7. Chapter 7

Aclap of thunder pulls me from my work. Rain is lashing the windows as if it"s trying to drown the earth. Its ferocity makes me shiver.

I know before looking at my phone that I will have several texts from Lars. Losing myself in my work is an acceptable excuse to miss meeting him, mainly because I heard Alec would be there. Lars wants to catch up, and being at the meeting would be convenient for him, but we can do it another time.

I'm not actively avoiding Alec.

That is a lie. I am avoiding Alec. It is best to be honest with myself.

I'm a grown man evading my attraction to a man with questionable personality traits. Alec knows he is the best-looking person in the room. And he is a shameless flirt. And his gender identity is tangled up with being a top.

But admitting I'm weak and dying to take whatever reprieve he can give me from the pain of the past year is difficult. It calls into question my morals. I'm willing to use a man to forget and steal his sunshine for myself.

So I'm staying away from him. For him.

It's easier to avoid him than push him away.

His talent is also attractive. I wonder if he ever wanted to do something else. The way he listened to Madyson's idea for the arch and drew it perfectly scaled was incredible. I couldn't see it, but he magically conjured it.

I'm struggling, needing to finish a few more pieces for The Artistic Edge show. Madyson already took the one I donated for the auction. It wasn't done, but she said it was perfect.

At least the arch is completed, and I managed to make her a necklace as a token of thanks. I worry about her, which is ridiculous. Jayce would lay down his life for her. So I don't understand my irrational fear for her heart. I guess all our hearts need protecting sometimes.

Riding the elevator down to The Artistic Edge, I text Lars back. Realizing he's gone to meet his girlfriend, I casually peek into Madyson's office before announcing my presence and freeze in place.

Jayce holds Madyson as she sobs and wails. "You were right. I shouldn't have said anything."

Jayce murmurs in her ear, so I can't hear his response.

I quietly retreat, not wanting to intrude on the end of a fight. As I backtrack, I hear the wind and follow the sound to the front of the gallery. The main front door is slightly ajar, so rain is flooding the entrance. I close it and head back upstairs to the artists' space.

I understand why they put a separate entrance in for the living space, especially if a woman ever lives in my apartment, but some days, I wish I didn't have to go outside. After I clean up my mess, I realize I cannot wait out the storm and take the elevator to the exit.

Even though the awning covers both doors, it does not provide any shelter. The rain is turning to sleet and lashes sideways in heavy sheets as the temperature hovers around freezing.

New Yorkers pretend to be immune to the weather, but every artist who worked today talked at length about the unusual cold and rain. It's colder here than it is in Sweden, and this storm reminds me of the ones that sweep in from the artic, chilling everyone to the bone.

I can either stand here or brave it. The wind is so strong I have to fight to get the door open, and I can barely see through the dense torrent of rain. My fingers instantly numb and fumble on the keypad.

Movement catches my eye—a shadow of a man huddled against the building. I do not recognize my need to help him. We Swedes keep to ourselves and let everyone handle their own business.

Someone else must take over my body because I take a bill out of my wallet and plod toward the person. It will be enough for him to buy a coffee and get out of the rain. Yelling to get his attention, I approach slowly.

Big brown broken eyes meet mine and they gut me.

Alec. I reach for him, but he is nonresponsive.

Shaking gently to stir him into action does nothing. He collapses against me, and I tuck him into my side. The pieces begin to fit together. Madyson crying and the open front door means he's been exposed to this weather too long.

It takes coaxing to get him to move. I'm not above throwing him over my shoulder at this point. My fingers ache from the cold and his limbs aren't working correctly. He might have frostbite. My underwear and shoes are frigid and wet. I might throw them out. His clothes are worse.

The wait for the elevator is eternal, while Alec shivers wordlessly in my arms. That scares me the most. Alec uses humor for everything and talks as much as he breathes.

I maneuver him through my bedroom and into the bathroom. Turning on the walk-in shower, I angle us both in. I'm afraid if I turn the water too hot, I'll scald him.

Alec is jelly and will fall if I let go. Shivers wrack his body.

I hold him tight, his back against my chest so the warm water can replace the cold. He's not even wearing a jacket. I slowly peel the Henley over his stomach to expose his skin.

His skin is living artwork that I can't admire.

"I got you." I take one of his arms, bending it up and around my neck. "Let me help you." My mouth is next to his ear, and he lets out an animalistic wail. It's the sound of a man who's shattered.

He's a solid block of ice and he needs all the warmth I can offer.

Getting his shirt over his head is equivalent to wrestling an unruly toddler, and I would tease him if I weren't so concerned. I wriggle out of my own shirt to give Alec my body heat. We stand silently for a few minutes before I ask if he can stand.

Alec nods and shakes his head at the same time. I turn us sideways so I can prop him against the wall and remove our pants. Alec seems oblivious that we are only wearing underwear—almost naked in my shower. I distract myself from ogling his body and tattoos by adjusting the water temperature to hot, hoping his skin is ready for the heat.

Alec's head flops back to rest on my shoulder and his hands grip my forearms wrapped around him. I can't imagine what Madyson said to unhinge Alec.

I'm well acquainted with grief, and he's drowning in an ocean of it.

All I can do is hold him and take care of him until he works through his pain.

As soon as the water cools, I wrap him in a couple of towels and strip off his boxers. I give myself an extra point for not checking out his dick. Normally, Alec thrives on attention, but he's not that Alec now. This Alec has vacant eyes, barely a shell of a human. Once he's dry, I dress him in my thickest tr?ja and sweatpants. After pulling back the covers on my bed, I lay him down and climb in behind him once I dry off and dress.

I don't want to notice how his body melts into mine or how his presence thaws my heart. My thoughts need to stay focused on making sure he's warm and not suffering any negative effects from the freezing rain.

Alec's body convulses and I'm not sure if it's physical or emotional pain. I envelop him, entwining our legs and tucking his head under my chin. His rapid breath saws in and out against the hollow of my throat.

I'm angry for him. At whoever has reduced this fun-loving man to shreds. It's not even strange that we have not exchanged any words or that he's here in my bed. That worries me.

Alec lifts his head, and the vulnerability is more than I can take.

"Why are you doing this?"

A million answers flicker through my head before I settle on the truth. "You need me."

"Don't feel obligated to take care of me." Pain radiates from him.

"You Americans are so caught up in what you want, you don't think about what you need. And today, you need someone to take care of you. I volunteered." I smile, hoping to put him at ease.

"But you don't like me." He tries to put space between us, but I'm not ready for that.

His statement is not true.

With Alec, the heaviness of the past lifts, and I can embrace the fun side of life again.

Being around him, even when he's upset, gives me hope for happiness.

Instead of trying to explain my complicated emotions, I say something silly. "I'm a part-time artist who doubles as a fairy godmother." I squeeze my arms around him. "Tell your fairy godmother all your problems, and I'll make them go away or exact revenge on the devil who deserves a punishment worse than death." I'm not good at making people laugh but he needs it.

Alec's body relaxes. He exhales and nestles his head back under my chin. "It's stupid. I'm being a drama queen."

"A drama queen would throw a tantrum, not stand catatonic in the rain. Whatever it is, it is not stupid or you would make a joke."

"You think you got me all figured out, Viking?" His chilly fingers find their way under my shirt and press into my back.

"No. But I'm certain that the Alec I met would not have let naked shower time go by without some inappropriate touching or a dirty joke." I inch my hips back so my cock doesn't think this touching is going any further.

"Hmmm."

Desperate to know what's on his mind, I decide not to push him. He will tell me if he wants to. It's dangerous to dig for information about his pain from the past to bond over. Being this close to him is playing with fire and I'm asking to get burned alive.

"If you decide to talk about it, I'm a good listener. I have kept a secret or two." I smile into Alec's hair as he huffs. His breath tingles against my skin, fanning out everywhere.

"You're the type who would need to be water boarded before you had a lengthy conversation, let alone divulged secrets."

I laugh because it's only a slight exaggeration. We lie in silence, listening to the furnace kick on.

"I don't remember going outside," he confesses.

I wait, hoping he'll say more.

"Madyson thought if she dredged up the past and forced me to see something new, it would somehow help me and change things." His fingers dig into my back. "Obviously, she was wrong."

"The past is tricky. We cannot change it, but if we do not heal from it, it can sabotage our future." The words catch in my throat, and I shove my emotions aside to focus on Alec.

I rub his back in soothing circles but part of me wants to go rip the necklace I gave Madyson off her neck. I don't need to fear for her heart but the hearts she carelessly breaks.

"Do fairy godmothers get degrees in therapy?"

"Only the best of us." I find myself intimately rubbing my cheek against his hair.

We lie there, breathing each other in.

Alec's breathing evens out and he falls asleep clutching me. Eventually, his body relaxes and I ease him onto his own pillow. His long lashes fan over his cheeks, and his face has a cherub quality to it. There are so many interesting layers of this man to know.

I am grateful for the huge walk-in shower that I thought was wasteful when I rented the loft. Lars told me I'm practically stealing from them with how little rent I pay. This would be considered high rent in Stockholm for the small square footage. My one-bedroom loft only has 750 square feet, which is much smaller than I'm used to. But the industrial open floor plan works fine for me. It is odd that I can only access the bathroom through my bedroom, but at least it was easy to warm Alec up.

The rain starts to subside and sleep pulls me under.

A crack of thunder and thrashing wakes me. I'm confused before I realize Alec is moaning as if he's being hurt. I'm scared to wake him from his nightmare, but I have to do something. Singing a Swedish lullaby always calmed me as a child. My voice is terrible, but the simple melody relaxes him.

He blinks awake with fear in his eyes and it hurts my heart. I remind him of how he got here and ask him if he's okay. He shakes his head, and when I stretch out my arm as an invitation, he nestles into me.

"Do you want to talk?"

His body twitches as if trying to shake off whatever held him in its grip. His silence feels louder than the raging storm. He opens and closes his mouth against my skin unable to decide if he wants to talk. My hand strokes his back in encouragement.

"Did I tell you Cole rescued me from being homeless?" Alec's half asleep and he slurs his words, so I grip him tighter. "I left my boyfriend the day I'd come home and found him fucking his friend in our bed."

He sighs. "It was really his bed. I was a sophomore in college and so na?ve. He was my first serious boyfriend. He said he loved me." Disdain wraps around Alec's voice. "He was a few years older, so cool and worldly. I'd barely left my small hometown, and he'd traveled to other countries. He convinced me to move in with him for the spring semester to save money. The dorms were so expensive and I knew paying back the loans would kill me. His offer was the perfect answer."

I keep very still, afraid Alec will fully wake up and stop talking. I'm holding my breath to know more, and it scares me to think how far I would go to know. He rubs his cheek on my chest as if he can't get close enough, so I hug him tighter.

"I left him immediately with only the clothes on my back and my laptop. Not the brightest move, but I didn't stick around. The image of them together is still burned in my brain. To make a long story short, he overdosed a couple of days later. But according to Madyson, he was an addict, so that absolves me of any and all responsibility." Alec's voice breaks, unable to hold back the emotion pouring out of him.

"I got you," I tell him again with all the air left in my lungs.

My past creeps up on me, stealing my breath. I'm determined to help Alec with his pain. Mine has no place here.

Alec moves away, and I let go.

I think he's fallen back asleep until he punches the pillow. After a minute, he asks, "How could I not know? How could my boyfriend abuse drugs and I not know? It almost feels worse."

My stomach twists and tears spring to my eyes. "You were young and in love and addicts do not want you to know."

"The worst part is, I don't think I ever loved him. It was too easy to walk away. My pride was hurt, and I was furious." He swallows. "For a long time, I blamed myself, wondering if he knew I didn't love him and that drove him to cheat and do drugs."

"No!" I exclaim.

Disagreeing for him. For myself.

My truth is too raw to share with him, and I'm not strong enough to say it out loud. So I opt for a partial truth. "I was close to someone who became addicted to pain pills. The drugs killed him. I knew something was wrong. I tried to figure it out, and I was an adult with resources to help him. You were a kid. I assume he never did drugs in front of you?"

Alec nods in agreement to my questions.

"We cannot be responsible for someone else's choices. Your ex had a million other choices besides drugs and so did my friend. Second-guessing what happened or what we could have done differently will not bring them back. It was not our responsibility to save them without knowledge of the problem." The words come easily, but the truth of them is much harder to believe. It's been over a year and I haven't mastered the reality versus my feelings. My heart is still broken and doesn't know how to heal.

The only indisputable thing I've learned is that feelings don't make sense. I also get the impression that Alec is holding parts of the story back. I understand that all too well.

"Thank you." Alec sinks into me and falls back asleep, but my body is buzzing.

I don't regret telling Alec about Boe, but it infects my brain and my whole body hurts.

I'm irrationally angry with Boe and want the chance to tell him what a selfish arsle he was to die. But I would never. I had no idea how broken he was at the end or how to help him. It's the helplessness that eats at me.

I push my unhappy memories away and watch Alec sleep. He definitely has a dark past. The block letters spelling ‘poison' tattooed across his chest unsettle me as if it is a label he's put on himself.

I'm certain this gorgeous, damaged man will steal my heart.