“How could you think you aren’t good enough for me when you’re so goodtome?”
Ian sucked in a breath.“I’m not good to you.I used you.”
Sam shrugged his not-throbbing shoulder.“No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Not really.”Ian gave him an exaggeratedly stupid look.“Maybe at first,” Sam conceded.He had to duck his head to admit it, but, “It wasn’t really that ...I’d never been used for sex before.It was sort of, um, novel.Flattering.”
“Oh, kiddo,” Ian said softly, kissing him.“But I also wasn’t good to you yesterday.I let you think—”
“Ian, it was a mistake.A miscommunication.Oh, hey, we had the Big Mis.”
Ian wrinkled his forehead.“What’s that?”
“It’s short for ‘Big Misunderstanding’—a commonly used plot device in romance novels.Never mind, just go on.”
“I should have been there for you tonight too.Those pricks might not have—”
Sam slapped his hand over Ian’s mouth.“You wouldn’t have been there even if we hadn’t had the Big Mis.You were at work.No guilt,” he said sternly.
Ian raised his eyebrows.
“I mean it,” Sam said.“No guilt.”
Ian rolled his eyes, then licked Sam’s palm.Sam removed his hand.
Unfortunately, Ian still felt he had transgressions to confess.“I told you I loved you during sex.Turns out that’s some kind of taboo also.”
“But youdolove me, you just told me so again.”
Ian took a deep breath and held it.“I just need to know if you ...feel like that for me, or if you maybe think you could someday.”
Sam stared at him.“Love you?”
Ian nodded, eyes downcast.
“Are youinsane?”Ian’s eyes flew up to look into his.“Of course I love you, Ian.Everyone but you can tell.Nik knows, Jurgen knows, Miller knows, everyone.You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to know.”
Ian swallowed.“So are you saying youdolove me?”
“Yes.Ian, I’m crazy about you.I love you.You’re everything I ever wanted.You—”
Ian interrupted him with a kiss.“Let’s go home,” he whispered, then gave him another peck.
On the way home, they filled Sam’s prescription for yet more “good drugs.”By then, Sam’s head pounded even worse.“I thought they weren’t supposed to give these things to people with concussions,” he moaned when Ian returned to the truck from the pharmacy.
Ian handed him a bottle of water and two pills.“That’s just a myth.”
“Oh, that’s good.”Sam took his pills.
By the time they made it home—to Ian’s place—Sam could barely stand he was so loopy; Ian had to help him stay upright.Nik and Jurgen were there, an empty wine bottle on the coffee table, and an obviously drunk Nik with his head in Jurgen’s lap on the couch.
Nik sprang up when they walked in.“Oh my God, I was so worried!”He rushed toward Sam, trying to hug him.
Ian wouldn’t let go of him.“He’s injured,” he barked.“Be gentle with him.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.He wants you to be gentle with me,” Sam told Nik.“That’s my bear laird.”
