Page 30 of Bull's Boy

Heat coursed through him, and he bit his lip.

Yeah, he wouldn’t say no to doing that again.

The drive to Bull’s was quicker than his racing heart would have liked, but it wasn’t like he could make the town bigger by force of will. He passed the yarn place on Main Street and felt the same lurch in his chest he always did. Before his nan passed, she’d taught him to crochet and would invite him over to work on projects together. She’d always bought their yarn and supplies, so he’d been shocked the first time he’d gone into the shop—when he could look at the place and not be overwhelmed with grief—at the prices. His budget didn’t allow for “frivolous” things like hobbies.

He asked for supplies for his birthday and Christmas that year, but his family had ignored him, making snide remarks about how crocheting wasn’t something he should like to do as a guy.

Turning onto Bull’s street, he cringed, imagining their reactions when they found out he wasn’t straight. His parents would either call him a liar, tell him he was being selfish somehow, or not care at all. But not in the we-love-our-child-no-matter-what kind of not caring. The kind that made him feel small and insignificant because they made it clear they didn’t careabout him.

Evan would probably be an asshole and say he’d always known Malcolm wasfruity.

That’s what he called queer people, because he was secretly a Boomer stuck in the seventies.

He couldn’t really think about that right now. He’d talked to Dahlia for nearly an hour before Becca had come looking for her when people started showing up for the shower, andshe’d helped him wrap his head around the realization of his orientation. He still felt sort of ridiculous that he hadn’t known before, but he also couldn’t ever remember really looking at men and feeling attracted to them or wanting to date them.

He hadn’t even noticed his growing feelings for Bull untilafterhe’d sucked the man’s cock.

How could he be so oblivious?

Dahlia had stopped him before he could spiral all over again and pointed out that when a person was in survival mode, focusing all their time and energy on staying alive and meeting their most basic needs, it made sense they wouldn’t have the mental or emotional capacity to figure themselves out.

He’d tried not to feel ashamed when she’d said that.Survival mode. That was exactly what he was in—and had been for years—but a little piece of him died that it was so obvious to other people. He knew it wasn’t his fault, that he did the best he could and worked hard, but the shame was still there, eating at his self-esteem.

But that wasn’t what he was focusing on as he slowed and pulled over to park on the curb in front of Bull’s place. His money problems would still be there tomorrow, but whateverthinghad happened between him and Bull might not be. Not after how horrible he’d been, running off like that.

Malcolm didn’t know exactly what he wanted from Bull or where things might lead, but at the very least, he owed him an apology and explanation.

Climbing out of his Jetta, he barely noticed the loud noise the door made when he opened and then closed it, his attention on the back of Bull’s truck. There were quite a few bags and someboxes sitting and waiting for Bull to come and carry inside. At first, Malcolm thought he’d just gotten back from grocery shopping, but as he got closer, walking slowly up the perfectly maintained driveway, he could make out some of the items. One large box was a cat tower. There were three giant buckets of cat litter. And a massive bag of both adult and kitten food.

Bull was a cat person?!

He reached the open tailgate and used a finger to lift the edge of one of the plastic bags so he could peek inside. It was stuffed full of cat treats and toys and canned food.

Lord, how many cats did the man have?

“Hey.”

Malcolm jerked and whirled around, his face flaming at getting caught snooping. Oh, and the whole I-can-now-personally-attest-to-why-they-call-you-Bull thing. “Um, hey.”

Bull had on dark-tinted sunglasses, and Malcolm found he didn’t like not being able to see his eyes. He stood at the top of his porch steps for a moment, like he wasn’t sure whether he should just go back inside or not, then slowly descended and traversed the curved sidewalk that connected the bottom with the driveway. Narrow flower beds sandwiched the path, just as well maintained as the rest of the yard and porch. It was obvious that not only did Bull take pride in his home, but he also had the money to make it look really nice.

He stopped right at the edge of the driveway and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. His T-shirt was faded and well-worn, molding to his thick pecs and firm midsection, straining around his massive biceps. The words across the front were hard to read, but he could just make outClinton 2016.

Why that made his heart flutter, he wasn’t sure, but he was just going to go with it.

Bull cleared his throat. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Right. Because he’d run away after coming in his pants like a teenager.

“I…” Fuck. He should have practiced what he’d actually say. His throat seized up, his fears and insecurities and hopes all fighting for space and blocking out the oxygen he needed to make words. Running a hand through his hair, he dropped his eyes to his feet, unable to look at Bull in all his gigantic glory and make his voice box work. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Okay, good start. Those definitely counted as words, and they made a complete sentence. Go him!

“Right,” Bull said flatly, then sighed. “That’s what I figured. You don’t have to quit. I’ll tell my mom what happened, and she’ll handle your schedule and?—”

Malcolm jerked his head up, eyes wide in panic. “What? No! That’s not what I— No, I meant…” He forced himself to stop and take a deep breath, then moved closer to Bull, shoulders hunched over. “I didn’t mean I shouldn’t have, um, blown you.” God, his face was on fire. He was a grown man—he should be able to talk about the blowjob he’d given Bull without nearly fainting with embarrassment. “I meant, I shouldn’t have just left afterward without saying anything.”

Bull’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips set in a firm line. “It’s okay you didn’t like it. You don’t have to try and make me feel better. Nothing that happened between us will jeopardize your job. I swear it.”

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