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Right now, the room was awash in light, and knowing that was likely going to make things difficult for Bailey to sleep, Henri said, “Sorry I don’t have the kind of curtains that’ll give you a really good sleep. But the bed’s comfortable.”
Bailey pivoted, and when his eyes found Henri’s, something in them made Henri’s pulse skip. Those baby blues were swimming with emotions that Henri wanted to dive inside of and never leave. Bailey reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, and Henri found it difficult to swallow.
Bailey tossed it over the end of the bed and reached out a hand. Henri took it. As their fingers interlaced, Bailey took the final step needed so they were toe to toe. “Are you going to stay?”
Wild horses couldn’t have dragged Henri away then, but just in case that wasn’t clear, he brought Bailey’s hand up to his mouth and kissed his palm. “Yes.”
“Then I’m going to sleep better than I would if I was anywhere else.”
Henri didn’t know what to say to that. So, he let Bailey go and drew his own shirt off, and almost swallowed his tongue when Bailey removed his jeans.
“Is this okay?” Bailey asked, when he noticed Henri had frozen in place. “I can put them back on—”
“Bailey. It’s more than okay. I’m just trying to remind myself to behave, that’s all.”
That shy smile of Bailey’s, the one that Henri had been worried had fallen victim to the harsh reality of what happened today, emerged, and Henri sent up a quick prayer of thanks that it wasn’t gone for good.
“But just for today, right?”
Henri blinked. “Huh?”
Bailey walked around the side of Henri’s bed in his tight grey boxer briefs. “You’re not always going to behave, are you?”
Henri moved to the opposite side of the bed, and as they pulled the covers back and climbed in, he tugged Bailey into his arms and kissed him. “What do you think?”
Bailey aligned his body to Henri’s side and took a deep breath in, then he let it out and said, “I think you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.”
Henri looked down at him and arched an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the question.”
“I know. But we both know the other answer. I just wanted to make sure you knew this too.”
Bailey reached up for a kiss, and as he settled back in the crook of Henri’s arm and whispered, “Good night, Henri,” Henri stared up at the light shining in over the bed and wondered just how long the feeling of such contentment could last.
Chapter Eleven
CONFESSION
If I’m going to trust my feelings, I need to know where he stands.
THE FITFUL MOVEMENTS from the legs entwined with Bailey’s woke him a couple hours later. It was subtle at first, a slight jerk here, a kick there, but as the minutes passed, Henri began to twitch consistently, and the arms around Bailey shuddered.
Bailey gently shifted to look up at Henri, wondering if he would wake from whatever dream he’d slipped into. But when he noticed the tight line of Henri’s lips and clenched jaw, Bailey got the impression he was still deep in it.
This wasn’t the first time he’d woken to find Henri amidst a restless sleep. In fact, the only other time he’d caught Henri sleeping he’d had a similar experience, and Bailey couldn’t help but worry.
Bailey raised a hand, about to try to gently shake him awake, when Henri’s head turned away from him and he spat out, “That’s some bullshit, Joel, and you know it.”
Bailey froze his hand where it was hovering just above Henri’s chest, and his stomach twisted around on itself as a rush of uncertainty flooded him.
What does that mean? Bailey thought. He’s dreaming about Priest?
Bailey tried not to read too much into that, especially with how kind and caring Henri had been with him this morning. But no matter how much he told himself it was nothing, Bailey couldn’t stop the niggling doubt in the back of his mind: that no matter how close the two of them got, Henri might always be hung up on—
“I told you to get on your fucking feet.”
Bailey jerked back as that biting order interrupted his thoughts. He could feel the rage rolling off Henri in waves, and it was so potent that Bailey was shocked it didn’t blast him from the bed.
Henri twisted onto his side, and Bailey spotted beads of sweat on his brow and noticed his breathing was now coming in rapid pants. Then, just as Bailey decided enough was enough, Henri opened his mouth and said in a bone-chilling voice, “You’re lying…”
The hair on the back of Bailey’s neck rose at the pain and disbelief in those two words. It was haunting. He reached out and stroked his fingers down Henri’s pale cheek, doing his best to comfort and rouse Henri from whatever hell he was trapped inside.
