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Time to stop standing here like a poleaxed bull. Luke was the captain, at least for now. Time to act like it. “Right,” he said, raising his voice so everybody could hear it. “That’s enough for tonight. Break it up. Go to bed, and I’ll see you on the bus.”
He tried not to hold his breath, waiting to see if they’d do it.
They did. All but Henry, who waited until they were gone, then asked Luke, “All right?”
“Yeh,” Luke said. “Thanks.” He tried to think what else to say, and couldn’t.
Henry nodded. “When are you telling Coach?”
“At the airport, I reckon,” Luke said. “When I can have a quiet word. And if that’s it, if it’s over …” He put out a hand and tried to keep the emotion from showing. It had never been harder. “It’s been an honor.”
Henry took it and gripped hard. “Nah, mate,” he said. “The honor’s mine.”
Hayden said, when Luke had stalked in his absolutely upright way to his room, betraying nothing, “And I thought it was hard for me to come out.”
He was feeling a little shaken, honestly. That had been intense.
Luke let the door shut behind them and said, “We could talk about that. We could talk about you flying here and why you did it. Or I could kiss you.”
Hayden said, “Uh, well, uh … let’s do that.” Heart pounding, breath catching. It was the look on Luke’s face.
Luke stepped into him and did it.
It wasn’t their first time, but that was how it felt. Lips and tongues and breath coming hard. Clumsy hands unfastening buttons, and shirts pulled up by eager hands. Luke’s jacket dropping to the floor, Hayden’s shirt, and still, Luke kissing him, his mouth avid and hard.
Hayden could hardly stand up.
He was naked, then, and Luke was still wearing his trousers. His trousers, and Hayden’s scarf. Hayden said, as best he could with Luke’s hands on his chest, his back, his sides, Luke’s mouth at his neck, “You wore the … scarf.”
Luke stopped kissing his neck, stepped back, and looked at him, and Hayden forgot to breathe. Then Luke took the scarf off, put it over Hayden’s head, and pulled him in by it.
Bloody hell.
He’d never been touched with so much possessiveness. He’d never lain on a big white bed, had a man’s mouth all over him, and been flooded by so much desire, all he could do was put his hands up over his head and surrender to it.
Heat. Passion. Desire. He couldn’t … he couldn’t …
He was making too much noise. He knew it, and he couldn’t stop himself. When it got to be more than he could bear, he stuffed his fist into his mouth and bit down on it to try to quiet himself.
Luke stopped. His hand at the back of Hayden’s neck, gentle now. “All right?” he asked, not sounding like himself, either. Sounding gruff, nearly strangled, and Hayden realized, somewhere in the dim recesses of his mind, that this meant as much to Luke as it did to him.
“Y-yeh,” he managed to say. “Just … I love you.” He was crying a little now. He couldn’t help it. The emotion … it was too much. “And I’m … being loud.”
Luke wasn’t just touching the back of his neck now. He was kissing it, his hand stroking down Hayden’s arm. “Nah,” he said. “Not too loud. Want me to slow down?”
“No,” Hayden said. “No. Please. Please.”
“All right,” Luke said. “Then hang on.”
Hayden did.
It took Luke a surprisingly long time to get his heart rate back to normal. That was love, maybe, because it bloody well wasn’t fitness. When Hayden was in his arms and they were lying, spent, amidst twisted sheets, he managed to say, “I have to be on the bus in about three hours.” And laughed, because that was how this felt.
He’d never been giddy in his life, but he was giddy now. The black moth that had held him down for so long loosed its clutching claws, flapped its leathery wings, hissed one last time in his ear, and vanished. Right or wrong, whatever happened next, he was free.
He was here. He was himself. And he was free.
He said, “I love you. It’s not enough to say, and I’m not good with words anyway. But I love you. I didn’t know if you …” He stopped, then forced himself to go on. “I felt like a coward. I didn’t know if you’d want a coward.”
