A Wealth of Unsaid Words (18 page)

magazines, at least not as much as the hard cock on display.

And once again he realized that though his heart was

pounding and his stomach was tight, Everett had him

smiling.

“I think they"d approve,” Everett finally answered, and

Alex blinked, not certain he was hearing Everett right.

Everett"s parents loved him, he could admit that, but he

could hardly be their first choice for their son.

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He licked lips flavored with cocoa and rum and cleared

his throat. “You"re drunk, Everett.”

“Shitty timing, wasn"t it?” Everett seemed more pleased

than anything else, and Alex gave him a sharp look that only

made Everett"s smile turn triumphant. But a moment later,

he was swaying again.

“I
do
feel very tired.” Everett let go of Alex and slipped

back down onto the bed. He was sideways, but looked like he

could pass out like that just fine.

“Then turn around so you can sleep properly.” It was

difficult to pull his hands away and keep his tone easy.

Circumstances changed when the mind was clear. In the

morning this could still all be different.

“But it"s Christmas.” Everett"s protest was less effective

when he obediently shifted to lie the right way on the bed, if

on a different side than the night before, and dropped his

head onto the pillow.

“It will be Christmas when you wake up, too, with

everything that entails.” Alex stood up and then pulled the

blankets from under Everett with a bit of a struggle and

tucked him in. He could barely think or stand, but the

actions came naturally, perhaps from some childhood

memory of his father putting him to bed.

“Hangovers and gifts under the tree and us together

again….” Everett trailed off heavily. When he didn"t add

anything, Alex put a hand out to touch Everett again, though

he could still feel Everett"s hair between his fingers, and his

mouth was still bruised from one kiss.

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He touched his mouth, then snatched his hand away

and went to his luggage to pull out his pills. He swallowed

one dry, then kicked away his shoes and shrugged off his

pants. He left his sweater on the floor, making sure to shut

the bedroom door before he pulled off his T-shirt, too, and

got into bed.

It was cold, but that wasn"t why he scooted closer to

breathe against the back of Everett"s neck or why he

wrapped one arm around him, tight, until he forced himself

to relax. He waited even after that, thinking of reasons not to

do this, which alone proved he wasn"t crazy. He had every

reason in the world not to do this. But a little crazy was his

to keep, too, as much as the darkness was, as much as he"d

always wanted Everett to be.

Everett was drunk, Everett was half-asleep, but Everett

would remember this in the morning. Alex knew that. He

should wait until things were clearer, things were different.

He should wait. But his lips still felt warm from Everett"s

mouth, and he was out of his mind and body, and floating,

floating as he whispered the words into Everett"s ear.

“Everett Faraday, I"ve loved you since I was twelve years

old.”

Everett wiggled a hand free of the blanket to take hold of

his. He twined Alex"s frozen fingers between his and let out a

long, long breath.

“Merry Christmas to me.” Everett spoke warmly as

though already half-asleep and shuffled back against Alex

without letting go of his hand or saying another word. Alex

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didn"t move, not certain if he should when the morning

might change all of this. But after minutes spent listening to

Everett breathe and feeling their hands together, he let his

eyes close too.

o one should be woken up and dragged from the arms

of the man he loved by screaming children, even if the

N excited and far-too-loud voices and flailing bodies of

ecstatic kids had also saved that same man from a

potentially awkward or horrifying morning after. It

was too early for questions at six thirty on Christmas

morning.

He could only imagine the sickening shock that Everett

had experienced. Judging from his pale face as he"d hurried

toward the bathroom, he might be regretting a lot of things

from the night before. But there was no avoiding tradition—

including Molly, who, unlike her unfortunate roommate,

looked as though she"d never had a drop last night and was

acting twice as obnoxious as any of the youngsters.

She was still bouncing around, though it was a little

past seven, and everyone was up by now. A few stragglers

were still in the kitchen getting their coffee, as was Everett,

who was continuing his baked-goods duty from yesterday

and seeing to the cinnamon rolls he"d prepared in advance.

Alex stared down into his coffee, liberally dosed with

sugar, until Molly passed by, and then he shot her a glare.

“I hate you. I want that known.”

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Ally clucked at him from across the room where she was

taking pictures of the children as they finished off their

stockings.

“You love me, and I don"t care,” Molly sang out, a lot like

her brother, and then treated Alex to a quick, hot, sideways

glance that could have been, and probably was, an imitation

of how Everett looked at him. Then she grinned at his shock

and flounced back into the kitchen for more coffee.

“I don"t!” Alex collected himself enough to call out. “And

bring me a cinnamon roll, you horrible creature.” Exactly

how much that girl had witnessed during their teenage years

was now apparent. He was only really surprised that she"d

kept silent as long as she had.

“Uncle Alex is grouchy.” He actually heard a child say

those words, but when he looked over, no one was looking at

him.

“You"ll be grouchy this early on Christmas morning

someday too,” his mother told him. Alex appreciated calm

Rachel so much better than her annoying sister. It"s why he

got her nicer presents. He almost couldn"t wait for Molly to

open her gifts and make the inevitable comparisons. He

wouldn"t have much longer to wait.

He wasn"t sure whether to be grateful or not for the

reprieve as it only gave him more time to think about what

he"d done last night. He"d done all this, avoided Everett for a

year and proved to himself that he was strong enough and

sane enough now to be good for Everett, so he could finally

have Everett if Everett still wanted him, and now he felt

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frozen. Though perhaps petrified was a better word, turned

to stone with fear. A cranky, sick-to-his-stomach stone.

Everett wouldn"t hurt him for the world, but there was

love of family and there was burning passion, and though

what he felt for Everett was a melding of the two, it did not

mean the same was true for Everett anymore.

He rubbed his face, which was rough with the need to

shave. He wasn"t the only one, just as everyone but Molly,

somehow, looked in need of a hot shower. Robert was

sipping water and coffee in turns. Ty looked positively ill.

Alex found that more pleasing than he should.

“You don"t look like you have any Christmas spirit.” A

child"s voice brought his attention back to Rachel"s oldest,

Beth, staring at him.

“Bah! Humbug,” he grunted like he imagined Scrooge

would have, and then slurped at his coffee. George came in

just then and gave him a look, but didn"t comment. He had

another camera. Alex shut his eyes.

“Is everyone here? Is it time for presents?” George called

out, once again making questions into orders. Those hiding

in the kitchen almost immediately began streaming into the

living room and curling up wherever there was room. They

brought with them the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls.