Page 66 of Without You

“Haha, asshole,” I say with a chuckle. “Listen, I just wanted to call quickly, and see if that offer you made before I left still stands?”

“You’re gonna stay?” he asks, the surprise evident in his voice.

“I’m definitely thinking about it.”

“Deac, man,” he says with genuine enthusiasm. “That’s great news.”

“I know anything can change, but it can’t hurt to try, right?”

The words hold more significance in this moment than Wade could ever know, and I feel like that simple resolution lightens the weariness that’s been sitting on my shoulders since Julian and I parted ways.

With the way my days are unfolding lately, there’s no way to process what the depth oftryingreally means. It’s not just an arbitrary request, becausetryingto work out my feelings for my dead brother’s boyfriend, is more than just a conversation; it’s life changing.

But it also feels unavoidable.

Now that I’ve crossed a line that I didn’t even know existed for us, it feels hopeless to even try and go back.

After Julian left, I casually slipped back into the living room with my family, acting like I didn’t just blow my load, rubbing my dick all over another man. Every time I think about him—my hands on him, his mouth on mine, I anticipate a freak out. But the only thing I’m freaking out about is that the freak out never comes.

I am a straight man. I always have been. There isn’t a time in my life where I can even recall giving another man a second glance—my attraction to Julian makes absolutely no sense. How do you know someone for more than half of your life and feel nothing, only to look at them one day, and wonder how you got by without ever noticing them before?

“So, you’re sure you can get it all covered?” I ask Wade again.

“Of course,” he assures me. “We’ll be fine. I’ll even send you daily updates if it makes you feel better.”

I chuckle, because he knows me well. Daily updates would make me feel better. I don’t like spending time away from the shop, unless it’s an absolute necessity.

And while this isn’t even remotely close to what I would classify as urgent, it feels pretty damn important.

“I look forward to them,” I remark. “You know if I don’t hear from you in a few days I’ll be blowing up your cell, anyway.”

“Looking forward to it. Now get off the phone and enjoy your time with your family.”

“All right, man. I’ll speak to you soon.”

The end of the conversation comes just as I park in front of Julian’s place. Pressing the end button on my steering wheel, I switch off the ignition and wonder if I should’ve called before coming over.

We’ve both had the same cell number for as long as I can remember, an exchange made on the off chance of a family emergency that required us to contact one another. Thankfully that moment never came, but it also means I’ve never needed to call or text him, and this makes me more reluctant to start doing it now.

Jittery, I head to his front door, and nervously rap my knuckles on the solid wood. Before I’ve even pulled my hand back, the door swings open.

A smug smile spreads across my face. “Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”

He grins back, and I’m stunned by the way my body reacts to his relaxed mood. He looks comfortable now in lounge pants that sit low on his hips and a well-fitted t-shirt. “I thought you were my food.”

Clicking my tongue, I lower my eyes and hide my widening smile. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tease and suggestively say that I wouldn’t mind beinghisfood, but I hold back. If he was a woman, we’d already be onto our fifth or sixth exchange of sexual innuendos, the comfort of my sexuality usually encouraging. But with Julian, I tread carefully, because I’m out of my element on every single level.

Instead, I raise my hand holding the six-pack of beer. “I brought drinks.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He reaches for the bottles, but I jerk my arm away. “Depends, is there enough food for me? Because if there isn’t? I’ll keep these and you can eat by yourself.”

He offers me a bemused smile. “There’s enough food.”

“Then I guess I can put these in the fridgethen?”

Stepping out of the doorway, Julian gestures for me to come in. Passing him, I amble toward the kitchen. Making myself at home, I open the fridge and place the bottles on the spare space on the top shelf.

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