Chapter Nine

RYAN STOODunder the hot spray, letting the water sluice over his body. With a shudder, he finally let go. Tears mingled with the water swirling down the drain. Relief mingled with hope, but he wouldn’t be able to really breathe until Leo’s procedure was done.

When he felt a little more centered, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he leaned against the bathroom counter, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes matched Dylan’s. Only his came from worry and not from sacrifice. The haunted look Ryan saw in Dylan’s eyes every time someone showed him compassion made Ryan want to do more. As he watched Dylan sleep, Ryan wrestled with the growing need for more. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching for Dylan’s hand. All he could allow himself was to hold him. Taking care of Dylan was a small gesture, and it wasn’t enough to express his deeper feelings. He wanted Dylan. He wanted to make up for all the times Dylan wasn’t loved the way he should have been. The attraction that pulled at him—mind, body, and soul—had been building since their first meeting. Ryan couldn’t stop it, and this time he didn’t want to.

Ryan panicked when Dylan talked about going home. He wasn’t ready for him to leave; he didn’t want him to leave.

His phone flashed with an incoming call from his sister.

“Is Leo okay?” he answered.

“He’s fine. Three bedtime stories and he’s fast asleep.”

Ryan exhaled. “Good. That’s good.”

“I reached out to Lisa. The jet is on standby to take Dylan back to LA on Thursday, and his follow-up appointments have been scheduled with his doctor.”

“You did what? I didn’t tell you to do that.”

“No, you didn’t, but you have enough on your plate, so I thought I’d go ahead and take care of it for you.”

“Thursday is the day after tomorrow. It can take a week to ten days to recover from surgery.”

“We can hire a private nurse to travel with him.”

Stephanie’s dismissive attitude set his teeth on edge. “Call my assistant back and cancel everything. Dylan is staying here until he recovers. Actually, Dylan is staying for the summer. He’ll be tutoring Leo to help him keep up with school.” The plan took shape as he spoke. It was reckless and selfish, and he didn’t care. Ryan only hoped he could convince Dylan to go along with it.

He ignored his sister’s exasperated huff. “We can hire—”

“No, we can’t,” he cut her off. “He’s Leo’s uncle, and he should get to spend time with him.”

“I don’t think it’s right for him to worm his way into the family. Leo shouldn’t get too attached. It’s not like he’ll be seeing him on a regular basis after this.”

“That’s not what he’s doing, Steph.” He softened his tone. “Look, I know Lindsay was your best friend, and it’s been hard for you. You need to take the time to get to know Dylan.”

“He’s not like Lindsay at all.” The words came out sounding like an accusation.

“No, he’s not. And that’s not a bad thing.”

“I’ll try,” she finally said.

“Thanks, Steph, that’s all I ask.”

He hung up with his sister and went back to the guest room. He carefully perched on the edge of the bed, looking down at Dylan’s sleeping form. Without the registry, the odds were Leo wouldn’t have survived, and without the registry, Dylan never would have come into their lives. The thought of never meeting this kind, caring man made him shudder. How was it possible for anyone to believe the lies Dylan’s parents told about him after meeting and getting to know him?

His sister’s actions caught him off guard. Yes, she’d been overly protective of Ryan, but she’d also always been his closest confidant and advisor. His parents weren’t the kind who were super engaged in their children’s lives. They were raised with a series of nannies who, although kind, couldn’t make up for their parents’ absence at school events or missed birthdays. Maybe that’s why he and Stephanie shared a bond that was closer than most.

Dylan stirred and rolled to his side with a slight wince. Ryan checked his watch. It was too soon for him to take any more pain medication.

That had been another point of worry. Dylan refused to take anything more than an over-the-counter painkiller, rejecting any kind of narcotic. Ryan suspected the root cause was the lies Dylan’s parents spread about him. Were they aware of the profound and enduring effect their cruelty had on their son? Of course not. They’d made it clear they didn’t care.

“Con,” Mrs. Lieu whispered from the doorway. “Leave him be.” She motioned for him to join her. “There’s nothing you can do but let him sleep,” she said when he met her in the hallway.

“He’ll need more pain medication in—” He checked his watch. “—an hour and a half.”

“I know. I’m keeping track.”

Ryan ran his hands through his hair. “But he’s hurting now.”

Mrs. Lieu gave him a sympathetic look. “And so are you. You always want to take on everyone else’s pain.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” she said with a stern shake of her head. “Come down to the kitchen. I made fettuccine.” She gave him a gentle push toward the stairs and followed him down to the kitchen.

The pasta was rich and creamy, with the perfect balance of garlic and parmesan, and was exactly what he needed.

“You’re falling asleep at the table.” Mrs. Lieu rested her chin on her palm, smiling at him.

His protest came to a halt when a yawn interrupted him.

“Go to bed. I’ll make sure Dylan gets his medicine.”

“Thanks,” he said around another yawn.

On his way to his room, he poked his head in Dylan’s room for one last check and found him struggling to sit up in bed.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?’ Ryan rushed over and gently pushed him back down.

“It’s fine. I needed to use the bathroom,” he said in a sleepy mumble.

“I’ll help you.”

Ryan put his arm around Dylan’s waist and helped him slowly stand. Dylan winced, letting out a slow hiss.

“They should have kept you in the hospital,” Ryan said as they carefully made their way toward the bathroom.

“Ryan, it’s fine. The doctor said soreness was normal.”

Ryan shook his head with an exasperated sigh and grabbed Dylan’s hand while he kept his arm around his waist with the other. “Take it easy.”

This close he could feel the firm muscles in Dylan’s back that he’d only seen from his office window while he watched him swim. The soft curls on top of Dylan’s head tickled his chin. Ryan breathed in the rosemary-and-mint scent of Dylan’s shampoo. He almost tripped himself at the jolt of awareness that had his cock straining against his zipper.

“Ryan?” Dylan looked up at him with concern.

He didn’t realize he’d come to a stop midway between the bed and the bathroom.

“Sorry,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The way Dylan looked up at him, Ryan was close enough to see the flecks of green and black in the soft brown depths of his eyes. He only had to drop his chin and Dylan’s lips would be a breath away.

He jerked back, making Dylan wince. “Sorry.” He got Dylan to the bathroom and left him at the door. “I’ll let you….” He backed away.

Ryan turned and fled. In the hall, he pressed himself against the wall, breathing heavily, trying to get his body back under control. What the hell was happening to him? He didn’t lose control. He couldn’t lose control.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t do this,” he said in an anguished whisper.

“Ryan,” Dylan called out from the bedroom.

He drew in a deep breath and walked back in. “I’m here.”

Dylan had returned to bed on his own, his face pinched with pain. “Could I have some ibuprofen or aspirin, please?”

He felt like an ass hearing the strain in Dylan’s voice. “I’ll get you something.”

He rushed back downstairs, filled a pitcher with fresh water, and grabbed the bottle of painkillers Mrs. Lieu had left on the counter, waving her off when she came into the kitchen offering to help.

Dylan was sitting up against the pillows with his eyes squeezed shut, beads of sweat on his forehead, when Ryan returned. He poured a glass of water and shook out a couple of pills for Dylan.

“Thanks.” Dylan took the glass from him with a shaky hand. He swallowed the pills and sat back with a sigh.

Ryan noted how pale he looked. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Maybe more of Mrs. Lieu’s pho if there’s any left.”

Ryan chuckled. “Are you kidding? She’s made enough to feed the entire UW football team. I’ll get you some.”

Ryan was relieved to see the pain on Dylan’s face had eased when he returned with a bowl of broth.

But his hand was still shaking and the bowl almost tipped into his lap when Dylan tried to take a sip from the spoon.

“Here.” Ryan took the bowl out of his hands and dipped the spoon in the broth, holding it to Dylan’s lips.

“I can—”

“Nope,” Ryan said with a wry smile, tipping the spoon into Dylan’s mouth before he could finish his protest. “I’m a dad. I’ve got experience dealing with a stubborn, sick kid. Don’t argue with me.”

Dylan’s lips twitched, and he opened his mouth in response.

“You’re a really good dad, Ryan,” he said after another sip.

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat, surprised at the emotions Dylan’s compliment brought up. Besides Mrs. Lieu, no one else had ever told him that before.

He put the spoon to Dylan’s lips again.

“Was my sister a good mom?” he asked quietly.

Ryan put the spoonful of broth back in the bowl. “I—” Why didn’t yes come instantly? “Lindsay loved Leo, but… being a mother. It’s a challenging job for everyone. Your sister did the best she could.”

Dylan nodded with a grim expression that let Ryan know he didn’t have to say anything more.

He fed Dylan another couple of spoonsful.

“I should have brought a napkin,” he said, wiping a drop from Dylan’s chin with his thumb.

Dylan licked his lips. “I think I’m done now,” he said with a slight quiver in his voice.

Ryan looked down at the empty bowl. “Yeah, okay.” He got up and hesitated. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I think I’ll read for a little while,” Dylan said, reaching for his e-reader on the bedside table.

“What do you like to read?”

Dylan’s face flushed. “You’ll think it’s dumb.”

“No judgment, I promise.”

“I like to read gay romance.”

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Remember, you said no judgment,” Dylan said.

“What? Who’s your favorite author?”

“I have a couple: Damon Suede and Lily Morton.”

“If I was going to read one, what book would you recommend?”

Now it was Dylan’s turn to look surprised. “Oh, I… why?”

“I haven’t read anything new in a while. Maybe I’ll try one.”

“Well, Damon Suede writes pretty sexy stuff, and Lily Morton writes fun snarky dialogue. I guess it depends on what you’re into.” Dylan’s face flushed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Ryan looked Dylan in the eye. “I don’t mind.”

Dylan clamped his mouth shut and looked away.

The man was sick, and Ryan was flirting with him. Kicking himself, he took another step toward the door. “I’ll let you get some rest. If you need anything, promise you’ll text me or Mrs. Lieu.”

Dylan nodded but kept his gaze focused on the twinkle of lights from the houses on the other side of the lake outside his window.

What had gotten into him, flirting with Dylan? It was so natural. He’d wanted to keep going to see the flush of color spread over his cheeks and the slight dimple that appeared on one cheek when Dylan smiled. He struggled when he’d first started dating, always feeling awkward and unsure of what to say. But he didn’t feel that way around Dylan.

The sky started to tinge pale pink as Ryan finished reading his first gay romance. He’d chosen a Lily Morton book to start with. By the time he finished, he headed straight for the shower to jerk off.

The story of a single-dad actor and a male model had him laughing and, at times, wiping away tears. And the sex scenes had him replacing the fictional characters with a vision of himself exploring Dylan’s body.

He’d never given in to his fantasies like this before. A part of him felt like he should feel guilty, but he didn’t. His thoughts and feelings were a jumble, but one thing was clear. He was attracted to Dylan, and he wanted to explore the feelings Dylan had awakened in him. He felt like he’d been sleepwalking through life and had just woken up ready to face a new day.