had seen less than a tenth of the papers graded.
The tiny fourth pile of scored essays looked pathetic next to its
counterparts on the polished oak table.
The peal of the doorbell was a relief from
the self-castigation of not working. He tossed the paper he was
grading onto the stack and rose. Pushing a frustrated hand through
his hair, he crossed the jute carpet he'd chosen for his living
area to the front door. Peering through the peephole, he couldn't
help a broad smile. Bailey stood on the porch, rocking back and
forth on his heels, looking like he'd come straight from work in
his T-shirt and jeans.
Ashton opened the door and gestured for his
boyfriend to enter. Bailey held up a white takeout bag, an
uncertain expression on his face. "I know you said not to come
because you had to work tonight," he said. "But I thought I'd bring
dinner over."
Though he had requested that Bailey not visit
so he could focus on getting the grading done and be free for the
coming week, Ashton heard the insecurity and found himself unable
to refuse. After the way Bailey had been mocked for his crush on
Eden St. Cyr, his ego had been pretty fragile. "C'mon in." He
gestured into the room. A halo of incandescent light from the floor
lamp and the flickering lights of the television lit his
comfortable leather sofa. "It's a bit of a mess." Seeing the
vibrant younger man in his cottage reassured him. He wasn't like
Dennis, he wasn't doing to Bailey what Dennis had done to him.
"I'm sorry. I know you said you were busy.
It's just… I wanted to see you." Bailey stepped inside and pressed
a brief kiss to Ashton's cheek. He crossed the room to the sofa but
instead of sitting, stood hovering awkwardly with the takeout bag
balanced in his big square hands. Ashton hurried after him and
shuffled the graded blue books into one small pile and the
un-scored essays into two larger piles that he stacked on the floor
between the sofa and the lamp.
"Have a seat." Ashton gestured to the
sofa.
Bailey dropped the bag on the table and sat,
relaxing into the overstuffed arm of the sofa. Ashton paused to
study him, and then returned to his position under the lamp.
Clearly there was more going on here than an urge to see him.
Turning, he smiled encouragingly at Bailey. The distance between
them as well as the expression on Bailey's face spoke of his
discomfort. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?" He
reached out and placed his hand on Bailey's knee, gave an
encouraging squeeze. Once, he'd been young and looked up at his
lover like that. He hoped he did a better job of nurturing Bailey's
needs than his ex had done for him.
Bailey met his gaze briefly before turning
his attention to the TV that still played in the background. His
cheeks were flushed and he seemed fidgety. "You don't think I can
just stop by because I wanted to see you?"
Ashton slid closer. The clean scent of sweat
and sawdust clung to Bailey, more potent than any cologne his past
lovers had favored. He drew his hand up Bailey's arm to a shoulder
then cupped the back of his neck, massaging the tense muscles
softly. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to Bailey's temple. "I
think," he said, "that if this were any normal visit you wouldn't
be so tense and distant." Not willing to accept the distance, not
when their time apart was coming to an end, he wrapped his arms
around Bailey and tugged him closer into his embrace. "Are you
going to make me guess what's brought you here tonight when you
should be studying for your exams next week?"
Bailey leaned against him and he could
practically feel the heat of his flush through his shirt. "I need
you to promise me you'll do something for me."
"Anything," he promised rashly.
"My dad and Eden want to throw me a
twenty-first birthday slash graduation barbecue party. Will you
come with me?"
He didn't have to think twice about that. In
the eighteen months that he and Bailey had been seeing each other,
he'd been waiting for an invitation to meet
The tiny fourth pile of scored essays looked pathetic next to its
counterparts on the polished oak table.
The peal of the doorbell was a relief from
the self-castigation of not working. He tossed the paper he was
grading onto the stack and rose. Pushing a frustrated hand through
his hair, he crossed the jute carpet he'd chosen for his living
area to the front door. Peering through the peephole, he couldn't
help a broad smile. Bailey stood on the porch, rocking back and
forth on his heels, looking like he'd come straight from work in
his T-shirt and jeans.
Ashton opened the door and gestured for his
boyfriend to enter. Bailey held up a white takeout bag, an
uncertain expression on his face. "I know you said not to come
because you had to work tonight," he said. "But I thought I'd bring
dinner over."
Though he had requested that Bailey not visit
so he could focus on getting the grading done and be free for the
coming week, Ashton heard the insecurity and found himself unable
to refuse. After the way Bailey had been mocked for his crush on
Eden St. Cyr, his ego had been pretty fragile. "C'mon in." He
gestured into the room. A halo of incandescent light from the floor
lamp and the flickering lights of the television lit his
comfortable leather sofa. "It's a bit of a mess." Seeing the
vibrant younger man in his cottage reassured him. He wasn't like
Dennis, he wasn't doing to Bailey what Dennis had done to him.
"I'm sorry. I know you said you were busy.
It's just… I wanted to see you." Bailey stepped inside and pressed
a brief kiss to Ashton's cheek. He crossed the room to the sofa but
instead of sitting, stood hovering awkwardly with the takeout bag
balanced in his big square hands. Ashton hurried after him and
shuffled the graded blue books into one small pile and the
un-scored essays into two larger piles that he stacked on the floor
between the sofa and the lamp.
"Have a seat." Ashton gestured to the
sofa.
Bailey dropped the bag on the table and sat,
relaxing into the overstuffed arm of the sofa. Ashton paused to
study him, and then returned to his position under the lamp.
Clearly there was more going on here than an urge to see him.
Turning, he smiled encouragingly at Bailey. The distance between
them as well as the expression on Bailey's face spoke of his
discomfort. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?" He
reached out and placed his hand on Bailey's knee, gave an
encouraging squeeze. Once, he'd been young and looked up at his
lover like that. He hoped he did a better job of nurturing Bailey's
needs than his ex had done for him.
Bailey met his gaze briefly before turning
his attention to the TV that still played in the background. His
cheeks were flushed and he seemed fidgety. "You don't think I can
just stop by because I wanted to see you?"
Ashton slid closer. The clean scent of sweat
and sawdust clung to Bailey, more potent than any cologne his past
lovers had favored. He drew his hand up Bailey's arm to a shoulder
then cupped the back of his neck, massaging the tense muscles
softly. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to Bailey's temple. "I
think," he said, "that if this were any normal visit you wouldn't
be so tense and distant." Not willing to accept the distance, not
when their time apart was coming to an end, he wrapped his arms
around Bailey and tugged him closer into his embrace. "Are you
going to make me guess what's brought you here tonight when you
should be studying for your exams next week?"
Bailey leaned against him and he could
practically feel the heat of his flush through his shirt. "I need
you to promise me you'll do something for me."
"Anything," he promised rashly.
"My dad and Eden want to throw me a
twenty-first birthday slash graduation barbecue party. Will you
come with me?"
He didn't have to think twice about that. In
the eighteen months that he and Bailey had been seeing each other,
he'd been waiting for an invitation to meet
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