“I have to get going; I’m supposed to meet Mason this morning, and I’m already late,” I insist as Hendrix tries to pull me back into bed for the second time. The first time I didn’t bother to resist since I was just as interested in a little bit of morning fun as he was. But now that we’ve both come and I’ve had a few hits of weed, I’m seriously behind schedule.

“Just one more blowjob,” Hendrix tries to tempt me, trailing his hot lips over the back of my neck as I sit up and swing my feet onto the cool floor.  

I stand and grab a pair of jeans off the floor. And when I bend over to pull them on, I feel a quick slap against my left ass cheek.

“Hey!” I protest, standing up quickly and whirling to face Hendrix with only one pant leg on.

My man smirks at me with a playful glint in his eyes, and my stomach somersaults, and my heart trips. I love you. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they can’t make it past my lips.

Everyone leaves, one way or another, everyone leaves, the malicious voice in the back of my mind whispers.

“Come back to bed,” Hendrix says in a husky, sleep rough voice.

A shiver runs down my spine, and I’m sorely tempted to drop the damn pants and crawl back between the sheets with him. My phone vibrates on the dresser, reminding me that Mason is waiting for me.

“Babe, I’m unbelievably late.”

I resume getting dressed so I can get out the door, and a slow smile creeps over his lips.

“You called me babe.”

“Oh, sorry, is that weird?” I ask, pausing my effort to pull my pants on to examine his expression more closely. “I’ve never used a pet name, did that not work?”

“No, I liked it.”

I reach for the closest shirt, and it’s not until I’m pulling it on that I realize it’s Hendrix’s shirt, not mine.

“Oh, sorry.” I start to remove it, but Hendrix calls out to stop me.

“Wear it.”

I swallow around a lump in my throat and nod. I lean over the bed and press my lips quickly to Hendrix’s and pull back before he can grab me and convince me to stay home.

“Lock up when you leave and text me later,” I call over my shoulder as I jog out the door.

I run the mile across campus to the student union.

“Sorry I’m late,” I apologize to Mason when I skid to a stop in front of him.

Mason looks up from his laptop looking mildly annoyed and slightly amused as he takes in my disheveled appearance. “I take it things went well with Rebel?”

I slide into the chair across from Mason and pull out my laptop, not bothering to hide my smile.

“We’re dating, I guess?” I roll the word boyfriend around on my tongue, but it feels weird to say to someone other than Hendrix.

“Nice.” Mason nods. “So, our game is finished; are you ready to talk marketing?”

I smile at Mason’s awkward non-sequitur and quickly switch my mental settings from gossip to work.

It turns out Mason has done his research. He emails me a bulleted list with several articles attached that explain why the plan he’s outlined is likely to be successful if properly executed.

“When did you have time to find all this?”

Mason shrugs and pushes his glasses up his nose. “I like to research stuff.”

His tone is apologetic, like he expects I’m going to tease him. The ex of his must’ve really done a number on his self-esteem.

“That’s really cool and extremely helpful. Thank you.”

After a few hours, Mason and I have a solid plan in place to get ready for the launch of our game.

“I can’t believe how well this is coming together.” I shake my head and smile. There’s a weightlessness in my chest. This might really work out.

“I don’t want to count any chickens, but I have a good feeling about this.”

“What do you say we have the guys meet us for lunch to celebrate?” I suggest.

Mason blushes and chews on his thumbnail. “Um...yeah, sure.”

I pull out my phone and dial Hendrix.

“Hey, sexy,” he answers. I can hear the sound of moans in the background, and I smile. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over how cool it is that Hendrix is in the porn business.

“Hey, I don’t know what your day looks like, but Mason and I were thinking it’d be cool to meet you and Heart for lunch.”

“Oh, shoot, lunch won’t work, but why don’t you and Mason swing by my place this evening? I was going to have all the guys over and order pizza.”

“Cool, see you then.”

* * *

Mason and I show up at Hendrix’s place around seven. Mason looks like a nervous cat looking for somewhere to hide when we step into the living room filled with half a dozen gorgeous men.

“Hey, baby,” Hendrix presses a quick kiss to my lips, and I can feel every set of eyes in the room on us.

“So, boyfriends finally, huh?” Pixie asks with a smile, his eyes flicking between the two of us.

“Uh...um...ah,” I stammer.

Hendrix and I talked about it and agreed we are exclusive, and we are serious. That equals boyfriends, I get that. So why is it so damn awkward to say that out loud?

“What Troy is trying to say is ‘why yes, we are dating exclusively, which many would call boyfriends. I am uncomfortable with the term myself, but am so lucky I have a sexy man like Rebel to call my own’,” he supplies, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah, what he said,” I mumble, hoping I don’t look as stupid as I feel right now.

“Come help me grab drinks for everybody?”

I follow Hendrix to his kitchen where he pushes me up against a counter and kisses me hard and dirty. My fingers curl into his hair, plastering him against me.

“I’m sorry if Pixie made you uncomfortable, or if I was off base with my response,” he says when we come up for air.

“It’s fine. I’m just getting used to the whole thing.”

“Take all the time you need to adjust, just don’t push me away,” Hendrix tells me sternly, and I nod in agreement.

With one more quick kiss, he steps back and turns to the fridge to start handing me a few beers to take out to the living room.

Back with the group, Mason has made himself comfortable on the couch between Heart and Pixie, playing a videogame. Brewer and Campy are deep in a conversation about disease processes, of all things, and Bear is off to the side, stealing glances at Pixie that I’m sure he hopes no one notices.

“No Tank tonight?” I ask as I pass out the drinks I brought in.

“That antisocial asshole thinks he’s too good to hang out with us,” Brewer tells me. “Or I guess I should say, he thinks he’s too good to hang out with me, because if I wasn’t here, I guarantee he would be,” Brewer explains with an edge to his tone.

“What’s his issue with you?”

“He’s a dickhead?” Brewer guesses. “I don’t fucking know. He took one look at me and hated me on sight. Fuck him, I don’t care.”

Something about the way Brewer says it makes me think he does care, at least a little. But I’m not going to get in the middle of something I don’t know anything about.

After the pizza arrives, we end up eating over a game of Cards Against Humanity and laughing until Pixie almost chokes on a bite of crust. Bear rubs and pats Pixie’s back protectively afterward in a way that makes me wonder if something is going on there. Who knew hanging out with porn stars would be like a soap opera?

It isn’t until midnight that everyone starts to leave, and I help Hendrix clean up.

“You’ll stay the night, right?”

I hesitate for a second, out of habit more than anything, before I agree. And then we both strip down and fall into bed together in a tangle of limbs and a chorus of whimpers and moans.

* * *

I startle awake with the feeling of a body lying half on top of me, and I scramble out from under it with my heart pounding against my ribcage.

“Don’t go,” Hendrix complains in a sleepy slur.

Some of my tension eases at the sound of his voice, but my pulse is still hammering, making it impossible for me to just lay back down. I ease out of bed and head toward the kitchen for a drink of water. Glass in hand, I walk over to the kitchen window and gaze out into the dark night, sipping my water and counting my heartbeats so I have something to focus on. I wish I was home so I could just pack a bowl to get back to sleep.

“Something wrong?”

Hendrix’s voice startles me. “No, I always lurk naked in the dark kitchen in the middle of the night.”

“Uh-huh,” Hendrix says with a cocked eyebrow. His hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and he’s got sleep lines on his left cheek.

I turn back to the window and sip my water. Hendrix’s strong arms wrap around me from behind, and his lips find my shoulder and then the side of my neck.

“Talk to me, baby,” he asks, nuzzling his nose against the back of my neck.

I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves to admit something to Hendrix that I never thought I’d talk about with anyone. I didn’t think I’d ever need to explain it to anyone, because I didn’t anticipate ever having a man in my life I would choose to share a bed with on a regular basis. But I want to share a bed with Hendrix, which means he needs to understand why it’s a struggle for me.

“I’m not good at sharing a bed, because growing up in the system, bouncing around to different houses with kids and foster parents I didn’t know, my biggest fear was that I’d wake up with someone else in my bed, if you catch my drift.”

Hendrix’s arms tense around me, and his breath puffs between my shoulder blades, his forehead against the back of my neck. “Did anyone…?” he asks after a few seconds.

“No. There was one guy who was a little handsy but nothing more serious than some unwanted hugs or tickling. I heard stories, though, from other kids, and it’s one of those unspoken things everyone knows you’re supposed to look out for. So, when I wake up and I’m not alone in bed, sometimes I forget that I’m not a helpless thirteen-year-old in a foster home.”

“I’m so sorry. I know I’m a pretty clingy sleeper; do you want me to try to give you more space? I could buy a bigger bed. I’ll do anything to make sure I don’t scare you when you’re sleeping.”

My throat tightens at the naked vulnerability in Hendrix’s tone. I know he’ll truly do anything to make sure I’m happy and comfortable.

“I fucking love you,” I blurt, and as soon as the words are out, a relieved laugh follows them. That wasn’t so hard.

Hendrix stills against me and is silent long enough I start to get nervous. But then his strong hands are on my hips, spinning me to face him. He takes the water from my hand, sets it on the counter, and then he grabs my face.

“I fucking love you back, banana boy.”

Our mouths clash in a flurry of lips and tongues.

“Let’s go back to bed,” I suggest when Hendrix’s hard cock presses against mine.

“Okay, but I have to warn you, I’m not going to fuck you; I’m going to make sweet love to you.”

“Gross,” I laugh and shove Hendrix’s shoulder. “Race you,” I suggest and then bolt toward the bedroom before he can respond.

Hendrix tackles me onto the bed, and we fall in a laughing, groping heap.

“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” Hendrix whispers against my lips as our laughter fades.

“Thank you for giving me time to come around to the idea of someone being a stable presence in my life.”

“I’ll always give you anything you need as long as you don’t run away.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Hendrix’s arms tighten around me, and he pulls me against his chest. I take a deep breath, pulling his essence into my lungs and holding it there as long as I can. Hendrix won’t leave me. Deep in my gut, I know he’s here to stay.

And with that comforting thought, I drift back to sleep.

The next time I wake up, the sun is shining through the crack between the curtains, and Hendrix is once again draped half over me. I don’t panic this time, but I’m sure there will be plenty more panicky nights before I get past this for good, eventually.

I run my fingers through Hendrix’s hair, giving his scalp a little massage. The thought of him leaving me like everyone else has is like a punch in the gut. It’s scary as hell to let someone have this much power over me. If he wants to, Hendrix could utterly destroy me. And even knowing he won’t, it’s still terrifying.

Maybe Hendrix was right. Maybe I need some closure.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Hendrix mumbles, blinking awake with a smile.

“I think I need to find my parents.”

Hendrix draws back, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Can we have coffee first?”

“Of course, doofus, I didn’t mean today. I just meant that I think you’re right; I need closure. Will you help me find them?”

“Anything for you. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

My stomach somersaults at his words. Last night wasn’t a dream, I really told Hendrix I love him. And it felt so damn good.

“I love you.” I test the words in the cold light of day, and Hendrix looks like sunshine is beaming from his very soul.

“Gross,” he mocks me before rolling on top of me and kissing me breathless.