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More quiet.
Scott eyed the silver numbers on Tad’s door.
Tad softly cleared his throat. “Just three more days.”
Not quite, shy boy. Try three more seconds.
Scott muted his phone and gave a knock, smirking when he heard it through the earpiece.
“Shit,” Tad muttered. “Hold on a sec. Stupid pizza guys, always getting the wrong address.”
Scott grinned. Couldn’t not. Pissed or not, this shit was fun. “Yup. Take your time.”
The door tugged open.
Tad met his gaze and froze.
Oh, God. Scott stared. His jaw went slack.
Tad’s face… Holy fuck…. Looked like he’d tried to stop a train.
Fury raised its fucking head. Every muscle locked tight. Did he get in a fight? Was he embarrassed because he lost? But why? Had he started it? Scott bristled harder. Swear to God, if Tad pulled a motherfucking Max, Scott was going to friggin’ rail on his ass.
“What happened,” he ground out. “To your fucking face?”
“Scott… I… Shit…” Tad stammered.
Scott clenched his teeth. “Tell me.”
Tad swallowed. Shoved his phone in his pocket. Steeled his expression. “I… got jumped.”
Scott’s heart stopped. Even his brain braked.
Tad got jumped?
Tad got jumped?!
Arctic ice doused his veins. Then rage threw his head into a tailspin. Jesus, he was suddenly reeling so hard, he couldn’t fucking decide how to react. Should he be having a freaking meltdown? Going full-blown postal? Bellowing fearsome promises of retribution?
“Scott… I’m sorry… I know I should’ve told you…” Tad’s expression crumpled. Then his everything wilted. “I just felt so fucking pathetic… I didn’t want you to see…”
Scott’s violent tempest screeched to a grinding halt. The tone in Tad’s voice, the anguish in his eyes.
Oh, God… His shy boy...
Raw emotion welled fast.
“Tad,” Scott rasped. He shook his head. “Fuck.” Then he yanked Tad into his arms and hugged him gently. Gently, when he’d rather be crushing him close. Jesus, how he wished he could somehow turn back time. “You’re good? You’re okay?” He pressed his lips to Tad’s head.
Tad buried his face in Scott’s neck. “I am now.”
THIRTY-THREE
“So… You’re not mad… That I’m here…. In your room?”
Sean blinked in confusion. And total surprise.
Max watched him, still looking exceptionally drowsy. “No,” he murmured. “I’m glad.”
Sean frowned. Eyed him oddly. “You… You are?”
Something wasn’t right. This didn’t make any sense.
Max’s smile curved higher. His grip tightened around Sean’s wrist. “Yes… I am…” He set down his bottle and pulled Sean closer. “No one else on Earth I’d rather it be.”
Oh, God…
Sean’s heart pounded. His gaze dropped to Max’s mouth. To that tiny silver hoop against his lip. Kiss him. Sean needed to kiss him so bad.
No. Max was wasted. If he was sober he’d be pissed. Would be punting Sean out the door, not trying to hold him.
Sean’s insides groused miserably as he resisted Max’s pull. He needed to stay upright. And in control. His defenses against Max were weak at best. They’d snap at the slightest bit of pressure.
Max’s tipsy grin turned amused. His hooded gaze glittered. “Come here, cat,” he mumbled, using more strength to draw Sean near.
Shit. Sean didn’t want to hold back anymore. Wanted to freefall into the haven of Max’s arms.
Fighting back a whimper, he shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Mmm…Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t. You’ve been drinking.”
“Pfft… Who cares…”
Clearly, not Max.
Sean groaned, still struggling to stay vertical as Max pulled. “If you were cognizant, you wouldn’t want this.”
“If I were cognizant, you wouldn’t be here.”
Huh? Yes, he would. He’d just be out on the stoop.
“Max…” Sean was caving. He could feel it. “Please stop.”
Max paused and regarded him, his expression strangely out of it. “Is that what you want?”
Hell fucking no! He wanted the down-and-dirty opposite!
Sean’s brows pinched up. “Not really, but fuck. You’re barely coherent. I can’t just—”
“Sean,” Max laughed softly. “I’m not coherent at all, which is the one and only reason you’re even here.”
Sean did another huh? He glanced at the water bottle. The one he’d set on the nightstand beside Max’s dock. The dock presently filling the room with “Talk Me Down” while Max mumbled out his nonsensicals. What, had he spotted the water Sean brought him? Assumed Sean only came up to bring him a drink because he was drunk? Ugh. What did it matter? Sean was starting to get exasperated. Resisting the one man he wanted desperately was making him mental.
He tried to pull his wrist away.
Max frowned and held on. “Please… Just let me hold you… Until it’s time for you to go.”
Sean’s heart thump-bumped. Max had just said please. And suddenly sounded a little bit sad.
“Just hold me? That’s it?” Sean could manage a hug.
Max nodded, lips curving, and the next thing Sean knew, he was wrapped up tight inside of Max’s arms.
Max sighed against his ear. “Fuck, you feel nice.”
Sean closed his eyes and smiled. “So do you.”
Although, nice was an understatement. More like heavenly. Sublime.
Max caged Sean closer and pressed his mouth against Sean’s hair. “I didn’t wanna give you to Kai,” he mumbled. “Wanted to keep you for myself.”
