Page 23 of Feels Like Home

He just didn’t know how to get back to his former self.

“There you go, kitten.” Ian rested his cheek against Jace’s head. “Do you want to talk about what brought on your anxiety?”

Did Jace really want to tell him that polished floors, lack of dust, and glass so clear it looked invisible had caused it? Who in their right mind freaked out over showroom cleanliness?

Apparently he did.

But he wanted to be honest with Ian. “Your sparkling-clean house. I want to run into your kitchen and place a can on your counter so it isn’t so perfect.”

When Ian leaned forward, his solid body pushed Jace up too. He took Jace’s hand and led him into the kitchen then opened his cupboards. “Un-perfect my house to your heart’s content.”

Jace snatched a can of…was he holding SpaghettiOs? They were definitely splitting that. He set the can down then grabbed two more, placing one on the glass-and-chrome table—Ian seemed to like glass—and the third by the sink.

“That’s it?” Ian arched a brow.

“Now I want to put them away because they’re making your kitchen look messy.”

Ian leaned his butt against the edge of the marble counter and crossed his arms. “It’s just me here, Jace,” he said softly. “No amazing women cluttering up the kitchen with delicious meals and laughter. No family photos adorning the walls, reminding me of happier times. Most importantly, I don’t have you here leaving traces of yourself all over the house. What you see around you is a reflection of my life. Luxurious, but devoid of love and happiness and everything else that makes a home or heart burst with joy.”

Jace blinked back tears. “I didn’t… You want that with…with me?”

The depth of emotions that had poured from Ian left Jace… He wasn’t sure. Ian had said this wasn’t casual for him, but Jace had no idea the guy felt that strongly about him.

“I want a lifetime of what you gave me earlier.”

“A blowjob?” Jace doubted that was what Ian meant.

The side of Ian’s mouth curved upward. “Definitely, but I was referring to breakfast. Sitting around the table, the connection I felt in that room, the radiating warmth that overflowed, and the gift of you sharing your family with me.” He pushed away from the counter and approached Jace. “Waking up to your soft body tucked against mine. Finding you on the floor as your shorts attack you. A sense of peace I haven’t felt in…ever.”

“You make our crazy morning sound dreamy.” Jace swallowed, unable to deny that he craved that, too. He could already imagine his clothes scattered all over the floor in the bedroom, making the space as much his as Ian’s. Spread naked across the couch on the deck as Ian made love to him. Creating a mess in the kitchen as they cooked a meal together.

“It was the best morning I’ve ever had.” He led Jace back to the couch. “There’s just one important matter we have to discuss. The reason I wanted privacy.”

“What important matter?”

Jace sat, but Ian didn’t. He stood a few feet away, tapping his thumb against his thigh.

“I need to tell you why there’s pet hair on the couch.”

Chapter Seven

Jace had no clue why Ian seemed apprehensive. They weren’t around his family, and after Ian had returned from walking out on breakfast, he’d slowly relaxed and engaged in conversation.

So why was he standing there with an indecisive look in his eyes? It was just pet hair. No big deal. Jace didn’t have any pet allergies, at least none that he knew of since he didn’t have any pets at home. He had tried, but failed, countless times to adopt strays when he was younger. Eventually, he gave up.

“Did you just recently lose a cat or dog?” That was the only thing that came to Jace’s mind. It was possible and would explain why Ian seemed tense.

“I’m trying to think of the best way to say this.” Ian chewed the side of his bottom lip. He crossed his arms and stared at the back wall of glass, seeming lost in thought.

“Just spit it out,” Jace suggested.

“This is not something you just spit out.” Ian ran a hand over his hair, and then he pulled the rubber band out, scooped his hair up, and put the rubber band back in. The loose tendrils from earlier were now corralled.

“You’re going to tell me anyway,” Jace said. “So you can spit it out, because you’re making my anxiety return, Ian.” It was building in Jace’s chest and spreading outward. “Is it something about me?”

“It’s about me… and us.” Ian finally sat next to Jace. “There’s a reason we’re so attracted to each other. A reason I’m the only person in eight years you’ve talked this much to.” Ian pressed his hand against Jace’s chest.

The warmth of his hand eased Jace’s anxiety. He liked it when Ian touched him for any reason. Like at the gym when Jace had accidentally whacked himself in the face with the mop handle.

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