Page 54 of Hush

“Come in. You don’t have to wait outside.” Mike looked amazing. Dark jeans, a light gray long-sleeve shirt. His hair tousled. Something zinged through him, desire so scorching hot he thought his bones would melt.

Mike took a deep breath and faced Tom, squaring his shoulders as he stood on the sidewalk. “I’m not sure if I should.”

“What?”

Exhaling, Mike’s shoulders bowed. “What’s going on? What is this? Were you… were you lying to me? Why didn’t you tell me—” His lips clamped shut.

Shit. “Please, come in. I need to explain myself, I know. Give me the chance to?”

Mike waited, staring at him.

“Mike… please.”

Nodding stiffly, Mike headed up. He held out the bottle of wine and gave Tom a thin smile.

“Let me put this on ice.”

Silently, Mike headed for Tom’s kitchen, Tom trailing behind. Etta Mae hopped off the couch and trundled across the hardwood, her nails clacking as her tail wagged. Mike focused on her, dropping down and ruffling her ears, scratching her neck, as Tom set the bottle of sauvignon blanc in an ice bucket.

How did he fix this? How did he explain himself? He knew, God, he knew last Saturday night that he was wrong to keep this secret from Mike. He let Mike think he was something he wasn’t, and now… He didn’t blame Mike for being upset.

Tom gripped the edge of his kitchen counter and watched Mike play wrestle with Etta Mae. Etta Mae was getting into it, bouncing and making her Basset noises. Half barks, half snorts, and she flopped from sitting on her butt to lying on her back to leaping to all four paws and barking. Tom’s fingers tightened on the granite. He wanted this. He wanted this,exactlythis. He wanted it so, so badly.

“Mike…” His voice trembled. “I’m gay.”

There. He’d said it. Out loud. Tom’s nails dug into the counter, scratching on the gray surface. Panic swelled inside him, waves and waves of shrieks and all his nightmares, his fears suddenly erupting like popping balloons. His old professor’s voice rang in his ears, over and over again.

Mike stared at him, still ruffling Etta Mae’s ears. His face was stone, closed off, but his eyes searched Tom’s. “Have you ever said that before?”

He couldn’t speak. Tom shook his head. “Not like this,” he whispered. “I’ve always known. But—” His throat closed, choking his words.

“Have you ever…” Mike stood and headed for the kitchen. He stopped in front of Tom, though not touching him. But he was close. Close enough that Tom whimpered. “Have you ever allowed yourself tobegay?”

“Once.” Damn it, he wasn’t going to choke up. But, heat was building in his eyes, and his chest went tight. He breathed through clenched teeth. “Once, I wanted to live my life. I wanted to be me. But…”

Mike laid his palm on top of Tom’s shaking hand gripping the edge of the counter until his knuckles went white. “What happened?”

He told him. Everything.

When he finally stopped talking, his throat was hoarse and he’d cried, tears falling down his cheeks like waterfalls. Mike brushed them away as he choked out his story. 1991, and the first year he’d let go of the total reins he’d kept on his life. The chance he’d taken, wanting to live his life, wanting to be himself, wanting to not live in fear. The world back then, the atmosphere, the day-to-day he lived in, the times, the way society portrayed him and all gay men. His professor, torpedoing his life before it had even begun, just after he’d let himself taste the life he truly wanted. Fear, so much crippling fear. Fear that had pushed him back into the closet and hammered the door closed. Fear that kept him living a monk’s life, lonely and celibate.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you. I’veneversaid anything. I’ve never—” He sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheek. “I’m sorry. This is ridiculous. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Mike’s arms wound around his shoulders, and he pulled Tom close, molding him to his body. “It’s okay. I never realized—” Mike sighed, his breath ruffling Tom’s hair. “I had no idea.”

“You’re younger than I am.” Tentatively, Tom touched Mike’s hips. His heart screamed, and fresh tears silently rolled down his cheeks. “You grew up in a different world.”

“Yeah.” Mike’s arms tightened. “Even in the Navy, even before it was allowed, no one cared that I was gay. I had a lot of support.”

“I’m glad you did.” He could only whisper. “Living like I have, I don’t recommend it.”

Mike pulled back slowly, his hands on Tom’s shoulders. He searched Tom’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “Why now? Why are you doing this now?”

He squirmed. “I… fell for a guy,” he breathed. “I fell for this guy, this amazing guy. I think he’s worth it.”

Mike looked like Tom had just kicked his puppy. “Tom…”

“It’s okay, I don’t expect anything. I never have. I know I’m not your type. But you are amazing, Mike. Just this. Just… telling you.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Licked his lips. “Feeling your hands on me. It’s worth it.” His eyes fluttered open.