Page 12 of Toren

Anytime, brother.

Andrew’s heart twisted a little at the easy way the familial reference came from Finn’s fingers, but he remembered offering it back to his brother with the same ease the last time around. At the end of the day, he knew Finn was right. He didn’t even need his brother’s confirmation to know prolonging things with Dave was a mistake.

He dialed Dave’s phone number, only to get sent to voicemail on the third ring. He called back a second time, and it went straight to voicemail that time, so he sent a text.

We should talk. Call me when you have a minute.

Andrew debated getting dressed and driving back over to Dave’s house, but he decided a phone call would be fine. They’d only been back together for a few months; they hadn’t moved anything into each other’s houses. The break would be clean as long as he was the one to do the severing.

With a grumbled curse, Andrew got dressed and headed for the spare bedroom in his house. He’d bought an old bungalow in Mission Beach shortly after he’d gotten his first job out of college and it was the best money he’d ever spent. Living by the beach was costly, but he could walk there with his surfboard, and the small square footage meant the space was completely and entirely his.

Instead of turning the second bedroom into a guest room, he’d made it into an art room. A foolish endeavor considering how bad he was at painting, especially compared to the amazing art Merrick Shannon had on display at the show over the weekend, but he wasn’t horrible. And more than that, art gave him a break, a place for his mind to quiet down a little.

It was back in the favorite room of his house that he returned to Toren’s text message, the open-ended question still hanging in the air between them. It would cost him nothing to tell Toren no, to say maybe next weekend instead. It would give him time to talk with Dave and end things for good.

The problem was Andrew didn’t want to cancel his plans with Toren. He didn’t want Dave to stand in the way of him pursuing people. That had never been part of the deal, and it was unfair of Dave to change the rules in the middle of the game. It was worse of him to have agreed to it.

He tried calling Dave again.

Straight to voicemail.

He hung up and frowned at the window, phone still held in his hand, and he answered Toren with the worst possible message he could have sent.

Absolutely, yes.

CHAPTER 5

Toren

Lunch with Riggs was uneventful. The worst part of the day was halfway through their meal when he realized he was growing rather fond of Smith Covington, and he was finally starting to understand what Riggs saw in him. It was harsh for him to compare Smith to Ev, but it was also unavoidable. Toren was sure Riggs had done the same thing, at least at the beginning. But it was impossible to see the two of them together and not also see the love between them. Riggs had told him Smith was responsible for bringing him back to life, and Toren believed it.

He told them both goodbye and headed home with excitement racing through his veins at the promise of seeing Andrew later that night. It felt easy for them to have two nights in a row together, but Toren wasn’t about to complain about it. Their Saturday night had been some of the hottest sex Toren had ever had, not just recently but in his entire life, and to say he was eager for a repeat would have been an understatement. So when Andrew left him on read for nearly an hour before replying with a single word of confirmation about their plans, Toren wasn’t sure how to feel.

He didn’t have an option besides taking Andrew at his word, so he dropped his cell phone into the empty cupholder and headed south on the 5. By the time he got home, his nerves had gotten the better of him, and he sent Andrew another message.

Are you sure?

The response came much quicker than the last time.

Very. Are you?

Also very.

I can’t wait.

Toren shivered and put any doubts about Andrew’s sincerity out of his head. He showered, prepped himself in ways he hadn’t had to even think about in years, and by the time he was dressed and ready, it was time to go. The drive to Andrew’s house was quick, but there was no parking out front. Toren parked around the corner and walked back, letting the steps steady his heart and calm his breathing. He lit a cigarette on the way, stopping at the end of the block to smoke the rest of it before finishing the walk to Andrew’s house.

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

This could have been a one-time thing. Maybe it should have been. He was grateful to have Riggs back in his life and making a disaster of things with Smith’s brother would probably not be a great choice, but then Andrew opened the door and smiled, and Toren forgot everything else.

“How has it only been eight hours?” Andrew asked, taking Toren’s face into his hands and dragging him over the threshold. “Please tell me I can kiss you.”

“I think that’s the point,” he said, and then Andrew shut him up with a punishing slant of his mouth and a fierce sweep of his tongue.

Toren stumbled into the house and kicked the door closed behind him, not protesting as Andrew navigated him down a hallway and into a bedroom. Everything was a blur after that. A whisper of conversations they should have had fully dressed happened between breaths and the stripping of clothes. And then he was naked on his back, Andrew between his legs with lube-slick fingers pressing into his hole and stretching him open.

“How are you so fucking tight?” Andrew murmured against Toren’s neck, and Toren knew it was rhetorical.