Pain Management

Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

Red Rose Publishing www.redrosepublishing.com

Copyright ©2010 by Cassidy Ryan and Zoe Nichols First published in 2010 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven cassidyryanwrites.tripod.com ****

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Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

**** Pain Management By Cassidy Ryan and Zoe Nichols ****

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Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

****

**** This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan and Zoe Nichols **** Red RoseTM Publishing Publishing with a touch of Class! TM The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red RoseTM Publishing Red RoseTM Publishing Copyright(C) 2009 Cassidy Ryan and Zoe Nichols ISBN: 978-1-60435-621-2 5

Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

Cover Artist: T D McKinney Editor: Red RoseTM Publishing Line Editor: Red RoseTM Publishing All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. **** Red RoseTM Publishing www.redrosepublishing.com Forestport, NY 13338 Thank you for purchasing a book from Red RoseTM Publishing where publishing comes with a touch of Class! ****

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Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

Chapter One No, no, no, my brain screamed its denial, even as I took stock of my naked state, the discomfort in my ass that had nothing to do with falling on it, and the itch of dried come on my stomach. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block out the inevitable, but little flashes of the night before played on the back of my eyelids like a movie—the party at the agency to celebrate landing the Goldman Athletics account, way, way too much champagne, followed by flaming Sambuca and the vague recollection of someone losing an eyebrow. I lifted a hand to my face, relieved when I discovered that that someone wasn't me—small mercies indeed. But the memories were coming thick and fast now— stumbling out of the building with Reese, arms wrapped around each other in mutual support, laughing at jokes that only schoolboys and really drunk men could possibly find funny. Deciding to share a taxi home, even though we live in wildly opposite directions. Tag I knew I was hung over the second that consciousness kicked in. There was a tightness behind my eyes, as if they were being sucked back into my skull, and pressure on my temples so intense that I fully expected the top of my head to pop off at any second. With extreme care, I turned from my side onto my back, waiting for the inevitable nausea to roil in my stomach and fill my mouth with water brash. The 7

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expensive cotton sheets felt rough against my overlysensitive skin, the pillows might have been filled with rocks rather than the advertised 'Super comfortable, natural latex'. At least the room was dark, with only a thin stripe of light showing at the top of the curtains, so I hadn't been so drunk the night before that I had forgotten to close the curtains. Or maybe I hadn't bothered to open them the previous morning? My brain recoiled from such complex thoughts, and I turned onto my other side, automatically reaching for one of the unused pillows to hug it to me—it had been a while since the cool pillow had been a warm body. My fingers found the pillow, inched across it, and froze when they encountered sleep-warmed flesh and silky hair. I stopped breathing and every muscle in my body seized up while my brain raced at a hundred miles an hour with enough questions to make me dizzy. What the hell was I drinking last night—and how much? Who the hell was I in bed with? How could I get laid and not remember it—it's not like getting laid had exactly been a frequent event recently? What if he was ugly—like really, really ugly? The kind of ugly only copious amounts of alcohol could forgive? Yeah, I know, shallow, but damn, this could be awkward. I forced myself to relax enough to get my muscles working again, and eased slowly away from the body sharing my bed—and what was up with that? Since when did I invite strangers into my house? The answer came quickly, even to my fuzzy brain—since I started ignoring the fact that I am a 8

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complete lightweight when it came to booze, and shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a shot glass without a fuckin' keeper. As I slid soundlessly out of bed, I frowned, wondering how the guys could have let me do something so idiotic. I pretty much know my limits where alcohol is concerned, but on the few occasions when I have overstepped the mark, the guys have always been there to watch my back, to make sure I get home safe and don't enter any karaoke-cum-pole dancing contests. One of those in a lifetime is enough for any man. I could only assume my friends had been as wasted as I must've been, and therefore unable to haul me back from the edge of Mount Stupid. Just when I was starting to think I had the stealth thing working for me, that I was going to make a clean getaway— although where I was hoping to get to remains a mystery, since I had brought this stranger into my house—the sheet decided to wrap itself around my foot. An involuntary squeak escaped me, and, arms wind-milling, I lost what balance I had and landed on my ass on the hardwood floor with a thump and a curse. My eyes widened at the movement from the bed, as my guest turned, rose up, and muttered, in a horrifyingly familiar voice. "Wha' the fuck?" No, no, no, my brain screamed its denial, even as I took stock of my naked state, the discomfort in my ass that had nothing to do with falling on it, and the itch of dried come on my stomach. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block out the inevitable, but little flashes of the night before played on the back of my 9

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eyelids like a movie—the party at the agency to celebrate landing the Goldman Athletics account, way, way too much champagne, followed by flaming Sambuca and the vague recollection of someone losing an eyebrow. I lifted a hand to my face, relieved when I discovered that that someone wasn't me—small mercies indeed. But the memories were coming thick and fast now— stumbling out of the building with Reese, arms wrapped around each other in mutual support, laughing at jokes that only schoolboys and really drunk men could possibly find funny. Deciding to share a taxi home, even though we live in wildly opposite directions. The taxi stopped at my place first and I all but fell out, staggered up the path to the front door and, after several tries, got my key in the lock as I heard the taxi drive away. It was only when I turned to close the door behind me that I saw Reese—my best friend and business partner—standing on the front step with a goofy smile on his handsome face. I recalled laughing, reaching out and dragging him into the house. But the action just brought him flush up against me, and all the years of suppressed and carefully hidden want— need—washed over me like a tidal wave. For a second, after I slammed him back against the closed door, Reese looked a little shocked, then he grabbed my head and smashed our mouths together... Lying on my bedroom floor, naked and hungover, I felt my body respond to the memory of the kiss and groaned with a mixture of desire and dismay. I untangled myself from the sheet, scrambled to my feet, and crossed the floor in the 10

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direction of the chair by the window where I knew I would find my bathrobe. But it seemed the gods had decided that, for that moment at least, I was the designated court jester. Taking one step too many, my toe connected with the leg of the chair. I cursed up a blue streak and hopped around until I felt my balance go, reached out for support and grabbed onto the curtains. The curtain pole cracked in two under the weight, and I found myself on my ass again, this time struggling to get free of the curtains. When I finally managed to free myself I had to fight the urge not to dive back under the pile of fabric. The room was now flooded with light, and Reese was sitting up in bed staring, jaw slack and eyes wide. As I watched, Reese squeezed his eyes shut, dragged a hand through his hair and said, "Holy fuckin' crap." Yeah. Not exactly flattering. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Two Reese My words bounced around the room, echoing through my head, my heart and I winced. Tag mimicked me, his bloodshot eyes squeezing tight together. Embarrassment turned his cheeks a dull red beneath his tan. The color crept down his neck until, I swear up and down, even his shoulders were blushing. I closed my eyes when my gaze threatened to follow the natural path downward. God. God, shit, fuck. This was Tag. Tag, naked and redcheeked with dried come on his belly. Tag, who managed to be hot, disheveled and horrified all at once. Tag. My best friend...right after Kal. My stomach churned and I threw myself off the bed in a rush, escaping the sheets like they burned my skin. I knew this house, knew it like I knew my own so I let my legs send me down to the hall into the guest room. My feet skittered on the linoleum in the bathroom, sending me lurching up against the counter. In the mirror, I saw a wild man for all of a second before I tumbled sideways and offered penance to the porcelain god. My stomach heaved itself into knots I felt all over my body. Pain, I could deal with. The crushing guilt that flew in when I was slumped against the wall, bare back popping goosebumps from the chill with the toilet's flush echoing all about, that I couldn't deal with. I ran a hand through my short hair, feeling dried flecks of gel and grimaced. What am I going to do? I couldn't just leave, although every muscle that 12

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wasn't already shaking from hangover-induced exhaustion was straining to do so. Tag was my friend and my business partner. Crap, my business. The agency had been my life when Kal had died so abruptly, keeping me sane when I'd wanted to bury myself with him. I hugged my knees and rested my head against the wall, eyes closed. The agency had been my comfort. Now, with the events of last night between Tag and I, I would never be comfortable there again. I slammed my head on the wall and pain flared bright white behind my eyeballs, reminding me of the hangover, reminding me that I was still miserably alive. That no amount of self-destruction would make last night go away. A sudden shocking agony squeezed around my heart. There was no way we could go back to normal, no way. The memories would be too much. Even now, they pushed at my pain-fogged mind, trying to erupt across my senses like a life-destroying tsunami. I closed my eyes tighter and pressed my face into my knees, hard enough to make my nose tingle from the pressure. Damn, I just wanted to go home. Go home, sleep and start the day over. I sat like that, hunched over and pitiful, until my back started hurting. Then I forced myself to my feet and stumbled over to the shower, shoving the curtain aside. I turned the water on and shut the bathroom door. The air slowly turned steamy and in a moment of weakness, I spared a thought for Tag. Tag, who I'd left looking depressed and naked in his bedroom. A memory slipped through against my control—one that featured that long, bare body pressed 13

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against mine, ass arched into the cradle of my hips. My fingers spasmed—in my mind and out—squeezing a taut, slim hip. "Harder, Reese, please." The strangled sob played in my head on a taunting loop. "Please, please!" I snapped out of it when my dick stirred awake, startling me. I jumped into the shower, ignoring the bite of a million pinpricks of hot, hot water and pretended the shaking in my knees wasn't from the memory of explosive sex with one of my best friends. The lie worked, getting me in and out of the shower, and even down the hall with a towel hooked around my hips. That false courage faltered when I hit Tag's bedroom though. The door hung wide open, probably from when I'd flown through it like a bat out of hell. The guilt rose like bile in my throat and I forced my way through it. I had no choice. I couldn't remember where my clothes were and the best chance was the bedroom. Even if my mind played back the sound of buttons popping off and the image of a shirt sailing onto what might have been a couch. Praying otherwise, I forced myself across the threshold. Finding the room empty, the breath I hadn't been aware of holding whooshed out of me, deflating me. The bathroom door was closed and I could hear a shower running behind it. The deflated part threatened to become a lie and in an attempt to keep myself distracted from the unwanted image of Tag's wet, naked body, I rooted through the room for clothes. I found my slacks in a state of severe wrinkle beneath the bed and my shoes in the corner behind the chair. A few more minutes didn't yield my shirt or any 14

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other clothes for that matter—which gave my mind a field day I didn't need—so I gave up and exchanged the towel for my pants, finding my cell phone and wallet still in them by some miracle of God. I was shoving my bare feet into my loafers when the shower turned off. Adrenaline slammed through my veins almost immediately, turning my stomach into a churning pit of acidic fear. I couldn't see Tag right now. Not with last night fresh in my head and this hideous guilt threatening to drown me. Grabbing a t-shirt from the overflowing laundry bin, I flew out of the room, down the stairs and out the door at sonic speed, praying to God that I didn't break my neck by tripping while I simultaneously called Information to get a taxi. But then it would have been a small mercy if I did, one that would have spared us both the awkwardness to come. But if there was one thing I'd figured out, it was that there was no mercy in this life. Mercy meant fairness, mercy meant hope. When Kal died, I'd lost any belief in either. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Three Tag The thought of going into the office made my stomach churn worse than the lingering after effects of the previous night's binge, so, donning a pair of shades, I headed off to my mom's place in search of breakfast and distraction. The first thing I saw when I entered my childhood home was a partially dressed man just a year or two older than me. He smiled when he saw me, the smile of the well-bedded, but I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to indulge in my usual shudder of ewww at the thought of my mom and the gardener getting busy. In truth, I think I was starting to get used to the whole merry widow kick my mom was on. It had been nearly three years since Dad died, and I have to admit that the contented smile she'd been wearing since meeting Brad was far preferable to the cloud of grief that had hung over her for so long—although I could have done without hearing her little speech about rediscovering her sexual self. I nodded to Brad on his way upstairs and followed the smell of coffee through to the kitchen at the back of the house. Mom was sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen with the morning paper spread out before her, a small furrow of concentration between her eyebrows. She looked up when I entered, and the smile of welcome that automatically lifted her lips quickly turned into something more. "You got some last night!" 16

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A blush rose in my cheeks and I did my best to hide it behind a scowl. "Dear god, woman, is that all you think about?" I dropped a kiss on top of her head and went to fill a mug of coffee. She slid around on the barstool and pinned me with a look of determined curiosity. "Don't give me any of that coy nonsense. Spill it." "Shit, Mom, do we have to do this? Can't we just this once pretend that you're one of those moms who don't need all the gory detail of their son's sex life?" I leaned back against the counter and sipped from my mug, knowing I didn't have a hope in hell of her dropping it. "Now where would the fun be in that?" She crossed her legs, and just waited. Normally I would be happy to indulge her a little, not the gory details, of course, just enough to keep her happy. But this situation was so far from normal that I doubted I could find it with a map and a compass. I frowned into my coffee and my stomach clenched into a tight knot at the enormity of what I had done. I had wanted— loved—Reese for as long as I could remember, but had come to terms early on in our friendship with the fact that it would always be just that—friendship. And that was okay; good, even. Having a friend like Reese Hennessy was nothing to be sneezed at—he was fun and supportive, always there to lean on when life was kicking my ass, and I'd never met anyone who could give me such a run for my money on Grand Theft Auto. 17

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Watching him fall in love with Kal was a very special kind of torture. The first time I saw them together I knew that they were one of those couples who would be holding hands when they were old and gray. The emotion between them was almost palpable, and as happy as I was for Reese to have found that, it was a kind of pain I had neither experienced nor even knew existed. Watching his soul shatter when Kal died suddenly of an aneurysm was infinitely worse, however— there were times when I feared we would lose Reese under the weight of the grief he was carrying. It had only been in the last few months that the old Reese had started to resurface. I recalled the first time I had seen his trademark thousand-watt smile since Kal's death, and the relief that had welled up in me. I had my friend back. But now we had gone and blown it all to hell. How could we get by this? "Baby, are you okay?" I jumped when I felt Mom's hand on my arm. I hadn't even heard her move. I gave her the best smile I could muster, even though I knew she would see right through it. "I'm fine, Mom, just... stuff. You know? I should get to work." I shrugged and put my mug down on the counter. God bless her, she didn't push, just squeezed my arm. "Well, that's good then. So, Brad and I are going to fire up the barbeque tonight. Why don't you bring the boys over? You know how I love to be surrounded by all those goodlooking young men." Her voice was a little too bright, her smile clearly forced. I had never loved her more. 18

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"Sure thing, you old hussy." I pulled her into a hug and laughed when she smacked the back of my head. "Hey now, less of the old!" When I let her go and turned to leave, she held onto my arm until I turned back to her. She didn't say anything, but I saw everything right there in her brown eyes. I nodded my thanks, touched the hand that was resting on my arm, and left. It was after ten when I arrived at the offices of Grosvenor Advertising, on the top floor of a building that had been, in its many incarnations, a textile factory, a health club, and even a bible college. The place was already buzzing with activity, without a trace of the impromptu party of the night before. For the first time since Reese and I had started the agency with our college buds Elliot and Vann, I wished I were anywhere but there. Nausea that had nothing to do with booze roiled in my stomach, and my chest felt too tight to breathe properly. As I made my way toward my office, nodding greetings to staff, I kept my dark glasses firmly in place, feeling oddly vulnerable and on display. I stopped by Elliot's office on my way and found him and Vann cooing over a guitar, running their fingers almost reverently over the glossy surface. I had to smile—Elliot and Vann had a mutual love of music, and when the agency had started to pay off, they pitched in together to open a blues club. "Hey guys, sorry to interrupt your fondling, but Mom's having a barbeque tonight. You up for it?" 19

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Turning, Elliot grinned widely. "Free food? Hell yeah!" A lock of his shoulder-length hair had worked its way free of the ponytail at his nape. Elliot seemed to think tying his hair back and putting on a suit made him look respectable and business-like, when in fact it just made him look like a hippy on his way to a funeral. "Sounds good," Vann replied in a softer voice, fingers still trailing absently over the neck of the guitar. His smile was as subdued as Elliot's was bright. "Okay, cool. See you there then." There was no need to give them directions; they had been to the house countless times. I continued on my way to my own office, but my eyes were firmly fixed on the door to Reese's office. My palms felt clammy and there was an uncomfortable weight on my chest. The door opened and my breath stuttered to a halt when Reese appeared. He was wearing a crisp blue shirt and his hair was neatly combed—except for the little bit at the front that always seemed to defy any attempt at grooming. In spite of everything, my stomach performed a familiar flip at the sight of him. As if sensing that I was watching, Reese turned his head in my direction. For a heartbeat our gazes caught and held, then Reese lowered his eyes, went back into his office and closed the door behind him. Even with the noise around me, I heard the click of the door closing and flinched. I felt like I had been physically struck. [Back to Table of Contents] 20

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Chapter Four Reese With the end of the day upon me, I sat behind my desk, staring into the depths of my fifth—sixth, eighth—coffee. I was plotting how I could sneak out and continue my avoid everyone and everything plan when the door flew open and Elliot Dumercot meandered through. His long dark hair had long since been released from its ponytail prison and his dark green suit jacket was terribly wrinkled, likely from the fact that Elliot didn't own an iron and even if he did, he was too absentminded to remember to use it. Still, the suit looked good against his light tan and made his smiling green eyes look even brighter. The rest of the guys and I tended to leave him alone about his fashion style. At least the guy could color coordinate and I'd yet to get a complaint about his rumpled appearance. "Reese!" Elliot kicked the door shut and tossed himself into one of the two armchairs parked in front of my desk, his feet going up onto a corner of the dark, smooth wood. "My friend, mi amigo, where've you been all day?" I gestured around my comfortably furnished office and feigned confusion. "Here, where else would I be? Today is Friday last I checked." Elliot snorted. "Not physically, bro. Mentally." One long, tapered finger tapped against Elliot's temple. "Your office's been giving off some serious do not disturb vibes. What bad zone are you in?" 21

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It was my turn to snort. "Vibes? Zones? What is this, the sixties? Come off it, hippy." "Okay." Elliot's feet came down and he leaned forward. His lazy drawl was gone, replaced by the clear, concise tone I'd come to think of as his Big Businessman voice. "You wanna be dodgy? Fine. You've been locked up in here from first thing this morning 'til now, and even Tag's given your door a wide berth. Whatever's wrong with you, it's messing us up. So what's going on?" Tag's name made my heart stutter behind my ribs. As casually as I could, I sipped my cold coffee and pretended guilt wasn't screaming through my head along with a lust so strong, I could barely contain it. Half the reason I'd hidden was the fear that I'd drag Tag into the first utility closet I passed. I'd tried to tap it down, tried to bury myself in work, but it was there. It lurked beneath the feeling of cheating on Kal's memory, beneath the knowledge that I'd—that we'd— fucked up a friendship that had lasted forever. I swallowed more bad coffee and muttered half of the truth. "Kal's been on my mind today." Elliot's body lost its aggressive lean and he slouched back, rubbing a hand over his face. "Man... sorry. I forgot what day it was." I froze then shoved my hand into my pocket, yanking my phone out and frantically clicking through the options until I hit my calendar. The number in the little box nearly stopped my heart. The fifth of June. Two years to the day since Kal had died. All the coffee in my stomach congealed around a tight knot of 22

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pain. I'd forgotten all about it, too wrapped up in the folly of last night and this inconvenient lust for Tag. I dropped my head onto my desk and breathed. Two years. God Almighty, had it really been that long already? Some days, I didn't notice so much. On those days, I could laugh a bit. Smile some more. Then there were nights when the other side of my bed loomed before me, empty and cold. On those nights, it was like I'd just lost Kal all over again. Tonight, I realized numbly, was gonna be one of those nights. Did I have any Scotch left? "Reese, Reese." Elliot's quiet voice pulled me from the darkness nipping at me. When I brought my head up, he looked serious for once. "Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I want you to come out tonight." "No." I didn't have to think about it. "I can't." "Dude, I don't mean out like a club." Elliot's hand flicked the idea away. "I mean, come hang out with us tonight. Don't be alone." He barreled on before I could reject him again. "Tag's mom is having a barbeque. It's gonna be just us, her boyfriend—didn't Tag say she's doing the gardener? And some really good ribs." I wavered. Even if it would put me in seriously close proximity with Tag, I realized I wanted to go. I'd spent one too many nights in a bottle, trying to drown out the world. The guys usually let me be, well, everyone except Tag. Tag would climb into the bottle with me or on my more destructive days, he'd drag me to his place and shove a game controller in my hand, letting me release the bitterness in a torrent of animated bullets. 23

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I closed my eyes for a moment, knowing I'd never have that safe zone again. Not when I knew how Tag's mouth tasted, or the way his body looked bare in the moonlight. When I opened my eyes, the glint in Elliot's eyes told me that there wasn't anything that would get me out of this. It made me wonder if it'd been planned all along but I couldn't muster up any resentment or even gratitude. All I felt was a weird kind of relief. I wouldn't have to deal with my memories alone tonight. "All right, fine. I'll go." Elliot's smile gleamed with satisfaction. "Good choice, man. You won't regret it." Then he came to his feet with a quick clap of his hands. "C'mon, c'mon, let's go." "Uh." I glanced around my office a little dumbly, confused. "We're leaving now?" "Yup." Elliot had my mug in hand before I even realized he was moving. He headed into the connecting bathroom and the sound of running water could be heard a second later. Elliot wandered back in a little while after, holding my empty mug. He lifted a brow at the sight of me still behind my desk. That brow questioned my insubordination. "Reese, I'm serious. Have you seen the time?" I blanked out and glanced at my computer screen. Five p.m. When'd that happened? Where had the day gone? "It's five." I knew I sounded as surprised as I felt. "Why the hell is it five already?" I didn't have any time to amp myself up to play the role required of me tonight. Didn't have time to build up the mental wall that I'd desperately need to keep the 24

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memories back so I didn't cringe and need whenever I looked at Tag. "Five comes after four," Elliot said helpfully, setting the mug on my desk. "C'mon now, Reese. No stalling." I shut off my computer slowly and slid from my chair, grabbing my coat from the back of it while I moved. As I shrugged into it and picked up both my briefcase and mug, I knew stalling was exactly what I was doing. Already I could feel panic rising in my belly, a panic that worsened when I stepped out of my office ahead of Elliot. I knew I didn't want to be home alone, I knew that. But I was walking into hell and I just wanted to hide. That last thought made me frown at myself. Since when had I become such a coward? A glance down the hall presented me with Tag's office door, cracked open so the light spilled out in a thin line. I didn't have to be near it to figure that Vann was likely in there with Tag. Was he playing detective too? Trying to figure out why Tag and I were avoiding each other like the plague? They probably thought we'd had some kind of stupid fight. I turned to Elliot, frowning. I didn't want Tag being prodded at anymore than I wanted to be poked at. But Elliot was a step ahead of me, if in the wrong direction. "Don't worry, they're coming. This isn't some intervention—it really is a party." I opened my mouth to correct him, to tell him that he wasn't even close to what I was thinking but then I closed my mouth and nodded instead. A part of me wanted to sound off at him for pushing us like this but I knew their hearts—Elliot's and Vann's—were in the right place. The situation was just a 25

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whole lot messier than either of them would probably ever guess. The elevator dinged and we stepped inside, with me muffling my sigh. Maybe Tag's mom had Scotch. I could hope, right? [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Five Tag June fifth. I let my head fall back against the wall of the elevator with a dull thud. How could I have forgotten the anniversary of Kal's death? Okay, so we weren't exactly close friends. I'd tended to keep a bit of a distance from the man, afraid he would somehow sense my feelings for Reese, but that was no excuse. If I hadn't remembered the date for Kal's sake, then I should certainly have remembered it for Reese's—June fifth was probably the most important day in Reese's life, and as his friend I should have been aware of it, ready to offer my support if he needed it. It did answer a question that had been niggling at the back of my mind all day though. I'd wanted Reese for years, so the previous night had been like a dream come true for me— albeit a rather blurry, chemically fuelled dream. But Reese? Why had he allowed it to happen? I knew he'd never had any feelings in that direction for me, so why? Well, now the answer seemed apparent—Reese had been looking for a way to escape the pain, if only for a little while. I guess I was...convenient. It was the only explanation that made any sense. And damn, wasn't that just a kick in the balls? Not that I was mad at Reese—it wasn't like I was some kind of virgin he had taken advantage of, but knowing that I was just a warm, willing body—that I could have been anyone—I won't deny it hurt. 27

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I jumped when a hand came to rest on my shoulder, and looked over to find Vann, the only other occupant of the elevator, watching me with an almost understanding smile. I automatically smiled back. I felt very tempted to unburden myself to Vann—if there was one person I would feel comfortable confiding this whole mess in, it was Vann. He had a quiet, comforting way about him, a way of making you feel calmer just by being in his presence. He was also, quite probably, the most intuitive person I had ever met. All day, whenever I ventured out of my office, I felt Vann's eyes on me, concern in their blue-grey depths. When he came into my office at the end of the day, ostensibly to offer me a ride to Mom's, what I heard was, "If you need to talk, I'm here." I just nodded and accepted the ride. I wasn't ready to talk about the situation yet. When Vann and I arrived at Mom's, Brad—looking every bit the surfer with his sun-bleached hair and board shorts—was manning the grill like a pro—beer bottle in one hand, flipping burgers, chicken, and steaks with the other. He held up the beer and grinned when he saw us, and I fully expected him to say, "Dude!" I did my best to smile back, but damn, that guy looked way too fuckin' sated for my liking. Elliot was already piling a plate high with food. When he saw us he beckoned us over to the grill with a hand clutching a chicken drumstick, while grinning around a burger. Beside me Vann snickered. "I guess that mean's the party's started." He headed over to join Brad and Elliot, snagging a couple of beers on the way. 28

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I lingered in the doorway, my eyes drifting around the garden in a way that I hoped appeared casual to anyone who might be watching. The garden wasn't that big, so I soon found Reese, sitting under the big oak tree I had climbed as a boy. He was leaning back, his head resting on the bark, eyes closed, sipping from a bottle of beer. My eyes tracked the movement of his Adam's apple and my stomach tightened almost painfully. Jesus, would I ever get used to how beautiful the man was? Normally I would have grabbed a beer of my own and gone over to join him, but I didn't, the knowledge that now I probably wouldn't be welcome like a cold hand squeezing my heart. It hit me then, just how different everything was going to be now. There would be no more easy camaraderie, no more dropping by Reese's office to trash talk his prowess on the Playstation, no more evenings spent on his sofa, throwing popcorn at the TV during bad horror movies. Everything would be awkward and uncomfortable, avoiding each other when we could, unable to make eye contact when we couldn't. Tears stung the back of my eyes and I felt sick to my stomach. I turned away to head back into the kitchen, maybe even to flee the house, but bumped into Mom and had to grab onto her to avoid knocking her on her ass. "Whoa there, cowboy, what's your hurry?" She was juggling a bowl of salad and a basket of bread rolls. "Oh, uh, sorry. I was...I was just coming to look for you." I could tell by her raised eyebrow that she didn't believe a word 29

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of it, but she didn't call me on my lie. Instead, she handed me the bread and grabbed another bowl of potato salad off the counter. "Well, you've found me; now let's get out there before Elliot leaves us nothing but bones to gnaw on." She nudged me out the door and I had no option but to follow her to the picnic table in the corner of the garden. "Come and sit yourselves down at the table, boys. You might eat like pigs in your own homes, but we have manners around here." She put the food on the table and waved everyone over. Brad added a huge platter of barbeque and everyone took a seat around the table. It wasn't that big a table, but Reese had managed to find a way to sit as far away from me as possible and still remain in the same zip code. I couldn't suppress the sigh of regret that pushed past my lips. I took a sip of beer and had to force it past the golf-ball sized lump that had formed in my throat. I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. "So, boys," Mom helped herself to a steak, "I know that, with the exception of Brad—thank God—you're all as gay as lollipops and unicorns, but maybe you could give me an opinion? Would you consider me to be a cougar or a M.I.L.F?" I gaped at her as laughter exploded around the table. I looked at Brad to see his reaction to the question, and he had this look on his face—all soft eyes and indulgent smile, and I thought, holy crap, he's really in love with her. An unexpected smile tugged at my own mouth. 30

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There followed a rather long and, quite frankly mortifying, conversation on the merits of cougar versus M.I.L.F. Feeling a little bewildered, I looked across at Reese. "Are you going to help me here, man?" He just grinned back. "Dude, she's your mom." For a wonderful moment it all felt so normal, so relaxed. I laughed, and Reese's eyes danced playfully. For just that moment I let myself believe everything was as it should be, allowed myself to ignore the truth. Late in the evening, with everyone full of food and beer, the atmosphere mellow and pleasant, Elliot and Vann—who never went anywhere without their guitars—got them out and began to play for us. Not for the first time, I was struck by how well these two very different men blended. Elliot's voice was whisky rough while Vann's was smooth and rich. They could both carry a tune on their own, but when they got together, the combination was nothing short of powerful. In no time flat they had the rest of us in thrall. I felt more at ease than I had all day, my eyelids drooping and lips curling up in a satisfied smile. I tilted my head to the side and cast a glance over at Reese, only to find him watching me intently. My breath got stuck in my chest at the heat I saw in his eyes. His pupils were so big they nearly eclipsed the irises, and when he blinked it seemed to be in slow motion. My pulse kicked up a notch and my mouth watered as realization hit me. That look? It was undisguised need and naked want. [Back to Table of Contents] 31

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Chapter Six Reese I couldn't have stopped staring for the life of me. We were all sprawled on an assortment of blankets. Tag's mother, Laney, and Brad were cuddling in the middle of one and Tag and I each had a blanket on opposite sides of them. On the high-backed patio chairs, Elliot and Vann played something warm and romantic with a Latin feel to it, their vividly different voices twisting together, in sync. With the moon peeking from behind a cloud and just enough beer in me to give me a gentle buzz, it was a beautiful night. A perfect night. And Tag... damn, I just couldn't stop looking. He was stretched out on his side, feet crossed at the ankles, his head resting on his fist. His thick honey brown hair flopped over his eyebrows. He wore a gray shirt that hugged his chest and his tailored pants did something so amazing to his legs that I could feel my heart flip in my chest. I wanted to lick up those long legs, in between his lean, muscled thighs. I could picture them in my head and the image wouldn't leave me alone. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was me. Then Tag looked over, his heavy-lidded brown eyes turned almost black in the patio lights and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was him. He was the reason my slacks were tight at the crotch, why I ached. I was so tired of aching. My heart ached for Kal, my body for Tag. Could I have peace for a night? Just one night? 32

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I guess my thoughts were on my face. I was just a little too tipsy to hide it. His mouth dropped open just a bit and his eyes flickered with confusion. I didn't blame him—shit, no, I didn't. I'd run damn near screaming from his house and dodged him like he had the plague all day at work. I wasn't proud of myself, but in my defense... well, I'd slept with my best friend. And God help me, I wanted to do it again. As if he read my mind, Tag visibly swallowed and, in a painful attempt at subtlety, he started scratching his thigh and in a quick motion, rearranged himself. I dug my fingers into the blanket beneath me and darted a glance around to see if anyone had caught him. Elliot and Vann were deep into their song, eyes closed and faces serene like they were in their own world, making music for no other reason than the fact that they could. Laney and Brad were absorbed in each other and I wondered with a spurt of sudden amusement if we'd be seeing wedding bells for those two soon. Laney had been by herself for a long time. Not lonely, I don't think, but alone. Odd how I'd never put much stock into the differences in the words until I'd lost Kal and I'd been steeped in both. I was still lonely but tonight, I wasn't alone. That feeling drove me to look back at Tag, and this time I canted my head toward the house. What I really wanted to do was get Tag to my house but I knew I wasn't drunk enough to ignore that one in the morning. Even if it would be something else to wake up with another warm body in my bed. But the implications? Just thinking about them floored me. 33

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I swallowed and waited for Tag's response. If a little, stone-cold sober voice inside me questioned my madness, I ignored it and kept my gaze on Tag... or rather Tag's parted lips where little puffs of air were escaping. Excited breaths. Oh, thank God. Tag stared me down then nodded, a very small, almost imperceptible motion. My breath backed into my throat and my cock threatened to out me to everyone. I brought my legs up quickly to hide the hard-on and hoped I looked casual instead of horny when I did it. Tag angled his lean body off the ground. Laney stirred against Brad and tossed him a look I didn't catch but Tag's reassuring smile had her settling again. Brad wrapped an arm around her waist and he brushed a gentle kiss across the top of her head. A lump formed in my throat as the sight threatened to undo me. To avoid dealing with the rush of feeling, I watched Tag amble into the darkened house and kept staring until the lump finally faded. I waited a few minutes, doing my best to look at anything but the couple beside me. The booze in my belly seemed to have vanished, leaving me uncomfortably sober and horny. And a little sad. I didn't want to be sad though. Judging that a respectable amount of time had passed, I climbed to my feet as well, and strolled as casually as I could toward the house. On the threshold, however, a prickling on the back of my neck had me glancing back. Both Laney and Vann were watching me with unreadable expressions that were almost identical. My stomach twisted and I gave them a wan smile that wasn't returned. Oh God. How much did they know? The thought whirled in my head as 34

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I made my way through the house by memory alone. It was darker than I'd thought but it didn't take me long to spot the thin beacon of light coming from the hallway bathroom. Tag's signal. I forgot how to think. I had to swallow back a rush of need before stepping in and shutting the door that had been left partially cracked. He sat on the toilet lid, forearms resting on his thighs so his hands could dangle between his legs. Having my gaze at that level meant I could see the material straining around the bulge at his crotch. Tag looked up and caught me staring. He licked his lips and I could feel his nervousness almost tangibly, like it filled up the bathroom the way lust was filling my dick. "Reese..." It was all I let him get out. I was across the bathroom in two steps, my mouth on his a second later. He tasted like beer and barbeque sauce, and beneath that there was a refreshing, almost sweet taste that was all Tag. I slipped my tongue in, teasing his. Tag groaned. His hands cupped my ass and he pulled me onto his lap, mouth wet and willing under mine. I ground against him as we kissed, savoring how hard he was under me, how hot his mouth was. His hips somehow managed to roll and I had the sudden feeling that I was like a bronco rider, riding something fierce and wild. Something strong enough to break me into millions of tiny, tiny pieces. It was frightening. It was exhilarating. 35

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Tag broke away, panting. "Shit, Reese." I loved how rough his voice was, loved that it was me who'd done it to him. "I... just... damnit." "Uh huh." Deprived of his mouth, I went for his neck, kissing down toward his shoulder. I nosed under his shirt, drowning in the scent of warm man and that cinnamon soap I bought him every Christmas. I inhaled deep and straightened, tugging at the shirt. "Get it off." Instead of moving, Tag stared up at me. On solid ground, we were about the same height, passing six feet at two inches on the nose. With me on his lap, I was taller, and with him looking up at me, his brown eyes gone dark with the same lust that churned through me, I felt powerful. I lifted a brow at his slowness. "C'mon, Tag, off with it." He hesitated until my hands started pulling at the bottom then Tag pulled up and off, forcing me to lean back to avoid a fist to the nose. The shirt landed in the sink and I slid off his lap to really look. The first time I'd seen him naked, I'd been too drunk to really appreciate it. Now, I was sober—or close to it—and I could admire the muscled bounty before me. Tag wasn't heavy with muscle—his lean frame would have looked weird with too much bulk. But he was strongly built, with a wide chest and a set of abs that were pretty damn edible in my opinion, especially covered in that perfect tan. I dropped to my knees, leaned in and licked them. Tag hissed and his fists clenched on his thighs. His eyes were a little wild around the edges, a look that would have fit better if I'd licked his dick instead of just his stomach. But it was there and I took advantage of it, going back to his abs and 36

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dragging my tongue along those taut ridges. His muscles flexed under my mouth, fluttering and clenching. Tag's stomach was a sensitive spot? I tried to remember if I'd ever tickled him before and couldn't find a moment. Oh well. I liked finding out this way better. I leaned in and pressed my mouth fully against him, putting hot, openmouthed kisses over every spot I licked. Tag's hands made their way into my hair and locked in as I moved. He tugged when I went over an apparently highly sensitive spot and the motion sent dark needles of pain-pleasure down my spine to tunnel into my dick. Every nerve sang and I wanted more of it. I couldn't remember the last time my body felt so alive. I slid down further, mouthing the button of his pants and realized two things at once—I wanted to suck Tag so badly that my mouth was beginning to water... and Tag was pushing me away. Gently but still, the hands in my hair moved to my shoulders and pressed me back, back, back. My whole body strained against him, fighting to get back in touch. I wanted to keep my hands on him so badly, I could actually feel myself shaking. The strong reaction startled me enough that Tag managed to move me back far enough to get off the toilet lid. He grabbed his shirt and had his hand on the doorknob by the time I could find any functioning brain cells. "Wait, Tag." I used the wall for balance and climbed to my feet. My whole body ached, a feeling that only worsened as I drank in the taut muscles of his back. "Look at me, man. Where are you going?" "I can't do it." Tag didn't leave but he didn't look at me either. That was almost as bad. "I can't do it, Reese." 37

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"Can't do what?" Dumb question yes, but I didn't know what else to say to that strong back. "I can't fu... I can't sleep with you." Tag finally turned, dragging a hand through his hair. "I thought I could, you know. Did the first time, what was a second? But I just... I just can't." Anger surged, sudden and fierce. I didn't want to admit that the bitter tang of rejection colored it. "So, what, I'm only good enough for drunk one nighters?" Tag jerked upright, looking like I'd slugged him in the gut. "That's not it. Fucking hell, Reese, you know that's not it!" "Then what is it?" I couldn't look at him anymore. I knew if I did, I'd realize how much of a jackass I was being. So my best friend didn't want to sleep with me, so what? But it felt like a kick to the nuts, like Tag had stomped all over what little dignity I had left. "Tell me why you can't do it when I'm—when we're—sober enough to know what we're doing." Tag's mouth clamped shut so tight, I was surprised his teeth didn't shatter from the impact. He was silent for a long time. So long that I didn't think he'd answer and I was starting to pick up my shields, getting ready to get while the getting was good when Tag's jaw finally loosened. "I can't be second place." Five words— six if you broke apart the contraction—and all the anger, the hurt, the rejection just died. This time I couldn't look at him because I didn't want to see his face or the look on it. There was enough rawness in his voice to last me a lifetime. I stared at a corner of the mirror instead, 38

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looking at the reflection of his ear. At the little scar where he'd managed to cut himself doing God only knew what. Finally my throat unclogged enough for me to answer. I spoke to the mirror like the coward I was. "That's all I have left." Silence descended, uncomfortable, taut... sad. I'd tried to avoid being sad and yet here it was. Tag's soft voice was like a blow, exploding the sadness into unrelenting pain. "It's not enough, Reese. It's never going to be enough." I watched through the mirror as Tag tugged his shirt on and slipped out the door. The firm click that sounded as it shut echoed in my ears long after the door had closed behind him. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Seven Tag I love my job, I really do. I often hear people talking about how fast the weekend flies by, and how Monday is the worst day of the week. I've never felt like that, in fact, most weekends I spent at least some of my time at the office— more often than not joined by at least one of the guys. That weekend, however, passed frighteningly quickly. I was almost afraid to blink in case I lost another few hours. I didn't go into the office on Saturday, worried that I would bump into Reese, and I really wasn't up to that. Friday night sat like a great weight on my chest, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Walking away from Reese had been one of the hardest things I had ever done. Everything in me was screaming at me to stop, turn around, but I forced my legs to keep moving, even though every muscle in my body was pulling me back. I could see confusion and concern in Mom's eyes when I told her that I had to head out, but she didn't push or question me, and with a quick hug I all but ran from the house, determined to be gone before Reese reappeared. Saturday was a whole new experience in torment. I spent the morning at the gym, pushing my body way past its comfort zone in an effort to drive memories of Reese from my muscles—memories that had begun to drip into my consciousness until I could actually feel him again. I could feel his skin under my fingers—the goose bumps that rose on his 40

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flesh where my hands trailed over him. I could smell him—he used the same cinnamon soap as me, but under that was heat and musk, and something so uniquely Reese that just the recollection could get me hard as a rock. But most of all, I could feel him in me. I'd never felt so full, so complete in all my life as I had when Reese pushed inside me. It went so far beyond the physical it was frightening. Everything in me seemed to expand, to shift and make room for his presence. I spent the afternoon doing all the mundane chores that I generally tended to put off for as long as possible—trips to the dry cleaners and the market, laundry, cleaning the shower, and organizing the recycling bins. As the hours passed the tension in me coiled tighter and tighter until, by the evening, I felt like a junkie desperate for a fix. I knew that if I went to Reese I could spend the night in his bed, tasting him, touching him, wrapping myself around him until I couldn't tell where I ended and he started. And, dear god, it was tempting to just let go and take whatever he had to offer. Did it really matter so much that he would never return my feelings for him? He wanted me, couldn't that be enough? But it wasn't, and never would be. I'd said as much to Reese, and it was true. While there was a part of me that was willing to accept any scraps Reese threw me just to be with him, there was another, stronger part that insisted I listen to reason. Not being with Reese would hurt like a bastard, but being with him, knowing he would never love me, that he'd trade me for Kal in a heartbeat? That would destroy me a day 41

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at a time. It would destroy us—the friendship we had worked on for years—until there was nothing left but pain and bitterness. A sleepless night, followed by a morning of yet more internal battling, and I'd had enough. The thought of this being my future was unbearable. I left the house at lunchtime, arrived at the office half an hour later, and spent the rest of the day immersed in research with the phone all but glued to my ear. Sleep came a little easier that night, in spite of the knot in my stomach that was becoming a permanent companion. ****

**** When I arrived at the agency on Monday morning I left messages with each of the guys' assistants asking them to meet me in the boardroom. "Dude, I thought we had banned early morning meetings?" Elliot shuffled into the room clutching his coffee like a lifeline, eyes barely open behind his gold rimmed glasses. "You would ban early mornings if you got the chance." Vann grinned and dropped into his usual chair, ignoring the scowl Elliot sent his way.

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"I'd ban you," Elliot muttered, sounding like a disgruntled teenager. Reese entered and seated himself in silence. I looked at him from under my lashes and saw that he looked tired, a frown pulling his eyebrows together and dark circles under his eyes. Clearly his weekend hadn't been any better than mine. The sight of Reese strengthened my resolve, and when everyone was settled I handed out the file folders I had made up. "Thanks for making time for this meeting at such short notice, guys." I took a moment to compose myself by organizing my papers in front of me. "What's going on, Tag?" Elliot looked rather blearily at the folder he'd been handed, but made no move to investigate it. Coughing to clear my throat, I began to lay out the plan that had taken form the day before. "A while ago we discussed the possibility of expanding the agency. Well, now that we're on such solid ground, I think it might be time to resurrect the idea and think about it more seriously." I indicated for the others to open their folders. "You know of the Lanscome Agency in Chicago, yeah? Well, apparently Arthur Lanscome is fast approaching retirement and is reluctant to leave the agency in the hands of his son—a wannabe playboy whose idea of advertising is wearing clothes with the designer label on show and sleeping with models. Yesterday I had an informal talk with Arthur about the possibility of taking over the agency, and he seemed very open to the idea." 43

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The rustle of paper signaled the interest of the men around the table. "Now, obviously I couldn't get Lanscome to cough up actual facts and figures at this point, but I've done some research, and as you can see from the report in the file, the agency is on pretty firm ground, but there is the potential there for a lot of improvement." I spent the next half hour laying out my proposal to the guys and answering their questions. "One thing, Tag." Elliot was looking altogether more alert now. "One of us is going to need to be at the helm. That means moving to Chicago." I nodded, swallowing. "I was thinking I'd like to do that. Now, I can set up a meeting with Arthur for later in the week if you're all in agreement?" I held my breath as the guys all thought it over, looking at the reports. "Wouldn't hurt to set up a meeting, find out a little more." Vann finally broke the silence, looking around him. Elliot nodded. "I agree. This could be a good move." Reese looked stone-faced. He gathered up his papers and got to his feet. "Well, looks like that's a consensus. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He left stiffly, and I flinched when he closed the door with more force than was necessary. The room rang with silence until Elliot closed his file with a loud slap. "What in the hell is going on with you two?" I knew better than to try to deny it, but I wasn't willing to talk about it either. "Look, guys, it's...complicated." 44

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Elliot opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could Vann stood up. "Why don't we all get back to it? Looks like it's going to get busy around these parts." He moved around the table and nudged Elliot, who frowned, but allowed himself to be maneuvered out of the room. Finally able to breathe again, I collected my papers and went back to my office. My heart almost leapt into my mouth when I closed the door, turned to go to my desk and found Reese leaning back against it, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face that could have melted steel. "This is you're solution? You're running away?" "I'm not running away, Reese, I just...this is for the best." I rounded my desk, putting a barrier between us. "Oh, really? And just how do you figure that?" He turned to face me, a thin veneer of calm over simmering anger. "Come on, Reese, you know that if I stay here something will happen between us. It's as inevitable as the sun coming up in the morning. But what you want and what I need aren't anything like similar." I sighed and dropped into my chair. "I want you, Reese, and it's only a matter of time before I give up what I need and just take whatever the hell is on offer. We'll end up hating each other—you'll hate me because I'm not Kal, and I'll hate you because you will never love me." "You think going to Chicago will make everything better?" I was glad that he didn't try to deny the obvious truth, and I saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. "I think that if we have some distance between us for a while, then it might help us find some perspective. I really 45

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think that we can save our friendship, man." He flinched; I don't know if it was at my words or the pleading tone in them. He let out a long sigh filled with frustration, and let his head fall until his chin was nearly touching his chest. "Jesus, when did everything get so fuckin' complicated?" It was a rhetorical question, but even if I'd had an answer for him I wouldn't have had the chance to give it, because he turned and left with a suddenness that left me a little stunned. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eight Reese I didn't know where I was going. Just knew it wasn't my office. I stormed down the hall, making for the elevator. A walk, that's what I needed. A walk in the park or something, anywhere outside so I could figure out how to breathe through the panic cluttering up my throat. My God. He was leaving me. Leaving. Just going to get on a plane and fly to a completely different state and leave me here. Alone. Again. I shoved a hand through my hair as I approached the elevators and then slapped the down button. I had to get out, had to think. There had to be a way I could fix this because I knew, deep down in my gut, that if Tag left... it was over. What it was supposed to be was kinda up in the air right now. He'd said our friendship and I guess that was what I was trying to keep from sinking. But Tag had also said the L-word and that meant it wasn't just friendship anymore, a thought that had my heart doing cartwheels in my chest. The elevator dinged and I watched the numbers light up, feeling impatience swell. Damn, why had we gotten a three story building again? Did we really need a lobby? Or an underground parking lot? My senses were on a high level of aggravation when the elevator dinged again and the doors whooshed open. My heart plummeted to my toes when I found Vann inside, looking out at me in his calm, expectant way. I don't think I'd 47

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ever seen Vann flustered or worried, not in college, and not now, when he was co-owner of his own company. His hair sat in elegant disarray on his head, blue-gray eyes serene. His crisp black slacks and long-sleeved maroon shirt with Grosvenor Advertising written in sloping white script over the small left breast pocket made me feel wrinkled and tired. Leaning against the support beam running along the elevator box, he tilted his head toward the spot beside him. I thought about running off to the stairwell instead but I had a feeling he'd be standing there, waiting for me. I liked Vann, loved him like a brother really. I knew exactly how persistent he could be...without even trying. I walked inside and almost immediately after, the doors slid shut behind me, like they too had been waiting for me. Vann didn't waste any time, just silently punched the P button and the elevator began its smooth descent to the parking garage. I stared down at my hands, unable to meet his gaze or even speak. I didn't know what I'd say if I opened my mouth but I knew it wouldn't be rational. In my mind's eye, I could see the look he'd given me on Friday night, just before I'd slipped away to make my second biggest mistake ever. That look told me there was nothing I could say anyway. The silence was heavy all the way down. I fought not to fidget, shoving my hands into the pockets of my slacks and leaving them there. Drops of sweat began forming on the back of my neck. I was hot in my suit, uncomfortable with the role it presented. I was supposed to be Reese Hennessey, businessman. So where had all my savvy gone? Why was my 48

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brain spinning around in useless circles in my skull, unable to come up with a way to stop this? The elevator came to a stop with a small shudder, jolting me from my thoughts. The door slid open, and for a moment, I thought I'd gotten off the hook. But I should have known better. Vann stepped out with me and strolled beside me all the way to my car. The silence was getting to me, just like it always did. Vann's quiet nature was probably the force behind all of us sticking together. Tag, Elliot and I were hotheads when it came down to it but hot anger had no defense against cool silence. I made it all the way to the car before giving in. "Damnit, Vann, I don't want to talk about it." He only leaned against the trunk, crossing his arms. That unflinching stare never strayed from my face. I kept from fidgeting by sheer willpower alone, but it was hard when he actually looked me in the eye. The silence stretched to the breaking point, making me sweat in my suit. Vann finally straightened from the car, coming a few inches beneath my chin. Yet his stare didn't lose any of its power just because he had to tilt his face up some. "You need to see Laney." After all of that, Vann's voice was almost painfully gentle. I couldn't keep still anymore. I reached into my pocket and found the keys I'd never taken out. Maybe I'd known I wouldn't be putting in a full day's work. Or maybe I'd just gotten used to running. Either thought made me feel a little bleak on the inside. I thumbed the key fob and the car alarm beeped off. Shrugging out of my jacket, I tossed it in the back 49

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then found myself leaning my head against the roof of the car. "Why Laney?" The question escaped before I could stop it. But it was a good one. What would Tag's mother have to say? I could remember the look she'd given me too. If she had anything to say, it would probably be all four letter words. Laney Taggart was no one's fool. The sound of shoes scraping had me looking up in time to see Vann walking away. Shock held me still then my tongue loosened. "Wait, Vann! Wait!" He stopped in the middle of the lot and looked back at me. "Go see Laney. Trust me, it's for your own good." "But I..." "Go, Reese. It's better than running away." I flinched, and this time, when Vann started walking away, I didn't say a word to stop him. Instead, I watched until the elevator swallowed up his lanky figure then climbed into my car. I ignored the way my fingers shook when I started the engine, pulled out and drove up the exit ramp. Late morning sunlight painted the world a burnished gold and glared off the backs of cars as I pulled into light traffic. It carried me all the way through the city, becoming lighter and lighter as the high rise buildings dropped into apartments and little clothing boutiques, then rose up again into quiet, genteel suburbia. Soon it was just me and row after row of tree-lined streets and neatly cut lawns. A smattering of kids appeared here and there, enjoying a splash in round plastic pools or running through the sprinkles. 50

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Laney's house was fairly easy to spot. It was the only one minus minor-aged children. I parked against the curb and climbed out. Immediately spotting Brad, clad in a pair of worn khakis and work boots, a bandanna holding back his blond hair as he pruned Laney's rose bushes. A part of me wondered how many times they'd joked about that particular chore then shook my head at myself. That was a first, an area I didn't even want to think about since Laney was like my mother and second, pretty much a distraction from the conversation ahead. I headed up the path that bisected Laney's lawn, feeling a lot like I was headed to my own beheading. Brad caught sight of me as I hit the porch steps and he raised a gloved hand in a quick wave, and a small glimmer of a smile. I sent the wave back but couldn't muster up a smile for the life of me. I wondered if he knew then decided he didn't. I don't think he'd have smiled if he knew. Possibly would have killed me for upsetting Laney. And Laney had to be upset. Why else would Vann send me here? I knocked once and through a crack I hadn't seen, I heard Laney yell for me to come in. She actually said my name. My stomach shrank another few inches as I edged over the threshold. Vann had to have called her, how else could she have known? Which made me wonder if they'd been planning this? And for how long? They'd been too prepared for it to be spontaneous. Elliot probably hadn't been on it, he didn't know how to be subtle. But Vann? Vann was the meaning of the word. I wandered through the house, following my nose 51

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instead of calling for her. Laney cooked the way some women cleaned—obsessively and with great skill. More often than not, one of us—the guys—or all, ended up in her house, raiding the fridge that never seemed to be short of food. I found her at her cutting board, slicing up leftover steak. Scrambled eggs sizzled in a pan and tortillas sat on a nearby plate, gently steaming. As I watched, she grabbed a bowl of cut up veggies and tossed them into the eggs. When I stepped in, she pointed at the pan with her knife without looking at me. "Lower the flame." I was across the room in a handful of steps and followed directions, lowering the blue fire until it was only warming the pan. She had me stir it a little more as she scraped the steak into the pan and mixed it up. A moment later, she turned the flame off completely and with her spatula moved the mix onto another plate. I was beginning to feel like part of the furniture or worse, like something that didn't even register on her radar anymore. My stomach flipped. I was losing more than just my best friend; I was losing the only family I'd ever really had. Dad gone when I was three and my mother passed when I was eighteen. Laney was my mother as far as I was concerned. If Tag left, I realized that Laney might not be quite so welcoming to me. Not when she figured out why Tag was leaving and I'd bet my left nut that she'd figure it out and fast. Or perhaps she would...but nothing would be the same. I would lose so much if Tag left. I had to stop him. But how? 52

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Laney washed her hands and finally turned to me, drying them on a towel. Setting it on the counter, she looked at me with eyes that were a few shades lighter than Tag's, and beginning to crinkle at the corners from the sun and smiling. She wasn't smiling now. Silence descended, filled with the scents of the food and a terrible sense of ending. I swallowed. "Laney..." I ran out of words. She was across the room in a second. I didn't even bother to dodge the slap. It rocked my face to the side and the world went sideways. Pain burst across my eyes and I squeezed them shut as my cheek screamed. I thought I tasted blood and licked my lips, not really startled to find them already partially numb. Laney slapped a bag of ice into my hand. "Put that on it while I make you a plate." I obeyed silently and watched her make two plates of heaping omelets. Handing me mine, she grabbed two bottles of orange juice, tucking one into the crook of her arm, before heading out into the garden. We made our way to the big oak and sat beneath it. She waited until I settled and handed me the bottle in her hand. She kept me waiting while she popped the top on hers and drank half of it down. I stared at the sundappled grass and ignored the way my cheek was beginning to burn even beneath the melting ice. "You know why I did it, right?" Laney's voice was low, still carrying the buzz of anger I'd felt in her slap. I stared at my plate, wanting to lie. But that wasn't why I was here. I raised my head and looked her in the eye. "I fucked up." 53

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"Yeah." Laney cut off a piece of omelet and ate it. "You did. With my son." There was a terse emphasis on the last part, making clear why she was mad. "How did you know?" The ice was becoming watery but I kept it pressed against my face. The skin of my cheek was almost hot and the pain was started to poke at me in aftershock. "The day after you got that big account?" I nodded to show I was listening. "He looked so upset. But he was practically floating too." She stared me down. "You're the only one who's ever caused that kind of contradiction in him. Adam was a good, solid boy who grew up into a good, practical man. You're the only one who's ever messed him up, Reese." It took a minute to line up her words, thrown off by the mention of Tag's real first name. I'd been the one to nickname him Tag but the reason for it was as faded as most of my childhood memories. I answered the only way I could. "I didn't know." Laney threw me a pitying look. It made my shoulders itch, like my skin was too tight. "Yes you did. My son has been carrying a torch for you since the day he dragged you home from school." I swallowed against the lump in my throat and belatedly noticed that the ice had become water. I set the bag on the grass and tried to remember how to breathe. "I can't...cross that line, Laney. He's the best friend I've got." If I even had him anymore. 54

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"Don't bullshit, Reese Hennessey. You think I don't remember the barbeque? I'm old, not senile." She bit into her omelet and frowned as she chewed. When she swallowed, she narrowed her eyes on me. "And if you tell anyone that I admitted to being old, I'll let Brad use your miserable ass as fertilizer." I choked on the laugh and didn't want to admit how sharp—like a sob—it sounded at the end. I wanted to crawl into a hole. I put my plate on the grass and raised my knees up so I could rest my head on them. My cheek ached faintly but the ice had numbed it enough so that it was uncomfortable rather than painful. "What the hell am I doing, Laney? We messed up once while drunker than sailors on shore leave. And then I tried to do it again. Sober. I couldn't even stop myself. I just..." My tongue grew stupid. This was the woman's son, after all. But one look at her face told me I'd get more than a slap if I stopped. I swallowed. "I want him, Laney. I want him so badly." Saying it aloud both terrified and relieved me. My heart pounded in my chest and I hugged my legs tightly. I don't know what I expected from her. Truly, I had nothing in my head, but whatever it could have been, it wasn't the gentle, maternal hand stroking through my hair. "And what's wrong with that, honey?" Laney's voice was as soft as the hand in my hair. I didn't even realize I was crying until the tear spilled across my lip, leaving a salty trail. "I feel like I'm betraying everyone. Kal with Tag, and Tag with Kal." I rubbed my face 55

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against my slacks, leaving moisture everywhere. I coughed to avoid sniffling like a child. It was bad enough that I couldn't stop the tears. I had to retain some dignity. "I want Tag. I love Kal." The hand in my hair transferred to my uninjured cheek and the touch brought my face to hers. The look in Laney's eyes was sympathetic...but direct. "It's been two years, Reese. This might be your mind telling you it's time to move on." Move on? Move on? I lurched away from her, heart beating like a wild thing behind my ribs. I couldn't figure out why I was so pissed, but the anger pulsed in me with the suddenness of a lightning strike. I was livid. "Move on? Who are you to tell me to move the fuck on? You, with your little boy toy gardener." I yelled the words at her and watched her face pale beneath her tan. "Are you going to tell me that he's your future? Tag's dad has been gone three years and I sure as hell don't think Brad counts as emotional advancement." Laney got to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. Her words, though, knocked me right off my self-righteous pedestal. "Damn, I knew I should have decked you." I choked on a burst of amusement and dragged my hand over my face, feeling like nine kinds of idiot. Her neighbors probably thought Laney had some lunatic in her backyard. "Oh God, Laney, I'm a mess." Laney sighed, her fists relaxing. "You're an idiot is what you are, Hennessey. Why don't you listen to your own instincts? They seem to be fine in regards to everyone else." 56

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She grabbed the plates and bottles before stalking into the house. I realized, a second too late, that she was hurt. I groaned. I was fucking up left and right. And damnit, my cheek was starting to hurt again. I jogged into the house and found her scraping the food into the garbage disposal with a knife. I didn't want to get too close to her while she was pissed off and wielding a sharp object, but I figured if she shanked me, I'd deserve it. I planted myself next to her. "I'm sorry, Laney. I had no right to judge you like that. How you handle your life is your business." She started scrubbing the plates viciously. "I was just trying to help you." "I know." "And then you go and start ranting about my damn life." She scrubbed harder. "I had twenty-five great years with David. Twenty-five fucking years. That's twenty-three more than you had with Kal." "I know, Laney, I know." But she kept on going. "I have a right to move on. Three years is long enough and I'm not getting any younger any time soon." The plates were sparkling clean. She still scrubbed at them. "Brad is wonderful. More than wonderful. And he can use his hips in ways that blow my mind." I winced. "Okay, seriously, Laney. I get it. I'm sorry." Not a second after I said those words, she stopped scrubbing. But her shoulders were shaking and everything clicked together. I forgot my own worries for a second and gently turned her from the sink. Tears were running down her face in a torrent. 57

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My heart stopped. "Laney... Mom, what happened?" "H-H... He asked me to marry him." Laney let the words out around a hiccup and threw her arms around me. She cried harder and I hugged her as tightly as I could, my mind spinning. "You said no?" Laney sobbed. "I said no." "Ah, Mom." I hugged her a little tighter and started rocking. "We're both a couple of dumbasses, eh?" She hiccuped. "H-He's not leaving. Said he'd give me time. He loves me, Reese." Laney tilted her head back and her wet face was a flashing montage of emotion—awe, sadness, horror, shock. "He loves me. And all I can think is that the last person who loved me, died. Cancer can hit anyone and I just don't know if I can do that again. I can't risk that kind of heartbreak again." Her words triggered something in me. Was I afraid to let go of Kal because I loved him, or because I was afraid of forgetting what could happen if I let myself love another and he died too? What would I do if I let myself love Tag? What would I do if he died? A little voice welled up, crawling through my doubts to whisper something hopeful. What if he lived? I jolted, hard enough to startle Laney. She blinked up at me, tears clumping her lashes together. She was still a beautiful woman, aging gracefully. It didn't seem right that fear should keep her single for the rest of her life. Not when someone was waiting to love her for as long as she'd let him. 58

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Tag's voice suddenly burst into my head. You'll hate me because I'm not Kal, and I'll hate you because you'll never love me. There was someone waiting for me too. Well, there had been. I stepped away from Laney and handed her the towel to wipe her eyes. I waited until she was done to speak. "I think we need to visit some very important people." She looked at me with wide, reddened eyes then nodded slowly. "I... you drive." I pulled my keys from my pocket and headed out of the kitchen. "Let's go." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Nine Tag With the decision made there didn't seem any point in hanging about, so I asked my assistant, Alex, to make flight and hotel reservations for me and headed out, after letting Vann and Elliot know my plans. Elliot was still looking somewhat bewildered, and Vann was still wearing that concerned expression, and damnit, if I could fix this whole mess just to remove that worry from his eyes, I would. I went home and packed then left for the airport when Alex emailed me the details of my flight and my reservation at the Peninsula. The flight was less than three hours, and I was glad of that. I wanted to be close enough that I could visit Mom on a fairly regular basis—I didn't know how I was going to tell her that I was moving away. It was just another weight on my chest, and shit, it was getting hard to breathe. I was utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The last few days had been like an extreme rollercoaster ride, and I was starting to feel permanently off balance. When I checked into the hotel and was shown to a suite elegantly decorated in creams and golds, I called Arthur Lanscome and arranged a meeting with him for the following morning. With the rest of the day stretching out in front of me, I decided I wasn't going to sit around the hotel to let my mind run the last few days over and over on an endless loop. 60

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Instead, I determined to get out for a while, find some distraction in the city. Unpacking quickly, I stripped and headed for the huge walk-in shower. The warm water loosened my tight muscles and gradually sloughed off the tension I had been carrying around, along with the grime of the day. I rested my forehead against the cool tile and let the water beat down on my shoulders like a massage. The first few tears went unnoticed, blending with the water. It was only when I tasted salt on my lips that I realized I was crying. I didn't even try to stop, but instead let the tears flow freely, let the sobs wrack my body, let my knees give out until I was sitting with my knees drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around them, crying like a baby with the warm water still beating down on me. I don't know how long I stayed there, but when I finally pulled myself together, shut off the shower and grabbed a towel, I was so drained that I barely had the energy to dry myself. I stumbled through to the bedroom and dropped onto the bed like a dead weight. I was asleep between one blink and the next, but it was a far from restful sleep, dreams filled with loss, pain and regret. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Ten Reese We pulled into the parking lot of Harmony Cemetery around three. The afternoon sun left the air warm so I didn't bother grabbing my jacket. Hands in pockets, Laney and I left the car and walked silently up the cobbled pathway into the cemetery. Tombstones sat stoically in the shade, while here and there, the groundskeepers mowed the grass or trimmed the trees. There weren't that many people outside of them. A woman in black caressed the wording on a statue of an angel down one row on the right. Two sections to the side, close to the surrounding wrought iron fence, a man sat against the wall, rolling a rose between his palms while staring down at the ground. He looked like he was sleeping, his eyes closed tight. I turned my gaze away when he started shaking. Grief was entitled to privacy. We were passing a set of older tombstones when Laney paused and touched my arm. I didn't have to look—I remembered this spot. I nodded to her and tilted my head further down. She nodded but was already turning away, heading to David's plot. I watched her sink onto her knees, made sure she wasn't going to crumple again, then kept walking. A bird whistled somewhere in the distance, a plaintive call that made my skin chill unexpectedly. I wasn't a fan of cemeteries. Not so much for the morbidity of death preserved, but for the touch of loneliness that seemed to 62

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permeate the air, wrapped in the scent of flowers left from the living in homage to the dead. I walked until Kal's tombstone loomed before me, sitting in a space a bit separate from the rest, shaded by an aging weeping willow. I had planned to stand, to face my past on two feet but my knees wobbled and I found myself on my knees before I could blink. I pressed trembling fingers to the inscription and mouthed the familiar words as I traced them. Kalvin Bingham ~ Lover ~ Brother ~ Son ~ September 20, 1983 ~ June 5, 2007 I swallowed hard and flattened my fingers against the words. When I was sure I could breathe, I started talking. The entire way here, I'd been working on sheer gut instinct. I'd had no idea what I'd do once we hit the cemetery, or if I'd even be able to do anything. But here, kneeling in a crush of soft grass before Kal's tombstone, I talked. I told Kal that I missed him, that the world was darker without his smile. I told him that even after two years, I would still see something that would make him laugh and how much I ached to share it with him. I told him how the agency was flourishing and about the Chicago expansion. I told him about Laney and Brad. Then I took a deep breath and started talking about Tag. I don't know how long I sat there, telling Kal about how Tag had kept me sane when Kal had passed. I told him—delicately—how much closer Tag and I had become, then how far we'd fallen apart. I told him the truth behind the Chicago expansion and felt my throat clog until I couldn't speak for a long, long moment. 63

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A gentle hand on my shoulder, Laney I guessed, helped me go on. "The truth though, Kal...is that I can't let him go. I can't walk away without trying to fight. And I realized I've been holding onto you so tightly that I haven't had a spot left for someone else. Not even for myself." I shuddered with a hard swell of emotion. The hand on my shoulder squeezed. "I love you, Kal. I love you and I miss you so damn much. But I have to let you go now. I have to go back to the living." The hand pressed against my cheek then slid away. I turned to look at Laney, to let her know I was okay...but no one was there. Wide-eyed, I looked back at the tombstone then touched my cheek. Chills shot up my spine—a mixture of fear, awe, and relief. I touched the cool stone and leaned my head against it one last time. "Thanks." "Reese?" I turned at my name and found Laney walking toward me, looking concerned. "Baby, are you okay?" I came to my feet and met her halfway. Tilting her face up, I noted the new tear tracks and the tired lines around her mouth, but there was a peace in her eyes, one that I felt spreading through me. "Are you?" I replied. Laney nodded slowly. "I said goodbye," she said simply. "And this will sound weird and someone will probably lock me up finally, but I swear to you Reese, I swear, I heard David say goodbye back." I couldn't resist one more look at Kal's tombstone. I touched my cheek again. "I understand that better than you'd think." She went wide-eyed and a little pale around the edges. "You...did Kal..." 64

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I shrugged and tried not to shiver myself. "You know, let's just say that I think I got his okay too." I started us walking, grabbing her hand the way I used to when I was younger. She squeezed. We didn't speak until we were back in the car, headed to her house. Laney started it. "Vann called me; he told me about Chicago. Said that Tag decided to go ahead and leave early." She looked at her watch and then at me. "He should be there by now—it's only a three hour flight." I dug my fingers into the steering wheel then breathed. "I have no idea what I'm going to say to him." This time I knew the hand on my cheek was Laney's. "Honey, the fact that you're even headed out there will be a damn good start." I parked and leaned into her palm. "He has every right to give up on me, Laney." She patted my cheek then unbuckled her seatbelt. "Then give him a reason to keep holding on." She looked out the window and we both spotted Brad. He had the lawnmower out and was on the far side of the yard. The mower hummed but he just stood there, staring back at us. No, staring at Laney. The love on his face was right there for the whole world to see. Laney seemed frozen at the door, staring back at him. Before I could do anything to encourage her though, Laney took a deep breath then climbed out. I watched her walk across the lawn, head held high. When she reached him, I waited. Hoped. Brad looked down at her and waited too. Laney stretched up on her toes, her hand balanced on his shoulder, and put 65

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her lips to his ear. I couldn't hear them but the relieved look on his face followed by the sweet smile said it all. I saluted him, got a dazed, grateful smile in return and pulled away, fishing my cell from my pocket and pointing my car to the freeway. To the airport. To Tag. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eleven Tag It was nearly eight when I finally woke, eyes gritty and head throbbing. I stumbled out of bed, pulled on a thick white terry cloth robe with the hotel crest on it, and wandered over to the window. It was still light out; a pleasantly warm June evening. I thought about getting dressed and heading out for a while, maybe going to a bar or a club, but it didn't feel worth the effort, so I just called room service instead and asked them to send up a club sandwich and a beer. But even though I hadn't eaten since Mom's the night before, I had no real appetite. I could feel a blue funk descending on me and knew I would have to shake it off before it got a grip, but right then my energy level was zero—it took everything I had to walk to the door when room service knocked. "Well, that was fast." I mustered up a smile as I opened the door, but it froze on my lips when I saw Reese, frowning in confusion. "You're not room service." "Uh, no...no I'm not." There was a long, strained silence as we just looked at each other. Reese was looking a little rumpled, his hair disheveled, his shirt creased. He was still the best looking thing I'd ever laid eyes on, and my body apparently agreed as it started to react to his presence. I straightened up and tightened my grip on the door. "What are you doing here, Reese?" 67

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He lowered his head and gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, before lifting his eyes to meet mine again. "Hoping for a second chance?" A gasp escaped me and warmth flared in my chest, but I quickly tamped it down. No, no, no, I couldn't... I couldn't afford to hope. A tremor ran through my body and I shoved my hands into the pockets of the robe to hide the way they were trembling. "Reese, I...I don't..." I could only shake my head as my voice failed me, and unable to look at him any longer, I turned back into the room. The click of the door closing was like a gunshot in the quiet room. "I know that I don't have the right to ask this of you, after what I've put you through, but will you give me a chance to try to explain?" He spoke quietly, and there was a pleading note in his voice that I wouldn't have been able to deny if my life had depended on it. I nodded, perching stiffly on the arm of the sofa. For a couple of minutes he said nothing, but paced the floor a few feet away from me as if gathering his thoughts. When he finally broke the silence I was so tightly wound that I flinched. "When I lost Kal I wanted to just curl up into a ball and disappear. I didn't know anything could hurt so much. I didn't know how I was going to carry on when every breath I took was such an effort. For a while there I honestly didn't think I would make it, but I had these friends who refused to let me give up, who kept me anchored to this world, whether I wanted it or not." I heard the smile in his voice, but I couldn't 68

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return it. The memory of watching Reese collapse in on himself like a dying star was still too raw for me to find any humor in his words. "You guys pulled me back from the brink, Tag. I don't think you know what a close call it really was. Then, every day you were there to remind me that I still had reasons to go on. Vann and Elliot were great, but they didn't push me the way you did. You forced me out of the shell I had built around myself. You wouldn't let me bury myself in work, or sit at home every night feeling sorry for myself. You dragged me out to clubs and the theatre and to art exhibits that I knew you hated every minute of, but you did it for me. You helped me find my way back to life again." He stopped pacing and came to sit on the coffee table in front of me. His fingers twitched like he wanted to touch me, but he laced them together tightly instead. "But it was always there at the back of my mind, the pain of loss. It scared me, so I held onto it, used it like a talisman to keep the world at arm's length. I thought that if I held onto the pain and fear it would stop me from feeling again—that somehow it would stop me from ever having to go through anything like that again. But the irony is in trying to avoid the pain of loss, I'm actually losing more than I could have imagined." He slowly reached out and laid a hand on my knee. "I've always known that you're my best friend, Tag, but what I've been trying so desperately to deny is that you are more. So much more."

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He swam before me as tears filled my eyes. I wanted to believe him—dear God, I wanted it so badly, but I was so fuckin' scared. "Do you love me, Tag?" He moved until he was kneeling in front of me, and one hand came up to cup my cheek. "Don't, Reese, please." I closed my eyes, but not before a fat tear had rolled down my cheek. He wiped it away with aching tenderness. "Do you love me, Tag?" he asked again, and I shook my head. "Reese..." It was more of a sob than a recognizable word. His other hand came up to bracket my face. "Because I love you, and I'm really hoping that you won't leave me hanging here on my own." "I'm not Kal." I just couldn't bring myself to open my eyes and look at him, afraid of what I might see there, even more afraid of what I might not see. "No, you're not, and I wouldn't want you to be. I loved Kal and a part of my heart will always be his, but I love you too. I love your sense of humor and that goofy smile you get when you kick my ass on the Playstation. I love the way you think you can dance when you really, really can't." He laughed and pushed my bangs back from my forehead. "I love the way you can be bouncing around like a sugar-high five year old one minute, and the next you can be all serious businessman. But most of all, I love that huge heart of yours, the way you love completely and unconditionally, and you put everyone before yourself." 70

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I had to know; I had to see. I opened my eyes, and Reese was watching me so intently, with so much truth in his blue eyes that it took my breath away. "Do you love me, Tag?" It was barely more than a whisper this time, and I found myself nodding before I even knew it. "Yes, I love you, I love you." He smiled, and his own eyes were looking suspiciously shiny. "Thank God," he muttered, right before he touched his lips to mine. It was like tinder to dry wood. Pleasure lanced through my body at the light caress, and my brain screamed more, more, more. I slid from the sofa until I was kneeling before him, my hands clutching at his shoulders, pressing by body against his as I sought to deepen the kiss. His mouth opened under mine, and at the first touch of tongue on tongue, my cock lifted and filled. Jesus, he tasted so good. I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him— his taste, his touch, and his smell—even after a morning at the office and a three hour flight he smelled so fuckin' right. A knock at the door jolted us apart. "What..." Reese looked as disoriented as I felt. I shook my head and blinked a couple of times before I remembered. "Room service. I ordered dinner." "Are you hungry?" His pupils were blown, cheeks flushed. My eyes dropped to his mouth, lush and kiss swollen. "I'm fuckin' starving here." Reese grinned, a predatory, hotter than hell expression, and right before he tumbled me to the carpet he shouted, "Leave it outside the door." 71

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There was nothing tender or gentle that first time. The knowledge that there would be time for that later was so intensely arousing I found myself struggling not to come just at the thought of it. As Reese pushed aside my bathrobe and trailed kisses over my throat and down my chest, I tore at his shirt, heedless of the ping of buttons popping in my haste. He worked his way down my body and I spread my legs to make room for him, all the while arching my spine and moaning at the feel of his mouth sucking on my nipples, his tongue dipping into my belly button, teeth tugging at the line of hair that led from my navel to my dick. When he took the tip of my cock into his mouth my hips jerked and a ragged moan was torn from me. I clutched at the carpet with one hand and Reese's hair with the other, wrapping my legs around him to pull him as close as physically possible. He swirled his tongue teasingly before dipping into the tip into my slit. "Jesus, fuck, Reese, I'm... oh my God... I'm not gonna last here." I hardly recognized the gravel rough voice as my own. I actually felt him smile around my dick, and somewhere in my befuddled brain I vowed to make him pay for that later. He pulled off with an obscene slurping sound. "Hair trigger, buddy?" "Fuck you, Hennessy," I growled, tugging his hair to get his mouth back on my dick where it belonged. "How about I fuck you instead?" Without warning he pushed one finger into my hole, dry and deep. 72

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I think I might actually have blacked out for a split-second. Pleasure chased through my veins, and my pulse picked up to a level that couldn't have been healthy. "Do it," I demanded, spreading my legs wider and reaching for his belt with shaking fingers. "Do it now." Reese reared back on his knees and tugged impatiently at his belt until it finally gave way. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed them and his boxer briefs out of the way, finally letting me see his hard, leaking cock. "So fuckin' beautiful." I wrapped one hand around his straining hardness and squeezed. Reese muttered a curse as his head fell back, mouth slack. "C'mon, I want you in me, I want you now." Reese fumbled in the pocket of his pants for a minute, pulled out his wallet and retrieved a condom before tossing the wallet aside. His hands were shaking as much as mine as he tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. "We should... lube..." He looked around him with a slightly dazed expression as if he just expected a tube of KY to suddenly appear. I quickly spit into my palm and used it to lube him up. "Now, Reese." With only the slightest of hesitations, Reese lowered himself until he was pressed against me and I could feel him pushing into me. It burned a little at first, the lack of lube and prep, but pretty soon I was flying with the knowledge that this was Reese in me. He was mine, really mine, and I was his. 73

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We moved in unison, Reese thrusting in as I raised my hips to meet him. My dick throbbed and my heart pounded. My skin felt too tight for my body and the edges of my vision started to grey out with the onslaught of pleasure. "Oh, fuck, Tag, you feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me." Reese braced his arms on either side on me, leaned over to kiss me as he pounded my body. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto mine and the room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the slap of wet skin. "Yeah, Reese, so good." I strained against him, and when he wrapped his hand around my cock, it took just one stroke for me to explode. I shot so long and hard that I thought I might actually pass out, and just when I thought I couldn't give up another drop, Reese froze over me, his body tight as a drawn bow as he filled the condom. As my contracting muscles milked him, I realized I wasn't quite finished. I hadn't come so hard and so long in my life. Apparently as wiped as me, Reese collapsed on top of me, burying his face into my neck. He was no lightweight, but I was happy to have him rest there as I wrapped my arms around him. Eventually we were able to muster up enough energy to get up from the floor and move to the bed. I dropped my robe and slid under the sheets, watching Reese undress completely before he got in next to me. He had an almost beatific smile on his face as he trailed his fingers over my eyebrows, down my nose and over my lips. I think I might have blushed at the naked adoration I saw in his eyes. 74

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"So, this meeting with Lanscome, you think I should cancel?" Our legs were tangled together, and I was so comfortable and sated that I was a couple of blinks away from sleep. "How about we both keep it? Elliot and Vann can take over at home for a bit, and we can stay here." His voice was quiet, movements languid. I smiled. "I like that idea." A chance for us to establish us, away from well-meaning interference and past heartache. A grin filled with mischief curled Reese's mouth. "Of course, we'll have to go back for the wedding." "Wedding? What wedding?" I frowned in confusion, but something in Reese's expression made me gasp. "No way! Are you kidding me? Mom and Brad?" Reese's laughter filled the room, and it was such a beautiful sound that I couldn't help responding to it. "I'm going to have a new Daddy!" We laughed until my sides ached and Reese had tears in his eyes. It was the best sight in the world, those tears of joy, after all the pain he had suffered. As the laughter drifted off I hugged him to me and felt his arms tighten around me. I lifted a hand to dry his tears, and when he kissed my palm I shivered. I don't know how I got so lucky, but I swore then that I would never give Reese cause to regret taking a chance on me. The End **** 75

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Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

cassidyryanwrites.tripod.com **** Author Bio Cassidy Ryan lives and works in Glasgow, Scotland. When not writing, she enjoys reading, the cinema, music and watching football (soccer to our friends across the pond). She also loves British sit-coms from the 70s, and American cop shows—also from the 70s. Red Rose Publishing Interlude Interlude 2 Pain Management Interlude 3-coming A Valentine Interlude Torquere Press Sleeping with the Past (Novel available in ebook and print formats) Several short stories: Have a Little Faith, What the Heart Wants, Best of Enemies, To Have & To Hold and The Gift of Love. Shorts in anthologies: Taste Test Spring Fling, Taste Test Chocolate & Power Tools 2, Taste Test The Boy Next Door and Another Fine Mess. Novelettes: Fortune's Favor, Cry Wolf, For Love of Laura and A Family Secret. Novella: In My Skin (Due on 21st February). 77

Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

Total-e-bound Bound Brits anthology (available in ebook and print formats) MLR Press Short story in the I Do! anthology (Co-written with Zoe Nichols) (available in ebook and print formats) **** www.zoe-nichols.com Author Bio: Zoe Nichols is a writer of manlove and homoerotica. That's the current life. Background wise? At some point in time, she realized that she liked writing. That's when she discovered romance and the almighty Happily Ever After ending. Then she discovered alternative lifestyles and the much more entertaining Happy For Now ending. Which means now she writes gay and lesbian erotic fiction and those boys and girls are happy as can be when she gives them what they want. She graduated high school, dodged college, moved out to Vegas, discovered that rent, bills and tourists do not mix and moved back to California. Now, Zoe is reconsidering the call of higher education while she writes happily for hours on end and pretends that the Day Job doesn't exist (at least until pay day). **** Torquere Press: Asher and the Elevator Romp 78

Pain Management by Cassidy Ryan

Asher and the Threesome Beloved (in the Toy Box: Collars compilation) Peep Show (in the Day at the Beach Taste Test compilation) Sinful (in the Horns and Halos Taste Test compilation) As Good As It Gets I Take Thee Bad Dog Wunderkind (in the Fringe Benefits anthology) Magdalena Unreal Heated (in the Toy Box: Oil compilation) Phaze Books: Lost If Only You Knew (in the Coming Together: At Last anthology) Cobblestone Press: Mr. Fantasy MLR Press Better Than Beautiful (co-written with Cassidy Ryan, in the I Do! anthology)

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