Looking for Trouble(52)
His emotions for Dylan were so raw, so honest. Clay knew all he had to do was surrender himself to them.
“I want you too.”
“Even if I am an old man?” He’d meant it as a joke, but Dylan’s frown told him he didn’t find it very funny.
“You’re not old.”
“I was kidding, though obviously I’m not very good at it.” He sighed, then lay on his back and said, “Come here.”
Dylan came easily, letting Clay wrap an arm around him. He rested his head on Clay’s shoulder, his left leg slung over Clay’s thighs. “Tell me about him.”
“I was about to.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
He laughed and kissed the top of Dylan’s head. “There you go again, causing trouble, Trouble.”
Dylan put a hand on Clay’s chest, ran his fingers through the hair there, and Clay thought he could do this every day forever.
“I was finally being honest with myself. After what felt like a lifetime, I was being open about who I was. I’d told Renée, and we’d separated. I felt so guilty for hurting her, even though she was understanding. She’s honestly the best. I don’t know that I deserve her.”
“You don’t seem to think you deserve much, Clay, but you do.”
Clay nodded even though he wasn’t sure he felt the same. “I’d always wanted a tattoo, though I’d never known what to get. I was a bit lost in my life—didn’t know what I wanted; I knew who I was in some ways but was hardly floating above water in others. I was starting over in my late thirties. I wasn’t happy in my career. I’d never fought for anything I wanted. I’d never taken any risks. The first one I took was getting a tattoo. Hell, I didn’t even make an appointment. I was in Raleigh and saw a place, and something just made me stop. I walked inside, and…there he was.”
A warmth spread through Clay’s chest at the memory. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t painful to think about him. He remembered the joy in that moment and held tightly to it. “You saw the picture. He was gorgeous—that red hair and freckles. His black-framed glasses and neatly pressed collared shirts, paired with the tattoos on his arms. He was interesting to me from the start. He was a bookworm, so fucking smart, but also this free spirit that couldn’t be held down.”
Dylan tensed against him.
“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Is it too much?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I want to hear about him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s a weird feeling, hearing you talk about him, but I’m honored you are too…and I want in on this part of your life.”
Clay squeezed him tighter, kissed the top of his head again, and continued. “He started the phoenix on my back that day. Phoenix means rebirth. It felt right. Afterward, we went to his place…talked. We didn’t stop talking. And we…you know. That was it—that day, that soon, I knew I was in love with him. He was so different from anyone I’d ever known, and he made me want to be different as well. I started welding, creating things. It was like being honest with myself opened up this whole part of me I didn’t know was there. I was creating art. He taught me to tattoo. It’s not something I ever considered, but I fell in love with it. I felt like I’d just started living. I felt alive for the first time in my life.”
Dylan kissed his chest. “I’m glad you had him. He sounds like a great guy.”
“He was,” Clay replied softly. “We fell right into being a couple. We got the house together and had a few great years together. Then one day he went to work and never came home. He had a massive heart attack, which I still struggle to come to terms with. Gordon was healthy. He ate right and was fit, but his heart just gave out on him. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.”
There was the pain he was familiar with. It battered away at his heart, making it hard to breathe.
Dylan pushed up onto his elbows. “Your sad eyes are back. They went away for a while.”
“Because of you,” Clay admitted. “And they’ll go away again because of you too.” That didn’t mean he didn’t love Gordon, it didn’t mean he didn’t miss him. He’d probably always love him and miss him, but Christ, Dylan was like a balm to his soul. Healed him in ways Clay didn’t think were possible.
“Wow…you make me sound pretty incredible.”
“You are. I can tell you that Gordon would have been shocked to see me out there dancing with you tonight. That was one thing he tried and never succeeded to get from me. You saw my moves. I’m sure you can tell why.”
“You were great!” Dylan replied, but they both knew he wasn’t.
They chuckled, but then Dylan sobered. His blue eyes penetrated every bit of armor Clay thought he had around himself. “I’m sorry you lost him. That wasn’t fair; you deserved better. But I’m glad you had him.”
“I’m glad I have you.”
Dylan smiled, an infectious fucking smile that Clay caught immediately. It was impossible not to feel the passion, the happiness radiate from him. “Even if I’m trouble?” Dylan asked.
“You’re the best kind of trouble.”
Dylan climbed on top of him, straddled him, and pressed their lips together. Clay grabbed his ass, squeezed, savored it as their tongues moved together with familiarity.