Page 57 of 72 Hours

“I still feel like that, Tanner.” He looked askance at me, a little wary. “It’s still strong stuff for me.”

“Me too,” I whispered back. I expelled a slow, relaxing breath. It felt like a barrier crumbling in my chest.

He sank back on to his haunches, his body nestling on mine once more. I hadn’t mistaken the stirring between his legs. A trickle of pre-cum dampened my thigh. “It’s been bad without you.”

“Yeah? For me, it’s been shit.” I sounded almost cheerful. “You’re the one who exposed me. I never settled properly here, never got myself any new stuff, never put any effort into bringing old friendships over. I never felt right, here on my own.”

“You never set your music up.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t, did I? That was my self-punishment, I think. This trailer was never meant to be anything but a bolt hole.”

“Despite that, you have friends here. You get along with everyone, Tanner.”

I smiled and rested my hand on his head. “Sure, that’s Tanner MacKay, that’s Mac, the trailer me. Friends with everyone. The only guy I ever had trouble with was you. Still do.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “I hurt you.”

“I’m tougher than you think, maybe. Tougher than you in many things.”

I started to protest, but decided against it. “Enough already. We’re just different.”

He laughed softly against my skin. “I don’t want to be you, Tanner. Old or new. I just want to be with you. I want to do it all again.”

“The sex?”

He rolled his eyes. “That as well, though you’re going to have to find some lube somewhere.”

“In the kitchen,” I said, indecently quickly. “I’ve remembered, I think there’s something in the first aid kit.”

He ran one of his hands over my hip. The pads of his fingers smoothed the muscles in my thigh, the back of his hand nudged my legs apart. “I’ll go fetch it.”

I nodded. Then nodded again, when he didn’t seem to be moving in that direction.

“Though the tension between us isn’t so bad, sometimes. Is it?”

I grinned. “Look, I’ll still provoke....”

“And I’ll still struggle with it. We’re opposites in many ways. But you know how I feel.”

His hand stroked gently, firmly. Yeah, I knew. “We can try again.” I whispered it, half-frightened he’d hear my weakness, half-wishing he would.

He shrugged, but he smiled more broadly, and I felt the shiver that ran through him. “It’s what I want. That partnership.”

To get it right. I arched gently underneath him, like a well-fed cat who could still find some appetite for dessert. “Three days ago I hated your guts, Niall Sutherland.”

“I wasn’t too keen on seeing you again, either. Both liars, right?”

“Hate’s meant to be the flip side of love.” And then it was too late to bite it back.

Niall drew in a sudden, sharp breath. “Is that what it is for you?”

Yeah. “Yeah,” I said aloud, feeling a great sense of relief at admitting it, at making myself so vulnerable, at wallowing in such a pathetic dose of sap. But boldly.

“Good,” he replied. He stood up, letting his fingers trail across the ticklish skin of my sides.

I waited for him to reply—maybe say that it was love for him, too—but he turned and silently walked over to the kitchen. Then I realised I shouldn’t need a reply. Not spoken, anyway. What more did the poor bastard have to do or say to make it clear to me? That’s what it was about. Understanding, without having things spelled out to me. Trust in the other person; the ability to take some things for granted.

“I still say it’s a fucking stupid time to be planning a future with some lunatic about to arrive,” I called out. The ache in my groin didn’t agree, of course.

Niall came back through the kitchen arch, holding a small tube in his hand. “Sure.” He didn’t sound like he wanted to discuss it right now. His eyes were on me as he walked back to the couch. I had the most perfect view of his naked body—of muscles, sinew, skin. Of strong arms, of long legs, of the cutest, thickest, tastiest cock I’d ever had the fortune....