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The Garden (Lavender Shores Book 2) by Rosalind Abel (11)

Eleven

Gilbert

For a moment I thought Walden was going to turn around and run up the stairs. His flushed skin had gone white, even paler than normal. “Walden, are you okay?”

He shook his head and sucked in several breaths, his chest heaving. He pointed up. He seemed on the edge of a panic attack.

I nodded and took a step away, afraid for whatever I’d done to him. “Yeah, let’s go upstairs.”

He didn’t wait for me to lead, but hurried to the stairway and took the steps two at a time.

Shit. What the fuck had just happened? I’d been so certain this was going to be right up Walden’s alley. I’d figured he’d probably done something similar before, but if he hadn’t, I’d had no doubt he’d love it. Apparently, I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Walden was nowhere to be seen when I got upstairs, though I was only a few paces behind him. Then I noticed the front door was open.

He really had run away.

I rushed outside, but found him waiting on the porch, gripping the railing and staring out at the lake. I shut the door and walked toward him slowly, not wanting to crowd him. I wished I knew him better. Knew if he needed space, if he needed me to touch him, or wanted to talk. I had no idea. I settled for stopping a foot or so away and looked out over the cliff as well. A similar position we’d taken just a few short minutes ago, but now the vibe had changed.

We stood silent for quite a while, and I did my best to keep from glancing over to check on him. I was mostly successful. His breathing slowed, and his shoulders weren’t quite as near his ears as before.

Finally he spoke, his whisper barely more than a rasp. “I’m sorry.”

And though I had no idea why, the guilty tone nearly broke my heart. I did touch him then. Just a quick squeeze of his wrist before letting go. “Walden, you don’t need to be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. I pushed too far. Too quickly. I… I made assumptions about what you’d enjoy. You don’t have to do anything with me that makes you uncomfortable.”

He cast an irritated glance my way.

Wow, I must really seem like a demanding asshole to him. “You really don’t. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that you have to

His laugh was bitter. “You didn’t read me wrong. You didn’t make any mistake at all. It seemed you saw right through me.” He gave a forced smile before turning back to the view. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who….”

I waited for him to finish but realized he wasn’t going to speak again. And maybe he wasn’t irritated with me. If irritated was even the right word. I wished Andrew was there. He was so much better at all the feelings shit. Or Lacy. Both of them always knew what the other person needed. I just knew how to say the wrong things and make it worse.

But I couldn’t just stand there and not saying anything. “So you do like a sling?”

He glared at me, but again, it didn’t really feel directed at me. Though I’d definitely said the wrong thing.

“Sorry. I’m not good at this. I’m not sure what you need right now. I’m not upset with you.” God, that sounded like I thought he was a child. “Do you think I’m upset with you?”

He sighed. Then shook his head and sighed again, his shoulders slumping on the second exhale. “No. But you’re going to think I’m a complete whore. You’ll be glad you didn’t get me in the sling.” He grimaced. “Never mind. You don’t need to know this.”

I waited, his words not making any sense. Finally I spoke again, feeling like I would have to drag every sentence from him. “I realize we don’t know each other very well, but I’m pretty sure you were there in the steam room and when we did other stuff. I’d think it’s pretty obvious I’m more than okay with whorish behavior.”

Walden still didn’t look at me. “Nah. You’re just an exhibitionist who likes sex. That’s nothing.”

A laugh exploded from me before I could stop it. “You’re the first person who has ever tried to one-up me on sex. Even if I’m not into BDSM, I still

“I’m not trying to one-up you. It isn’t a good thing. And what you and I do, have done, isn’t comparable.”

He truly didn’t sound like he was challenging or trying to outdo me. But it was a little irritating, though I managed not to let that emotion seep into my tone. “Like I said, Walden, we don’t know each other well. You have no clue what I have or haven’t done. But I’ll give you a hint; the things I have done have kept me in therapy since I was a teenager.”

He turned a narrow gaze on me. “Fine, you wanna know?”

Suddenly he did sound like he was challenging me, one-upping me. I didn’t need to know, as I was certain whatever he had to say wouldn’t compare. But I let him talk.

He turned so he faced me directly and stood up straight, no longer leaning on the railing. “I went through a rough time a year or so ago. I started going to the bathhouses in San Francisco all the time.”

I couldn’t keep from rolling my eyes. “Sweetie, if I had a nickel for every bathhouse

“At the height of it, I went three nights in a row, and every one of them, I got into a sling, just like the one downstairs, and let every guy who wanted to fuck me….”

Okay, not what I’d pictured, but not that huge of a deal either. I’d had plenty of nights where I didn’t have standards about who I fucked.

I started to say as much when I noticed a tear roll down his cheek. I thought he’d finished, but he was simply trying to make his voice work.

Walden shook his head. “No. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even have said that much.” He refocused on the lake.

What the hell was I supposed to do? So he’d let a bunch of guys fuck him. The vision of that was kinda hot, though it made me want to knock a few heads together at the idea of other men touching him. Which was a strange sensation on its own. And so obviously not the point. Walden wasn’t trying to tell sexy stories or turn me on. He felt shame. I couldn’t understand why. So he had some fun at the bathhouse. Maybe it was his Southern roots. Probably a religious family or some shit.

I drew closer to him, mimicking his position and stared out at the view as I rested my arms on the railing. I tried to keep my tone neutral, unsure how to let him know I didn’t give a shit about such puritanical values while not downplaying his emotions either. “If… ah… you’re worried that I’ll think what you did was a… sin or something. Or too dirty, I’m not gonna think that.”

More tears fell. He wiped at them but didn’t seem able to stop them from coming. He angled his head away from me so I couldn’t even see his profile.

And I’d said the wrong thing. Obviously. Fuck.

He sniffled a couple of times.

It started to feel awkward—okay, maybe not started to feel; it was awkward. The whole thing. Like I was witnessing a breakdown or something.

That was when it clicked. Breakdowns I knew. It didn’t matter the cause. Whether I thought it was big enough to deserve a second thought or not, to Walden, in that moment, it was everything. And, God, I really knew how that felt. And if he was anything like me, I figured I knew what he needed. I kept my gaze fixed on the water, hoping he could tell I wasn’t staring at him. “You don’t need to tell me anything else, but know that I’m right here beside you. You’re not alone.” Sometimes that wasn’t what I’d want either. Most of the time that wouldn’t be what I needed. “Actually, I can give you space too. I’ll be right inside, but if you need me, I’ll be right there. Or… you can go inside and I’ll stay here.” Shit. I should be better at this.

There was another sniffle, but he didn’t answer.

After a moment’s hesitation, I straightened once more, turned, and walked toward the door.

“Wait. Please.”

I paused and glanced back. Walden was looking at me, though not meeting my gaze. Another sniffle. “I’m sorry.”

I stayed where I was, but turned toward him once more. “Walden, dude, you don’t have one damn thing to be sorry about. And you don’t owe me any explanation at all. I’ve had more than my share of breakdowns, and I know that—” Shit! “Not that you’re having a breakdown. I just meant

A wet laugh burst from him, and he gave a combination snort and sniffle. “You’re okay. I’m not offended. And I’m crying on your porch when we’re supposed to be having sex. I’d say that qualifies as a breakdown.”

I took a couple of steps toward him, but stopped short of the railing. “I’m not worried about the sex. I just hate that whatever I did triggered you feeling like this.” It was my turn to laugh. “God, I just said triggered. Just in case you didn’t believe that I’ve spent half my life in fucking therapy.”

He grinned, just a little. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just fucked-up. I’ve fucked up.”

“Well, then, this is the right porch to be on.” That didn’t even make sense, but I thought I noticed him smile again. “Have you ever talked to anyone about any of this?”

He shook his head.

“Well… I can give you my therapist’s number. He’s really good.” I could just hear Donovan’s response to that. “Or he can recommend someone else, considering you and I have slept together and that might be unethical or some shit.”

“I’m so fucked up I need a therapist, huh?”

“Hey!” I gave him a playful shove. Just enough to let him know I was kidding. “I’m the one who keeps talking about therapy. Don’t go throwing around the fucked-up label. Even if it fits.”

This time his laugh was a little more genuine. “Sorry.”

I joined him at the railing once more, nudging him with my shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s true. I’m fucked-up, but I haven’t exactly kept that a secret from you, have I?” Not that there’d been any point to try. He lived in Lavender Shores. He’d find out sooner or later.

“You wanna know?” Walden’s whisper sounded part terrified and part hopeful.

I tried to land on the right answer, but wasn’t sure there was one. “If you want me to know, then sure. But I don’t have to know, Walden. You don’t owe me that. And I for sure haven’t earned it.”

I turned toward him just in time for our gazes to lock. I wanted to look away. The raw hurt I saw in his eyes was way too familiar.

Maybe he saw it in my eyes; who knows? But I could see the second he made up his mind.

He cleared his throat and swiped the back of his hand over his eyes, then let out another long breath. “It was all bareback, Gilbert.” His eyes widened, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just said it out loud, and he turned toward the lake.

I didn’t let one emotion pass over my face, just in case he looked back at me. I was so focused on my reaction I had to process his words to really take in their meaning.

Another exhale, shakier this time. “For three nights in a row, I let any guy fuck me who wanted to, raw. I don’t even know how many. A lot of the time, I didn’t even look at who was doing it.” His gaze met mine again. I blinked.

He winced and dropped his gaze. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Who knew what he saw on my face, or what he thought he saw. I didn’t feel disgusted, just shocked. I hadn’t expected that. But it told me everything I needed to know about Walden Thompson. Told me that I’d judged him wrong. I’d figured he liked to get his freak on like me but that the similarities ended there. So very wrong.

I leaned against the railing, debating. There were few people outside the family whom I ever talked to about any of this. Well, just one person, actually, Donovan. And he was paid to listen. But in this moment, I trusted Walden as much as I trusted Andrew and Lacy. My mom.

Actually, I trusted him more, because not only would he not judge me, he’d actually understand. None of the others really had, even though they’d tried. And he’d confided in me with stuff he hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t take that lightly.

Still, I almost talked myself out of it, but leaped before I could. “I tried to kill myself a couple of times in high school and college.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Walden whip his head toward me, then felt his gaze drilling into me. I couldn’t make myself look at him. The harder admission was next. I couldn’t stop, though. Maybe I owed it to him, or maybe I just wanted him to know.

“Last year, I….” I let out a shaky breath but was nowhere near tears. “I checked into rehab because I felt like trying again.”

Still he stared at me, long enough that I finally looked over.

I could see the question all over his face, asking me why I told him that. I didn’t need him to verbalize. “You didn’t care if you lived or died, right?”

Another tear fell, which highlighted how we were different. I was pretty certain I had no tears left. He nodded. “Right. Yeah, that’s right.” He wiped over his cheeks again. “I, um, got on prophylactics. They weren’t really sure if I’d made it in the seventy-two hour window; well, I didn’t have to cover that first night, but the nurse still thought it was worth trying.”

“Did it work?” I couldn’t keep from asking. “Are you still negative?”

Walden started to answer, but I realized how that sounded, and I had to fix it before he spoke.

I gripped his arm again, this time holding on. “Just to be clear, whatever your answer, it won’t change anything.”

He flinched. “What do you mean it won’t change anything?”

“I’ll still want to be with you.” Shit. That wasn’t at all what I meant. “I’ll still wanna fuck you, if you want. We’ve been safe. We’ll still be safe.” And not the point. I shouldn’t be talking about having sex with him.

Walden stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “How can you…? You’d still have sex with me, knowing what I’ve done?”

I probably shouldn’t, truth be told. After this story, I doubted I’d be able to simply fuck Walden ever again, not without emotions getting in the way. Not now that I couldn’t help but see myself in him. But regardless of the fact that he’d trusted me with everything, I for sure couldn’t let him see all of that. I forced a seductive smile. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I really like talented bottoms.”

To my relief he laughed, though it came out as a partial sob. “You’re fucked-up.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

Walden grew sober again. “I was negative. Whether I wasn’t exposed to HIV or the prophylactics worked, I’m not sure. But….” He sighed, shame washing over his expression again. “I did the exact same thing a few weeks later. Just one night that time, but everything came crashing down, and I did it again. The sling, probably fifteen or twenty guys, I don’t know…. I did the prophylactics again, and I’m still negative. But that kinda sucks too, you know? I deserve it after that. I have friends with HIV who didn’t even do anything like what I did. I should have it, not them.”

I realized I was still holding his wrist, and I pulled him to me and wrapped him in my arms. All pretenses at keeping my guard up crumbled.

He let out a shudder, and a loud sob. The sound was nearly my undoing. I pulled him tighter. I didn’t tell him he was wrong, that he didn’t deserve it. I knew he wouldn’t believe me. I wouldn’t have. So I just held him.

His whisper was muffled in my neck, barely audible with the wetness of his voice. “How can you even look at me, let alone touch me, when I not only did that once but twice?”

I swear my heart was breaking. Shattering even. “I didn’t try to kill myself just once, remember?”

His arms finally wrapped around me as well. I lifted one of my hands and ran my fingers through his hair, stroking the back of his head.

“You really haven’t told anyone that before, have you?” It was clear he hadn’t, but I just couldn’t quite accept that he’d chosen to tell me.

There was a pause, and then he shook his head, his hair brushing my face.

It was almost too much. “Thanks for choosing me, Walden. And I’m glad you’re still here.”

His tears started fresh, but he was still able to speak. “I’m glad you are too.”

I sucked in a breath. Talk about a sucker punch.

I don’t know how long we stood like that. Long enough that Walden’s tremors switched from tears to shivers of cold. I pulled away finally. “How about we go inside and get you some jeans.” The next notion hit, and I spoke before I could give myself a chance to reconsider. “And how about you stay the night again. We’ll make dinner or something. I’ll get you back to the spa before your friends arrive tomorrow.”

He looked as if he was going to protest or ask if I was serious. I was glad he didn’t. He ended up just giving a sad but surprised smile and nodding.

“It’s a gorgeous day. And after this shit show, we need some beauty. So unless you want to learn how to make jewelry, how about we hike along the cliffs for a bit, soak up some of that sun they swear makes depressive people like me into cheerful care bears. We don’t even have to talk.”

He laughed, soft and real. “Okay. Sounds perfect.” Then he sucked in a loud snotty breath and laughed again. “God, I’m a mess.”

There’d been too much seriousness. I’d reached my limit. “There’s not much you could do to turn me off, I’m thinking, Walden Thompson, but I’ll give you fair warning. I’m up for nearly any sexual stuff you wanna do tonight, but I draw the line at snot play; it’s just not going to happen.”

He laughed again and blushed. In reality there truly wasn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do if he asked me to.

We’d only walked a quarter of a mile before his hand slipped into mine, and it scared the shit out of me. As much as I knew I should just enjoy the moment, I couldn’t. “I’m not a relationship guy, Walden. You probably caught that, but I feel like I need to make it clear. I can’t give you what you might want.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t say I wanted a relationship.”

I squeezed his hand, hard enough to make my point clear.

He smiled at me, but it was a friendly one, not full of lust or hidden designs. “Well, you already knew I liked getting fucked by you. But turns out, I care about you too. I probably already did before, but I for sure do now. I trust you. I want to be with you tonight. That doesn’t mean I’m setting my sights on you being my boyfriend or husband or anything. Though I would like to be your friend, whenever you’re in Lavender Shores, if you’re okay with that.”

I’d heard that line from plenty of guys. That they just wanted to be friends, but they couldn’t handle the sex, and they got attached. I’d learned it was best to cut them out. I didn’t think I could do that with Walden, even though he really did scare me to death. I needed to be blunt so neither of us got hurt. “So, then, fuck buddies for tonight and then friends tomorrow? I’ve learned friends with benefits doesn’t work.”

“No, it doesn’t. And I’m not looking for benefits. I wasn’t when I met you. I’ve just gotten caught up in… everything. So, yeah. One more night of sex, and then I’m back on the chastity wagon.”

I grimaced. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve heard.”

He laughed.

I was really starting to love that sound. Like. I was really starting to like that sound. And though I wouldn’t admit it to him, I also liked that he wouldn’t be fucking other guys. I was not going to think about why I liked that fact, however. Wasn’t going to happen.

Walden squeezed my hand this time. “So is this okay for now? We fuck however we want at your place, and we’re friends from there on out.”

“Got it. Smart.” My next question wasn’t smart, nor was it any of my business. “Why don’t you want a boyfriend?”

He narrowed his eyes.

I lifted my free hand in promise. “I’m just curious, I swear, I’m not laying plans for a future relationship or any of that sick shit.”

“Okay.” When he smiled, it was a bit sad again, and I regretted asking. “It’s actually why I was in a dark place, and… well, you already know that part of that story.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“No.” His smile changed a bit. “Actually, telling you sounds nice, now that you know the rest. And as horrid as it was, it’s a quick story, which makes it all that much worse. Something so painful shouldn’t be so simple.”

Walden fell silent, obviously looking for where to start. We kept walking, the forest of trees on our right, the lake and the rest of the mountain range on our left.

“I was engaged.”

I flinched. Another thing I hadn’t expected.

“Yeah. Engaged. To a man named Levi Mason. We were together for two years, and we were about to get married two months before we split.” He swallowed, and his hand slipped from mine, but we kept walking. “Turns out, his name was actually Levi Teller, and he was married to a woman, and they had two little girls. She showed up on my doorstep.” He laughed again, but I hated the sound of this one. “It also turns out Rachel was really sweet. She was even apologetic. She said he’d done this once before, though it had been with a woman the other time.” He glanced at me. “That’s why I don’t want a boyfriend or a relationship. I don’t think I’ll ever want one or could trust one again. And I don’t want to admit this, but you know everything else, so why the fuck not? Though I’m nearly as ashamed of this as of the things I did after.” He looked away, out over the water. “I still love him. Or at least the him I thought I knew. I’ll never take him back, ever. But that doesn’t change how I feel. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone else. Not when I still love that fucking asshole.” Once more his gaze sought mine. “I hate him, Gilbert. I do. I didn’t know how much I could hate someone. But I love him too, at least I think I do.”

The next several hours were the easiest and most relaxing I’d had in years. At least with anyone besides Andrew and Lacy. Hell, it was even more relaxing than most occasions when I was by myself. Despite the heavy waters we’d waded into, my brain shut off, all the voices and warnings and shit shut up. We walked through the forest, explored the shoreline, and simply wandered around. Most of the time, we didn’t speak much, but when we did, it amounted to nothing at all. It was lovely. As was holding Walden’s hand. Despite all the sex I’d had, handholding hadn’t been a commonplace activity for me. I liked it much more than was comfortable.

We drove into town and picked up a frozen pizza and ice cream. When we returned to my house, Walden put the ice cream in the freezer and shocked the shit out of me. “Can we try the sling again?”

For a second I wondered if it was some sort of test, but that didn’t seem like Walden’s style, and I was beginning to trust that I understood him by that point. “Sure. If that’s something you want. Please know that I don’t expect

“I know that.” He cut me off, took the pizza box out of my hands, and put it in the freezer as well. “How about I hop into the shower and you get downstairs ready? I’ll meet you there?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

There wasn’t much to get ready. Setting out the lube, condoms, and getting a couple different sizes of dildos. I had some other toys that did border on the BDSM spectrum but didn’t feel right pulling them out, given we were already pushing things. I’d save them for later.

Disappointment cut through me at that thought. There wouldn’t be a later. We’d have this time in the sling, and then maybe something before bed or in the morning, but maybe not even those. This was it. Then Walden would complete the metamorphosis from hookup, to friend with benefits, to friend. Keeping him in my life eased my ache a little, though it still scared me that he was becoming important to me. There were very few people like that. But the thought of not getting him naked again?

No. No more thoughts of that. I couldn’t mourn that loss while I had him naked. I needed to enjoy every minute.

I quit stewing as he padded down the stairs. And my mind completely shut off as he rounded the corner, his nervous grin the only thing he was wearing. He was already mostly hard, and his fair skin was lightly pink, probably from the heat of the shower. The dampness caused his hair to be more curly than wavy, and it hung nearly to his shoulders. He’d left his glasses upstairs as well, though that surprisingly disappointed me a bit. He was so tall, and thick, and completely delicious-looking. “Walden Thompson, you are one sexy motherfucker.”

He laughed, blushed, but didn’t argue. Though it was clear he wasn’t comfortable with the compliment, it seemed to please him. He pointed to the sling. “Want me to just get in?”

To my shame and confusion, I didn’t. I wanted to kiss him. To feel his arms around me. I could have any man in a sling. I couldn’t have Walden’s lips or his embrace. “That’s up to you. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

He studied the sling for a bit, obviously considering backing out. He walked over to it, and his cock stood straighter. He’d made his decision, and I couldn’t help but be disappointed. “Yeah, I just want to get in there. Not saying to rush through it, but maybe it’s better to just pull the Band-Aid off.”

“Okay.” I started to remove my shirt, then paused. “How do you want me? Do you have a thing for getting fucked while someone has clothes on, or do you want me naked?” If we were doing this, with all his issues around it, I wanted it to be as fantasy perfect as I could make it.

“I like the clothes.” Clear disappointment crossed his features. “Actually, though, since things change after tonight, I want you naked. I want to feel you. See your gorgeous body.” His smile returned, and I saw the instant that dirty side of him began to take over. “Please.”

I loved that he knew what that word did to me, and that he used it like he did. “Yes, sir.”

As I stripped, Walden positioned himself in the sling, getting the leather straps to comfortable positions under his back.

I was hard as a rock as I closed the distance and stood next to the sling. I held up the dildos. “We’ve got options.” I waggled the bigger one.

His grin completed its transition. “Surprise me. I can handle either.”

I laughed. “Oh, I wasn’t worried about that. I have met your ass before, remember?” A flicker of what looked like shame clouded his expression, and I regretted my words. I reached out and grabbed his dick, then gave a sharp pull. “That’s a good thing, remember? Who wants a bottom that can’t take everything his top wants to give.”

His brows popped upward, and I realized what I’d just implied.

Whatever. I wasn’t taking it back. For tonight, at least, I was his top. Totally and completely his. Walden looked so beautiful, his muscled body seeming almost too big for the sling. The flush of his cheeks, the pure edibleness of his body, the trail of precome announcing his arousal. He was wonderland waiting to be taken.

I dropped the dildos to the ground where I could reach them easily, let go of his dick, and ran my hands up the back of his thighs, lifting his legs as I did so. “Let’s get you into these stirrups. I’m gonna need some room.”

He let out a panicked breath after I got the first one situated.

“Remember, we can change directions anytime. We can do as much or as little as you want. We can go back to the bed or to the counter or to the edge of the cliff, for all I care.”

He nodded.

“And if you tell me to switch from the dildos to my cock, believe that I’ll have a condom on. You’ll be safe.”

He nodded again and seemed to relax some. “I know. I trust you.” That wicked smile began to return.

And suddenly I was glad he’d chosen this way, even if he decided to stay with the dildos and not let me inside him. It was clear how much it cost him to be back in a sling, how much he meant that he wanted to do this with me. I was both humbled and more turned on by that trust than any other moment in my life. The only shadow over it was that I hadn’t earned his trust. Not really. I knew his story. He didn’t know mine. I shut down that train of thought as I fixed his other foot in the stirrup. This was about him. Not me. And I wasn’t going to let one of my goddamn issues spoil a single second of Walden’s pleasure.