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“Not really. Only with video games.”
“So that was Summer, huh?”
Trent smiled down at Wood, and before he knew it, he’d driven his fingers into the soft, silvery strands of hair, unable to resist the touch any longer.
Wood rolled onto his back and gazed up at him through red eyes. “I like it when you do that.”
“It’s nice when you don’t have a ton of gel in it.”
Wood’s throaty laugh was music to his ears. “I don’t use gel. It’s styling mousse.”
“Oh, I see. Us regular guys use a two-in-one shampoo and hope the hair looks all right when it air-dries.”
“Yeah.” Wood sighed tiredly. “Your hair is perfect.”
Trent bit his bottom lip. Somehow the tone had shifted from casual to intimate. He stroked Wood’s head, tenderly scratching at his scalp as they both dozed on and off. Every now and then he’d catch Wood watching him through dreamy eyes, and a slow smile would spread across his face before he drifted again.
Next time Trent woke, it was still pitch-dark outside and the television had timed off. Three hours had passed, and Trent was still reclined as much as he could on the couch with Wood resting peacefully against his stomach. He didn’t want to move. He wouldn’t mind staying in that position all night, but he needed to take another muscle relaxer. Trent lay there for a moment staring up at the ceiling and idly stroking Wood’s sexy hair. He felt sorry for the men that worked so hard with hair dyes and expensive products to achieve a look that Wood wore effortlessly. Trent was getting solid again and unconsciously lifted his hips in search of more pressure.
“Is your back hurting?” Wood asked in the hottest sleep-laden voice he’d ever heard.
Trent hissed through clenched teeth when Wood shifted against him, nuzzling his face into his abs. Of course, Wood was a light sleeper. “No, it’s not my back that’s hurting,” Trent confessed. He found it was easier to be brazen in the dark.
Trent slowly opened his eyes when Wood’s firm hand glided over his chest. He stopped just at the base of his throat, and Trent swallowed the massive ball of nerves lodged there.
“What aches, Trent?” Wood asked. “Tell me.”
Oh god. Trent was embarrassed at how fast he was breathing, knowing Wood could hear his pounding heartbeat from where he was lying on his chest. He had physical urges that bordered on torturous agony. But he knew this wasn’t the time for him to be selfish and tell Wood that he wanted him to make all the loneliness and emptiness he felt inside disappear. How could he explain to Wood that his pride hurt the most when he’d so casually said he was leaving Trent behind?
“What is it?” Wood asked, sounding more concerned.
Trent looked down and caressed Wood’s cheek. He stared longingly for a moment, wanting something to call his own. “Nothing.”
“Don’t do that. I can already see it’s not nothing, but I was hoping you’d just go ahead and tell me,” Wood rumbled.
Trent forced himself to take a deep breath.
“You don’t trust me anymore… you were getting there… but I blew it,” Wood said softly.
Trent immediately began to shake his head. Everyone was entitled to one fuckup, and according to him, Wood was no different. Like he said, he was just a man. “No. Not at all.”
“Be honest,” Wood demanded.
“I am. It’s the opposite of that actually.” Trent leaned forward as Wood’s hot breath fanned over his throat. “Now, I can see who you are, Herschel Wood Jr. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”
Wood cradled the back of his neck, drawing him closer. “And?”
Trent was only inches away now. “And… I like it. I like you.”
“I like you too. But… there’s something else,” Wood prompted.
“But… People disappear on me as soon as I get used to ’em. I um… I’m just not sure how comfortable I should get with you Wood,” Trent said openly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Wood said, and Trent really wanted to believe that.
“That’s not what you said the other night.”
“I’m sure I said a lot, Trent, and I’m kind of glad I don’t remember everything. But really all I should be saying now is thank you.” Wood pulled Trent down until their noses brushed together. “And forgive me.”
Trent sighed, feeling ten times better with just those few simple words that were so important for him to hear. “Forgive me too,” Trent whispered. “Forgive me for not answering.”
“Trent,” Wood said huskily, parting his mouth.
Trent kept his eyes open until Wood’s lips met his own. The initial contact was a shock, like a charge of electricity that shot straight to his head. Wood’s hand tightened on his neck, and the pressure increased to the point that Trent couldn’t hold in his moan a second longer. Wood’s warm tongue flicked the corner of his mouth, causing him to gasp and turn toward it. He propped his foot on the coffee table so he didn’t have to bend over so far and brought Wood up to him.
