Not Even A Mouse Page 7

  “I get to take her home.” Terror made his voice high and wispy, and he watched Myron’s expression soften in response.

  “Yeah. Talya’ll be excited to sleep in her own bed.” Myron’s hand wrapped around his and Andy held on tight, as he did every time. “I think the novelty of the hospital bed wore off a couple of days ago.”

  “Come home with us.” He blurted the words, less of a question and more a demand, and snapped his mouth shut immediately. “I mean…I’m just…” His voice trailed off as chin down, he studied the pattern of the waiting room carpet, tracing memorized lines back and forth. “What if it happens again?”

  “It’s not gonna happen.” Myron’s words were as firm as the wall the man erected between them whenever any of his friends were around. Sturdy and composed, he’d not given one single indication that being here meant to him what it did Andy. But he’s here. That’s what he kept telling himself. Myron was here, and he’d been here since Andy called. He came.

  “What if it does?” He just couldn’t shake the fear. He repeated his thoughts, sharing them in a whisper, “She almost died, Myron.”

  “But, she didn’t.” Myron leaned closer, and Andy felt the heat from his hand as it skimmed up his arm, coming to rest against the side of his neck. “She won’t.” Myron shook him gently, that tiny knowing smile staying in place the whole time. “She’s going to be fine, Andy.”

  He stared into Myron’s eyes, willing him to understand how terrifying it was to be alone in this. To be the sole person responsible for such a precious human being. Please. Myron used his hold on Andy’s neck to pull him closer, resting their foreheads together. Please don’t leave me alone.

  “I’ll follow you home. Stick around for a bit, if that’s what you need. We’re friends.” That drove a startling dagger through Andy’s gut. It was unexpected, and after Myron’s presence through this, seemed to minimize what Andy felt. Myron’s gaze locked on Andy’s, eyes searching. After a moment, the corners of his mouth tilted up, and Myron shook his head. His next words set Andy’s world back to rights, laying the foundation for something more. “But that’s not why. I wanna be with you not because you need me, but because I want to be what you need.”

  Andy nodded and took a shuddering breath. Myron’s hair brushed against the side of his face like a caress. They stood like that for a moment until Myron broke the stillness by angling his head forwards, lips brushing across Andy’s. God.

  “I do need you. Thank you.” I could kiss you again right now, right here. The impulse was overwhelming, and as if he read Andy’s intent, Myron broke away, pulling his ever-present phone from the front pocket of his jeans. He understood why when he heard booming laughter in the hallway, and recognized the voice of one of Myron’s friends. Of course, they can’t really know. It didn’t matter that most had already guessed. As long as they kept the PDA to a minimum in front of his friends, Myron could continue to deny anything was happening between them. A sharp pain bloomed in Andy’s chest, and he shoved it away, tucking it into a back corner to examine later. Talya’s coming home. He closed his eyes, letting Myron’s certainty that she was going to be okay cover him like a blanket. Myron’s coming home. “Thank you,” he repeated on a whisper and, even though he didn’t understand the subtext, Myron rewarded him with a crooked, sideways smile that lit up his insides in a way that didn’t say friends. I’m in so much trouble.

  Wishes and dreams

  Myron

  He heard the jangle of keys as the back door opened and called, “Hey there,” careful to keep his voice quiet, “she’s asleep.” Myron twisted to look over the back of the couch towards the kitchen, waiting for his first sight of Andy. “How was work?”

  This was day three of being in Andy’s house, and as he ate a dinner of macaroni and cheese accompanied by cartoons earlier, it had struck Myron how domestic this was, him hanging out at home with a still recovering Talya while Andy worked his shift at the bar. I could totally get used to this.

  Over the past couple of days, he’d let himself fall farther into the world of make believe they’d entered when he’d followed Andy’s car back here. A world where he was a permanent part of their lives. A world where it was normal and expected that he’d still be up when Andy got home from work, waiting. A world unlike anything he’d ever had before. A home and partner, complete with a beautiful, little girl.

  Myron shook his head sharply, trying to unseat the fantasy. You sleep on the couch, remember?

  So far, they hadn’t gone back to teasing and flirting. With things so tenuous with Talya, Andy was on guard all the time and that alone wasn’t conducive to the mood. In fact, they were in a weird place. Not boyfriends, not lovers. Just friends. And maybe because I kinda feel like a live-in babysitter? He squashed the thought. I don’t want that, he admitted. I want more. Maybe I just need to show him.

  “Not bad. We were busy with an office party, which always makes the night go fast. Thanksgiving, you know?” Andy was talking as he walked into the room, barefoot which meant his shoes were lined up neatly near the door that led to the garage. Beside Myron’s boots. Domestic. “How was she?” Andy stood near the back of the couch, looking down.

  Determined to shake things up, see where they might be after this was done, Myron reached up, traced a touch down Andy’s arm and threaded their fingers together. Startled, Andy blinked at him and then his expression warmed, and he dipped to press his mouth against Myron’s, humming happily when Myron stroked the tip of his tongue across the seam of his lips. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” Andy pulled back a fraction of an inch, still so close Myron felt the breath used to compose the words when he asked, “Did you eat?”

  With a grin, Myron lunged up and snaked his arms around Andy’s shoulders and waist. He tugged, overbalancing and pulling Andy over the back of the couch and on top of him with a muffled shout. He slid to the side at the last moment, so Andy’s weight mostly hit the cushions. “She’s fine.” He angled an arm under Andy’s neck, pulling him closer. “And yes, I ate. Did you?”

  “You have something in mind for me to eat?” Andy’s eyebrows waggled suggestively, and Myron chuckled. “I’m feeling a little peckish. I could—” He leaned in and nipped Myron’s lobe before sucking on it. “—be convinced to nibble on something.” Teeth grazed along his throat, and Myron arched his neck, letting Andy access the sensitive spots, groaning at the tease of a hot mouth dragging along the side of his throat. “Oh, yeah, babe. I could definitely eat.”

  The playful lilt to his voice jolted Myron’s heart, making it thud along like a cold bike engine. This, this right here. This is what I want. The knowledge slotted into place with a resounding click in his head. This was everything wound round Myron’s fantasies, and an unnamed heart’s desire come to life. This man, a partner he could love.

  What the fuck?

  Andy pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

  Myron swallowed and forced a smile. “Nothing.” Love?

  Andy studied him for a moment, eyebrows bunched together as his gaze slowly swept Myron’s face. He shifted so he was more fully against the back of the couch, pushing into the cushions as he placed his hand at Myron’s waist. “You know I want you here, right? You aren’t just a convenience to me. Not a babysitter.”

  The echo of his earlier thoughts poked at him. He couldn’t forget how damn smart Andy was; it wouldn’t do to underestimate him. Myron blinked. “I didn’t think that at all.” He’d been propped up on an elbow and let it slide out from under his head slowly, putting his face on a level with Andy’s. “I was somewhere else in my head.”

  “Where?” Andy scooted a tiny bit closer, but still not the full-body contact Myron needed.

  Do I tell him? He could either come clean or spin a yarn. Is this a possibility for me? Can I have…him? “This…” His voice trailed off, and Andy scooted closer, thighs pressing together now. “I was thinking this was something I didn’t know I wanted.” Andy gave a wiggle, and Myron felt t
he press of a hardening cock against his hip. “I never let myself dream of anything this good, because wishes and dreams aren’t…productive.” Fingers tugged at his shirt, and Myron lifted, letting it slide over his head and off. “You walked in and I realized if I’d let myself dream, I’d have dreamed of you.”

  Andy’s lips pursed, the bottom lip bowing down sweetly, and he leaned closer, his hand sliding up Myron’s chest to his neck. With a tight grip, he edged closer and then his mouth was on Myron’s. Unlike any of their other kisses, this one felt poignant and tender, as if Andy was reacquainting himself with something he remembered liking, teasing and touching until Myron was panting. “I’m never gonna let you go now, beautiful man.” Myron nipped that bottom lip, making Andy pull in a quick breath. “I’m not kidding, Myron. I’m gonna hold you, and I won’t let you forget this is your dream. Because, babe, you’re my dream, too.”

  Myron spread his fingers across Andy’s chest, curving them so his nails dug in, dragging down to his belly, knowing Andy’s shirt would blunt the pain. It still drew a gasp and a shiver from the man in his arms. Andy lifted on an elbow, leaning over Myron and rocking his hips to press his hard cock against Myron’s leg. He raised his chin and Andy bent to him, mouth descending to his where it took possession, owning his lips and teeth and tongue in a dance drawn together by breath and need.

  Myron loved kissing Andy. Loved how into it the man could get, how lost they would be within moments of first contact. Andy sprawled on him like this sent his senses into overdrive, to a place where he heard every brush of fabric, the scrape of fingertips as they slid across skin. In the distance, he heard a little girl’s cough. Andy immediately tensed and broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against Myron’s.

  “Come to my bedroom.” Not a request, this demand left no question about what Andy wanted. Myron had stayed on the couch these past few nights, not wanting to disturb the sanctity of the master bedroom, and not certain of where he and Andy were, not enough to try and push his way into Andy’s bed. Tonight, though, it felt like the right thing.

  He nodded, and Andy’s breath whooshed over his lips. They hadn’t talked about Roger beyond a few brief words at the hospital, and there was so much for Myron to learn, but for now—this was enough.

  Unka Myron

  Andy

  He lay on his side and watched Myron sleep, grinning at how the man spread out, arms and legs angled so he took over the whole bed. Not that there’s much bed here. He considered the idiocy of sleeping in the guest room when there was a perfectly serviceable master, not for the first time. Other than marking it off the list of chores when he needed to go in and dust or vacuum, he ignored that space. I hate this house. It had been Roger’s, and in so many ways remained his dead partner’s home. Once past the furious activity following Roger’s death, Andy never cared much to make his mark on something that he’d never wanted.

  It had been a home for Talya, and a safe space where she could hold onto her memories of her daddy. But these days, when she no longer objected to Myron sitting beside Andy at the dining room table, it made Andy think it might be time to move on. Yesterday at lunch, she’d pulled tears to Andy’s eyes by patting the seat as she walked around the table, telling Myron, “Sit here, Unka Myron.” Uncle Myron, gah. Myron had grinned broadly, playing the gentleman by helping her climb into her seat first.

  We need to make a place for us.

  Myron contracted his spread appendages and rolled, and Andy took the opportunity to snuggle in behind him. He wrapped his arms around Myron’s chest, resting his head against one shoulder blade. Maybe it’s time? He pressed a kiss to the back of Myron’s neck, darting his tongue out to graze a quick lick across his skin, still salty. The room smelled like them, like the hot and heavy make-out session they’d had earlier. I like that it smells like him.

  Right after Roger died, Andy had managed a few nights of unsettled sleep in the master bedroom. Once the immediate exhaustion of grief wore away, however, he found the space filled with so many emotions he wanted to avoid. He’d been overwhelmed with anger and regret, because he knew he hadn’t loved Roger like he could have. Should have. They’d been a couple of friends who got along well enough, hearts tied together by their little princess. That was one of the things that kept tripping him up now, the feeling that this—what he had with Myron—was richer than anything he’d had with Roger. After these weeks building things with Myron, he couldn’t imagine going back to the poor fare his life with Roger had been.

  It was like Myron was a buffet, full of flavors and rich sauces around every corner. The way the man took care of Andy and Talya was humbling. He’d essentially moved in, not because Andy had asked him, but because he saw a need. Slept on the couch until tonight, when Andy had woken from his freak-out haze and finally asked. Myron hadn’t pushed, just made sure Andy and Talya were taken care of. Sure, Andy could have arranged care for Talya, piecing shifts-worth of coverage that would get them by until she could go back to school. That hadn’t been enough for Myron though, so he’d gone all in, even having some of his friends do basic shopping for them. Andy had come home to a truck and two bikes in the driveway that first night, rushing inside with his heart in his throat to find them packing away the last of the groceries. Myron had seen a need and worked to fill it. He’s gonna keep doing that for me…for us.

  Myron shifted, and Andy moved with him, loving how all of Myron’s muscles and strength were subdued by sleep, like he was recharging by resting here in bed with him. Myron was always on the move, always busy, so seeing him like this was a luxury. I can have this every night. He readjusted, draping himself all along Myron’s back, grinning to himself when Myron’s ass wiggled backwards, seeking contact even in his sleep.

  It’s time, was his last thought before sleep claimed him.

  ***

  Myron

  “Can we talk?” Andy’s words surprised Myron and he twisted to see him standing in the kitchen doorway. It was Talya’s first day back at school, and they hadn’t discussed it, but Myron knew his time here was winding down.

  One week, with four glorious nights sleeping beside this man. Well, not so much sleeping. He wasn’t looking forwards to rejoining the rest of the world, and that was exactly what this talk signaled. Still, it would be good to know where things stood between them.

  “Okay,” he said easily and turned, dropping the dishrag over the divider between the sinks.

  Andy strolled towards him, only stopping when he was close enough to touch. He reached out and hooked a finger in Myron’s pocket, tugging so his back arched and hips pressed into Andy’s.

  “I hate this house.” Myron blinked, surprised and unable to find any words to use for a response. Andy continued, “I want to tell you why.” Okay, that made more sense.

  Andy slipped his hand down to Myron’s, fingers threading through as he tugged, leading Myron towards the couch in the other room. He sat and pulled Myron down beside him, waiting until everything was arranged as he wanted before he began.

  “Roger was a good man.” Andy sighed. “That sounds so…trite. Like something anyone would say. ‘He’s a good man.’ But it describes him. He was. We…fell into a relationship.” He sighed again. “It wasn’t extraordinary. It wasn’t heaven on earth. It was good. Talya made us better together, and she loved us both.”

  “Did he love you?” How in the hell will I ever measure up against a dead guy? Myron had been dreading having this knowledge, understanding who Andy had been attracted to before. Maybe that was why he’d been okay with not talking about it.

  “I’d like to think he did, but I don’t know.” Eyes narrowed, Myron studied Andy.

  He was serious. That man, the Roger who had shared a life and a daughter with Andy, may have been good, but it definitely hadn’t been good enough. Carefully Myron said, “If you love someone, you tend to let them know.”

  Andy shifted beside him and Myron felt a touch on his chin, Andy’s fingers turning his face so they sta
red at the other. They sat like that for a moment, uncertainty stirring Myron’s insides.

  “You’re right. If you love someone, your actions speak for you, even if your words don’t.” A soft touch brushed across Myron’s lips, then back again, mesmerizing in its regularity. “Like being ready to out yourself because they need you.”

  “I don’t—” Andy’s thumb pressed against his lips, halting his words. I don’t love him. His insides gave that quiver again from earlier. Do I?

  “There’s a lot I want to say. About Roger. This house.” Andy leaned in, fingers holding Myron’s chin steady as he placed a series of soft kisses on his lips. The rasp of scruff against his lips and chin had Myron’s cock waking up. Sitting beside him like this, so close he was nearly on Andy’s lap, it reminded him of how it felt to be wrapped up by Andy. Weight and pressure, arms and hands holding him tight, all he could do was take in air, and even that was laced with Andy’s scent. “And about us. All of it good.”

  Myron let the silence build between them for a few seconds, willing his erection away as he waited. Then he took a breath, centered himself as he would when approaching a negotiation with another club, and said, “Tell me what you want me to know.” The rest could wait.

  They had time.

  The right guy

  Myron

  “I like it.” He stood in the empty living room, already envisioning how it would look filled with the comfortable, slouchy, kid-friendly furniture he had in mind. The real estate agent, the older sister to one of their long-time members, Tequila, grinned up at him. He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dianita. I’m going to buy it if we can come to an agreement.”

  She grinned fiercely. “I knew it.” Offering a high five, she said, “Oh, we’ll come to an agreement. The sellers are motivated. When you told me what you wanted and the timeframe, and as always, your demands were so detailed, I knew it had to be this one.”