Chapter 18 #2
When Daniel’s eyes found his, Brantley wasn’t sure that that had been the right thing to say. But that was soon put to rest when Daniel clenched his teeth, dropped his head back, and came. And his name fell like a prayer, or a curse, from those full lips.
The silence that surrounded them as securely as a cocoon blocked out the rest of the world. Because just as it’d always been with Finn, when the two of them were together like this—naked, souls bared to one another—nothing else existed.
AS THEY LAY in the dark with the light of the moon slipping between the curtains, Daniel couldn’t help the curve to his lips, because— holy fucking wow —that had been even better than he’d imagined, fantasized, or dreamed it would be.
Brantley was still every single thing he wanted in a man wrapped up in one perfect package.
Rolling to his side, he placed his hands under his cheek and noticed Brantley staring up at the ceiling. But, unlike Daniel, he was frowning.
“That’s a very serious expression after what we just did…”
The furrow between Brantley’s eyebrows vanished as he turned his head on the pillow, replaced with a slow and satisfied smile. “I was thinking.”
“I know. I’d recognize that expression anywhere.”
“Yet I don’t know any of yours now.”
“Ahh. So, I’m mysterious?” Daniel said with a grin.
“Well, I know that one. You’ve always been cocky.”
He waggled his eyebrows.
Brantley rolled his eyes. “What I mean is, you’ve become such a different man from the one who left.
There are hints of the Finn I knew, but this version…
” He let his eyes linger over Daniel. When he got to his hip where his tattoo trailed a path over his right side and hipbone, he reached for it.
“This version I’m not so familiar with.”
As Brantley’s fingers gently traced the ink on his skin, Daniel scooted closer. “What do you want to know?” he asked.
When Brantley’s eyes found his, Daniel held his gaze, allowing him to see how sincere he was.
Somewhere in the last several hours, this man had snuck past the giant wall he’d carefully built.
And while he was more than aware he was opening himself up to one hell of a heartbreak, he was also aware that if he didn’t do this, the regret would be a worse kind of torture.
He couldn’t remember the number of nights he’d lain in bed and imagined Brantley lying beside him as he now was. His eyes on his, his cheek pressed to the pillow, the sheet down around their hips—but by morning, he’d always been gone.
“I want to know about your life, Finn,” Brantley whispered into the night. “Are you happy? Do you like your job? Your home? And don’t wax over it and brush it aside. I’m serious.”
Daniel shifted to his back and placed his hands behind his head. Closing his eyes, he thought about his condo back in Chicago. His office at Leighton & Associates. And it had him looking back at the man waiting expectantly.
“Yes. I’m happy.” He thought he caught something cross Brantley’s face, but it was gone before he could ask about it, so he continued. “It’s different there. I’m different there. I swear it feels like a whole other world away. Like there are two versions of myself.”
Brantley nodded. “I can understand that. I feel that way when I visit my family up north.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, and rolled back to his side. “I don’t know how to describe it. When I’m here, it’s so relaxed. So I can relax. But the city… She’s a whole different kind of mistress. She’s aggressive.” He winked.
Brantley chuckled.
“She’s ruthless at times, and she made me fight for what I wanted.”
“And did you get it?” Brantley asked.
Daniel didn’t hesitate. “I’m real fucking close.”
“Of course you are. You’ve always been so incredibly bright, not to mention determined, so it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that you adapted so well to a big city.”
“It wasn’t always easy,” he said as he reached out to push a piece of Brantley’s hair off his forehead. “The first year was fucking agony.”
“Finn—”
“No,” he interrupted, pulling his hand back. “Let me say this. For a long time—since I left, really—I’ve resented the hell out of you.”
Brantley winced at those words, but Daniel knew that if he was going to lay everything out for this man again, he needed to be honest, and that included telling him the good and the bad. It’d always been that way with them.
“I felt like you took all of my choices away from me the day you sent me away.”
“I know,” Brantley whispered.
And the pain in those two words tore at Daniel in a way he hadn’t imagined they would. He’d once thought he’d feel immense satisfaction at making Brantley Hayes admit that he’d been a selfish ass that day, but now, all he felt was anguish.
“But you didn’t,” he said, and he knew that the shock that crossed Brantley’s face was mirrored on his own. “Don’t get me wrong. What you did…that can never be undone. You took a huge chance, pushing me away—or should I say sending me away. You took a chance that, in the end, changed my life.”
Brantley opened his mouth, but Daniel placed a finger over his lips.
“You gave me the best and worst gift you ever could’ve given me.
It was both selfish and completely unselfish at the same time.
I see that now. Yet at the same time…” He ran the pad of his finger along Brantley’s lower lip and told him with more sincerity than he’d felt in years, “I hate that my life is nowhere near yours.”
Brantley reached for his wrist and tugged him close, and Daniel scooted in to the place he used to feel most secure—stretched along Brantley’s side, his head on his chest.
“I dreamed about you, you know. Every night after you left.”
The words were so softly spoken that Daniel almost believed he’d imagined them until Brantley ran a hand down the back of his hair.
“I kept seeing your face and hearing your words from that day.”
He raised his head to look up at Brantley.
“I hate what I did to you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And every day you were gone, I missed you like it was the first day you’d left.”
Daniel pressed his lips to Brantley’s chest and sighed. It’d been so long since he’d felt such comfort in another’s arms. In truth, he hadn’t felt it since this man’s. Then he asked something he’d wanted to know for years.
“Why didn’t you ever call me?”
“Would you have answered?”
Daniel frowned. “Probably not.”
“Right.”
“Did you want to?”
“Every minute of every day.”
He laid his head back on Brantley’s chest and listened to the steady beating of his heart. And as Daniel closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but whisper, “Don’t disappear, okay?” And he thought he heard, “I’m not going anywhere,” as he drifted off to sleep.