Strings Attached

“You could have led with the husband thing.”

“And miss the chance to make you jealous? Where’s the fun in that?” I teased.

“I was not jealous.”

“Okay.”

“I wasn’t!”

“I said okay.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes,” Zander replied, like he was the older of the two of us. I just liked to see him smile, and our banter seemed to do that, so I was silly around him as much as possible.

Zander went over to a built-in bookshelf. There were more photos there, along with my book collection—mostly novels, but some biographies and other nonfiction as well. “I want my own library one day…a room in my house that’s all books. I even want one of those rolling ladders, even if it is just for show.” His fingertips danced along the spines. “I love Oscar Wilde…oh, The Thorn Birds. Have you read all the books here?”

He didn’t look at me when he spoke, but I was still riveted by him. There was something so captivating about him, like he’d put a spell on me that just grew stronger the longer I knew him. “Yeah, I have.”

“I used to try to read every day. It’s been hard lately, but it’s good for me mentally and emotionally. It grounds me in a way.” He pointed to a photo. “Who’s this?”

“Ross’s mom.”

“She’s beautiful. I didn’t think she had anything to do with him.”

“She doesn’t, but this is one of the few photos I have of her. I wanted him to grow up knowing what she looked like, who she is. I used to share stories about her with him all the time.”

Zander turned to me. I hadn’t realized how close we were until he did. I felt his breath when he asked, “Did you love her?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “We were young. We’d both been in the foster care system together. Tracy is…was…? I’m not sure, but she was wild in a fun way. She would get me into trouble, but we always had a good time. She got me to take chances I never would have, and I’m thankful for those. We had a lot of fun together, but she couldn’t turn it off like I could. When she got pregnant, that was it for me. I was going to be a father, and I sure as shit planned to be a better parent than the ones I’d had. I didn’t party anymore. Being pregnant was hard on her. She had bad morning sickness, which was all-day sickness. I don’t know why they call it that.

“Then Ross was born, and she wanted to be wild again, to have fun, and I couldn’t do that. Before I was taken away from my parents, all I remember were the parties—drugs, drinking, them getting me to smoke pot when I was eight and then everyone laughing at how I acted high. I didn’t want Ross to see the things I’d seen, and…she couldn’t handle it. She left a note, and I believe she did it out of love. I think she knew that being a mom wasn’t what she wanted, and in her eyes, she was giving Ross the best possible chance by leaving him with me. He was only a couple of months old.”

“Jesus, Harrison.”

“It is what it is. I’ve tried to find her over the years but never could. I just hope she’s healthy and happy.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if I believe you’re real,” he said softly. “I’ve never known someone like you before.”

“I’m not perfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. We all do the best we can. That’s all I do, just like you.”

“Can I fuck you again?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Zander pressed his mouth to mine, and I picked him up, his long legs wrapping around my waist. Our lips didn’t pull apart as I carried him to my room.

We stripped each other out of our clothes, kissing, sucking, tasting. And when he pressed inside me, fucking into me with long, smooth, powerful strokes, I knew I’d misjudged this situation. That I liked Zander more than I should. That I wanted more of him than I thought he could give.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Zander

I’d never slept in bed all night with a man I was fucking before. I sure as shit hadn’t done it after he’d rescued me in the rain, we’d had dinner together, and then he’d…talked to me the way Harrison had last night.

He was so fascinating to me, so interesting, that no matter how much I learned about him, I wanted to know more. He’d been through so much in his life, yet he was so happy and open. He’d accomplished a great deal, and…I wanted to be like him. I wanted more of him, even if he was a clingy sleeper.

He was passed out, but I couldn’t sleep. We were on our sides, my back against his chest, and he had an arm and leg slung over me, keeping me in place. His warm breath fluttered through my hair, and every once in a while, his finger brushed against my chest.