Page 54

I promise I’m not running or hiding. Last night was wonderful, and it’s given me so much to think about. I’ll be back after my shift is over, I swear. We’ll sit down and talk about this. There’s so much I want to say.

I’ll be back,

Sloane.

It was morethan Dean could have hoped for, but not quite enough. Sloane had promised he’d be back, which was enough to quell the worst of Dean’s terrors. Yet, he hadn’t said anything more than that.

Did it mean Sloane had enjoyed himself but wanted nothing more? Had it been enough for Sloane not to hate Dean, but he was still backing away? He might still lose his friend, which was the greatest terror Dean possessed.

Dean shook his head, knowing he was making no sense but unable to stop himself. At the root of everything was the terror that he would lose Sloane. Even if the night had been the realization of his greatest fantasies and hopes, Dean wouldgladly give it all away so long as he had Sloane in his life. To lose Sloane as a lover, as a boyfriend, as a potential husband, Dean could live with. Even though he had come so much closer than ever, he could deal with losing the chance at something more.

But to lose Sloane completely.

Dean closed his arms around his middle, shaking his head slowly. If Sloane were going to leave forever, he would have done so without leaving a note. It was too easy to listen to the voice inside him that told him Sloane was just being nice, but that wasn’t fair. Sloane deserved better than that, and Dean knew, in his heart of hearts, Sloane would never do anything just to spare his feelings.

Initially, Sloane had put him off with how blunt and short he was, yet Dean had come to appreciate that part of his friend. Sloane might not have tact, but Dean had always known where Sloane stood. Sure, the man might hide behind a wall of grumpiness and coarse language, but at the end of the day, Dean knew how Sloane truly felt, and he never had to feel that Sloane was lying to him to spare his feelings.

And he wasn’t going to start now.

Easier said than done, but Dean shook his head as the darker thoughts crowded into his brain. Rather than give them attention, Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He wasn’t sure when Sloane was getting off his shift, as it could change daily, but six seemed like a safe time. Dean wanted to be back in time to find Sloane there as per his promise, and since it was fifteen minutes away from that time, he slid off the rock he was sitting on.

“Here we go,” Dean muttered as he made his way back.

Stepping through his door,Dean stopped. A pair of huge but familiar boots sat beside the door. Sloane always made his boots sit so meticulously, even placing the laces on the insides to ensure they weren’t tripped over. The realization that the man was in the house sent Dean’s heart fluttering.

Swallowing hard, Dean closed the door, dropping his keys in the bowl. Not bothering to take his shoes off, he stepped further into his apartment, listening for sounds of life. He stopped at the doorway to the living room, spotting a huge shape on the couch. The blinds of the glass sliding door had been drawn, but Dean could see Sloane’s outline.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he realized Sloane was out cold. For a moment, Dean wondered how long Sloane had been there before remembering how easily Sloane could drop off. It was a skill Dean had learned to master during his deployment, taking sleep where he could, but he wasn’t quite as good at it off the field. Sloane had always joked that he’d learned it long before joining the military, and Basic had honed the skill to a whole new level.

Dean stepped closer, careful not to make any sudden noise and startle Sloane awake. Smiling, he reached down, adjusting the collar of Sloane’s shirt so it wasn’t bound around his neck quite as tightly. Dean had always teased Sloane that he looked so much less grumpy when sleeping, but honestly, Dean never thought Sloane looked all that mean. To him, Sloane was Sloane, and his handsome features, awake or asleep, eased an ache in Dean’s chest every time.

Content to let Sloane rest, Dean carefully ran his fingers over Sloane’s arm before retreating to his room. His nerves tightenedwhen Sloane’s hand closed around his wrist, startling him with the sudden movement. In an instant, his tension evaporated as Sloane’s sleepy face peered up at him, smiling.

“Hey,” Sloane croaked, his fingers stroking Dean’s skin.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Dean whispered.

Sloane shook his head. “I was only catching a bit of sleep while waiting for you.”

“You could have texted me,” Dean said.

Sloane chuckled, releasing Dean’s hand so he could stretch. “I didn’t mind waiting.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to where Sloane’s shirt rode up, showing his flat stomach and the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistline. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself doing it, and there was still that instinctive curl of discomfort at checking his friend out. What was new was the realization that he’d had his hands all over that part of Sloane’s body and elsewhere. Despite years of telling himself to be careful, not to be obvious, and to keep it quiet, Dean let his eyes linger on Sloane a moment longer before looking at his face again.

Sloane raised a brow, smirking. “Yeah?”

Dean ducked his head. “Sorry.”

Sloane chuckled, reaching to take hold of Dean’s wrist again. “Don’t be. I kind of like it.”

Dean looked up. “Yeah?”

Sloane pulled him close until Dean had no choice but to plop down on the small space left on the edge of the couch. Sloane’s body pressed against his back, warm and relaxed from his nap. So close, Dean could smell Sloane’s woodsy cologne, hinting of rich wood and fertile land, with just a dash of something spicy and enticing. He’d always loved that smell, but having smelled it while Sloane thrust deep inside him made the scent so much more appealing.

Sloane smiled, shifting his grip to hold Dean’s hand. “That surprise you?”

“It doesn’t you?” Dean asked incredulously.