“Please don’t make me sleep in a truck. I’m old.” Lance took one last stab at convincing Tanner to stay in the room.
But Tanner knew when to surrender. He dropped the takeout bag from the Pizza Palace onto the small table in front of the window and started to pull out their food containers.
“You’re pretty fucking annoying sometimes, do you know that? And damned bossy!” he replied without any real heat.
“Amen!” was Lance’s only response as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Chapter 10
Lance had a very restless night. The stress of the day threw his sleep pattern way out of whack. He was too hot, then too cold. The mattress was too soft. If he was at home, he’d go for a run to wear his ass out to the point of exhaustion. But he wasn’t at home, didn’t know the area, and he didn’t want to wake Tanner. The pilot had passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow—like a toddler in the aftermath of a sugar rush—and Lance refused to disturb him.
He was about to give up on trying to sleep and get up anyway just as Tanner said something. At first, it was just some muttered words in a foreign language. Then, suddenly, he began shouting and thrashing around. When he sat up and banged the back of his head against the headboard, Lance had to intervene.
“No! No! Ahmed! Ahmed!” Tanner screamed, as Lance reached for him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Tanner’s eyes flew open, and he clasped Lance’s forearm, trying to push him away. There were no signs of recognition. Tanner was miles away, completely lost to time and space, staring at Lance like he’d never seen him before.
“Tanner. It’s me. Lance. Hey, you with me, buddy?” he asked, keeping a gentle touch on Tanner’s shoulder.
“Lance,” Tanner finally responded, sighing heavily as his hands went from trying to push him away, to clinging to him instead.
“You were dreaming and got kinda loud,” Lance said.
Tanner released his hold and sat up, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I told you I had nightmares. I should probably go sleep in the damned truck.” He scooted over to the other side of the bed. He looked so small. Sofuckingsmall in thishuge bed, and for some reason, Lance couldn’t bear even this much distance between them.
“Hey, no, come here,” Lance protested, his tone low and soothing.
He hadn’t intended to do a full body hug, but it felt easy—so amazingly—right. Tanner fit in his arms like he belonged there.
“You alright?” he asked, his lips brushing Tanner’s ear.
Tanner took a shaky breath and gave a small nod. With a sigh, he gradually relaxed against Lance’s chest.
“You’d think I’d be used to them by now,” he chuckled with forced humor.
Lance felt an immediate pang of sympathy and silently hugged him closer.
After another minute or two of holding him, Lance figured he’d better ease up on the hugging before it got awkward. He might be enjoying it, but it was definitely more hands-on than most hetero bros would be okay with. With a sigh, he eased back and pulled the covers over them.
“Told you I should have slept in the truck.”
“Stop that,” Lance ordered with a shake of his head. “I’m just sorry you can’t be rid of them.”
It was dark in the room. They’d pulled the blinds closed so the morning sun wouldn’t wake them. The only sources of light were the old-fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table and the nightlight in the bathroom. It was barely enough to make out Tanner’s shape in the dark, but Lance smiled at him anyway. The darkness felt comfortable—creating a kind of safe zone.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you today,” he confessed quietly and sincerely.
“What are you talking about? All I did was play taxi driver and get you a pizza.”
“That’s not all you did for me. I was a fucking sobbing mess before you called. I don’t know that I would have—” he faltered and shook his head. It didn’t matter. The specifics didn’t matter. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say.
“I’m so fucking glad I met you,” Lance finally admitted, his voice breaking at the end. He knew that guys didn’t normally talk to each other like this. Not unless they were falling down drunk with no one else around. They certainly didn’t talk like this while sharing a bed in the middle of the night. He’d drive Tanner away with that kind of talk if he wasn’t careful, but the events of the day had rocked him to his core. They’d forced him to examine his own mortality in a way he never had before. His brother would be fine, he knew that, but what if he hadn’t been? What if all his brother had gotten was 17 fucking years? And then, what of himself? What if Lance died tomorrow, having accomplished nothing important in life? He didn’t have any close friends anymore, having lost touch with them years ago because of spending all his free time with his ex and working on the house. Of course, he had Tanner, now. But for how long? And could he really afford to go any longer without telling the people in his life what they meant to him?
The room was silent for the next few minutes. They were at a tipping point, and Lance didn’t know what Tanner would do—nor exactly what hewantedthe man to do. Knowing Tanner as he did, Lance half expected him to make a joke before pulling away and finding an excuse to change the subject. Hell, maybe he’d say something about needing a shower just so he could get some emotional and physical distance.
Lance prayed hard that Tanner wouldn’t take the easy way out.
A moment later, Tanner released an unsteady breath and, rather than pull away, leaned forward to place a hand on Lance’s forearm before speaking.
