Stone’s fingers stilled. “They whipped you?”
“Aversion therapy. At least, that was what they called it. Personally, I always thought the director of the camp was a sadistic asshole. For someone trying to beat the gay out of me, he didn’t do a very good job as a role model. He used to get hard while whipping me.”
“Fuck.”
“It was a long time ago, Stone.”
A memory I’d rather forget.
“Doesn’t make it hurt any less that your parents did it.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen.” I smiled at Stone’s sharp inhale. “My father caught me kissing a boy and flipped. A week later I was at the camp.”
“How long were you there?”
“Six months.” Each day had felt like an eternity.”
“I’m sorry, love.”
I rolled as far as I was able to so I could look at Stone. “Do you mean that?”
Stone’s eyebrows flickered as he frowned. “Mean what?”
“You called me love. Did you mean it?”
“Oh.”
For a moment—one horrible, heart-breaking moment—I thought my world was going to explode.
“Yes, I meant it. I wasn’t in love with you when I found you, but after you made me make all those weekly phone calls and I got to know the real you, it wasn’t hard to get there.”
“Oh.” I blinked rapidly when my eyes filled. “I love you, too.”
Stone’s grin was as easy and relaxed as I had ever seen him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Stone wiggled his eyebrows. “Kind of works out well for us then, huh?”
This funny, joking side of Stone was one I had never seen before.
I liked it.
“We still have to discuss what made you sick, Sin.”
“I know, but can I have just a few more minutes?”
I was basking. I wanted to stay basking. The real world could go screw itself.
“You can have as much time as you need, love.”
That was never going to get old.
“You should carry me into the shower.”
