Here for You (28 page)

He gave Cole’s rim small licks and kisses and then plunged his tongue in fully, making Cole nearly come off the bed as Ian used his mouth on him. It was almost scary. How much Cole’s guttural moans mattered to him. How Ian’s every nerve ending became equally charged. Everything between them was natural and urgent at the same time. Eagerly, Cole took his cock in his hand and pumped it frantically. “I need—” He groaned.

Ian couldn’t manage an answer. He was beyond words, though he needed it as much as Cole. Beyond the need there was inexpressible joy—unlike anything he’d ever had before. There was love.

Ian swung back, rolled on the condom and moved on top of Cole. He stopped the motion of Cole’s hand, and their eyes met. Cole looked tender and dreamy. Beautiful. Ian paused to line up at his entrance, and Cole’s eyes darkened. Ian could have lingered there, watching Cole’s need and hunger, his anticipation. But his own desire was too overwhelming. With a low groan, he thrust forward. Something deep inside of Ian surrendered to it all, and even as he took Cole and made him his, Ian felt equally possessed. The headboard rocked as they moved in a smooth rhythm, meant to be one, connected.

Cole cried out, and Ian responded, his balls drawing tight, his climax rushing through him.

M
UCH
LATER
,
Ian drove Cole to his house. They were quiet on the drive, but Cole took his hand and squeezed his fingers. When they got inside everybody was home, and they were quite interested in seeing Cole’s tattoo.

“I can’t believe you got Cole to get inked. He’s fucking terrified of needles,” Marc said.

“I wouldn’t say terrified,” Cole huffed.

“I saw him pass out once at a blood bank,” Tomas offered. “And I was the one giving the blood.”

“He was impressively brave,” Ian said loyally before his mouth quirked. “He only cried once.”

“Hey!” Cole glared at him.

“Come on, sweetheart. Can’t take a little criticism?”

“I can. And your pasta is undercooked.”

“What?” Ian laughed. “That’s the best you got?”

“Nobody wants a limp noodle,” Cole said.

“That’s overcooked,” Marc said. “Now stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and show us the tattoos.”

“Yes, show us the tattoo,” Tomas seconded.

Cole and Ian looked at each other, smiled, and then carefully unveiled the tattoos.

“Matching? Christ! You two are girls.”

“It’s sweet,” Sandy gushed.

“See? Totally a chick thing to want,” Marc said.

“Are you calling me a chick?” Sandy protested.

“Chicks are way tougher than you, Sandy.”

“I like the hourglass,” Tomas said. He gently ran a finger down Ian’s. “Very cool.”

They’d gotten a gold-and-black hourglass, half-filled with sand. There was also sand running down the top of it. Krista had added some delicate, beautiful wings on the edges of it as if time really could fly, which it could. Time could fly or shatter or simply run out, and both Ian and Cole thought it fitting.

“I’m feeling a little addicted to it all,” Ian confessed. “I want to run right out and get more.”

“Yeah, man, that’s how it starts.”

“Not me. Once was enough.” Cole shuddered visibly. “Never again.”

C
OLE
WENT
to see Andrew at The Busy Day Café. He deliberately picked a quiet hour between lunch and dinner, so they could chat in relative privacy. Before that, he’d stopped off at the local community college. He still had the brochures tucked under his arm.

“What’s that?” Andrew asked after serving him a latte.

“Oh, information on college courses. I’m thinking of trying a few out.”

Andrew looked at the brochures with interest and then looked away. “I never went. I’m not exactly college material.”

“I screwed up in high school too. But I might give it a shot.”

“Good for you.” Andrew smiled, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, Cole sensed a story behind his lack of education. He wondered why Andrew hadn’t gone to college if he’d wanted to go. He had a good, supportive family as far as Cole knew.

“How about you? Anything new since you and John broke up?”

“Not much, honestly. Just been working a lot. That and trying to figure out how to avoid moving back with my family.”

“We might have some room at the house.”

“No shit?” Andrew stared at him gratefully. “That would be great. I thought Sandy moved in, though. How come you have space?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure.”

“No, I mean really keep one. Because this is something I need to talk to the others about soon. I don’t want it getting out yet.”

“You can trust me.”

“Okay, I need to—it relates to having you move in and all.” Cole plunged ahead before he would lose his nerve. “I’m going to live with Ian. I want to call all the guys together and tell them, but I need to know I have a replacement for my share of the rent before I do. So, you game? Are you seriously interested in moving into our house? ’Cause if not, I got to approach somebody else. I won’t leave them otherwise….”

“And you want me?” Andrew looked pleased. His mouth curved up. He was handsome in a delicate sort of way, like a young beautiful angel, all blond hair and blue eyes. Cole smiled back, thinking John had been a total idiot to break it off with him.

“I think you’d be perfect for the house.”

Andrew readily agreed, and they shook on it. Nothing would happen right away, but they parted with a tentative plan in place.

Now Cole just had to tell his housemates. As much as he was in love with Ian, he hated the thought of calling one last “family” meeting. For the first time since they’d all moved into the house together, Cole would be pushing apart instead of holding them together. He wondered how he could be hurt and happy all at once.

H
EARING
YOU
’
RE
loved is easier than believing it
, Cole thought as he sat near Ian by the ocean, drinking Sprite out of a paper cup. He had to pinch himself these days to make certain it was real. He’d set his future in motion by talking to Andrew. It was time to stop pussyfooting around.

It was nearly sunset, and most of the beach was deserted, but Cole and Ian liked coming there after work. The evenings were less hot than earlier in the day, granting a break from the constant humidity.

For a moment, he simply gazed at Ian. He was such a good man, so kind and true, always giving Cole his full attention, Cole could barely believe it.

“Going to cool off,” he told Ian and abruptly stood. He needed to work on shedding the old Cole—the one full of doubts—and accept he might be worthy of Ian’s affection.

“Okay. Want me to come?”

“No, you relax. Read the newspaper you brought.”

“All right.”

As he marched toward the sea, Cole wished he could tell Ian how much he meant to him. How much Ian’s faith in him meant. The days had whizzed past him in a blur of happiness. His initial shock was gone about living together, and slowly he was getting his footing. Ian trusted him. Ian made him feel as if he could do anything.

Cole cast his gaze to the horizon. Did he do the same for Ian? Sometimes “I love you” seemed not enough. Cole wanted to show Ian in a big way. If he had lots of money, he’d buy Ian some type of gift, or plan a big trip with him. Maybe someday….

He stared at the sea. Then again, maybe a dependable “I love you” was all you need. He remembered longing for that as a kid.

Cole went for a quick dip in the ocean, letting the cool water soothe his thoughts away, while Ian took out the paper and rested on the fuzzy blanket they’d brought. Cole did a few strokes against the tide, dipping up and down with the current. Then he flipped onto his back and stared at the bright blue sky. He remembered suddenly the day he’d met Tomas and Marc. The day he’d met River too. Cole swallowed hard, not wanting to think about Brendan but unable to resist it. He floated along the current, the ocean as solitary as being in the womb, and he saw Brendan’s face.

The day he first saw Ian came back to him. A longing so massive it took up all the space in his body filled him, and Cole sucked in a deep breath.

He knew he was more in love with Ian than he’d ever been with anybody. It wasn’t like the others he’d flirted with or imagined himself in love with—this was a true, grown-up love. A real love. Cole felt it down to his bones. It was huge, bigger than all that had come before.

He was only sad that Brendan’s death had led him to so many important epiphanies. He wished his friend could be here. Maybe the urge to see Brendan and confide in him, like he used to do, would never leave him, the ache never fade. Cole didn’t know. He wondered what Brendan would have dreamed, what changes he’d have followed if given the chance.

For courage, he’d been carrying around Brendan’s letter to his brother. Cole kept it in the backpack he often took to Ian’s. He had the words memorized by now. Even though it wasn’t addressed to him, Cole found strength in reading Brendan’s thoughts.

God knew, he’d need some strength soon. Tomorrow, Cole planned to tell the guys he was leaving. Since he and Ian discussed the idea of living together a few weeks back, Cole couldn’t bear to be apart from him, not even for a second. When Cole was with him, which was most nights, Ian couldn’t stop touching him, which confirmed that Ian felt the same way. He wanted to be with Ian, and now that Andrew had agreed to take his place in the house, there was nothing standing in his way.

Cole turned to face the sand and found Ian was looking right at him with a sweet smile on his face, and Cole’s heart contracted. He gave a big wave. With his neglected newspaper sitting in his lap, Ian waved in return.

Cole left the water and made a beeline straight for him. He paused at the edge of their blanket to shake the water drops from his head like a dog, and then reached for the towel Ian held out.

“Good swim?”

“Really good.”

Cole lightly touched Ian’s hand. “Let’s go.”

M
UCH
LATER
,
Cole pulled on a pair of sweatpants and made his way down to Ian’s kitchen for a glass of water. Swimming at the beach should have worn him out, but it was past midnight, and he couldn’t sleep.

He drank the water noisily—he was so damn thirsty. Then he got out Brendan’s letter and re-read it. Again.

Cole did not know which decision would be harder to discuss with the other guys. His moving out or how he’d come to feel about Brendan’s brother.

“Hey.” Ian came in, wearing cotton briefs, scratching the cute little vee of chest hair he had. “Sorry I dozed off there.”

They had made love earlier. Cole had been on top and right when he’d collapsed on Ian, both of them sated, Ian kissed him and mumbled, “Give me ten more minutes.”

“For what?”

“Round two.”

“Insatiable much?”

“For you? Absolutely.”

Cole had felt a sharp ache, knowing the words were true. He was at a crossroads, he realized, like Brendan once spoke of, and he could run or he could accept what he wanted.

“Love you,” Ian had said, closing his eyes and smiling contentedly. “Going to show you how much in a minute.”

Despite Ian’s sweetly mumbled words, in a minute, he’d drifted peacefully off to sleep. Cole kissed the curve of his neck, and then he’d eased off and come downstairs.

“I didn’t intend to fall asleep on you. I wanted more.”

“’S okay.”

Ian sat down, straddling a chair across from him. He peeked at what was in Cole’s hands. “What are you reading?”

“Brendan’s letter to his brother.”

“The letter.” Ian’s eyebrows raised in question.

“Yeah, the letter. Sometimes I read it. It gets me thinking about how lucky I feel these days. I’ve come to believe that if he’d lived, Brendan would have sent the letter. He addressed it and everything. The only thing stopping him was his folks’ reaction.” Cole took a swig of his water. “Brendan doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ve decided to send it. I’ll write a letter with it, explaining what happened, but I think it’s the right thing to do, to let his brother know that Brendan gave a damn even if their mother didn’t.”

“Well, we don’t know why she refused to see the brother.”

“Whatever. A parent should always want to reach out to their child. But let’s not debate Brendan’s mother.” Cole cleared his throat. “I’m going to write to Owen—that’s his name—and maybe he won’t respond, maybe he won’t care, but I’m hoping he will.”

“Are you sure? You’re opening a door that can’t be closed.”

“It was already open. Brendan opened it. I’m just giving his brother a chance to walk through. Don’t you think he’d want to learn about Brendan? Who he was? Know that he cared?”

“I hope so,” Ian hedged.

“You think I’m wrong.”

“I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

“Thanks,” Cole said thickly. “And, if I’m wrong, time will tell.”

They left the kitchen and went upstairs, where Ian made good on his promise for round two.

“W
HERE
IS
it?” Cole rummaged under the bureau on his hands and knees as Ian watched. “Crap. I know I put my wallet on your dresser last night. Where could it be?”

“I’m sure it’s here.”

“We’ll be late for dinner, and I asked the guys for this meeting.” Cole dusted off his jeans and stood up. He frowned and looked around. Then, clearly agitated, he dropped to his knees again. “Get me a flashlight, will you? It must have fallen.”

He got Cole the flashlight, and they spent the next thirty minutes searching for his lost wallet.

“Fuck it,” Cole finally said. “Let’s just go without it. You’re driving anyhow. What do I need it for?”