Page 174 of Hush

Mike heaved himself up.

Tom stood in the doorway, swaying, as if he was going to fall into Mike’s place. His eyes were wide, blazing, burning, staring across Mike’s place and into Mike, staring like Mike was the sun, was a priceless jewel, a treasure he’d hunted for his whole life. His mouth was open, lips trying to form words.

Mike hurled himself unsteadily over the back of the couch. He ran to Tom, sizing him up, his eyes traveling over Tom, his arm in a cast, his shoulder in a giant sling. He reached for him, wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist, cradling him gently.

Tom melted into his hold. “Mike…”

“Oh my God… Oh my God…” Closing his eyes, Mike pressed his cheek to Tom’s hair, gasping as his heart finally shattered, burst apart in the best possible way. He tried to keep his sobs in, but couldn’t. He gasped again, shaking, and pulled Tom close, pressing their bodies together.

Tom clung right back, burying his face in Mike’s neck. “I did it,” he breathed. “I did it. I came out.”

Mike pulled back. “What?”

“I came out to the president. I told him I was gay. That I was seeing you.”

Mike’s jaw dropped.

“He said he wants to have us over for dinner.” Tom laughed, breathless, nearly hysterical. “Mike…”

Beaming, Mike wrapped his arms around Tom again, laughing with him, the tears on his cheeks now ones of joy. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Kris slipped out as Tom and Mike started the “I love you more” game, breathing promises of everlasting love in between kisses and stroking hands.

He smiled. He’d been like that once.

At the curb, he spotted a dark SUV and a familiar man behind the wheel, tapping at his phone.

“Marshal Winters.” Kris leaned in the open passenger window, smirking. “I haven’t seen you since the Ali Mohamed thing.”

Winters arched a single eyebrow toward him. “What Ali Mohamed thing?”

Kris winked. “Exactly.” He opened the door and slid in. Winters kept staring at him. “Well? Where to?”

Much later, Tom lay propped on pillows in Mike’s bed, wrapped up in Mike’s arms. They were both in no shape to make love, but the comfort, the physical closeness, was a drug they couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to resist.

Tom cupped Mike’s cheek. Traced his cheekbones with his fingers, the line of his jaw. The curve of his lips. He wanted everything with Mike. Mike was his fairy tale, and they’d worked through the dark part, the danger. They were out of the woods now. His fairy tale would have a happy ending. “Move in with me and Etta Mae? Stay with us, forever?”

Mike beamed. He nodded, and cradled Tom’s cheek in return. Bit his lip. He gazed down into Tom’s eyes, love pouring into Tom like a waterfall. “Marry me?” he breathed. “Not next week, or next month. Not even next year, if you don’t want. But someday? Marry me?”

Smiling, Tom leaned in for a kiss, holding Mike’s gaze. A whisper away from Mike’s lips, he breathed, “Yes.Yes, Mike.Yes.”