Page 112 of Without You

Julian untangles himself from me, and I turn my head to avoid his gaze. Tears run down my face, and I don’t have any more vulnerability to give.

“Deacon,” he calls out.

I don’t look at him.

“Deacon, please.” He’s now a little closer, grabbing my hand. “Deacon, if you’re going to ask me a question, then you have to look at me when I’m answering it.”

Reluctantly, I oblige, and I see Julian looking as heartbroken as I feel. When he’s right next to me he reaches for the zipper on my jacket and I move. “What are you doing?”

“You want to know if you’re enough, right?” he says angrily. “If what your mom said was right?”

Swallowing hard, I meet his gaze. “You have two options. Take off your clothes or I will.”

“Julian, I don—”

He doesn’t let me finish, his hands now roughly pulling at my clothes. I don’t help him. Instead I rebel, being as petulant as possible, giving him a defense mechanism dressed up as attitude.

When it’s only my pants left, and I don’t help him get them off, he glares at me. “Now.”

I raise a challenging eyebrow, and he completely ignores me and begins taking his own clothes off.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Take. Your. Pants. Off.”

Standing up I shuck them off, and then feel a hand slip in mine. It’s a lot softer and gentler than his mood, so I take it.

He leads us to the right side of the bed, pulls back the blankets, and throws off all the pillows.

“Sit on the bed.”

Out of curiosity, I do what I’m told, waiting for some kind of fucking explanation.

When Julian climbs on top of me, naked, and wraps himself around me like a vine, I’m genuinely surprised.

“What are you doing?” I press.

He twists half his body and extends his arm so he can reach the blanket in the middle of the bed. Once he’s got it, he lifts it over his back, and then over us completely, so we’re doing nothing but holding on to one another in the dark.

Like our own little bubble, I return the sentiment and squeeze him to me. He sighs at my touch, and I know neither one of us is here unscathed.

“A few weeks ago, it was your time to talk,” he tells, me referring to our conversation about moving forward. “Now, with no interruptions, and absolutely nothing between us, it’s mine. To say I didn’t love your brother with everything I had would be the biggest lie I’ve ever told.” Uncontrollable tears begin to fall down my face.Do I even want to hear this?

“I was so lost, and so alone. I felt that loneliness in my bones, and one day he just shined his light on me, and I couldn’t stay away even if I’d tried. He was my best friend. He taught me how to laugh, and he gave me the confidence to be myself. And there were times when I really needed that. We started as boys in love, trying to build a life out of naivety and hope. When he got sick plans and dreams for the future gave him hope.” Julian’s breath hitches, and I feel wet tears land on my shoulder. “It was young love, first love, puppy love. It was forged out of friendship, and it lasted as long as it did out of necessity.

“But this, with you…” He pauses catching his breath. “My heart didn’t beat for him the way it does for you. The rush, the ferocity, the desperation to be withyou—I have never felt anything with such strength and conviction, about anybody or anything.”

He flips back the covers, and our eyes adjust to the light. He wraps his arms back around my neck, and lines up his face perfectly with mine. “So, you want to know if you’re enough for me?”

He grips my chin in a tight and commanding hold. “You’re the beat of my heart, the blood in my veins, the strength in my bones. None of me works without you. And if you need me to tell you every fucking day for the rest of our lives, then I will, because you are more than enough. You’reeverything.”

My hold on him tightens, because words don’t work and the only answer he’s going to get is the frantic beat of my heart, responding to the matching rhythm of his.

“He might’ve had a piece of my heart, Deacon, but you own it. It’s yours till the day you say you don’t want it.”

“Never,” I breathe into his neck. “I will never not want you.”

“I’m so, so fucking sorry she said that to you,” he cries. “You are not less than or undeserving of anything, Deacon Sutton. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to feel whole, and I won’t let anyone, not even your mom take this away from us.”

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