Chapter Fifteen

IT WAS dreamlike, maybe because Ben really should have been in bed and actually dreaming. But he hadn’t been able to sleep, so he’d bundled up, gotten himself a glass of scotch, and gone out on the porch to watch the spring rain.

And to wait.

Yeah, it had really felt like he was waiting.

Like he’d somehow known Liam was on his way, and maybe even known Liam would pull back, would stop himself from coming all the way up on the porch and knocking on the door. Maybe Ben had known Liam wouldn’t make the final move without encouragement.

And of course Ben shouldn’t give that encouragement. He knew better. But he’d used up all his powers of resistance, and now? Now it was just fate. Inevitable.

He stood up slowly, still dreamily, and waited at the top of the porch steps. Liam approached with caution, came halfway up the stairs, and said, “It’s okay that I’m here?”

Ben reached for him, brought his hand to Liam’s cheek, and curled his fingers just enough to draw Liam up the rest of the way onto the porch. He ghosted his thumb over the scratch from the raspberry bushes, just a ghostly line now, and the freckles across the tops of Liam’s cheeks that hadn’t been there at the start of the weekend. They shifted in under the roof, eyes locked on each other, and somehow it was okay that Liam was there. Where else would he be?

Their kiss felt just as natural, just as predestined, as all the rest of it. No urgency, just want that turned to need, rain dripping off Liam’s forehead onto Ben’s overheated skin, cold fingers finding warm ones and interlacing.

Liam pulled away. Not far, and clearly he had to make an effort to do it, but why the hell was he bothering? He licked his lips and said, “Scotch. How much have you had?”

“I’m not drunk.” Ben tugged at Liam’s hand. “Come inside.”

“Are you sure?”

Ben just tugged again, and this time Liam let himself be moved, guided, through the front door and down the short hallway to Ben’s bedroom.

Liam’s shirt was wet, and when Ben slid his hands under the hem and up over Liam’s abs, everything was chilly. He kept going, rucking the shirt up and over Liam’s head, exposing glorious skin as he went. Ben bent his head to nip, to kiss, to taste, and he felt the shudder run through Liam’s body.

“Is this okay?” Liam asked again.

No, it wasn’t. It was either wonderful or terrible or somehow both at once, but it was definitely something extreme, something a lifetime away from “okay,” in one direction or another. If they stopped to talk about this, if Ben stopped to think about this, it would all be too real, and being with Liam wasn’t something Ben could afford to want, in reality.

So instead of answering the question with words, Ben raised his lips to Liam’s and kissed him, long and deep, and Liam stopped asking unanswerable questions.

There were no more hesitations after that. Ben pulled his own shirt off, and they had skin on skin. Ben fumbled with the fly of Liam’s jeans, trying to somehow give his hands space to work without breaking the contact between their chests, their bellies. He needed more, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept the tiny bit of less that would allow the more to happen.

Until Liam took charge. He shuffled them toward the bed, and when they got there he just kept pressing, easing Ben back so he was sitting on the mattress, freeing up his legs to wrap around Liam’s ass and pull him in closer. They surged together, hardness meeting hardness, and even through layers of clothing Ben could feel the heat. A rhythm, then, waves flowing from one body to another, like when they’d been kids, too shy to take their clothes off and too desperate to stay still.

Well, Ben wasn’t shy anymore, or at least this night he wasn’t. He put a hand on Liam’s chest—skin so warm and smooth, so soft over the hard muscles beneath—and pushed him away. Just a little. Kept him within the warm circle of Ben’s legs, but made room for getting his jeans undone. Liam, bless him, took care of the rest, shimmying out of the rain-damp denim and tugging his boxer briefs down at the same time.

He stumbled, almost fell, and laughed breathlessly. “Shit. Gotta get my shoes off.”

Ben should have laughed in return, should have said something kind, but he didn’t want this to be comfortable. He couldn’t let himself think it was something he was going to get used to. He waited silently as Liam dealt with his clothes, then moved fast, kicking one of his own bare feet up to brace against Liam’s chest and hold him away for a moment.

If this was going to be the only time—the last time—he saw Liam like this, he wanted to be sure he had time to appreciate the view.

Liam was still for a breath or two, then slid his hands up Ben’s legs, inside his sweatpants. He got a good grip on the fabric and tugged, and Ben lifted his ass and helped with his hands, and the pants were off and they were naked together. Perfectly, terrifyingly naked.

Liam fell forward, wedged a knee between Ben’s, braced his elbows on either side of Ben’s face, and they kissed. If the sensations had been intense before, when they were half-dressed, they were almost unbearable now. Every inch of Ben’s body was electrified, magnetized, needing and wanting and straining. His breath came in gasps and moans that would have been mortifying if he hadn’t heard their echoes in Liam’s mouth.

It would be too easy to come just like this, but Ben wanted more. “Fuck me,” he gasped, and Liam moaned in return, then rolled them, shifted them, got them close enough to the bedside table that he could reach it and fumble in the drawer without taking his lips away from Ben’s body.

Ben let himself float. Not away—he wanted to be absolutely present for every moment of this. But he didn’t need to be in control. For this one night, he could let go and just feel, just be. He could trust. The stretch, the pressure, the fullness, the friction. The perfection, with Liam hovering above him, skin flushed and eyes intense, whole body tensing and relaxing in time with his thrusts. And Ben’s own body responding without any thought or effort, rising to meet the pleasure, then letting him fall away before inevitably rising again.

Ben could feel his orgasm building and tried to push it away. He didn’t want to come; he just wanted to stay like this, with Liam like this, forever.

His body had different ideas, though, and it seemed like Liam’s did too. They moved together, both of them caught up in the same primitive, desperate dance, and they came together, shuddering their mutual release.

A moment of frozen time, or maybe layered time, as if this was them as they were but also them as they’d been so many times before. Them as they always should—but Ben got control of himself before that traitorous thought was able to leave his subconscious.

It had only been now, and it could only be now, and he damn well needed to remember that.

“You okay?” Liam asked, shifting himself only halfway off Ben’s body so their legs were still entwined, their torsos still connected.

Again, the word was wrong, so Ben just smiled and let his fingers play through Liam’s hair, now damp with sweat as well as rain. It was only now, so he had to savor it all.

They were quiet for a while, both of them awake, Ben staring at the ceiling, Liam—well. Liam staring at Ben, it seemed. Eventually Liam said, “Do you ever hear from your parents?”

It took Ben a while to shift his train of thought to the new topic. “Sometimes. My dad called a couple years ago—wanted money. My mom’s doing a bit better, I think. She was out in Colorado last I heard.”

“Is it different, now? You’re an adult. You don’t need them anymore, right?”

“I never needed them. If Uncle Calvin hadn’t stepped in, I would have been in trouble, but getting to move in with him? He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s ten times the parent either of them ever was.”

Liam kissed Ben’s shoulder. A simple gesture, not one that should have made Ben want to cry, or to push himself out of bed and run away.

They were quiet again for a while. Eventually Liam shifted over so he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling along with Ben, and said, “My parents are getting a divorce.”

On one level it was shocking news. Liam’s parents had always seemed absolutely, placidly content with each other. But Ben hadn’t had any contact with them for fifteen years, so that was lots of time for things to change. And really, hearing Liam say it made a lot of other things make sense.

Like what the hell Liam had been doing in North Falls over the past couple weeks. “That must be really unsettling,” Ben said carefully. It must have made Liam question a lot of things, trying to track them back and see where they’d gone wrong. Maybe coming to North Falls had been his attempt—or part of his attempt—to understand his parents.

Sex with Ben? Well, a little comfort, a little distraction, falling into an old habit—no need for there to be only one reason for it, obviously.

And no need for Ben to spend too much time reviewing his own motivations either.

“I think it’ll be okay,” Liam said, and it took Ben a moment to realize they were still talking about Liam’s parents. “I mean, it’s not really my business, is it? And they seem fine with it.”

“That’s good.” Ben probably should have had something more profound to say, but he didn’t.

“Yeah. And there’s—there’s stuff at work that I kind of wanted to talk to you about, but I’m tired, and you have to get up tomorrow morning, and God knows I have to get up tomorrow morning—I need to be back in the city first thing.”

Okay, Ben could do this. He could be practical and helpful, the cool and mature one-night stand. “Do you have an alarm on your phone? You could set it for a few hours from now—enough time for you to have a little snooze, but still good to get back to the city.”

“You don’t mind?”

Ben wondered what would happen if he said yeah, he did mind. Nothing good, he was sure—not that Liam would be a total jerk, but it would make things awkward. And there was no need for that. “No problem,” he said, and he leaned off the side of the bed and found Liam’s jeans, with his phone in the pocket.

“Thanks,” Liam said as he took the phone. “This—I’m not sure what we just did. I mean, I’m not sure what it means.”

It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t. But Ben just said, “Shhh. You’re thinking too much. Set your alarm and go to sleep.”

And Liam did as he was told, snuggling in against Ben like a tired puppy.

Ben, on the other hand, stayed awake, staring at the damn ceiling, until Liam’s alarm went off and the brief, peaceful daze came to an end. They were both awake now. Both back to reality.