“After we eat,” Z informed him as he rummaged through RT’s kitchen, trying to find something to piece together. The man’s refrigerator was barren, his pantry equally so. The only thing Z could find were three TV dinners in the freezer, so he managed to combine those and make a relatively filling meal.
After they ate—both of them sitting on the couch in front of the television—Z knew that the conversation RT had promised was inevitable. That hope he’d been fighting for so long was back. Had been ever since RT had asked him to stay with him, tacking on the word forever just as he was giving in to the pain meds, which had been keeping him hovering on the edge of consciousness.
For that reason, Z had tried not to think too much about what RT had said. There was no guarantee that the conversation they were about to have would end the same as it had earlier.
The television clicked off and Z glanced over to see RT holding the remote.
“Are you ready to listen?” RT asked.
Z leaned back against the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. Turning his head to look at RT, Z smiled. “I am,” he began, “but honestly, I’d prefer we pick this up tomorrow after we’ve both had some sleep.”
It was late, and though RT had been sleeping for some time now, he still needed his rest. He’d been shot and then pinned back together over the course of the last few hours. The last thing he needed to do was have a lengthy conversation that could possibly end badly for both of them.
RT seemed to be considering what Z had said. He finally nodded, but he didn’t get up. Instead, he edged closer to Z, his good arm sliding behind Z’s neck.
“We’ll do this your way,” RT whispered. “As long as you stay with me tonight.”
“I’ll stay here,” Z said, patting the couch beside him but keeping his eyes locked on RT’s. “I can sleep right here.”
“No,” RT said adamantly. “I want you in my bed.”
Z swallowed hard and looked away. His heart ached in his chest, fear of reliving the hell of the last couple of months once RT decided this wasn’t what he wanted. Sometimes Z felt as though he’d been caught in a cyclone that he could never seem to escape, and the longer he was involved, the more battered and bruised he ended up.
Now that he knew RT was safe, recovering nicely from the surgery without any permanent damage from the bullet, he knew he would’ve been smart to put that boundary back between them, to distance himself from the pain.
Was he over RT? No, not by a long shot. But Z knew he couldn’t take much more before he broke completely. He had fallen in love with RT long ago, and spending time with him had only sealed Z’s fate. Having to walk away again wasn’t going to be easy.
RT’s arm moved from behind Z’s neck. “Look at me.”
Z drew in a deep breath and turned his head once again.
RT’s mouth touched his gently, sweetly. And that single touch nearly had Z breaking down. When RT pulled away, Z didn’t know what to expect, but the words that came next certainly hadn’t been it.
“You told me earlier that the only thing you wanted from me was for me to love you.”
Shit. Z did not want to rehash this now.
“Well, the truth is, I do love you, Z,” RT said softly. “And before you get defensive, it’s not the drugs talking.”
Z’s throat worked as emotion made it impossible to speak.
“I won’t push to talk tonight,” RT added. “But I had to say that. I had to tell you.”
Z nodded.
“Now let’s get some sleep.” RT got to his feet, wobbling slightly. “Actually, scratch that. I need a shower.”
Z got to his feet when RT stumbled once more. “I’ll help you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
RYAN MANAGED, WITH Z’S HELP, to fumble through a shower. If it hadn’t been for the pain and the fact he had to keep his arm dry, he wouldn’t have been able to control his body’s response to Z’s nearness. The way Z had been so clinical about everything hadn’t hurt, either.
Now, as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling while Z slept only a few inches away, Ryan found he couldn’t sleep. The additional pain pill he’d taken with dinner was doing its job taking the edge off, but now that the anesthesia had worn off, he was no longer tired. And his brain was working overtime, replaying the events of the day.
Z shifted, rolling onto his side facing Ryan. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Tryin’,” Z mumbled groggily.
“Am I keepin’ you awake?”
“It’s your bed,” Z admitted.
Ryan turned to look at him, making out his profile in the darkened room. “Not comfortable?”
“Too comfortable.”
They stared back at one another for a minute, heads turned toward one another on their respective pillows. Ryan couldn’t believe Z was there with him. He’d thought about this moment for so long, never figuring it would be feasible considering all the hell he’d put Z through, but like always, Z had come through for him.
“I love you,” Ryan admitted again, unable to keep from telling Z. He wished he could hear the words back, but that wasn’t the reason he said them.
Z lifted his head, then leaned closer and pressed his lips to Ryan’s. Ryan raised his good arm, sliding his fingers into Z’s hair, holding him in place so he could kiss him back. A shudder ran through Z, but he didn’t push for more. When the kiss finally broke, Z continued to look down at him.
“I don’t want this to be the drugs talkin’,” Z said, sounding sad.
“It’s not,” Ryan told him. “It’s all me, Z.”
“Why now?”
Ryan sighed as he pulled Z’s head down to his shoulder. He ran his fingers along the smooth skin of Z’s back. “I’ve been an idiot. Selfish and worried about only myself for so long. After…” This conversation had seemed like a good idea a couple of hours ago, but now Ryan was having a hard time with the words.
“After Kevin?” Z inserted.
“Yes.”
“I get it.”
Ryan pressed his lips to Z’s forehead. “Do you?”
“Yes. I understand the pain, the fear of being hurt again.”
“Someone hurt you?” Ryan hadn’t heard about any of Z’s former relationships, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear them now, but he wanted to talk to Z, to find a way to make that connection again.
“Is that so hard to believe?” Z questioned.
“Who?”
For almost a minute, the room was silent, and Ryan figured Z wasn’t going to answer him. “Never mind,” Ryan whispered. “Get some sleep.”
“You,” Z stated.
“Me? Me what?”
“You hurt me.”
Ryan swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat, blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. He hadn’t expected that at all.
“I can’t go through it again, Ryan.”
He had no idea what to say to that, so Ryan simply held Z close to him, gliding his fingers over his back, thanking God for this moment and praying it wasn’t going to be the last. Because, yes, Ryan understood all too well about being hurt, being fearful of the future, not wanting to endure the heartache ever again. What he’d been through in the past still left him leery, but Ryan knew one thing with complete certainty.
What he’d felt before had nothing on what he felt for Z. And this time… This time he might not survive.
It didn’t matter that he’d be the one completely responsible because he’d been stupid enough not to snatch Z up when he’d had the chance.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Three days later – Thursday night
“YOU’VE REALLY GOT TO HEAD back?” Z asked Jensyn as he walked his sister out of the nursing home. A cab was waiting at the front doors, and the sight of it had Z’s heart hurting. He hated that his sister had to go back to California, but he understood.
“It was good to be back. And it won’t be long now.” Jensyn turned to face him.
“So you’re still plannin’ to move back when you graduate?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she questioned with a smile.
“Oh, I don’t know. I thought maybe Cali was growin’ on you.”
“It’s not, I promise. Yes, I like it there, but home has always been where my family is.”
Z pulled his sister in for another hug as he peered over at the cab. When she pulled back, she was still smiling.
“Tell Dad I love him every day. And let him know I’ll be back as soon as I can.”