Page 68 of Sin Deep
“Yes. I’ll start right now.” He felt it—how this tension in Harley dissolved, and he hadn’t known it was there.
“Right now. That’s it, petit. It’s what we both need. Too many nights away makes us careless. Makes us worry.”
“And lonely. It was so easy to learn how to sleep with you.”
He nodded. “And lonely. Alone is okay. Lonely is miserable.” And he didn’t need any help with the rent, so eventually he could talk Harley into a different job. Maybe something at the library. Maybe something in the park. Maybe.
“Yes. I want all the nights, lover. I want to come home.”
“Home, that’s just right, petit.” Home was where Harley belonged. Home was just how this felt.
Harley cupped his jaw, fingers stroking gently. “Home. Love.”
18
The throbbing of his leg woke Harley up, and he slid out of bed, hoping that walking on it would ease the ache. It didn’t—but at least he wasn’t dreaming about the hospital, about the blood.
God. That had been intense. He’d seen a little girl come in with a dart stuck in her eye, a dude with a gunshot wound, and a scary homeless guy who kept chewing on his own fingers.
Nasty stuff.
Still, he’d survived it, hadn’t he?
He limped into the kitchen and got himself a big glass of milk.
He’d survived it, got through it himself, like always. He was the most reliable person he knew after all, except maybe Winter. Maybe.
Winter made him soft inside, made him want to give himself over, somehow. It was weird and wonderful, and if he was honest, a little scary.
But he was moving in now, so it was a kind of scary he was going to have to get used to. Good thing he was used to doing things that frightened him.
He leaned against the counter, pondering food. Was he hungry? Maybe he just wanted milk…
“It’s too early.” Winter wandered into the kitchen, mussed and sleepy, and reached for him sliding a hand over his abs.
“Too early?” He leaned in, letting Winter hold him.
“For work.” Winter pet him, hands sliding over his skin. “Not that you will be going to work.”
“No. It’s not time. I’m hurting a little, huh?”
“Of course you are. I’m so sorry, my sweet boy. You need some ice and some Tylenol. The hospital didn’t give you anything stronger, did they?” Winter let him lean, holding some of his weight easily.
“No. They said Tylenol should do it.” He lifted his face for a kiss, begging for the connection.
Winter smiled at him first, then gave him the kiss he was looking for. “I hate that you’re hurting, petit. But don’t you worry, I’m going to take good care of you.”
“You don’t have to.” But he loved that Winter was willing.
“Oh, but I do. And it’s important that you allow me. You must.” Winter looked at him seriously. “It’s what I need.”
“Yeah?” He frowned, trying to work that out. “I don’t want you to think I’m weak or lazy, but…” He just wanted to set his load down a second.
“Oh, no, petit. You are none of those things. Accepting help, being vulnerable, is a measure of trust, that’s all. And helping you helps me too. It…fills me up. Makes me feel taller. Do you understand?”
“I think so. I want to understand, but maybe not tonight. Now I just want you to hold me.” That was the god’s honest truth.
Winter nodded. “I’d like that too.” Winter pulled an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a dishtowel, then ducked under Harley’s arm. “Come back to bed, love.”
