“I do, but I can’t talk about that right now.”
Wyatt pressed his lips together in frustration, forcing himself to release the constricted breath in his chest. What the hell would it take for John to break and finally pursue what he wanted? To chase the horse,him, who had been running after him this entire time. Wyatt thought back to the first night he seduced him and how much he didn’t need John to chase him, that he was happy to gallopafter him, tail fucking wagging. Now, too much had happened between them, and he needed more.
Because he was tired and angry, needing the storm to come after him.
But John’s entire demeanor was standoffish and unyielding, once more closing him out the way he had done countless times before.
“I interrupted your evening,” Wyatt stepped back, heart sinking. “Your family’s beautiful, John. Olive is a spitfire. You have your hands full with that one.”
John, rooted to the spot, watched him with dark eyes. “You’re leaving.”
He nodded, leaning down to pick up his helmet. “Yeah. Sorry again for interrupting. I’ll… I’ll see ya.”
He made a hasty retreat, too afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stand his ground and would fold the second John swayed close enough to him.
Wyatt headed to the front door, wondering if he was making a mistake. If he was putting too much on John. If this stupid game he was playing was even fucking fair. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t keep backing John into a corner. That wasn’t fair to him, either. John needed to make this decision for himself. And if he truly wanted this to be over, he’d let Wyatt walk out that door and out of his life for good.
He fisted his hand onto his helmet, wanting to crush it when he didn’t hear footsteps following. He reached for the door handle, heart breaking in his chest and hating himself for how hard this was.
John’s hand slammed the door shut and roughly spun him around.
Wyatt saw the fury in his gaze.
The storm had finally broken, and it was a glorious, raging sight.
“That’s it?” John hissed through clenched teeth. “That’s it?”
Caught in the lightning strike of John’s emotion, Wyatt sucked in a breath, forcing himself to hold to his resolve. “I won’t—can’t—keep chasing you, John. I fuckin’ can’t. This horse is tired.”
John exhaled, his breath warming the space between them, strain pulling at the lines around his eyes. “Stay,” he whispered so low Wyatt almost didn’t hear it.
Tonight? Tomorrow? Forever?
He wanted to ask, but instead clamped his jaw down into a tight squeeze.
“Stay.”
That wasn’t enough, and they both knew it. Wyatt reached for the handle again and John moved, pinning him against the door with an arm and pressing his chest against his.
“I don’t know how to do this,” John murmured.
“You do,” Wyatt drawled softly. “You’re just scared.”
John swallowed, eyes briefly closing, fighting himself. “I am,” he admitted. “I’m terrified of the hold you have on me.”
He sucked in a surprised breath.
“I’m terrified that if you walk out this door, I will never fucking recover.”
His heart slammed into his chest.
“It’s the same feeling I had when I saw that knife at your throat,” John rasped. “…when you were losing all that blood…” his hands moved, gripping the front of Wyatt’s jacket, clinging to him. “I know I can’t stop death, but I’m a coward, and I can’t bear to see it and the pain that comes to the people I care about.”
The floodgates of John’s emotion had finally opened. John’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “I couldn’t save my brother. I can’t save my dad from his brain deteriorating. I can’t save my mom from watching the love of her life fade away. And for a moment, I thought I was going to lose the only person in my life that made all of that go away…” John released him, tears sliding down his cheeks. He scrubbed his face. “I don’t know if I can give you what you need, because all I want to do is take from you. I want to take everything you give me.”
Wyatt reached for him, framing his face and raking his fingers through his beard. “Did it ever occur to you that you give me the same thing? It’s supposed to be like this—giving and taking. All you have to do is look at me, and I can feel myself calm or spark. You haven’t taken anything from me that I didn’t want to give. And until recently, I was okay with that. But I need more from you, John. So much fucking more.”
John stared at him, uncertain and vulnerable. “Me too. I need you so much. I never felt like this,Wyatt.”
