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Tommy in the daylight is that the sun makes his hair glow golden on the ends, and it’s easier to see how blue his eyes are and how smooth his face is.
He’s got the soft floppy hair, the blue eyes and plump lips, and abs that would probably turn me gay if I were ever straight to begin with.
“Don’t lose me,” I say, and he turns his head over his shoulder. “That’s what you told me. I’m just trying not to lose you. Whatever way you want me, I want that too. It can be whatever we want it to be. It can mean whatever we want it to mean, but if you want me at all, in any way, I want you too.”
“Don’t quit. I don’t fuck with quitters.”
I love doing gay shit with Rowan more than I ever liked having straight sex.
“It’s not just about soccer for me. Even when we first started training together, it wasn’t. I think it’s always been about him for me.”
Sweeping my palm along his hip and back, I whisper against the top of his head, “Mine,” and the small hum that leaves Rowan’s throat in response sure doesn’t sound like an objection.
This time, when Tommy puts his mouth to my ear and tells me he loves me, I actually kind of believe him.
Now, when I put my cheek on his shoulder, it’s only Tommy I smell, and it’s only his flesh I feel against mine. I lay my palm in the center of his smooth, bare chest and feel for his heartbeat. “I love you,” he murmurs against my hair before kissing my head. For the first time in my life, it’s easy to tell someone, “I love you too,” because it’s Tommy. And Tommy really is special.
“It’s always darkest before the dawn, right?” he says. “I can feel it now, though. The dawn.”
Time ceases to exist. There are no seconds, only heartbeats. I melt on top of Rowan like I’m made of water, and I count each soft thump from Rowan’s chest like I’m counting sheep at bedtime. As sweaty and sticky as I am, nothing beats this feeling. The euphoria of just being here, with him. “I love you, Tommy,” Rowan says before kissing my heated cheek. I hum, testing out my post-coital voice box. I turn my head and kiss Rowan’s lips. “I love you too.”
“You’re my dream, Rowan,” he murmurs. “It’s always been you, and I will never give up on you. Ever. Not for anything.”
“Sweetheart… Are you kidding? Of course I’ll marry you. You actually got me a ring?” Beaming so bright my head feels hot, I pick the ring out of the velvet lining and pocket the box. “Hell yeah, I got your ass a ring. I’m not some deadbeat.”
“God damn, I love you,” he mutters between impassioned kisses. “I love you too, baby boy.”
If Tommy gets me a ring, I’ll have it engraved as well, and it’ll say what my heart screams whenever I look into Tommy’s eyes. Never Give Up.
