Page 78 of Full Split
“No.”
I blink at him.
“Weston doesn’t have the right to judge you for your dating history. It is and always has been your business. I don’t think he believes those things he said, he never ever talked that way before. Still, it’s not okay for him to try to shame either of us because he’s upset.”
“I don’t know what to do to fix this. I’ll never forgive myself if I break what the two of you have.”
“That’s not on you, Niles. That’s on me. And he’ll come around.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
He swallows and doesn’t look so sure. “Then we’ll figure it out. All we can do is try and hope for the best.”
I stare at him. At the lines around his eyes. At the weight he’s carrying that matches my own. And then, quietly, I whisper, “You know I love you, right?”
His expression softens. “I know.”
“And I’d do anything to make you happy.”
“Niles…”
“I mean it.”
“I love you too.”
There’s silence.
Then I reach up and pull him into the tub, clothes and all.
He falls on top of me with a splash, gasping, sputtering.
“Niles, what are you?—”
I kiss him.
Because I don’t know how to hold myself together anymore. And right now, I need to feel like I haven’t lost him too.
Either he needs it too, or he can’t resist the overwhelming pull between us. A kiss will melt me every time, and he’s the same.
He forgets to be frustrated with my antics and does just that. He melts into it, into my body, into my soul.
Water sloshes over the side as he picks me up and sets me on the back edge of the tub, on the small ledge that holds bath supplies. I place one foot on each side of the tub, opening for him. Every surface of the bathroom is clouded with steam, the mist in the room making it feel like this is a dream. Like maybe I really did drown in the bathtub, but I was good enough to get into heaven (take that, Republicans) and this is my eternal reward.
Wyatt’s eyes lock on mine as he leans forward and takes my cock into his mouth. He licks, sucks, and fucks me with his tongue like he knows the cheat code to unlock all my secrets.
My cries echo off the marble and stone.
No matter what, this man is mine. Forever and ever. I’ll fight to the death to keep him and protect him, because he’s perfect.
Perfect and mine.
I wake up tired.
Not the kind of tired a good night’s sleep could fix. It’s the kind of tired that sits deep inside your bones, heavy and hollowall at once. Like something’s been scraped out of you. Like something’s missing.
It’s still early. The alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Wyatt is still sleeping soundly, but I can’t get back to sleep.
I lie there in the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time, letting the silence press down. And for once, it doesn’t suffocate me.
