What He Left Behind (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Nothing caps off a weekend and gets me ready for another week of drudgery like kicking back with the guys in the hot tub. We toast the fading weekend and the coming week, and relax.

“One of these days,” Michael says, sinking in up to his chin and holding up his glass to keep it out of the water, “I am so moving into a place with a hot tub like this.”

“You looking to move?” Ian asks.

Michael shrugs. “I’ve thought about it. I do like where I’m living now, though. It’s just tempting to move somewhere with a yard for Cody and, well”—he grins—“a hot tub.”

I chuckle. “They’re a pain in the ass.”

“So are you,” Ian says with a smirk. “But you’re worth the maintenance.”

“Hey!” I playfully kick him under the water, and he laughs and splashes me. Then I turn to Michael again. “If you’re thinking of buying, I can hook you up with the realtor who found us this place.”

Michael nods. “I’ll keep it in mind. Honestly, I do like my place. And the rent is good, but maybe when I finish off my student loans, I’ll start thinking about it.” With a quiet laugh, he adds, “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for me to buy a place, though.”

“Why’s that?” Ian asks.

“Because at the moment, the only thing keeping me from having forty-seven dogs and a bunch of cats is my landlord’s pet policy.”

“Oh, good point.” Ian swirls his glass. “You could always buy in one of those places with a homeowner’s association. I mean, they’re annoying as hell, but they would put a cap on how many critters you can have.”

“True, true. I don’t know. Maybe I just need a big chunk of property out in the sticks. The commute would suck, but I’d have room for more than one dog.”

“Let me guess.” I arch my eyebrow. “So you can have a whole army of horses?”

“And goats.”

“And goats. Of course.”

Michael laughs. He brings his glass toward his lips, but pauses. “Oh, Ian, I mean to ask. How are your feet doing?”

“Much better,” Ian says. “The massage sure helped, and I’ve been sitting as much as I can during my lectures. Having the summer off should finish the job.”

I pat his arm. “Soon.”

“Not soon enough,” he grumbles and picks up his glass. “Good thing I’ve got Dionysus to get me through the rest of the year.”

“Nerd,” I say under my breath.

He snorts. “Oh please. You say that like you don’t get turned on listening to me read the classics out loud.”

Michael almost spits out his wine. “Say what?”

“It’s true.” Ian drains his glass. As he reaches for the bottle, he adds, “Isn’t it, Josh?”

My face burns. “Only because you read it like you’re reading erotica. It could be the damned phone book and it’d have the same effect.”

“Hmm. Might have to try—oh shit!” Ian turns the bottle over above his glass, but only a few drops spill out. “Gentlemen, I believe we’re out of wine.”

“
Again?
” Michael scoffs. “Why does this keep
happening
?”

I set my glass on the edge. “We should just move the wine rack out here. For convenience.”

“What?” Ian rolls his eyes. “The temperature would be all wrong. That’s why we bought a house with a wine cellar, remember?”

“Right, right.” I nod toward the house. “That’s also why you get to go get it.”

“Of course.” He kisses my cheek and stands. “More of the same?”

Michael raises his mostly empty glass. “Definitely. This stuff is great.”

“Beats the hell out of the stuff you brought last weekend.”

“Hey.
Hey
.” Michael huffs and rolls his eyes. “Excuse me for wanting to try something new.”

“Oh, it was a valiant effort, but…” Ian wrinkles his nose as he stands and wades toward the side so he can get out. “A for effort, I guess?”

“Mmhmm. Shall we talk about the pitiful excuse for a shiraz you brought out here before Christmas?”

I can’t help gagging at the memory. “Oh my God. He wins, Ian. Nothing will ever out-disgusting that bottle.”

“Fair enough. Touché, Michael.” Ian laughs and playfully claps Michael’s shoulder as he gets out of the tub.

And Michael isn’t fazed at all. He chuckles and takes another drink, but he doesn’t draw away. Doesn’t jump. Barely seems to notice that Ian touched him at all, never mind on uncovered skin. It shouldn’t be a surprise after that foot massage a while back, but it
does
get me thinking.

Michael meets my eyes and cocks his head. “What?”

“You don’t seem to mind being touched anymore.” I nod toward Ian just before he disappears into the kitchen. “Even with him.”

“I—well, not with either of you guys.”

I smile. “Good. That’s good. You used to flinch even from us.”

His eyes lose focus for a moment, and then he smiles too. “I guess you’re right.”

I absently swirl what’s left of my wine. “Remember how we talked about you being concerned about getting into bed with a guy you’ve never been with before?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Maybe there’s an easier step you could take first. With someone you know and trust but haven’t slept with before.”

Michael’s about to take a sip of wine but freezes, staring at me. Then his eyes dart toward the house, and he nearly drops the glass in the water. “Wait, do you mean—”

“Yes, I do.” I shrug, eyeing the kitchen door in case Ian starts heading back this way, and as I speak, tick off the points on my fingers. “You know him. You seem to be okay with touching him and him touching you. And I can vouch for him being completely sane and safe in the bedroom.” I lower my hand back into the water. “It’s something we can think about. Doesn’t have to happen tonight.”

Michael watches the kitchen door. “Actually, I like the idea. And the sooner the better—I want these demons out of my head. Ian’s the perfect guy for this if he’s on board.” He pauses, avoiding my eyes for a second. “I, uh, was kind of thinking of suggesting him myself.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He moistens his lips. “Do you think he’ll want to?”

“Not sure. I thought he was allergic to anything besides monogamy until recently, so anything’s possible.”

“Worth a shot.”

The sliding glass door opens. Ian’s on his way back now.

Michael and I exchange glances.

“It can wait,” I say quietly.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m in.” As he watches Ian cross the yard, dressed only in soaked black swim trunks and carrying a bottle of wine, he grins. “I’m definitely in.”

I chuckle. “Dirty bastard.”

“Not my fault you married a hot guy.” He winks.

“Can’t argue with that. But—” I glance at Ian, who’s nearly at the gazebo, and whisper, “You sure?”

Michael nods.

Ian slips back into the water and tops off all our glasses. As he takes his spot beside me, everyone swirls, sips, swallows, but nobody speaks. The silence drags on, and it’s quickly getting conspicuous.

Ian eyes us both suspiciously. “What? You two are quiet all of a sudden.” He gives me a good-natured glare. “Did I interrupt a Walking Dead conversation?”

Michael laughs. “No, not quite.”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

“Then…?” Ian’s forehead creases.

“Uh…” Michael looks at me, eyebrows up.
You got this?

I guess it makes sense for me to be the one to bring it up. Good thing I’m so great at improv. Wait. Fuck.

I clear my throat. “So, um. About this, uh, arrangement Michael and I have right now.”

Ian arches an eyebrow. “Mmhmm?”

I glance at Michael. He nods before taking a deep swallow of wine, and I turn to my husband. “Would you be game to join us?”

“Join—” Ian’s eyes have never been wider. “
Join you?
” He turns to Michael. Then me. Michael again. “Spell this out for me.”

“Well, we started all this because Michael’s been with me before. And now he’s comfortable with me again, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll be okay with someone completely new.”

Michael nods. “So maybe a stepping stone would be someone I know but have never been with.”

Ian blinks. “Like me?”

“Yeah.” Michael cringes a little. “This all sounds insane. If you’re not interested, it won’t hurt my feelings. I’ll find a way to get over all—”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” Ian says softly. He turns to me. “You’re sure about this?”

“I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I wasn’t, don’t you think?”

“Still…”

I take Ian’s hand beneath the water. “It’s ultimately Michael’s decision who he’s comfortable with, but as far as whether I’m okay with you doing it? I can’t imagine anyone I’d trust more. Especially under the circumstances.”

Ian turns to Michael. “And you’d really want me?”

Michael nods, and a sheepish little grin forms. “Quite a bit, to be honest.”

Ian’s blushing now too. “Oh. Wow. Uh, how does…” He clears his throat. “How do we even start? I’m not exactly a virgin, but I’ve never had anything start out like this.”

I laugh. “I guess it
is
a bit weird.”

“Well,” Michael says, “we could start out with, you know, kissing or something.” His cheeks get a little redder, even though they’re already flushed from the wine and the hot tub. “If we like that, we take it from there.” He rubs the bridge of his nose and laughs. “My God. We sound like kids playing Spin the Bottle for the first time.”

“Eh, I can think of worse ways to break the ice.” Ian eyes us both, lips quirked slightly as if he’s mulling it over. Then he shrugs and sets his glass on the edge. “All right. I’m not going to say no.” He glances at me, eyebrows up like he’s waiting for me to shout April Fools! When I don’t, he takes a breath, moves across the tub and sits beside Michael.

Michael drains his glass. He puts it aside, shoots me a quick glance and then turns to Ian. Their eyes lock. My heart speeds up. Didn’t I just bring this up like two minutes ago? And they’re already looking at each other like that?

Ian rests his hand on Michael’s shoulder. They inch closer to each other, holding each other’s gazes and holding their breath, and I realize I’m not breathing either. Michael’s hand slides up Ian’s chest and snakes around the back of his neck. Ian tilts his head a little. Closer. Closer. Almost touching.

They stop. Neither pulls away, but they don’t move either—as if they’re each daring the other to cross the last little gap. My heart could not possibly beat any faster. This is a bad idea, isn’t it?

And both suddenly burst out laughing and separate.

Panic and relief both shoot through my veins—what the hell happened? Okay, it didn’t turn into a flashback or something for Michael. But…?

Ian lets his face fall into his dripping hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Michael rolls his eyes. “I don’t even know what’s funny.”

“Neither do I.” Ian glares at the two wine bottles. “What did you
do
to us, you bastards?”

All three of us laugh this time, partly out of genuine amusement and partly because, at least in my case, I’m worried as fuck about how this thing might play out. We definitely jumped from discussion to execution way too fast—time to rein it back and talk about it before it blows up in our faces.

I open my mouth to speak, but Ian beats me to it.

“I’m really sorry.” He clears his throat, and his tone is completely serious when he continues. “It’s just…”

“Nerves?” Michael asks.

“Just a bit.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Look, I really do want to do this. If you think it’s going to help you move on, then…” Ian twists around, facing him fully. “I want to follow your lead. What do we do?”

“One thing at a time, I guess.” Michael lifts his hand out of the water and reaches for Ian. He pauses, his fingers hovering tentatively as droplets fall in the water right in front of Ian’s chest. They lock eyes again, and Michael moves in closer, this time meeting Ian’s face with his fingertips.

I chew the inside of my cheek.
We should talk this through
.

But Michael’s drawing Ian closer. They’re touching, looking at each other—and like Ian, I want to follow Michael’s lead. So with my heart in my throat, I watch and hope for the best.

Ian runs the backs of his fingers along the edge of Michael’s jaw. “You can trust me. I would never in a million years—”

“I know.” Michael smiles, but there’s tension written all over his tight lips and in his eyes. “It’s PTSD, though. There’s nothing rational when that shit kicks in.”

Ian gulps. “What do you want me to do, then?”

Michael shivers, eyes flicking toward Ian’s lips. “I really want you to kiss me.”

Ian’s other hand rests on Michael’s arm, though I can’t decide if he’s steadying him, slowing him down, or keeping it there in case he suddenly wants to push him back. “Are you… Is this…” He glances at me, eyebrows pinched together. Facing Michael again, he whispers, “I don’t want to make things worse for you.”

And right then and there, I thank God for the man I married—he’s as concerned about Michael as I have been from the beginning, and if ever there was someone I could trust with Michael, it’s definitely him.

“You won’t make it worse.” Michael’s features relax, and he combs his fingers through Ian’s dark hair.

Ian isn’t convinced, though, and draws back. “I…”

“We can stop any time, right?” Michael asks.

“Of course!”

Michael’s smile melts my knees, and he cups Ian’s jaw. “Then you won’t make it worse. As long as we can stop, it’ll be fine.” Now he draws back, though, his smile fading. “But I don’t want to do this if
you
don’t want to.”

“It’s not a question of wanting to.” Ian exhales, running his hand along Michael’s forearm. “Trust me. I definitely want to.”

“Me too.”

They hold each other’s gazes. After a moment, Ian’s lips curve into a grin. Then Michael’s do the same. He leans in, and Ian mirrors him, and I hold my breath, not sure if this is going to be the hottest thing imaginable or a hot mess.

Good God, they’re really doing this. Drawing each other in, gazes darting from eyes to parted lips and back—
please, please, don’t let this backfire.

They’re both all smiles and confidence right up until they’re close enough to kiss, and then they slow down. Michael bites his lip. Ian’s forehead creases.