Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Riley had been pretty sure Wes had been working up to something, between the light, cutely inept flirting, and the blush that stole onto his cheeks every time he caught Riley looking back at him, and the not-all-that-surprising tidbit about his previous experience frequenting the only good gay bar in the county.
But he hadn't exactly known how far Wes would take things.
Blatant invitation to sex hadn't even been on Riley's radar.
Another date or two, some handholding…hell, the man had just gotten out of a five-year marriage.
Riley was willing to go slow. Especially if it meant he had a chance with the guy he'd been oh-so-careful not to crush on since the moment they met.
But this was…something else. He studied Wes's face. His cheeks were a little red, his skin contrasting adorably with his green eyes. But he didn't look like he was joking. To the contrary, he looked deadly serious.
Riley swallowed with difficulty. "Ah—"
"You're not interested—it's okay, pretend I never said—"
"Wait." Riley let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "Just, let me talk for a second, okay?"
Wes closed his mouth.
"Sorry. I’m interested, of course I'm interested, Wes. I mean—look at you. I've had to tell myself every day for two years not to be interested just to keep my sanity, okay?"
Wes's shoulders lost their rigidity, and he parted his lips again as if he was about to say something.
Riley raised a hand to stop him. "But we're going from zero to sixty here, Wes, and I don't know if I can keep up."
"Right, of course, sorry. It's just—" Wes bit his lip and Riley actually had to hold back a groan because that sight was the hottest thing ever and he'd just told the man that he was moving too fast for him. Dumbass.
"I better tell you about Georgia, and then you'll see why I…why I asked you to—you know.”
"I'm listening.”
Wes squared his shoulders, then rested his head against the back of the booth, fiddling with the coaster under his beer but not drinking.
"Well, back in my Camp days, there was this guy.
I hadn't lived in Connecticut very long, and I hadn't been out very long, either.
I fell kind of hard, thought this was it, that we were in love and all that jazz.
When it turned out we weren't, or he wasn't anyway, I walked straight out of his place where I found him screwing another guy and into the first bar I saw. And I met Georgia."
He paused and an unhappy smile flitted across his face.
"She was drunk, at some bachelorette party for a friend from work or something, soused on shots.
I was angry enough, hurt enough to let her talk me into coming home with her.
She was pretty and fun, and I was drunk enough to think a palate cleanser was a good idea.
Three weeks later she tells me she's pregnant.”
Riley felt the words like a punch to the gut. This story wasn't going anywhere good.
"She had to track me down at the school where I teach because we hadn’t even exchanged numbers.
” Wes shook his head as if reliving the memory.
“Three weeks after that we got married at City Hall.
Three weeks after that, she miscarried. And three weeks after that, I told her I was gay and wanted out and she told me her grandfather had left her a huge trust fund, but she couldn't access it until she was thirty-five unless she was married.
Then she could get it at twenty-eight. In five years.
She gave me my freedom—she didn't want me, she just wanted the piece of paper saying we were married—but I couldn't…
I couldn't be with someone else while still being married, even if it was a marriage in name only.
I guess I'm kind of stupidly traditional that way. "
Wes stared hard at his beer. Riley was glad Wes didn't have to see the expression of pure helplessness he knew was on his face.
"And I felt bad, you know, that I'd led her on, that she lost the baby. We were both pretty broken up about that, actually. So I stayed. We lived together the whole time, like roommates. Until yesterday.” Wes shook his head again, this time as if waking up from a bad dream.
“She turned twenty-eight three months ago, got her trust fund, we got the divorce rolling, and here I am. Thirty, divorced. And I haven't had sex in half a decade."
Wes looked up, finally met Riley's gaze. He tried to school his face into neutrality, not let on that his heart was breaking for his friend.
"So for you, I'm moving fast, and I apologize. But I've wanted you every day for two years and I just…I didn't want to wait any more."
Riley felt the words wash over him. He felt Wes's trust, his vulnerability, his need pulsing between them. "Then let's not wait any longer.”
He stood up and held out his hand, steady and sure. Wes looked at it, then put his hand in Riley's. Riley pulled him out of the booth, so they were standing face to face, a foot apart, still clasping hands.
Wes was a couple of inches shorter than Riley, but he was still a pretty big guy.
He was strong. He was beautiful, too. Riley had never wanted anybody the way he wanted Wes.
His heart was full for the man standing in front of him, the man holding his hand.
It was so full he couldn't find his voice, until Wes quirked up one side of his mouth and said, "I thought we weren't waiting. "
"Right." Riley shook himself out of his thoughts, cleared his clogged throat. "I live five blocks from here."
"Lead the way."
They took their time, even though it was dark and cold on that December night, but once they'd made the decision there was no rush.
Riley had to let go of Wes's hand so they could shrug into jackets and pay their tab, but he took it again once they were outside, needing the contact, needing to preserve some semblance of his first-date ritual.
“Okay if we walk?” he asked.
“Sure. My car will be fine on the street.”
As they left Main Street for the residential side streets that radiated out from the main drag, Riley tried not to build up what was going to happen in his mind. It had been a few months since he'd slept with anyone but five years. Damn. That was a long time.
"Stop thinking about it," Wes said, startling Riley.
"Sorry."
"I wouldn't have told you, but—"
"It's okay," Riley broke in. "I'm glad you did. You have a habit of not telling me much. It's a habit I'd like to see you break."
"Yeah?" Wes squeezed Riley's hand, looked at him sideways. "I could tell you some things."
"Like what?"
"Like your eyes keep me company when I'm bored at school. I try to figure out what color they are."
Riley laughed and ducked his head. He'd had no idea that Wesley had thought that much about him. It made him feel heady and light.
“Aren’t they plain old brown?”
Wes laughed, a sweet sound that Riley felt right in his gut. “Sometimes."
Then he stopped walking, tugged Riley toward him. Riley felt the pull with every cell in his body.
Riley remembered to speak. “Only sometimes?”
"Right now they look brown, like the coffee I drink every morning."
Riley couldn't stop staring at Wes's lips.
"But in the morning, when the sun’s streaming through the coffee shop’s windows, they're more golden. Like a cat’s.”
"Wes?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking so I can kiss you."
Wes's eyes widened a fraction, but he stayed quiet.
Riley leaned in, closing his eyes at the last second, his hands finding Wes's waist, the tips of his ears cold in the December night air, but his mouth, god, his mouth was burning up the second he touched Wes’s lips with his.
They were soft and yielding and he tasted sweetly sour like the yeasty beer they'd been drinking.
Riley kept the kiss light, because they were still a couple of blocks from his place and if he went much farther, those two blocks would be painful.
He nipped one last kiss on the corner of Wes's mouth, pulled back.
Wes's eyes were closed, and his nose was a little red.
His lips looked wet and pink and—fuck it—Riley had to go back for another taste.
This time, he slid his hand around Wes's lower back, pressing him closer, and Wes went, melting into his chest, tipping his head up to give Riley more access. Wes opened his mouth, just a little, and the feel of his tongue sneaking along the seam of Riley’s mouth had him rock hard and panting in two seconds.
Riley sucked at the tip of Wesley's tongue and they both groaned.
It was torture, but Riley pulled away a second time, breathing hard. "We—we gotta keep moving. Two more blocks."
They stumbled together, hands finding each other again, but closer this time. They clung to each other as they navigated the sidewalk like they were traversing Antarctica in a blizzard.
"So, I know I'm a little rusty but that was good, right?" Wes said with a short laugh.
"Fucking amazing." Riley watched the smile bloom on Wes's face. Shit. He was a goner.
"Yeah." Wesley cleared his throat, affected a bored tone. "That's what I thought."
Riley couldn't keep the silly grin off his face for the rest of the walk.