at the store so you could celebrate with us today.”
“How’d you know I’d be here this morning?” Dustin asked.
She smiled. “I had faith.”
They cranked up Jack Johnson on the stereo, the two friends singing along and knowing all the songs by heart. Dustin’s heart ached for Bryce every time Dustin caught him starting to choke up, or his smile fracturing even the slightest.
This has to be breaking his heart.
Dustin finally joined in. None of them were completely on-key at the same time. As he threw himself into it, it felt good to know that, at least once in his life, he did one truly decent thing for another human being.
No matter what happened after Kira died or the baby was born—because, technically, she could die and her body be kept alive long enough to deliver the baby—for right now, Dustin would be there for Bryce and Kira.
As they sat and ate at the small kitchen table, Bryce leaned in and kissed him. “You can call me Sir around her.” He’d dropped the nakey time rule yesterday, and Dustin had worn shorts this morning.
“Doesn’t bother me,” she assured Dustin. “I’ve known he was kinky for years. As many times as he tied me up when we were kids, it’s not exactly a shocker.”
That finally pulled a laugh from Dustin. “So what was he like as a kid?”
“Oh, gawd,” Bryce muttered. “Can I safeword?”
She grinned. “Pretty much the smart-ass he is now. I’ve always told him he’s an old soul. Every time he’d date some twink his own age and come home grousing that all the guy wanted to do was go clubbing or whatever, I’d warn him he wasn’t dating the right age range.”
“Okay, okay,” Bryce said. “You were right and I was wrong. Better?”
Her laugh sounded clear, light. “You wouldn’t do more than have coffee with that one literature professor I tried to fix you up with. He was eight years older than you.”
“He was a smoker. Yuck. It was like kissing an ashtray. No, thank you.”
The longer they talked, the more Dustin could see the dynamic between them.
And the barely concealed pain.
Both trying to be strong for the other.
Shit.
Beyond the obvious, because of his love for Bryce, Dustin knew Kira needed his strength as much as Bryce did.
It also reinforced his decision to do this.
“When can we move you in?” Bryce asked as they were cleaning up the kitchen.
This was real. Really happening.
Unstoppable, unfortunately.
The cancer didn’t give a shit about Dustin’s reservations about a baby, or his love for Bryce, or even Bryce’s love for Kira.
The cancer didn’t care.
“We can stop by my place on the way home from our errands this morning, so I can grab a load of clothes and we can clean out my fridge. I’ll let them know at work this is my last month living there. I’ll need to rent a truck to move my furniture.”
“I’ll pay for that,” Bryce offered.
“No,” Kira said, cutting Dustin off before he could reply. “I’ll pay for it.”
Dustin turned.
Brows raised, chin set. She meant business.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to do it. Consider it an early housewarming gift from me. I’ve got the money.” She snorted. “Not like I can take it with me—”
Bryce clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his sob. Dustin was closer and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly as Kira stood and stepped in behind him, wrapping her arms around both of them.
“I’m sorry, B. Me and my mouth. I promise I’ll try to tone it down.” Her gaze landed on Dustin, both apologetic and silently screaming, And this is why he needs you.
* * * *
After breakfast, the three of them headed to the county courthouse to get a marriage license for Bryce and Kira. Bryce drove, but Kira insisted on sitting in the back and letting Dustin ride shotgun.
“I kind of like this,” she joked. “Kind of like having a chauffeur. Making the Dom drive me around. I could get used to this.”
“That’s it. You love me only for my wheels.” Bryce’s light tone barely concealed the pain Dustin knew lay in his heart.
Dustin also knew that, yesterday, Bryce had taken her to the DMV to get her Florida state ID. She willingly gave up her license, not trusting herself behind the wheel anymore, now that she knew what she was up against.
Dustin couldn’t blame her. In fact, he respected her for it, knowing how difficult it was for her to give up her independence.
He wasn’t sure if their positions were reversed that he’d be handling everything so…calmly.
Last night, Bryce had cried himself to sleep in Dustin’s arms after making love to him.
Not fucking, not sex, not kinky, not Sir and boy—but a man in pain seeking solace and comfort.
Dustin would always give that to him, as much as he could.
Everything that he could.
Always.
Getting the marriage license was straightforward. Since it was Thursday, there wasn’t anything else they could do about it until Monday, since the state had a three-day waiting period.
On the walk back to the car, Kira hooked arms with both of them and smiled. “Enjoy your last romps as a single guy,” she teased. “I’m gonna make an honest man outta ya.”
Dustin couldn’t help but laugh.
“I forgot to warn you she’s a ball-buster,” Bryce said.
“Spoiler alert!” She giggled.
* * * *
They stopped by Dustin’s apartment next. When he pulled his keyring from his pocket, he stared at the two new keys on his keyring, for the front and side doors at Bryce’s house. Bryce had given them to him last night, as well as an alarm code and a clicker for the garage door opener.
“I’ll start on the fridge for you,” Bryce said.
“Okay.” He turned to Kira to find her studying his books almost identically to the way Bryce had the first time Dustin brought him there. “Did yo
u want to try my bed?”
She turned to him with a playful smirk. “That’s what she said.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve made him scream my name in that bed,” Bryce called from the kitchen. “Among other noises. Many times.”
“Nice to know you haven’t lost your touch, B,” she called back. “I’d be ashamed of you if he hadn’t at least moaned a little.”
She held Dustin’s arm and let him lead her down the hall to the bedroom.
“Don’t be fooling around with my guy,” Bryce called after them. “I have dibs on him.”
“I’m allowed to look and lust, B.” She laid her head over on Dustin’s shoulder. “God, I’ve missed him,” she whispered. “I envy you.”
“Envy?” They’d reached his bedroom at the end of the hall.
“Yeah.” She released his arm and sat on the bed, lying back on it. “You get the rest of your life with him. I mean, so do I, but not nearly as long as you’ll have.” She shifted around a little, relaxing. “This is nice. Perfect. Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I wish I could do more for you.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. “You’re taking care of him. And, hopefully…” She patted her tummy. “You have no idea how much I love you for that.”
“You barely know me.”
“I don’t need to know you to love you. He loves you. That’s good enough for me.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dustin wasn’t surprised that Bryce didn’t drop in on his open house Saturday. He figured with Kira there, Bryce would want to spend as much time with her as possible. She’d even gone to Bryce’s ASL class with him Friday evening.
What surprised Dustin was when he returned home to Bryce’s late Saturday afternoon and learned they were all going to dinner at Sigalo’s that evening.
This, apparently, was Kira’s doing.
“I want to meet the people responsible for putting a smile on this guy’s fugly mugly.” With a scarf tied in place—today a leopard print—and carefully twisted and positioned as a headband, it was easy to pretend she wasn’t dying.
Our Gravity [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations ManLove) Page 16
