Chapter 27
Circus
The tear of wheels through gravel echoes in the quiet house. It sets me on edge. Only Leon and Rowan know where I live, and Leon was having an early night tonight.
Rowan … Well, I’d assumed he was going to have some quiet time at home.
But if it’s not him, it’s some random person at my house at night, and I’d prefer not to get murdered just when I’m starting to make plans. I mean, I had basically no future a month ago—couldn’t a potential murder have been scheduled for then?
I cautiously approach the front door, wondering if I should have consulted the 8-Ball. Too late now.
Footsteps are coming down the front entrance, and it’s only just now occurring to me that some kind of peephole probably would have been a good investment.
I jump as someone knocks heavily on the door.
“Circus!”
Oh, thank God.
“Circus!”
I scramble to unlock the door, and my smile splits my face when I open it to see Rowan standing there.
And then I take in his expression.
“Holy shit, are you okay?”
He drops his bag with a thump, then steps forward and pulls me in for a hug. He grips me hard, and I’m shocked into silence.
What the hell is going on?
Rowan’s face presses into my neck, and his shoulders start to shake with quiet sobs. Whatever this is, it isn’t good.
The bag, the crying.
Ohhh holy no …
Did they find out?
Because I’m an incredibly smart human, it’s only just now hitting me how stupid those photos were. I bet they’ve seen them. And if they saw them and disowned him because of it …
I wrap my arms around him tighter and shift us away from the door. I kick it closed, turn the lock, and then sink into the hug.
If all of this is because of me, there’s no way we’ll be able to get past it.
Rowan’s crying starts to calm.
“Do you want to talk about it or get drunk?”
He sighs against my shoulder and pulls away, revealing red eyes. “Can we fuck instead?”
I laugh. “I’ve created a monster.”
That doesn’t stop him from taking my hand and dragging me into my bedroom.
“Are you sure about this?” The speed he’s undressing in has me worried.
“Completely. Now strip.”
“I feel like you’re deflecting emotion or some shit …”
Rowan pauses, left only in his boxer briefs, and stalks toward me. His fingers are gentle as he reaches for my shirt and pulls it over my head. “We’ll talk after.” His lips skim my jaw. “Right now, I just want to get lost in you.”
I tweak his nipple. “Are you calling me loose?”
His smile is fast but there, and it gives me a little hope. “You’re perfect.”
Well then. With sweet talking like that, he can get as lost as he likes.
He kisses me hard, and it’s the most confident he’s ever seemed as he strips me and walks me backward toward the bed.
Rowan breaks away from me long enough to get a condom and lube, and then he’s back on me. And whatever’s come over him, I don’t hate it. He works me open with his fingers, and when he finally slides inside my body, I know what he means about getting lost.
He consumes me. His kisses, his rough hands, and with every rock of his hips he pegs my prostate, grinding as deep as he can manage.
“This, this is what I need,” he pants.
His glazed eyes open and meet mine. I’ve always hated eye contact during sex, but for some reason, whenever Rowan does it, I can’t look away.
He’s so open and vulnerable.
I want him always.
His thrusting picks up, and I hurry to grab my cock to give it some relief.
It only takes a few quick jerks before I’m spilling over my hand, and Rowan’s not far behind me.
He collapses on top of me in a sweaty, panting heap, and I reach up to run my fingers through his hair as I try to catch my breath.
He doesn’t seem to be crying again which is an improvement.
Rowan pulls out and ditches the condom, but when I expect him to cuddle back in close to me, he settles against the headboard instead.
I reach for a shirt to wipe off my hand and stomach, then clean up the lube from my ass as best as I can. That shirt is headed for the trash.
By the time I crawl up next to him, Rowan’s resting his head in his hands, and all the confidence he had during sex has completely disappeared.
I kiss his hair. “Ready to talk yet?”
“Talking is the last thing I want to do.”
“Yep. I got that impression.” I try for comforting. “Want to do it anyway?”
When he looks up again, the eyes that had been so full of lust a moment ago look sad. “I came out. To my family.”
“Holy shit …” Probably not the most supportive response, but what does he expect? I’m legitimately in shock. “I have so many questions.”
“Basically, Grandpa was going on with his shit and said you were trying to turn me gay. I said there’s no way for you to turn me when I’ve been gay my whole life. And that’s pretty much the whole story.”
My heart is beating faster. “You mean … you didn’t have to? You … you came out on purpose?”
His forehead wrinkles up. “Sort of? I guess. It’s more that I was so mad and so tired of everything he was saying that I lost my mind over it.”
He doesn’t get it. Maybe he was angry or tired or whatever, but it doesn’t matter what emotion was behind it because he said the words. And he meant to. “How many times has he said all those same things?”
Rowan shrugs. “I don’t know. Hundreds.”
“And did you ever come out before now?”
“Well, no, obviously.”
“Exactly.” I lick my lips and lean in a little so he’s paying attention. “You were ready. And I’m so proud of you.”
“I couldn’t let him talk shit about you. I just couldn’t.”
“You did last time,” I point out. Not to make him feel bad, but because I want him to know this was all him. I’m almost too scared to ask the next question. “What happened then?”
“I bolted. The last thing I wanted was to stick around there and have them tell me how they really felt.”
I doubt it’s what I would have done, but who the hell am I to know? I never had to deal with the whole coming out thing. My mom always assumed I was straight until Rowan started coming around, always, and Dad picked up on it. Then they sat me down and told me they approved.
They didn’t even give me a chance to go through all that emotional angst.
So what Rowan’s going through … I’m the last person who can give advice.
The fact he didn’t stay and face them though, it makes me hope that maybe they won’t all react the way he thinks they will.
“I’m glad you knew you could come to me,” I finally say, reaching for his hand and linking our fingers together.
He tries to smile. “Not like I had anywhere else to go.”
“Wow. Way to make a boy feel special.”
That gets a laugh, even if it’s a weak one. His thumb runs over the back of my hand. “You, umm, are, you know.”
“What?”
“Special.” Rowan pins me with his stare. “Especially to me.”
His words make me unsettled, cloaking me in a completely foreign warmth that no one but him has ever made me feel before.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been special to anyone.”
“What?” He turns to look at me. “What about your friends? And I swear everyone in town just lights up when you talk to them.”
“It’s cute you think that.”
“Because it’s true.”
I press my lips against a smile. Tonight is not a happy kind of night, but when he says things like that, how am I supposed to react? “Well, I also think the same about you.”
“At least we’ve got each other.”
“Nope.” I wriggle closer. “None of that. We’re not going to be one of those couples who are completely reliant on each other. Tonight, we’re going to sulk and curse the world, but tomorrow you need to reach out to your sisters at least.”
He sighs. “I’ll call Leita. At least I think she’ll be okay. God—” He rubs his forehead. “I don’t think I could survive if I never saw my nephews again.”
“That won’t happen.” I squeeze his hand tighter, hoping I’m not just talking out of my ass. “And Piper?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. But I guess this thing just happens one day at a time.”
“Exactly.”
He lets out a long breath as he hangs his head back. “I feel so sick.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Because I’m kind of relieved as well. There’s no hiding anymore, and if I know my mom, she’ll already be on the phone talking about it so … yeah. I guess it’s done.”
Unfortunately, he’s probably right about that. Lori Taylor, Joan Everett, and Brenda Harvey are like the town criers when it comes to spreading news.
I reach over and trace the tattoos on Rowan’s hand.
Nerves settle in my gut as I consider what I’m about to offer.
“You can probably, you know, pick a bedroom or something while you’re here.
Not tonight though—I want you in here. I just mean if you have nowhere else to stay and you wanted to, like, move in, but not in a moving in together kind of way …
” That thought needs to immediately stop before I sound like even more of an idiot. “Sorry, rambling.”
He chuckles. “It’s cute. You’re not usually a rambler.”
“I don’t usually ask my boyfriend to move in with me though either.”
He doesn’t immediately respond, and when I look up, his eyes have gone all wide.
It hits me.
Oh no, I dropped the b word. Well freaking done, Circus, you damn animal.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Now it’s my turn to look like I’ve been hit in the face with a frying pan. “You … what?”
He nods. “I love you. And I want that.”
I’m still in shock. “To … move in, or …?”
“To move in, like, in a separate room, of course. And to be boyfriends.”
“Not roommates?”
He shakes his head. “Some dumb idiot told me roommates never works.”
“He sounds wise.” I push up and climb over Rowan’s lap so I’m straddling him. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
“And you love me?”
He goes to look away, but I quickly grab his face. “Yes.”
“Good. Because I love you too. And this time, there’s no running away.”