Seven

SEVEN

D awson left quickly after that. I sat in my office, on the floor, looking at Otto with Cami. She changed his water, gave him some new hay, and then informed me that rabbits eat their own poop.

“I could have gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“And I know that men can’t have babies.” She scowled at me. “But I also know that when you love someone, you want to have babies with them.”

“You—”

She lifted her finger just like her mother did to shut me up. “But Xola says babies can be a lot of different things.”

I sighed deeply.

“Some people want to have dogs together or cats or even ferrets.”

“Okay.”

“I think Dawson loves you, and maybe he wants to have puppies with you, but you know, you could adopt a baby too. Mrs. Chan, she lives on the other side of us, not where Henry and his dad live, but on the other side.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Well, both her kids are adopted, so you and Dawson could adopt kids too.”

“Could we talk about something else?”

“I think he’s nice, but if you want me to not like him, I won’t.”

God. “No. You do what you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Because I really want to learn how to play the guitar.”

“I know.”

“Okay, good,” she said, and I could hear it in her voice that she was pleased. Cami liked it when things were settled.

Twenty minutes later, Cami was doing the thing where she was using me as a backrest as I lay on my stomach, resting my head on my folded arms. I was trying to keep my eyes open, but she was reading to me The Hundred and One Dalmatians by Dodie Smith. It was very soothing, lulling, and she had started because she wanted me to understand how much better it was than the movie. I believed her, the book was always better, but she was proving it to me partly because she needed me to know, deep in my soul, and partly because she liked to read aloud and do different voices. When Prue came in a few minutes later, she talked quietly to Otto for a moment before getting a pillow off the couch in my office, another for me—which I thanked her for—and then settled in to listen to the story.

After a few minutes, Prue said, “You read really good.”

“Thank you,” Cami told her friend. “And I read really well , not good. This is why you got an eighty-six on the grammar test.”

Prue nodded.

I lost track of what was going on for a bit but then woke up briefly during the twilight barking. “I’m listening.” I let Cami know.

“Shh, Prue is liking the book.”

I was quiet after that, my head turned away from her, still following the story.

“Prue, honey.”

Cami stopped reading.

“Aw, Dad, it’s getting really good.”

“I’m sorry, but we need to go get ready. It turns out your mother and I are taking Chris, and Cami’s mom, to an event with us tonight.”

“Nuh-uh,” Cami told him. “Chris is watching me. We’re taking Otto home, and then we’re going to eat dinner and watch movies. That’s what we do when he sits me. Usually my mama cooks for us, but she didn’t have time, so we’re getting pizza.” She fidgeted while talking, accidentally pulling my shirt up. It was getting colder at night now, not horrible, only in the mid-forties, but for us, in the great state of Louisiana, that was like the arctic. I felt the air hit my skin and wished she would move or get me a blanket.

“Oh no, honey, Chris and…Chris and your mom are coming with us.”

“Okay,” she agreed quickly.

“That’s it?” he teased her.

“Mama says never to argue when you know you’re right, just wait and be mindful.”

“I don’t…”

I yawned, rolling over so Cami was forced to move as I sat up, and rubbed my left eye.

“Don’t do that,” she scolded me just as I had her a million times. “You’ll make it all red.”

I was standing up by the time Georgine and Nicole walked through the door.

“There you are,” Nicole said, smiling at her husband as she walked over and slipped her arm through his. “We need to get home and change. Georgine’s going to meet us at the event. I called for a ticket for her and her plus-one, Seth Rafkin.”

I shot Georgine a look, and her answering one told me to keep my mouth shut. It would be nice if the widowed father and single mother could finally achieve liftoff with their romance. I’d never seen two people more smitten with one another who refused to take a step forward. And I knew why—neither wanted to mess up their friendship or that of their children. They were both being so very careful. Too careful, in my opinion.

“Seth sure agreed to go on short notice,” I said cheerfully.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Who’s gonna watch Henry?”

“You,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Oh yes!” Cami crowed, beyond happy. Her best friend and pizza? She was living the life. “But remember, now we hafta get the barbecue-chicken pizza, not the pepperoni and no bacon. At all.”

I nodded. “I remember.”

“Wait,” Cami said suddenly. “If Prue’s mommy and daddy are going with you, is Prue coming to our house?”

“No,” Georgine answered her daughter. “She’s going to her grandmother’s.”

“Aww.” Cami sounded disappointed, but really, Prue’s parents didn’t know me well enough to leave their kid with me. And that was fine with me.

“Okay, let’s go,” Georgine said, gesturing at me. “Get the cage. Conner’s borrowing Darcy’s Highlander to drive us.”

“Lemme go talk to Simone real quick,” I said and made it out the door before Luke caught me, his hand tight on my bicep. “Yes?”

“I got to see some of your lovely golden skin,” he whispered. “I’d love to see a lot more.”

He had been flirty before, but now he’d made himself crystal clear about what he wanted. His willingness to cheat on his wife, and therefore his daughter was so disheartening, my stomach actually hurt.

“Hey now,” came from behind us.

We both turned, and there was Dawson, changed and showered as well, as evidenced by his damp hair. He’d been in what I thought of as his rocker clothes earlier, the leather jacket, vintage Doors T-shirt, black jeans, harness boots, and the black leather belt with the large buckle designed to make you check out his groin. All of it obvious, what he used to call his uniform.

Now he was in a long-sleeve, light-weight cashmere sweater, dark, tight khaki chinos, and Converse. He looked ready to relax, hang out somewhere, and—no.

Sometimes it took my brain a second to boot up.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him as he reached me and Luke.

“Came back to help carry all Cami’s loot,” he answered before his gaze slid from me to the man still holding on to my arm. “And there’s rabbit accoutrement as well.”

“What?”

“Otto’s stuff,” he translated for me, squinting. “You never heard that word?”

Before I could say anything, Cami was there.

“I have,” she informed him.

“That’s funny that Chris didn’t know it,” he said, shooting me a grin.

“He doesn’t know memes either,” she told him with a shake of her head, “and he can’t work TikTok.”

He stage-gasped. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “The club has one that Darcy puts things on, and I had to show him how to like stuff and comment.”

They both looked at me with similar expressions, like I was sad.

“You know what?—”

“May I have a quick word with you?” Luke asked me, still holding my bicep.

“We have to go,” Cami whined, taking hold of my hand.

“You do have a party to go to, do you not?” Dawson asked softly, flashing Prue’s father his megawatt smile that made you realize exactly whom you were looking at. Not only did the man have a silvery voice—that could be both low and husky, heartbreakingly soulful, but also silky and filled with yearning—but he was drop-dead gorgeous. “I saw your lovely wife when I came in, and she seemed to want to get going.”

Luke let me go like I had the plague and darted back into my office for his daughter.

“Why are you here?” I asked Dawson.

“Because Georgine said I could help you babysit the kids tonight.”

I shook my head.

“See, she doesn’t know me, only knows what I confessed to her and Simone and Darcy and Xola earlier today.”

“What was that?”

“I told them I returned because this was my home, because you’re my home, and I want to make amends for the pain I caused and win you back.”

“I—”

“Aww,” Cami said softly, leaning into his side like she normally did with me.

“You have a soft heart, love,” he whispered, giving her a squeeze.

Then they were both looking at me with big puppy dog eyes.

I cleared my throat. “I need to speak with Simone real quick. Start getting the stuff loaded.”

“The accoutrement ,” Cami said, giggling.

I nearly ran down the hall to the front, where Simone was leaning on the bar.

“Hi,” she greeted me cheerfully.

“You let him sublet your apartment?”

“It’s like Christmas came early. And I’m going to gather up all that money and give it to you in probably six months with what I already have saved, and then you won’t be tied down to the club anymore.”

“I like being tied down to the club.”

“I know, but you also need to travel and see the world, and you can do that when you have a partner, and now you have someone to go with.”

I scowled at her. “I thought you hated him.”

“I did,” she said flatly. “He hurt you terribly, but it turns out, he hurt himself too. And he learned a lot, and rehab was not easy, and as soon as he could, he came right back here.”

“And you’re prepared to take all this, him, at face value.”

She tipped her head. “He bared his soul to the four of us. It was painful to listen to. It was like watching a TV show that makes you so uncomfortable, you have to leave the room, not for blood or gore or too much bad sex, but because you can put yourself in the character’s place and you just wanna die.”

My sigh was long.

“Will I be watching him like a hawk?” she asked me, smiling. “You know I will. But I remembered when he was talking to us earlier—and holding my hand right before he said he wanted to catch up with you—that I used to be terribly fond of him myself.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. That’s about it.”

“And why isn’t he singing tonight?”

“Because I need to make a big deal and pack this place starting tomorrow.”

“That’s smart.”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

“And Georgine was fine just letting him watch Cami with me tonight?”

“Georgine is an excellent judge of character, as you know, and again, he is—” She stopped suddenly, her voice going out on her as her eyes filled. “He’s absolutely aware of his failings. I think they teach you how to articulate all that in rehab.”

I wiped a tear off her cheek. “Boy, has he got you fooled.”

She scoffed. “When have I ever been fooled? By anyone?”

Good point.

“Speaking of, what’s with Nicole’s husband, he of the roving eye?”

I had to smile. “No, he didn’t.”

“He was very complimentary of my boots and leggings while he checked out my ass.”

“Good God.”

“That was always one of Dawson’s best qualities—his inability, like my Michael, to see anyone but the person he loves.”

“Loved,” I amended.

“ Loves ,” she corrected. “Don’t be dumb. I can see you being careful and making him wait, but a man who repents and will jump through whatever hoops you require, that’s a pretty good start.”

It was.

“Over there,” she said suddenly, and when I turned, Merle and Conner were putting up our summer fans.

“What is happening? We just put those all away.”

“Yes, I know, but Luther’s coming by to sage everything, so we have to move the air around, otherwise the smell will linger into tomorrow and that’s all I need after the gospel group is this place smelling like a Catholic church.”

“You can’t sage in here.”

“Not me, Luther. Are you listening?”

“No, I mean?—”

“We’re closing early so Georgine can go to the thing and so we can get some cleaning and rearranging done and Luther can sage. He’s getting all the bad juju out, and there’s apparently some dreamcatchers or something he needs to hang.”

“So you’re fine with us losing sales tonight.”

“We have no live music tonight, so it’s fine. I sent Elsa and Thad out to make posters and hang them up, and as I said, I updated the website. It was fun to put Grammy award winner Dawson West and the Dregs on our Instagram and TikTok.”

I shook my head at her.

“I could have left that for you, but…you and technology? Not so much.”

“I have to go now.”

She smiled at me. “Have fun babysitting.”

“You’re mean.”

Instant squint at me. “This is new?”

“You’re just letting Luther right in to sage our entire place.”

“Not the kitchen. I already told him that.”

Throwing up my arms, I went back down the hall, only to pass Luke and Prue and Cami walking by.

“I’m coming right back,” Cami informed me.

When I reached my office, I realized that everything had been moved but the rabbit, whose cage Dawson was surveying.

“Don’t lift it. I’ll move it,” I told him.

“We could do it together,” he suggested, “so you’re not broken later.”

When I had crossed to him, he lifted his head, and I was going to say something, tell him he didn’t have to waste his night watching two kids who were basically self-sufficient and where all I had to do was eat and watch movies, but then…I caught him without his smile, with nothing but longing in his eyes.

I froze.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding worried, scared.

I’d seen it, the ache, the desperation, how tight he was holding himself together. Because yes, he’d hurt me terribly. But at the moment, he was wounded, newly out of rehab, and apparently, even before he’d gone in, he was counting on being with me when he got out. And yes, he needed to be his own lifeline, but hurting him wasn’t doing anything for either of us.

“Come here.”

I heard his breath catch as he stared at me, unmoving.

“No? You don’t want to?”

He closed the space between us, and I took hold of his hand. I watched him try and stand still even as he trembled slightly.

“Maybe,” I said softly, “let’s start with being friends again.”

He nodded quickly.

“And I’ll have some faith and listen, and you can keep showing up.”

“That would be… That would be great.”

“Okay,” I murmured, and wrapped him in my arms. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone who needed a hug more.

He melted against me, and I felt the shudder run through him as he clutched me tight, holding on, pressing his face into my shoulder, giving me his weight.

“Friends is a good place to start,” I told him.

“It is,” he agreed, his voice cracking. “But so you know, I remember everything. Every kiss, every time you held my hand, every time you held me down, how it felt when you looked at me like I was yours.”

“Dawson…”

“I will be your friend, I will be whatever you want, but just keep in the back of your mind, all the time, every day going forward, that I wanna be more. I need to be your guy. I want my lover back. I want my home back. And I will put in the time, I will take whatever you need to give me, just don’t send me away. I can’t go away.”

He shook his head when he said that last bit, as though even contemplating leaving again was simply too much.

“You’re breaking my heart, Sonny.”

“You think I’m pathetic because I need you more than you need me.”

“No,” I said emphatically because I wanted him to hear the truth. “It’s very brave to admit what you need. I envy that.”

“And what do you need?”

“From you?”

“From life.”

“I’ll have to think about that.”

He nodded but then said, “Tell the truth. You told me I was brave, and now it’s your turn.”

“I want a partner,” I admitted, leaning back so I could see his face. “Someone to love.”

His smile was huge. “Okay. Here I am.”

I scoffed. “We tried that already.”

“We haven’t tried it when I’m all grown up and know what there is to lose.”

“So you get to screw up and you get a do-over?”

“I hope so,” he whispered, leaning back into me. “If I’m really lucky.”

I had no idea what to say.

“And if you take a chance on me, then you get the new improved model,” he boasted.

It was kind of him to banter with me, to relieve the pressure right then. Allow us both time to breathe.

“I need to go now,” Georgine yelled from down the hall. “Everybody and the rabbit, get in the car!”

“This is stupid,” I grumbled, stepping away from Dawson to squat down next to the cage. “That’s your side.”

“Why am I walking backward?”

“Because I’ll have more of the weight that way.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Just grab your side.”

We had the cage lifted and moving in moments.

“You see how much better this is?” he asked me.

It was. No argument there.

“I’m sure you had better things to do tonight than watch kids with me.”

He smiled. “Just like earlier when I went with you to get Cami, all I want is to be with you, Chris. Whenever I can, however I can, I’ll be there.”

How earnest he was, the look on his face, in his eyes, I could read him easily, and all I could see was hope.

“Well, you’re gonna be bored,” I apprised him.

“Probably not, but I wanna show you how great I am at watching kids.”

“Why would I care about that?”

“For when you wanna have babies with me.”

“Oh God,” I groaned. “Listen, for the record, she knows that?—”

“I don’t care. She clearly gets me, and that’s all that matters. Plus, you love her, and I’m going to teach her how to play the guitar, so how golden am I?”

I could feel the fractures in the walls around my heart, that was how much I was thinking about him and how shiny he’d become in a very short time.

“Now come on,” he urged. “I’ve gotta get you fed before you completely lose all your patience.”

“I am really hungry,” I confessed.

“Yes, I know.”

I wasn’t about to tell him how much I enjoyed him caring. As much as I meant to all my friends and the people I worked with, no one was focused solely on me. I missed that, and here he was, wanting to take care of me. Crazy to think he was the same guy, filled with memories of me, how I was, what I needed, my likes and dislikes, but now changed so that I was his priority.

“You’re not gonna be able to say no to me much longer,” he whispered.

And that was probably very true.

Georgine’s home had been listed as a condo when she originally went to look at it, but all I saw was the cute little historical home on Saint Louis that had been recently renovated. The small stairs that went up from the street to the pale-green house with red shutters, the original corbels Georgine loved but I didn’t understand the lure of. We had them at the club too, frou-frou pieces that helped support the roof. And they probably didn’t—corbels appeared more decorative than anything else—but they were always listed like they were a big deal. There were also ironwork window guards, which were at least interesting to look at. So from the outside, it was pretty, but the inside, to me, was the treat.

Wooden floors, fireplaces, crystal chandeliers I told Cami were made of diamonds, and a huge chef’s kitchen. Originally, there were two entrances, but Georgine turned the second doorway into windows and put in more of the wrought-iron guards. I liked it better now, and that was where Cami and Henry sat a lot of the time, on the steps together, contemplating whether they wanted to walk to the park or play in the courtyard in the back, the open gate there connecting Georgine’s home with Seth’s.

Once Dawson and I carried in Otto, taking him to Cami’s room, where I put him on the floor near her reading nook—complete with window seat, throw pillows, and a light machine—I came back out into the living room, where I was pleased to see that Dawson had brought in everything else. Cami’s loot was there, and she was already showing it off to Henry—black-haired, blue-eyed, with adorable wire-rimmed glasses. Cami, with her voluminous curly afro and big brown eyes, a miniature Georgine, was explaining to him all about stickers you put at the edge of your eyes to make them pretty.

“Okay,” he agreed because that was his way.

Cami went to work on stickering them both up.

“Don’t you just love my house?” Georgine prodded Dawson. “Isn’t it charming?”

“It is,” he agreed, sounding wistful. “I love it.”

She was smiling at him.

“There’s a lot of light.”

“Are you going to get a house here?”

He grimaced. “No. I learned my lesson the first time.”

“What happened?”

“Electric guitar amp,” he explained. “Once I write a song, I have to play it, and sometimes that’s at, like, two in the morning.”

“Which can get noisy for your neighbors.”

“Exactly. That’s why Simone’s place is perfect. It’s soundproof, which, if someone is trying to murder me will suck, but for writing music, is great.”

“Murder you?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I’ve only had a few stalkers, but the third one got into the bus when we were on the road. I had the flu, and he came out of the bathroom… It was spooky for a second, but Enoch is a black belt in karate, so that was the end of that. Cami said she does karate. I’m sure E will wanna come see her tournaments.”

She nodded. “I would love that.” And then she did a slow turn to me and mouthed the words I love him .

I squinted at her. That was not helping at all.

“So…Chris is starving. Is it okay if I get the pizza ordered, or is it too early for the kids to eat?”

“No, now is fine,” she assured him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t cook for you.”

“There will be other times,” he told her. “Like, say, tomorrow night. We usually do two sets and take a break between them. There’s five of us, so if that’s too much, we can just?—”

“Not at all,” she said, smiling at him. “I’ll have you guys try my new recipes. That’s fantastic.”

“Just keep in mind that we’re all kind of spice guys.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning what’s hot for other people is like nothing to us.”

“Is that right?”

He nodded, grinning at her.

“You and the band, you all like spicy food?”

“Yeah,” he said, then walked over to the kids. “What kind of pizza are we wanting?”

Georgine turned to me. “I am going to blow their heads off tomorrow with my jambalaya.”

“I dunno.”

“You don’t know?”

I gestured at Dawson. “He’s not kidding. Normally just smelling what he orders makes my nose hairs burn.”

“I see,” she said evilly.

“Don’t kill the band. We need them to make with the live music and all.”

“I make no promises,” she teased as Cami and a now sparkly Henry told Dawson, their voices overlapping, what kind of pizza they wanted, along with garlic bread and dipping sauces.

“Are you supervising that?” Georgine asked me.

“I will, yes. Now will you go change, please. Seth will be over shortly.”

She left with an under-her-breath comment about how much Cami liked Dawson. Apparently, she had regaled her mother about learning guitar.

“What did she say?” Dawson asked as he waited for the Louisiana Pizza Kitchen to pick up.

“Nothing.”

He squinted at me. “She likes me, though, yeah?”

“Everybody likes you.”

“So tell me, has anything changed with you, or do you still like your pizza the same way?”

“You’re asking? You normally don’t.”

“Well, I used to know everything, but I’ve been gone, as you keep pointing out, so instead of assuming, I’m checking.”

The new Dawson West, confident but also thoughtful, was hard to resist. “I like everything the same.”

“Everything, you say?”

“On pizza,” I replied, scowling at him.

He was chuckling before he gave all his attention to the person on the phone as he skillfully ordered precisely what the kids had told him and then, from memory, mine. It was impressive. I was terrible with food ordering. I always forgot something. But not Dawson.

When Georgine came back to the living room, where the very handsome, very dashing Seth Rafkin was waiting in his Hugo Boss suit—still a bit overwhelmed that Dawson West was in his friend’s house—all three of us gasped.

“Wow,” Dawson said softly, admiring the stunning woman in the navy-blue dress. “Someone should write a song about the way you look tonight.”

She smiled, reached out and took his hand, then turned to me. “Oh yes, I see the appeal. Feel free to keep him with my blessing.”

“That’s not helping,” I told her.

She shrugged, then turned to Seth. He took her hand in his and didn’t let go, and her answering smile was luminous. He worshipped her, and she adored him. I had no idea what they were waiting for.

“Hey,” Dawson said to Georgine, and tipped his head at Seth. “He’s good. Feel free to keep him with my blessing.”

Her flush was instant, but she looked at Dawson like maybe she understood something now. Sometimes it took someone different to open your eyes.

Seth and Georgine hugged and kissed their kids and thanked us. As soon as they were out the door, Henry and Cami turned to us. Dawson looked a bit concerned.

“The requests will commence now,” I explained with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Since I had his attention, he startled when he found both kids standing in front of him, staring.

“You two are freaking me out.”

“Would you teach me how to play the guitar too?” Henry asked.

Dawson’s eyes flicked to mine.

I only smiled.

“In for a penny,” he murmured.

I put my fingers on my temples. “I see you teaching small children how to hold chords during the winter break.”

“As long as you’re there with me, I’ve got no issues with that.”

“Wait, when did I get roped in?”

“Now,” he teased me as the kids ran to the kitchen to start getting their drinks ready. “We’re gonna be bound at the hip.”

And that didn’t sound too bad.

Later, after Georgine and Seth got back, her gushing about all the networking she’d done at the gala, Seth saying the same—everyone needed accounting help—Georgine sent us on our way. She needed some alone time with her date. They had things to discuss.

As we started walking, Dawson said, “I’d love to show you my new place.”

“I’ve already seen Simone’s loft a hundred times.”

“Then we’ll walk to your apartment,” he offered.

“I’m not ready to have you in my apartment.”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, taking my hand. “Doesn’t this remind you of the epic three-hour stroll we took the night we met?”

“I refuse to walk down memory lane with you.”

“Why not? It was right around Christmas as well, don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember.”

“You were buying that really ugly tree because you felt sorry for it.”

“I think you’re remembering things that?—”

“I’m gonna sing Christmas songs for you every night in the set because you love them all so much.”

I looked away because that was one of those secrets that only the man who had slept in my bed, next to my Christmas tree, and had crooned songs to me in the middle of the night would know.

“Hey,” he rumbled, stopping our walk, which I could tell was heading toward Royal Street, where I lived. “Look at me.”

It took me a moment because I had to wipe away stupid tears before I could.

“Oh, honey, why the tears?”

“I just…” It was hard to form the words.

“I’m gonna walk you home, and that’s all. I promise. That’s what friends do. No pressure, no expectations, just you and me.”

The problem was, I didn’t want us to be friends. Or, I did, just not only friends. It was so hard not to touch him, not to put my arm around him. All I wanted was to be close to him.

“It would be nice to talk,” I confessed.

“It really would,” he agreed. “And you have that great fireplace and those cozy couches and all those blankets.”

“The fireplace is at Simone’s place—your place,” I reminded him. “And I don’t have any blankets and whatnot.”

“You don’t?”

I glared at him. He was being obtuse on purpose.

“What? I can’t help it if I ordered things today and had them delivered to my place because I know you like thick blankets and lots of throw pillows and getting all snuggled up.”

“My place is better.”

“Because we can snuggle up better there?”

“I don’t think snuggling is on the agenda.”

“No? Because you like to do that, and I like to do that, and it’s gonna be cold tonight, so…blankets and a fire, and we could stop for pie.”

I exhaled sharply.

“You don’t want pie?”

“Of course I want pie.”

His smile was huge. “I can’t wait to hear everything you did since I saw you last.”

“It’s boring as hell.”

“No,” he whispered, lifting my hand and kissing my knuckles. “Nothing about you is boring. Not to me.”

“You’re killing me with this.”

“With what?”

“I dunno… You’re just gonna be patient and not push?”

He squeezed my hand. “What does pushing get me? I want you back in my life in every way. Right now you’ve agreed to trust me, to be my friend. I will take that and run with that and be the best buddy you?—”

“I don’t wanna be your buddy,” I confessed, staring at him, at everything I wanted but was afraid to have.

He looked like I hit him, his breath catching as he took a step back.

“No,” I rushed out, reaching for him, taking his face in my hands. “I mean, I don’t want to be just your buddy. I want more than that.”

His exhale of relief, followed by the full-body tremor, told me I’d scared him.

“I’m sorry, Sonny. I’m not great at this.”

“That’s okay,” he soothed me, hands on my wrists, making sure I couldn’t move away. “We’ll be terrible together because really, all I want is your time.”

I nodded. “You have it.”

He took a breath. “And maybe a kiss. Just one for welcome home, just for you’re happy to see me. It doesn’t need to mean that you’re gonna give me another chance or anything.” His gaze searched mine, so hopeful, so full of yearning.

When I wrapped my hand around his throat, he whispered oh and then please as I tipped his head back and kissed him. I had to taste him, to see if it was the same, if he was really still mine.

His lips parted, and I was there, tasting him, my tongue pressing, rubbing, tangling with his, taking control. I took and he gave, the dance so engrained, so familiar, and his hands went up under my T-shirt, touching all my skin he could reach as he tried to get closer.

I kissed him with all the pent-up longing that had haunted my days, the hunger I felt just looking at him, and the homecoming I dreamed of where he was mine again. When I pushed him back, bumping him gently into the door of a closed jewelry store, I realized all I wanted was him, seduced, undressed, devoured in my bed, and because that’s not where we were, I pulled back.

Breaking the kiss, needing to catch my breath, I noted that his pupils were blown, and he was staring at me with eyes even darker than usual.

“You’ll come home with me, yes?” he asked, licking his lips, tasting me there.

“Yes,” I barely got out.

“Good,” he whispered, his shivering happiness so good to see. “I don’t know where to get pie anymore, so…” He offered me his hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”

I took a deep breath and then his hand. “You’re gonna wear me down with this, how slow you’re moving.”

“I don’t wanna wear you down, and I don’t want you to take me back just because it’s Christmas and you don’t want to be alone for the holidays. I want?—”

“It’s not Christmas,” I grumbled, grabbing hold of his hand to get us moving, making sure it was tight in mine. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll try? You’ll give me—us—a chance?”

I nodded.

“I need words here, Christopher,” he pressed me.

“Yes,” I promised. “We’ll try. Both of us.”

He lunged at me, and I was wrapped tightly in arms around my waist, his face pressed to the hollow of my throat. He exhaled, the longest sigh I ever heard. “Oh, Chris, honey, you’re not gonna regret this. I will make you very happy, I swear. No more tears over me ever. No, sir, just sunshine and blue skies and—oh no, wait.”

I smiled into his hair, wrapping him in my arms.

“I meant dark skies, and rain, and falling leaves, and smoke from fires, and lots of blankets, and cold, cold days.”

“Better,” I said, chuckling.

“And for the record, I don’t need to try , all right?” He leaned back to look at me, not pulling away, though, content to stay close to me. “I know what I want. Because you’re my home, and I used to think it, in my head, but now I know it in my heart.”

I smiled at him. “It sounds like a song.”

“It’s many. Actually all of them. My next record is your love letter.”

Suddenly, I could barely breathe.

“I hope you like ballads, because that’s all I seem to be able to write.”

“Sonny,” I began, but had no idea what to say.

The smile lit up his face. “I can’t wait for you to hear them.”

I couldn’t either.

“Maybe I’ll play you one at home.”

There was no missing him calling his place home. “I would love that.”

“Good,” he murmured, and lifted for a kiss.

Another kiss that spoke to want and need and craving, but also deeper feelings, steady ones, solid ones.

“I dreamed about this,” he said when he had to breathe, smiling against my mouth.

“So have I,” I admitted, and his answering crow of happiness made me smile.

And then he was back to holding me, and I realized I could never pull away, not from him. Not ever. But that was all right. It was perfect, really. I was ready to see what our future would bring. And if he held on to me for the rest of my life, that just might be long enough.