Afghanistan.
Charlie threw his shoes to the bathroom floor and clutched at his hair.
The man was dead. And Charlie was twenty-six years old. Why the hell did his father still have so much power over him? Charlie wasn’t sure whether to be more pissed at himself or his father’s ghost.
All he knew was that, so far, he was doing a piss-poor job of living up to his tattoo.
His tattoo.
Jeremy.
Shit .
Even nervous as he was about everyone’s reactions, Charlie felt like hell for denying Jeremy, for saying they weren’t together. Guilt stewed in his gut until he was nauseous.
But he could make that right.
All he had to do was talk to Jeremy. Tell him why he was nervous. And see where Jer stood on the question of coming out to everyone else. For all Charlie knew, maybe Jeremy wanted to keep them quiet for now, too. After all, they were brand new and still figuring things out themselves.
Bending over the sink, Charlie splashed cold water on his face.
Just talk to Jeremy .
Charlie nodded to his reflection in the mirror.
That would make everything better.
J EREMY STOOD IN the darkness and stared at the door for a long time after the conversation faded away. He’d awakened as Charlie attempted to slip out of his room, and gotten out of bed when he’d heard Nick giving the guy the third degree.
Which was how he’d overheard Charlie saying they weren’t together. Twice. Three times, depending on how he looked at it.
After what they’d shared last night—hell, all of yesterday—Charlie wouldn’t even acknowledge them to Nick and Becca? Both of whom obviously knew Charlie was gay and Jeremy was bisexual. Shit, as much time as he and Charlie spent together, Jeremy didn’t think it’d strike anyone as a real surprise.
At first, Charlie’s denial had set off an uncomfortable ache in the center of Jeremy’s chest. Being denied like that sucked.
Charlie was shy, Jeremy was well aware. But it wasn’t like the guy was still in the closet.
But then Jeremy had sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, head in his hands, replaying what he’d heard. And the more times he did so, the worse it felt. Not just like being denied, but like being rejected.
His heart hurt, like it was suddenly and violently empty. And then he realized why.
He was in love with Charlie.
He was in love with Charlie, and Charlie was denying to the closest people in their lives that they were even together.
Fuck.
And here Jeremy had thought he’d be the one to have problems coming to terms with choosing to commit to a man. After all, Jeremy was walking on totally new ground not just considering having a relationship with a man, but actually developing the feelings to commit to one. All the way.
And he had. Jeremy was all in.
All in love with Charlie.
Jeremy sat there so long spinning on what he’d heard and what it meant and what to do about it, that it was well after seven o’clock before he got his shit together, cleaned up, and made his way over to the gym.
Which meant he had no opportunity to have a private conversation with Charlie about any of it. And for now, that suited Jeremy just fine.
Because he was hurt, and that was making him pissed. It was probably better to chill his ass out for a while before trying to talk through everything with the man he loved.
When he entered the gym, the first thing he saw was Eileen, lying on her back, legs sticking up everywhere, as she stared at Cy, perched on a high shelf of equipment and glaring down at the puppy. Cy. Jeremy hadn’t even realized he’d settled on a name for their newest resident until just then. Charlie’s name. Of course.
Crossing the gym to the work area in the back corner of the room, Jeremy laid eyes on Charlie for the first time since last night. And just seeing him made Jeremy’s body go haywire.
Red-hot desire spiked his pulse because being inside Charlie last night had been fucking amazing. Soul-deep yearning made his heart pang with want to touch Charlie
Charlie threw his shoes to the bathroom floor and clutched at his hair.
The man was dead. And Charlie was twenty-six years old. Why the hell did his father still have so much power over him? Charlie wasn’t sure whether to be more pissed at himself or his father’s ghost.
All he knew was that, so far, he was doing a piss-poor job of living up to his tattoo.
His tattoo.
Jeremy.
Shit .
Even nervous as he was about everyone’s reactions, Charlie felt like hell for denying Jeremy, for saying they weren’t together. Guilt stewed in his gut until he was nauseous.
But he could make that right.
All he had to do was talk to Jeremy. Tell him why he was nervous. And see where Jer stood on the question of coming out to everyone else. For all Charlie knew, maybe Jeremy wanted to keep them quiet for now, too. After all, they were brand new and still figuring things out themselves.
Bending over the sink, Charlie splashed cold water on his face.
Just talk to Jeremy .
Charlie nodded to his reflection in the mirror.
That would make everything better.
J EREMY STOOD IN the darkness and stared at the door for a long time after the conversation faded away. He’d awakened as Charlie attempted to slip out of his room, and gotten out of bed when he’d heard Nick giving the guy the third degree.
Which was how he’d overheard Charlie saying they weren’t together. Twice. Three times, depending on how he looked at it.
After what they’d shared last night—hell, all of yesterday—Charlie wouldn’t even acknowledge them to Nick and Becca? Both of whom obviously knew Charlie was gay and Jeremy was bisexual. Shit, as much time as he and Charlie spent together, Jeremy didn’t think it’d strike anyone as a real surprise.
At first, Charlie’s denial had set off an uncomfortable ache in the center of Jeremy’s chest. Being denied like that sucked.
Charlie was shy, Jeremy was well aware. But it wasn’t like the guy was still in the closet.
But then Jeremy had sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, head in his hands, replaying what he’d heard. And the more times he did so, the worse it felt. Not just like being denied, but like being rejected.
His heart hurt, like it was suddenly and violently empty. And then he realized why.
He was in love with Charlie.
He was in love with Charlie, and Charlie was denying to the closest people in their lives that they were even together.
Fuck.
And here Jeremy had thought he’d be the one to have problems coming to terms with choosing to commit to a man. After all, Jeremy was walking on totally new ground not just considering having a relationship with a man, but actually developing the feelings to commit to one. All the way.
And he had. Jeremy was all in.
All in love with Charlie.
Jeremy sat there so long spinning on what he’d heard and what it meant and what to do about it, that it was well after seven o’clock before he got his shit together, cleaned up, and made his way over to the gym.
Which meant he had no opportunity to have a private conversation with Charlie about any of it. And for now, that suited Jeremy just fine.
Because he was hurt, and that was making him pissed. It was probably better to chill his ass out for a while before trying to talk through everything with the man he loved.
When he entered the gym, the first thing he saw was Eileen, lying on her back, legs sticking up everywhere, as she stared at Cy, perched on a high shelf of equipment and glaring down at the puppy. Cy. Jeremy hadn’t even realized he’d settled on a name for their newest resident until just then. Charlie’s name. Of course.
Crossing the gym to the work area in the back corner of the room, Jeremy laid eyes on Charlie for the first time since last night. And just seeing him made Jeremy’s body go haywire.
Red-hot desire spiked his pulse because being inside Charlie last night had been fucking amazing. Soul-deep yearning made his heart pang with want to touch Charlie
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