16. Chapter Sixteen
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you were all packed.” Right inside the door stood a couple of stacks of boxes. Josh’s car was pretty much loaded and now we were about to find out how much my SUV held. The place was spotless, well, as much as it could be given how dated it was and the fact the landlord was a bit of a slumlord.
“Yeah, just need to grab the box from the fridge.”
“You put a box in the fridge?” Josh’s thought process at times was a bit out there.
“Yeah, so the refrigerated goods were ready to roll.” Josh grabbed that box and a couple more he could fit in then we somehow managed to wedge the rest into my vehicle and hit the road. How sad was it that as soon as we pulled into the driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief? Josh’s former life made me nervous. How he survived the brutal beatings his so-called father doled out was beyond me. Broken bones and concussions while left in the hands of the one who was meant to protect. Where had we gone wrong as a society? The young should be protected and nurtured, not abused. The elderly we should learn from, draw the historical stories they held before they’re gone.
Seeing Josh’s bright smile as we exited our vehicles brightened my dark thoughts. This was right, moving Josh in. Fast to some? Maybe. But it was the right time for us and that’s all that mattered. I was over worrying about what others thought. I had a family to focus on and they came first.
We unloaded and placed as much in my room as we could, the remainder we pushed against the living room wall. Josh said he’d get it put away or taken to storage tomorrow. I planned to tackle as much of the garage before work as I could. “All right, let’s shower and get to bed.” Josh went first while I emptied half the dresser for him. There were only a few things hanging in my closet since I mostly lived in V-neck t-shirts, so he had plenty of room if he needed it.
By the time I’d showered and returned to the room, Josh had his clothes put away and the boxes broken down. “Wow, you work fast.”
“I don’t want to leave your house a mess.” Reading between the lines was easy—Josh didn’t want to risk upsetting us and get kicked out.
“Our house and Josh, being in a relationship means we work out our differences as they arise. Kicking you out would defeat that. We’ve only just begun to build our life together and it means a lot to me that you agreed we could start it here.”
“I like it here. It’s the first actual house I’ve ever lived in.”
“Babe,” I wrapped arms around his waist and pulled him in. “We like you here. We want you here. We want you in our lives and this is our home. To build the life we want it takes you and me.”
“And Mom, too.”
“Yes, and Mom, too. Am I na?ve enough to believe it won’t be without challenges? Absolutely not. But it’s how we choose to face those hurdles and work past them that matters. I love you, Josh, and like Mom said, I’ve never given my heart before. Not because I didn’t want to but because no one before you found it.”
“You’ve been patient with me, something I haven’t had in a long time. Not since Taylor and I appreciate that. I may not be the smartest or the best looking, but I’m a good, honest man. And I’ll love you with all my heart until the day I die.”
“That’s all I ask. If any of that were to change just be real with me. It’ll hurt a hell of a lot less than to find out later our life had been a lie.” My heart was in too deep, and I believed Josh’s was, too. His past would always be there, and he’d survived by hiding away, out of view. Getting overwhelmed and bailing instead of talking it out could ruin us. Now he was thrust back into the public eye and I only hoped he was strong enough to wade through that. He wouldn’t be alone this time and maybe that would be the key to his success. That and a firm belief in himself and his abilities.
“Ha,” Josh laughed. “This is the first time I’ve been sober while in this room. I take it based upon the posters on the wall, metal wasn’t your music of choice?”
For the first time I saw my room through another’s eyes, slightly embarrassed. “What can I say, I crushed hard on Blink-182.” That shit was coming down tomorrow. Josh and I curled up in bed, I swear when I shut the light off he was still laughing.
“You make me feel like a teenager. Young, and full of life.”
“Josh, you are young and full of life.” If he wanted to be a giddy teen, then I say go for it. Considering he never got to enjoy that part of his life the first time around, I’d ride the wave alongside him and savor every moment.
“I know I’m a work in progress and always will be but honestly, I’ve never felt freer than I do now. It’s like the planets have aligned, or some shit like that.” I hissed when Josh’s hand slid down my chest and firmly gripped my cock. “Who knew sleeping naked with another human had benefits to it.”
Took me a minute before the “ah-ha” moment sank in and I remembered he’d only ever done hook-ups. “Yes.” With every stroke, my vocabulary weakened, and my toes curled. “Feels. So. Good.” Josh’s lips on that sweet pressure point on my neck, his hand working my shaft. His erection pressed against my thigh.
Hot. As. Hell.
Penetration wasn’t the only way to have sex and at times, not what the mood called for. There you go. I said it. Take away my gay card because I didn’t fucking care. I had a hot man who loved me steadily rocking my word. “Oh fuck.” And taking me right over the edge. “Whoa.”
“Whoa is right. Didn’t take you long.”
“Wha-what? Are you complaining, sir?” Dayum, my man was asking for a punishment. “Someone needs a time out. Maybe next time I get an orgasm and you don’t.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh yeah? Wanna test me?” No heat, we weren’t arguing, but this playful banter got me thinking. I could play a mean domination game, jack off in front of him. Play with myself but not let him touch me or himself, nor could he come. Oh, the evil wheels of torment spun wildly. “Game on, baby.” But not tonight. Today’s events warranted mutual orgasms. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it. But for now,” I flipped the sheets off and slid down his body, licking a stripe up his dick. “It’s my turn to make you embarrass yourself.”
Given my current train of thought, I amped up my efforts. Was that fair? Hell no, but if he blew quicker than me, I’d redeem my man card and bragging rights. Would I still get him back later for that snide comment? You bet your ass I would.
Competitive much?
With my tongue in his ass and my hand on his dick, he didn’t know which way to thrust. When he was a mumbling, panting mess, I replaced my tongue with a finger, wrapped my lips around his dick and swallowed. Right when my finger hit his spot, he blew.
Check mate.
“Wanna revisit your earlier comment?”
“You. Win.” Josh’s breathy pants nearly drowned out his words. “Can we do that again sometime?”
“Ha-ha-ha.” Gods, how I loved this man. “I don’t know about you, but I’m wiped out.”
“Ditto, babe.” Those were his last words, Josh was out when I returned from the bathroom a few minutes later.
“Goodnight, my love.” I kissed his head and curled up behind him, not waking until he thrashed around, fighting his way through another nightmare. I knew enough both from sleeping beside him and the reading I’d done on PTSD, which said to get out of the way and wait patiently until they came around. This was the first time Josh didn’t jump out of bed and storm off. Tonight, he turned away and cried.
“Josh, are you back with me?” Don’t approach until they respond, then you know the episode has passed.
“How can you love someone as broken as me?”
“Josh,” I slid back in behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tightly. “We’ve had this conversation before. I love you because of you. You can’t control this.” A couple times I’d mentioned therapy but ultimately that was Josh’s decision to make. If I beat that point to death he may walk away, and I wouldn’t risk that.
Sleep was elusive, I only managed to lightly doze off and on as I lay there worried about Josh. As soon as the sun rose, I got up, made coffee, and started on the garage. Too much nervous energy to sit still. I wanted to help Josh so badly but had no clue how to without risk of offending him.
“You’re up early, everything okay?” Mom’s voice startled me.
“Rough night.” Wasn’t my story to tell, but this was Mom and we kept nothing from each other.
“I heard some hollering, care to explain what that was about?” Mom didn’t miss a trick. I always teased that she had Vulcan hearing. She called it mom hearing and at one point convinced me she could read my every thought. Took about three months before I figured it out. Not the brightest eight-year-old, I’d admit.
I sighed and pulled up an old milk crate to sit on. “Josh suffers from PTSD and has nightmares from it.”
“That poor boy. Was he in the military?” Of course, that’s the first reaction most have. I’d found in my research that PTSD was a result of various forms of trauma and wasn’t solely relegated to those who served in the armed forces.
“No. It’s the result of a horribly abusive childhood.” Even I didn’t know the depths of it, nor was I sure I’d be able to handle that knowledge if I had.
“He needs us, Reagan. Love. Love will heal all.” While I knew she meant well, and she truly believed that, in this case I knew better. Love and support would help, and we’d be there along his journey, but the depth of Josh’s issues required a professional that specialized in PTSD and ways to manage it.
“Did I miss something?” Josh walked in, groggy, and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning, love.” Momma hugged him. “I’ll get breakfast started.”
Once she was out of earshot, he asked the question I’d anticipated. “What’s going on?”
How did I word this, so he didn’t immediately pack his bags and leave? That’s not what any of us wanted. Josh was a flight guy, a defense mechanism that ran deep. “Have a seat, babe.”
“I’d rather stand. Doesn’t sound like I’m gonna like what you have to say.” Josh crossed his arms, striking a defensive pose. Not off to a good start.
“Babe, it’s the opposite. Remember our conversation last night? We talk through shit. That’s what this is. Come here.” I pulled him in for a morning kiss. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he groaned. “What did I do?”
“Josh, it’s not like that. We’re just worried about you.”
“Fuck,” he ran his hands through his hair and tugged. “I knew I’d fuck it up. Twenty-four hours is a new record. I’ll pack my shit.”
“The hell you will. Sit.” The demand in my words left no room for argument and once he did, I continued. “Bailing isn’t the way to fix this. You and me, we’re stronger than that. Mom is stronger than that. We want to help you get through this and that doesn’t require separate houses or separate beds.” When he still wouldn’t look at me, I knelt in front of him and moved his hands so I could see his face. “What part of I love you, that I’m in love with you are you struggling with? Do I need to say it more? Shout it from the roof tops? What? I. Love. You. I am here to help you but there is only so much I can do in this case. You need a professional to help you through your past trauma.”
Much to my surprise, he agreed. “You’re right. But I don’t know where to begin to look. The only doctors I’ve ever been to were in times of emergencies.” No primary care, no pediatric care. Every time he shared more with me the desire to hunt down that man he called a father and have it out with him deepened. “Do you have any ideas?”
“I do but you may not like it. I would ask Stoli.” When he began to protest, I held up my hand. “Vulnerable. I get it, that’s how you feel, but he will either have a contact for you or know of someone who does that will keep this completely confidential. They are all about anonymity and that is what you need. Plus, exposing that side of yourself to him may strengthen the bond you’re building. But that is very personal and a decision only you can make.”
Like a million others I’d already tossed his way.