Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jonas

Footsteps sounded on the basement steps, and I knew exactly who it was before I turned from my place on the couch, especially once I heard the snick of the door lock.

"You're back." Despite whatever complicated emotions I'd been warring with the past few days, my chest lifted and my step lightened as I rushed over to greet Declan.

"I am." Declan hesitated at the bottom of the basement stairs. He looked undecided about whether to kiss me, so I decided for us both and offered a hug with outstretched arms. Exhaling gratefully, he settled into my embrace. "Were you asleep? It's later than I'd hoped."

"I was pretending to read." I kissed the top of his head. Reading simply wasn't the same without him around. I'd helped Rowan fold towels, walked Oz, called the hospital to check on Marissa Darcy who was continuing to make good progress in ICU, and otherwise tried to keep busy while waiting. "I tried watching a movie earlier but kept losing track of the plot. Guess I don't do downtime well."

Declan raised an eyebrow. "Surprised you didn't pick up a shift."

"Me too. I could have. But I said no." I wasn't telling him to score points but rather to acknowledge that I had been working too much. One of the dating apps that I'd tried in the past liked to talk about love languages, and while I thought they pretty much all applied to me, Declan was definitely someone who valued time and undivided attention. I hadn't done the best at offering that the past few weeks. "I wanted to see you more than I wanted to work. I would have volunteered to pick you up, but your dad jumped on that. Didn't want to make it awkward."

"Thanks." Declan offered a crooked smile. "Dad and I…uh…had a good talk on the way back." Something about Declan's uncertainty put me on edge, but I let him continue. "That's why I'm later than expected. We stopped for dinner."

"I'm glad you had time with your dad." I wasn't about to get jealous over Declan being late because of family time.

"I told him. About us. And me being queer, all that."

"You what?" Releasing Declan from my embrace, I fell into a coughing fit. "Should I expect pistols at dawn?"

"No one's dueling." Declan rubbed my back. "And he's not mad. Skeptical maybe, but not mad, and not at you."

"At you?" I asked warily.

"No, not at me either." Declan steered me toward the couch, probably worried I was about to topple over from this news. And maybe I was. I sat before pulling Declan down next to me. "I think he was still reeling from me coming out when I sprung us on him too."

"Did you plan to tell him?" I peered closely at Declan, trying to suss out his mental state.

"Yeah. Rehearsed the whole plane ride." He gave a self-conscious chuckle.

"My overthinker." I tugged him back into my arms.

"It's funny. I've spent ten years building up coming out as this enormous deal. And in the end, it was pretty damn easy, at least with my dad. He loves me."

"As do a lot of people." Myself included, but this wasn't the moment to reveal that.

"I'm…um…not sure when I'll go public." Declan looked down at his hands. "I told Dad he could tell Denver and my sister. I'm calling my mom tomorrow. And?—"

"Little steps. It's okay." I needed to be happy he'd done this much and set aside my own worries and desires for a moment. He'd come out to Sean, which was a huge deal and, frankly, unexpected. No way was he coming out to his team or the public any time soon. "When do you go back to Arizona?"

"It's not okay." Frowning, Declan turned to stare me down. "I don't want to be a secret any longer."

"There's a difference between secret and private." I tried to sound mature, but all I earned was a scoff from Declan.

"Not much." He shook his head, continuing to glower. "I eventually want to be public. No more hiding from anyone. And I don't know on going back."

"What do you mean?" My stomach clenched around a ball of conflicting emotions. "I saw the video of you riding. Sure looked like the doctor cleared you."

"The doctor did." Declan shrugged, sounding pretty damn casual for someone who had received news he'd waited four months for. "But I'm taking the season off."

"You're what? No. No, you're not." I waved away the very notion.

"I am. Done deal." Declan shot me his most stubborn expression, chin out, eyes icy blue.

"You're taking off because you don't want to come out publicly yet?" I didn't care how done of a deal this was. I couldn't allow Declan to decide his future based on an ultimatum I hadn't made.

"No." He put his hands on my shoulders, meeting my gaze. "I'm not going to lie and say that our relationship isn't a factor, but it's a small one. Mainly, it's that I'm scared to ride."

"You're scared?" It was a word I'd never once associated with Declan. For better or worse, he was the most fearless person I knew. Even in the hospital, he'd been ready to return to riding, his only fear being the doctors not clearing him. "You're scared of another concussion or injury?"

"Yeah." Declan sounded far away, as if he were still working some of this out for himself. "For the first time since I started riding, I have something to live for, something I don't want to lose other than the race."

"Oh, Declan." I didn't want to think about all the years he hadn't cared enough whether he survived, only whether or not he won.

"Don't feel sorry for me," he ordered. "I had an amazing run. But when I took that first ride back with Cyrus, I was riding scared, and that's as dangerous as riding reckless. I was tense and overthinking every move."

"You? Overthinking?" I tried to joke, but inside, my brain was reeling. Declan voluntarily deciding to take time away from riding was something I hadn't ever considered.

"Yeah. And then I started overthinking the medical stuff. I want a third opinion on my TBI and concussion risk."

"That's smart. You might be able to do that before the season starts." My heart pounded. Was I really trying to talk him into racing?

"I don't want to do that. I'm not ready." Declan sounded frustrated. "I thought you'd be happy about me not racing."

"I don't know what I am," I admitted. "Your mental and physical health matters. I just don't want this thing between us to be the reason."

Maybe Declan wasn't the only scared one. I simply couldn't believe I could offer him enough to make up for the loss of racing. Terror raced through me. What if I wasn't enough? What if he was doing this for all the wrong reasons? I shuddered, and Declan frowned.

"Can't you trust me?" This time, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. "I'm not going to blame you for a decision I'm making for me. I want time to see who I am without racing."

"Who you are is pretty wonderful. With or without racing, and I support either choice." I held his face in my hands. "Don't have regrets. If you want to race without coming out yet, I understand."

"That's exactly it." Declan put his hands over mine. "I don't want regrets. I don't want to regret racing. I don't want to regret doing long distance with you and always wondering what would have happened if I stayed. I don't want to regret another concussion. The bottom line is that I need time to figure out what I do want."

"Then you'll get that time." I'd go to battle to ensure he got anything he needed, time included. "All the time you need to make a final decision."

"And it's not only time for more opinions and research on concussion risk. I want time with you. Time with myself. I want to meet who I am when I live my truth, and yeah, I can do that and race, but I want space to discover that person away from the track."

"Wow." I gazed at him with utter astonishment and pride. So much pride. How was this creature mine? "I can't wait to meet that person too."

"Trust me," he repeated before he kissed me softly. "Whoever I become, I'm still going to want you. This thing between us…" He paused to inhale sharply. "It's everything."

"It is," I agreed. "And you're everything I ever wanted. That's why it's so hard for me to trust. I can't believe you're actively choosing to be with me."

"Jonas." After making an exasperated noise, he gave me a firm kiss. "Anyone who wouldn't choose you is a damn fool. I don't want to miss out on a single minute with you."

"Me either." I kissed him back then because it was that or let him see me weep. Relief. I hadn't realized how deeply I'd assumed he wasn't coming back to me until he said he was staying. Ignoring my damp cheeks, I kissed him and kissed him until he started tugging at the hem of my black T-shirt from a blood drive a few years back.

"Off," he demanded. "Skin now."

"Shouldn't we slow down?" I asked, even as I let him drag me the few feet to the bed while shoving our clothing off.

"I think we've gone slow enough." He tossed his hoodie and T-shirt off in a single move. "Remember who I am? I'm all about the speed. And you."

"I'm all about you too." I chuckled and let him push my flannel pants down and off. "But should we talk more? About everything?"

"I don't wanna talk more right now." Declan stepped out of his jeans, naked and glorious. I loved his muscles, his freckles, his smooth skin, his hard and waiting cock. Everything. "I'm all talked out, and I missed you." He tumbled us both onto the bed. I landed on top of him, and he wriggled like a happy rabbit under me. "Missed this. Need this."

"Me too." Gratitude coursed through me right along with desire. I kissed my way down his chest to his sensitive nipples, toying with them until he was bucking under me, dragging against whatever part of my torso he could get to. "I love how responsive you are here."

I sucked one of his nipples into my mouth, strumming it with my tongue as he moaned. "Don't wanna come this way."

"I love that possibility." I chuckled darkly. "But I suppose we should give some attention to your poor, ignored cock."

I slithered lower, intent on taking him in my mouth, but I barely got a single lick out before he shoved at my shoulder. "Wait."

"Wait?" I raised an eyebrow. I'd never known him to turn down oral. "Thought you were all about fast?"

"I am, but I wanna kiss you too." Declan tugged at my arm. "Come here?"

"Yes." Frot had always been one of my favorite things, and I loved how he seemed to crave it as much as I did. I grabbed the lotion from my bedside table and slicked our cocks before settling over him.

As always, I started off a bit self-conscious of our size difference, balancing my weight mainly on my arms. Declan was having none of that and yanked me firmly against him until we were as close as two people could be, with no daylight between us, sharing the same air as we kissed, long and leisurely.

In fact, the more I let myself settle against Declan's body, the more turned on he seemed, wriggling and grinding, hooking a leg over mine to hold us even tighter together. His frantic movements did it for me too, made my cock that much harder, made me move more purposefully with him.

He ran his hands all over my back and arms, holding me tightly while making soft little moans. We were both trying to be quiet, and I kept kissing him to try to disguise our moans, but it was hard not to shout with how good this felt, how right, how my whole body burned for this man.

Declan grinned up at me, and my breath got lost somewhere in my throat. His joy was almost palpable, but the emotion in his eyes got to me the most. Connection. Caring. Gratitude. Maybe even love, which was definitely what we were making. Every kiss, every touch, every slide of our cocks against each other, every thrust, we were building and affirming that connection.

I loved the simplicity of frot, but that was also its beauty—the magnified sensations of my fuzzy chest rubbing against his, our legs tangled together, the stripe of hair on his belly against my cock, the salty-sweet taste of his lips, the rise and fall of our synced breathing.

"Jonas." Declan's voice had an urgent edge to it. "Close…"

"It's okay. Come with me."

"Yes. Together." He thrust harder against me, his cock driving into the crease of my hip. His head fell back, mouth open on a silent moan. I'd been wrong. This, this was the beauty, the ability to witness his pleasure and satisfaction as he came between us.

"Me too, baby. Me too." The extra slickness of his come always did it for me. A few more thrusts and I was coming all over his stomach.

The room smelled like sex, and I had no idea what time it was, early or late, because I was already partway asleep when Declan used one of our shirts to give the barest nod toward cleanup. He nestled in beside me, head finding its spot on my shoulder, and neither of us woke until bright sunlight filtered through the basement windows.