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And yet the image of green eyes watching me—seeing me—over the flicker of flame wouldn’t snuff out, no matter how much beer I tried to drown it in. It’d taken less than seven minutes, but everything had changed.
“A giant IQ means I have facility with language and words, but it doesn’t guarantee those words will have heart.” I turned to Miller. “Like your music. That was all heart. When I write like you play, my friend, I’ll call myself a writer.”
“Come with me.” The words sank in and spread to all parts of me. My head, heart, and cock all wanting to obey. My hands fumbled with the knot on the tie and the two lengths of silk fell apart. “Where?” “Somewhere you don’t have to pretend.”
Lust—pure, unfiltered want—ripped through me like a wildfire. But just as potent were the thousands of emotions swirling in my chest. Instead of feeling constricted, I could breathe. Maybe for the first time in months. Years, even. Holden read all of it; a lazy, infuriating smile spreading over his lips. He lingered in that thick moment—torturing me with possibilities—then backed off, breaking the spell.
Our song. Nothing was ours. There was no us. But Miller sang that if you never try, you’ll never know, and the words pierced me like arrows.
His eyes held mine intently, and there was no regret. Only a quiet exhilaration. Some part of him that had been lost was now restored.
“Have you ever been in love, James?” “Yes, sir.” “What’s it like?” “The sweetest agony. A torture from which you never want to escape.”
Suddenly, I was at the front door and knocking before I could talk myself out of it. River answered. He had on jeans and a tight-fitting dark green sweater that was smooth over his broad chest and highlighted every muscle in his arms and shoulders. But it was his smile that automatically came over his face when he saw it was me, that was my undoing. I felt it in every damn molecule of my body.
His masculine essence was mine; I drank it down, knowing I was the first. Reveling that no one had been here before, not the way he’d always wanted.
I sat up while his hips rose and fell with increased desperation and watched him come. His release spurted hot over his stomach and over my fingers, and I claimed it. It was mine. His every pounding heartbeat and hitched breath and agonized groan, all mine. I coaxed him through the orgasm with long, slow strokes until I was on the verge.
“You sure?” he asked hoarsely. “It’s better this way,” I whispered, my eyes falling shut. “Then why does it feel like shit?” “That’s a catch-22. The solution to our dilemma is inherent in the problem itself.” “Which is?” “We both want something we can never have,” I said as sleep dragged me down on vodka fumes. “A normal life.”
“É fácil amar você, meu doce menino. Mas você tem que se deixar ser amado.”
It’s easy to love you, my sweet boy. But you have to let it in.
I didn’t want to be here when Mom and Dad came back either. I didn’t want to be anywhere. The urge came over me again, to run out the door and not stop. No destination, just away.
“Clubs are not my thing. Too loud. I wouldn’t be able to talk to you.” “Oh my God.” Holden pressed his face against my chest. “It’s been months, Whitmore. You’ve seen me naked a hundred times. There is no need to keep saying sweet, River-esque things to woo me. You did it. I’ve been wooed.”
“You once asked me about my heart, Mom. How you wanted it to be beating and alive and full. Now it is. With him. And no matter what happens, I’ve been happy.” I looked to Holden. “I have.”
I can’t make you believe me when I say that I love you, but I do. I think you love me too, and when you come back to me, I’ll be waiting. Love, River
Finally, Holden raised his head, hair tousled, eyes shining. “I’m about to say something extremely emotional and honest. Don’t hold it against me.” “You can say anything to me.” He swallowed hard. “Thank you for loving me when I didn’t.”
