Here for You (24 page)

Cole laughed. “Ian, believe me, that’s not a problem. I feel plenty focused on, especially after the past few nights.”

“Good.” Ian glanced at Cole, a bit happier now, even if he couldn’t tell Cole exactly what was in his heart. “If I ever neglect you in any way, tell me.” He paused a beat. “And I want you to know there’s nobody else I could imagine wanting but you.”

“Thank you,” Cole murmured. “Same here.” He patted the space next to him. “C’mere.”

Ian went. He perched on the edge of the bed.

“If you ever stopped noticing me, I wouldn’t walk away like Sam.”

“No?”

“No, I’d grab you by the balls and drag you into bed, and I’d make you pay attention.”

Ian snorted. “You would, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Cole put the tray aside. He met Ian’s eyes. “Nobody has ever wanted to talk so much to me. About… feelings and such.”

“Too lawyerlike? I was trying to avoid that. Am I discussing it all too much? I’m sorry.”

“No, I like it,” Cole said simply. “You’re kind of adorkable.”

“Adorkable? That’s not even a real word.”

“You beg really cutely for forgiveness, that’s kind of hot,” Cole teased. Then his face grew serious. “It makes you more human. I used to think you were too damn perfect for me.”

Ian reached for Cole’s hand, clasping his fingers. “Oh, I’m human, all right.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Ian lowered his hand to Cole’s crotch. “I better show you.”

Cole shoved him playfully. “What if I don’t want to be shown?”

“I can convince you. I’m good at demonstrations.”

“Ah, there’s my confident Ian. Good to have you back.”

“I never really left the building.”

At Cole’s chuckle, Ian took advantage of the moment to strip the covers away. He settled himself between Cole’s legs. In this way, at least, he could love Cole like he wanted.

H
E
CLOSED
his eyes and let the steamy water rain down. Ian’s mouth curved. Another shower and the morning had only begun. Ahhh, but it was so worth it, even if his skin got wrinkled from the water. Rarely had Ian allowed himself the pleasure of showering with somebody else.

As if he did it every day, Cole began to rub soap up and down Ian’s back. And weirdly, it felt so natural to allow himself to be cared for like this. Cole continued to wash him, making appreciative murmurs as he went. Ian quivered, despite the hot water. Even as desire shot through him, another part of him simply felt cared for, and it was in Cole’s tender touches that made his throat close over with gratitude. He was awfully glad to be here with Cole.

“I like this,” Ian sighed.

“Yeah?” Cole smiled at him. “How much?”

“Hmmm… let me think on it.”

“Better than candy?”

“Just as sweet.”

“Better than sleeping in?” Cole asked.

“That’s you. I’m the early riser.”

“True. All right, then. Is it better than video games?”

“We-ell….” Ian drawled out the word as if conflicted, making Cole laugh.

“Maybe it could become a game. Wii Shower,” Cole joked, and it was Ian’s turn to chuckle.

“Call me old fashioned, I prefer plain old
we
shower.”

As they shared a brief laugh, Ian’s heart lifted. How could he resist Cole’s pull? He had a guy who made him hard and hot, who made him feel cared for, and who made him laugh. The combination was dizzying.

Ian realized his own arms had been down at his sides far too long, and he gathered Cole to him.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

Ian paused. That was true past today. The depth of his feelings seemed timeless, but he couldn’t put the wondrous jumble of his emotions into words. If he tried, he’d stumble like a schoolboy. He leaned his weight against Cole, hugging him tightly. “Good thing I was about to ask you to lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah, remember? I mentioned my father might come to town? Well, he’s here.” Ian nuzzled Cole’s neck. “He’s in Fort Lauderdale this week and texted me that he’s free for lunch. Can you come with me?”

“Oh. Do you think I should be there? I mean… you haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Cole,” Ian said softly but firmly. “I’ve spent time with you at your house, met the people closest to you. My parents and I don’t have the best of relationships, but yes, I want you there.”

Cole studied the shower floor a moment, then lifted his gaze to Ian’s. “Then I’ll be there.”

C
OLE
STOOD
outside River’s door and knocked. As agreed, Tomas was at his side. The group dinner had been a step, but River needed to take another one.

When River answered the door, Cole held out a box. “It’s time to go through his things, River.” Cole’s voice was gentle.

“We’ll help,” Tomas said, holding out another box.

“I….”

“We don’t have to pack it all. Let’s just do a little today, okay?”

River bit his lip. “Not his music collection. We listened to it all the time. Not all his clothes. I want—I want some.”

“Okay, deal. How about Tomas packs some clothes and leaves some. I’ll tackle his books. I know the law books could be put to good use. Ian’s new assistant might want them. Or we could donate some books to a library too. I think Brendan would like that.”

“Yeah.” River’s green eyes flickered with emotion. “But I can’t be here. Do it. Okay? Fucking do it.”

He fled the room.

“Poor guy.” Tomas went to Brendan’s closet. River’s stuff was kept right by the bed, packed in a duffel bag or two, as if he were only a guest and Brendan still lived in the room. In a way, Cole supposed, that was the case.

He sat at Brendan’s bookshelf and smiled a little at the books, but there was a pang of sadness in his heart. He moved along, organizing them by topic rather than alphabetically, starting with the heavy law books and then moving toward the fiction section. When he reached for John Irving, a piece of paper and an envelope fell out.

Cole picked it up and immediately recognized Brendan’s loopy handwriting:

Dear Owen,

I found your name and address among my mom’s things when helping her with an insurance matter. I know Mom contacted you once and asked you to stop sending her letters asking to meet, but she kept what you wrote for years. After I found it by accident, I wanted to write to you straightaway. I’ve always dreamed about a sibling, but my mom was pretty upset at the idea, and since our relationship is already rocky, I’ve struggled over what to do. If you are reading this letter, I guess I sent it.

A little about me. I’m studying to be a lawyer, and I’m gay. I’ve heard plenty of criticism from my parents about both. But it’s who I am. If those two facts don’t turn you against me, then we’re good.

I live in Ocean Vista, Florida, near the water. My housemates are the best. I don’t know what else to write, Owen. I’m boring, maybe. I think people like me. I try to be a good person. By the way, I love your name. A Prayer for Owen Meany is my all-time favorite book. Are you a reader? My dad isn’t. He thinks I’m “putting on airs” whenever I discuss books. My mom, our mom, reads when he is at work.

If you want to write me back, I’d love that. No pressure. I’d understand if, after my mom’s flat-out rejection, you are not interested. But I hope with all my heart that you are.

Your brother,

Brendan

S
HOCK
ZIPPED
through him. Cole quickly re-read the letter.

“What is it?” Tomas asked. He had Brendan’s T-shirts in his hand. “You’re sitting there looking weird.”

Cole shook his head numbly. He held out the letter.

“Holy shit,” Tomas said.

“Did you know about this?”

“No. You?”

“No. I guess he kept it a secret.”

“Maybe because he never sent it?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think River knew?” Tomas asked.

“Let’s go and ask him.”

R
IVER
HELD
the letter in his hand, his fingers skimming over the words. “He spoke to me about it once,” River said, his voice so soft, Cole could barely hear him. “But I didn’t know about a letter. I thought he rejected the idea of contacting him because of his mom.”

“Knowing Brendan, he couldn’t simply forget that he had a brother once he learned about it.” Tomas spoke gently.

“I can’t believe this.” Cole leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Here.” River handed the letter to Cole. “Do what you want with it. I don’t care. Without Brendan, I just don’t care.”

As he left the room, Tomas shook his head. “He’s become too good at that. At running away. Should we mail it?”

“No.”

“No? Don’t you think Brendan would have mailed it? I do. I think he would have eventually sent this,” Tomas said, his dark eyes thoughtful. “The address is right there in the top corner.”

“No, I don’t agree. He didn’t send it. He kept it in a book, that’s all. If Brendan never sent it, why should we?” Cole’s mouth turned down. “I’m going to throw it away.” But Cole wasn’t sure he could do that either. It was Brendan’s writing, his voice.

“Oh. All right. I suppose it doesn’t matter really, like River said.” Tomas patted his back. “I won’t bother Sandy or Marc with this.”

“Not much point.” Cole stood, the letter in his hand. Then he saw the clock and freaked.

“Oh shit! Tomas, I need to borrow your truck. Please?”

“Sure, but what is it?”

“I’m late to meet Ian.”

“But wait, what about the boxes? And the letter?”

“Leave the boxes.” Cole jammed the letter into the front pocket of his jeans. “I can’t deal with all that now.”

A
S
HE
worked throughout the morning, Ian anxiously counted down to lunchtime. His father could be a bit… cold. Ian worried about that, but he knew his father was too well mannered to be out-and-out rude.

Right before he left for the restaurant, Cole texted.

B there soon. We finally convinced River to part with a few of Brendan’s things. All went crazy. But I’ll tell u later about it. See u soon.

Ian texted back a happy face. But inside, his stomach clenched. He got a little tense at the mention of Brendan. It only reminded Ian that he was keeping things from Cole. For his own good, but still…. It troubled him. Should he tell him?

Ian drove to the restaurant lost in thought. He would tell Cole, he decided. Time had passed, and Cole was less fragile than he’d been a month ago. If their relationship was to move forward, Ian didn’t want any secrets. He’d tell him tonight maybe.

I
AN
’
S
FATHER
always shook his hand. Ian couldn’t recall the last time they had hugged, if ever. Had his father touched him outside of a quick grasp of his hand? Ian had always been a good son. Maybe his much older siblings had stormed out of the house or bickered over his father’s rules, but Ian had never done that. He’d tried to relate to his father with good grades and ambition. But they remained remote to each other. He waited, all his life it seemed, for his father to spare him an honest look.

He was waiting on his father now.

His father was a good-looking man with a small hard gut at his middle but otherwise in decent shape for an older man. Ian knew he golfed or played tennis every week. When they were a couple, Sam had played with him and urged Ian to do the same. Ian tried, but he had trouble being himself around his father. Hell, he often thought his dad would have preferred Sam as a son.

His mother, who hadn’t come on this trip, was what people referred to as a “handsome” woman. She’d worked from the time Ian was born, declaring she’d had enough of being a stay-at-home mom. Ian was proud of his mother, who’d become the first manager of IT in her department, but between that and her attention on Ian’s siblings and their growing brood of grandkids, which Ian didn’t offer, she had little time for much else.

Ian sat waiting at Sweet Tomatoes. His father liked a buffet even though he always chose the exact same thing.

Cole burst through the door of the restaurant, his dark hair messy, his teeth sunk into his lower lip as he found Ian. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I borrowed Tomas’s truck, and I forgot to ask him if it had gas. Of course it was on E, so I had to stop. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“It’s okay.” Ian smothered a smile. Cole sat down next to him, still looking agitated, and gave him a big hug. If Ian’s oh-so-proper father had been there, he would have scowled at Cole’s sloppy and heartfelt display of affection. Starks never showed their feelings in public; they weren’t too keen on showing them in private either.

Cole still had his arm hooked over Ian’s shoulder affectionately. Ian liked it. A lot.

“Where’s your dad? In the restroom or something?” Cole rubbed his palm over his jeans.

“He’s not here yet.”

Ian frankly didn’t care what his father thought of Cole. If he couldn’t see all his wonderful qualities, then to hell with him. He’d spent his early years craving that kind of approval, sweating it out in his father’s study as his father examined Ian’s one B+ in a row of As, and he was done with that sort of thing. Ian loved him, but he didn’t live for his father or anybody else in his family. He was his own man—a man who was totally head-over-heels, heart-thwacking, pulse-pounding crazy for his boyfriend.

Ian took a fast gulp of water. Head over heels? What did that mean, exactly? That he
loved
Cole? He choked suddenly, coughing the water back up, some of it going up his nose, and he grabbed a napkin to swipe his mouth.

“You okay?” Cole frowned. He patted Ian’s back.