"How old are you, Tom without the h?"
"Twenty-nine," I replied.
"I was right," he whispered, almost to himself. "I didn't forget you. I didn't let myself remember you."
"That's one way to revise history." I snapped one of the containers shut. "And what about you, Old Man of the Mountain?"
Wes pressed his palm to his chest. "Can't you see I'm already wounded? Jesus. Please. Allow my thirty-six-year-old ass some dignity."
I studied the dark shadows under his eyes. He was tired but that wasn't a symptom; it was his state of being.
"Will you come back?"
I stared at him, not sure I understood what he was asking. I didn't know whether I wanted him to want me. Or not want me. Or any of it. I didn't think so. I couldn't get my arms around the contradiction of being forgotten and memorable all in the same day. I decided I wasn't going to try. The sentiment was far too familiar for my liking.
"Shannon is technically on maternity leave until late April or maybe early May but she's started doing some work again. I'll be dropping by to meet with her once or twice a week until she's back in the office. More, if she needs it."
I turned my gaze to the takeout containers and started consolidating the leftovers. A few pieces of hamachi remained along with some uni and tako. I'd ordered the California rolls in an odd attempt at bratty humor but Wes had eaten all of them.
"I didn't ask you about Shannon."
His words scraped out. Rough, a bit annoyed. I liked it so much that I wanted to rub my face up his thigh and nestle myself in his lap and beg him to grumble at me some more. He didn't need to know that. "Then what are you asking?"
He laughed, shook his head as if he couldn't believe someone would make him spell himself out. And why should he? He was perfect and hot, and that fuzzy chest, for fuck's sake.For fuck's sake, he has stupid muscles.
"I'm asking if you'd visitmeagain," he said. "With or without the A-plus sushi. I can't get far on my own—"
"Somehow, I don't believe that," I said under my breath.
Another laugh, another head shake. "Okay, I'll grant you that," he replied. "I'm notsupposedto go far. How about that? Do you believe it?"
"I'll accept it," I said. "And what is it you're looking to gain from me visiting you?"
He tapped his fingers against his sweatshirt. "I have several answers for that but I guess the truth is I'll get a friend. I'm in short supply at the moment."
I continued tidying the coffee table as I thought about Shannon and Will and the rest of the Walsh family, and I wondered how anyone could want for friends with that crew on hand.
But then I remembered how I spent my days surrounded by that same crew and felt exactly as Wes did. They'd do anything for me and they'd be there in a heartbeat if I needed them. Shannon was the mother-sister-fairy-godmother I'd needed but never deserved. But they didn't live in my world. They didn't share my reality.
"All right. I'll come back," I replied, hazarding a glance at Wes. A smile warmed his face and it took all my strength to keep from dragging him into my arms because anyone with that much sweet and boyish needed to be held close, held tight. And degraded a bit too. Yeah, some time on his knees would do him real good. "How about Friday?"
8
Wes
Back when Iwas going through BUD/S, the Navy SEAL qualifying course, one of the training exercises involved hiking through the Tijuana mudflats at night. It wasn't true quicksand but it was impossible to cross that terrain without experiencing the unmistakable suction of thick, wet mud. And the urban legends were accurate—fighting the force of the mud only made it suck harder.
Being trapped at my brother's house with a slew of injuries and an order to wait indefinitely for further instructions from the CIA reminded me of those flats.
I was stuck. I couldn't go anywhere. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't fix any of the problems in my life. I was…stuck.
And it sucked so hard.
* * *
I knewthe minute Tom's car cruised down the driveway but I resolved to stay in the apartment and wait for him to arrive at my door. I was in control here. I had a plan for this evening and that plan didn't include scampering down the stairs and fussing all over him.
No, I had my shit in order. I was chill. I'd pop open a beer, try to reach the itchy spot on my back that'd been driving me nuts all day, and wait for him to come to me.
