Page 76 of For Your Heart
Seeing them kiss and grope each other was enthralling. Seeing Declan kiss Sage was fucking hot. Kissing Zarek was exciting.
And hands were everywhere. Goddamn it was so hot.
It’s been three weeks since that first night and we’ve repeated it no less than half a dozen times. When we don’t get enough sleep on those nights, it’s not because Simon’s missing. Or notjustbecause Simon’s missing.
It’s a little frustrating that there’s still the sting of Simon’s absence. Even in those moments that I’m not sure he can be a part of. And yet, everything inside of me isn’t complete without him.
“A different kind of maddening.”
Very much. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to expand this further. Because with Simon comes Stommer. I don’t have any desire to have him in our bed. If I could just get Simon, though. Yeah. Then we’d be fucking perfect. Everything would be exactly perfect. To have all the men I love in one spot.
I look up as our front door opens and the man we’ve been musing about steps inside. He smiles and my heart leaps. There’s also an echo of pain because I recall all too well what life is like without Simon. I remember him walking through that door looking miserable. Tense. Defensive. I remember when he’d walk in and not sit with us.
Thankfully, as he kicks off his shoes and locks the door behind him, he climbs into my lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. He rests his face against my neck and sighs. “Where’s Declan? I thought he was on his way.”
“He was called in for a meeting with the football team,” I answer. “Trust me, he’s not at all happy about being late.”
He smiles and I hug him tightly. It’s Friday night. Our night with Simon. It’s a strange custody battle that I sometimes want to laugh about. I might if I didn’t still have so much resentment towards Stommer.
“I missed you,” he says quietly. My chest pangs at the words. I know he doesn’t just mean over the last couple days, since he was last home. He means the months we spent apart.
“I missed you too. Simon, I’m sorry. I—”
He shakes his head and sighs again. “Don’t apologize again. I know you’re sorry. I am too. Maybe if I—”
“No,” I say, pushing him up so I can look at him. “Don’t you ever apologize for any of it. You told us over and over and we refused to listen to you. This is our fault.”
“Fucking Stommer’s fault!”
Simon huffs a breath as he stares at my face. His fingers come up and he traces every line. Every curve. As if he’s memorizing what I look like. How I feel. There’s a strange feeling of finite ending in it that makes it hard to swallow.
“Okay, I agree that it’s like 95% your fault,” he says, a smile playing on his lips. “But if I wouldn’t have lied to you about so many things, maybe it all wouldn’t have happened.”
“You don’t have to tell us whatever you don’t want to,” I say, though it’s a struggle to say the words. Nothing hurts more than knowing he didn’t feel comfortable talking to us about aspects of his life. Of his personality. His sexuality. Of things that bothered him.
“That’s the part you still never hear,” he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. “Idowant to tell you everything. But… I’m not comfortable talking about it.”
“With us.”
I try to ignore Declan’s words, instead keeping my gaze locked on Simon’s. I’m not sure I’m able to ask the next question and keep my voice neutral. It’s something I need to ask, but I don’t want to take a chance on fucking shit up with Simon again.
“Don’t fuck this up. Please, Damon.”
Taking a breath, I ask, “Why do you feel comfortable talking to Stommer about it and not us?”
He gives me a bemused smile. “You’re still jealous.”
I roll my eyes and nod. “Yeah. I am. But I’m not letting that dictate my behavior anymore.”
“Thank fuck for that,” he says, smirking. His smile falls. “Okay, it’s not what you think, you know. It’s not that I would rather talk to him about it than you. It’s that I don’t even know it’s coming until it’s already out there and I’m freaking out until he talks me down.”
I nod. He kind of talks in riddles because he doesn’t want to tell us things. I’m not sure what he’s saying. What he’s getting at.
Simon leans his forehead against mine. “Okay,” he murmurs and brushes his lips against mine. “Want to know something?”
“Everything,” I say, hugging him close again.
“I need you to promise me something first.”
