Page 67 of Adored
Poe looked over.
“I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens, I love you. I also want to thank you for being the person who is holding me up. I’m grateful you followed me here.”
Poe sat on the bed and Gamble dropped his arm over his shoulders to offer him someone to lean on.
Emotionally.
And.
Physically.
Poe wasn’t done.
“I appreciate how you’re holding me together,” he stated. “I also love you, Gamble. I’m grateful that for some miracle, you fell in love with me and chose me to be the person by your side.”
Oh, well, Fate put them together. Who was he to question it? Deep down, Gamble knew that this man needed him.
Because he could feel the man’s sadness, Gamble took his hand in his and squeezed it.
“Trust me. Wanting to be with you was the easiest thing to do, Poe. We’ll heal each other.”
Poe was honest.
“I love you, and I wish my brother could have met you. He would have been chuffed to meet you and to talk military with you.”
That touched him.
Gamble felt the same, but he had news for Poe.
“I have met him. You both were twins, and identical, Poe, so I know him, and I like him and you. I imagine he smiled the same way, and laughed like you do. He lives on in you—as do your parents.”
He sighed.
“I thought I was stronger than this. I know the process, Gamble. I just can’t seem to get my bearings.”
Oh, he knew how that felt.
“A wise doctor told me that we don’t have to always be strong. What we have to be is aware of our emotions and that we are allowed to feel. He is the only reason I’m still alive. I trust him.”
He looked over.
“Wise, huh? Not absolutely handsome and dishy?” he asked.
Gamble stared at him trying to figure out what the hell that word meant. To an American, that was something odd to say, but he wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Toto.
Clearly.
Poe laughed.
“It means the same as handsome,” Poe admitted, amused by the language barrier.
“Jesus. Why do you Brits have to make shit up?” he asked, trying to make him laugh. “I got a latte last night, and someoneasked me if I wanted squirty cream in it. What the hell? I had to keep a straight face. Now, dishy? What’s next?”
He was amused.
And laughed.
“I mean, I like squirty cream in the bedroom for some ruckus fun.”
