"You don't want—"
He pressed a finger against my lips. "It's your stories. I want to know all of them." His lips found that worst scar at my collarbone, and I shivered.
I gripped his face between my hands and stared deep into his eyes. A confession spilled out before I could stop it. "I dream about losing you. The fire consumes you. I can't reach you in time, and—"
Holden cut the words off with another kiss. He fiercely claimed my lips. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." He began sliding his body downward, trailing his lips and tongue over my chest and the hairy trail in the center of my abs. I gasped when he opened the button at the top of my jeans.
"I… I… Holden, it's been a long time."
He looked up with that damned familiar grin on his face. "I haven't been with anyone since back in Portland, so we can be clumsy together."
I had to laugh. None of my intimate partners ever said anything like that. He was giving us complete and open permission to be ourselves. When did that ever happen between two naked men?
The sound of my jeans unzipping filled the silence between us. I tangled my fingers into Holden's hair while he tugged the waistband of my boxers down, causing my cock to break free of any restraint, standing upright as it pointed toward the ceiling.
Holden stared in wonder. I knew what was going on. He'd found something else he thought was beautiful, and I couldn't stop a small smile from animating the corners of my mouth.
When he took the head of my cock into his mouth, lightly flicking the head with his tongue, I gripped the couch firmly. It was the kind of connection I'd wanted with him from the moment I first saw him, but I knew we couldn't fit. I was a square peg pushing middle age while he remained a young…
"Unnhhh! Close… damn…"
It didn't take me long. I'd been taking care of my pressing needs with my hand since I left Chicago. Gripping Holden's hair tightly in my fist, I arched my hips and grunted louder. I'd neverbeen a noisy man in bed, but with him, I could barely restrain myself. Muttering, "Ahh fuck," I erupted into his mouth, and he swallowed.
It was the sexiest thing I'd experienced in many years. Holden pulled back and stared at me while he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. He grinned and then kissed me. It tasted like me with a lingering hint of chocolate.
Holden snuggled up by my side, and I pressed a hand against his chest, staring into his eyes. "But you didn't… isn't it your turn?"
"I did precisely what I meant to do. Counting on this not being the last time, we can take care of anything else later."
I grinned and pushed my head into his shoulder, sniffing that sandalwood smell.
Later, wrapped in blankets and each other, I told Holden everything. The words poured out like water let loose by a broken dam. I explained that Jenkins had shown me pictures of his kids that morning and that Martinez had been practicing his wedding vows in the locker room. I explained how the fire spread faster than anyone predicted and how the choices I'd made in split seconds still haunted me.
He listened with his head on my chest, tracing patterns on my scarred skin with his fingertips. He didn't try to fix anything. He merely witnessed my pain, letting it exist without trying to paint over it.
"The memorial service," I finally said, voice rough. "I don't know if I can—"
"You can." He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. "And I'll be there if you want me to be."
"You'd do that?"
"Of course, but I should warn you—I'll probably bring snacks. Emotional support pretzels are very important."
A laugh escaped before I could catch it. "You're crazy."
"Maybe." His expression turned serious. "But I'm also right. You don't have to do this alone, Wade. Any of it."
"Stay tonight?" The question slipped out before I could catch it.
Holden shook his head and sighed. "I can't leave Grandpa alone all night. Not with his oxygen levels being unpredictable lately." He traced his finger along my collarbone. "But maybe... maybe you could stay with us sometime? Once I talk to him about it?"
The suggestion caught me off guard. "You'd want that?"
"Of course, I would." He pushed up on one elbow to gaze at me. "Grandpa already likes you, you know. He says you remind him of his favorite student—some quiet kid who turned out to be the best shop teacher Blue Harbor High ever had."
I tried to imagine myself in that house, with its crystal wind chimes and memories of Isabella's art. Sleeping under the same roof as a man who'd shaped so many lives, including my own, in ways I was only beginning to understand.
"You don't have to answer now." Holden kissed the center of my chest. "Just... think about it? The guest room has a view of the lake."