He nodded. And the bed shifted a bit as Jake settled down onto his back. Then Rye closed his eyes, turned on his side, and scooted closer and then closer and then closer again. Jake moved a tiny bit, too, and then Rye was there—in that spot he knew and loved so much, with his head in the crook of Jake’s shoulder and Jake’s arm around him and his hand right in the middle of Jake’s chest.
He let out a shuddering breath as overwhelming feelings ofrightnessandsafetyspread through him. And when Jake kissed his forehead and whispered a gentle “I love you,” all the rest of that tension left in him seemed to fade. He snuggled in a little closer still, and his next breath also shuddered, sending a tremor through his whole body.
But Jake was there holding him, breathing another kiss on his forehead and lightly stroking his forearm in the most wonderful way. And he felt... okay.
At least okay enough to let himself relax back into a comfortable sleep for a while.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Jake
Jakelayinbed,Rye cuddled up in his arms, and he worked to control his breathing. He’d been working to control his breathing, among other things, for a good couple of hours now, as Rye continued sleeping. Peacefully. Quietly. His head lying on Jake’s chest and his blond curls falling over his forehead.
The sight tugged at Jake’s heart. Again. And Jake closed his eyes and took another slow, deep breath.
He hadn’t been so sure about this when he’d agreed to it. He’d thought Rye wouldn’t be able to handle being this close, this intimate, letting Jake hold him while he slept. God, it didn’t get much more intimate than this, did it? And yet, Rye had barely hesitated. He’d curled up right beside Jake, his hand finding its perfect spot right on the center of Jake’s chest, and he’d closed his eyes. Within only minutes, it seemed, Rye had been asleep.
Jake, however, hadn’t slept another wink. But he also wasn’t that tired. Especially now.
Rye stirred, stretching, and hummed a quiet sound. Then he tensed, his hand pressing into Jake’s chest.
“Hey,” Jake said softly. And he brought his hand up to cover Rye’s, hoping the touch would comfort his boyfriend. Sure enough—thankfully—Rye let out a breath and seemed to relax as he buried his head deeper into Jake’s shoulder. Jake let his thumb rub across the top of Rye’s hand, and then he leaned in slightly and pressed his lips to Rye’s forehead. “You were sleeping for a while. How are you feeling? Better?”
Rye took another few breaths and then nodded. “I think so.”
Jake waited for him to say more, but he didn’t, and so, Jake shifted onto his side. His bad leg ached from how he’d been lying there—usually he shoved a pillow under his knee if he was going to be lying on his back for any length oftime—but he ignored it and lifted his hand to gently brush back the hair falling over Rye’s face.
Something in his chest fluttered and stuttered, and he bit his lower lip as he repeated the motion, tracing his fingers along Rye’s forehead and back to his temple.
Rye’s eyes were closed, but he sighed, and as far as Jake could tell, it was a happy sigh. He smiled, leaned in, and kissed Rye’s forehead one more time, and he let his hand caress down Rye’s neck and shoulder and then to the bare skin of Rye’s upper arm.
“Mmm,” Rye hummed as Jake’s fingertips grazed along Rye’s skin, stopping at his elbow.
“Mm-hmm,” Jake agreed, and he heard a quiet laugh from Rye.
“Mmm, what time is it? How long was I asleep?”
“Ah, I’m not sure. My phone is on the nightstand behind you,” Jake explained. He had some idea—he expected it was probably around eight thirty or nine, but he wasn’t entirely sure. And Rye didn’t move to check. Rye’s hand kept pressing against Jake’s chest, though, and Rye made some other sound of contentment—another hum of sorts—that sounded all too beautiful.
“Do we... still have time to go out onto the beach and see the tide pools?”
For whatever reason, that question made Jake’s heart fill with so much joy. He kissed Rye’s forehead again. “Let me check the time?”
Rye nodded. So Jake pushed himself up onto his elbow and started to reach over Rye for his phone, but he froze when Rye gasped and tensed, his hand pushing away from Jake’s chest as he brought his arms up to cover his head. Immediately, Jake recoiled, shifting himself back and away from Rye.
“Sorry. Ah, I’m sorry, Rye. What happened? Are you okay? Did I... god, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He hated all of those questions, but they came out in a rush, and he couldn’t really stop them. Shaky and unsure, Jake scooted back another couple of inches, frowning.
Rye was almost cowering away from him now, both arms covering his head, with his chin tucked down against his chest. He shook his head, somehow, but Jake didn’t know which of his lunkheaded questions Rye might be responding to.
“Rye, I’m sorry,” he repeated. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I didn’t mean to...” He trailed off, unsure what had even happened.
“N-n-no, n-no, it’s—it’s—it’s . . .”
Jake watched helplessly, his heart breaking, as his boyfriend stuttered and stammered a bit more, unable to say anything of any real substance, still cowering away from him. And he pursed his lips as he replayed the moment. He’d justreached up over Rye. Nothing more. He hadn’t even... he hadn’t even touched Rye.
But, god, Rye’s reaction . . .
“Rye?”
