Vann had managed to work all day at the diner without a single issue. Well, other than the constant distraction of wondering if he was finally going to see Drayton for a while tonight. Drayton had a business to run and a life he couldn’t pause just because Vann was now out. He was being selfish, and he knew it. At least Drayton had called him during the day to let him know he was going to fly in tonight.

Finally.

He sat in the living room, trying his best to ignore Frankie and his constant yapping. How the hell Ryan had put up with his shit every night for the last two months was impossible to guess. After only a few nights, he already wanted to shove his boot down the guy’s throat.

He glanced up at the wall clock for the millionth time in the last thirty minutes. The damn thing didn’t seem as if it was moving. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing his leg to stop bouncing. Drayton’s flight was late. Which meant he was cutting it too close to the end of visiting hours.

And fucking Frankie wasn’t shutting the hell up, arguing with the damn television as if the reality show contestants could actually hear him.

Vann shot up from the couch when the doorbell rang. He swung his head around to steal a quick peek at the wall clock.

“I’ll get that,” Julian said, holding out his hand to stop him.

Vann blew out a slow breath through pursed lips, hoping to turn down the jackhammer that had taken residence in his chest. He’d have forty-five precious minutes with Dray. Assuming that was him at the door and not some late-night pizza delivery. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, counting down from ten, needing to calm himself.

He opened his eyes and his breath lodged in his throat.

Drayton held a small overnight bag and stood inches away, those stunning steel gray eyes locked on him.

Julian placed his hand on Drayton’s shoulder, breaking the trance between them. “Drayton, you can leave your bag here.” He looked over to Vann. “You guys can go sit out back. I doubt you’ll be able to get in a word with Frankie’s one-sided debate.”

Vann nodded and turned to walk out the back door, hearing Drayton’s footsteps following close behind.

He took a few more deep breaths, needing to calm the pounding echo in his ears. He missed Dray, his smile, his laugh. Everything.

There was no way he was going to screw this up.

∞ ♥ ∞

Drayton couldn’t silence the buzzing in his ears. His flight had landed, and the moment the plane had touched down, the shaking of his hands had begun and hadn’t stopped. There was no way in hell he’d waste a single minute waiting for the driver to arrive at the airport to pick him up, so he had asked Taylor to drop him off.

He only had forty-five fucking minutes. Stupid airport weather delays and protocols forced him to lose too much time. He hated this crap and felt like a teenager at the junior prom with a damn chaperone and curfew.

He took a seat by Vann on the porch bench, sitting sideways to face him, clasping his hands in his lap, hoping to steady the shake.

Don’t touch him.

“How was your flight?” Vann asked.

“Sucked. Rain delays slowed us from leaving so it took a while. We had some turbulence but we landed. I came straight here.”

Don’t touch him.

“I saw the bag. I noticed you came up the front. You didn’t drive yourself?”

Don’t touch him.

Drayton clenched his hands into fists then opened them, needing to stop the tremble vibrating through his fingers. “Uh, no.”

Don’t touch him.

“Are you okay?” Vann rubbed his hands on his jean-clad thighs.

Those thighs.

Don’t touch him.

They were thicker than before, obviously muscled. He wondered if he’d be able to see the indentations of his muscles and how each rise and dip would feel against his tongue. Everything about the new Vann was thicker. Stronger.

Don’t touch him.

Fuck it. He reached out and grabbed Vann’s hand, finally taking a deep breath as the tension began to ease from his body and the shake in his hands almost instantly vanished.

“How long was that?”

Drayton hadn’t realized his eyes were closed until he opened them. “I missed the question. Sorry.”

“How long was that? A minute?”

His brain was so scrambled he couldn’t follow the conversation. He focused on the balm of calmness that seemed to seep into his body with the touch. Vann had asked a question…hadn’t he? What the heck had he missed? Drayton willed his mind to focus. “I’m not following the conversation. I’m sorry.” He stroked his thumb along Vann’s fingers, seeing the new tiny, almost invisible white scars on his knuckles. His hands were strong, his fingers thick.

He’d missed this. This intimacy. The warmth of Vann’s touch. He couldn’t stand being this close to him without some form of contact.

“It took you a minute before you needed to touch me,” Vann said. “Did you fight with yourself a little before you grabbed my hand?”

“I…” Drayton looked from their clasped hands up to Vann then back again. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me pouncing on you after being apart so long. I’m not sure how you feel about me touching you.” He looked at their joined hands. “When I picked you up, I had to shove my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t touch you.”

Vann quietly chuckled. “I thought it was strange when you did that. You were never shy.” He brushed his thumb along Drayton’s skin. “You always needed to have that contact. You were never able to sit close to me and not touch me in some way.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He tried to release his hold on Vann’s hand, but Vann tightened his grip.

“Don’t ever fucking let go.” Vann placed his free hand on top of their joined hands and blew out a shaky breath. “Being away from you was tough. And it would have been impossible to be a few inches away from you during a visit and not be able to touch you.”

Drayton struggled to breathe through the storm of emotions clamping down on his throat. He couldn’t imagine being this close to Vann and being denied contact.

“I…would have lost it inside,” Vann finished on a whisper. “I wouldn’t have been able to survive as long as I did.”

Drayton released Vann’s hand and reached up, hesitating for a moment before slowly wrapping his fingers around the nape of Vann’s neck and brushing his thumbs along the corded muscles. His chest heaved with each breath he pushed through his lungs as his eyes scanned every tiny detail of Vann’s face, cataloging every millimeter, logging in his memory bank each new scar and wrinkle. I missed you.

Vann reached up and placed his hand over Drayton’s. “I missed you too.”

Damn Vann and his ability to read him like a flashing neon sign. Drayton had never been able to hide anything from the man. Hell, most people couldn’t. Vann had a knack for reading people and figuring out their next move.

Drayton reached up and traced his fingertip along the scar that started at Vann’s temple and cut through his eyebrow, a permanent mark his father had left on Vann’s face during the attack. He had seen the mugshot and had read the report. His father’s large, hideous fraternity ring had sliced through Vann’s skin and left a lasting reminder of their time apart and the pain they had each endured with the separation.

He pulled Vann near and pressed a kiss to his temple over the scar. He took a slow, deep breath, relishing the warmth of Vann’s skin. He brushed his nose against Vann’s cheek then lightly brushed their mouths together, moaning when Vann immediately captured his lips and welcomed him to explore. His eyes slid shut as he enjoyed the taste of the man he’d craved for so many years and still needed as much as his next breath. Fingers brushed against the back of his neck and a firm grip held him in place.

Drayton jerked away from the kiss when a yell echoed from inside the house.

“Fucking Frankie,” Vann growled, pressing their foreheads together.

Drayton took a few deep breaths, hoping to slow his heartbeat to something semi-normal. He imagined being a foot away from Vann, seeing him through a divider that might have been dirty or scratched. He imagined hearing Vann’s voice distorted via those crappy telephone lines he’d seen in movies and on TV. What if the connection had been so bad he couldn’t pick up the tiny changes in his tone that often spoke more than Vann’s words? He knew, without question, the truth of his next words.

“I wouldn’t have made it.” He looked away, hating the weakness stinging his eyes. “I wouldn’t have been able to see you in there. Like that.” Drayton forced himself to make eye contact and gasped a breath when the pain he felt stared back at him.

“I need to know you don’t hate me for keeping you away.” Vann swallowed heavily. “Please.”

The crack in his voice spoke volumes.

Drayton had sensed the pain in Vann’s written words when he had read the notebook entries. But there, in his eyes and the tiny, almost negligible break in his voice, Drayton had the proof Vann had suffered just as much with the separation.

“I could never hate you.”

Vann closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath that skated across Drayton’s cheek. “I promise…I’ll do everything I can to make up for it. I’ll grovel as much as I have to and earn your love back.”

Drayton brushed his nose against the side of Vann’s face. “I never stopped loving you. So you don’t have to earn anything back. We’ll talk tomorrow. Today…I…”

He didn’t know what he wanted. He needed to be close to Vann. To know that he was safe and near him.

Vann slid his arm around Drayton’s waist and rested his head against Drayton’s shoulder. “Tonight, you want this.”

Drayton could put up an iron wall with everyone else and steel his features and emotions. But with Vann, any facade he attempted to put in place always seemed transparent.

“Yeah,” he finally said.

“Me too.”

He pushed his nose into Vann’s hair, enjoying the comforting, familiar scent mixed with a hint of something new he couldn’t wait to discover. He eased into the embrace when strong arms pulled him closer and silently held him tight for the best thirty-seven minutes he’d had in the last ten years.