Inseparable (7 page)

“Everyone really just wanted to see that you were okay. We love you.”

I’ve always thought of Joe’s family as
Joe’s
family, but tonight is different. Tonight I see how

worried they are, and I realize what they’ve tried to tell me all along—they’re my family too. I feel

awful for not understanding before. “Hey, I know.” I rub her shoulder to show that I’m not angry.

“Thanks.”

She sniffles and wipes at her wet eyes. “So, what’s up with you and Joe tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re like, all avoiding each other, but Joey can’t stop looking at you. And he’s slamming

back
grappa
like it’s water. He hates that stuff. Did you have a fight or something?”

I groan. There go my plans for the rest of the night. “Shit. Will you take it away from him? You

know he can’t hold the hard stuff.”

“What?” Maria catches my slipup. I forgot she knows me almost as well as Joe.

“Uh, nothing,” I stammer, but Maria’s not buying it. I’m still scrambling for an excuse as Joe

strides into the tiny bathroom. Without hesitation he walks straight up to me, pinning me between him

and the vanity, and wraps his arms around my waist.

“You kissed me,” he says, pouting his lips in a sexy way I’ve never seen him do before. God,

drunk and flirty Joe is adorable. “Why did you kiss me? We can’t go back now.”

“Oh, Joe,” I sigh. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You kissed him?” Maria squeals. “OMG. Are you guys finally together?”

“I’m trying here, but—Wait, what do you mean
finally
?”

“We
all
know how Joey feels about you. It’s no secret.”

“Well it is—was—to me.” Joe starts slobbering kisses on my neck, which should be a turn off,

but definitely isn’t, and I end up tilting my head slightly to give him better access.

“Are you kidding?” Maria gapes. “I still remember the day he came home from summer camp

and announced he was going to marry you. Why do you think none of us were surprised when he came

out?”

“Maria,” Joe groans into my shoulder, obviously embarrassed.

“Can you give us a minute?” I ask. “And Maria, keep a lid on this for now?” Maria mimes

zipping up her lips, but her eyes are dancing with excitement as she leaves the bathroom, closing the

door behind her so Joe and I can be alone.

I let my hand drift into Joe’s thick curls and close my eyes. How many times I’ve wanted to do

this. “Did you really say that?”

“I may have,” he mumbles. “I was just a kid. I didn’t know any better.”

“I think I like you like this. You’d be really cute if your breath weren’t a hundred proof.” Joe

laughs against my neck and then flicks his tongue in my ear. I tremble in response. “Oh, Joey, you’re

making this really hard.”

“I know. I can feel it.” He punctuates his words by grabbing my ass with both hands and

squeezing.

“Hey, cut that out. Your parents are right outside this door.”

“They already know how I feel.”

“Yeah, but if they see us, it will lead to all sorts of questions and they’ll never leave.”

I feel him heave a big sigh. “You’re right.”

“And I really want them to leave, Joe.”

Joe straightens and rests his forehead against mine. He drags in an unsteady breath. “God, you’re

sexy.”

I make a face. “Yeah right, what turns you on more, the black eyes or the busted ribs?”

“Your mouth.” He brushes his thumb across my lower lip and my breath catches. There’s a heat

in his gaze I haven’t seen before—that he hasn’t
let
me see before—and it’s burning me up. “Do you

know how many times I…?” He shakes his head but doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to. I know exactly

what he’s thinking, because I’ve had those thoughts too.

Grasping his arms, I pry our bodies apart even though everything in me wants to hold on. I hand

him my glass of water and make him drink it despite his protests. “I want you sober. We need to talk

later.”

“Talking’s overrated.”

“Normally I’d agree with you. But in our case, I think that’s the problem—we stopped talking

about the important stuff.”

“Talking, right.” With a lingering look at my mouth, Joe nods reluctantly.

I spin him around. “Now go tell your family I need my rest.”

WITH Maria’s help, the Massone
famiglia
is rounded up and prodded into coats and boots. All the

while my stomach is doing flip-flops.
Joe thinks I’m sexy. Wow
. There’s another round of hugs and

kisses, and no one will leave until I promise to come for Christmas dinner tomorrow, even if only for

a few hours. Most surprisingly of all, Joe’s dad kisses me on both cheeks and folds me against his

barrel chest in a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll call you tomorrow to get all the juicy details,” Maria whispers in my ear as she leaves.

Then, almost as quickly as they appeared, they are gone, and Joe and I are finally alone.

I’ve never felt this awkward before, certainly not with Joe, who knows me better than I know

myself. But this is new and scary, and I’m terrified I’ll mess it up. Joe is obviously struggling with

some similar thoughts, but at least he seems to have sobered up. “I’ll, uh, be right back and then I’ll

clean up.”

While Joe is in the bathroom, I turn off all the lights, so only the twinkling multicolored

Christmas lights on our sad little tree illuminate the room. Joe’s family was considerate enough to

load the dishwasher before leaving, so there’s not much to do but sit down and wait.

When Joe emerges into the darkened room a few minutes later, he falters. “What are you doing?”

“Come here,” I order softly. He comes with halting steps and stands in front of me, so I have to

look at up him. I can’t decipher his expression, and I don’t like that. I hate not knowing what he’s

thinking. “With the accident and everything, I didn’t have time to get you a present.”

“That’s okay. You’re still alive. Trust me—I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“Ask for more, Joe. You might be surprised at the answer you get.”

He takes a deep breath. “You’re not yourself. I think we really have to go back to the hospital

tomorrow.”

“I’m fine, Joe.” It’s time to come clean. “I remember everything.”

“What? When?”

“Last night,” I tell him. Joe’s lips compress in a tight line. “Don’t be angry. I just needed some

more time—”

“Time to what? Make fools of us?”

“No, never.” How can I explain this to him? “You were going to leave me! You were going to

leave me and I didn’t know what to do. Why, Joe?”

He sits down beside me on the couch, dejected. A rainbow of color flickers across his face from

the Christmas lights. Joe draws one knee up to his chest and folds his arms across it. The muscles in

his throat work as he struggles to find words. I wait. Finally he turns his head and pierces me with

those chocolate eyes. I can’t look away. “I’m in love with you—have been for a long time. Forever it

seems like. I just couldn’t bear it anymore. I thought… I needed to move on and moving out seemed

like the only option left.”

I ease closer, wincing at the shift in position, and rest my chin on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t

keep things like that from me.”

“Really?” His voice drips sarcasm. “Look who’s talking.” I trace the seam of his jeans along his

thigh, fascinated by the firm muscle underneath. He covers my hand with his and squeezes, not gently

either. “How long, Adam?”

I’m tempted to lie because I can feel his anger simmering below the surface, but if we’re going

to do this—and I
really
want to do this—I know honesty is the only way from here on in. “A long

time.”

“Fuck, Adam, why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“You know how I grew up—what my dad was like. I really tried to ignore it for a long time,

pretend it wasn’t happening. Once I finally admitted it to myself, I wasn’t sure you would feel the

same. I mean just because you were gay and I was… confused, it didn’t automatically mean you

would want me. Why would someone like you want me? If I said something, it could ruin our

friendship forever, and I couldn’t bear to lose what we already had. I’d rather be miserable with you

than not be with you at all.”

Joe snorted. “Ditto.”

“We used to share everything. When did that stop?”

“About the time I got too scared to tell you how I felt.”

“I’m serious about this, Joe. I’m not confused anymore. If you think about it, we’re already in a

relationship—we’re just not having sex. Now, if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to have the sex.”

He’s still hesitant, so I lean forward and close the gap between us, cupping his jaw to hold him

in place as I brush his lips with mine. I press light kisses to the corners of his mouth, down the strong

column of his throat. “It’s soft,” I murmur.

“What?”

“Your beard—stubble, whatever you call it. It’s soft. I always wondered.” I rub my lips against

his cheek, loving the sensation. “It tickles.”

Joe sucks in a shaky breath. “I spent so long trying not to think of you like this,” he confesses in a

hoarse whisper.

I still in my explorations. “I know.”

“I need you to be sure, Adam. I can’t…,” he trails off, voice cracking.

It breaks my heart to see him so vulnerable. I try not to dwell on how much time we’ve wasted

being afraid. Instead I meet his gaze and will him to see everything I’ve held back. “I’m sure. More

sure of this than of anything else in my life.”

Joe shifts position, rolling me slightly to the right so that I’m seated more comfortably, and my

head falls back against the cushions. He follows, leaning in over me and trailing wet, open-mouthed

kisses across my unshaven jaw. My hand burrows in his hair, holding him closer, tugging him to

where I want him, where I need him to be. Finally when our lips and tongues meet, it’s achingly slow

and soft and, oh my God, can the man ever kiss.

I love the way he tastes—minty, like toothpaste or mouthwash, and I smile against his mouth. I

love the feel of his strong hand wrapped around my neck, holding me steady as he always has. But

most of all, I love that I am finally free to do this. It’s only reluctantly that I have to push him back so I

can breathe again.

“Are you sure you’re back to normal?” he asks. “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and this is

all a mistake.”

He’s not just teasing. The trace of fear in his voice humbles me. “I’m still me, I swear.” A

particular memory leaps into my mind. “Remember that Halloween when I talked you into TP’ing

Mrs. Kruszelnicki’s house? You got caught and your dad grounded you for three weeks, and you never

ratted me out, even though, of course, everyone knew I had to be involved.”

“And you climbed up in that big maple tree and took down every bit of toilet paper yourself.”

“I felt so guilty for getting you in trouble.” We share a grin. I swallow my sudden uncertainty.

“So, I was thinking, uh, maybe I could be your present this year?” I snap my elastic waistband for

emphasis, but it’s hard to look sexy in plaid flannel.

“Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“Try me,” I quip, waving my hand toward my crotch, where my dick is stirring, a little slower

than before, but definitely still interested. Joe grins wickedly, looking every inch the pirate, and leans

in for another searing, distracting kiss, so I’m unprepared when he slides his hand down the front of

my pajamas and boldly strokes me. My entire body clenches in reaction, and the pain streaks across

my torso. I let out a string of random curses in between shaky breaths. When I can finally open my

eyes again, I see Joe trying very hard not to laugh. I groan. “I guess I hadn’t really considered the

logistics of this. This isn’t going to happen tonight, is it?”

“Not unless you have superhuman healing powers I don’t know about.”

“Fuck, I am so not waiting six weeks to get laid.”

“We could always put a bag of frozen peas on that.” The bastard doesn’t even try to hide his

smirk.

“I swear you’re enjoying this.”

“Maybe just a little.” He kisses me again—just gentle nibbles until he has thoroughly distracted

me from the pain. When he lifts his head, I’m breathless, but in a good way. “I don’t mind waiting.”

He smiles. “You do remember that I like to take my time opening presents, right?”

I remember Joe painstakingly peeling off every ribbon and bow, picking at the tape so that he

wouldn’t tear the paper. I shiver in anticipation. It’s going to be a long, frustrating recovery. “Just

don’t return this one okay?”

His eyes widen in protest. “That was one time dude, three years ago! And you got me some lame

Christmas sweater.”

I laugh softly and lean my head on Joe’s shoulder. “And what about moving out?”

“I doubt I would have even got past the front door. You and me, we belong together.”

“Like Batman and Robin.”

Joe frowns in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

I can’t stop grinning. “Never mind,” I tell him. “It doesn’t matter.” I feel lightheaded and giddy,

and I didn’t even take any of the good stuff. This is the best Christmas ever. Wrapping my hand in the