Chapter 11

ELEVEN

By Easter,Oakley was convinced that he’d won recovering from a spinal cord injury. As much as he could without regaining motor function in his legs, at least. Every day that passed saw him regaining a bit more sensory perception, or so he was convinced, and he was certain it was just a matter of time before he would stand up, pick up his chair, and toss it in the bin out back.

“It’s a bit of a shame, really, that I’ve made so many modifications to this house,” he commented to Will as the two of them fixed lunch in his renovated kitchen on a lovely day toward the middle of April. “But I suppose I could put the house up on the market as completely accessible and find a new place, once I’m out of the chair.”

He made the comment without thinking about it as he lifted the tray he’d had placed over the arms of his chair onto the table and moved its contents in front of himself and Will.

Will was suspiciously silent as he sat and helped shift things around. He didn’t look at Oakley or smile proudly at him, like he often did when Oakley hit a new milestone in his recovery, like feeling a twinge of pain in his calf as Will worked it particularly hard or getting and staying hard for more than five minutes when they were in bed together.

Oakley moved the tray to the spare chair and maneuvered himself closer to the table with a frown. “You think I’m deluding myself, don’t you,” he said. It wasn’t really a question.

“Not deluding yourself,” Will said, looking at him at last. “Just operating at the far end of the spectrum of optimism.”

He bit into his sandwich, then melted into a smile as he chewed. That was the only thing that kept Oakley from letting the specter of anxiety and disappointment that constantly hovered in the back of his thoughts from breaking through and spoiling his day.

Because whatever was going on with his legs, things between him and Will had been outstanding for the past two weeks. Will had spent every night in Oakley’s bed since the night they’d first managed to have sex. The two of them just clicked together. Will understood just how important little things, like getting himself out of bed in the middle of the night to get to the toilet without having an accident, or being able to reach everything to make himself a sandwich without having to ask one of the home care workers who still came by on a part-time basis for help.

Then there was the sex. It wasn’t anything like sex had been for him before. It wasn’t about dominance and gratification and aggression. Oakley hadn’t even realized how much he’d relied on those things to get him off with his past boyfriends. With Will, it was so much more of a genuine connection. It took him infinitely longer to reach orgasm, which meant foreplay was everything.

And their foreplay was exquisite. It was all about touches and exploration. Will was an amazing kisser, and there had been nights when the two of them had just lazed about in bed, their bodies pressed together, giving and taking in the sweetest possible way as their lips and tongues explored each other. Oakley’d had no idea how many erogenous zones he had above the waist until Will had ignited his senses and rearranged his priorities where intimacy was concerned.

Oakley might not have been able to fold Will up and fuck him into the mattress, like he used to enjoy with his twinks of the past, but he could still give a damn good blow-job. Just the night before, he’d had Will’s entire body shaking as he sat against the headboard of his bed, Will kneeling in front of him with his hands braced on the wall. There had been nothing at all dysfunctional about the way Oakley had sucked and slurped the precum from Will’s thick, throbbing cock while parting his arsecheeks and teasing his hole with lubed fingers. Will had come unexpectedly, partially in Oakley’s face during a mistimed gasp for breath, and they’d both gotten off on it.

“You’re thinking about sex again, aren’t you.”

Will’s observation snapped Oakley out of his heated thoughts, and a flush of hot embarrassment rushed up his neck to his face.

“What do you expect?” Oakley said with pretend casualness, reaching for a crisp and sending Will a coy look. “You were spectacular last night.”

Will hummed around another bite of his sandwich and gazed at Oakley like he was dessert. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” he said.

The compliment was so much more than a throw-away comment. Oakley reached his free hand across the table to Will and caught his breath a little when Will took it and twined their fingers together. There was no need for him to say how terrified he’d been that he would never feel that way again, never be able to perform again.

It wasn’t the big moments that mattered most, though. It wasn’t the weak and not entirely fulfilling orgasms he managed to have after a lot of work that made Oakley feel as though he might just be able to will his spinal cord to completely heal itself. It was the way Will brushed his thumb across the side of Oakley’s hand and the joy in his eyes when the two of them had an impromptu staring contest that filled Oakley with confidence.

Will wanted him, and that was a miracle. Somehow, in the midst of tragedy, Oakley had found exactly the right man for him. Will was his and he was Will’s, and nothing was going to take that away from him. Not even a damaged body.

“I have something for you,” Oakley said as they finished up with lunch and set to work tidying the kitchen.

“Oh?” Will asked, his eyes dancing with mischief and lust as he rinsed their plates in the sink. “Is it something in your trousers?”

Oakley laughed, loving the crude joke because it implied a certain wholeness. “No, although I could arrange for that, if you’d like.”

“I would always like,” Will said, arching one eyebrow. He finished with the dishes, then turned to lean against the counter. “You know that.”

Another unexpected jolt of worry struck Oakley like lightning. What if he somehow lost the ability he’d regained and couldn’t satisfy Will after all? Would Will leave him?

Oakley shoved that thought aside as ridiculous and unhelpful. Or, at least, he tried to. Insecurity was a bitch.

“Yes, I know,” he flirted as if nothing was wrong. “But this is something else.”

Will raised a questioning eyebrow. Oakley maneuvered his chair around and rolled out of the kitchen and down to the living room, Will following. Ever since he’d returned to working, remotely, at the moment, at the beginning of April, he’d gotten into the habit of ordering things online. Mostly things for the house, because it made him feel competent and as if he could take care of himself, but he’d started surfing through shopping sites with Will in mind the way he’d once strolled through Knightsbridge with past boyfriends.

“You know you don’t have to get me anything,” Will said as Oakley fetched the small, leather box from the corner of the shelf where it’d been since its delivery. “You’re already letting me more or less live at your house.”

“Yes, and you won’t let me discuss making that a permanent arrangement yet,” Oakley said with one eyebrow arched, as though he didn’t have panic attacks every time he tried to read into all the reasons Will was holding onto his cheap flat in Ealing.

“What have you got for me, then?” Will asked, moving forward and kneeling on the floor in front of Oakley. He nudged Oakley’s legs open and scooted in as close as he could.

Oakley forgot everything for a moment, distracted by the vague, prickly sensation of Will stroking his hands over his thighs and the much more vivid sensation of him burrowing his hands under Oakley’s shirt to rake his fingernails across Oakley’s torso. When Will reached and tweaked his nipples, Oakley let out a deep rumble of approval and leaned forward to steal a kiss.

It wasn’t really stealing, since Will was more than willing to give him everything he wanted and more. Their lips molded to each other before they each opened to taste deeper. Will still tasted of turkey and avocado, and Oakley was certain his mouth was salty from chips. It made for a delicious, wet feast of sensuality that had Oakley’s cock stirring slightly as if to say, “I can do this. I’m not defeated yet.”

“Is that what you wanted to give me?” Will asked breathlessly a moment later, pulling one hand out of Oakley’s shirt to stroke through his hair instead.

Oakley hummed. “That’s what I always want to give you,” he said, swimming in warmth and joy. “But I also have this for you.”

Will inched back, and Oakley handed the leather box to him.

Will blinked. “What’s this?” he asked, taking the gift and opening it.

Oakley grinned and buzzed with expectation as Will revealed the Tag Heuer watch. It was insanely expensive, but money meant nothing if Oakley could use it to make Will happy.

“It’s lovely,” Will said, taking the watch out of the box to look at it more closely.

Oakley’s excitement flattened. Will smiled at the gift, but that was about it.

“It’s a Tag Heuer,” Oakley said, assuming Will would know what that meant and be impressed.

He assumed wrong.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Will said, smiling at Oakley instead of the watch. “I can’t really wear a watch while working with clients, but I could get used to wearing it the rest of the time.”

Oakley struggled to maintain his smile. His heart beat painfully in his chest. Will had reacted in much the same bland way the day before, when Oakley had given him a top of the line thermal travel mug that had set him back three hundred pounds so he could take his coffee to work and keep it warm all day. Will had said there was nothing wrong with the coffee at the hospital. He hadn’t been particularly impressed with the couture jeans he’d ordered for Will either, saying he wore scrubs most of the time because they were comfortable.

Ellis, and more or less all of Oakley’s other boyfriends, had fallen all over themselves with gratitude every time he’d bought them an expensive trinket. They’d gushed with gratitude—or at least with excitement as the pound signs shone in their eyes—then thanked Oakley in the hottest way possible.

Which, Oakley supposed, was probably not as fabulous as he’d thought at the time.

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” Oakley said, more of his disappointment seeping through. He tried to take the watch back.

“No!” Will moved the watch out of Oakley’s reach, as if it were a game of keep-away. “It’s my watch now, and you can’t take it back.”

“If it’s not something you really want, then I can exchange it for a better gift,” Oakley said, exasperated.

“How dare you regift my watch?” Will continued to treat the whole thing as a game. “My boyfriend gave this to me.”

Those words were like a magic spell to sooth Oakley’s worry and disappointment. He stopped trying to grab at the watch and settled in his chair a little. “I’m sorry, but I like giving gifts,” he said, feeling equal parts sheepish and affectionate. “You’re just going to have to get used to it.”

Will finished putting the watch on, then leaned into Oakley until their faces were inches away. “And you’ll just have to get used to the fact that I would be just as happy if you got me a cake from Sainsbury’s as I would with a tiara from De Beers.”

He underscored his statement with a kiss.

Anxiety curled through Oakley’s gut, but he tried to ignore it. “You would look dazzling in a diamond tiara,” he purred, sliding his arms over Will’s shoulders. “And nothing else.”

He kissed Will as Will laughed, feeling as though things might just be right after all.

Then Will pulled away and pushed himself to stand. They were no longer on the same level.

“Right, well, it’s off to work for me,” Will said, clapping his hands together. “I’ve got three clients to see this afternoon, then I’m coming back to give you a massive workout.”

Oakley grinned over everything the workout implied. At the same time, tendrils of jealousy sprouted off the coil of anxiety that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his gut.

“Don’t go falling in love with any of them,” he said.

It was a joke. Just a joke. Nothing serious about it at all.

Will sent Oakley a look as he headed out of the room. “I’ll see you later,” he said, pointing at Oakley before disappearing around the corner.

Oakley’s smile dropped. He took in a deep breath. Everything was alright between him and Will, wasn’t it? He might have missed the mark with a few gifts, but those things weren’t important to Will. Their relationship was new, and like all new relationships, it took time to truly get to know the other person and what made them tick.

Oakley wheeled himself out of the living room and across to his new office, which had been relocated from the second floor, as soon as he heard the door shut. He was putting too much pressure on himself to make Will happy and to single-handedly ensure that they had the perfect relationship. He was willing to concede that the things that had worked with his boyfriends in the past wouldn’t suit Will at all. Will was deeper than any of them, and so was the affection that the two of them shared.

It would be alright. Everything between the two of them would be alright as soon as they adjusted to each other.

Carrying the weight of his relationship around did not help Oakley to focus on his work as the afternoon began. He felt so woefully behind on everything at his own company anyhow after months of letting his business partner handle it all while he recovered. He was just lucky that Keir was so competent and innovative.

“With the revenue from the industrial development in Norfolk, we should be able to entertain any one of the proposals that have been made for council housing and other affordable living arrangements,” Keir reported as the two of them worked through their afternoon video call.

“Good, good,” Oakley nodded, barely even looking at his computer screen.

“Our financial team is looking at a fifteen percent profit, which isn’t half bad for the sort of project we’re undertaking,” Keir went on.

“Fifteen percent,” Oakley repeated with a nod.

His gaze drifted past the call screen and onto the photo of him and Will that he’d made his computer background just the day before. Will was smiling in that picture, but all of the old photos he had of himself with past flings contained his old flames smiling. They smiled right up until they waved goodbye.

“Oakley, if you’re not up to this yet, it can wait.”

Oakley blinked and focused on Keir again. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit distracted today.”

Keir’s face softened. “That’s to be expected,” he said. “It’s only been three months.”

Oakley cleared his throat. “Three and a half months,” he corrected.

“Still, injuries like the kind you’re dealing with take most people years to recover from,” Keir said. “I can handle the business until you’re back to one hundred percent. And you can trust me, you know. I’m not going to pull some Hollywood stunt and steal your company right out from under you.”

“I know,” Oakley said with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.

Keir paused, then said, “Is it because you’re dating someone new?”

Oakley’s eyes went wide. “How did you know?”

Keir shrugged, which took him slightly off-center of the video window. “You know how gossip gets around these days. And because we’ve been friends for a decade, I’m not going to mince words with you, Oakley. Dating right now is a bad idea.”

Oakley frowned. “You don’t know Will,” he said.

“I didn’t know any of the other shiny, young things you’ve dated either,” Keir said with a wry laugh. “I’ve just known they were all bad ideas. You have terrible taste in men, Oakley.”

“And you have terrible taste in women,” Oakley fired back.

Keir laughed. “I’ll tell my wife you said that.”

“Well, you had terrible taste up until you met Sheila,” Oakley mumbled, feeling worse by the moment.

“Good save,” Keir said teasingly. “And she would agree with you.” He took a breath and went on with, “Look. If dating a hot, young nurse makes you feel virile again—”

“He’s a physical therapist, not a nurse, and he’s twenty-seven,” Oakley interrupted.

“If he makes you feel good,” Keir went on, staring at what must have been Oakley’s video feed on his computer screen, which meant he wasn’t looking at the camera in a way that felt oddly disjointed, “then keep him on for a while. But Oakley, you know these young men can’t keep up with you. They all leave eventually because you never have enough time for them. Obviously, you’re eager to get back to business, otherwise you would still be taking it easy and not having me ramble on at you about building development and charity projects. But just remember why you haven’t settled down before. I’d hate to see you get hurt again when you’re already hurting.”

Oakley cursed himself for the strength of his reaction to Keir’s words. He’d been more emotional in the last three months than he’d ever been in his life, and he hated it.

Will was not going to get bored and leave him like all the others had. Will was different. Their connection was different.

And Oakley was barely able to give Will the things he wanted, let alone what he needed. Oakley didn’t have a clue what Will actually needed.

“It’ll be fine,” he said with a shrug, brushing the whole thing firmly under the carpet, where he could just roll over it and not think about it again. “Now, where are we on the Maidstone development?” he asked firmly enough to end all discussion about his personal life.

“Things are looking good,” Keir went on without missing a beat.

Oakley used everything he had to force himself to pay attention to work. It was a relief when those old muscles finally started to work again and he could shut everything else out. Because he had the horrible feeling that if he thought too hard about all the ways he and Will were so different and how divergent their lives really were, he would start to feel like he was deluding himself about his entire life and not just his recovery.