59. FIFTY-NINE
FIFTY-NINE
I’m sweating.
Profusely.
Whoever invented grey suits needs to be fired.
Right now.
Oh fucking god .
I get off the bus, shaking like a limp, dying leaf.
I googled this spot because it’s out in the open.
People are everywhere. And if anything goes wrong, I can jump on another bus to flee.
I’m still in the downtown area, with brick buildings looming everywhere, and it’s close enough to Abel’s clinic that I can run there.
Escape routes and witnesses.
Glancing at the pit stains forming in my suit jacket, I swallow hard and cross the street to the empty water fountain.
A few benches are scattered, and pedestrians in their winter coats walk by.
I sit on a bench, my knee bouncing and my thumb between my lips.
I tear at the skin, the nail, whatever I can grab.
Pain shoots through the digit, but it’s serving as a temporary distraction and staving off the impending vomit.
What if I just puke all over his fancy loafers the minute he shows up?
Hunter said it’d take him about thirty minutes to get here, so I have a few minutes left to collect myself.
I decided to keep the fact that I’m staying with his physician a secret for now.
I’m also bracing for more heartbreak. He says he’s going to prove that he’s choosing me, but I’ll remain skeptical.
The way my heart is pounding, though, is proving that regardless of my skepticism, I’m hoping.
I’m hoping and wishing and praying that he’s real.
That we have a chance.
The minutes tick by as I watch people come and go. Some enter shops, others grab piping hot coffee from the cafe a few stores down. So many people are unaware of the potential carnage that’s about to happen.
What if I die?
What if I can’t take the pain of losing him again and just keel over right here on the sidewalk? Will they stop and look? Or will they fall into the evil category and walk past my suffering like usual?
I’m spiraling.
Scared shitless.
Sick with yearning.
Please don’t break my heart again. Please.
I shoot to my feet when I see his car cruising up the street. My art canvas is tucked under my arm, I can see my panting breaths in front of my face, but I’m burning up.
The car parks a ways down from me. Sound dims all around me when he gets out. I spot his hair, that effortlessly styled look from years of pushing the strands back. Then I see his clean-shaven face. His beard is gone.
My heart thumps faster and faster.
Dressed in some blue jeans and his peacoat, he steps onto the sidewalk, walking towards me in… hiking boots?
His signature suit and tie are nowhere to be found as a man I barely recognize prowls closer. Determination lines his jaw, his eyes fixated on me, and if I look past the obvious exhaustion in them, I see something desperate and wild.
His cologne breaches my senses first, the wind easily carrying it directly into my nostrils.
Up close, the smooth face and missing business attire make me question whether this is Hunter.
Without the beard and suit, he looks so young.
He's so fucking handsome. It takes my breath away and makes my knees buckle.
“Gray,” he rasps. Even after only two days, hearing his voice sends a swarm of butterflies loose in my belly.
“I got a job.” It bursts from my lips as I cling to my canvas like a shield.
He glances down at it, then back at me. The dimples that always warred with his facial hair are clear as a blue sky as they pop in his cheeks, smiling at me and warming me from the inside out. “I knew you would.”
“It’s at a warehouse and—” He steps closer. My insides swoop, and I stutter. “I-I load the t-trucks.”
His advances don’t falter. He’s right in front of me now. The heat from his breath whips across my cheeks, and his hand lifts. “You’ve been busy.”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“The suit looks good.” He doesn’t ask where I got it. And he also doesn’t look around to see who is watching. That hand plucks at the suit jacket lapel, and I shiver. “Sorry.” He takes a step back and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.
“You shaved,” I say, changing the subject.
“It was time.”
“What…what else have you been doing?”
He searches my face, and I feel my cheeks heat. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
“Okay.”
A nervous laugh bubbles out of him, and he shakes his head before quickly raking a hand through his hair. “I had this whole speech planned, and now that I’m here and you look…you look so confident, I feel like it’s not good enough.”
I don’t feel very confident. I might just shit my pants. “Tell me anyway.”
“I’ll never be able to undo what I did. It’s something I have to accept.
When the time came to buck up, I cowered.
Everything I said to you the other night…
every word was just a scapegoat. A way to disguise what I was doing as something else.
And I hurt you. I’ve never wanted to hurt you, and I did it anyway because I was scared of hurting myself more.
When you left, I realized just how deep my selfishness goes. ”
He’s not completely selfish. I know he’s not, but that night, what he did and said was selfish.
“Keep going.”
Taking a breath, he straightens his shoulders and says, “Coming out didn’t hurt me. Not in the way I thought it would. Other than my dad, no one seems to fucking care. And he already knew about me. I don’t think he’ll ever stop hating me.” The way his voice breaks tugs at my heartstrings.
There’s that pesky feeling returning with vengeance. Care. I care so much about this man that I’m willing to push aside all of this just so he doesn’t hurt.
But I can’t. Not yet.
He hasn’t proven himself.
These are just words and hope is for assholes.
I need proof. Tangible evidence that he means what he’s saying.
“I told you that we could never have a real relationship. That it’d have to be a secret.
The first time you needed me, I pushed you away out of fear.
I’ve hidden you, lied about you, used every trick in the book to keep what I feel for you in check.
And I did it knowing that you were holding nothing back.
I did it knowing you trusted me fully. I hate that I couldn’t see what you showed me, Gray. But I see it now. I swear that I do.”
“What do you see?” I ask.
“Strength isn’t measured by how much weight you can carry.
Strength is courage. Strength is seeing what you want and going for it, no matter what anyone says.
It’s persevering and putting one foot in front of the other.
It’s never giving up. I want to fly a fucking airplane for a living.
” His eyes are so green and bright. “I want to sell my house and have you paint a new mural on our home. I want to take you out on a fucking date and kiss you hard. I want to tell you how I feel when I feel it. I want to be your sanctuary and your stepping stone. And most of all,” he stops to take my hand.
The contact sends zings up my arm. “I want you to know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I will do whatever it takes to be the man you deserve. ”
My lip quivers as my eyes well up with fresh tears. “You’re doing it."
His brows furrow as our bodies grow even closer. “Doing what, sweetheart?”
“Giving me my movie moment,” I croak, a loud sniffle follows. “I thought it was all bullshit and—”
“ This is true love. You think this happens every day? ” he says in his best Wesley voice, smiling, and I fold.
I fucking fold.
“That was terrible.”
“It was pretty cheesy.” Warm hands cup my cheeks, and I squeeze the canvas in my hand tighter. “I’m sorry , Gray. For ever making you hurt, for scaring you and pushing you away. I was the biggest idiot in the world for not chasing after you.”
I nuzzle into his touch, needing it like I need to breathe. “You still have to prove it, though.”
“Ah.” He smiles, sweet and tender. “I think I have an idea.”
With endless eyes all around us, Hunter dips his head and brushes his lips over mine.
It’s like an electric shock, restarting my heart, and when he deepens it, kissing me like that first time, I drop the canvas, not caring if it breaks.
My hands dig into his sides, fisting the material of his coat.
“I’m not hiding you anymore,” he whispers against my lips. “I want everyone to know who I love.”
I cling to him while we kiss for long seconds, his hands trembling and his back muscles flexing. When we separate, I steal one more before asking, “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”
“I’m scared,” he admits with a timid smile. “I…I’ve never done this before.”
“Kiss in public?”
He nods, swallows, then drops his hands to palm my waist. “It’s scary. I’m expecting pitchforks and rotten tomatoes.”
I glance around us, and other than one old lady blatantly staring with her mouth open, no one gives us a second look. “Afraid the media will see?”
He shakes his head. “No. Residual fear. But I’ll be okay. I want to do this with you. Kiss you.” He does, snatching up my lips for a quick, hot kiss. “Hold you and touch you.” Hands slide up my sides before squeezing the meat on my hips. “And I don’t want to keep it behind a closed door.”
I pull him into me, wrapping my arms tightly around his middle and pressing my cheek to his collarbone. When he returns the embrace, my eyes flutter closed, and I simply breathe in his scent. “I missed you,” I admit softly. “I thought you moved on and forgot me.”
“After two days?” he chuckles.
I pinch his back and he yelps. “Yes. You have a pattern.”
“ Had ,” he corrects before rubbing soothing strokes up and down my spine. “I missed you too, sweetheart. So fucking much. And I could never forget you.”
Pressing a kiss to his chest, I lean back to look into his eyes. “I’m staying with Abel and Marie.”
This takes him by surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. They’re…nice. I’m going to stay with them while I save up and work on getting more hours. I don’t think my boss trusts me yet.”
“You can stay with me. You can always stay with me.”
I had a feeling he would say that. “I know…”
“But?” he pries.
Toying with his coat, I bite my lip and admit, “I don’t want to rely on you like that. I don’t want to go with you and have…have that happen again.”
“It won’t.”
“You can’t promise that, and I wouldn’t believe you even if you did.”
This obviously upsets him, but he blows out a breath through his nose and nods. “For how long? How long will you stay with them?”
I shrug. “However long I need to.”
“Gray, I’m serious about this. Us. If you need time, I’ll give you that, but I want to be with you, live with you. Is that not something you want?”
“I need to be independent,” I say a bit harsher than intended.
“I need to do this. I’m not cut out to be like…
some pampered house-partner. This job is just the first step.
If I go with you now, I’ll rely on you for everything.
Abel and I were talking this morning, and he was showing me those pamphlets.
There are a lot of resources I didn’t know I could use.
Places and people who can give me the tools I need to be better. ”
“Like the shelter?”
“No,” I laugh. “Therapists to help with…my bullshit. Social workers to help with job stuff and transportation. I could get free driving classes through their programs. I could—”
“I get it,” he says gently. “Can I do anything to help?”
I think about it, searching his face. His eyes are soft and focused, waiting patiently for anything he can do. “I want you to fly.”
“Fly…”
Sliding my hands up his chest to either side of his neck, I kiss him. “Use your pilot’s license. Do the things you always wanted to but never could. That’s how you can help. Don’t let yourself stay stagnant. If I’m going to grow, so are you.”
He frowns. “That sounds like we’d be seeing a whole lot less of each other, Gray.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way, but he’s right. We would be busy with everything else. “It’s what I want.”
The look on his face tells me he wants to argue. Maybe this is the selfishness he was going on about before. But something changes in his expression, a silent understanding washes over him. “Will you be with me, still?”
“In what way?” I know what he’s asking, but I want to hear him say it. Because as far as I’m concerned, he’s been mine even without an official label.
“With me. Mine. My…partner, boyfriend, whatever name you want. Exclusive. Committed. No one else.”
“Do you really need to ask that?”
“Yes, I do, because I’m in love with you, and that’s never happened before.”
Stroking my thumbs over his cheeks, I press another kiss to his lips. I can’t stop fucking kissing them. “You’re mine, Hunter. No matter what we’re doing or where we are, you’re mine. If it wasn’t clear as day how much I love you before, it better be now.”
He crushes me to him, squeezing me hard and nuzzling the side of my head. “Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”