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“I’d have figured you for quick and dirty,” Colin began.
“Oh, I can be,” Evan assured him. “And we’ll get there, I promise.”
“You’re setting some high expectations.”
“I know.”
“You better be able to live up to them.”
Evan grinned up at his ceiling. “Are you threatening me, Colin?”
“Hell, yes,” Colin said bluntly.
Evan let the laugh loose. He wanted so badly to sayI love you, the words on the tip of his tongue. But it felt wrong to say it for the first time over the phone, so he bit them back. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Colin sighed. “Well, if you’re not coming over, I might as well get some sleep.”
“Me, too.” Evan laid a hand on the phone, reaching for connection. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Night, Col. Sweet dreams.”
“You, too.” There was a pause, and Evan could’ve sworn the words I love you hovered in it. Then Colin said, “Good night,” and the line went dead.
Evan picked up his phone and put it on the charger. He’d say it soon, he promised himself and turned out the light. He’d say it, and hear it said back.
Soon.
7
Despite a case of blue balls that he was sure could be seen from orbit, Colin made it to Friday fairly unscathed. He’d spoken to Evan each night, the sound of his voice both a comfort and a torment. They talked about work and family, sharing the petty annoyances of both, and by unspoken agreement shied away from the kind of sexy talk that made the wait worse.
Colin was grateful and disappointed, a state he was becoming very familiar with.
By the time Friday rolled around, he had himself convinced that he was calm and in control. He’d tidied the house the night before, using the busy work to soak up some of the seemingly endless hours of waiting, and changed the sheets on the bed after he’d gotten up that morning. He’d asked Evan what he was making for dinner, wanting to provide a bottle of wine from his small collection to complement the meal. But Evan was still keeping the menu to himself, so Colin pulled a bottle of red and a bottle of white to cover all the possibilities.
His last meeting of the day ended at one, and he'd thought to soak up some of his afternoon making something for dessert. But Evan had that covered, too, so after he logged off, he gave the house a brief once over, set the table with his grandmother’s dishes, and laid a fire in the fireplace so all he'd have to do was strike a match.
Then, with nothing left to do but wait, he sat on the couch and tried to find a movie he wouldn’t have to pay attention to.
Across townin Spence’s living room, Evan fumbled with the hank of brightly colored rope in his hands, wrapping it around the leg of a chair turned upside down over a battered coffee table and cinching it tight. “Is that right?”
Next to him on the leather sectional that took up most of the space in his small apartment, Spence snorted. “If you want to cut off his circulation and cause nerve damage, sure.”
Evan scowled at the rope. “Maybe I should just get some Velcro cuffs.”
“Don’t blaspheme,” Spence said mildly and reached out to undo the tangled mass of hemp. “Give me your wrist, I’ll show you again.”
Evan laid his wrist in Spence’s hand. “I know how to tie rope,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed that he was having this much trouble with a simple bit of bondage.
“You know how to tie rope for camping, or climbing,” Spence corrected. “Don’t have to worry about nerves or blood supply with those. Now, pay attention.”
Evan complied, tracking Spence’s movements with narrowed eyes, committing the steps to memory. “Okay, I think I got it. Let me try again.”
Spence unwound the rope and handed it over, watching with eagle eyes as Evan repeated the steps, slowly and carefully, on the chair leg.
When he finished, he sat back and bit his lip. “How’s that?”
