“I have time,” she assured him. It wasn’t the first time she’d said this, but every other time, he’d been recalcitrant, and she’d simply been waiting him out.
Tanner sighed and returned to fidgeting with the fringed pillow.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt this way—” he said, unable to meet her gaze.
“What way specifically?”
“Happy? At peace?”In love, but he didn’t want to go there. Not because he didn’t feel that way, but because that wasn’t the issue. He knew he was falling for Lance—hell, that he’d already fallen for Lance in more ways than one. It didn’t scare him. Everything else did. But not the feelings he had for Lance.
“You’ve been through a lot,” she acknowledged sympathetically while waiting for him to complete his train of thought.
“Right—” he agreed with a nod. He wondered for a moment if he could take it all back and just walk out. He didn’t want to go down this rabbit hole. So maybe—
No. If he walked out of here with these thoughts still whirling around, he’d be a wreck all evening, and he didn’t want to bring his shit home. Not when he didn’t absolutely have to. Wasn’t he dragging enough fucking baggage around with him as it was?
“What if it’s too much pressure? He can’t be responsible for my happiness—for my peace of mind— what if—” Tanner halted as he suddenly choked on the emotions tightening his throat.
Dr. Jones’ smile softened, and she nodded, pleased with his observations and his line of questioning.
“It’s important to find sources of happiness not tied to the wishes or actions of others,” she began, addressing Tanner’s valid concerns. “However—” she paused for a moment, carefully choosing her next words. “While it’s a good thing to have your own life vest and be able to just—float around independently in the water, when someone’s been literally drowning for years—it’s also normal to offer them a raft to rest a little before throwing them back in—does that make sense?”
Tanner thought it over, trying to make connections between his life and that metaphor. He thought he might understand it. Meanwhile, she carried on.
“You were drowning, Tanner. Taking on water and fighting your damnedest not to give in to the currents—but—you weren’t just drowning in a lake, or—or a river—you were lost in the middle of the goddamned ocean during a storm. And by your own strength of character that isquiteextraordinary, you have managed to survive this long. But don’t you think you deserve a little rest? Someone to ease the pressure you’re under for a little while so you can catch your breath?” Dr. Jones asked, and in all the hours he’d spent spilling his guts, it was the first time that he’d ever seen her façade slip, allowing raw emotion to show.
Tanner nodded slowly, understanding gradually dawning on him.
“You’re terrible at metaphors, Doc,” he replied, voice rough with suppressed emotion.
She flipped him off before reaching for the tissue box next to her chair. If she wiped away a stubborn tear of her own, neither of them commented on it.
Chapter 15
Lance woke up as he always did lately, with his man wrapped snugly around him. A few months ago, this position would have elicited nothing but confusion. But now it felt like life’s greatest gift. He sighed with contentment and turned over slowly so he could be face-to-face with Tanner.
Already awake and grinning at him, Tanner looked as if he’d read his mind.
“Morning,” Tanner greeted, inching forward so he could claim a kiss. Lance leaned in, and their lips connected chastely. Tanner’s hand gently massaged his back, as he hummed softly.
“What’s the plan for today?” Lance asked.
“It’s Sunday. It’s illegal to make plans for Sunday.”
“Plans are my love language,” Lance protested while shaking his head. Then he paled, panicking at having used the L word. Tanner burst out laughing.
“Stop!” Lance commanded, but Tanner was too far gone. Apparently, Lance’s fear that Tanner would hear the word love and run away screaming, called for maniacal laughter.
Lance smashed a pillow in his face to shut him up, but Tanner just kept laughing.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Lance announced loudly.
“Oh,babycakes, don’t be like that!” Tanner whined comically, watching his hot man march his very fine ass into the bathroom.
Lance gave him the finger before slamming the door shut.
After a long, steamy shower, Lance walked out in a towel to find the bedroom empty, and the bed made. Tanner was often the first one downstairs, throwing on anything at hand to get to the coffee maker as quickly as possible. But Lance wasn’t oneto rush and liked to take his time getting dressed. Choosing his clothing with care was part of his morning ritual. Once dressed, he headed downstairs, listening to Tanner as he talked on the phone.
“Hmm. Yeah. Okay, no, but the thing is—” he stopped, and as Lance turned the corner to the kitchen, he found him scowling at his mug of coffee. He must have heard Lance’s approach, because he grabbed the other mug of coffee, offering it to him with a distracted smile.
