To Blake’s surprise, he bent down and pecked him on the lips. Just the lightest brush of contact, but enough to make Blake’s heart skip.
“I can’t believe you kissed me when I’m all gross,” Blake said, trying to deflect how much it meant to him.
Simple affection had been hard to come by for a while. It was nice to have it, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.
“You looked like you could use it,” Rusty said. “Now go. I’ll be back by the time you’re out of the shower.”
Blake stood, taking Rusty’s hand and squeezing it on the way past. “You’re a good husband,” he murmured.
“I know,” Rusty enthused, grinning like the oversized, enthusiastic puppy he was.
Blake rolled his eyes, but headed inside and up the stairs to get into the shower like Rusty had told him. If nothing else, it’d get any pollen out of his hair and off his skin.
He’d need to change his clothes, probably. There’d be pollen all over them, too.
It was just as well it was a late wedding, or he would have ended up missing it.
The warm spray of the shower instantly helped with his headache, clean water soothing his red, puffy eyes as soon as it started running down over his head.
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve Rusty’s surprising kindness—he wasn’tthatgood in bed—but it was nice to have it, all the same.
Rusty was nice to be around. Whenever Blake remembered that he was going home after the wedding, his stomach knotted up.
It was stupid. Stupid to be so attached to someone he’d known for so little time. And yet.
He’d known Rusty was trouble the first time he’d sat down next to Blake on a tour bus and told him he’d have to translate for him. All charming smile and cocky posture, clearly aware of how attractive he was.
They’d spent the whole day trip to Death Valley talking, the sprawling planes forever linked in Blake’s mind to Rusty’s smile, the low rumble of his voice. They’d hung out together by the bar when they got back, taken a midnight stroll to see the sights.
And then Rusty had kissed him under the bright neon lights of a marquee, and Blake’s heart had nearly exploded.
But the best part? The best part had been when Rusty had bid him good night, and they’d gone their separate ways that evening. He’d never pushed.
All he’d done was tell Blake where he was staying if he wanted to follow it up. Simple as that.
Blake had never been more desperate for a second date in his entire life. He’d turned up at eight o’clock the next morning to catch Rusty at breakfast, and hadn’t left his side until he watched him get into a cab to go to the airport three days later.
Somewhere in the haze of their whirlwind vacation romance, they’d gotten married. It hadn’t seemed serious at the time, but ithadseemed sweet.
Blake had never quite stopped thinking about him. No matter how many times he told himself that Rusty was gone, that it’d been fun for a little while, but it would never have lasted, Rusty kept popping back into his head.
He’d set Blake’s standard for men, and none of them had quite met it.
No one else had ever looked after him when he was sick. Not even long-term boyfriends. They just told him to get well soon and call them when he felt better.
Rusty had come to his aid without even being asked.
That meant a lot.
It was a shame he couldn’t keep Rusty. Memories were nice, but having a second taste of what it was like to be with him—reallywith him—made Blake’s heart hurt at the thought that he was leaving soon.
He wasn’t sure he could handle waving goodbye again, even though he knew he had to.
Blake sighed, shutting off the shower and wiping his face with a clean towel. He looked a little better, but he was still red and puffy around the eyes, his cheeks visibly swollen from the way his sinuses were irritated.
And Rusty had kissed him anyway.
How the hell was he supposed to say goodbye to a man like that?
