Rocco leaves guardianship of Mae to Tucker and Sage. Her maternal grandparents are fighting his last wishes. Fortunately, our lawyer is one of the best in the country. Fitz knows what happened with Brooke and her baby. We ask him to make sure that we don’t lose this kid. She is family. Zeke offers to pay all his fees. It doesn’t matter how much he charges us. He has to keep Mae with us.
Our lives become chaos. Zeke and I are in charge of all the legal messes until Tucker moves to Seattle.
My relationship with Zeke falls into a gray area where we’re like a couple, but we don’t define our relationship. This time, instead of having a physical connection, it’s emotional. Maybe when we were young we had that too, but we were too immature to realize what was happening between us.
During the holidays, Zeke begins to warm up to the idea of having Mae around. My chest loosens every time I see him with her. He adores her. Even more, he wants to become her favorite person. He still doesn’t like change, but he knows how to handle new situations.
It’s entertaining to watch Tucker fall in love with Sage. The guy goes from loner to family man within a few months. It’s in May, a year after Rocco came back to us, when we finally breathe easily.
I’m still in limbo. At this point, Zeke and I are too comfortable with each other or maybe too afraid to take the next step. We might not be living in the same house, but we spend all our free time together. His place is my sanctuary. I want a lot more from him, but I won’t take it until I place the last piece of myself where it belongs. I need to be whole.
It’s a Thursday night. We’re on the rooftop listening to jazz, drinking tea, and reading by the fire. Hannah swears we’re like an old couple. We’re not. We just do things differently because that’s what we need. There’s just one detail that we haven’t approached.
“Tomorrow, I’m visiting my mother,” I announce.
Zeke arches an eyebrow. “You skipped Christmas, but you’re going for… What are we celebrating this weekend? Memorial Day isn’t until the week after.”
“Coming out of the closet day,” I mumble.
He scratches his neck. “What if we send her a pamphlet: So, your son is bisexual.”
I laugh. “And miss her expression when I tell her that I’m in love with a man?” I shake my head.
It’d be easy if it were just telling her that I’m bisexual for the first time. This is a lot more. It’s saying, “I lied to myself and to you about who I am. What you swear was a teenage stage that went away is me. I am bisexual. It’s my making. Love me as I am. But see, the reason I hid was to avoid getting killed or beaten and to have the love and respect of my mother.”
It’s a conversation that can’t wait, and it isn’t easy. I know what’s at stake, or maybe I’ve been dragging this far enough because the result will be painful. She’s not going to accept me.
“You could call her,” he says in a murmur, and then he extends his hands, grabbing mine. “Tomorrow is the end of the year festival at the academy. I can’t go with you.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
I have to do it for myself. I need that teenager to know that it was never him, but her. I need to know that I tried everything before my relationship with my mother went from difficult to nonexistent.
“Sounds bitching,” he mumbles, a flash of fear lights his gaze. “Do you think it’s safe? I mean, she almost killed you. You might be older, wiser, and taller, but a gun is…”
He pulls me into his arms. “I’ll die if I lose you.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I assure him.
I want to cry for the kid that lived to make his mother happy and never could. The teenager who lived in fear. Us, who couldn’t enjoy what we had because we were too broken. We hold onto each other, watching the fire burn with the bitter memories that stole our childhood.
“This is the last piece,” I say, trying not to kiss him because I need him inside me to give me courage, but I won’t ask for it until I deserve it. “I have to find it and set it where it belongs, in the past, so that it won’t hurt us.”
“I’m supposed to support you and be happy for you because you’re ready to take that step, but I’m scared. What if she hurts you?”
“Careful, or I might think you care about me,” I joke.
He releases me and cups my face with both hands. “I might even love you.” He winks at me.
His eyes hold mine. His gaze is filled with so much lust but also love. It knocks me off balance, and I can’t fucking help myself. I press my lips to his, my tongue sliding into his mouth.
We’ve kissed a lot over the years, but never like this. Like our flames are finally fusing, becoming one big wildfire. We feed off each other. I can’t stop groaning. I place my hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer. The kisses grow more frantic until he drags his mouth away from me.
My brain isn’t thinking. My heart and my soul taking over. “I need you,” I beg him.
“We need to go downstairs,” he says between shallow breaths.
With a foggy mind, we climb downstairs. He slides his hands under my shirt. I groan. His hands sear my skin as they glide up my chest, pushing up the cotton fabric, lifting the item over my head, and tossing it to the floor.
My fingers skate along his skin while I mirror his movements and take his clothes off. He unbuckles my belt, unzips my slacks, and pushes them down just as he goes down on his knees. Zeke runs his fingertip over my swollen crown before wrapping his tongue around my cockhead.
“Fuck,” I groan as he takes me in his mouth.
My legs shake when he squeezes my ass and swallows me deeper. He sucks me harder. I thrust my hips once before he releases me and runs his tongue along my length all the way to my sensitive hole, where he rims me a couple of times before pushing a finger inside.
It’s strange to feel him there. Not that we haven’t done it before, but it’s been so long since the last time. It’s been so long since I filled his mouth while he fucks me with his fingers, making my cock grow heavier. I’m moaning, I’m so close, but this isn’t how I want to come.
“I need you inside me.”
He moves his head back, sucking one last time before releasing me and licking the soft slit of my head.
“Get on your back,” he orders, tilting his head toward the bed.
He strolls toward the kitchen, coming back with coconut oil. He lubes his cock and my hole, pushing one, then two, and finally three fingers. I groan, pressing myself against his hand. My cock is heavy, desperate to shoot its load.
“This will have to do. I wasn’t ready for you.”
Zeke climbs on top of me, lowering his hard body until every muscle of his body aligns with mine. I missed this, feeling his weight on top of me, grounding me.
“I missed you,” he says, caressing my face. “So fucking much sometimes it hurt. This is it, isn’t it? Nothing will tear us apart.”
“Nothing. I promise.” Capturing his mouth, our bodies grind against each other. His hand reaches behind my globes. He presses his thumb into my hole, stretching it one more time before he shoves his thick head against it.
In one thrust, he is balls deep inside me. I cry in pain and pleasure, “Fuck!”