Chapter 15
Stone
“Do you still eat green peppers and pepperoni on your pizza?” I call up to Hanlon from the living room. The shower finally cut off after forty minutes, and I don’t feel like cooking tonight. It was a long day. The resort is in full swing and getting busier the closer we creep toward Christmas.
There were two distal radius fractures on the mountain today, and a collision that sent two skiers into concussion protocol.
Ever since the backcountry search and rescue, it’s felt like we’ve been going nonstop.
The bathroom fan turns off, and the door opens.
“What?” Hanlon yells down to me.
My attention is drawn to his voice, but I should never have looked up.
My stepbrother is leaning over the edge of the railing, wearing nothing but a low-slung towel around his hips.
His hair is still dripping water onto his chest, and I just set the world record for going from flaccid to fully erect.
It was so fast, it kind of hurt, and I instinctively drive the heel of my hand into my crotch.
“What did you say?” Hanlon repeats, bringing another towel up to his hair. Jesus. His biceps flex with the movement, and I’m having trouble swallowing.
“Uh…” Fuck. What did I say? “Pizza. What do you want on it?”
“Oh, green pepper and pepperoni,” he replies, toweling his hair dry.
“Thought so,” I mumble to myself.
Hanlon disappears, and when he reemerges, he’s in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that’s molded over his pecs and loose at his stomach.
There’s no denying it; Hanlon is hot. I shouldn’t be disappointed that the towel is gone, but I am.
He looks nice, but he also looks like he’s going out. And is that…
“Are you wearing cologne?” I ask, regretting it as soon as it leaves my lips. He probably thinks I’m judging him. If he got dressed up for me and I’m making him feel like shit about it, I will punch myself in the face.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t think it would be as strong as it is,” he says, his cheeks reddening.
I wave a hand. “Nah, it’s nice.” His lips curve into a smile, and his glasses shift as they’re pushed higher.
Smiling is something Hanlon doesn’t do often because of me, but I’m starting to wish he’d do it more.
“You want to watch a movie?” I suggest. “I’m pretty sure I can find Transformers on one of the streaming services. ”
Hanlon looks up from his phone. “I’m not ten anymore, Stone.”
Yeah. No fucking shit.
“Okay, something else then?”
“I’m actually going to meet Micah for a drink after dinner,” he says, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Micah?”
“Uh, yeah. From the gym?”
“I know who he is,” I say harsher than necessary.
“Oh, right,” he says, typing something on his phone. Probably to Micah.
Jealousy twists in my gut before I can talk sense into myself, but I try anyway.
I mean, come on, of course I’m not jealous.
I’m glad Hanlon is making friends. I want him to enjoy his time out here.
And Micah is a really nice guy. Just because Hanlon’s staying with me doesn’t mean we have to eat every meal together.
We already see each other all day at work.
It’s reasonable that he’d want some space.
A second later, his phone pings again, and my stupid mouth has to point it out.
“He sure does text a lot.”
This time, the judgmental tone is so obvious it’s glaring us both in the face, and unfortunately, Hanlon thinks I’m trying to pick a fight.
“How else are you supposed to get to know someone?” he asks rationally. He’s doing a much better job than I am of keeping his annoyance reigned in, and it only serves to annoy me further.
“Well, what time are you going to be back?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I might go back to his place if we hit it off this time. Don’t wait up.”
Hit it off? I huff a nervous laugh. Something dreadful and terrifying, mixed with a deadly amount of hope, coils itself around my spine.
“You make it sound like a date…and not the kind Logan was joking about.” Folding my arms across my chest, I wait for him to tell me I’m wrong and that I should stop being an asshole. Anything except confirm what I can’t bear to hear.
He snarls, and every nerve ending I have is on fire like I’m being held over an open flame.
“That’s because it is a date. I’m gay, Stone, and if that’s going to be a problem, I’ll stay with Micah tonight and move all my shit back into the apartment tomorrow.”
I can’t breathe.
Two fists are locked around my lungs, squeezing so that I can’t fill them with the air I desperately need.
When I don’t respond, Hanlon misunderstands my reaction and scoffs.
“Unbelievable. I’m going to skip the pizza. I’m not really hungry anymore. See you later.”
Wait. What?
“Hanlon, no. No, you don’t—”
“Don’t what, Stone? Understand that you’re a homophobic piece of shit? You already warned me off Logan. And while he’s not my type, some harmless flirting isn’t enough to make me uncomfortable, but apparently, it’s enough for you.”
He grabs his jacket as I grab his wrist.
“Please don’t leave. I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t expecting that. Can I just have a second to process?” My entire hand burns with the heat of a thousand suns where I’m touching the skin at his wrist.
The hatred and fury in his eyes should be making me wilt, but those damn glasses soften the glare and have me entranced.
“Please don’t drive right now. You’re pissed, and those roads are dangerous under the best circumstances,” I tell him, shifting to protector mode because it’s a familiar role where he’s concerned.
But it’s the wrong thing to say.
Hanlon explodes, the shrapnel of his ire raining down on me, piercing my heart.
“I don’t fucking need you to protect me anymore, Stone!
Give up the concerned big brother act! We both know you never wanted that role in the first place!
You haven’t been a part of my life in a long time, and I’ve done just fine without you.
We have eight weeks left, and then we can go back to the way things were before. ”
He storms out the door, leaving me with one thought: No, Han, I don’t think we can.
It’s midnight when the front door opens. I jump off the couch like I’m the fucking welcoming committee.
Hanlon shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on a peg by the front door.
I like the way it looks there, hanging next to mine.
His silky waves are a mess, like he was running his hands through them…or maybe it was Micah.
The thought of someone’s hands on Hanlon makes me dizzy.
He startles when he sees me.
“Jesus, Stone. Why are you sitting in the dark?” he snaps.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I went to bed, but couldn’t sleep, and when I came back out, I just sort of sat on the couch and stared at the fire.”
My logs are tied to the thermostat, and watching them cut on and off over the last several hours was about all I could manage.
“Okay, well, goodnight, I guess,” Hanlon says, shutting me down as he moves toward the stairs.
“Han, wait.”
My heart rate spikes because I know there’s only one way to make this right with him. There’s only one way to prove that my reaction to his news wasn’t due to homophobia.
I have to tell him the truth, my truth, the way he told me his.
He pauses his movement on the stairs, which is good. It tells me he’s willing to listen.
So, I really have to make sure I don’t fuck this up.
“Can you…will you come sit for a minute? I need to talk to you.” I’m suddenly freezing despite the heat from the logs and the temperature being the same it’s been all day.
“I’m really not in the mood for a lecture, Stone. I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What? No, I don’t want you to go. And it’s not a lecture. Please. Just talk to me.”
Blowing out a resigned breath, Hanlon takes a seat on the couch as far away from me as possible and looks at me expectantly.
“Well?”
“How, um, how do you know you’re gay?” I ask, realizing the question sounds stupid. But maybe if he can shed some light on understanding it and processing it, I could do that, too.
“Well, the fact that I like to suck dick was a pretty dead giveaway,” he says without cracking a smile.
My teeth grind at the thought of Hanlon’s perfect lips wrapped around some bastard’s cock. He deserves to be the one lavished with all the attention.
“Maybe you could stop being one for a second and give me a serious answer,” I reply, my tone harsh from my previous thought.
“What do you want me to say here, Stone? I’ve thought girls were pretty, but never had a desire to touch them, kiss them, or grind myself against them like I do the hard body of a man.
I like the lines and muscles a man has to offer.
I like the deepness of a man’s voice. I like the feel of facial hair abrading my thi—” he trails off, his eyes glued to my beard as he clears his throat.
The look makes my cock thicken in my sweatpants.
“Go on,” I encourage, desperate to hear more.
“I think you get the point. Now tell me why you’re so interested,” he demands.
This is my last chance to turn back. To take the coward’s way out and keep my struggle to myself. But I don’t. Because I’ve known ever since the day I taught Hanlon Winchester how to ski that he was a lot stronger than I am, and I want to be more like him.
“I think I might be gay as well… or bi at least, or something not entirely straight, but I don’t really know because I don’t seem to find either sex attractive, but I guess I…” God, this is embarrassing. “I guess I pay more attention to guys than girls?”
Hanlon’s eyes go wide before they narrow in anger.
“Are you fucking with me right now?”
I recoil like he slapped me. “Do I look like I’m fucking with you? Jesus, Hanlon, you’re the first person I’ve said the words out loud to, and you think it’s a joke?”
He winces as the realization that I’m serious slams into him.
Suddenly, he’s standing in front of me, grabbing me by the front of my shirt, hauling me into a hug.
“Shit, Stone. I’m really sorry, man. Talk about unexpected.”
With Hanlon’s arms around me, I feel like I can finally draw a deep breath. His chest expands against mine, and I use his breaths to regulate my own; which is fucking ironic.
It isn’t until I’m breathing him in that I realize how much I miss home.
“Do Lana and Dad know…about you?” I ask Hanlon, suddenly in need of any answers he can give me.
“Yes.”
That knowledge stings.
“So, I’m the only one who didn’t know,” I say unnecessarily.
Hanlon pulls back to study my face and guides me back to the couch.
“How was that conversation supposed to go, Stone? Hey man. I know we haven’t talked much in the last several years, but I just wanted to call and give you the update that I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’m into guys.”
I shove my shoulder playfully into his.
“Okay, asshole. I get it.”
Turning serious, Hanlon says, “But you said you think you might be gay, not that you definitely are. What’s still got you confused?”
“Nothing, I guess. I mean, I don’t know.
There were some attractive guys on the app I tried out.
Enough to know that I’d consider dating a guy, but nothing seems to jump out at me.
Guy or girl,” I confess. “Like, I want to find somebody, I just can’t seem to figure out how to apply that knowledge in real life. ”
“You mean like dating?”
I shrug. “I mean, like, everything.”
“Stone, are y—are you a virgin?”
I drop my face in my hands, wishing I could die right this second.
“Okaaaay, I’ll take that as a yes,” Hanlon says. “Let me back up, though. Have you ever been out with a guy?”
Fuck. I really didn’t want to share this story. Ever. With anyone. But in for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose.
“Yeah. Once.”
“Once?” Hanlon questions, forcing the rest of the story from me.
“Ugh, God, do not repeat this.” I sigh dramatically before diving in.
“I made a profile on a dating-slash-hookup app. Our town is small, but the app said there were a few options. My first match came within an hour of establishing a profile. He reached out and asked if I wanted to meet up.” I suck on my teeth, really hating that I have to say the next part.
“And?” Hanlon asks. “What happened?”
“I showed up to find Logan waiting for me.”
To Hanlon’s credit, he’s able to hold his laughter in for a solid five seconds before he loses it.
“No fucking way!” he roars with laughter. “So that’s why he’s always making innuendos and tries to get under your skin!” Before I can confirm, Hanlon’s laughter cuts off abruptly, and he scowls, looking genuinely pissed.
“Shit, what’d I say now?” I ask.
“Why does his teasing you make me so mad?” Hanlon asks.
“To be fair, he’s not trying to be pushy. I think he’s legitimately into me, and he gives me a hard time because he’s hurt that I turned him down.”
“That’s even worse,” Hanlon grumbles, making me laugh.
“Kind of like watching Micah trying to get with you?” I ask with a raised brow.
“No,” Hanlon says, totally confused. “Micah’s not harassing me to do something I’m not ready for. Plus, we don’t work together, and he took my no as a no without any added teasing, ridicule, or guilt.”
Wait.
“What do you mean your ‘no’?”
Avoiding my gaze, Hanlon says, “We’re talking about you right now.”
“Come on, Han. It would make me feel a lot better if I weren’t the only vulnerable one in this room.”
“There’s nothing to tell, really. He’s great. He’s just not what I’m looking for,” Hanlon replies stoically.
The huskiness of my voice is reflective of the giant stride I’m about to take into dangerous territory as I ask, “What exactly are you looking for?”
I don’t think Hanlon is aware that his eyes dip to my lips. The firelight dances in his pupils, making it easy to tell where his attention is focused.
He’s never looked at me like this before. With admiration? Yes. With respect? Yes. Hatred? Also, yes. But hunger? Never.
Until now.
And fuck, this isn’t good.