Page 58 of Hush
Eventually, breathlessly, Mike pulled back, a single millimeter. His hot breath ghosted Tom’s kiss-swollen lips. “I should go.”
“You don’t have to.”
Mike grinned. “If I don’t, I won’t behave.”
You don’t have to behave. I don’t want you to behave. But, a part of Tom’s mind knew he couldn’t just rush into this. Couldn’t take Mike to bed, not with the darksomethinghanging in the room. There was something there, something they hadn’t spoken about yet. Mike had been strangely guarded, unusually reticent since Tom’s confession. Even though they’d kissed, there was still a pull, a drag of fear, that made Tom hesitant.
He stood slowly, untangling himself from Mike. He was instantly lonely, wanting to crawl back into Mike’s arms. But, Tom smiled. Put on a strong front. He had enough practice with that. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”
Mike smiled. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
They walked to the front door together, Mike reaching for his hand for the short walk. “I’ll pick you up for brunch?”
“Sounds great.”
“We’ll go somewhere with a patio. We can bring Etta Mae.”
Tom’s heart ached, just ached, for this man. His smile grew, widening until his cheeks hurt.
At the front door, Mike kissed him again, a long, soft kiss, his face cradled in Mike’s palms. His knees went weak, turned to jelly, and he nearly sagged against Mike. But, he stayed strong, even when Mike kissed his nose and grinned. “See you tomorrow.”
Tom couldn’t speak, not after that, so he just kept smiling like a loon and watched Mike drop down his steps, turn up his street. He waited, and then waved when Mike turned and gave him one last look, one last grin.
After he shut the door, he leaned back against the warm wood, sinking to the floor with a sigh. Etta Mae, woken by the closing door, trotted into the hallway and then jogged to him, clambering into his lap as she licked his face. “Etta Mae, it’s fine. I’m okay.” She checked him anyway, sniffing him everywhere, licking his face, his chin, his ears. Tom scratched her ears, kissed her head. “What do you think about Mike? Do you like him?”
Her tail thumped on the hardwood and she collapsed in his lap, half sitting on his chest.
“I really like him. I like him too much.” He ruffled her ears, pulled her skin forward, making her face squishy with wrinkles. She tolerated it, licking his face in retaliation. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt, Etta Mae.”
His good mood fled, a sudden weight that had nothing to do with Etta Mae crushing his chest. Tonight had been amazing, and he was going to see Mike again tomorrow morning. Mike knew his secret, and knew what had led him down this path. He’d never, ever, been more exposed. Been more known. Mike knew everything now, and he’d still kissed Tom. Still wanted to see him again.
So why did he feel like he was about to lose everything?
Chapter 13
Brunch was perfect.
Mike picked him up promptly at eleven AM, and they walked to Georgetown, Etta Mae trotting in front at the end of her leash. She napped beneath the patio table as he and Mike drank mimosas and ate French toast. In public, Mike didn’t reach for him or hold his hand.
He missed Mike’s touch.
Mike was livelier than he was the night before, smiling often, telling Tom stories about Kris, about their volleyball league, about Aaron, Carlos, Billy, and Jon. The other guys were investment bankers and lobbyists. They’d all met through volleyball or volunteering, and then saw each other out at the bars. They gravitated together, friends first, wingmen and supporters and now brothers.
Mike’s life was fuller than Tom’s. He had friends, hobbies, things he did outside his house. Tom had a well-worn track from his house to Home Depot, and a circuit he walked with Etta Mae. Befriending Mike was his first risk in a long time.
But Mike asked about his house, and he launched into story after story of his renovations. The kitchen had been a nineties throwback, flower wallpaper and oak cabinets, and he’d changed everything. Laid new scraped hardwood throughout, ripped out the cabinets and painted them white. Installed granite. Painted in shades of gray with pastel accents, and put up crown molding. Redid the bathrooms and the closets. He’d loved doing the closets, installing tiers and shelves and pullout drawers and baskets. God, he was a nerd.
Smiling, Mike hung on every word he said,oohedandaahedat the right times, and shared in his commiserations at his stumbles and foibles.
And Tom fell that much more for him.
“I’m redoing my kitchen right now, too.” Their plates were gone, and they were just finishing up their mimosas, the bottle of champagne and a carafe of orange juice between them.
“Oh? What are you planning?”
“I don’t really know yet. I tore it all out and then…” Mike shrugged. “I don’t know what I want to put in.”
