Page 78 of Carver’s Craving

With Herculean effort, I raised my arms so I could cup his cheeks.

He collapsed onto me.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. After a long moment, I realized the wetness on my chest wasn’t his sweat—it was his tears. I wanted to demand to know why he was crying. For Frank? For his mother? For something I couldn’t fathom? Or just because he was so overwhelmed with what we’d just shared. I could say, hands down, that’d been the most intense orgasm of my life—far eclipsing last Friday—which had been pretty spectacular.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” A soft whisper.

Get over yourself. Be here for him. “I’d like to know why. I mean, I hope it’s not my performance—” Trying for levity.

His laugh was a little forced—so it didn’t reassure me.

Again, he cleared his throat. “Overwhelmed. Just…it’s all hit me at once, you know?”

“I want to say I want to say yes, but I don’t know what it is.” Honesty is the best policy…right?

“Ah.” Slowly, he eased back. He rested his chin on my sternum and our gazes met. “The losses. Mom, Frank, my future as I’d seen it.”

“Oh.” Wow. Sex with me made you think of that? I must’ve really missed the mark.

“Shit.” Carver winced. “That didn’t come out right.”

“Oh?” With just a touch of hopefulness.

“Yes. See—” He swallowed. “Here I ask myself how much honesty is too much.” Then, before I could respond, he took a breath and carried on. “I asked you to stay through Christmas. And, like, maybe the new year. But I wasn’t completely honest.”

Shit.

“See, I don’t want you to go. Which is like…fucking insane.”

“Don’t want me to go…” My words trailed off. Because no way was he saying what I thought he was saying. I was only hearing what I wanted to hear. This time, I cleared my throat. “I don’t—”

“Stay. Like into next year. And after that. Stay as long as you want. I know it’s only been a week. But it’s also been a bunch of years of yearning. And that means something to me. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship. Hell, Poppin and Walter are the closest thing to commitment I’ve ever made—”

“They’re a big commitment.”

“—but I want to make a promise to you. That I’ll always take care of you. And let you take care of me. And be by your side as you rebuild your music career. Because I believe in you. You’re one of the most talented musicians in this country, and the industry is poorer for you not being in it. Baxter will come back.” He bit his lip. “I think. I mean, I hope. But even if he doesn’t, I think you should go for your dream. You can do solo with just your acoustic. Or call Jim, find a new keyboard player, maybe add someone on bass, and go for it.”

I blinked.

“There’s a band in Vancouver. Grindstone. Have you heard of them?” Again, Carver didn’t give me a chance to answer before he plowed on. “And like, they had tragedy in their past. But they kept going. They’re really big. Like contracts, and stadiums, and all that other stuff that you’re good enough to have. You just need someone to believe in you again. Well, I believe in you. I’ll stand by you. I can support you as you get back on your feet. You won’t have to do telemarketing again. You can compose. You can audition bandmates. You can—”

I pressed my index finger to his lips.

He stopped talking.

“Do I get my say?” I held his gaze as he nodded. “Right. So here’s where I either ask for more time, carefully extricate myself, or say hell, yes.”

Again, he nodded.

“This is an easy one, Carver. My answer’s yes. For a whole pile of reasons. Are you one of the best men I’ve ever known? Yes. Am I in awe of the fact you started over and have been successful? You bet. Do I want to be part of your family? You and Poppin and Walter? Of course. I’d be a fool to turn that down. Now…am I worried you’re in a post-sex euphoria? Yes, to that as well.”

“It’s not—”

I pressed my finger to his lips again. “I know. I mean, I have to trust you. Which is pretty fucking easy. You didn’t have to say my name on the street. You didn’t have to offer me sanctuary. And you certainly didn’t just have to ask me to stay, like, forever. I was quite happy to stay until you get tired of me.” Duh. “And you might still grow weary of all this perfection.” I winked.

He laughed. “Never. I just…I’ve never felt this way. And if this is love, then count me all in.”

That took me a moment to absorb. “Love?”