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He walked straight into Denver’s personal space without hesitation, colliding with the solid wall of his chest and burying his nose at the base of his throat. The scent of leather and wintergreen filled his lungs, as warm and familiar as the stroke of a hand, and Lane groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his forehead against the unshaven edge of Denver’s jaw and breathing him in. Just breathing. For what felt like the first time in years, he could breathe again.
He could set fire to the rest of his possession and not even blink. Maybe he should have torched it all, just like he’d done to everything else in his life.
He’d been raised with nothing, so he wanted everything.
No matter the bad blood between them, Denver would always mean safety to Lane. He was comfort. He was home. Whether he wanted to be or not.
He was a grunt, capable of taking tremendous damage and popping back up like a jack-in-the-box. Cannon fodder to smooth the way for better men.
Lane was the comet no one could grab by the tail.
He needed this. He needed blood and chaos. Sometimes it felt like he’d die from needing it, and there were no bulls for him to slam himself against here.
Over the years, Lane had sampled enough men to have a decent handle on what was available out there. He’d rolled slick, cool professionals in San Francisco and shy country boys in Kansas, but not a single one of them could hold a candle to this one humble man from Montana. He was in a class all his own.
It hurt to be so close to him. As much as he hated the distance between them, it was somehow worse to be touched so tenderly.
“You did everything you could to get away from me after I kissed you,” Lane retorted. “You acted like I didn’t exist. If you’d wanted—” “I wanted you to stay,” Denver interrupted harshly. He reached down and grasped Lane by the wrists, removing his touch with a cold precision that chilled him. The sudden space between their bodies left him cold, but it was the frozen void in Denver’s eyes that nearly stopped his heart. “I wanted you to stay,” Denver repeated furiously, “and you didn’t.”
And Denver. Every memory of him was seared like a brand into his heart. Someday, when he finally tangled with the wrong bull, the coroner would cut him open and see the etchings of Denver carved into his very bones.
“I get it,” he interrupted. “I understand better than you think. Staying here is your penance. Staying away is mine.”
“I don’t know why you waited so long to kiss me again. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Like the blueprint of you was stitched inside my skin before I was ever born. I knew it from the first time I saw you. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We missed our chance. You and I? We don’t deserve happiness like that.”
He and his brother had been two very different people, but that hadn’t mattered. They were blood. More than that, they were twins. Born together, one as bright as the shining sun, and one like the dark heart of a wildfire. They were one soul split into two bodies; they’d never been meant to live in this world without the other. Without him, Lane was broken, and he always would be.
My world growing up was so fucking bleak…it’s like I never knew colors existed until I met you.”
“You’ve always been so fucking beautiful, Lane. It nearly stops my heart.”
The truth was, the wrong brother had died that day.
:-(
It wasn't good enough. It wasn't love. It wasn't you.
“Because I’ve never been just another guy to you, Lane. You’ve wanted me since the first day we met. Now you’re going to have me…and I’m going to have you. God, I’m going to have you.”
Denver wasn’t like that, and this wasn’t just fucking. It was a reckoning.
I’d die for eyes like that. The thought streaked across Lane’s mind. If he’d let me.
“You look at me, and it’s like I can’t breathe. Like all this pressure is bearing down on me, squeezing the air right out of my lungs, but I know that if I grab you and get you underneath me, I’ll be able to breathe again.”
“Don’t be a stranger.”
“Your brother was one of us,” his father whispered hoarsely against his temple, “but he wasn’t the best of us. We’re still a family, Lane. We’re yours, and you’re ours, and we’ll be waiting for you whenever you’re ready to come home.”
He smelled of sweat, leather, and mint. He smelled of home.
“You’re worth protecting too, Lane,” he said harshly, eyes glowing like green embers. “You’re more than a body that can take a beating and get back up, and you lost the chance to take damn fool risks when you came back. You’re mine, and I will never sit back and watch you hurt yourself again.”
"I'd be a fool not to love a man who makes me feel like that,” Denver said. Lane's fingers shook as he brushed them through Denver's thick hair. "Say it," he whispered. Denver's eyes gleamed. "I love you."
"Baby, I've told you before, and I'll keep telling you until the day we die." Denver wrapped his arms around him and hauled him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You're worth it."
