“Ain’t nobody complained tonight, so I must have done okay. Norv and Ryder said to tell you goodbye. They went on home.”
“They did? You didn’t tell me they were leaving.” He didn’t know whether that would have changed anything, but he wished he’d known. “Where are they headed?”
Small-talking around everything, searching for normal, wasn’t working for him.
“Home, I reckon. They just decided to go. It was time. Norv don’t do chilly weather.” Colt chuckled softly. “He’ll holler when he figures out what all we did that might sell.”
“Do you want to come over?”
There. If Colt turned him down, at least he could say he tried.
There was a long pause, then, “Sure, cher. Give me a bit to get over there. I’ll text when I get close, ’kay?”
“Yeah. Good. Okay. I’ll be waiting.” Happily. So much better than this awkward phone call. He needed to look at those eyes.
He let Colt hang up first, then pulled on a pair of PJ bottoms and headed down to the kitchen to wait. God, he was terrible at waiting. He pulled out a couple of wineglasses and poured himself half a glass.
It took a while for the text to come, but it did, and soon Colt tapped on the door. Colt stood there in a dark hoodie and a pair of worn jeans. “Evenin’, cher. How goes?”
“I’m….” He just couldn’t play along. He sighed and shook his head. “You look so tired, baby.”
“Been working some hours. You gon’ let me in, or we gon’ visit on your porch?” Colt smiled for him, the look quiet, not quite right.
“Oh. What am I thinking? Come in. Sorry. You want some wine?” He stepped out of Colt’s way and let him in, heading for the kitchen. He wanted a kiss. He wanted to put his arms around Colt and make this okay.
“Sure.” Colt took his shoes off, hung his hoodie by the door, the sounds normal, easy. “You have a decent show?”
“It was good. We’re in a nice rhythm now. It feels great.” He poured a glass of wine for Colt and refilled his. “Are you hungry for anything?”
He found himself second-guessing everything he did. Would he normally have kissed Colt by now? Should he? Was he asking the right questions? This was torture. What was the matter with him?
“I ain’t, no. I had pizza for supper.” Colt sat, watching him. “Sit, cher. You as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs. I ain’t gon’ bite.”
“I am a little.” He set Colt’s wine down and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I’m glad you’re here. Do you have to be somewhere in the morning? I listened to your tracks today. They’re wonderful. Perfect. You didn’t name them, you know. You should. I spent a bunch of time with the first one, the really upbeat one? I thought you might be interested in seeing what I’ve got so far.”
That was good, right? Make sure Colt knew he liked them. They were everything he’d asked for. Both of them.
Colt shrugged and took his hand, tracing his fingers. “They ain’t got names, so call them what you will, and I’m working from noon to ten tomorrow, but I know you’re up and out before that.”
That felt good, more real than anything else between them right now. The touch continued, even if the words didn’t. Colt seemed willing to just sit there with him.
He lifted Colt’s hand and kissed every one of the callused fingers. “Maybe another time, then. I want you to get some rest, baby. Let’s take our wine up and turn in.”
“Sounds good.” Colt stood and helped him up, then led him to the bedroom.
So Colt was there, but he wasn’t… Colt. The look in his eyes wasn’t his Colt. His energy wasn’t right. He was making the right moves, seemed fine about being there, but he was unmistakably different.
Once they were through the bedroom door, Kyle tugged Colt close and kissed him, trying to remind him what he meant, how important he still was.
How much he still wanted this.
Colt opened for him, hands warm and solid on his hips, holding him carefully, thumbs drawing lazy circles. He tested a little, not sure which Colt wanted more. Sleep, or… this. Him. He ran his hands under Colt’s shirt and up his chest.
“Come to bed, hmm? I’ll love on you.” Colt let Kyle pull his shirt up and off.
He smiled and relaxed a little. That was good, right? They’d figure this out. “Yeah. I’d like that.” He slid fingers under Colt’s waistband and gave his jeans a tug, then slipped out of his PJs and climbed into bed.
Colt stripped the rest of the way down, slid in next to him, warm and close, lips hot on his throat.