Falling Together (All That Remains #2) (3 page)

“You
scared the fuck out of us, you arrogant asshole!” he shouts. Troy quickly gets
between them, though Airen doesn’t attempt to strike back. He regards Joseph
warily, as if he’s studying a new species of animal that may attack
unexpectedly. His eyes widen at the blood that streaks his fingers when he
drags his hand across his lower lip.

“You
hit me,” he declares, his voice incredulous.

“Joseph,”
I squeak. I can’t believe my eyes. I doubt Joseph has ever hit anyone in his
life. His face and ears glow bright red, his hands are balled into fists, and
the cords in his neck stand out. He’s furious.

“Come
on now, Joseph,” Troy orders, taking his arm and pulling him toward the truck.
“That’s enough.”

“Don’t
you ever fucking do that to us again,” Joseph exclaims, his fear and relief
warring with his anger. After glaring at Airen for a few seconds and getting no
response, he turns and allows Troy to escort him back to the truck.

They
talk for a few moments before Troy approaches me. “I’ll run him home and come
right back for you two.”

“Okay.”
It’s probably a good idea to keep them apart for a bit. “Thank you for
everything, Troy.” A gloomy look of resignation settles on his face when he
glances at Airen. His lips press together and he nods when my sympathetic gaze
meets his. Airen may still be struggling to piece things together, but Troy
understands Joseph’s reaction only too well.

“Are
you okay?” I ask Airen after they pull away.

“I’m
fine.” Gravel crunches beneath his feet as he stalks to the steps, sitting as
though his body weighs five hundred pounds.

“It
doesn’t look like you need stitches, but an icepack would be a good idea when
we get home,” I advise, sliding my arm through his and sitting beside him. He
remains silent, struggling to suppress the myriad of emotions that flit across
his handsome troubled face.

Anger,
regret, and disbelief dissolve into hurt while he stares into the distance
attempting to process it all. I consider what to say to him, how to comfort
him, and eventually opt to keep quiet. His pride is hurt along with his
feelings. Besides, it’s not completely undeserved. As we walk to the road to
meet Troy, he slips his arm around my shoulders, seeking and giving solace.

“Everything
will be okay,” I reassure him, my voice soft.

He
nods. “Are you pissed at me, as well?”

“I
should be.” He nods again, his lips pressed together. “But it appears Joseph
has the anger approach well covered. I’m just relieved you’re safe.”

“He’s
really mad.”

“You
scared him. He was terrified something bad had happened to you.”

“He
hit me.” Anger flashes in his dark eyes.

“You
know how terrible he’s going to feel about it when he calms down. At least you
didn’t exacerbate the situation by swinging back.”

“Yet.”

“Stop
it,” I scold. “You aren’t going to hurt Joseph. You couldn’t live with yourself.
In a few days it’ll all blow over.” Deep down, I doubt my optimistic outlook.
It’s likely this incident will have far reaching consequences. I’m confident
Airen and Joseph will reconcile their differences, but after witnessing the
heartbreak on Troy’s face when he realized the depth of Joseph’s feelings for
Airen, I’m not so sure about the future of Joseph and Troy’s relationship. It’s
a relief when Troy drops us at our door and hurries home to tend to Joseph.

For
two days Joseph and Airen have managed to completely avoid one another. Airen
is moody and short-tempered so I’m not exactly surprised when Troy asks me to
meet him after lunch. I assume he’s dealing with the same issues when it comes
to Joseph. I don’t know exactly what he wants to discuss, but it’s sure to be
an uncomfortable conversation.

We
sit at the kitchen table, drinking iced tea. “I know you probably don’t want to
get in the middle of it, Abby, but I’m hoping you’ll help me get these two
stubborn jackasses to talk to each other,” he explains, exasperated.

A
smile blooms on his lips when I chuckle in relief. “They’ll come around, Troy.
They’ve been friends a long time.”

“Sooner
rather than later, I hope. Joseph has been hell on wheels. He feels so guilty
for punching him, but he’ll never be the first to apologize.”

“If
you want my opinion, Airen should be the one to apologize. He made a mistake
and caused us all to worry. I don’t think he’s really pissed over the punch. I
think he’s…embarrassed,” I admit hesitantly.

Running
a hand through his short brown hair, he laughs and replies, “It’s a guy thing.”

“Stubborn
male pride,” I grumble. “So, any ideas on how to put an end to this pissing
contest?”

“Lock
them in a room together until they either make up or kill each other?”

We
laugh together. “They’d both starve to death first. Let me talk to Airen
tonight. He’s had a couple of days to cool down so maybe I can get through to
him.”

“Thanks,
Abby.” His shoulders relax and he takes a sip of his iced tea. I’m impressed
and touched by Troy’s selflessness. He recognizes the connection between Joseph
and Airen, and I’m sure it’s difficult for him to witness. Still, he’s more
concerned about Joseph’s happiness.

“Thank
you for helping me find him, and for all the time you’ve spent with Lane. You
and Joseph have been a godsend, Troy.”

Running
his finger around the rim of his glass, he smiles, looking embarrassed. “I
enjoy having Lane around. He’s adorable, and I’ve never spent much time around
a baby before.”

“Well,
you’re a natural. He loves you guys.” After a few more minutes of pleasant
conversation, Troy heads home to deal with his grouch while I try to decide
what to say to mine.

Airen
is preparing for bed, and I’m doing my best not to get distracted by his
oh-so-squeezable behind clad only in dark blue boxer briefs. He smirks when he
catches my gaze.

“You
were staring at my ass,” he teases.

“Was
not,” I lie. “I want to talk you about something.”

“That
doesn’t sound good.”

“Don’t
you think it’s time you apologized to Joseph?” I ask, getting straight to the
point.

“Abby.
He hit me
. You want me to apologize?” His brow furrows as he frowns, and
his lips are thin white lines. After pulling on his sweatpants, he perches on
the edge of the love seat.

“He
shouldn’t have punched you, but you know he didn’t mean to do it. He was
scared. I kind of wanted to hit you too.”

“I
said I was sorry, Abby, what more do you want?” he snaps.

“You
apologized to me, Airen, not him. I understand, and I know you wouldn’t worry
me intentionally, but, just for one second, try to see this from Joseph’s point
of view. He thought the worst, that you were taken or dead, and when we found
you, you acted as though it was no big deal. It’s like a slap in the face. I’m
sure he was overwhelmed, angry you put him through that, relieved you were
okay, and probably hurt you didn’t care enough to apologize.”

His
hands rasp over stubbly cheeks as he scrubs his face and sighs. “What are you
suggesting I do? Go over there and kiss his ass until he decides I’m sorry
enough?” Oh, if he doesn’t shut up, I’m going to pop him in the mouth myself.

“No.
Go tell him you screwed up and you’re sorry. That’s all.” He keeps his eyes
locked on mine, glaring at me, but I’m not going to be intimidated. “How would
you have felt if I’d disappeared for an entire day? If, when you found me, I
shrugged and claimed I’d simply forgotten?”

“That’s
different,” he mumbles, but his eyes betray his guilt, darting away.

“It’s
not. He cares about you every bit as much as you care about me, whether you
want to admit it or not.”

“If
I agree to go apologize tomorrow, will you drop it?”

“Yep.”
I smile.

“Fine.”

“Thank
you.”

“Bully,”
he remarks, pursing his lips.

“Don’t
pout.” I giggle, and he gives me a reluctant smile.

“Now
that we have that settled, are you ready to admit you were checking out my
ass?” Laughing, he pulls me into bed.

Joseph

“Thank
you for helping.” I kiss Troy and dodge Walker as he darts by.

“Sorry
Dad! Eric’s gonna play Battleship with me and Carson plays the winner!” he
calls. He loves to have Carson over to visit.

“Abby
would do it for us.” Troy grins.

“Well,
you’re still a sweetheart.”

“That’s
me.”

Things
have been difficult for Troy since his rescue from a crazy homophobic cult. Airen,
Abby, and I were only held there for a few days and I still have nightmares.
Though the leader and the other members are long dead, it showed us what people
are capable of in a lawless world. I don’t know the extent of what Troy
suffered at their hands, but I can imagine, and it makes me nauseous. I know
they tortured him. His back, behind, and thighs are laced with long thin scars,
and there are spots on his feet that look like cigarette burns. He goes out of
his way to hide the scars. I rarely see him without a shirt, and as you can
imagine, this limits our sex life. He’s just so uncomfortable with himself, but
we’re working on it. It’s heartbreaking because he’s such a kind, thoughtful
person.

“We
could keep the baby overnight sometime,” he offers.

“If
we can pry him out of Abby’s grip. Don’t we have enough kids running through
the house at the moment?” I grin.

“Kids
are great. Abby and Airen are lucky.”

“Yes,
they are. I’ll talk to Abby and tell her Lane needs to spend some time with his
uncles.” I’m rewarded with a shy smile. “You have such a cute smile.” I rest my
hands on his hips and kiss his lips softly. His brown eyes settle on mine.

“Do
you love me?” he asks in a low voice, an impassive expression on his face. We
have been together for three months without exchanging those all important
words. The truth is, I’m just not sure. I care for him. I love being with him.
He’s attractive with his light brown eyes and sandy hair that flops over his
forehead. Still, I don’t feel like I did with my late husband, or how I feel
when I’m with Airen. Regardless, I don’t want to lose him and I know he needs
me. He needs to be loved.

“With
all my heart,” I reply, holding him close.

“I
love you, too.”

We
kiss, lightly at first until he parts his lips slightly, allowing my tongue
access to his mouth. The kiss deepens, our tongues engaging in a slow dance,
giving and taking. He moans into my mouth and I hold him tighter, as if he may
dart away from me at any second. His firm chest and thighs press against mine
and I can feel him getting hard. I gasp when his hand slides between us, his
fingers rubbing firmly over the bulge he’s created.

“Let’s
put the kids to bed early tonight,” he whispers. His hand roams around my back
and settles on the curve of my ass with a squeeze.

“Mmm,
how about now?” I mumble, my lips finding the soft spot below his ear.

Laughing,
he pulls away from me. “It’s six o’clock.”

“You
started it,” I accuse good naturedly.

“And
I’ll finish it…tonight.” He flashes a teasing grin.

Oh,
I wish I could believe that. I’m fighting the urge to jerk his pants off and
teach him a lesson for taunting me. My groan rumbles against his neck and he
chuckles. “I’m going to shower.”

“No
you don’t. You wait for me.” His voice is stern.

“Are
you going to shower with me?” My hands glide over his shoulders, and start
gently down his back. His entire body instantly stiffens and he takes a quick
step back.
Shit, the scars
.

“Uh…no.
That isn’t what I meant,” he stumbles, suddenly pale.

“I’m
sorry.” I take his hand. “I’m not trying to pressure you, honey. I just
misunderstood.”

He
nods and bends to kiss my neck before whispering roughly in my ear. “No
touching yourself before I get to touch you,” he growls, and I flush from head
to toe. He has successfully rendered me speechless. I want him
now
.

“You’re
adorable when you blush,” he teases. Fortunately, I’m saved from responding
when Eric wanders into the room.

* * * *

There
is a knock at the door and Troy peeks out the window as if a well mannered
serial killer may be seeking permission to enter and slaughter us all. It’s
Airen. Shit. Where is a serial killer when you need one?

“Is
Joseph around?” he asks.

“He’s
in the kitchen. Go on in.” Troy sighs, closing the door behind him. Airen isn’t
one of his favorite people at the moment either. I’m surprised he’s here.
Knowing Airen, he’ll try to act like nothing happened. Should I just let it go?
I keep my gaze trained on my crossword when I feel his eyes on me. I need a
five letter word for arrogant. Holy shit. Airen fits.

“Hey,”
he says hesitantly. Shifting from one foot to the other, he looks embarrassed
and uncomfortable, like he’d rather run naked through a cactus patch than talk
to me. I’m not going to take pity on him this time.

“What
do you want?” I demand, my tone icy. I struggle to keep an impassive
expression, but the twitch in my lip puts a crack in the mask of stoic
indifference and betrays my anxiety.

Taking
a deep breath, he holds up a bottle of bourbon as a peace offering and replies,
“To apologize.” Without speaking, I retrieve two tumblers from the cabinet and
gesture for him to take a seat. He downs the drink in two gulps, stoking
himself with liquid courage, before looking up at me. Why does he have to be so
damn attractive?

“I’m
sorry I didn’t let anyone know where I was going or at least take a radio. I
know I’m the one who always preaches about safety precautions. I wasn’t thinking
and I fucked up.” The words fly from his mouth as if they’re burning his
tongue.

“How
long have you been rehearsing that?”

“I’m
not good at this sort of thing,” he mumbles. Airen Holder isn’t good at
expressing his feelings and humbling himself. It’s not exactly a revelation.
Honestly, I’m shocked he made the effort to apologize. Waiting for me to “get
over it” is more his style. Abby’s fingerprints are all over this. She must
have ridden his ass. Still, I know it’s hard for him, and I’m touched.

He’s
not the only one who fucked up. “I didn’t mean to hit you,” I confess quietly,
forcing myself to meet his eyes. “I was sure something had happened to you and
when I saw you standing there, smirking…”

“You
decided to knock it off my face?” His tone is dry and sardonic as he arches a
dark eyebrow at me, a smirk forming on his lips.

“No.
I didn’t
decide
anything. I guess I just…reacted, and I don’t know why.
I’ve never punched anyone before. I’m sorry.”

A
guilty frown mars his face as he refills our drinks. “Yeah, well, the next time
you do something stupid I get a free pass to punch you in the eye, just to even
things out.” He grins up at me, and I’m a little ashamed of the relief I feel
at the sight of his smile. I missed him.

“Deal.”
I reply, returning his smile.

“So,
are we good?” he asks hesitantly, studying the kitchen table like it may hold
the answer he’s looking for.

“I
hope so.” Relief floods his features and warmth spreads through me as he
inadvertently reveals how much he really cares about our friendship, about me.
“Do you want to get drunk?”

“Hell,
yeah.” The rest of the tension drains from the room, and I yell to Troy to come
and join us.

“That’s
quite a right you have,” Airen remarks good naturedly.

“Remember
that.”

“You
do realize I could’ve whipped your ass, right?” He smiles that cocky arrogant
smile that never fails to make my heart race.

“Whatever
you need to tell yourself, buddy.”

* * * *

Airen
plops onto the couch. “Your man is a lightweight.” His drink sloshes over the
rim of his glass and splashes down his jeans. He doesn’t miss the look of irony
stamped on my face as I toss him a towel. “Shut up,” he mumbles, grinning.

“Did
Abby give you a curfew?” I tease.

“Are
you trying to get rid of me so you can get laid?” He grins and makes himself
comfortable, throwing his leg across his knee and leaning back into the
cushions.

That
certainly isn’t an issue. I’m trying to be patient with Troy, but it’s
difficult. He’s so self-conscious. There are moments when he lets his guard
down, but we’ve had little intimate contact. I’m frustrated, and watching Airen
parade his sexy ass around isn’t helping.

“No,”
I scoff, shaking my head. Airen’s eyebrows climb his forehead and he gazes at
me curiously.

“You
two haven’t…?”

My
face heats while I ponder how to answer this question. Airen has no problem discussing
his sex life, although it’s typically just bragging on how many times he made
Abby come, or how she attacked him unexpectedly. “Troy isn’t ready,” I mumble.

Eyes
filled with sympathy, he asks, “Do you know what the problem is?” Sighing, I
excuse myself to peek in on Troy. He’s dead to the world, snoring loud enough
to wake a coma patient. When I return to the sofa, Airen hands me another
drink. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s really none of my business.”

“I
just didn’t want him to overhear. I doubt he’d appreciate me discussing it with
you
.
”
I love you, Airen, that’s a big part of the problem.

“It
stays between us.” He gazes at me intently.

“We
haven’t fucked. I don’t know everything he was subjected to in that place, but
it seriously messed him up. He can’t stand to be touched, especially on the
areas that bear scars.”

“Do
you think he was raped?” His voice is hushed.

“He
says he wasn’t, but I can’t be certain. I’ve tried to take things slow. I mean,
it’s not like we haven’t done…anything,” I trail off. It feels strange
discussing this with him.

“Don’t
get all shy on me now.” He chuckles. “If Abby knew some of things I’ve told you
she’d murder me.”

I
shift uncomfortably in my seat. “We’ve pretty much been limited to blow jobs.
I’m not complaining. He’s good, and if he didn’t want anything more it’d be
different, but I know he does. He
wants
to fuck, but he panics, and as
soon as things get heated, he retreats. I don’t know if it’s all about the
scars, but that’s definitely a large part of it. I’m taking it as slow as I
can, but it doesn’t seem like we’re making any progress, and I don’t know what
else to do.” My frustration pours out of me. I didn’t realize how much I needed
to talk about this.

Airen
nods and rests his hand on my shoulder. It’s a simple
everything-will-be-okay-buddy sort of gesture, but I can feel the heat of his
palm through my T-shirt and I have to tamp down the urge to grab those lips
with mine. “I can’t imagine he’s afraid you’ll hurt him physically. He’s known
you long enough to know he can trust you. Is it maybe because he doesn’t like…I
mean…maybe you aren’t…compatible?”

It’s
too damn funny to watch him dance around the question. “Are you asking if I top
or bottom?”

“I’m
suggesting he may not want to bend over for you if he was forced in that damn
stable.”

“I
get it, but that’s not the issue. It’s not just that he won’t fuck me. Christ,
Airen, three months and I’ve never seen him completely naked.”

“I
don’t know, buddy, maybe the cult’s teachings got into his head. He was there
almost a year. Maybe they made him ashamed of what he wants, of who he is. It’s
possible he relates sex with pain because of what they did to him.”

I
sigh and flop back onto the couch. “Now if only a surviving psychiatrist would
happen by.”

Airen
laughs and shakes his head. His cheeks are slightly red from the alcohol and tiny
beads of sweat form at his temples. “My other suggestion would be to get him
drunk first.”

“Always
the gentleman.” I roll my eyes.

“Worked
for Nic,” he slurs, nearly inaudible.
Whoa, what?

“Who’s
Nic?” I ask, trying not to sound as if I’m dying to know.

He
blinks and runs his hand through his hair, instantly regretting his slip.
“Never mind. I’m drunk. I should get home.” He places his glass carefully on
the table, and starts to rise. Oh no, this is the closest he has come to
telling this story and I’m not letting him escape.

“You
aren’t getting away with that shit,” I exclaim, grasping his arm and pulling
back onto the couch. “Who is Nic?”

Sighing,
he scrubs his face with his hands and replies, “He was a friend, a roommate.”

“Your
youthful experiment?” I ask softly. This is where he typically changes the
subject, or runs away.

“Yes.”
The terse reply is a warning to let it go, but I can’t.

“Did
you sleep with him?” I murmur. I know it’s an inappropriate question, but those
seem to be going around tonight. Besides, I’m dying to know how far he has
actually been with a man. I’d never do anything to hurt him or Abby, but I
can’t deny my feelings for him. There have been a few kisses between us, and
they were hot, but I don’t think he has accepted the possibility he may not be
exactly…straight.