Page 9

Chapter 9

Riley

I may have overestimated how ready I actually was for this.

Driving down the familiar street again, past the familiar houses of people I’d grown up with, I wasn’t so sure how ready I was to leave it all behind. It had been hard when I’d left for boot camp, and when I’d visited just before heading to Okinawa, knowing I wouldn’t be back for a while.

There was a possibility this would be the last time. I held on to some stupidly optimistic hope that it wasn’t, but… it could be. They could see the light and decide they didn’t want to lose their son. Or they could stick to their guns, and I’d really be done with them.

Either way, I was putting my foot down. Today. Now. If it went badly—and it most likely would—then I wasn’t just going no-contact with my parents. I’d probably end up low- or no-contact with my brother, too. He didn’t like taking sides, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d pick me over our parents.

The absolute best-case scenario was that this would jostle my parents into reality, and they’d realize that holding on to their homophobia wasn’t worth losing their son. Then, finally, they’d put in the effort I’d been hoping for all this time, and I could feel like my place in the family was unconditional.

I wasn’t holding my breath.

I parked in front of the house, and for a long moment, I just stared up at it, my mind going in too many directions as blood pounded in my ears.

“You ready for this?” Nolan asked after a while.

“No.” I looked at him. “But I don’t think I ever will be, so… Let’s do it.”

He studied me, but nodded. “All right. Just say the word when you’re ready to leave.”

God, I was so glad I’d brought him with me.

We got out of the car and headed up the walk. At the front door, I steeled myself. The hand on the small of my back brought my blood pressure down. Didn’t do much to help my nerves, but it was soothing. I’d take what I could get.

I took one last deep breath, then keyed us inside.

“Mom?” I called out. “Dad?”

“In the kitchen,” came Mom’s cheerful voice. As we approached the kitchen, she stepped out, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Good morning! I thought you boys were coming to breakfast.” She gestured over her shoulder. “There’s plenty of extra if you’re hungry!”

“We’re fine, Mom.” I forced a smile. “We ate at the hotel.”

“Oh, don’t eat at those places.” She scowled. “The food is terrible.”

“It’s fine.” Before she could fuss over us any further, I said, “Can we talk to you and Dad for a minute?”

Her expression turned to one of concern. “Is everything okay?”

No. No, it wasn’t.

“Yeah. I just need to talk to you.” I took Nolan’s hand. “ We need to talk to you.”

The look of confusion, concern, and horror was the kind of look I’d expect if I were a teenager who was about to tell them I’d knocked up the girlfriend they wished I had.

I wondered what she thought I needed to talk to them about. Maybe it was best I didn’t know.

Fortunately, she just went to get my father, and the four of us settled into the living room.

“So.” Dad peered at both of us. “I understand there’s something you want to talk about.”

“There is.” I took a deep breath as I tried to conjure up all the words I’d rehearsed on the way here.

Nolan put a reassuring hand on my knee, and I put mine over his wrist, thankful again for the contact.

Dad pushed out a breath, sounding about as exasperated as he had when I’d explained that I’d broken a window in the garage. “Are you two getting married or something?” The “please tell me you’re not” in his tone set my teeth on edge. And told me I was doing the right goddamned thing.

“No,” I said quietly. “We’re not getting married.”

Both of them relaxed minutely, obviously relieved by the news but still apprehensive over what I hadn’t yet said.

“We’re not coming to Easter service,” I said.

More relief. For fuck’s sake.

“Thank you, honey,” Mom said. “We’re glad you—”

“I’m not done,” I cut her off, keeping my voice gentle but firm.

My parents stared at me in silence.

I rubbed my thumb alongside Nolan’s arm just to remind myself we were touching. “We’re not coming to Easter service, and we’re actually leaving town.” I swallowed. “Today.”

“What?” Dad sat up straighter. “You came all this way, and—did the military call you back for something?”

“No. This is my choice.” I glanced at Nolan. “Our choice. We clearly aren’t welcome here, so—”

Instantly, my parents were talking over each other, insisting we were welcome and that this was nonsense.

“No, we’re not,” I said, and they both shut up. “Look. I love you both. But you’ve had a long, long time to figure out if you can accept me. And I’ve been as patient and accommodating as I can be while you figure it out.” Pushing out a breath, I shook my head. “I can’t just keep waiting for you to decide that I’m as much a part of this family as Kevin.”

“Riley!” Mom scoffed. “Of course you’re as much a part of—”

“No. I’m not. Not when you’re still curling your lip about who I am, and acting like my relationship and my identity are just some rebellious teenage phase I’m going to grow out of.” My voice was getting thick, but I barreled on. “And not when you want me to forego Easter service because you’re worried what people might think about your son showing up with a boyfriend.”

“That’s not it at all!” Dad countered. “We just don’t think—there are appropriate ways to behave in a church, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask for—”

“For us to not do things you and Mom do in public and in church all the time?” I laughed bitterly. “That’s part of the problem, too—the double standard. You don’t mind Kevin having his arm around Laura, and you have your arm around Mom, or you hold her hand—whatever. But suddenly when I want to sit next to Nolan, and maybe we want to show literally the same amount of affection you all do, it’s best if we just don’t come.”

To their credit, my parents looked somewhat sheepish. And for a second or two, I thought they might actually see the light.

But then my dad said, “Riley, you know we love you, but this is a difficult thing to understand. Two men together—it’s just not how we were raised.”

Frustration swelled in my chest, and I sighed heavily. “It’s not difficult. It really, really isn’t. We love each other the same way you and Mom do, and the same way Kevin and Laura do. It’s that simple. You’ve had years to get your heads around it—half my damn life . Or even just accept that maybe you don’t understand it but I do, and you don’t need to understand it to accept it. I’m not changing. I can’t change. This is who I am. You can change, and you’ve had plenty of time to, so the only conclusion I can come to is that you aren’t going to.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “You obviously don’t want to, and quite frankly, I’m not interested in staying where I’m not wanted.”

My parents both opened their mouths to speak, but I kept going.

“So we’re going to head out,” I said as firmly as my shaky voice would allow. “You know how to reach me. If you decide this”—I gestured at Nolan, then myself—“is something you can accept, let me know. But until then…” Fuck, this was so much harder than I’d thought it would be, and that said a lot.

A comforting hand appeared on my shoulder and squeezed. I put my hand over Nolan’s, letting that contact soothe me for a second or two before I finally managed, “Until you decide to accept that your son is gay, and that his partner is a man—I don’t want to hear from you.”

Those last seven words were the hardest thing I’d ever had to say. They were both the God’s honest truth and the most awful lie. I did want to hear from them… but not if it was going to be like this. I wasn’t doing this because it was fun or because I wanted to go no-contact with them. I had to, and it hurt .

“Riley,” Mom said. “Are you really going to cut off your family over this?”

I blinked the tears out of my eyes and met her gaze. “Are you really going to let your hangups about my sexuality send me out the door?”

“That’s enough,” Dad snapped. “Don’t you talk to your mother that way.”

“Yeah, you’ve always gotten on my case to respect Mom,” I said, those tears making it into my voice, “but at what point do either of you respect me? ”

Dad gave a long-suffering sigh. “We do respect you, Riley. But you can’t just expect us to be okay with something like this overnight.”

“How long do you need?” I barked, making everyone in the room jump, myself included. “I’ve been trying since I was sixteen to get you to love me and accept me— all of me—and you’ve just tried to either ignore or talk me out of being who I am.” I set my jaw and glared at my parents. “You’ve had plenty of time. When you decide that I’m a part of this family—no conditions, and no staying home from church so I don’t embarrass you—you know how to reach me.”

And then, before I lost my nerve, I got up and headed for the door.

My father shouted after me, but he stopped abruptly, and when I looked over my shoulder, I found him staring wide-eyed at Nolan. Nolan didn’t say a word, but his expression was colder than I’d ever seen it. He could be intimidating as hell, and he was using that to his advantage right now.

I touched his elbow. “Let’s go.”

He glanced at me, gave my parents one last frosty look, and then nodded and followed me out of the house.

Mom was crying before we got past the front door. I didn’t hear what Dad was saying to her, only that he was probably trying to comfort her. It hurt, because even when I was standing up for myself, I didn’t enjoy upsetting my mom. I didn’t enjoy any of this.

Beneath the hurt was a layer of chilly indifference, and beneath that, simmering anger, because I also knew those tears were weapons. If I went back into the living room now, Dad would remind me I’d upset her. Mom would sob and tell me I was her baby and she couldn’t lose me. They’d use her emotions to cut me down to size until I apologized and assured them it was all a misunderstanding and apologized again.

I wasn’t falling for it this time. I didn’t enjoy hurting my mom any more than I enjoyed angering my dad, but I was protecting myself. If no one else was going to be in my corner, then I had to be.

Except someone else is in your corner.

I snagged a glimpse of Nolan as we headed down the front porch steps. His expression was still icy and full of unspoken anger. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d put my dad in his place with a look. Without a single word, he’d told my dad to stand down when, had I been alone, I’d have been hit with a whole barrage of guilt trips and derision.

Maybe Nolan wasn’t my real boyfriend, but my parents thought he was, and he really did have my back.

Coming here was hell. Bringing you was the best decision I ever made.

At the car, Nolan halted. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No.” I continued around to the driver side. “I’ll be fine.”

I braced internally for insistence that he’d handle it, that I was too pissed off, that—

Nolan got into the passenger side and put on his seat belt.

Thank God. Because I wasn’t as fine as I wanted to be, and I didn’t have it in me to argue about whether I could drive. Which probably meant I shouldn’t be driving, but… fuck it.

I pulled out of my parents’ driveway. Glancing at the house in the rearview was a mistake. My family. My childhood home. I worried every fire season that this would be the year everything I’d ever known would be turned to ash. This felt like lighting the match myself. It would all still be standing today, tomorrow, the next day, but there was no going back, so it might as well have burned to the ground.

I swore under my breath as I tore my gaze away.

“You all right?”

“Not really.”

But I started driving anyway, and Nolan didn’t press the issue.

I didn’t get very far, though.

When we were far enough down the road that I was sure we couldn’t be seen from the house, I pulled over. Still gripping the wheel, I pressed my head back into the seat and blew out a harsh breath.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Beside me, a seat belt clicked. “Put the car in Park.”

I turned to Nolan. “Huh?”

He nodded toward the shifter.

Numbly, I did as I was told.

And then…

Then I was wrapped up in the strong arms of my stoic roommate. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t tell me to man up when my emotions started to shake me apart. He didn’t feed me any platitudes about doing the right thing. He just held me, and holy shit, I had never been more grateful for anything in my life.

When I could finally speak again, I mumbled into his shoulder, “I can’t decide if I’m surprised, or if this is exactly how I thought it would go.”

“Doesn’t matter if you’re expecting it or not.” God, his hand felt nice as he stroked over the back of my head. “Even if you’re expecting to get punched in the mouth, it still fucking hurts.”

I coughed a dry laugh as I started to draw back. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.” I swiped at my eyes. “I’m glad it’s done. But it sucks.”

He nodded. “Of course it does. They’re your parents.”

They were. And now they were gone.

I was suddenly exhausted. As if all the jetlag from crossing the Date Line had caught up to me at once, leaving my internal clock blinking 12:00 while I swayed and staggered in a zombielike daze.

Nolan peered at me with those sharp blue eyes. “Let me drive.” It wasn’t an order, but it also didn’t leave room for negotiation.

Or maybe it did, and I was just so far into this fucked up state that I couldn’t argue. Nodding numbly, I unbuckled my seat belt.

We switched sides, and I pressed back into the passenger seat. “Don’t take it personally if I fall asleep on you.”

He grunted. “Don’t worry about it.”

My eyelids had fluttered shut, but a single clear thought floated to the surface in the slurry that was my garbled thoughts. Forcing my eyes open, I asked, “Do you need me to direct you back to the hotel?”

“No.” He was thumbing something into his phone. “I put it in the GPS.”

Then he set the GPS on the dashboard in front of the tachometer, and the robotic voice told him to continue up the street.

Good enough.

I didn’t stay awake long enough to hear the next instruction.

I slept for a few hours at the hotel. I didn’t know if it really was the jetlag coming back to haunt me, or if I was just that drained from the confrontation with my family. Either way, I barely made it back to the room on my own power, and I faceplanted in bed, clothes and all.

When I was finally awake and had taken a shower to bring myself completely back to life, I texted Nolan to see what he was doing. Watching a movie, apparently; I didn’t realize I could hear the sound through the wall until it abruptly shut off.

A moment later, he was at my door, and I let him in. He regarded me curiously, concern pulling his eyebrows together. “You all right? I knocked a couple of times, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was asleep.” I scratched the back of my neck as I shut the door. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I grunted and shrugged. “I don’t know if ‘okay is the word, but…”

He nodded and left it at that. I appreciated that; he always seemed to know when to leave things alone.

I sat on the couch and Nolan joined me, but he left some space. Almost the entire middle cushion.

Maybe it was because I felt a million miles away from my family right now, but the distance between Nolan and me was uncomfortable.

Hoping like hell he didn’t pull away, I slid closer, still leaving a small gap. He glanced down at the narrow strip of upholstery between his thigh and mine, then met my eyes, questions visible in his.

I exhaled. “It’s been a shit day. I probably shouldn’t be in the mood for anything, but…”

He swallowed. “But we’ve been pretty good at unfucking each other’s shit days.” He cautiously rested his hand on my thigh, and I closed my eyes, the contact both soothing and electrifying. “Is that what you want? For us to—”

“Yes,” I breathed. Licking my lips, I looked at him again. “Coming, and making you come—that sounds a hell of a lot better than everything else.”

For a heartbeat, I thought he wouldn’t like that. As if I was straight up telling him that sex with him was stress relief.

But then he grinned, and—hell, he was right. We were good at unfucking each other’s bad days. It wasn’t at all uncommon for one of us to come home grumbling, and the other to come right out and ask, “Would it help if I sucked your dick?”

And I mean, getting my dick sucked never solved anything, but it sure made me feel better. He seemed to think along those lines.

Nolan slid his hand higher on my thigh, then over the front of my jeans. I sucked in a breath as he kneaded on my hardening cock. He loved to get me started that way—through my clothes, where the friction and pressure were amazing but not nearly enough, until I was begging him to just put his hand down my pants already. Or take them off. Something .

I could barely think when he was touching me like this. When he had me rock hard, and I knew we were moments away from him either stroking or sucking me off.

But there was a thought needling the back of my mind, and it wouldn’t shut the fuck up. An orgasm would make me feel better, but right then, I needed something more. I needed us to be closer. I needed… I just needed more, damn it.

Without thinking, I blurted out, “Can I ask you something?”

He raised his eyebrows, and his hand stopped. Lifting it away, he asked, “Uh. Okay?” His eyes added, We need to talk about this now?

But I kind of did, so I barreled on.

“Do, um…” I swallowed, struggling even harder to concentrate now that he wasn’t touching me. “Do you not like kissing?”

Nolan blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we…” I couldn’t hold his gaze. “Everything we’ve been doing since I moved in—it’s amazing. But I keep thinking, wouldn’t it be even hotter if we could kiss too?”

“Oh.”

The silence dragged on enough that I chanced a look at him. The confusion had vanished from his expression, replaced by apprehension.

I found his hand and laced our fingers together. Also new in bed, but what could I say? I’d gotten used to it since we’d been playing our roles in front of my family. “If you don’t like it or you don’t want to, that’s cool. Just… if you do want to…”

“Do you?” He sounded surprisingly timid.

I chewed my lip, not sure how honest I could be without sounding like I was pushing him. Finally, I said, “I love kissing. It makes everything…” I bit my lip and squirmed. “But… only if you’re into it, too.”

Nolan swallowed, flicking his eyes to my lips. I caught myself holding my breath as I wondered what was going through his mind. If he was considering it, or if he was trying to figure out how to explain why he wasn’t interested in more from me than handjobs and blowjobs.

And then, without a word, he slid a hand alongside my neck and drew me in. My heart went absolutely wild. My head spun, and it was only partly because I was still holding my breath. Oh, fuck. Was he really going to…

With our lips almost touching, he hesitated; I had no idea if he was savoring the moment or second-guessing himself, but I didn’t make any move to kiss him or pull away. I’d waited this long to get this far—I could wait for him to cross that last fraction of an inch.

And then…

He did.

This man had worked magic on my cock with his mouth, but every blowjob he’d ever given me paled in comparison to his kiss. Who could’ve guessed that this tough, tatted up Marine also had the softest, gentlest lips? Or that he knew exactly how to move them to liquefy my spine?

I wrapped my arms around his neck, partly to pull him closer and partly to keep myself from melting into his lap. I’d been kissed so many times before, but Nolan… holy shit, he could kiss.

I experimentally teased his lips with the tip of my tongue. That little whimper as he opened to my kiss—oh hell, I could get off on that alone. He let me explore his mouth, and then he did the same, and I didn’t think I’d ever experienced being tasted by someone like this. Being savored .

I was pretty sure there was something bad going on in my world, but in that moment, my world didn’t exist beyond the walls of this room. The confines of this couch, honestly—everything in my universe was concentrated into making him moan like that again, or getting him to pull in another sharp breath through his nose.

Fuck, why didn’t we start kissing sooner?

Well, it didn’t matter. We were kissing now, and I hoped like hell this wouldn’t be a one-time thing. From the way he was getting into this—his tentative exploration turning into something more assertive and maybe even a little demanding—I didn’t think he was going to put the kibosh on making out in the future.

You don’t even have to touch my dick ever again. Just make out with me on the couch, and I’ll be a happy man.

I shivered just thinking about that—making out with him on the same couch or in the same beds where we’d gotten each other off so many times before.

Please, yes. Please, please, baby, yes.

After God only knew how long, we finally came up for air, and we were both breathing hard as we stared at each other. His pupils were blown. Mine probably were too. I’d had a few first kisses in my life, but never one as long, intense, or fucking amazing as that one. Jesus Christ.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” I murmured.

Panting against my lips, he whispered, “Yeah, it is.”

He tensed a little, and I wondered if he was expecting me to grill him about why he hadn’t been willing to kiss me before or tell him “I told you so.”

Fuck that. I curved my hand behind his head, drew him back in, and kissed him again. We made out even harder now. Hungrily. Greedily. Like we weren’t just exploring something new, we were making up for lost time. Christ, why hadn’t we done this before?

Whatever. It was hot, and I couldn’t possibly get any harder. Then Nolan pushed a hand between us, and I whimpered into his kiss as he resumed stroking me through my jeans. When I reciprocated, he broke the kiss with a few slurred curses, but then he had my mouth again.

Though the process was clumsy when we were both this distracted by making out, we managed to get each other’s jeans open and rucked down enough to free our cocks. Then he was on top of me, propping himself up on one arm. One of the beds was like two feet away, but fuck it, the couch would work. The second his fingers closed around my cock, I swore I was halfway there, and the way his hips bucked from my first stroke, I was surprised he didn’t go off right away.

The handjobs we’d shared before had been almost mechanical—enough to get us both off, but nothing to write home about.

This? Oh my God. The more we made out, the more frantically we pumped each other. We thrust into each other’s hands, kissing deep and hard as we chased our orgasms together.

Nolan broke the kiss with a gasp. He thrust harder into my fist, and at the same time, pumped me for all he was worth.

“That’s it,” I whispered. “You getting there?”

The sound he made was definitely an affirmative, and when I added a little twist to my strokes, he gave a helpless moan that made my toes curl. With a cry that everyone in the hotel probably heard, he came, turning my strokes slick and hot as he fucked into my fist.

Then he slumped over me, trembling and panting. “Fuck…”

“That is so much hotter when we’re making out,” I slurred.

“Uh-huh.” He lifted his head and brushed his lips across mine. “Seriously.”

We exchanged grins. Then we grabbed some tissues to wipe away the cum, and I’d barely tossed those in the bedside trash before Nolan’s talented, eager lips were around my dick.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, arching off the couch. He’d always been one of those guys who gave head like he thought it was the best thing ever, and tonight… Fucking hell, tonight he was absolutely going to town on me. Maybe I was just that turned on, or maybe he really was adding something to the things he did with his hand, lips, and tongue.

All I knew was I was on the edge already, and I didn’t even bother trying to hold back. As much as I wanted to just lie here and enjoy this, there was no stopping the orgasm he was expertly working to wring out of me, so I surrendered happily. Cursing and gasping, I levitated off the couch and came down his throat, the whole world turning white for a couple of blissful seconds.

And then I was treated to something even hotter. Nolan over me, moving in for a kiss, but he hesitated.

“Do you mind if I kiss you? Um, after—”

My answer was to haul him down and claim his mouth, my body still shaking all over as I kissed him hard. It had never turned me on or off to taste myself on a man’s tongue, but something about it with Nolan was just… fuuuck .

“Jesus Christ,” I murmured when we separated. “That is so damn good.”

He grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

I kissed him again, then gestured at the bed. “Maybe we should move over there. It’s more comfortable.”

“Good idea.”

As we settled on the bed, I asked, “Is that something you’re good with doing going forward? Making out and stuff? Or just a one-time thing?”

He seemed to think about it, then shrugged. “I don’t mind doing it. I like it. I, um, I like it a lot.” He met my gaze, brow pinched as if he again wondered if I’d grill him.

I touched his face and kissed him lightly. “I like it too. But only if you’re into it.”

Something about that sent a ripple of surprise across his expression. Before I could ask about it one way or another, we were kissing again.

And oh, yeah. Nolan was into it.

Dinner was at the hotel café again. Then we returned to my room, and despite my exhaustion from this fucked-up day, it turned out I did have one more orgasm left in me. So did Nolan.

A couple of blowjobs later, we lay on my bed, kissing lazily. That part was going to be a novelty for a while. I loved it.

After a long, comfortable silence, we separated. Nolan held my gaze, absently sliding his hand up and down my waist. “So, since our, uh, plans have changed—what do we do the next few days? Because the next flight out to Lewis-McChord isn’t until Tuesday.” Though we hadn’t trusted military flights enough for our transoceanic trip, we’d planned to fly to Washington from North Island.

“Oh. Damn. You’re right.” I exhaled. Fuck. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “I mean, I guess we can go… I don’t know… do tourist shit for a few days?”

Nolan quirked his lips. “We could.”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that. But…” He shifted a little. “The thing is, the flight out of here means we have to be there at 0300 for role call. We just got over the jetlag from coming across the ocean.”

I scowled and exhaled. “Ugh. That’s gonna suck.”

“We, um… We don’t have to do that.”

I cocked my head. “We don’t? I mean, I guess not, but even San Diego to Seattle tickets are expensive as hell at the last minute.”

“We could drive.”

That had my eyebrows climbing. “Drive? Really?”

He shrugged. “It’s like a day and a half if we seriously push. Three if we take our sweet time. I looked at the weather earlier, and everything is clear between here and Seattle for like the next ten days. No storms. No unusual snow in the mountains or on the pass. No dealing with airport bullshit, no getting up at the crack of dawn for a military flight, and we can take as much or as little time as we want.”

“That sounds really good,” I admitted. “Just sitting through role call for a Space A flight sounds…” I wrinkled my nose.

He nodded, grimacing. We’d both done enough space available flights to have firsthand experience with the fuckery and bullshit that was role call. Be there at 0300, role call started at 0600, you knew for sure if you were getting on the flight by 0930, and the flight left at 1130. If everything went smoothly, which it rarely did. The whole process sucked , but a free flight was a free flight.

Now that he was suggesting it, driving didn’t sound half bad.

“Let’s do it.” I said. “I’m sure we can change the rental agreement for the car. Or just rent another one.”

“Yeah. We can call them tomorrow, I guess.” Nolan checked his phone and sighed. “It’s getting late, though. We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, we should.” Despite my long nap earlier, I was still exhausted. I told myself it was from the orgasms, not from cutting ties with my family.

We both sat up, and I cupped his neck and kissed him softly. “You, um… You don’t have to stay in the other room tonight.”

Please stay here with me, I was too embarrassed to say out loud. I want to sleep next to you .

Nolan avoided my gaze for a moment, gnawing his bottom lip.

“I know we have both rooms,” I pressed gently. “But… we don’t have to use them, you know?”

“We paid for them.”

“We did. But… I mean, the offer is open if you want to.”

For the life of me, I couldn’t begin to parse the thoughts obviously banging around in his mind. He seemed like he really was debating staying or going, but I had no idea what pros and cons—especially cons—were keeping him from answering.

What is going on in that brain of yours, Nolan?

After a moment, he shook his head. “I’d rather…” He nodded toward the other room.

All the years of practice pretending to be fine with my parents’ bullshit served me well; I kept a perfectly placid expression and tone that didn’t betray any hurt or confusion. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

He searched my eyes as if he expected some kind of argument. And yeah, there were several arguments I wanted to make.

But I wasn’t going to beg him to stay. I didn’t go where I wasn’t wanted, and I didn’t want someone here who didn’t want to be with me.

“We can figure out our hotels along the way tomorrow,” I said. “We’ve got time, so… no rush making plans, right?”

He nodded as he got up, probably unaware of how obvious his relief was in the set of his shoulders and the easing tension in his features. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll figure it out. Maybe over breakfast.”

“Sounds good. Text me when you’re up?”

“Will do.”

And then…

He was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Alone, I pressed back against the headboard. When the door to the next room opened, then closed, I swore into the stillness. Nothing drove home what I was to him like him leaving after sex like a hookup heading out to catch an Uber.

Sometimes I wondered if there was a chance this thing between us would tip over into something beyond friends who knew how to get each other off. But then he’d remind me exactly where I stood with him.

I’d wondered more than once if Nolan was aromantic. I’d thought he might just be rigid about only getting into situationships while he was overseas.

Maybe I was just a roommate with benefits. Or maybe he just wasn’t that into me.

There were moments when I thought he might be that into me, though, and not just tonight when he’d finally kissed me or today when he’d backed my dad down with a look. It was things like that comment he’d made about growing his hair out after his “boyfriend” said he liked high-and-tights. He could’ve just been saying it to plant the seeds in my parents’ minds that we were a real couple, but… I really had said I loved high-and-tights, and he really had transitioned to one shortly after.

And there was that night when I’d raved about how he’d grilled steaks, and suddenly he’d started cooking for both of us more often. Not just simple meals out of a can or box, either; it was like once I let on that I liked his cooking, he’d started breaking out the more creative dishes and those recipes he never usually made for anyone but himself. His from-scratch carrot cake was absolutely sinful, and…

And he always made it without walnuts.

I’d never asked him to, and he’d never said a word about it, but one of the thing I’d loved about his carrot cake was the absence of walnuts. Was that how he always made it? Or was it because I’d made an offhand comment that I thought it was a crime to ruin baked goods by adding walnuts to them?

I stared up at the hotel room ceiling. Was he giving off mixed messages? Or was I reading into things that weren’t there? Because making a cake without an ingredient I disliked and cutting his hair a certain way that I happened to find attractive didn’t change the fact that there was a wall between us. More than one, actually—figurative ones, but also, right now, a literal one. Because just like at home, we’d have amazing sex, and then… he’d leave. Every time.

The insistence on separate rooms—at home or traveling—was both frustrating and confusing. This time, I had to admit that it hurt, too. I was too fucking raw right now because I’d just dropped the hammer on going no-contact with my family, and I was still reeling from that, and fuck me but I craved physical affection tonight in ways I never had before. Or even just some company .

I still had friends in and around San Diego, but no one I’d stayed close enough to that I could call them up for this. I couldn’t drag my brother into the middle of it. And if I was honest, the only person whose company I wanted right now was the man who insisted on sleeping in the next room.

I rubbed my eyes and swore into the stillness.

This was how he wanted things, and I wouldn’t push him. I wouldn’t try to persuade him to do something he didn’t want to do, especially knowing there was something in his past he wasn’t talking about.

But my God, what I wouldn’t have given to spend the night beside him.

Especially tonight when I was so fucking alone.