Page 92 of Three for a Girl

Chad woke to an empty bed. The scent of Romeo lingered in the air, and his clothes were scattered on the floor around him, but it wasn’t enough. He had to make sure Romeo was there, that his messed-up mind hadn’t conjured up the fantasy.

Chad slipped on a loose t-shirt and sweatpants and padded to the door. As soon as he flung it open, he recoiled at the light. The curtains in the hall were all drawn letting in the brightness of the sun. The sun wasn’t creeping up over the horizon, it was high in the sky, and Chad frowned, scratching his head.

Coffee wafted up the stairs, and Chad followed the scent with his nose in the air. His stomach gurgled, but the unease wasn’t from hunger, he had to be sure Romeo was there.

Relief hit him first before a wave of nerves over the night before. The promise that hadn’t been verbal, but displayed through their kisses, and clutches.

Romeo stood in the kitchen in only his boxers. He sipped a coffee and stared out the window, watching the birds yet again. By the movement of his eyes, and the ravenous noise outside, Chad suspected there were lots of them.

“You haven’t been feeding them?” Romeo asked, startling him.

“They don’t need to be fed, they can find their own.”

“They’ve got familiar with bird seed. A taste for it.”

“Well, you’re back now. You can feed them again.”

Romeo laughed softly. “So I can… I’ll fix you a coffee, sit.”

He gestured to the table. Chad’s chair was still tipped over on the floor. He picked it up, and perched on the edge, watching Romeo. He couldn’t stop staring at his arms, his bulging arms, and the vein that ran from his elbow to bicep. His arms, his body, his face, all fed the fire of arousal, but when Chad looked at his hands, his lust ground to a halt. The hands that pleasured and cared for him were the ones that almost killed him, theyweregoing to kill again.

“What time is it?”

“2:00.”

Chad breathed out a long, steady breath. “I’ve been out of it for twelve hours?”

“You look peaceful when you sleep,” He flashed a look at Chad, and he ducked at the attention. “Now you look like you’re shouldering the weight of the world.”

Chad slumped in his chair and when Romeo slid a coffee his way across the table, he sighed hard enough that the coffee rippled, spilling over the sides. Romeo had used the magpie cup for him and filled it with a coffee especially made for Chad. He used honey instead of sugar, and sprinkled cinnamon onto the top.

Romeo sat down on the opposite chair, cupping his cup in both hands. They looked so innocent like that, his fingers lacing together around the china. That fragile cup looked safe, but if he clutched it like he had Chad’s throat, the cup would’ve exploded.

“We need to talk.” Romeo said.

“About what?”

Chad knew what, but had to at least try to break the tension.

Romeo snorted, and lowered his head, trying to fall into Chad’s eyeline, but he was too transfixed by his murky coffee. He preferred drowning in the brown than being seduced by Romeo’s green eyes.

“Evident, seven letters.” Romeo whispered.

“Obvious. I know it is … it’s hard to talk about.”

“Was it hard to think about, too?”

Chad nodded.

The thoughts had been there, but cloaked, hidden, stuck in thick darkness he tried not to see through, but the veil was gone. Romeo had peeled it away and there was no going back.

“It must be a relief though, to finally unburden yourself of that thought.”

“Yes and no.”

“Why no?”

He swallowed. “What comes next scares me.”

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