5. The Thread Count, Beau

From the moment I settled into the most comfortable bed I'd ever laid on—even better than Dash's hotel room mattress from years ago—my worries melted away. The instant feeling of relaxation had me digging in to find the exact right spot. Ah, yeah, there it was. The resulting yawn proved the point.

The years of watching my own back had apparently worn me out more than I'd realized. I nibbled at the skin on my lower lip while admiring the intricate patterns of the ceiling tiles. Slowly spinning ceiling fans turned on the opposite sides of the room.

Was this what heaven felt like?

I allowed the notion of finally belonging somewhere—at least for the night—to soak in. I relaxed my muscles, crossed my ankles, and stretched my body from the tip of my toes to the top of my shoulders. I didn't seek the bedspread. I was better than good enough.

Soft, muted overhead lights glowed around the seam of the ceiling and the base of the mounted fans. In the background, instrumental music played quietly. Dash lived a good life.

How I'd managed to get this far into the night was still very questionable, especially since I intended to be en route to Alabama eight hours ago. Nevertheless, I'd cherish this memory, just like all the rest.

Perhaps the universe had guided me on this path of reconciliation to propel me into the future in a healthy way. I was tying up my loose ends.

Dash climbed on the mattress from the other side. His muscular chest and toned arms led to a nicely defined belly, sweet treasure trail, and a solid erection outlined in the material of his shorts. He made no effort to try to hide it.

"I'm sorry. I'm too attracted to you. It'll always be like this when we're together," Dash confessed, maybe due to how intently I stared at said erection. Despite being caught with my eye on the prize, I watched with interest as he used his palm to adjust his cock as he settled in beside me.

"I feel the same way," I admitted, lifting an arm as he nestled against me. He fit perfectly at my side as if that was exactly where he was meant to be.

My feather-light touches along Dash's arm soothed me. He rested his head in the space between my shoulder and bicep. Dash's bark of laughter coaxed me to look at him, prompting me to draw my free arm underneath my head to help hold it up. "What?"

"It doesn't appear that's the case."

I gave a hearty chuckle and solid humph at his absurdity and redirected my attention to the ceiling. Certainly, every person in the world found the man in my arms sexually attractive.

"What's that supposed to mean? I need further explanation. You're making me insecure." I felt his eyes on me.

"Yeah, right. I don't think you know the meanin' of insecurity." A further giggle welled until I had no choice but to let it go, just like the other. Dash insecure. Right. "I got to where I could control my arousal. You made it crucial because you were still all in my head. I guess I got too good at it. It seems like it doesn't work right anymore."

"Really?" Dash lifted to gauge the truthfulness of my words. His eyes narrowed with a wicked glint in his stare. His hand began to slide down my chest. "Can I give it a shot?"

Most certainly not. I was hanging on by a thread. If he managed to bring me up, I might not ever get it to lie down again. With a head shake, I grabbed his hand. There was little doubt the emotions he'd stirred needed to be released, but slowly, dealt with one at a time.

I caught the regret wrinkling his brow. "I'm disappointed. I expected us to be going at it hard."

"Mmm."

"Are you on any of the social sites?"

I barely knew what that was. "No. I don't have access to a computer that often." Another yawn slipped out, turning jaw cracking long this time.

"I didn't think so. I searched for you. I have MySpace and Facebook."

"Hmm," I replied.

"What's going on with the piercings?" Dash asked.

"An initiation deal with the team. All freshmen have it done. I took it a step further, getting my nose pierced. I knew it would piss off my dad," I replied. The good memory of watching him blow his top had me smiling. "I wear these flat tip studs all the time. I'll probably remove them soonish."

"I have employment set after graduation. I've signed the contract. I'll begin working in the fall of next year." Dash's head tilted up to me, maybe for approval, or maybe just in thought. "After this term, I have a year left of law school. I can speed that along and finish sooner if I need to."

"Where're you workin'?" I asked.

"Haynes, Baker, Smart, and Reed. They work for one of my brothers so technically not a self-made opportunity, but most firms in DFW have worked with one member of my family or another. They'll give me credibility as I move forward with my career. Nothing's changed for me. My goal is to help people. I want to offer pro bono services and fight corruption."

As he spoke of his dreams, his fingertip lightly traced the outline of my pec, slowly moving into the edge of my nipple. The simple touch stirred a longing inside me I hadn't remembered was even there. The memory of a young Dash tossing rocks at my window had me tightening my hold, drawing him closer as I tuned back in.

"Money's not really an issue for me, but I'd like to make it on my own. Be self-sufficient and as self-made as possible. Maybe leave my inheritance to our children, or not. I want them to be self-made too."

"Children?" My heart ceased its beat, my lungs stopped drawing in breath. In a whiplash worthy move, I snapped my head up. My eyes had to be bulging out of their sockets. I was never having a child, let alone enough to constitute several. My genetic pool would die with me.

"You didn't seem to be listening. You should've seen the look on your face." His boisterous laugh and teasing glint marginally eased me.

I slid my arm back underneath my head again. Dash propped his chin on his hand. He happily kept my gaze. "I'm still bullheaded. I rarely give in to anything."

"Hmm. I remember you'd sometimes give," I said, easily falling into his hypnotic stare. Dash's charming smile just did it for me, but those eyes were my undoing. I didn't necessarily plan to turn the tables, but I did take the opportunity. "We were only together for a couple of weeks. I guess there wasn't enough time to really get to know you."

Dash's expression grew fierce as he rose above me. It was my turn to laugh. "We had at least a month," he corrected firmly. "Am I the only one who understands simple math?" His strong jaw was set like a steel trap, ready to take on the world if necessary.

"I feel like I win," I said, gently nudging his head down with my hand. It sprang right back up.

"No, you don't win. We had at the very least a long month together. We set forever into motion in those thirty days. I fished and liked it. You showed me how to live a normal life. I shoulder the blame for what happened to you…"

Oh hell no. I jacked knifed up, dislodging him to where he tumbled to his back.

"Dash, listen to me," I said, twisting to look him directly in the eyes. He needed to hear me. "It was my fault the way everything went down. I got too cocky. Yes, you push. You want your way, but it was also the right way. I reached for your hand for the world to see. I was bought into the future you planned. My father showin' up like that… That's on me."

"That's ridiculous." Dash rose as quickly as I had, his chest rising and falling in short breaths. He was preparing to do what he always did, what had me lying in his bed instead of being on the road. He was using reason as he stated his point of view. "I'm the one at fault. You told me no. That should have been enough."

There was no conceivable way I was allowing him, the best man on the planet, to shoulder this blame. I lifted my hand, flinging his words back to him. "If it weren't for the way you went after what you wanted, I'd never have experienced so much. I loved you. I still love you. You drew me out of myself with the way you stayed on me. I reached for your hand. What happened that day is not your fault."

"I don't see it that way," Dash said quietly. His chin hit his chest. His shoulders went slack. He moved until he crossed his legs, sitting in front of me. "I'll admit we're different people now. We've grown, matured, and maybe over the years, I clung to you for the same reasons you clung to me. We've hung on to each other for the hope of a different life. We need to let this happen like it's supposed to. If it doesn't work then it doesn't work, but we have to try. Walking away can't be an option. I know what it's like to lose you. I can't go through it again."

"I don't like me. How're you goin' to?" I whispered hoarsely.

"I don't know the answers except to say, you're here. For you to leave without giving us a chance…" Dash stopped speaking and shook his head, dispelling whatever more he had to say. "Let's go to sleep. You have a long drive tomorrow."

This time, taking Dash into my arms was as natural as sleeping in this bed. When his finger began caressing across my muscles, lulling me into sleep, the smallest of goosebumps sprang up against the touch. A raw reaction that I couldn't hide away. My tight control was slipping.

My eyes closed as I realized I'd never considered Dash's pain. Not really. He'd always been there for me. Never failing to assure me that he was waiting. I hadn't given him the same peace of mind. Luckily, before I fully explored my selfishness, the years of always keeping one eye open, ready for whatever came at me, faded into oblivion. I coasted off to sleep.

Dash's uniquely exotic scent surrounded me, tightening my lax body. I searched for him, patting the bed beside me, wanting my good morning kiss before I started my day. My straining cock hoped his lips agreed to travel lower and take care of my need there too.

I stretched, extending my toes in one direction, my arms the other.

My eyes fluttered open. A long yawn followed as I burrowed deeper into the luxe mattress. I closed my eyes again, remaining that way until the reality of where I was and what I was doing there cleared my hazy mind. This time, I snapped my lids open, my body instantly tensed, and I raised my head to see Dash, fully dressed, sitting in a cozy style chair drawn near my side of the bed. A detail I didn't remember from the night before.

The textbook in his lap held his concentration. Lost to the pages as he turned one over another. He deserved to be on the pages of GQ magazine with the way he dressed: neat slacks and a color-coordinated sweater pullover, jewelry around his neck, bracelets and a watch at his wrists. The impeccable style of his hair, something I'd noticed yesterday, made him seem untouchable to the common man. I lifted further, looking past him to the sunlight filtering through the window.

Damn. I had to hit the road before the day progressed any farther.

In a single motion, I flung the bedspread aside and planted my feet on the floor. I rubbed my eyes, trying to let go of the sleep. "What time is it? I gotta go."

"It's two thirty," Dash said, unfolding from his seat, closing the book. It landed heavily on the bed. "I brought your bag inside." His nod led me to the floor by the sofa across the room.

I stretched my arms above my head, yawning again, sure I hadn't heard him right. "What time?"

"Two thirty in the afternoon," Dash stated calmly, better enunciating each word.

What the fuck? Instantly awake, I got to my feet. Was this a joke? I scanned the room for a clock. Dash stood, wiping at the wrinkle in his slacks.

"I rise early. I don't sleep until two in the afternoon."

"Two thirty," Dash said, correcting me with a broad grin and putting his hands on his hips. "I was unsure what to do. I wasn't quiet while dressing and got up about eight this morning. I called your name several times and shook your foot and arm, but you turned away and stayed asleep. I decided you needed the rest. I've been sitting here studying since. Do you want coffee?"

Shit. "I gotta get on the road." I started past Dash to grab my duffle to dress.

"You can shower. It's ready for you. I've packed. I'll gather my textbooks…"

"Where're you goin'?" I asked, tossing the strap over my shoulder. Dash had bent to gather two books off the floor when our eyes locked.

"I'm going with you," he said as if I were the dumbest person ever and stood to his full height.

"No, you can't do that." For two, maybe three spellbinding seconds, I got lost in all that stood before me. He was just so damn well put together. I gave a forceful shake of my head to clear it of all the nonsense. "I'm goin' back alone. I'm not opposed…"

"No way, Beau," Dash said with authority. "If you leave here alone, you won't come back. Your head's not in the right place." He tossed additional books, one after another on the end of the bed. "I'll tag along as your friend. I promise no boundary-pushing, but in private, we need to discuss the future. A road trip to and from Alabama is a great amount of time to figure it out."

Dammit, there he went again. With a groan, I dropped my head back between my shoulder blades, this time, not near as intrigued with the ceiling tiles as before. Why did we keep going in circles? We talked forever last night. What more did we have to discuss? Nothing, that's what. I left him there and started for the bathroom. "I'm goin' back alone, Dash. There's no place for you there."

"I disagree." Of course he did.

I sent the bathroom door flying shut to end the conversation. I said what I said, and meant it, but never received the satisfying sound of the door hitting the frame's two-by-fours. Dash's hand slapped against the hard wood, bouncing it back on me.

"Give me ninety days. You've said you have no plans yet for the future. Allowing us three months to see if we're compatible shouldn't be a problem."

What? Of course we were compatible. That had always been our problem.

"You can get a job around here. We owe each other a chance at a future."

"You don't owe me anything," I shot back, but dammit if he didn't cut me off again.

"Then you owe me." The condemning words fell like a gauntlet between us.

Well, dammit. He managed to turn the tables on me again. Compassion, as foreign a feeling as happiness, centered me. Pfft. More like knocked me on my ass. I remembered my last thoughts before falling asleep. I hadn't considered his well-being. Always only mine. He was my savior, but I was never his.

Shame triple-timed it to the forefront. I couldn't look him in the eyes, and finally turned my head around, dropping my bag on the bathroom floor. I twisted the shower faucet on the wall. Only a clear half-glass door separated the shower from the rest of the room. It wasn't a small bathroom. Hell, it wasn't a small shower.

"Scott's gettin' married on Wednesday. I need to be there," I explained. "Monday, I have to be in Mobile to finalize the will and handle the money distribution." I lifted my hand to the spray, testing the warmth. Of course, it was perfect.

"That's fine. I need to be back for an exam midmorning Thursday."

"Dash…" I finally ventured to look at him again.

"No, not going to happen. I have zero faith you'll return." He rebelliously crossed his arms as his shoulder hit the doorframe. "Ninety days. It seems a fair deal. If we can't make it work, then you can go begin a life without me."

My internal barriers began to crumble. He'd see soon enough. "I'm Scott's best man. I have to stay through Wednesday night."

"We'll fly home early Thursday morning. I'll handle the arrangements. Is the wedding a formal affair?" Dash asked, pushing off the frame.

"I'll wear blue jeans, probably a nice shirt if I have one. It's at Scott's folks place, next door to where I grew up."

Dash vanished from view. I dropped my shorts and underwear to the floor then stepped directly under the hot spray. The showerhead and hard spray earned itself a gold star.

"So, a sports coat?" Dash called loudly, drawing my attention through the foggy glass half door of the shower. There he stood, in the middle of the bathroom, staring at my naked ass. Of course he'd have no sense of personal boundaries.

"Or a sweater like you're wearin' now," I said just as loud. My palm slashed across the glass to see Dash's slightly raised single brow questioning the sincerity of my suggestion. Maybe he found his answer, and pivoted around, leaving me to finish.

Oh man, he had some quirky habits.

I made quick work in the shower then dried off. I placed my bag on the closed toilet seat. Based on the fold of the ones on top, I guessed Dash had washed my clothes from yesterday. They were placed neatly on top of everything else.

To test my theory, I brought the underwear to my nose. A risky move that proved them clean, then I tugged them up my still damp legs. The jeans and a different T-shirt came next. I tossed my toiletry bag on the sink top. From there, it didn't take more than a few minutes to brush my hair away from my face, shave, and work on my teeth.

A lot of the time, I stared at the hairdryer, the cord wrapped neatly around the base. I didn't usually use a hairdryer. I barely brushed my hair. Had Dash left it for me? Did he want me to use it?

Hell. I shoved my toiletry bag back into the duffle and placed a pair of socks on top.

"What's the deal with the truck blocking my entrance to the garage?" The male voice drew my attention like a lightning crash before the thunder. Instant jealousy fisted my hand as I rolled my head toward the voice. A wall separated me from him.

Extreme emotion ripped through the cobwebs where my feelings used to be. If there was any doubt they were back, it resolved itself in this moment.

Fuck whoever was talking to Dash that way.

Rational never entered my realm as I considered that guy out there to be the same one Dash had been unfaithful with.

I left the bathroom like a bull seeing a red cape, rolling my shoulders, loosening the strain as my biceps flexed. Intimidation was the only thing I had on my mind. The newcomer, who was trim and nice-looking, definitely fitting better in Dash's world than I did, turned that attitude on me.

Seconds later a smirk quirked the corner of his mouth.

A. Smirk .

"I'm guessing he came back."

I twisted my neck to keep from snapping his.

"Chandler meet Beau. Beau, Chandler." Who cared what his name was?

"How did it happen? Did he just show up or did you know he was coming?" Chandler asked, eyeing me as critically as I eyed him. Whatever that meant.

"It's only been since last night," Dash said, casually stacking his travel gear neatly together on the end of the bed, seemingly oblivious to the tension. "I've planned to spend a few days away. We'll be back Thursday morning."

"Huh. So it's picking up where you left off…" The beginning of the sentence held confidence that fled with each syllable uttered. Good guess, guy. A real brainiac here. My hard glare continued, watching him watch me. "Is he going to beat me up?"

"No…" Dash finally glanced at me.

"His shoulders just rolled," Chandler warned. "Seriously, dude, it won't take much to knock me out." Right then I issued an oath to myself that I'd never stop working out. I'd lift until I couldn't then do it again. Both of Chandler's hands raised in surrender. "I'm out. I parked in the driveway behind your car."

With a dramatic twist that I didn't like one bit, he left as fast as he came.

My head swiveled toward Dash in astonishment. "Is that who you've been sleepin' with?"

"What?"

I wasn't buying Dash's fake confusion. Wah . Dash wanted us to be together forever. Have to have forever, nothing less... Then he fucks that guy?

"No…"

If he went for guys like that, what was he doing with me? "Because you can do better…"