“Jesus,” Jeremy whispered as his orgasm passed. He rested his forehead against Charlie’s hair, then shifted the weight of his body to the side as he gently withdrew his cock. He got off the bed just long enough to dispose of the condom in the trash and to grab a folded towel from the dresser. “Roll over,” he said as he climbed back into bed.
Charlie couldn’t stop looking at Jeremy’s face as the other man busied himself with cleaning Charlie’s stomach and the bedding, because he wore an expression that was so relaxed, so satisfied that Charlie could barely believe he’d been the one to put it there. It made Jeremy beautiful, really, and it made Charlie’s heart feel too big for his chest.
Finally, Jeremy stretched out beside Charlie and pulled him into his arms. Charlie’s face came to rest on Jeremy’s shoulder, the front of his body pressed fully against the side of Jer’s. The moment was filled with the sweetest affection. Jeremy pulled Charlie’s arm across his chest and then stroked lazily at his skin. He petted his fingers through Charlie’s hair, making Charlie sleepy against his will. And he pressed kisses against Charlie’s forehead over and over and over again.
“Stay here with me tonight?” Jeremy asked.
Twin reactions coursed through Charlie. Soul--deep satisfaction that Jeremy wanted him to stay. And anxiety about what would happen if someone saw them come out together in the morning. Could Charlie handle being outed already? Would anyone care? Would it cause the problems he feared it might?
No Fear.
The problem was, he was fearful. He didn’t want to be. He hated it, in fact. But maybe he could fake it. The least he could do was try.
Charlie nodded and pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s throat. “I’ll stay.” The words set off a fluttering sensation in Charlie’s chest.
“Good,” Jeremy said. “Because I don’t want to let you go.”
Chapter 10
CHARLIE COULDN’T SLEEP.
Every time Jeremy’s warmth lured him into unconsciousness, he jolted back awake, his eyes going right to the alarm clock next to the bed, his brain caught in a frustrating state of alert caused by Charlie’s worry about what would happen in the morning.
He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to miss even a single moment with Jeremy. He didn’t want to give up this amazing closeness, something he’d never had before. So he stayed despite his exhaustion, despite his inability to relax, despite the adrenaline his stupid brain kept pumping through his system.
When the clock flipped over to 6:00 A.M., Charlie eased out of bed. He searched in the darkness for his clothes, able to tell the two pair of jeans strewn across the floor apart because Jeremy’s had a cell phone in the pocket. Using the light from the cell to locate his shirt and shoes, he hastily put his clothes back on. He nearly held his breath in an effort to be quiet, and then he tiptoed barefoot across the room, slowly twisted the doorknob, and opened the door just enough to squeeze out.
Charlie nearly walked right into Nick and Becca.
“Shit,” he hissed, so startled that he dropped his shoes and blood pounded behind his ears.
“Sorry,” Becca said with a laugh.
Eyebrow arched, Nick gave him an appraising look.
Heat roared up Charlie’s neck, and he bent to retrieve his sneakers. He was so, so busted.
“So, uh, you’re up early,” he whispered to the -couple. His gaze skated to the door to Jeremy’s room, still halfway open.
Nick’s eyes narrowed, but a hint of a smile played around his mouth. “Did you . . . spend the night with Jeremy?”
Becca’s eyes went wide and a slow smile climbed up her face.
The walls closed in on Charlie. His chest went tight and the air became suddenly too thin. Hastily, he leaned to grasp the doorknob and pulled the door closed. “Of course I didn’t spend the night with Jeremy.”
Crossing his arms, Nick smirked. “Then what were you doing?”
Charlie’s thoughts whirled, his gut burning with guilt for lying to his sister and the man who’d saved his life. “I, uh, was going to get a clean shirt from him. I thought he’d be up,” he finally managed.
“And you needed your shoes for that?” Nick asked.
Totally flustered now, Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know. Why does it matter?”
Nick held up his hands as if surrendering. “It doesn’t. No worries. I just thought maybe you two . . .” He shrugged. “ . . . were together.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Charlie felt totally cornered. Not only was he unsure how ready he was for others to know, he and Jeremy had never even talked about whether to go public in the first place. What if Jeremy didn’t want anyone to know?
“No,” Charlie blurted, his stomach burning. “We’re not together.”
“Oh. You’re not?” Becca asked, her tone full of disappointment.
But Charlie couldn’t think about that, couldn’t analyze what it meant, not when he was struggling to breathe. “No. For the last time, we’re not together. Gotta go shower,” he said. He rushed down the hall to the bathroom and shut himself inside.
He didn’t even turn on the light. All he could do was lean against the back of the door, his shoes still clutched to his chest. He wrote strings of code in his mind’s eye until he could breathe again.