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“Well, yes?” I reply as more of a question.
“How long has this been going on?” Cowboy pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tight.
“About six-ish months, I think. It feels longer. I wanted to make sure this was something before talking about it with you guys. Plus, I know this is going to change how you guys look at me.” I feel this pit of guilt growing in my gut.
“I’m not thinking about you differently in any way. But, I think that there is something wrong in that apartment that makes all of its occupants attracted to cops.” Storm starts giggling.
“You are always going to be Knuckles to us. It doesn’t matter who you love. While yes, this kinda does come out of nowhere, we will never shame you for being true to you.” Cowboy lets out a big sigh. “You are the only brother I can ask this. You confirmed that he is just a low-end cop and does not want to climb up the ladder?”
“No, well, he does, but not here. He told me about the things he saw them do to Copper, and he was upset about it. I know it’s hard, but there are more guys there, like my man and Copper than like Connard. Most are just trying to keep their jobs and support their families.”
“What do you think, Prez?” Storm slings his arm around Cowboy.
“I think I learned my lesson the last time this arose. Congrats brother. When things cool down, buy him a ring. I am sure the ladies will welcome him with open arms.” Cowboy smiled and put out his hand.
I took it, and he pulled me in for a hug. Storm then wraps me up in a real hug, not a bro hug. But Judge, he gave me that paternal expression, a smile that radiated something I have only ever seen when he looked at his kids. He pulled me in close for a true father-like embrace.
“I am proud of you, Sandy. Proud of you for being who you truly are.” He whispers to me. I try to squeeze down all my repressed emotions that tried to bubble up to the surface.
“Alright, enough of this. I have let the lunatics run the asylum enough. Time to get Church started.” Cowboy claps his hands.
I feel a hundred pounds lighter now that I have put my truth out there. I guess I really didn’t have much to worry about. I feel like I can do anything now.
“Are you okay?” Whitley asks as he rubs his thumbs against my cheeks. I lean into his touch and can’t picture my life with anyone else besides him. Everything opened up for me the moment I allowed myself to love him. And if I’m honest with myself, everything changed the second I saw him. There was never going to be an outcome that didn’t include him in my life. I know that now, and I accept it with everything I am.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his palm. “I spoke to the club today about you. Well, I didn’t say who you are. I would never do that to you. But I did tell them that I’m in love with a man, who happens to be a cop, and that I will never give you up.”
He looks shocked, but it only lasts a minute before his body relaxes, and his mouth connects with mine. His hands come up to my hair and grip the strands, making me release a moan. My hands come around his back and up to clasp his shoulders. I want to hold him as close as I can.
“I love you, Sandy,” he whispers between kisses.
“I’ll never get tired of you saying that to me, Whitley. I love you so much.”
He starts to push me back to his room, and I willingly go. I wanted to show him something first, but I think that his finding out as he undresses me is a much better plan. Once in the room, I sit on the bed and watch as he grips his shirt from behind his head and pulls it off. A motion that I do every day, and I never understood why women loved it until I saw the love of my life do it. Without realizing it, a growl slips past my lips. His eyebrow arches and I lean back on my arms and spread my legs for him. Silently telling him to come to me.
He drops between my legs, and his hands go to my stomach, pushing my shirt up. He runs his blunt nails up my chest and nicks the corner of the new tattoo I got. I hiss, and he immediately stops. Not the way I wanted him to find out, but hey, take what you can get, right?
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. I can’t bring myself to tell him. Now that we’re here, I went from excited to terrified in the blink of an eye. What if he hates it? What if my feelings for him aren’t what his are, and he hates it? Fuck! What if he hates it?Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
I shake my head again and take a deep breath.
“Sandy,” his tone is sharp.
“N-nothing’s wrong. Take it off, please.”
I can tell he wants to argue with me, but he does what I ask. Once my shirt is off, he really looks at my chest, and when his breath catches, and his eyes widen, I know he sees it. I know he’s read it.
“You said that you would never tattoo the left side of your body. That nothing would ever cover your heart. That nothing in this world meant enough.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“But,” he looks up at me, and that’s when I see the tears streaming down his face. “But, this is over your heart.”
I grab his hand, bringing it to my lips. “It was the only spot that was right.”
“You tattooed my name in binary code over your heart,” he sobs.
