Page 100 of Addiction

This is it: the life I’ve always wanted yet been too afraid to have.

I want this life. And it starts now.

I smile. “No more running.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Wade

I rest against Asher’s chest as we lay on his bed, snuggled together.

It’s not dark out, but the low light filtering in the room suggests it’s almost sunset. We’ve been here for hours, and right now, it’s everything I need.

His thick, muscled arm wraps around me, and I’ve never felt more protected. I’ve imagined this so many times, but in reality, it’s so much more. This man has opened up to me and allowed me to explore his body in all the ways I’ve been craving, and I’m thankful that he’s put his trust in me.

When I got his text earlier, I was unsure whether to come over as the last thing I wanted to do was set him back. And now, here in his arms, I don’t want anything to change because I don’t think I can go back. He’s too deep in my heart for me to want anything other than this. Other than us.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

“What makes you think I’m thinking about anything?”

“Because you go all quiet and do that thing with your finger and thumb when you’re thinking.”

A little smile tugs the corner of my lips. I have a habit of slowly circling the tip of my forefinger around the pad of my thumb. “You’ve noticed that, huh?”

“Yep. And the way you frown when you’re concentrating. Or the way you roll your neck when you’re stressed.”

“Wow.” I laugh. “You have taken notice.”

“Of course. I’ve often watched without you realizing.”

“Oh, I knew. I just never said anything.” I trail my fingers up and down his forearm. “I’ve wanted to say so many things to you, but I knew you had to find your way.”

“Did you ever have any doubt that I would?”

Not one. Because I’d known that no matter how deep he’d hidden his sexuality from the world, there’d be a day he’d crack.

“Never. Everyone has to break at some point. Whether it be for the good or the bad. I knew you’d find your way eventually.”

“I have you to thank for that. Even though I knew who I was, something was stopping me from being me. I’d always fought my feelings thinking they were wrong, even though I knew deep down they weren’t.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself: everyone struggles at times. Demons are the worst. Believe me.”

He links his hand with mine. “That sounds like someone talking from experience.”

I sigh heavily. “I used to have panic attacks when I was a teen. I don’t know if it was hormones, anxiety around living in a big city, or the toxic environment that was home. But every so often, they’d hit me hard. Most times, I never had a reason for them. One day I could be feeling fine, and the next I’d be clutching my chest because I couldn’t breathe. It was the worst.”

“Do you still have them?”

I swallow hard. I haven’t had them since the day of Jonny’s funeral—the day my father banished me from saying my goodbyes to the person in the world who’d meant the most to me.

The day I relocated, before Jonny’s death, I found a therapist, which was a massive help for me. I’d learnt to control them, and not allow them to control me. I hadn’t had any until the funeral, but thankfully haven’t had one since.

“Not anymore. Yoga is great for the mindset. You should try it more often.”

He laughs. “My attempts at yoga so far have done nothing to my body and only made you laugh at me more.”

“It’ll come in time.” I smile. “You just need more practice.”