Page 29 of From the Ashes

Before I can tie myself up in knots any further, I pick out plain gray sweats and a faded red tee without any logos on it. They’re just basic things I wear around the house or sometimes working out, so they have no sentimental value. There. Nothing to stress over. I throw them over my shoulder, grab my beer, spin around to leave my bedroom?—

And crash straight into Colt, who’s only wearing a towel slung around his hips.

“Fuck!” we both yelp as I drop my bottle and jump backward. Luckily, I have a thick rug on the tiled floor in here, so at least the glass doesn’t smash. But that now means beer is glugging out all over the shag pile.

“Shit, sorry!” Colt cries, diving to snatch it back up. In the process, the towel slips, and he only just catches it with his other hand, not so successfully covering his dick.

Of course I’ve seen it before all those years ago.

But it goes without saying that this is entirely different circumstance.

It’s like I’ve forgotten how to breathe. He stands there, the towel barely covering his modesty in one hand, a dripping beer bottle in the other. The clothes I picked out for him have fallen off my shoulder onto the floor and might very well have beer on them as well.

I don’t care.

We just stare, eyes locked together. Colt is frightened, crushed. He licks his lips then bites the lower one, his gaze dropping in shame. “Zahir,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

He’s said that to me at least a dozen times now. But in that moment…it’s like I finally hear him. He’s not apologizing for the spilled beer or almost flashing me or not packing swim shorts in the first place. He’s saying the same thing he’s been telling me since he showed back up in this little town of ours.

He’s sorry that I trusted him with my heart, and in return he broke it into a million pieces and abandoned me for fifteen years.

This time, though…I believe him. I can see how leaving devastated him as well. He’s been suffering just as much as I have, only in different ways. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been apart for so long. He was my best friend, and I know him better than I’ve known anyone in my life. He’s hurting and I want to make the pain go away. He’s diminished by remorse, but I want to see him shine again. There’s no one as brilliant as Colton Ross to me.

And he promised that for him, there’s never been anyone else but me.

He’s still mine.

And I want him.

I’m done hiding from the world, too afraid to live for fear of getting burned. Time to stick my hand in the fire and deal with the consequences, come what may.

Before the logical side of my brain can kick in, I throw cation to the wind and myself at Colt, grabbing either side of his face and crashing my mouth against his.

The towel doesn’t last very long after that.

CHAPTER 13

Colt

I probably should have stayedin the bathroom. But I showered as fast as I could, determined not to take up too much of Zahir’s time or crowd him in his own home. After I dried off, he still hadn’t returned with the clothes, so I went looking for him.

Then all hell broke loose.

I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. But at the end of the day, I’m not a saint. I’m a mortal human being and when the only man I’ve ever loved—the man I was convinced I’d never have a hope in hell of getting back together with—launches himself at me and kisses me senseless, all common sense leaves the building.

The shock lasts maybe half a second after his mouth lands firmly on mine. Then I’m kissing him back like the last fifteen years never happened. My tongue remembers his taste like nothing else and my body loves the way his has grown bigger and stronger. Without thinking, I mirror him and grab the sides of his face, kissing him like I’ll never need to breathe again.

Of course oxygen does eventually become an issue, and even though I need it too, my heart drops as he pulls away and gasps for air. It’s only as we stare at each other then, chests heaving, do I realize that my damp towel has fallen to the floor in a crumpledheap. At least I somehow placed the bottle on the dresser, and it actually has most of the beer still inside, although I have no memory of doing that.

So I really am standing there stark naked, my half-hard dick very much making its presence known.

Just as I’m about to expire from every regret I’ve ever had colliding into me all at once, Zahir takes a breath, gaze still locked with mine. In one fluid motion, he grabs the back of his T-shirt and yanks it over his head, flinging it to the ground.

Well, okay, then.

I’m not sure who moves first, but it doesn’t seem to matter. We’re like magnets hurtling together, his lips and hands finding their way back to where they were before, but this time with the added bonus of his glorious warm skin plastered against mine.

I still need more, though.

---