Page 85 of Without You

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Okay.”

“Do you want to show me where your washer and dryer are so I can stick these clothes in there?”

He takes the dirty shirt out of my hands and picks up the rest of the clothes around us. “How about you have a shower first, and I’ll take care of everything out here. You can use my bathroom or the guest one. There’re towels in both.”

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask. Julian nods. “Can you get my bag out of my truck, so I can grab clean clothes?”

“Of course.”

I gesture to the hallway. “I’m going to jump in, I won’t be long.” Before I walk away, I grab Julian by the back of the neck and press my lips firmly to his. “Thank you for the orgasm.”

He laughs and then kisses me back “You’re more than welcome.”

Just as I’m about to walk off Julian calls out, “Deacon.”

“Yeah?”

“Take your pants and underwear off so I can wash them.”

“If you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask,” I tease.

Dropping my clothes to the floor, I step out of them and give them to Julian. “I owe you.”

“I’ll be sure to think of something really good,” he quips.

Naked and laughing, I’m feeling comfortable about the mood between us. If we can keep this up, he’ll hear me out about coming to Seattle.

Once I reach the bathroom, I make quick work of the shower, soaping my body and brushing my teeth with a lick of toothpaste on my finger.

I drag the towel off the rack and dry my body before wrapping the plush fabric around my waist.

Opening the bathroom door, I’m surprised to see Julian on the other side holding my duffel. “I was just going to drop this in here for you.”

Taking the bag off him, I lean in for a kiss. “Come to Seattle.”

He rolls his eyes playfully and then pinches my nipple. “So I can bring you clean clothes?”

“Ouch.” I rub my chest. “It could work in my favor.”

“It’s my turn to shower,” he tells me. “I won’t be long.”

When he leaves, I continue getting dressed. Not wanting to sit around in stuffy Thanksgiving clothes just yet, I put on my makeshift pajamas—sweats and a t-shirt—and head to the living room.

My eyes gravitate to something sitting in the middle of his coffee table.

I pick up the candy corn packet and realize we both had the same idea this morning.

Sitting down on the couch, I rest my elbows on my knees, and fidget with the rectangular packet while thinking of where to go from here.

I want whatever this is with Julian, and I don’t want to walk away from it unless it’s my only option. But as my fingers fiddle with one of the very few connections I have with my dead brother, I realize some things, no matter how much you want them, aren’t yours to have.

I hear a door click shut and feet softly padding against wooden floors. Looking toward the hallway, I see Julian dressed in fresh jeans and a V-neck sweater, toweling off his wet hair.

He looks at my occupied hands, his stare lasts a few seconds too long, but I don’t call him out on it. His eyes then shift to my clothes and then, finally, to me. “Did I miss the change in plans?” he asks casually. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“Come to Seattle,” I say to him for the third time.

“Deacon,” he says with a sigh.

---