Page 78 of Sin Deep
“That’s my boy. This is a nice space to relax in.” Winter’s fingers slid over his abs. “Things we have to look forward to.”
“It’s exciting, isn’t it? All the things we get to do together? Even silly stuff.” Was it like this for all lovers? This anticipation?
“I’m used to doing things alone, and so… I don’t do much. I don’t go out alone much. I don’t take long walks. I don’t meet men. So yes, everything we do is exciting to me. Even just this.”
“Maybe especially this.” Because this was private and special and sweet.
“Yes.” Winter hummed agreement and pointed to the shallow mantle over the little fireplace. “That’s the horse figurine I painted.”
“Oh, too cool!” He loved that—that Winter had given that memory a place of honor.
“I took it with me because I was proud of it. It’s never been about memories or anything sentimental like that. I was just…proud of the way it came out. I thought that was important to have with me.”
“I get that. It’s cool.” He thought he was more caught by the webs from back home, but he knew he hadn’t had so long to be used to thinking about what he missed.
“You, though. You miss home some, I think.” Winter kissed his cheek.
“I miss knowing that I had one back there. It hurts some.” Because your folks were supposed to love you, no matter what, and that was a lie.
“You have to change your thinking. You had to leave so you could come to me. You needed to find your real home. A home of your own, of your choosing. This is healthy, and that wasn’t. You see? Shift the narrative in your mind.”
“I did, and it wasn’t. I don’t even want to go back. I just wanted to be important.” Now, here, he was, he thought.
“That is not in doubt, petit. You are important to me. And I say that without reservation because I know I am important to you. I didn’t trust that at first. That’s been…a revelation for me.”
“You are. Like truly. You are amazing.” And his lover. That was so fucking right.
Winter kissed him. “You want me to read to you, petit?”
“I’d love that. Please.” Winter always understood if he dozed off. Always.
21
“So Harley is doing better?” Deacon looked adorable this evening, wearing little more than a leather harness and a smile.
“Much. He got back to work on Wednesday.” Though it had been a struggle to keep him home that long, and even then he’d insisted that Harley take it easy. The boy worried about rent, worried about keeping his job…it was maddening. And worth it.
“Have you seen Oliver? He hasn’t been around this week.”
“Mm. Yes. He had a rough weekend, and Raymond took him home.” Though not until late Sunday evening. He’d been away with his husband. “I imagine they’ve been working together.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Deacon set down his glass of wine.
“He’ll be all right. He seems to land on his feet.” Raymond would make sure of that.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sure he will. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to sit here a bit and wait for my boy.”
Harley had gone for a retirement drink for a man at work, so he would be joining Winter here instead of at home, and he’d already had a couple of texts, one from the bar, and one from the subway.
He loved how impatient his boy was to see him. It made him feel warm, loved. That’s why he’d decided to wait here at the bar instead of heading right for his table. He was eager too.
He’d worried the entire three days Harley had worked that his boy would come home with more popped stitches, and he’d fussed about the state of Harley’s bandages, but it had worked out, mostly. He’d been glad at least that Harley had finally moved in so he didn’t have to wonder all week how everything was healing.
Moved in was a funny way to look at it. Harley barely owned anything. He’d cleaned out half of his closet and a small dresser in the bedroom so that Harley would feel like he had some space of his own, but the boy had hardly used any of it.
He checked his phone and didn’t see a new text from Harley, so he sent one of his own.
