I ran my large fingers through his blond hair and cradled his head against the crook of my neck, listening as he uttered, “Harry, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I told you all this. I never meant to…”
But I quietened him with slow rocking motions. “Shhh, it’s alright, Dean. I’m here for you. I’ll protect you no matter what. I’ll stop whoever’s doing this to you. I’ll make everything alright, I promise.”
He pulled his head from my neck to look at me. Tears had reddened his blue eyes. “You will?”
I nodded. “Oh yes. Oh God yes.”
I suddenly realized how close our faces were, his sweet teary breath mingling with mine.
I suddenly realized how intensely he was gazing into my eyes.
I suddenly realized I needed to kiss him.
Ihadto kiss him.
I… I…
I sat back. I pulled my fingers from his hair and clasped both his shoulders in my hands, like an uncle giving his nephew a reassuring squeeze for luck before a big game. “We’re going to get you through this. We’re going to make sure nobody hurts you. And we’re going to figure out who the hell is sending you those letters. Just tell me what I need to do first.”
He looked pained.
He looked bewildered.
Then he seemed to process his next steps, and with a nod of his head he said, “I think I need to find somewhere for Astrid and Bogdan to stay. Benji and Bastian’s is the only place in town. Do you… do you think you could drive me over there so I can book them in?”
“Of course.”
I moved to stand but he grabbed my arm. “Harry, I don’t want anyone to know about the letters. Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Especially not my dad.”
I wanted to hug him again.
I wanted to hold him in my arms till the end of time.
Instead, I simply nodded. “I promise.”
DEAN
He had heldme in his arms.
He had cradled my head against him, and I could smell him, almost taste him, feel the hairs on his neck brush gently against my cheek, my nose, my lips.
God, I thought for a second he was going to lean in and kiss me.
My heart ached and swelled at the same time, thinking about what might have been had he kissed me.
Would the day ever come?
The swelling in my chest subsided, leaving only that lasting, lingering ache.
Of course that day would never come.
Harry was straight, you idiot. He’d probably already planned his first date with Madeline. Anyone could see that courtship coming a mile away. They were perfect for each other—similar ages, normal careers, both good-looking and funny and hell, I could practically hear the wedding bells already.
And yet, walking up the steps to Benji and Bastian’s BnB, I still desperately wanted to reach out and take his hand, or at least entwine my fingers with his, or at least brush my knuckles against his knuckles. I longed to touch him once more, and found myself trying to think of ways I could… and get away with it.
Before I knew it we were standing on the porch, and his hand was reaching for the big brass doorknob of the BnB’s front door.
I quickly reached for it too, seeing a chance to “accidentally” touch him.
