A Wealth of Unsaid Words

A Wealth of Unsaid Words by R. Cooper Page A

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Authors: R. Cooper
Tags: Romance MM, erotic MM
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his baked treats onto the couch with her. She made Ty
    make room.
    Alex hoped she got only socks.
    It wasn"t much of a curse. The Faradays weren"t rich,
    and there was a houseful of people to shop for. Gifts tended
    to be simple, cheap, or homemade—used books, knitted
    scarves, jars of spicy pickles, picture frames. Those with
    money tended to buy things that were needed. Alex wasn"t
    wealthy either, was still working out some debt issues, but
    he had enough to get George and Ally tickets to a show in
    the city, which meant they"d have to come see him.
    And hopefully Everett, his mind added, but when he
    looked at Everett, Everett was focused on opening the
    current present being handed to him by the child forced to
    play Santa.
    Alex dutifully opened his presents too. An expensive
    bottle of cognac from Robert. Interesting junk from street
    vendors and thrift sales and convenience stores that they
    knew would amuse him from the others, including a truly
    awful-looking movie from Everett.
    He raised his head again to thank him and saw Everett
    stretching to kiss his mother"s cheek to thank her for
    whatever she"d gotten him. Alex turned to see what, and
    then stopped to study the familiar bags of caramels and hard
    candy and think about Everett having more of his favorite
    treat to hoard.
    93

    A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

    “I didn"t plan to buy them for you, but I was looking for
    something interesting for Alex, and I saw those and thought
    of you. You always loved them when you were growing up,
    and I couldn"t find a last little something for you,” Ally was
    explaining merrily and then must have caught some kind of
    question on Ty"s face because she went on. “I know they
    aren"t much, but Everett always loved those, especially the
    butterscotch. That was always his favorite of all of them.”
    Ty said something Alex couldn"t hear, but he supposed
    it didn"t matter because then Ty turned to look at him,
    revelations all over his face. George turned, too, squinting
    across the room at Alex like he"d also just figured something
    out.
    They could be wrong, but Alex didn"t think so. It wasn"t
    as though he"d been especially subtle. He hadn"t seen the
    point at the time. Those poems had been borne out of those
    first post-suicide-attempt letters to Everett, created from the
    words he couldn"t say out loud. Subtlety hadn"t even
    occurred to him.
    If (when) I live to be old / will I confuse dreams? / one
    sweet circle of butterscotch / a lifetime of the bruised bliss of
    your mouth. That was the rest of the line Ty hadn"t been able
    to remember, though the poem itself went on from there.
    But Alex ignored them, poems he"d hated the moment
    they were out for the world to read, and all the other people
    in the room, and looked at Everett. He found Everett staring
    at him, white-faced and hungover and frowning. Furious, as
    he only ever got when Alex refused to take his medication, or
    when Alex took too much on purpose and called him to say,
    94

    A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

    “I"m sorry, Everett, I"m so sorry,” before hanging up and
    locking his door.
    Alex rose to his feet and went to the kitchen. He stopped
    only because George grabbed his arm. The man paused,
    looking around, then lowered his voice.
    “Only a few minutes, son. You"ve got gifts waiting.”
    Everett"s father was as startlingly kind as he had always
    been under the strong words and gruff bluster as he let Alex
    go and then stepped back to resume taking pictures.
    Alex nodded, but only because he couldn"t speak. Then
    he got the hell out of there.
    If that meant freezing his ass off again, then so be it.

    hat, of course, was a bold declaration made in the
    heat of the moment. The moment after was
    T

    considerably colder and uncomfortable. He"d put on
    some flannel pajama pants to come downstairs but not
    shoes or even slippers. He wasn"t certain he even owned a
    pair of slippers, though he"d once sent Rachel four pairs of
    stuffed

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