18. Damon

CHAPTER 18

DAMON

Nash was stretched out on the couch working when Damon came in. He lifted Nash's feet and took a seat, setting them down in his lap. Cradling one foot, Damon started to massage it, slowly working his thumbs into the sole of Nash's foot. He looked on as Nash's eyes fluttered shut.

"That feels unbelievable. Don't stop."

"How's the book coming?"

Nash didn't usually give anyone a lot of details about what he was working on until it was finished. Until then, he held things close to his chest. Damon still liked to ask, though, and Nash indulged him with vague status updates.

Nash closed his laptop and rubbed his eyes. "It's not."

"Plot problems? Writer's block? I hear adding explosions is a good cure for that."

Nash laughed and set his laptop aside. "Neither." He sank down like he was melting into the couch and Damon continued massaging his feet. He didn't have a foot fetish, but he definitely had a happy Nash fetish.

"Care to share?"

Nash rolled his head, stretching his neck. Damon grabbed one of the throw pillows and tossed it over to him.

"My money guy called today."

"Uh-oh. Bad news?"

Nash snorted and stuffed the pillow behind his head. "Only that he thinks I have too much that's just sitting there, collecting interest and not much else. He wants me to invest in real estate. He gave me a few options, but real estate was the most appealing to me."

"Oooh, are you going to buy a mansion? Hire a pool boy? I could be your live-in maid and I could spend my days fucking my boss instead of wishing he'd go fuck himself." Damon's current supervisor was a know-it-all and a severe pain in the ass. But he'd worked with worse.

"I hate yard work, so I don't want a house."

"So don't get a house." Damon dug his thumbs in deep, running them along the arch of Nash's foot. The resulting groan had Damon's cock thickening, but he ignored it in favor of being a good, emotionally available boyfriend.

"There's a place on the top floor here. Three bedrooms. Two bathrooms."

The building Nash lived in was only four stories tall and Nash currently lived on the third floor.

"The apartment is on the other side of the building, so we'd get a view of the river."

"We?"

Nash popped an eye open and gave Damon a sappy look. "Yes, we. What do I need three bedrooms for? The other bedrooms can be turned into a spare bedroom and an office."

Nash closed his eyes and went back to relaxing. Damon kept his mouth shut even though he wanted to pester Nash about his usage of "we" just now. Did he mean that he wanted Damon to move in? What about Taylor? Him too? Damon didn't hate the idea, but it was probably premature to say as much. Hell, he still hadn't told Nash that he loved him.

Damon had realized it some time ago. Before Taylor. At that moment, he thought Nash had been it for him. Which was why it had been such a struggle for him when he realized he had feelings for Taylor, too. According to society, to books and movies and television and even to all his family and friends, relationships were made of two people. Not three.

But Damon was okay with it being the three of them. And, for now, Damon was content to rub his boyfriend's feet and try to work out whether he'd just asked Damon to move in with him or not.

He probably hadn't. Nash wasn't one to mince words. Damon switched to the other foot.

"Any word on Mickey?" Nash asked. Taylor had told Nash about Mickey, the former classmate who'd fallen on hard times that Taylor had taken in for the night. When Taylor went home the next day before his shift, Mickey was long gone.

"Nope. Taylor leaves to-go containers out back for him now, and they disappear. So either he's taking them when no one's around, or someone else has discovered them and is capitalizing on Taylor's kindness. He's pretty worried about him, though. Said he'd seemed under the weather."

"I hope he turns up soon."

"Me too." The silence between them wasn't quite as comfortable as it usually was because the gears in Damon's head wouldn't stop turning back to that comment about the apartment. About how Nash said we and had included Damon. How he'd confided in him about the conversation with his finance guy.

"I think you should listen to your accountant," Damon told him.

Nash nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. I mean, I pay him for a reason."

Nash pulled his feet out of Damon's lap and sat up. He edged closer to Damon and linked their hands together, lacing their fingers. Damon leaned in and rested his head on Nash's shoulder.

"What kind of place would you want to live in?" Nash asked. "Because I can suffer with a yard if it's important to you."

"Nash, babe, it's your money. It's your place. Your call."

"It's my money, but I'd hoped it would be our place."

Damon bit his lip. "I—do we really need a yard? We both know we'd spend more time at Taylor's place around the fire pit than we would anywhere else."

"Good point."

Nash lifted their hands and brushed a kiss against Damon's knuckles. His heart stuttered in his chest. Damon had truthfully never been good at the whole friends-with-benefits thing when it came to Nash because right from the jump, he'd been greedy. One night wasn't enough. One weekend was a tease. Damon wanted more. And now he wanted it all.

Nash had breathed life into a dream Damon didn't know he'd had, or at the very least, hadn't let himself think about. Until now. Until Nash casually told him about buying a bigger apartment and carving out space for Damon there. And he knew without asking that Nash was carving out space there for Taylor, too. The plan to not have a yard of their own so they'd always have an excuse to go to Taylor's for fire nights. And if Taylor ever moved in with them, it would be an even bigger reason to go to fire nights. Family was important to Taylor, and the Bennetts were important to both him and Nash.

Neither one of them had much to do with their families. Damon because his was full of phobic assholes who hid behind carefully placed barbs and barely hidden slights. And Nash because he was a successful author and not a successful doctor. When his parents had kids, they'd wanted to turn them into little clones of themselves. Like younger versions so they could have a do-over and fix their regrets through their children.

And then there was Ethan Bennett and his three boys. Probably the nicest people Damon had ever come to know. Ethan never met a stranger he couldn't turn into a friend, and he'd be the last person to turn away someone in need.

Nash nudged him, bringing him back to reality. "Where'd you go?"

His forehead was furrowed in worry lines, and Damon reached for him, smoothing his fingers down the line of Nash's jaw. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

"Smooth talker." Nash kissed Damon without warning. Hard and deep, like a man possessed. Nash kissed him until Damon's toes curled and he had to pull away for a breath of air.

He almost didn't want to tell Nash how he felt in that moment. Because while it wasn't new to Damon, the idea of living with Nash was. And it felt surreal, to love someone as much as he loved Nash, and for that to be reciprocated in a way that could spell forever. But it wasn't just Nash; he cared about Taylor too. Loving him in his own way that was new and soft and shy and maybe not as bright and fierce as how he felt about Nash, but not less. Just different.

Nash, however, was here, and he deserved to hear the truth from Damon. Especially after his initial insecurities. Nash deserved to hear it and Damon didn't think he could keep those words back a moment longer.

He held tight to Nash, gripping him where their hands were still linked. He clung to Nash and kissed him again. Pressed their mouths together firm and tight and slipped his tongue into Nash's mouth, wishing it was that easy to say what he wanted to. Speaking felt like cracking his chest open and laying his beating heart in Nash's hands, begging him not to break it.

"Nash," Damon said. He angled their foreheads together and took a breath. Then another. Damon squeezed his eyes shut because he couldn't look at Nash and admit this to him. Couldn't stand the thought of Nash needing a second to school his expression.

"Nash—" A deep breath before Damon took the plunge. "I love you. I don't know when it started, or maybe I always did, but there. I said it." Damon exhaled and collapsed into Nash, resting his head on Nash's shoulder.

Nash's arm came around Damon, and when he wiggled his fingers and pulled his hand out of Damon's, that one came around him, too. Nash held him so fucking tight it felt like he was squishing the crack in Damon's chest closed, heart still intact.

"Good, because I love you too."

Damon's head shot up. "Seriously?"

Nash didn't roll his eyes or make a joke. He didn't make light of Damon's feelings. He simply brushed the hair off Damon's forehead in a gesture so tender Damon could scarcely breathe or move.

"Seriously," Nash said, confirming his words. "I love you, Damon."

"Oh, thank fucking God." Relief so bright and palpable washed over him and he started to laugh. He pressed a kiss against Nash's cheek because he was still laughing and then he curled up on the couch and snuggled into Nash's side like they'd done a million times before.

Nash held his hand again and stroked his thumb absentmindedly over the back of Damon's hand. "Were you worried that it wasn't reciprocated?"

Damon rolled the question around in his head before answering. "Yes and no. I mean, it's always a risk, that first declaration. So, yes, I was worried. But, no, I wasn't because it's you. And you tolerate almost no one, so the fact that you let me hang out here all the time is proof of your affection toward me."

Nash kissed the top of Damon's head. "This is true. I've been hooked on you since that first night."

"It seems like it was forever ago. Even though I know it hasn't been all that long."

"You do realize we're going to have to tell the other Bennetts sooner or later, don't you?"

"I vote for later, once we're sure Taylor is head over heels in love with both of us and that he'd be destroyed if Colby murdered us in our sleep."

Damon didn't think that day was all that far off.