Page 61 of Carver’s Craving

I nodded.

“You’re welcome to it, Styx. In fact, I’d appreciate if you sorted it. It’s beyond me. In all the ways. But…if there’s something in there worth salvaging? I’d be grateful if you’d do it. I trust you.”

Whether he should or not was up for debate. But I’d take that trust and keep it close to my heart.

Because I care so much for him. I never planned this…but this is way more than attraction. Which meant I needed to put Charles out of my mind forever and focus on the man before me. That’s easy. Focus on Carver. Don’t think about sex. I nearly laughed out loud. Carver was everything I could ask for in a partner—and everything I knew I could never have.

“I promise to take care of it. I think I need to scan some of it to get it on the computer—so I don’t mess it up.”

“Sure. I have a scanner and I can show you how to use it. What do you mean don’t mess it up?”

“Uh.” What’s the right amount of honesty? “I just, you know, struggle with, you know, words.”

Carver stared. “Like dyslexic or something?”

“Like exactly that. I made it through high school, but that was a nightmare. Still, I thought I could get through university by studying music. Well…my parents wouldn’t support me because of my dumb major—” I used air quotes. “—and I didn’t have the money to do that and the band. Plus, music theory was harder than I thought. In the end, I just gave up.”

“Wow.” He frowned. “That is wrong in just so many ways. Would you go back? If you had the money?”

I shook my head. “I was trying to prove I wasn’t a loser.”

Carver scowled. And opened his mouth.

I held up my hand—hoping to prevent whatever he’d been about to say. I shook my head. “I’ve found other ways to validate myself. For a while, I had a band that was growing in success. I lost that, but I did just get all the way through that book of Mission City history. I think—” I swallowed. “—that if I can do something with your mother’s writings then that’ll make me, I don’t know, less of a waste of space.” I swallowed again. And blinked.

To my surprise, Carver pushed up from the table. He crouched by my side and took both my hands. “Look at me.”

How was I supposed to refuse him?

“You never have been, are not now, and never will be, a waste of space. I want to kill your parents—and I don’t say shit like that often. Everyone deserves love. I mean some people abuse that—like people who hurt other people—but…they should love you. Without conditions. Even when my mom was at her worst, she still loved me. She apologized in her note for killing herself, and told me how much I meant to her. Would I do everything in my power to bring her back if that was possible? Of course. I can’t. But I can love people the way she loved me. So they always know someone cares.”

He wasn’t saying he loved me—just that I deserved the love my parents never gave me. His words cut deep. I squeezed his hands even as I blinked again. “Anyone in your orbit is damn lucky.”

This time, he blinked. “I try, Styx. I really do. To be thankful and appreciative and to show respect. I love in my own way…my boss, some of my coworkers. And maybe that’s more, like I said, respect. But I know my life would be poorer without them in it. Just like I’d really miss you if you left.” He held my gaze.

I believed him. “So, uh, what now?”

He shrugged. “I guess I spend whatever time we have proving to you that you’re worthy. And that I appreciate you. Not just for the meals and the dog walks—although God knows, those are amazing. But also that you see something in Mom’s work. Even if nothing can be salvaged…I’ll feel like someone tried. To do something I’m not capable of.”

I pulled one of my hands free and caressed his cheek.

His eyes widened. Then, slowly, he smiled.

After a moment, I leaned forward. I only meant to press our foreheads together. Clearly I didn’t telegraph that properly, because he pushed up and pressed his lips to mine. Holy fuck. I’m kissing Carver. Something I’d wanted to do for years, but had never dreamed possible. I grasped the back of his neck to pull him closer.

He angled his head and opened his mouth.

I replicated his actions and was rewarded when he slid in tongue into my mouth.

Joy exploded in my chest and suddenly visions of taking him to bed danced in my mind.

Then, all of a sudden, a realization hit.

I pulled back, breaking the connection. Then I placed my fingers on my tingling lips. “You’re Charles.”

Chapter Seventeen

Carver