Page 46 of Pages of My Heart

He closes his eyes because he can’t bear to look at Charlie right now. “You realize if you . . . if you die”—he chokes out the word—“I have no say in your funeral. No claim to any of your belongings. My name won’t be on your tombstone as your spouse. It’ll be like you and I never even existed.”

“Well,” Charlie sighs dramatically, “I guess I better not fuckin’ die then.”

Thomas’s eyes fly open and he glares at him. “This is no joking matter!”

“Tommy, it don’t matter what my dog tags say.

” Charlie runs a soothing thumb over the crease between Thomas’s eyes, then down his nose and across his lips.

“To me, you are my spouse, and my family, and Evie will always make sure you know what happens to me. Now stop talkin’ about this depressing shit and let me tell you about drill Sergeant Kerns and all the screws he’s got loose. ”

They talk for hours. Charlie makes him laugh until his stomach hurts with tales of Sergeant Kern’s crazy antics.

At one point he even gets out of bed to impersonate Kerns while buck naked.

Thomas understands that boot camp has been hard and that humor is a way to get through it.

Men are raised to cover every sign of weakness, and Charlie is nothing if not an expert at that.

Around midnight, Thomas has Charlie lie on his stomach so he can massage his aching muscles.

Starting at his shoulders, he moves down Charlie’s toned back and over the curve of his ass, ending at his ticklish feet, where he coaxes delicious giggles out of him.

Thomas then reverses course, but this time using his mouth—kissing, licking, and nibbling Charlie from his toes all the way back up to his shoulders.

While his hand strokes through Charlie’s freshly washed hair, he kisses and nuzzles the back of his neck, humming contentedly to the sound of Charlie’s blissful sighs.

Thomas gently nudges Charlie’s legs apart and settles between them.

He presses Charlie’s hands to the mattress, threading their fingers together in an act of both possession and devotion.

Charlie is loose-limbed and pliant beneath him, and Thomas settles over him, hot and heavy, with his chest pressed to Charlie’s back.

The warmth of Charlie’s body welcomes him home, and Charlie writhes and gasps, and Thomas’s heart feels full once more.

Charlie

Charlie emerges slowly from sleep, sighing with satisfaction at the warmth of Thomas’s body behind him. He wriggles around to face Thomas and settles back in, nestled under his chin. It takes him one, maybe two minutes before he remembers . . .

They’re not at home, sheathed in the safety of their bedroom.

And soon, he’ll once again be ripped from his lover’s embrace.

The realization weighs on him, making him feel so much older than his twenty-six years.

They began with two nights, and now within the blink of an eye only one remains.

There is conflict in him between wanting to squeeze every word, every look, every goddamn thing into the next twenty-four hours and wanting to simply remain in this bed bathed in Thomas’s touch, his skin, his scent.

Thomas stirs. Charlie pulls back, watching Thomas’s eyes flutter open and closed a few times before they focus on Charlie’s face.

“Morning, my love.” A sleepy smile curls at the corners of Thomas’s mouth.

“Tommy,” is all he manages to say, cataloguing this moment to memory.

“What time is it?”

“Not sure.” Charlie turns to reach for his wristwatch on the nightstand. “Would you believe 10:30?”

“Christ, almost half the day is gone. How do you want to spend the rest of it?”

Charlie rolls back into Thomas’s arms and threads his fingers through red hair. “As much as I’d like to stay forever in this bed with you, I want to go into town and see if I can pick something up at the store.”

“Well, we better get a move on then. What do you need to buy?”

“Never you mind, Red.”

Once Charlie spots the store he needs, he has a hard time getting Thomas to leave him alone.

“Tommy, take a walk and see if you can find me a candy bar. Then meet me back here in ten.”

“Why are you being so secretive?”

“It ain’t nothing bad. You’ll just have to trust me. Okay?”

“Fine, but I don’t like leaving you—even just for ten minutes. What if you’re not here when I get back and I can’t find you?”

“Thomas . . .” Charlie leans in closer, so no one passing on the street can hear him. “Sweetheart, give me ten minutes now, and I’ll spend ten minutes on my knees later.”

Thomas steps back with an eager grin on his face. “See you in ten, then.” He gives Charlie an appraising look up and down and then heads off.

Charlie takes a moment to appreciate his backside as he walks away, then dashes across the road to the bookstore, sighing with relief once he’s inside.

“Uh, where would I find the poetry section?” he asks the man standing at the front counter.

“Far aisle, about three quarters of the way down. Please let me know if you would like some assistance, sir.”

“Yeah, uh . . . thanks.”

He wanders down the far aisle until he comes to the section he wants.

There is quite a lot to choose from, but one book stands out immediately: Ode to Love: The Greatest Love Poems of All Time.

Pulling it from the shelf, he flicks to the table of contents and finds some familiar names—names of poets Thomas has mentioned before.

Without a second thought, he takes it up to the front counter and pays. Then he gets an idea.

“Do ya got any gift wrap or anything?”

“Only brown paper, sir. But I can wrap it in that and tie a bow around it.”

“That would be great. Can I borrow a pen first?”

“Certainly, sir. Anything for one of our young soldiers. Is it for your girl? Your wife, maybe?”

“Uh, yeah, somethin’ like that,” Charlie mumbles as he takes the pen, his face flushing hot. Why didn’t he just answer with a simple “yes”? But he’s running out of time and he can’t stop to dwell on it, so he opens the book to the inside cover and begins to write.

To my sweetheart,

If someone were to write a poem about us, it would be the best one in this book.

All my love on your 24th birthday.

Eternally yours,

Charlie x

A few minutes later he’s back outside, the book tucked safely inside his jacket pocket, ready to give to Thomas when they’re alone.

He spots Thomas walking toward him, right on time, and smiles—that is, until he notices Joey and some of the others from his company walking right behind him, and it slaps the grin right off his face.

Perhaps it was naive to assume they wouldn’t run into anyone, but he had hoped none the less.

Thomas reaches him, candy bar held out in offering, just as the men spot him.

“Miller! Good to see you.” Joey slaps him hard on the back with a toothy grin.

A round of greetings is exchanged while Thomas stands quietly behind him.

Charlie steps back, motioning to Thomas. “This is Thomas O’Reilly, my buddy who’s been puttin’ me up for the weekend. We went to school together back in Chicago. Thomas, this is Joey, Will, Grant, and everyone just calls this guy Chubba.”

Thomas shakes hands with them while Charlie contemplates how to get away as quickly as possible. But Joey chimes in before he can make their excuses.

“Charlie, have you been on that double date yet?” Joey follows it up with his customary wink and a light elbow jab to Chubba’s ribs.

Charlie never gets used to lying. If anything, the longer he does it, the more he fucking hates it.

He also feels especially vulnerable right now, the book for Thomas suddenly like a hot brand against his chest. “Nah, not yet. That’s tonight.

O’Reilly says she’s a real looker. But I dunno .

. . after last night I think I’m kinda sweet on O’Reilly’s sister, Maggie.

She’s got long red hair and curves in all the right places, if ya catch my drift.

” Charlie makes a lewd face, and all the boys burst into laughter.

“O’Reilly, you better keep your eye on your sis with this scoundrel around,” Joey says. “The stories he’s told us . . . Miller’s got all the right moves.”

“I reckon I better keep both eyes on him.” Charlie risks a glance in his direction and sees that Thomas’s face has turned an angry shade of red. “He’ll be getting a fucking knuckle sandwich if he goes anywhere near my little sister.”

A round of juvenile reactions follow, but Charlie doesn’t join in, his body turning ice cold. He doesn’t know what made him say it, but he’s crossed a line, and he knows it. Thomas’s refusal to even look at him right now speaks volumes.

“You boys enjoy yourselves,” Charlie manages to say, already moving away. “We gotta dash.”

Charlie walks in the direction of the motel with Thomas following not far behind, his heavy breaths a constant reminder that Charlie screwed up.

But there’s no point beginning a conversation while they’re out in public, so they continue in silence until they reach their room.

The moment the door is closed, Thomas moves into his space, his eyes filled with ire.

“Why, Charlie? Why would you say that about Maggie?”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, truly baffled by his own behavior. “I was trying to throw ’em off. It just popped into my head! Why are you so fuckin’ angry about it?”

Thomas turns away and starts pacing in front of the bed. “I don’t know. It just . . . fuck, Charlie! You and Maggie get along so well, and she’s my . . . my sister!”

“What, you think there’s some part of me that’s attracted to Maggie?” Charlie’s mouth turns down in disgust. “Jesus, Tommy! If anyone should be worried here, it should be me. I’ve seen the way Evie looks at you.”