Page 5 of Protecting his Heart

Now he had two days off—well, one and a half now he’d slept most of his first day away—and he wanted to spend some time with his friends. If he could. He hadn’t checked their plans, so had no idea if they were busy or not.

Rolling to his side, he stared at the curtained window, his mind on his ex-lover. His best friend. His one true love. He was a sappy ass, but it was true. Evan thought he’d be able to live without Owen, which was why he’d retreated to Italy after Owen had broken his heart. It hadn’t been far enough, but it had also been too far. In the end, he couldn’t stand being away from him even if he couldn’t have him as more than a friend. So, he’d sucked it up and returned home with his figurative tail between his legs. But not before he’d had a talking to from an Italian friend.

Living with Owen hadn’t been his plan. He’d wanted to get a place of his own, but when Evan saw the state of Owen’s new purchase, he’d agreed to help him fix it up, staying there while he did. Once it was finished, however, he hadn’t been able to contemplate moving out, and Owen hadn’t asked him, so he’d stayed. A mistake, but one he couldn’t find in him to regret. Yet.

He closed his eyes, remembering that night seven years ago when he and Owen had spent over eight hours learning each other’s bodies. It had come as an enormous surprise that Owen was submissive. Evan didn’t think even Owen had expected that, but when Evan had taken control, throwing orders at him, Owen had obeyed without question. Evan’s blood had fired, and a beast had grown inside him. A beast that needed to be the dominant one in their relationship.

As the images of Owen beneath him flickered through his mind, his morning wood wept, needing attention. Evan was all for edging and delayed orgasms, but not that day. That day, he needed to let it out.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, sliding his palm over the head to collect the precome before tightening his hold and stroking to its base. His hand rose again, rotating across his sensitive frenulum, over the head, and stroking down. He repeated it several times, letting the movie of their one and only night roll, sending his arousal higher. He needed more.

Bracing the back of his hand against the mattress but still keeping it in a loose circle, he canted his hips, sliding his cock through his fist. His free hand flicked his nipples, sending shards of fire towards his groin. He panted into his pillow as he remembered the feeling of Owen clenching around his cock, pushing back against him, biting his forearm in the throes of ecstasy, and Evan increased his speed. The head of his dick rubbed against the bed as well as his hand, and within seconds, his climax washed over him, a wave he could not and did not want to deny. His groan of completion was loud.

He slumped to the bed, his hand relaxing around his cock, even as his shaft valiantly tried to release more at the brief sensation. He was surprised he didn’t have calluses from how much he had used his hand as a substitute for what he wanted.

Rolling to his back again, he sighed. He wanted Owen back, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. Dominic knew nothing of their one night together, so he couldn’t ask him for help, not without breaking the trust between him and Owen. They’d never mentioned keeping it a secret, but as Dominic had never mentioned it, Evan assumed Owen had said nothing.

He rose, stripping the bed and throwing the sheets in the washing basket, and then headed for the shower. After a perfunctory wash and shampoo, he dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and wandered in search of coffee. Owen often made him some, but when it was late in the day and they weren’t sure who was going to be around, each of them tended to leave the coffee pot empty.

Once the coffee scent rose, Evan inhaled and sighed.

“Nothing like coffee when you wake, is there?”

Evan’s heart pounded in a rapid tattoo as his stomach tried to roll out of his body. How long had Owen been home? “Definitely. Nothing like it,” he rasped, trying to cool the burning that would no doubt be visible in his cheeks if he turned away from the pot.

“Did you sleep okay?” Owen stopped beside him, placing his mug on the side next to Evan’s.

Evan tried to read into Owen’s words. Had he heard him as he orgasmed? Had Evan been as loud as he’d seemed? He couldn’t tell, but something inside him wasn’t at all bothered. Not really. Let Owen listen to him. Let him remember what they had. Let him imagine what Evan was doing in his room.

“Yeah. A lot longer than I’d planned, but I feel better for it.” He scratched his neck as the coffee spit out his drink.

“It’s a long set of shifts for you. I’m not surprised you need sleep.”

Evan sipped his coffee despite it being burning hot and closed his eyes as the taste hit him. He blinked and leaned back againstthe counter, curling his hands around the mug. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

“Brett gave me the afternoon off because Prince Freddie was staying at Windsor today. They had enough people to cover.” Owen faced him, the easy lean against the opposite counter not as easy as he tried to make it look.

“What’s wrong?” Evan asked.

Owen hesitated and then shook his head. “Nothing.” He pushed off the counter and left the kitchen, and Evan stared after him.

They would never get past what happened between them. It would always be a chasm they wouldn’t be able to cross to get back to where they had been before. Eventually, he was sure they could narrow the gap, but it would never disappear. He glanced at the floor as he finished his drink. He had no choice but to rebuild the bridges they’d both burnt to the ground. After all, he’d promised his Italian friend he would try.

While he’d been living in Italy, he’d taken jobs as a carer, and one such job was for an elderly gentleman who was nearing the end of his life. Antonio had refused to leave his childhood home when he knew he’d never return to it, so the doctors had agreed to home care. The stubborn man had clung to life for almost a year before succumbing, but in that time, he’d become a close friend to Evan. And Evan had told himeverything. Antonio had made him promise to return to the UK and find a way back to Owen. To find a way for them to forgive, if not forget. Evan could do it. He could forgive Owen for his harsh words and even harsher delivery, but there would always be that ember of doubt in the back of Evan’s mind, and that, more than anything else, had stopped Evan’s forward momentum with figuring out where they were.

He shook his head, bringing himself back from the memories of that sad time. Refusing to take on another carer role afterAntonio had died, he’d instead packed his stuff and headed back to England. Right into Owen’s life again. But where they went from there, he had no idea.

“Ev? Mum’s asking if you want to go for dinner tomorrow night?” Owen shouted from the living room.

Evan put his mug down and leaned against the door frame, ignoring the way his body reacted when his gaze landed on his best friend. “Sure. We don’t have any plans, do we?”

Owen shook his head and brought the phone back to his mouth. “Yeah, we’ll be there. What time?”

As Owen finished the call with his mother, Evan grabbed the mug from Owen’s hand and went back to refill them both. Sally, Owen’s mother, had been his lifesaver when his parents had disowned him and thrown him out at fifteen years old. She’d allowed him to move in with them while he finished school, at which point he found a small apartment and moved out. He loved her dearly and had been fascinated with her nursing career stories, guiding him into his current role as if he’d been born for it.

“She said to be there for five o’clock, if that’s okay with you?” Owen said when he returned to the living room.

He handed Owen the drink and settled in an armchair, tucking his legs beneath him and cradling the cup. “Fine by me. I’ll never say no to Sally’s cooking.”

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