38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Beck

W atching Roman fall apart from my touch is something I’ll never tire of—something I’ll definitely never take for granted again. He’s a beauty beneath me, his muscles taut, his body physically shaking with his restraint, his head shaking back and forth as he fights against the inevitable. “I can’t stop it, Beck,” he whispers, voice tight and desperate.

I certainly don’t want him to. “Then don’t, beautiful,” I whisper back. He groans, his body stiffening, his cock pulsing heavily against mine as he comes. His lips part as the pleasure rushes through him, his eyes rolling back. God, he’s so perfect. I hold off on my own release until his body slumps beneath me, his muscles relaxing. The moment he’s done, I’m gone. I gasp as the pleasure I’ve been trying to hold back finally explodes, my cum joining his on his stomach and coating his softening cock.

I glance down at his stomach, at the evidence of our love streaked across his skin. My fingers itch to draw him—just like this. Covered in our combined cum, his soft cock hanging out of his jeans, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sky, moonlight reflecting off him.

I kiss him, careful to avoid the mess on his body. “Can I draw you?” I hope like hell he doesn’t tell me no. I need this moment held forever in my sketchbook like I need my next breath. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he nods at me. “Don’t move, okay? I want you like this.”

His eyes flutter open and he grins. “Whatever you want.”

I climb off him carefully, tucking myself back into my jeans before rushing to the car to grab my supplies. It’s a full moon tonight, and it’ll definitely provide enough light for me to see him clearly.

When I make it back to him, he’s still lying there, his hands resting by his sides, his face still turned to the sky, a soft smile on his lips. My breath catches, my fingers twitching.

Perfect. Just like that.

“Don’t move,” I request as I sit cross-legged beside him.

I start with the blanket beneath us, shading it in, but not giving it much detail. It isn’t the point. He is. So once I have the basic outline, I start sketching the shape of his body.

I lose myself in the process, my pencil gliding over the page, the perfection of this moment coming to life. He doesn’t move, only the rise and fall of his chest breaking his stillness.

A buoyant sense of happiness fills my chest. I thought I’d lost the ability to put pencil to paper and watch as something I love takes form. It’s already so much easier than it was yesterday morning—more natural—the shape of his body and the details of his face flowing like I never stopped doing this. It seems Roman is bringing all the things I love back to me, namely him.

“You’re smiling,” he whispers, breaking the silence of the night.

I pause and look up at him, a little surprised. “Am I?”

He nods, his expression a little shy. “Yeah, you look really happy.”

“I guess I am,” I admit softly. “You, me, this date night, drawing you… yeah, I’m really fucking happy.”

His face lights up. “We never got to take new pictures the other day.” Yeah, I guess we didn’t. “When you’re finished drawing, we can do that. I have wet wipes in the console I can use to clean up.”

Oh. I’ve been so immersed in drawing him I didn’t even think about the fact that he’s lying here covered in dry cum. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about how uncomfortable you must be.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not uncomfortable. And even if I was, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. You look so young right now. So young and so happy. Doing what you love.”

His words cause a strange pang to echo through my heart. It doesn’t feel bad. It feels an awful lot like joy. I have an almost overwhelming urge to tell him I love him. But I can’t. Not yet. I don’t know why, but the thought almost cripples me with fear. “I’ll be back, okay? I’ll go grab those wipes and get you cleaned up.”

His expression falters a little, but he nods. “Okay.”

I hold the sketchbook up, my heart pounding. “Before I go, do you want to see this?”

“Is it finished?”

“Yeah, mostly.”

He nods, so I turn the drawing to him. I still want to add more—the sky, the trees—but for now, I’ve captured him. And that’s the most important part anyway.

His eyes widen as they scan the drawing. “Wow… you’ve always been so talented, Beck.”

I couldn’t draw a single thing without him. It seems he’s still my fucking muse. “It’s the muse.”

He drags his eyes from the drawing to grin at me. He looks so much like he did when we were kids—that same spark of wonder in his eyes—that it almost stops my heart. I can’t resist leaning in to steal a quick kiss from him.

When I pull back, my heart feels too big for my chest. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods, looking a little dazed. Not that I’m much better off. I’ve hardly been able to focus since he came back. My thoughts are constantly consumed with him. Which is saying something because my thoughts were already pretty consumed with him. As I walk to the car, I glance at the sky. It really is beautiful, but we haven’t really done any stargazing. Unless you count me losing myself in the twinkle of Roman’s eyes. Everything pales in comparison to him.

I set my sketchbook in the passenger seat and grab the wet wipes from the console before heading back to him. He’s got his arms tucked under his head, his eyes trained on the sky. I sit down beside him, grab a wipe, and clean his stomach off before pulling his hoodie back down. When I glance at his face, he’s watching me.

We don’t speak, but I don’t feel like we need to. We simply stare at each other. After a few moments, Roman’s lips tilt up. “Selfie time?”

I chuckle. “Sure.”

He sits up beside me, pulling out his phone. My stomach flips at the thought of having photos of him again, a way to look into his eyes and feel close to him, even when he’s not around. If this doesn’t work out, and he leaves me again, I’ll never delete these photos or destroy my sketches. I’ve learned my lesson.

He opens the camera app and holds his arm up in the air, then turns toward me. “Well, are you gonna get in here?”

I scoot closer, pressing our sides together. When I look at the screen, my eyes are instantly drawn to the bright smile on his face. It holds me spellbound for a few moments, but when I glance at myself, there’s an equally bright smile on my face. He snaps the photo and pulls it back to look at it.

“Let’s take more,” I hear myself saying. I want all the photos—tons of them. I want us and our love immortalized. I want all these photos sent to me. I want to look at them forever.

He nods and holds his phone back up. We take picture after picture: him kissing my cheek; me kissing his; us kissing each other. Then we lie down together, with his head resting on my chest, and take even more. It’s not long before he’s straddling my waist, phone forgotten, mouth on mine, fingers tangled in my hair.

I hold his body close to mine, soaking in his warmth, breathing in his scent, losing my fucking mind over the taste of him. “I missed you so much,” I breathe against his lips. He lets out a soft, sad noise and kisses me harder, tugging on my hair as his tongue dips into my mouth.

The intensity steals my breath and has my cock hardening again. I groan as he thrusts down against me. Using my grip on his body, I pull him closer. I need him—the weight of his body, the feel of him in my arms, the soft moans he’s pouring into our kiss. All of it reminds me he’s here. He’s real.

He pulls back with a gasping breath, tucking his face into my throat. My hands brush along his back as we try to catch our breath.

After a few moments, he raises his head to look down at me. “I missed you too. Every minute of every day that I was gone.”

His words make my heart clench, but this time it’s not from pain. There’s a little, sure, but it’s mostly relief and happiness.

“Let’s look at the stars, beautiful,” I murmur.

He rolls off me with a sigh, but doesn’t go far. He cuddles into my side, once again resting his head on my chest. We lie quietly together, watching the stars. It’s getting colder, so Roman sits up to grab the blanket, pulling it over us before sinking back into my arms.

I turn my head, burying my face in his hair. It’s not long before the long workday mixes with the absolute comfort I feel having him in my arms, and my eyes start to drift closed.

“Beck?” Roman’s soft voice startles me, making me jump. He laughs. “Sorry. I was gonna see if you were ready to head home.”

I’m not. I don’t want this to be over. I know it’s silly—he’s here, and I can see him pretty much anytime I want—but I hate the idea of him leaving. I slept like shit last night. I’ve slept like shit for ten years. The rabbit is such a poor substitute for the man currently curled up on my chest. “Can you come with me? Stay with me again?”

“You want me to?”

“I really do.”

He sits up. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I need to text Holden, but I definitely want to.”

I nod. “Okay, text him, and I’ll start getting everything together.”

He stands, looking around for his discarded phone before finally seeing it and leaning over to pick it up.

I hop up, grabbing armfuls of blankets. I’m halfway to the car when Roman catches up to me. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“No, I’m off.” He rushes ahead of me and opens the door for me to shove everything into the back seat. When I turn back toward him, he’s nibbling on his bottom lip, looking a little nervous. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Do you think… well, would it be okay if I hung out tomorrow?” Before I can even answer, he’s rushing on. “I can go home in the morning if you’d rather me do that. I don’t have to stay past morning at a—”

I cut off his rambling with my mouth, turning his body until I can pin him against the side of the car. I missed that. His nervous rambling is just as adorable at twenty-eight as it was at eighteen. Despite the way I have him pinned against the car door, our kiss is light and chaste.

I pull back, brushing my lips against his cheek. “I’d love for you to stay tomorrow and spend the day with me.” His body relaxes, and he grins, his cute dimple making my heart skip a beat. Fuck. “Okay, let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

I know I’ll sleep like the dead tonight. There aren’t words to explain how fucking happy and relieved I am that I’ll get to have Roman in my bed all night. There’s not a better sleep in the world than the one I get when I’m with him.

I release him, and we climb into the car. The second we’re settled, he reaches across the console to take my hand. The radio is playing softly in the background, but otherwise it’s quiet, neither of us talking—we’re simply enjoying being in each other’s orbit. Or at least I know I am. I glance at Roman out of the corner of my eyes and see a soft smile on his face.

By the time we’re pulling into my driveway, it’s midnight, and I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. All I want is to collapse into bed, pull Roman into my arms, and sleep until noon.

I push open the door, trying to get out when something catches me and I glance down, chuckling to myself when I realize that I’ve still got my seatbelt on.

Roman laughs and leans over to unbuckle me. His lips touch my temple. “There you go, my sleepy baby. Let’s go in.” My heart does a slow roll, my stomach flipping. Roman calling me “baby” might actually be the death of me.

I sigh, climbing out of the car now that I’m free from the seatbelt. Roman follows suit, and hand-in-hand, we walk to my front door. The second we step into my bedroom, I waste no time stripping down, even taking my boxers off. I’m not sure how many nights I’m going to get with him, and I want to soak in every second with every inch of my body that I can.

Roman does the same, and then we’re slipping under the covers together. We roll to face each other, and he scoots closer, his head resting on my pillow—so close we’re breathing the same air. He slides his leg between mine, pressing his soft cock against my lower stomach, and shifts until his chest is flush with mine. We’re touching at every possible point. Fuck, I love this. My body relaxes, years of tension and heartache melting away. This is real. He’s really here. I get to have him again. God, I hope I get to keep him this time.

I’m almost asleep when he presses a soft kiss to my lips, then pulls back. I fall asleep with him tucked against me, our chests rising and falling in sync. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think our hearts were beating in time with each other.

It’s not noon when I wake up, but it is later than I usually sleep in. Roman is still curled against my body, his hand cupping my neck, his leg tangled through mine. I close my eyes, trying to fight back the rush of tears threatening to spill. I never thought I’d have this again. And I almost didn’t. If I had made a different choice at the hospital—if I had told him no—things would be completely different right now. I’d be hours into my day, exhausted, staring at a stuffed rabbit, mad as hell that it didn’t help me get any sleep.

I drag my fingers up his spine, relearning the lines and feel of his body. He stirs, shifting until his face is nestled against my throat. He exhales softly, his warm breath fanning across my skin. I can’t help but smile. This moment is so damn perfect.

He makes a soft, whiny noise and jolts awake, looking around the room in confusion before his eyes settle on me. Instantly, he relaxes, his entire body melting back into my side.

I brush my fingers across his shoulder blade. “Good morning.”

He hums sleepily. “Mornin’.”

“How do you feel about getting out into the world today?” I feel bad about the way I treated him in the coffee shop before. I want to change that. I want to apologize to Mia, too. I haven’t been back since that day.

“Depends. What do you have in mind?” His voice is drowsy, and it brings a smile to my face. I’ve got my arms full of a sleepy Roman. Is there anything better than this?

“I was thinking we could go get coffee. Well, I can get coffee, and you can get whatever sugar-filled atrocity you want for breakfast.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay. Perfect. As soon as I get the motivation to stop holding you and get out of this warm bed, we’ll go.”

Roman’s singing along to the radio as we drive toward the bakery, and I’m trying to convince myself that him sitting in my passenger seat isn’t a hallucination. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him . I feel like a broken record at this point, but I can’t help it. I didn’t sleep until noon, but we didn’t get out of bed until noon either. Why would I want to? If my choices are the cool fall air or touching and kissing him, I’m picking the latter every time.

It’s the strangest thing. I didn’t realize how much I was drowning without him, but now that he’s here, it feels like I can take a full breath again. I knew that missing him sucked—hell, I’ve been hurting for close to a decade—but until the weight of missing him lifted from my chest, I hadn’t realized how much it was holding me down.

Roman shifts in his seat, turning slightly to look at me. “You know. I’ve only been here the one time. When I ran into you.”

Ugh . I did not handle that well at all. It felt a bit like déjà vu, though. And not in a good way. At least not at the time. When I stepped through those doors and saw him standing there, my heart sped up, and my stomach did a flip. But then I remembered—we weren’t us anymore. I wasn’t allowed to feel that way. The longing that hit me almost took me to my knees. It was all I could do to walk past him without breaking down.

I chance a quick look in his direction. “I apologize for the way I talked to you that day.”

“I deserved it.”

I’m shaking my head before he even finishes the sentence. “You most certainly did not deserve it.”

I glance over and catch him shrugging. “I kind of did, though. I broke your heart. I didn’t expect that winning you back would be easy. Hell, I didn’t even know if I could . All I knew was that I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.”

I get what he’s saying, but at the same time, he shouldn’t have been the only one fighting. Fuck, I almost fell out on the floor when I thought he was with Holden. There hasn’t been a single day in all this time that I haven’t thought of him. Taking him back was inevitable. And I hurt us both by trying to deny that I still wanted him. That I’ve always wanted him. For the rest of my life, if he’ll have me. “I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that, beautiful.”

He hums in response but doesn’t say anything else as we pull into the parking lot at the bakery. I wasn’t lying when I said I still supported Mia and Emily, but at first, I couldn’t. It was too hard—too much. I used to walk through these doors and swear his ghost lived in the walls.

After parking, we both get out of the car. He pauses at the front, waiting for me, and the second I step beside him, he holds his hand out. There’s a slightly hopeful expression on his face, like he really thinks there’s a chance in hell I’m not going to hold his hand.

I reach out, twining our fingers together, and we walk toward the bakery. The second Mia sees us step through the door, her eyes light up. The woman misses nothing, so it’s no surprise she clocks our joined hands in seconds.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she smirks. “I knew it. I knew you two wouldn’t be able to stay away from each other.” She sighs dramatically. “My two little baby gays, in love all over again.”

Roman laughs, but my stomach drops out. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being in love with him, but I’m still so fucking scared to tell him. I can somewhat hear that Mia and Roman are talking, but I’m mostly tuning them out. How long will he be willing to stay with me if I can’t even tell him I love him? I wouldn’t want to stay with me. My stomach aches at the thought of how awful I’d feel if I had told him I loved him and he didn’t say it back. Does he feel awful? Is he questioning if I’m in this or not? Should I just tell him, even though I’m not ready?

“Baby?” His voice draws me back to the present.

“Yeah?”

He gives me a strange look, likely trying to figure out what’s going on in my head. “Still the same coffee order?”

I nod. Trying to shove down my unease and fear, I smirk. “You keeping track of my orders?”

He laughs loudly. “Sure, not in like, a creepy way, though.”

I grin at him. I’ll never forget the adorable look on his face and his nervous rambling when I picked on him about remembering what I had and hadn’t ordered when we were young.

He turns back to Mia. “Beck’s regular, then.”

He pays, and she sets off to get our order together. He leads me to one of the small tables in the corner. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t remember everyone’s orders the way I did yours. Sure, if they came in a lot, I might. But I was kinda obsessed with you.” He winks at me.

“Obsessed, huh?” I ask, smiling.

He leans across the table and presses a kiss onto my lips. Truth be told, I was kinda obsessed with him, too. Fuck. I still am.