Page 112 of Give Me What You Will

He kissed his palm, feeling how warm and strong it was against the softness of his lips. “I think I knew right then that I may have fallen in love with you.”

Frankie stilled.

“But I wasn’t ready for that. I had to learn to trust first. And you touched me all the fucking time. It was like coming up for air after years of drowning in a tiny box. I think that’s why it took me so long to admit my feelings for you to myself. I was just so scared of losing you.”

“What made you finally kiss me?” Frankie asked curiously. “I mean, if I had had a boner for you for years, I would’ve lost my damned mind.”

“Something to thank my crazy mother for then. A high tolerance for denial and suffering.”

He shook his head, “And don’t forget Papi.”

“True. Suffering in silence and grief was certainly modeled for me on what normal was.”

“Normal,” Frankie snorted bitterly. “What the fuck is normal these days? I thought my blinding loyalty to my asshole father was normal—expected even. That he’d take care of me in the end. Except he didn’t give a rat's ass about me. He never did. He left me with a run-down bar, and debt the size of Mount fuckin’ Everest.”

“Debt?”

Frankie scrubbed a weary hand over his face. “His love for cards got a little loose towards the end. Made a few bad bets with the wrong fuckin’ person. Stuck me with the bill when he retired and moved into the home. Runnin’ away was what that fucker did. Said I could handle it.” He cursed. “Sure, I can handle Kozlov.”

“Kozlov? From the Zakone gang?” His heart dropped into his stomach. “Frank, please tell me this debt is gone?”

Sam had heard about the Russian gang that was slowly infiltrating Boston and the surrounding cities. Running gambling halls, brothels, sex workers, drugs, and guns. Taking over former Italian turf. He had heard stories about a few members of the Zakone gang, and Thaddeus Kozlov was one of them. They said he could dismember a body in less than an hour, down to the victim's teeth. Which, from Sam’s knowledge of anatomy, was no small feat. Last he heard, Kozlov was the cleaner, not the fixer. So, he must have ranked up in the gang to be taking on debts.

“It is. I paid them off two weeks ago. After seeing you, knowing you were comin’ here to celebrate your birthday, I couldn’t have that shit hangin’ over me anymore. I needed a fresh start, and you were my reason.”

Sam kissed his knuckles, relieved. “Were they the ones you sold the cars to?”

He nodded, “Lucky for me, Kozlov likes vintage cars.”

Real lucky.

“But you don’t gotta worry about that. It’s over.”

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve helped.”

Frankie’s smile was soft and tender. “I know, baby. But I didn’t want you to have to do anything for my father.”

He didn’t have to say why he didn’t want him to help his father. Lou Casavani made it clear from day one that he didn’t like his son being friends with someone like him.

Sam shook his head, “Everything I’ve ever done has always been for you, Frank. You know that. I worked that bar through med school just to be around you—not for your dad. For someone who likes to take care of everyone, you gotta let those people show up for you, too. I would’ve paid the debt off in a heartbeat had you told me. I want to take care of you. Always, if you’d let me.”

Frankie studied him, swallowing. “Come here, baby.”

He sighed, resting his head on his shoulder, fingers sinking into his warm furry chest. He hadn’t realized how much he would enjoy a man with a little extra fur, with the soothing feeling of Frankie’s fingers tracing slowly up and down his side.

“This is real, right?” he heard himself ask, hoping to hell that this wasn’t a dream.

“What is?”

“You and me.”

“Yeah, baby. And I think the word you're looking for is ‘soulmates’.”

Chapter 20

He couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Sam was talking with Tony and Brendon at the booth in the far corner, while the others sat at the bar. Frankie had closed the bar for the evening, putting a sandwich-board sign out front to fend off customers. The place was all theirs for one last time, and it felt good doing it on Sam’s birthday. And that would be his last birthday surprise. Once the party was over and they were back in bed, where they should be, he would tell Sam that he had sold the bar. That he was done with Boston. That he had gotten a job as one of Caz’s trainers in LA and everything was in place for him to move as soon as next week.