“The important kind.”
Andy thumped his head against the headboard and closed his eyes. The sound of Leonidas’s breathing distracted him and he bit his lip between his teeth to stop himself from saying something regrettable.
Andy allowed himself to think about Todd and the life he’d left when he moved away from Carrolwood. It felt weird to think about Todd while he was in bed with another man, and even weirder, it was wrong to think about Leonidas existing in the places that belonged to his ex. He didn’t have hard feelings about their breakup, and to him, it hadn’t felt like it was coming from nowhere, but he also hadn’t asked Todd.
Maybe he’d been callous with the way he’d called off their three year-long relationship, but when the opportunity to travel had arisen, it hadn’t even been a choice for him. There was no option, and there had been no interest in companionship. He didn’t want to pull someone along with him as he made his way around the globe, and so he’d ended things. But now…maybe things were different.
But back then, Todd hadn’t cried or yelled and neither had he. They hadn’t fought; hell, they never fought. Todd had always been so easy. So agreeable. So…boring.
“That silence sounds like a yes,” Leonidas said with a low laugh.
“No.” He sighed. “I don’t think I broke his heart. I think we got too comfortable and broke each other’s hearts. But it was a slow thing and neither of us noticed.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It wasn’t. Is that bad?” He looked at Leonidas, who watched him with an expression of sorrowful confusion. His gorgeous mouth was turned down at the corners, looking like the idea of that was the worst thing in the world.
“Maybe it wasn’t love.” Leonidas shrugged and reached for the wine. “I don’t think love is something that could die out and not get noticed.”
“Maybe.”
Andy didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about the difference between how he’d felt for Todd and the bright, dangerous things he felt for this stranger in his bed. Even if it wasn’t love, he would notice when it died.
“I don’t want to talk about him, about that.” Andy took the bottle and set it on the nightstand.
“What then?” Leonidas grinned and pulled Andy onto his lap. Their skin was sticky from a light sheen of sweat mixed with lingering dampness from the shower. “Did you want me to do that thing with my tongue again?”
Andy flushed with desire, and he raised his hand to his throat, feeling the heat pouring off his skin.
“I would hate myself if I didn’t ask you again,” he whispered, kissing his way up the side of Leonidas’s neck to his ear.
“Andy.”
“You want to travel. Travel with me.”
“Where would you take me?”
Andy reached between their stomachs and pushed the thin edges of his short fingernails into the skin of Leonidas’s cock.
“Cherry Creek.”
Leonidas grabbed his hand and stilled him.
“America,” Andy said, nipping at Leonidas’s earlobe.
“I’ve never been.”
“Come.” Andy gouged his nails deeper and Leonidas arched off the bed and into him.
“You know I won’t,” Leonidas said.
Andy tried to not be sad, tried to pretend like these hours would be enough, but he knew it wouldn’t be. But he could lie to himself for a little.
“I know,” he agreed, pressing their mouths together and sliding down into the sheets.
Time became a blur, and when Andy woke up in the morning, Leonidas was gone.
14
