Chapter 11 #2
The idea of holding his hand in public—in broad daylight, no less—made my chest go tight.
I’d never even considered it with Wyatt—the risk was too high, the consequences too real. Even in Vegas, I’d only let my guard down in a space where everyone was too drunk or high to care. But this? Walking down the street, our fingers intertwined, just existing?
God, I wanted it.
And that was dangerous.
“Won't people recognize you? You keep downplaying your celebrity, but given that kid at the hotel, there’s a better than zero chance someone would realize who you are and post about us online.”
Taylor’s expression turned resolute. “I’ve actually been talking to my agent about coming out. Not right away, but … soon.”
The air left my lungs.
Coming out.
He said it so casually, as if it were just an item on his to-do list. Like it wouldn’t blow up his entire life.
Like it wouldn’t blow up mine.
“Taylor.” I kept my voice low, aware of the sleeping woman next to me.
“That’s …" I paused, giving myself time to formulate my thoughts into words that wouldn't sting when I spoke them. "I’m glad you’re at that place in your life, but I need you to understand that’s not an option for me. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
His face fell, the light in his eyes dimming slightly. “I know. I wasn’t suggesting—”
“I work with senators, governors, people whose careers depend on discretion. I can’t ever become the story,” I explained, my tone defensive. “If I’m outed, I lose everything I’ve built. Everything I’m still trying to build.”
“I get it, Seb. I do.” His voice was gentle, but I couldn’t help notice that his eyes were wounded. “I wouldn’t out you. You know that, right?”
“I know.” And I did, but the fear was still there, coiled tight in my chest. “I just need to make sure we’re clear. Whatever this is,”—I gestured vaguely between us—“has to stay private.”
Taylor was quiet for a long time before nodding. “Okay. Yeah. Not a problem.”
Except I’d just made it a problem.
He’d shared something vulnerable—something immense for a queer person—and I’d responded by drawing a line in the sand: Stay in the closet with me, or we can’t do this.
Taylor pulled back, literally and figuratively, putting an inch of space between our shoulders that felt like a mile.
When he started listing other places we should visit—some lighthouse, a seafood shack he loved, a nature preserve with gorgeous views—his voice lacked its earlier enthusiasm.
It felt like he was going through the motions, filling the silence because sitting there not speaking would’ve been even worse.
I let him talk, half-listening, while part of me stayed trapped in the moment before I’d ruined it—when he’d leaned close and offered me freedom.
I could picture it so clearly: strolling down winding streets with the smell of salt and the sea in the air, Taylor’s hand warm and solid in mine.
Walking into shops together without checking over my shoulder.
His arm around my shoulders while we stood in line for lunch.
Kissing him on a street corner just because I wanted to—because I could.
I wanted all of that.
Desperately.
But wanting something and being able to have it were two very different things.
What would life be like if I didn’t have to pretend all the goddamn time? If I could do something as simple as hold hands with the man I—
Nope. Not going there.
I cared about Taylor. Always had, probably always would. But this was not love. It was infatuation, pure and simple. Relief at reconnecting after years apart. Lust, certainly. But definitely not love.
Why can’t it be love? my subconscious prodded. What if you never stopped loving him?
“... With the top down, the wind in your hair. Nothing like it,” Taylor continued, breaking into my thoughts, his knee bouncing. “You’ll love it.”
I swallowed around the words stuck in my throat. “I’m sure I will,” I agreed, my mind adding, “I’ll love it because it’s with you.”
The thought should have terrified me, but it didn’t. It felt like I was finally giving myself permission to want after years of denial.
When was the last time I prioritized my personal life over work obligations? Frankly, I couldn’t remember, which told me everything I needed to know.
I dragged my gaze away and reached for my iPad again, pressing the calendar icon and scanning my schedule.
Aside from a call I’d been unable to move and a Zoom meeting for a charity I was on the board of, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t reschedule or coordinate by email.
I was my own boss, and it’d been four years since I’d taken a real vacation.
I slid my iPad into the bag at my feet and then twisted to face Taylor. “About that whole imposition thing,” I began nervously.
What if he didn’t want me to stay with him for more than a couple of days? What if he wasn’t interested in finding out all of my favorite things? What if this meant more to me than it did to him?
“As if you could ever be an imposition,” he scoffed. “You’re an excellent roommate.” He leaned in close enough for me to pick up the faint scent of his cologne and dropped his voice low to add, “And I’m not just talking about the convenient orgasms.”
Right. Convenient sex. That’s all this was.
And yet …
I drew in a deep breath and tried to keep my tone casual when I asked, “Would you be okay with me crashing at your place until the end of the month?”
“Are you serious?” he exclaimed, a huge grin stretching across his face.
“Yeah. I have a few phone calls I'll need to make, but I just decided it's time for me to take a vacation, and since you live in Vacationland ..."
Taylor squirmed in his seat, his leg bouncing up and down, color rising in his cheeks. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now,” he whispered.
Surveying the cabin to make sure no one was looking, I leaned close enough to speak directly into his ear. “Once we get to your house, you can kiss me wherever and however you like. For the next two weeks, I’m yours.” I nipped his earlobe, then settled back in my seat.
Taylor’s face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily. “You’re so to pay for that.”
“Promise?” I teased with a wink as the captain’s voice announced our descent.
Outside the window, clouds gave way to the coastline, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked forward to landing somewhere quite so much.