Page 88 of Without You

The couch became our haven because Deacon refused to be together anywhere else in the house, and I hated that part of me was relieved he’d made that decision for us.

The move, whether it was to Seattle or just another place here in Billings, was the right move for me; it was the right move forus. But that didn’t mean any part of it would be easy.

It didn’t matter that my heart was beating to a new sound, because my guilt still sat in a wooden box in my bedroom, and I was running out of ways to defend its existence.

I wasn’t holding on to it as a souvenir, I wasn’t holding on to it to commemorate his memory. I was holding on to it because I didn’t know how to let it go.

I knew and loved Rhett for longer than I knew the people who were my own blood. I didn’t know how to just switch him off. And it’s not because Deacon would expect that of me, it’s because I want him to know what’s between me and him isonlybetweenmeandhim.

We spent the night on the couch at my place and left Montana with the sun rising behind us. With the intention to stay a little over a week, I argued with Deacon that I would drive my own car up. But he was adamant my ‘rusty piece of metal’ wouldn’t make the twelve-hour drive.

Seeing that his opinion on the matter did hold a lot of weight, I grudgingly gave in and agreed to fly back when the time came.

My bank account would feel the hit, but the whole move was going to require me using some of the money I’d been keeping in savings, so I may as well get used to the idea.

“Earth to Julian.” A hand squeezes my thigh, and I realize this mustn’t be the first time he’s tried to get my attention.

“Huh? Sorry. Did you say something?”

“Are you chickening out on me?”

My head snaps up at his question. “No,” I say with certainty. “I want to spend this time with you, please don’t doubt that.”

His insecurities hurt me just as much as they hurt him. The idea that he would think himself to be anything less than the wonderful man he is pains me.

He’s more than he or anybody else gives him credit for, and I’ve made it my mission to make sure he sees the man I see.

“I’ve never left Montana,” I say, sharing my thoughts. “Twenty-seven years old and I haven’t done anything more today than the day I was born.”

“Besides the fact that that is completely false, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Plenty of time to do whatever you want to do.” We stop at a traffic light and Deacon moves his hand to the back of my neck. “I didn’t want you to just come here for me,” he reveals. “I can be a selfish motherfucker, but that’s not what this is. I want you to see what’s out there.” He pulls my head to him, kissing me on the temple. “If you want to spend a week at a hotel and the days exploring by yourself, I can respect that.”

I turn my head to face him and capture his mouth. “Your version of chivalry,or whatever this is, has been duly noted but is also not welcome here,” I tell him. “You’re stuck with me. Don’t try to back out now.”

“I would never.” Someone honks at him from behind and he flips his finger at them in the rearview mirror and takes off driving.

“Why didn’t you ask me what I came up with the other night? When you asked me to close my eyes?” I ask curiously.

He sneaks a peek at me while driving and then takes hold of my hand and brings it to his lips to kiss it. “It was never about me knowing. I just wanted you to be able to see what I see for you.”

Emotion gets stuck in my throat; how did I ever think this man was indifferent and unfeeling? Love pours out of him, like he’s been waiting his whole life to shower someone with it.

My hand finds its way to his thigh, caressing his body through his clothes. “How long till we get to your place?” My voice is low and thick and hoarse, clearly showing my intention.

Words aren’t enough for me right now. They don’t capture the moment; they don’t single out quite the right feelings. I need to touch him and I need him to touch me.

I need him to know that his instinct to know whatIneed, is something I’ve missed in my life. Independence lies to you, tells you you’re doing fine on your own.But alone never felt so lonely until right now. Until I knew what it was like to have a man like Deaconwantto take care of me.

He threads his fingers through mine and brings my hand dangerously close to his groin. “This drive has been long,” he muses. My hand is guided higher. “And hard.”

I want to snicker at his obvious boyish jokes, but the need sizzling inside me is too much for me to think of anything else.

As he moves my hand directly over his hardening cock, I hear him say, “We’re here.”

I reluctantly drag my eyes away from his dick and take in our surroundings.

Entering an underground garage, he turns into one of the first empty parking spots. The sign that says ‘residents only’ confirms this is indeed where he lives.

“Ready?” he asks me, his eyes flicking between me and my hand on his erection.

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