Page 81 of Hilarina and the Ogre

“You think I don’t?”

“I said to show me.”

Hilary pushed up with his hips, and the man was hardening, hot beneath the cotton of his pants. “Don’t hate it.” And Hilary sounded desperate. “Please don’t.”

“I could never.”

But maybe Hilary couldn’t hear that. Or maybe he was really asking something else—something that required a different answer. Trenton wasn’t sure. But he thought he knew what to do. He slid one of his arms beneath Hilary’s head, wrapping him up close. “Always giving. Always worrying.” He pushed his thigh between those legs and angled himself to press there, to give him that friction. “How long have you wanted this? Show me. Make me see.”

Hilary tried to turn, to hide himself. It was strange in a man who always moved so comfortably. Trenton pressed him down again, squeezing the one hand he still held. “You’ll hide even when it’s me?” Each syllable he pressed there came with the grazing pressure of a kiss. “Didn’t you bring me here to be yours?”

Hilary made a sound of frustration and pushed at his shoulder. “You don’t—!” But he didn’t finish, biting down on the words. And Trenton felt it there, at the surface again, that thing between them. What Hilary was hiding. He wanted to demand it. To take his beloved by the face and threaten not to let him go until it was out. Instead, he pressed against him again with his leg, and began to move, a steady kind of pressure.

Hilary pushed at him again. “No.”

“Why?”

Hilary wouldn’t say. He was clenching his teeth. Fighting it. And hating the fighting.

“Why? When you love me. When you said I could. I’m here, right in front of you—"

“But you’re not! You’re not here!” Hilary shoved at him, meaning it this time. Actually trying to move him.

Trenton let go, and Hilary had to catch himself on his knee in his hurry to get away. The man paused there for a second, gulping air, and then he was up and out of the room.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Red Wall

He followed Hilary to the kitchen, but this time he stayed back. He watched the man pour himself a cup of water, spilling a little on the counter. But he didn’t drink it. Instead, Hilary sank into a crouch, hands overhead, still gripping the counter.

Trenton had to push. “What do you mean I’m not here?” Maybe it was wrong to do it, but he had to. Once Hilary was stable again, he’d put up the veneer and become the kind protector once more. And with that, Trenton would lose his chance at the truth. “Do you think I’m looking at someone else?”

“No.” Hilary sounded tired again. As if switching to day shift hadn’t changed anything. “I know you don’t have anyone.”

That angered him. The way Hilary said it. Like he’d chosen the man by default because he’d been the only one to reach out a hand. Trenton went to him, almost knocking him down by accident as he tugged him around. “What do I have to do? To prove myself to you. To show I want this as much as you do.”

“As much as me?” And Hilary seemed to be daring him to say it again. “Fifteen years and it’s as much as me?”

The number hit like a train, a wall of weight. Fifteen? No, that would have made them kids.

“That’s impossible.”

Hilary shrugged it off. “That’s right. It’s impossible.”

Trenton tried to grab hold again, and Hilary actually hissed at him, the sound too furious for words. “Do you find it romantic? Coming back to you like this every day. Dates and home-cooked meals. It’s like a wonderland, right? A happily ever after.”

Trenton was in over his head. He had never imagined it might be that long. Fifteen years. He had no arguments to address it. “I know it’s not perfect. I know you get sad.”

“I’m not sad, Trenton, I’m fucking stupid. Chasing a lie.”

Hilary was trying to distract him. To anger him into taking the bait. But he wouldn’t. “If it’s a lie, I want to keep it.”

“You don’t. You never do.”

“If it’s something I did in the past—”

“The past? Who’s talking about the past? You’re going to leave me, Trenton. You’re going to forget and you’re going to leave me again.”