In My Arms Tonight (13 page)

The idea of James touching him, taking him, heated Glenn through to his core.

He tried not to delude himself into thinking James wanted him for anything more than a fuck. Glenn had had nothing but time to think about James’ anger, and he’d concluded part of it was due to hating the fact that James thought Glenn saw him as a victim, which too many people equated with being weak. Glenn knew better; he’d seen people get past that, seen them refuse to wear that label, refuse to let it crush them. James was strong, stronger than Glenn probably.

Maybe he was angry, too, that he hadn’t been rescued sooner, but Glenn didn’t think that was it. He didn’t know for certain, though, and he’d realised there was only one way to find out. He’d stayed away from James for months now, thinking the man wouldn’t want anything to do with him.

That wasn’t all of it.
Glenn grimaced, wishing he could kick his own ass for being so stupid. It’d taken a lot of soul searching, but he knew now he’d backed away—hell, he’d practically run, hadn’t he?—because he was scared. James had the power to hurt him like no one else could, and after that last blow to his ego, that last kick to his heart, Glenn had retreated and told himself he was doing so for James’ sake.

While that was partially true, Glenn didn’t have to completely avoid the man like he had, refusing Xavier and Chase’s invites to come over any time he thought James might be there. And yet he’d driven by, like some lovesick fool, day after day. Why? Because he was terrified of the power James could have—did have, to some extent. He’d hidden away, at least from James, all in an attempt to keep himself safe. In fact, if Les hadn’t been so convincing, Glenn would have left and found that nice beach he kept dreaming about. Except in his dreams, James was with him.

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IN MY ARMS TONIGHT

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Now, as Glenn smeared shaving cream over his cheeks and chin, then down his neck, he realised that whatever it was he felt for James, it shouldn’t be about power. He didn’t want to be in a pissing match with the man, and, unless James had had a total personality implant, James wasn’t the type for such shit either. Everything Glenn knew about James made him out to be an incredible man—intelligent, kind, compassionate, fair—just every lonely man or woman’s dream. Rollins couldn’t have changed that; maybe what had happened to James had buried part of that for a while, but it would rise back to the surface.

Whether or not he would want Glenn then was something only time would tell—but he surely wouldn’t be encouraged to do so if Glenn was nothing more than a ghost in his past.

And besides, after the display yesterday, Glenn thought James didn’t really want him to be a ghost. Again, there were lots of maybes involved. Maybe James was screwing with him and Glenn had it all wrong about the kind of man James was. Maybe James was just ready to delve into sex again and knew Glenn would be willing. All James would have to do was think about the fact that Glenn had followed him here, was still here, and he’d piece it together and know he could have Glenn at the snap of his fingers. Or pants buttons.—maybe he just wanted to test out his seduction skills before putting them to use elsewhere.

All maybes, and Glenn could sit and work them around and around in his head for the rest of his life without having any concrete answers.

Or, he could go to work, come home and clean up, then re-attach his balls—since they’d apparently went into hiding after the kitchen incident—and ask James, face to face, what was going on with that display yesterday.

Just the thought of seeing James again, hearing his voice, set Glenn’s pulse to racing.

He figured he did well only nicking himself twice while shaving, as he thought up scenarios for how the night could go.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” James muttered again, even as his dick throbbed hard and full against his thigh. Groaning at the discomfort that caused, he stripped off his jeans and boxers and put on a pair of sweats. He’d been hard more often than not since yesterday, but strangely reluctant to do anything about it. Something was brewing in the air, building inside www.total-e-bound.com

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him, and he didn’t want to let the anticipation diminish because he couldn’t keep from beating off—although if it kept up much longer, he’d have to, or suffer some sort of permanent brain damage from blood loss upstairs.

But he’d replayed every incident with Glenn over in his head, every conversation, every look, even the ones he’d rather forget. There was something very important there, in every encounter he’d had with Glenn, and James couldn’t believe it’d taken him so long to realise it. And it pissed him off in nine different directions that Rollins had fucked with him so much that he
had
missed seeing Glenn’s interest. It pissed him off even more that he’d been too fucked up to do anything about it even if he had noticed.

James didn’t dwell on what had happened to him, per se, but he didn’t shy away from it. If something occurred that brought about a flashback or even just memories, he did his best to figure out what and why. Sometimes it made no sense; he’d be having a perfectly good day, nothing at all like the ones when he was held captive, then a flashback would slam into him and knock him on his ass. Maybe it was triggered by a thought, a sound, a scent—

James didn’t have every detail of his time in hell memorised, not in his conscious memory.

He thought it was better that way, otherwise he might never fully recover. But he sure hated it when the past came out of nowhere and ploughed over him.

He hoped it wouldn’t happen in front of Glenn—and there would be a time, soon, when the two of them would be together, alone. There was unfinished business, at least on James’ part, and he was pretty sure on Glenn’s part. Otherwise, why had the man been making daily drive-bys?

James closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself getting in a car and driving to Glenn’s place, wherever it was. His heartbeat accelerated immediately and a cold sweat broke out over his body. His fingers and toes tingled as his breath shortened, and James cursed himself, his parents, he cursed Rollins and everyone else who’d ever hurt him. Then he forced himself to breathe deeply, to unclench his fists and relax each muscle group one by one. His reaction frustrated him which, in turn, began to undo all the calm James had managed to gather.

“Fuck it,” he rasped, opening his eyes and stumbling towards the bathroom. Dots in shades of black were dancing before his eyes when he opened the medicine cabinet. He www.total-e-bound.com

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grabbed the bottle he thought was Xanax and quickly took the lid off, grateful his desperation lent him the wits to get past the childproof cap quickly.

Once James had taken the anxiety medicine, he tried again to calm himself, having more success this time than the last. He hated having to use drugs to function, and rarely resorted to the Xanax, except when the panic came on too strong. James turned the sink on and cupped his hands under the faucet. The icy water soothed his heated face when he splashed it, and gradually, James relaxed enough to slap the toilet seat down and droop on the seat. He eyeballed the vial and saw that he had at least taken the right stuff, then he slumped over, trying not to think about whether it was gross or not to rest his head against the toilet tank.

The porcelain tank lid felt cold against his wet cheek, but James didn’t care. He closed his eyes and dreamed of standing in the yard, touching himself while Glenn watched him with hungry eyes.

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Glenn huffed out a nervous breath as he checked himself out in the mirror. He didn’t want to look stodgy, and he didn’t want to look slutty. He wanted something in the middle, and hoped the loose fit Levi’s and the long sleeved navy blue shirt—which happened to set off his eyes, making them appear silver rather than their usual blue-grey—suited the appearance he was aiming for. Casual. Friendly. Not seductive. And not creepy stalkerish.

And
not
a guy who came in his pants just from watching another man touch his goddamned nipple.
Jesus!

And now he had an erection to go with the scarlet flush staining his cheeks. Glenn groaned and closed his eyes, slapping a hand over them for good measure. How was he going to pull this off? He couldn’t possibly look at James without thinking about the other day! Glenn had thought of little else since, and now he’d decided to approach James, he’d probably pop wood and James would think he was a pervert, and Glenn wanted the man so bad his teeth ached from it.

“Stop it. God!” He scrubbed his hand over his face, opening his eyes afterwards. A look in the mirror had him grimacing; he still had ruddy stripes on his cheeks. Glenn turned the sink on and splashed cool water over his face several times, then stopped and cursed when he saw he’d wetted the cuffs of his shirt. After Glenn dealt with that small mess, tossing the shirt in the dryer rather than spending another half hour trying to decide on a different shirt, he tried to imagine how the next few hours would play out.

Would James even open his door once Glenn had knocked? Or would he ignore him?

And if James did open the door, what then? Glenn wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to James—every time he tried to figure it out, the best he could come up with was an apology and some probably creepy stuff about how he’d been obsessed with James from the moment Glenn had read his file. Although, obsessed wasn’t the right word. Glenn was afraid what he felt was something stronger, something permanent that couldn’t be eradicated by time or distance.

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Hell, he hadn’t even been able to put distance between them, not really. But he knew he’d been hiding regardless. Why should James believe he wanted to be a part of his life, wanted to be a lover and a friend, when Glenn had been too scared to even come around him since that day in James’ kitchen when he’d rightfully kicked Glenn’s ass? Granted, he hadn’t seen it for that at first, had thought he was acceding to James’ wishes, but he hadn’t ever asked, had he? James might have wanted him to go away at first, but what if, during all this time, James had wished for it to be different between them? Glenn wouldn’t know, not unless James went through Chase or Xavier or someone else they both knew, and he didn’t think James would do that, just like he wouldn’t do it. So he’d left them both in a quandary—

if James was interested.

If he wasn’t interested, then that show out in the front yard was just plain cruel, and Glenn didn’t think James was a cruel man. He had to wonder, though, what it had cost James to do that. Had it been hard for him to show what was definitely a sexual side to himself?

Glenn’s eyes widened. Did James think that was all Glenn wanted? Because, while the display had been nice—okay, it’d been fucking hot—Glenn would have been happier just to have a conversation with the man. Or was it that James just wanted sex? Had he got to the point where he was ready and saw Glenn as the easiest available possibility?

This is getting me nowhere!
Glenn huffed and shook his head as if to make his thoughts fall into line. He’d concluded earlier that James was the only one who’d be able to answer those sorts of questions. It was time Glenn got some answers, and maybe, if James wanted to listen, gave a few answers of his own.

The Xanax had worn off but so had the panic, so James was feeling relatively good.

Relatively, because he was still trying to figure out how to get to Glenn’s without setting off another attack, and, almost as importantly, without letting everyone else know what he was doing. He loved his friends, was grateful to them, but they tended to watch him like a hawk eyeballing a field mouse—well okay, they didn’t have that whole I’m gonna eat you thing going on, but still. He wanted some time to figure out what was going on between Glenn and himself, and whether he was ready for something if there
was
anything going on.

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The best he could come up with was that he would have to do the whole yard thing again without the whole attempted seduction stuff. Maybe he could stand at the end of the sidewalk and hold up a sign, “Glenn will you please come talk to me?” or “Glenn: Do you like me? Circle yes or no.” He could draw little hearts and butterflies…

The very idea made James laugh, because he wasn’t acting much more mature than that, if at all. He wanted to be well, to be the man he used to be. Neither of those might ever come to complete fruition, but he could be a damn sight better than this mooning, emotionally stunted person.

Looking at it logically, he was going to have to swallow his pride and dread of being questioned to death and ask Chase for Glenn’s number or address, or both. Or ask him to pass his along to Glenn. Or, he could flag Glenn down the next time he drove by. But he was suddenly too eager to wait, maybe it was one of those mood swings, or maybe he was really, finally on the right course.

Either way, he jumped up off the couch and headed to the bedroom, feeling more energised than he had in a while. He paused, heart fluttering in his throat, when he heard the purr of an engine pulling into the drive. Instead of fear pulsing inside him, a strange, and possibly misplaced, sense of anticipation filled him.

James turned around and walked to through the living room just as the engine shut off. When the sound of a car door slamming didn’t immediately follow, he took a deep breath and willed his palms to stop sweating, a nervous reaction he hadn’t had since he’d been a boy, but now seemed to plague him regularly. James started to go peek out of the window, then changed his mind and went to the door instead. If it was Glenn, he didn’t want to appear to be some scared person hiding behind curtains.