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“Together,” he repeats, as if tasting the word on his tongue. “So, you want to date?”
I hum as I think over his question. “Dating doesn’t sound like the right word. It doesn’t sound likeenough. But if that’s what you want to call it, then yes. I want us to be together, and share our lives like we used to, but different. I want you to still be my best friend, the person I trust most in the world. But I also want to strip you naked and do dirty things to you. I want to take you out, and I want to stay in and watch movies while we binge on pizza.”
“You are talking about being in a public gay relationship?” he asks still appearing like he doesn’t quite believe me, which is valid considering out history.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m in a relationship with the person I love, and should have been with for years. You can call it whatever makes you happy. Everyone else can think whatever they want. I’m not concerned about them anymore, not when I have you.” Everything’s changed so fast, but I’m grateful Jake decided to come over demanding answers. This is what I’ve wanted. We should have been together this whole time, and I’ve acted like such an idiot.
Jake sucks in a shuddering breath. “You love me?”
I grab his hand again and yank hard, forcing him to stumble into me. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I hold him close. “I do, and probably more than you know.”
“I believe you, even though I didn’t expect any of this.” Emotion clogs his throat as he stares up at me. “I love you too.”
I feel my own throat closing tight at the sound of those words I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear. I can’t believe I’d almost lost Jake for the rest of my life. The thought is devastating, so I shut it down. I have better things to look forward to now.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips, murmuring against them, “So about that shower…”
“I can’t believe you guys have showers in your own dorms,” Jake says as he backs away. “Jock royalty.”
I snort as I watch his fine ass stroll to the bathroom. “Well, now you can just think of it as a perk ofdatinga football player. You can use it anytime.”
He stops just inside the doorway. “I can think of several perks of having a strong, muscled boyfriend.”
My cock twitches. “Stop. I’m fucking tired.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “We have years to make up for, Creed Masters. Get your ass in here.”
I have a feeling I won’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. I sigh as I follow him. Honestly, I’d follow him anywhere, and sleep is overrated.
EPILOGUE
JAKE
Two Years Later
The sweet scentof cinnamon rolls and bold smell of dark roast coffee wake me up Christmas morning. I yawn as I attempt to stretch my arms, but I find myself anchored to my childhood bed by a heavy arm. From behind me, Creed mumbles something indecipherable in his sleep that sounds likepina colada with a pink umbrella. Maybe he’s dreaming about some hot summer destination vacation since it’s below freezing outside, and my boyfriend is definitely not cut out for the cold. My lips hook up in a grin. The broody bastard is fucking cute as hell. He’s also mine.Finally.
I glance over my shoulder, scanning over his face as he sleeps. It’s hard to believe after everything that’s happened that we are spending half of the holiday weekend at my parents’ house…as a couple. Tonight we’ll head to Creed’s home to spend time with his family as well. It’s all still very surreal to me, even after the nearly two years we’ve been together.
We’re squeezed tight together on the mattress, mostly because we sleep that way most nights when I stay at his place, or he stays at mine. But we are also forced into the position because the full-sized bed is barely enough space for his big body, let alone both of us.
As early morning sunrays stream through my thin white curtains, I look around my old room. While I’d noticed a few things had changed around the neighborhood over the last few years I’d been gone, my room had remained exactly the same. Pictures from high school were still taped to my mirror, and even my old notebooks were still stacked on a bookshelf. Other than cleaning the room from time to time, my mom and dad hadn’t touched a thing.
My leg begins to cramp, so I need to get out of bed. There’s no reason to wake Creed, so I gently move his arm and free myself from his grasp. Trying not to make a sound, I grab a pair of black sweatpants and slide them over my boxer briefs. I pair them with a red shirt and then sneak out of the room, easing my door closed behind me.
The smells coming from the kitchen grow stronger and the sounds of plates and glasses being moved around reach my ears as I make my way downstairs. I glance around the living room where my mother has decorated as exuberantly as she does every year.
A seven-foot Christmas tree is placed in the corner of the living room, lit up with red and white lights. A matching tree skirt is almost completely covered by wrapped presents that coordinate with the color scheme. Ropes of green garland with twinkling white lights and faux berries line the fireplace mantle and wrap around the staircase handrail. Mom’s Christmas village is set up on a massive wooden display my father had built her when her collection had grown large enough that it could be considered more of a Christmas city. It’s almost impossible not to feel the holiday spirit the moment you step inside their house, and I hope that never changes.
I walk into the kitchen and find my mom sipping a cup of coffee that still has steam rising from the mug.
“I swear you must have a stomach made of steel.” I chuckle and pop a kiss on her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
“Merry Christmas.” She flashes me a wide grin as I open the cupboard and retrieve my own mug. “Where’s Creed?”
“Sleeping like a baby.” I grab the bottle of vanilla creamer from the refrigerator and make my own cup of coffee. “Dad?”
Mischief twinkles in her blue eyes. “Sleeping like an old man.”
