Chapter 19

NINETEEN

At first,Oakley was too stunned by Will dragging him out of his chair and hoisting him into his arms to protest. Admittedly, his arms ached and his lungs were on fire from the effort of pushing himself up as much of the hill as he’d managed so far, and having Will carry him for a while felt like a wonderful bit of relief.

But as they lurched on, Will stumbling a little until he figured out the best way to carry Oakley, the full impact of everything that was happening hit Oakley like the raindrops that had started to spit down on them from the heavens.

“Stop it,” Oakley growled, struggling a little in Will’s hold.

His efforts only made it harder for Will to move forward, and when Will nearly dropped him, Oakley clung on for dear life.

“I don’t want to go up the hill,” he tried again as Will ignored him, pushing on with a determined pinch in his face. “I don’t care about seeing everything from the top.”

“We’re climbing this hill, dammit,” Will panted in reply. “If it’s the last thing we ever do.”

Will meant it. Oakley could feel just how much in the taut strength of his arms and with each reaching stride as the path got steeper. He’d felt it that morning in the tender way Will had made love to him while he’d fought not to let the kisses and caresses break through his resolve that Will was better off without him. He felt it in everything around him and inside of him.

He’d been wrong. Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, Oakley had the sick, thudding realization that he’d been wrong. Pushing Will away from him wasn’t going to solve a damned thing. There was no nobility in him being a martyr either.

There were some things he was never going to be able to change, no matter how much he wept or railed or roared against them. He hadn’t fastened his seatbelt. They’d hit a patch of ice. They’d crashed. He would never walk again.

He’d fallen in love.

“Stop, Will!” he shouted, tugging at Will’s shoulder, because it was the only thing he could reach.

“I’m not stopping,” Will snapped in reply. “I won’t let you do this. I’m not ready.”

“I’m not going to—”

Just as the promise that he wasn’t going to break up started to leave Oakley’s lips, Will tripped on a slick patch of grass as the rain picked up. They both went spilling to the ground. Oakley slipped out of Will’s arms and sprawled in the dirt that was quickly turning into mud.

The impact with the ground startled him, igniting memories from the night of the crash that he’d completely repressed until that moment. The feeling of being completely out of control and teetering on the chasm of death swept through him, and with it, the memory of pain. Everything had been dark and cold. One loud smash, and then there had been silence in the middle of the frosty night, until the ambulance sirens blared.

There was noise all around Oakley now. The rain drummed down on the rocks and the earth. The faint whoosh of the wind swiping through the trees added to the cacophony. And above all that came Will’s anguished groan as he pulled himself to his hands and knees, then pushed himself to stand.

“I’m not letting you give up,” he told Oakley as he moved forward to scoop him into his arms again.

“You have to stop this,” Oakley said, squirming and struggling, but only getting dirty for his efforts. “Will, what is the matter with you? You need to calm down.”

“Not until we reach the top of the hill,” Will insisted, rain and mud streaking his face.

As ridiculous as the moment was, the sight of Will looking so raw and wild made Oakley’s breath catch in his lungs. Dear God, but the man was gorgeous. His shirt was plastered to his torso, showing off his corded muscles in all their glory. The fire in his eyes was enough to make Oakley promise to do anything he wanted, as long as that passion was always directed at him. Climb the hill? Fuck, the way Will looked as he hoisted Oakley into his arms again convinced Oakley that he could bring down the mountains.

“You don’t have to do this,” Oakley said, calmer, somehow, because of Will’s strength as he started on up the increasingly slippery path. “I don’t care about getting up the hill. I don’t care about any of it. I just want to be with you.”

The truth of that was so plain to him that he felt like a right fool for ever doubting it. It was true, his emotions had been on a roller coaster since New Year’s. He’d had to fight and strive for acceptance and capability and every little inch that he’d traveled in that time. He’d bounced back and forth from strength to depression so many times he’d lost track, and he was certain he’d go through the cycle again and again until the memory of everything that he’d once been was just that, a memory, and not the version of himself he thought he should be.

Through all of that, Will had been there. He could have walked away whenever he wanted, but he hadn’t. Oakley was an idiot for not giving the man credit where it was due.

And, of course, Will only heard what he wanted to hear in the declaration Oakley had made.

“I won’t let you settle for anything less than the man I know you are,” he growled, his steps growing more labored as the hill became steeper still and the rain came down in sheets. There was even a roll of thunder in the distance that had Oakley doubting the wisdom of the two of them heading up to the exposed portion of the hill at all.

“Stop!” Oakley shouted, tugging on his shirt. “I’m not settling for anything less. I’m not settling for anything less than you.”

The moment was romcom perfect, as far as Oakley was concerned, but once again, Will slipped in the mud, dropping to his knees. He let out a sharp cry, and Oakley struggled to get away from him so that he could figure out what had hurt him.

“I won’t let you do this,” Will shouted, completely misunderstanding the point of Oakley’s struggle and wrestling to get him back into his hold. “You can dump me at the top of the hill, but I’m not letting you keep yourself from something I know you love just because you’re convinced it’s all over.”

It was his own damned fault for even considering letting Will go. Of course Will would figure out what he was thinking, even if he hadn’t said anything. Will knew him better than anyone now. He knew what his silences meant as much as his words. But that knowing worked both ways.

“Stop trying to pick me up for just one second,” he said as loud as he could to be heard over the rain. “Stop trying to be the hero and listen to me.”

“Not if you’re going to give up,” Will said.

“Will!” Oakley shouted. He gave up his efforts to break free of Will and grabbed the sides of Will’s face with both hands instead. That forced Will to look him in the eyes instead of trying to search beyond to where they were going. “I’m not going to break up with you.”

Will went suddenly still. The drumming of the rain seemed to grow louder, and rivulets of cold ran down Oakley’s back and around his legs where he was splayed in the mud. He could feel the runnels of muddy rainwater like slithering tentacles along his powerless legs, but the mere existence of the sensation, even if it was strange and wrong, was its own sort of victory.

“I have no intention of breaking up with you,” he repeated, blinking and sputtering to keep the rain out of his face.

“You…you don’t?” Will asked, blinking back in surprise.

A strange, new peace settled over Oakley. He brushed the mud and wet hair out of Will’s face, caressing it as he went. He’d never loved anyone the way he loved Will. He’d been convinced that the honorable thing to do was to let that love go, but with every fresh beat of his heart, he could see that impulse had been entirely selfish. He’d been a total prick to think he was being noble, to not give Will a choice in the matter. He couldn’t hold onto that selfishness anymore, because there were things that were bigger than him, than his body or his money or his wants.

“I love you,” he said, his voice cracking with the strength of the emotion as it roared out of him. “I absolutely love you with everything I have and everything I am. How could I dump you when I feel like this?”

Everything inside of him went hot. His throat tightened to hold in a sob, and his eyes stung with tears, even as the cool rain beat them to his cheeks.

“You…you’re not breaking up with me?” Will asked, his eyes as wide as a child’s who had just discovered a new secret of the universe.

“No,” Oakley said, laughing and crying at once and holding Will’s face again. “I…I thought about it. I was going to. I thought it would be better for everyone, that I would only bring you down if I made you stay with me.”

“I would—”

Oakley smacked his hand over Will’s mouth to stop him from whatever he’d been about to say. “Yes, I was a fucking idiot, I know,” he said, laughing harder. “It was stupid and selfish and mean, and I’m sorry. I love you. I…I love you.”

That was it. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. There wasn’t anything else, really. Love was it. It was the new world opening up ahead of him.

“You bastard!” Will shouted, his eyes dancing with something so different from the anger that those two words might have implied that Oakley’s heart slammed against his ribs. “You made me come all the way out here in the rain, thinking that you wanted nothing more to do with me. I’m trying to be heroic here and make some sort of grand gesture to prove that I love you so much that my life would be meaningless without you.”

Oakley laughed with everything he had…and within moments, that laughter turned into tears. Everything he felt, everything that had been building in him, was too big for anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he said, snorting and snuffling as he got snotty. “You’re just going to have to put up with me being an emotional basket case. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Fuck,” Will growled, then burst into laughter.

He then threw himself forward, gathering Oakley in his arms and sending them both splashing into the muddy puddle that was quickly forming around them. Will didn’t seem to care about the puddle, and neither did Oakley. All he cared about was Will’s mouth on his, on the heat that burned him like it would melt him and Will together.

He gripped the sides of Will’s shirt, digging his fingertips into the fabric and into Will’s muscles under it. If he could have moved his legs, he would have wrapped them around Will’s waist to hold his lover as close as he could. The two of them couldn’t be too close, as far as he was concerned.

Will kissed him with punishing force, invading him with his tongue and taking what he wanted, what they both needed. There was anger for Oakley ever doubting him in that kiss, and there was the promise of passion the likes of which Oakley had never known, not with anyone. And as wild as the whole thing was, Oakley wouldn’t have traded any of it for the world.

Finally, Will pulled back, breaking their savage kiss with a heavy breath.

“We’re getting to the top of this hill,” he said, ferocity shining in his eyes.

“If you ask me, we’ve already made it to the summit,” Oakley said, beaming up at him.

Will’s expression softened to humor. “Metaphorically, yes. But I’m fucking getting to the top of this hill physically as well, and you’re coming with me.”

“I’ll go anywhere you want me to go,” Oakley said, meaning it to the center of his soul.

Will sat up, pulling Oakley with him. It took a bit of figuring and struggling, but they ended up with Oakley on Will’s back. As long as Will held his legs, they could do a piggyback almost easily.

Or, they would have been able to if the entire hillside hadn’t been turned into a slippery mound of mud and grass. Will wasn’t one to give up easily, and neither was Oakley. They fought for every step the rest of the way to the summit, laughing every time they slipped and finally shouting with victory once they reached the top.

Except once they got there, once Will sank to the ground and they sat side by side, in a wet, muddy mass, the scream that ripped out of Oakley’s lungs had nothing to do with victory over a tiny accomplishment.

There it was. The gorgeous vista that he had hiked to a hundred times in the past and that had wrapped itself around his soul stretched out before him in all its misty, rainy glory. The verdant hillsides and the peace of nature that had been his solace and his joy for as long as he could remember was right where he’d left it.

And he would never be able to roam freely over it, feeling the solid earth beneath his feet, reveling in the stretch and flex of his legs as he took the hill in powerful strides, again. He could see it all, he could feel the cool grass under his hands and the gentling rain against his face, but it would never be the same.

So he screamed. He let every ounce of his pain tear out of his lungs and reverberate against the trees and the sky and the earth. He screamed as the tears ran down his face and his lungs burned for the man he once was but would never be again. He screamed against the unfairness of it all and for the choices that had been taken away from him. He screamed until there was nothing left but empty sobs that clawed their way out through his soar throat as he collapsed into Will’s ready embrace.

There was nothing left inside him but the grief that would forever lie under the floorboards of his heart, whispering about what might have been.

But then other things drifted slowly into those bereft spaces. The rain eased up until it was a chorus of gentle murmurs, filled with anticipation about what would happen next. The bubbling of an overfilled stream winding through the hills in the distance brushed softly through the retreating wind. Birds started calling to each other as they flitted through the trees, shaking off the last of the storm and singing for the sunlight that could already be seen cutting through the clouds in the distance.

And there was Will, warm and solid, clutching him close and shaking with emotion as he wept right along with Oakley. Will, who had endured his worst moods and his delusions about how the future would unfold. Will had been there with him for his greatest triumphs in the last few months and for his most miserable defeats. He’d been dragged through it all, in his own life as well, but he sat right there holding Oakley, ignoring how soaked and muddy he was.

Will loved him. Those weren’t just words either. After all the stress and uncertainty of waiting for Will to make the declaration, Oakley realized it didn’t matter. He knew. He’d known all along. The words were just the gleam of the sunlight as it danced across the rain-wet hillside, they weren’t the sun itself.

“Well, aren’t we a right mess,” Oakley said, the words coming out hoarse from his blown-out throat.

Somehow, Will had draw him all the way between his legs and into his embrace, and when Oakley managed to muscle himself so that he was lying against Will’s lap, gazing up at him, Will blinked at him, then laughed. His eyes were red-rimmed and wet, but he was still the most beautiful thing Oakley had ever seen.

“You’re a fucking prick,” he sobbed, filling the filthy words with so much endearment that Oakley’s throat closed up all over again.

Will jostled him around until he could contort himself into a position to kiss him. Oakley didn’t care how uncomfortable or how wet it was, he needed that kiss. They both needed it. And in no time, they were right back where they’d been before, sprawled in the wet grass together, tangled up and kissing.

It was going to be alright. Really and truly. They weren’t just words or hopes anymore. The heaviness that came over Oakley’s body wasn’t from grief or depression. He was giving up, but not in a bad way. Will was right. He was never going to walk again. He would never be the man that strode into a room and commanded everyone present. He would fucking roll into the room, and everyone else would stand up and listen to him.

“As lovely as this is,” he said a few minutes later, when his and Will’s energy both had worn out and they were just lying there, “it would be even lovelier if we were naked and soaking in the giant bathtub the eighth earl had installed in the bathing room.”

Will lifted his head. “The eighth earl installed a giant tub in the bathing room?” Every part of the question was asked with more incredulity than the last.

Oakley lay back and laughed. “You’ve snagged yourself a good one, my boy,” he teased.

“Sounds like it,” Will said. He pushed himself to sit and grinned down at Oakley. “So, a warm bath, possibly with bubbles, and can we have the servants deliver tea and crumpets on a silver tray?”

“God, you’re going to be a worse aristocrat than I ever was,” Oakley said with fake distaste, his heart swelling until it felt too big for his chest. “And I hate to say it, but Mrs. Millbeck would probably love to play Victorian housekeeper and send a footman up to us with treats on a silver tray while we’re in the bath.”

Will laughed and helped Oakley to sit. “I would settle for tea and a packet of biscuits resting on the windowsill while we soaked.”

Oakley shook his head. “Not the windowsill. The tub’s in the middle of the bloody room. But there’s a sort of shelf attachment that goes on it where we can put the food.”

It felt odd to have such a banal conversation about basic pleasures after spewing out his soul to the mountains…and yet, it didn’t. For the first time all year, Oakley felt centered and right. As Will picked him up and he wrapped himself around his back for the trek back to his chair, Oakley was genuinely happy.