Page 72 of Steady Stroke
The innocence in the question made Lincoln reach out and ruffle his messy hair. “We aren’t all wired the same, that’s all. Besides, sex is about feeling good together. Creating something amazing. Getting off. If you aren’t enjoying it, there’s no point.”
“Stop.”
“Get off.”
All of the sound got sucked out of the room on a whoosh, leaving dead silence ringing in Lincoln’s ears. Phantom pain struck his skull, tiny hammers banging hard behind his eyes. He heard his name, far away. A friendly voice come to take care of him. And suddenly the pain wasn’t phantom; it was real. Only it wasn’t in his head, but in his aching hands. He’d made fists, and his fingernails were digging into his palms.
Clarity struck him all at once. Emmett holding him, soothing him, naked body pressed close. Murmuring supportivethings. Lincoln forced his fingers apart and stroked the hand covering his heart.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know,” Emmett said. “You just . . . froze up. Got kind of gray. I thought you were going to pass out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened? Do you know?”
“No.” Lincoln twisted around so he could hug Emmett properly, arms around his waist, chest-to-chest. Chin on his shoulder. “I don’t know what that was.” He did know he hated that he’d been so weak in front of Emmett. That he’d let the bogeyman out again, even for a moment.
One moment was all it would take to fuck everything up.
Emmett kissed him gently on the mouth. “Come on. Let’s take a shower, and then get something to eat. Maybe you’ll feel better.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Lincoln checked his phone first.
Voice mail from Dominic sent a few hours ago.“Hey, you, guess you didn’t make it home last night. I hope everything worked out okay for your friend Melody. I’m glad you had Emmett there to take care of you. I wish you’d talk to me about what’s eating you, because I’ve known you long enough to see something clearly is. If you won’t talk to me, at least talk to Emmett. Please. Love ya. Shout at me later.”
He deleted the message, then joined his boyfriend in the already hot shower with absolutely zero intention of talking about anything. Or thinking about it. All he wanted to do for a while was exist, and enjoy the good things in his life.
Because life had a bad habit of stealing his good things away.
SIXTEEN
The followingweekend was Father’s Day and, with a lot of wheedling, Lincoln convinced Emmett to drive north with him and Roxy to the Bounds house. Lincoln was crazy proud to introduce Emmett to Robert and Zelda Bounds, two people he’d thought of as parents ever since his own kicked him violently out of their lives. They’d always treated him like one of their own mismatched kids, and they were going to love Emmett.
Roxy had a late shift Saturday night, so they all got up super early Sunday for the two and a half hour drive to the suburbs of Philadelphia. Their trio sang along to song after song from Roxy’s phone, laughing and joking, but Emmett grew tenser the closer they got to their destination.
He was rigid as a board when Roxy finally turned into that familiar driveway in front of the big white house. Starr was waiting for them on the front porch in her blue rocking chair, and the sixteen-year-old stood the instant the car engine cut off. She was blond-haired and blue-eyed like Lincoln, and herleft hand flapped lightly in the air, a motion that increased when Emmett climbed out of the backseat.
“Hey, you!” Roxy raced over, purse clutched in one hand, and opened her arms. Starr stared at Emmett another moment, then hugged her sister.
Lincoln had already explained Starr’s habits from her autism. He grabbed the greeting card off the dashboard, tucked Emmett’s hand in his, and led him toward the front porch. They reached it just as the front door swung open. Zelda came out with a dish towel in one hand and a smudge of flour on her chin. She hugged Roxy first, because she was closest.
When those strong, loving arms wrapped around Lincoln, he relaxed fully for the first time in a while. It was the kind of supporting hug that only a mother could give, and he maybe clung a little too tightly. She pulled back, her dark eyes curious, but she didn’t ask. She turned her attention over to his boyfriend.
“Land sakes, but you caught yourself a cute one,” she said. “Zelda Bounds.”
Emmett blushed. “Um, thank you. Emmett Westmore. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“You don’t have to ma’am me, son. Call me Zelda, or call me Mom. I answer to both.” She hugged him, too, and some of his tension eased. Lincoln saw it in the line of his shoulders and the set of his jaw. “You all come inside out of this heat. I’m finishing up Robert’s cake, and once it’s in the oven we can get to visiting.”
“Where’s Dad?” Roxy asked.
“I let him sleep in, so he’s just gotten up. Probably in the shower by now.”
Lincoln helped Starr carry her rocking chair back into the living room. She instantly sat down in it and angled the chair toface the television. He didn’t have to ask. He grabbed the remote and put on GSN. Starr was obsessed with game shows.
