Page 50 of The Hang Up

Unlike Sean, I wasn’t one to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Past Sean, anyway. Current Sean had kept a job and maintained his relationship with Ben. And, most impressively, he’d continued to make efforts to include Joshua in his life.

And that was it. I didn’t want to hide anymore. I was tired of lying to everyone around me. But I couldn’t expect Joshua to come out. Because that was a lot of coming out. Not only as bi but dating a man twenty-three years younger and his son’s best friend. I couldn’t expect him to throw away all the progress he’d made with Sean. And knowing how important this was to my best friend, I didn’t want him to. So the underlying feeling of being torn between my best friend, whom I loved like a brother, and this man, whom I also loved, continued. The truth was, I could actually lose them both.

My life felt like a ticking time bomb, counting down to when I would have to give Joshua up. During those times, I smothered him with affection. I needed him to know how much he meant to me.

I started staying over at Joshua’s after work. Sean knew I was seeing someone, so he didn’t question it. I would let myself in, exhausted and smelling like onions and meat. I was specializing in pastries, but I had to go through each station for my capstone.

I fumbled in the dark, not wanting to wake Joshua, as I showered and slipped into bed beside him. His scent wrapped around me as I snuggled against his warm body. I felt like I was home. And for now, I let myself believe it.

“Sweetheart?” He turned on his back and reached for me.

“Go back to sleep,” I said, snuggling in and resting my head on his furry chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him close, desperate to hold on to this feeling. This man.

He kissed my forehead and then tipped my face up and wiped away my tears. What was wrong with me?

“Hard day at work?”

“Something like that.”

And before he could ask me any more questions, I kissed him. It wasn’t sweet or nice. It was desperate and needy. He accepted all of it and then pulled back.

“Brock, sweetheart, talk to me.”

“Want you,” I said, peppering kisses on his chest.

He threaded his fingers through my hair, and I thought,Finally. He kissed me, but it lacked the depth I needed. The mind-numbing passion I was after. “What is it?” he asked, his breath whispering against my lips. When I shook my head, he rested his forehead against mine. “I’ve pretended nothing was wrong my whole life. In every relationship. I—” His voice broke. “Not with you.”

“I just wish everything could stop. That we could have this. Keep this. Without reality intruding. And it’s not possible. I have to make promo ads for the restaurant. Sid you know marketing was something we have to learn in school? I just want to cook. Bake.”

“Marketing is one of those evils that no one talks about.”

I laughed. He wasn’t wrong. “I was mashing together two pictures. One was perfect, but there was a dog in the background. A dog in a kitchen. Seriously?” I paused, wanting to get this right.

Joshua rested his hand on the back of my neck, gently squeezing. Grounding me. “Why are we talking about marketing? And dogs?”

“They have this tool. It takes out the background you don’t want and puts in the one you do.” I leaned back so I could see his eyes. “Being with you feels perfect. I’ve never felt so at home with someone before. You’re my home, Joshua. My safe place. I have no doubts—God, I’m probably freaking you out.”

“Sweetheart, do I look freaked out?” He pulled me closer and rubbed my back. I hadn’t noticed the pain I’d been carrying around until then. But his eyes never left mine. They were full of me—how he felt about me—and I almost started crying all over again.

“We’re stuck with this background. We can’t change it. I just want to hold on to you for as long as I can.”

“I wish—”

I covered his mouth with my fingers. “I want you. Just you.” I straddled his body. “Can we forget about all that other stuff? At least for tonight?”

“Whatever you want.” Joshua kissed me, slow and deep, as if he was savoring the taste of me. Holding on to every touch, every sigh, every moment. His embrace was achingly sweet and reached places no one else could touch. Made promises no one could keep. I tried to show him with my body what I couldn’t say with words. I was his. No matter what happened. I would always be his.

As he slid into me, joining us as one, I clasped his hands, needing to unify us in every way. I gasped into his mouth as I reached the end, trying to hold on as long as possible. But then it was over, and I collapsed on top of him, for once not caring about the mess.

He chuckled in my ear. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

“You killed me. I’ll just lie here and die in the drying mess we made together—”

A smack on my ass jolted me out of my soliloquy. “Have you always been this dramatic?”

I giggled. “You never noticed?”

“You used to make this adorable squeaking sound when I was around, and then you’d run off or,” he said, smacking my ass again, “you’d hide under a Spiderman blanket.”

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