“Baby, are you asleep?”
“Close,” Dylan murmured. His voice gravelly and thick, proving he’d been sleeping.
“I need to tell you something. I haven’t ever said anything like this before, but you need to know so I can sleep.” Tristan lifted his head a little, talking quietly into Dylan’s ear, trying to keep his heart from racing out of his chest.
“Okay.” A solid yawn formed on the word.
“I’ll wait for you, however long it takes. I don’t care. I’ll wait. I’m in love with you,” Tristan whispered those last few words softly into his hair. Dylan stilled in Tristan’s arms, lying there a moment.
“Did I hear that correctly?” he asked.
“If you heard me tell you that I love you, then yes, you did,” Tristan repeated, this time with his head on the pillow, waiting for a response. Dylan turned and Tristan tightened his hold on instinct, for fear he’d bolt. Dylan wedged his way around to where they now were face-to-face. He pressed himself firmly against Tristan’s body, snuggling in as he draped an arm and leg around him and nestled his face into the crook of his neck. Dylan placed a simple kiss on Tristan’s neck, and in that moment, he’d never remembered feeling that content in his entire life. Everything made exactly right by Dylan’s response.
“Thank you for understanding. I love you.” Dylan spoke softly, saying those words like they were the most natural thing in the world for him before he went straight to sleep.
So much for earth-shattering moments with possible storming-off-and-leaving-in-the-middle-of-the-night confessions. He gently played with Dylan’s hair and then ran a hand down his neck, listening to the light snores being made against his neck and ear. He had never slept with anyone curled so completely around him, yet he found he never wanted Dylan to leave this spot. Dylan was made to lie with him exactly like this. Something told him he’d found his other half and he needed to hang on at all cost. Tristan dragged Dylan in closer, if that were even possible, and closed his eyes, relishing the moment before drifting off, sleeping better than he had in weeks.
“I should go.” Dylan sat curled up next to Tristan on the sofa in the living room area of the hotel suite he’d rented for the weekend. Dylan apparently loved sports, and they were watching an NBA playoff game. The statement had Tristan reaching over to wrap Dylan tighter in his arms, not wanting him to leave.
The weekend hadn’t only been about sex, although he loved that part. They’d stayed inside the hotel suite and gotten to know one another on a level Tristan had never known with anyone else. The more they talked, the more Tristan’s heart connected. He found that Dylan was what he seemed to be from the very beginning: a good man who was funny as hell. The overly serious, scared guy still made himself known, but those times were fading as he grew more secure. Tristan found himself regularly assuring him through word and action that he would absolutely be there for the long haul, following all of Dylan’s rules. Dylan opened up to him on a level he never expected to see.
They were fluid and natural with one another, like they had been from the first moment.
“I don’t want you to go.” Tristan leaned in, running his nose through Dylan’s disheveled hair. By talking him into staying through the late-night playoff game, he’d hoped he might be able to get another night out of the guy. Then Dylan could leave from the hotel in the morning. If he left now, Tristan would be stuck in this room alone until tomorrow.
“I need to. It’s late and I need to pull my life back together. You messed me up the last few weeks. I’m behind. I gotta get caught up and get myself running right again,” Dylan said and snuggled against him.
“Tell me about a day in the life of Dylan Reeves.” Tristan grabbed the remote, turning the volume down on the television.
“A day in the life, huh?” He looked back over his shoulder, confused.
“Yeah, from the time you wake up until the time you go to bed.” Tristan nodded encouragingly, trying to eat up more time.
“Okay, well, I get up every morning about five thirty. I usually begin my day running,” Dylan said and Tristan stopped him.
“You run every day?” That might be the craziest thing he’d ever heard anyone say, especially after their run together in California.
“Yes, and it’s the perfect time of day. I’m usually completely alone out there. I run about an hour and a half. Then I come home and get the kids off to school, they leave around eight. Then I shower, get dressed, and work until dinner or if one of the kids has something going on, I’ll do that instead of dinner. Most nights, I usually work in my home office after everyone’s settled, and then I go to bed.” Tristan listened closely, and at first, he thought Dylan’s life sounded lonely until he realized he did about the same thing, minus the kids, every single day. That was an interesting thought. He’d thought Dylan’s life was void of so many things, but maybe they were more alike than he realized.
“And golfing. You like that?” Tristan asked, when he caught Dylan staring back at him.
“Yes, that’s usually Saturday mornings before going into the office. Every once in a while I can still get Chad to the range to hit a few after school and work.” Dylan changed positions, turning to where he could better see Tristan. He liked having all of Dylan’s attention focused on him. He bent forward and kissed his lips, just because they were a little upturned and slanting his way. “What’s your day like? I bet it’s full every day.”
“I was sitting here listening, thinking we do about the same things. I really just work from the time I get up to the time I go to bed. I like sunset, but you know that, and I go to the gym at some point every day, but that’s usually about nine in the morning or after nine at night because it’s less crowded. But I do about the same as you.”