Page 20 of Finding Tane
“Okay. I’m going to brush my teeth, I have a spare toothbrush you can use.”
“Perfect, you’re perfect.”
Tane
I wasn’t usually much of a cuddler. I wasn’t much of a relationship guy, really. I’d dated men, women, a non-binary person, but... dated probably wasn’t even the right word. These were one-night stands, or party hookups that I’d see once every few months and fuck, and then we’d be done until the next industry gig.
I’d never had anyone I wanted to stay overnight with and snuggle.
What was Dillon doing to me?
I slept so well, wrapped in Dillon’s strong farm-boy arms. (I knew he wasn’t a farm boy, not by a long shot, but I can have my fantasies), and his soft bedding, his patchwork quilt clearly made by a loving family member and I was safe. Safe, content and more than anything, like I’d come home.
When I woke in the early morning light, Dillon stirred as well, yawning softly. He hummed when I met his eyes, his own crinkling with pleasure.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Want me to make you breakfast?”
I shook my head. “I’m not a breakfast person, thanks though.”
“Ah well, some other time.” Dillon tensed the moment after he’d said it, as if he’d realised the implication.
“Next time.” I said it firmly, and sealed it with a kiss of promise. I didn’t know for sure what the future held, but more and more I wanted it to hold Dillon. I wanted this. This room, this bed, this man. I wanted to feel safe and at home. I’d never felt that way in L.A. In fact, anywhere in the United States until now, and I hadn’t even realised I was missing that security. Not until I was shown it, with gentle kindness by a sweet and straightforward man.
Dillon sat up slowly, so I sat up too. “You’re missing out, breakfast isn’t just the most important meal of the day, it’s often the most delicious.”
I chuckled, sitting up, swinging my legs off the bed so I could hide a little of the bliss I was feeling. I didn’t want him to see the future I was planning in my head and freak out. I had too many things to sort out — I wondered if my manager would ship my clothes and things from L.A.? Or if he’d take me to court...
We got ready together in companionable silence. Dillon went out of his way to touch me or give me a little kiss on the cheek as we passed. It was sweet, and comfortable, and almost dangerous in how addictive it could become. Could I allow myself to have something like this?
I walked Dillon to the grocery shop, and when we got there he slipped his arm around me and gave me the kind of kiss that made me weak in the knees. I pulled back with a reluctant hum. “You need to open up the place.”
“I’m the owner, I can be a couple of minutes late. How about I walk you back to the motel?”
I giggled, a kid again, and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
He held my hand as we walked. I looked around, unsure if this little town would be welcoming to open displays of affection between two men, but no one gave us a second glance. I was walking on air, high, jubilant. I bit my lip, because I felt something else, too.
Something familiar, but that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
I was inspired. Like I could write a song about this.
How very cliché of me. One fun-filled night with a handsome man and I was back in the writing game?
I shook my head, laughing at myself.
“What is it?” Dillon asked.
I looked at him sideways, the gentle crease of his forehead and knew without a doubt I could love this man. I could spend the rest of my days with him, make a happy life, write new songs... and I wasn’t even afraid?
We reached the edge of town and my little U-shaped motel. It didn’t even look sad in the morning light, it looked like an important milestone on my road to happiness.Cliché, cliché, clichébut whatever, clichés exist for a reason, sometimes they explain something universal, right?
Well, that’s what I told myself.
We were crossing the parking lot when the door in the tiny reception office banged open. I turned to look at the noise just as an all-too-familiar voice shouted my name.
