“Maybe… maybe…” I mutter. I know deep down he’s right, but I’m not ready to acknowledge it yet. It’s too goddamn scary.
“I say you go after him. Maybe he needs you to push him. And maybe he needs to push you right back. My guess is you’re both worried about the same thing—putting yourselves out there. One honest conversation can change that,” he says. “And if things go to shit, better it happens now than in five years. You know what to do if you feel the urge to use getting to be too much. You have support, people to call for help. You know where to find what you need, and you know I’m here for you, as well as my folks. Always, no matter what. We all love you, Reed. You’re part of the Armstrong clan, whether you want to be or not.”
Grinning, I reply, “I know, Case. Thank you. I love you all too. Man, talking to you has helped me feel so much better. I mean, I’m pretty much crying like a baby, and I’m totally fucked-up, but I feel way better.”
Case snorts. “At your service, anytime,” he says. “You’ll let me know what happens when you talk to him, right?”
“I will. Thanks again. I love you, man.”
“Love you too, my brother.”
After we end our conversation, I’m really emotional. I’m not sure how to handle the fact that for the last twenty-plus years, I’ve had a family ready and waiting to give me all the love and support I could have ever wanted, and I’ve blocked them at the gate. But maybe I really wasn’t ready to accept that kind of love until now. I just know something in me shifted when I talked to Case. I’m finally able to believe the Armstrong family loves me. I just need to let them.
Somehow, being able to see that has also allowed me to see what I really want. And what I want is everything. I want it all with Dylan Campbell.
Chapter 29
DYLAN
Talkingtomysiblingshelped so much. I have way more confidence that Reed and I can work things out now, but I’m still nervous as fuck before arriving at his place Monday afternoon.
Even though I feel better after talking to the three amigos, I’m still ashamed of how I acted the morning I threw Reed out, and owning up to that kind of behavior is never easy. I know he wanted to help; I just couldn’t accept it. Putting aside my shame after a public meltdown is really hard, but that’s no excuse for acting like a prick. I feel like every time I have a meltdown, especially in public, a little chip of my self-esteem and confidence gets broken off, making me a little smaller. I’ve had so many chips and breaks I worry I’m getting too small. The time I’ve spent with Reed has felt like rebuilding that rock. Even if parts of it are only spackled together for now, I’m in better shape than I was before. Reed is slowly helping me heal some of my cracks.
Pulling up in front of the beautiful old craftsman, I note his black SUV in the driveway. Swallowing the nerves that have suddenly gathered in my throat, I walk to the door.
I knock first, then open the door just enough to poke my head in. “Hellooo?” I call. Not hearing a response, I step inside, hoping he’s not asleep.
I’m still standing in the foyer when I look up to see a vision from every one of my wet dreams heading straight for me. Reed is coming down the stairs, shirtless, his dark, wet hair still dripping from the shower, several stray water drops sliding down his chest. He’s holding the towel up with one hand and drying his hair with another. And Jesus Christ, all I can think about is how badly I want to throw him down right here and fuck him so hard he can’t remember his own name.
“Hey,” he says, getting to the bottom of the stairs.
I clear my throat. “Hi. Um, I hope it’s okay that I’m here. I wanted to get some more work done on the bathroom. I apologize for not calling first.”
I can’t meet his eyes. It’s hard enough to do on a regular day, but right now, with all these big, complicated feelings bubbling through me, there’s no chance.
“Of course. You know it’s totally fine. You don’t have to call ahead. This is just as much your project as mine,” he says, and I nod, attempting a smile. Since I have no idea how to start the conversation I know we need to have, I turn to head into the kitchen, but he stops me.
“Hold on, Dyl. Can we chat for a few minutes?” he says.
“Sure,” I say, turning back to him.
“Just a sec—let me throw some clothes on. I know it’s nearly dinnertime, but it’s still morning for me, and there’s coffee if you want some.” He grins and heads back up, taking the stairs two at a time. I definitely do not sneak a peek at his perfect ass moving under the towel as he disappears upstairs. Definitely not.
Heading into the kitchen, I pour myself a coffee, black, because the only thing in his fridge is that supersweet creamer he loves. Reed reappears a few minutes later. After pouring himself a coffee, he sits down next to me on the barstools we have set up at the island’s makeshift countertop that consists of plywood resting on top of the new cabinets.
“So, Dylan, look.” Reed clears his throat, and I suddenly realize he’s having trouble meetingmyeyes. My stomach clenches.
“I’ve… I’ve picked up the phone about a million times since Friday to text or call you. But I wasn’t sure what to say—” He stops, sucking in another deep breath and rolling his shoulders back.
“Okay, fuck this. I’m just going to say it. Dylan, I don’t want this to be over between us. The last few days have been complete shit. I’ve missed you like crazy, and I just want to be with you. I…” He hesitates for a long moment, his eyes dropping to the ground, and he shifts in the chair.
Finally, he brings his gaze back to me. “I’m falling in love with you, Dylan. In fact—fuck that shit.” He looks away for a second, giving his head a shake. “I’m not falling in love. I’ve fallen. I love you, Dylan.”
Chapter 30
REED
Dylan’seyesgrowhuge.But I don’t regret telling him how I feel. I’ve fallen for this man so hard I’m willing to do damn near anything to keep him, and he needs to know it.