21. Thomas

CHAPTER 21

Thomas

Well, that went better than I ever could have imagined. Still, I can't quite believe Arlo is here, that he's coming home with me. I thought I'd crash the party and declare my love for him, and then I hoped we'd come back to the hotel to spend the night. My plan was to talk in the morning about the logistics of moving our relationship forward.

Now it's going to be spent researching what kind of visa would suit him best.

My heart thumps in my chest going over what Arlo's cousin said. I wouldn't want anyone to think any marriage between us was for a green card. I'd hate to get investigated or treated like our relationship was a scam.

But it would make several things a whole lot easier. Besides, the romantic in me just really like the idea.

Mama was right. It doesn't matter if it's two weeks or two years. I know this boy is the one. He completes me like a missing puzzle piece I didn't even know wasn't there. He is my sunshine, my oxygen. And it was his idea to move stateside, so that just makes me even more confident.

I'll always look to him to make sure the relationship is on course. He's the real captain of this crew. So the fact that he came up with this plan all on his own makes me want to burst with happiness.

My boy wants me. I feel like my crush just invited me to the prom—something that of course never happened to me back in school.

When my injury ended my playing career in an instant, I was forced to reevaluate everything and try to keep positive, seeing the changes as a new beginning, the second chapter of my life. And yeah, I do love my work now and absolutely still have purpose.

But this feels like the true second beginning. Until now, I've viewed my life in two halves: hockey and no hockey. But the truth is that I'll always have the sport I love from all the kids I coach and support. Seeing them live their dreams fulfills me in a completely different way than I felt being on the ice myself.

Now, my life will be divided into before Arlo and after he came into my life.

The country hotel has a helipad on the roof. It's the main reason why I picked it. The more wine my sister and I consumed the other night, the wilder my scheme became. But when I woke up slightly hungover the next day, I refused to back down from any of the madness. Camila had said I needed to go big or go home, so that's what I did.

And now I'm going home with my boy.

We manage to get a very unhappy Jolly back into his box as we begin our descent. The hotel is also pet-friendly. I thought finding something that fit all my requirements in a close enough proximity to Arlo's parents' house would be impossible, but I guess it shows what kinds of people live in this part of England as it was shockingly easy.

Once we touch down and the blades slowly stop spinning, I thank the pilot for joining me on my harebrained scheme, remove my and Arlo's headsets, then open up the door for us.

"Mind your step," I warn my baby boy, holding his hand as he carefully gets out.

"Thank you, Daddy," he says warmly. As soon as he's on solid ground, he reaches back in the chopper and retrieves Jolly in his box. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the night sky. "We're free," he says, his voice catching a little.

I touch his chin with my finger and thumb, gently encouraging him to look back down at me so I can kiss him softly on the lips. "We're free," I agree.

I know we're both mostly talking about the constraints of his overbearing parents and everything they expected of him. But I also feel free of all the pressure I put on myself. I was so afraid that I'd never be able to find the kind of relationship I wanted that I didn't even try and search for it.

It's a good thing I didn't, really. Otherwise, I would probably have never met my perfect boy. But still, I'm relieved that I don't have that fear I put on myself that I'd never find love and always be lonely when I came home at night.

In a matter of weeks, I've gone from being a sad bachelor to having my own family. I couldn't ask for anything more if I tried.

We make our way down the fire escape stairs that lead from the roof to the lobby. After we walk through the door, I take Arlo's hand, threading our fingers together. He grips onto Jolly's carry case with his other hand, and I appreciate this is all he owns in the world right now.

Arlo already messaged Ginny so she can mail whatever she can to my place in New York. She's promised that she'll get his passport here tomorrow as well as his special stuffies, Chippy and Snap. He almost got distressed when he realized he'd left them behind, but Ginny sent him a photo to assure him that she'd already rescued them. Apparently, in the end nobody stopped her from ransacking Arlo's room. The sad truth is that they didn't seem to care.

Bastards.

I look at him now and can't wrap my head around the idea that anyone could not love him. Well, I've got more than enough love to make up for all those assholes.

He looks handsome in his tuxedo, but I'll need to order him some clothes for the next few days. The idea of dressing my boy fills me with a pleasure I've never known before. This goes way beyond when I bought the few bits for my vacation, like the beach toys. Those were for a hypothetical boy.

Anything I purchase now will specifically be for Arlo. I'll get him jeans and underwear and stuff, but I wonder what I can also buy with pirates and mermaids and sea creatures on them. Even when he's not being little, I bet he'll enjoy a range of fun T-shirts to wear.

He doesn't have to ever worry about being a ‘real grown-up man' ever again. With me, he can always feel free to show his joy and his passions. That's why I love him.

And he loves me, I remember in a flash of happiness. We said it out loud. It's true.

I really have hit the jackpot.

The front desk is staffed twenty-four seven, so there's a young man waiting for us there as we approach. "Hello, Mr. Beltran," he says cheerfully despite the hour.

It doesn't matter how much I travel or how much good customer service I'm privileged to receive. I always get a kick out of people taking the time to make their guests feel extra welcome.

"This must be your friend you mentioned, Mr. Hythe-Wandsworth?"

I wince, realizing that actually in this case, committing our names to memory might not have the desired result. Arlo hates his name so much. But when I look down, my boy is beaming.

"Not for much longer," he says cheekily, winking at me. In that moment, I realize something. Who cares if our marriage-of-convenience chat was just hot air to piss off his folks? The idea of him taking my name gives me such a rush that it doesn't matter if it's next week or in ten years' time.

Arlo Beltran has a fucking awesome ring to it.

The receptionist touches his chest and gasps. "Is that so?" he coos. "Congratulations, both of you. If you don't mind me saying, you make a very handsome couple."

I wrap my arm around Arlo and hug him to my side. "We don't mind you saying at all, sir."

The guy beams at us, then raises his eyebrows. "You're all checked in, Mr. Beltran, and I believe I gave you two key cards earlier. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

I squeeze Arlo's side. "My sister made me pack a toothbrush for you, just in case. Is there anything else you need? Are you hungry?"

"The kitchen is still open for another couple of hours," the receptionist assures us happily.

Arlo suddenly looks very tired, but he smiles. "Food sounds great, actually. And I wouldn't mind borrowing a phone charger if you have one."

"Of course," the guy says. They quickly work out what cable matches his model, and then he shows us a menu from the restaurant. "This has everything, unlike the room service menu," he tells us with a wink. "We can accommodate something special for you gentlemen, though."

He bustles away to occupy himself on the computer while we look at the options. "What do you want, baby boy?" I whisper in his ear.

"You," he says with a giggle. "But also chips. By which I mean fries, not crisps."

I kiss his hair. "I know, sweetheart. I'm learning to speak your weird language."

"I think you'll find that England invented English," he says with an adorable huff.

We both end up ordering fries, except I think chips might actually be the better word as apparently, they're chunky, triple-cooked, and with the skin on, or so the guy explains to us. Potato is potato to me. I get a steak, and Arlo gets a chicken pie, and we both get chocolate cake to share.

Proper comfort food.

"Does Jolly have things in the room?" Arlo asks before we leave the desk.

"Mr. Beltran organized the full pet package, Mr. Hythe-Wandsworth," the guy assures him. "If your furry friend needs anything else, please call down and let me know."

"We will," I tell him, then look down at Arlo, still snug against me, wrapped tightly in my arm. "Ready?"

"Yes, D—" He blushes and swallows the word, although I don't think our friend here would judge us if he called me ‘Daddy,' and my hearts swells regardless. "Yes, I'm ready."

"Then let's head up." I nod at the guy. "Thank you for everything."

"My pleasure," he says warmly.

I know the UK isn't super hot on tipping, but I'm still going to leave a big cash envelope for him when we leave anyway. After Arlo was treated so cruelly by his parents, the fact that the very next human being we met was so kind and supportive of him makes such a difference.

The hotel is a former family estate, probably quite similar to Arlo's home we just left behind. The cream walls, the large painted portraits hanging from them, the crystal chandeliers, and sweeping staircase all remind me of the regency romance novels my sister kept mentioning all throughout our brainstorming session. She wanted drama from my excursion, and boy, did we get it. I can't wait to tell her all about it.

Ours is the biggest room in the place—another minor miracle, considering how late I made the booking. We have a living room area as well as our bedroom and a large bathroom. I know we have to wait for our food, but once we've released Jolly so he can shoot under the sofa to hide, I make short work of stripping my baby's fancy suit off until he's down to his boxer-briefs, then I wrap him in a fluffy complimentary robe.

As I do the same, hanging our clothes in the wardrobe and putting my hat back in its box and placing Arlo's baseball cap on top of it, Arlo nips around me and fishes a couple of things from his pants pockets.

His phone and the magnet.

"Just going to text Ginny," he says, clutching the magnet to his chest like a protective talisman.

He won't need that when we get to New York. Everything will be his, and everything will remind him that he's mine and that he's loved.

Our food doesn't take long to arrive, and I discover that the TV actually has its own streaming service with a range of media available, like airplane entertainment. I let Arlo pick an animated film that I only half pay attention to as we eat.

Mostly, I just watch him relaxing and having fun, feeling content to my bones.

As it's a kids' movie, it's not very long, which is good because after being separated for two weeks, I need Arlo naked and pressed against me like yesterday. Still, I want this to be special, so I don't jump him as soon as the credits roll.

Instead, I let him have some time with Jolly, feeding him leftover steak and chicken and laughing gently about his drastic haircut. "Don't worry," I hear him promising the cat as I move to the bathroom. "It won't take long for it to all grow back. I'm going to brush you every single day so any mats you get will quickly be taken care of."

I'm not sure Jolly is convinced, but he'll soon get used to the new order of things. Knowing my boy's heart is mended because Kirana helped us adopt him is one of the greatest gifts I could ever imagine.

The bathroom is so big it actually has a big clawfoot copper tub. The outside is a pretty marbled teal color that matches the shade of all the complimentary products. I pour bubble bath into the water that's running, the scent of jasmine quickly filling the air. There's even a sachet of scented flower petals to scatter on the surface which I do, because why the hell not?

"Baby boy?" I call him in once the tub is half-full. He comes scampering through the door, grinning as his robe accidentally on purpose falls open.

"Yes, Daddy?"

I hum, taking the robe off all the way and hanging it on the heated rail. Then I slip his underwear off, give him my hand, and help him into the water. He looks up at me, surrounded by bubbles and floating flower petals, and my breath catches.

"You are so beautiful," I murmur.

He blushes and looks away for a second before biting his lip and meeting my gaze again. "So are you, Daddy. Are you going to get in, too?"

Wild fucking horses couldn't hold me back. "Of course," I say, quickly putting my robe with his and dropping my briefs to the floor. I kick them away before slipping into the water behind him, wrapping my arms and legs around his sweet body, trapping him because he's mine.

He squirms against me and moans. "Daddy," he whines, making me laugh.

"Does my naughty little slut want something?" I ask.

He looks over his shoulder at me and pouts. "I've been terribly good," he protests.

I arch an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that you haven't touched yourself since Bali?"

He snorts. "No, Daddy. I've wanked off every single night, thinking about you."

My laugh is loud, but I soon silence myself by kissing his pretty lips. "Such a potty mouth," I mumble. "I'll have to think of ways to keep it quiet."

He sucks in a breath as my hand envelopes his hardening cock, stroking it in the water, kissing him as he trembles. But then he suddenly turns around, sloshing water over the edge. It's a good thing I only half filled the tub, as with both of us in here it got pretty full, and now he's giving me his best impression of a killer whale in a goldfish bowl.

I forget all about the water, however, when he straddles me and lines our cocks up, stroking us together. I groan and wrap my hand around his so we work together. His dick feels so perfect against mine. It doesn't take long before we're both spilling into the water.

I'm glad I booked us a few days in the hotel. I wasn't sure what we'd be doing, so I haven't booked any flights back to New York yet. But that means I can spend the next couple of days doing nothing but fucking my incredible, sweet, perfect boy in every way I can imagine pleasuring him.

For now, sharing an orgasm in the tub seems like the perfect way to finish our wild evening. I kiss him softly while we come down, then I drag myself out of the water to get our towels, drying us both off, ready to sleep.

As I haul him under the covers, I sigh and wrap my limbs around him again like an octopus. This time, he's facing me, and he giggles as he lays his head on my chest. "I missed you," he admits in the dark.

I chuckle ruefully. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep since Bali."

That night, though, I sleep like a log, safe in the knowledge that everything I need in the world is all in this room. I've got my crew. I've got my love.

Who knows what adventures the high seas will bring us next? All I know is that Arlo was right. We're free men, now. We get to live our lives the way we choose.

Together.