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“No way.”
“Yeah, way,” I said. “It’s just the other stuff that’s scary.”
“This stuff?” he said softly, running his open palm along the hair on my chest. “I think this part is just as good, if you want the truth.”
I sighed, reaching for his forearm and letting my hand run along it. “Of course it’s just as good. It’s blowing my fucking mind, Sawyer. I could be here forever.”
“So what’s scaring you, then?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Being with someone again,” I finally said. “Like this.”
He turned to look at me from the side, furrowing his brow. “You’ve had your fair share of action in the last few years.”
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “But those people weren’t you. There’s been no one since Thomas that really had my heart. Hookups, flings, whatever. But was my whole heart in any of them? Not a chance.”
He hummed deeply and reached up a hand to run his fingers through my hair. “So you’re saying I have your whole heart, huh?”
“Fuck off,” I told him, giving him a gentle body shove. “Making me blush after I just had your cock in my throat?”
He looked back down again and leaned his head on my chest. I could tell he was getting sleepy. “I like making you blush. It isn’t easy.”
“Damn right,” I said. “And yes, by the way. I am saying you have my whole heart. But don’t get cocky about it, all right? You already have had my heart, for many years.”
“Too late. Already cocky.”
He hummed and moved around, bringing more of the sheets up around his neck and cozying in. Christ, he was too perfect.
“Well then I guess I love a cocky bastard,” I said softly.
“You know I love you, too,” he murmured.
By the way he said it, I could hear that he was already most of the way to being asleep. Sawyer had always been the better sleeper of the two of us, able to nod off within less than a minute and happily sleep like a log all night. I’d always been a restless sleeper, waking up to any little sound and sometimes taking well over an hour or two to fall asleep.
He was breathing evenly now, sleeping peacefully at my side. For some reason it felt like some small victory in my mind. Anything that didn’t involve Sawyer getting grossed out after sucking my dick probably would have felt like a victory, honestly. I was so conditioned to think that he was straight, and his recent sexual exploration still surprised me, every time.
As Sawyer’s breathing deepened, I knew he was in for a long night of sleep. Meanwhile, my own mind raced faster. Falling asleep sometimes felt like a test. My brain would run through everything I’d been worried about, as if I had to think about every last problem in my life before I was allowed to sleep.
I could already tell tonight was going to be a doozy. My mind started to loop and spin in a million different directions, most of them involving dreaming up scenarios of how Sawyer might regret everything we’d done tonight.
It was too real. Too much. And not fucking helping anything at all.
I needed to get the fuck out of here, get some fresh air, and come back when I finally had some damn peace of mind.
Everyone was asleep in the rest of the inn. I took a walk around the third floor, looking out the various windows at the ends of the hallways, watching the snowflakes silently fall. Eventually I headed downstairs, back to where the communal area was by the big fireplace. There was a long sofa with my name written all over it.
I crossed over and was about to plop down on the sofa when I gasped.
“Fuck,” I said, trying to keep my voice down.
Chase was right there, lying down on the sofa in front of the fire, with a lollipop in his mouth and a big, fuzzy blanket wrapped around him like a cape.
“Holy shit, Harlan, you scared the hell out of me,” Chase said, clasping one hand to his heart as he sat up on the couch.
“How do you think I feel?” I said. “I was about to slam my ass down onto this couch full force from behind. I could have knocked you out.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’d been slammed hard, don’t you worry.”
“Oh, hush,” I told him. “Are you eating a lollipop in the middle of the night, by the way? How old are you, six?”
“Guilty pleasure,” Chase said, shrugging one shoulder. “These green apple caramel ones are too good. I have them a few times a week. Here, you can sit down. I don’t bite.”
“Fine.”
He scooted over on the sofa and patted the section near him. I sat down, getting comfortable on the couch, leaning back. I looked at him, then back at the fire, then at him again.
