Page 79 of Set Fire to This Cardhouse

“I’m thinking.” Mike hesitates. “Just trying to come up with reasons to make you stay.”

What is he talking about? “I have every reason to stay.”

“Do you?” Mike’s voice holds a challenge. He covers Toby’s hand with his own, stopping its exploration and forcing Toby to direct his full attention to Mike’s face. When their gazes meet, Mike’s expression is unreadable, his forehead smooth. Toby can only hope he is doing an equally good job of hiding his thoughts, but it’s hard to stay impassive when he’s so very aware of the bite mark on Mike’s shoulder, brightly outlined by sunlight, and all Toby wants is to touch it, ensure himself it’s really there. That he did that.

Maybe they aren’t so different after all.

Mike’s eyes narrow. “How long are you staying?”

Toby shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” Mike blinks once, a tiny crack in the facade, and Toby digs his fingers into Mike’s bicep.

“That’s what I just said—I don’t know.”

“You mean to tell me that you came here without a plan? You?” Mike’s expression breaks open, disbelief creeping into his tone along with something else, something that sounds like amazement. “You just hopped on a flight and showed up at my door?”

Toby shrugs awkwardly, his position making him abort the gesture. “What, is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all.” Angling his body towards Toby, Mike eases his grip on Toby’s hand. “Not in the least.”

His smile is small, the beginning of one rather than anything fully expressed. Toby frees his hand to trace its shape and watches as it expands under his fingertips. Inhaling the fresh, clean air of what smells like a summer morning, Toby can’t help but smile back.

“If you must know, I left Matt a message just before I flew out, asked him if he wanted to bring Haley here for her break. Which starts in two weeks, so that’s—” He drops his hand and looks away, at the curtains blowing in the breeze. They’re fascinating. Really. “I was planning to stay at least that long, if that’s all right with you.” When Mike doesn’t immediately reply, Toby shifts back. “I should probably check my phone, see whether he tried to reach me.”

He is prevented from moving further back when Mike’s hand closes around his elbow. “Tell Matt he should come.” Mike’s tone is certain. “They can stay here with us. Haley would love it, the beach and all, and I can teach her how to surf. There’s enough room for four people.”

Toby stares at him. Mike meets his gaze evenly, and what is this—some misguided craving for a taste of family, something Mike didn’t get to experience nearly long enough?

“We could find a hotel,” Toby says slowly. “It wouldn’t be a problem, you know. I hear there’s plenty of hotels on this island, what with that whole tourist destination thing it’s got going on. I was somewhat preoccupied when I arrived, but I did see the ads at the airport.”

“Hotels are expensive.” Mike keeps his hand on Toby’s elbow. “Don’t you think Haley would prefer this? I’ve got the beach right here, and it’s way better than some crowded, anonymous hotel complex.” He pauses. “Don’t you prefer this?”

“You’re serious.” Toby doesn’t dare move, but his chest feels lighter when Mike’s lips curve upwards, enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes, and Jesus, that’s not fair. There is no way Toby can be expected to cling to even a shred of caution when Mike is looking at him like that, all soft-eyed and hopeful.

“You came all this way to see me.”

“Yeah.” Toby swallows and suppresses the need to clear his throat. “You realize we need to talk at some point.”

A faint line appears between Mike’s brows. “We do?”

“We do.” Toby’s brain wants to twist the statement, take it back as soon as it’s out because talking is where problems start. Why talk when their bodies get along just splendidly? He continues anyway. “Yes, Michael, we do. I know the concept of relationships is somewhat of a novelty to you—” Fuck, Toby didn’t mean to say that. Didn’t mean to get ahead of himself because yeah, he flew to Honolulu for Mike, but a relationship? That’s a whole different level, and Toby might have implied it with his dinner invitation back in Singapore, sure, but he had an excuse, could blame a sticky situation and the very real risk of death for losing his head. Mike doesn’t do relationships, right?

Mike’s grip on Toby’s elbow tightens, and Toby fights not to flinch. “What?”

“So this is a relationship?” Mike asks.

“I don’t know,” Toby says. “You tell me.”

“Why don’t you start?”

“Why should I?”

For a few seconds, Mike is silent. It’s long enough that Toby becomes overly aware of the rush of the ocean, loud in his ears even though he knows, rationally, it isn’t actually that noisy. Mike doesn’t take his hand away, though, his palm warm on Toby’s skin.

When he does speak, his voice is soft. “Okay. How about—I’m going to take a swim, okay?” He doesn’t leave Toby time to interrupt. “I always do that in the mornings. I’ll be back in an hour, and you can go running or chill or whatever else it is that you want to do. Explore the house or the beach, whatever.” A short pause while Mike draws an audible breath. “And when we both get back, we’ll talk.”

“You need to mentally prepare yourself for this, huh?” Toby’s grin falls short, and Mike shakes his head, no hint of amusement in his eyes.

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