[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
mistakes with him.
"How's eight?" Diane chimes, slipping her arm around
Max's waist.
I glance at Max, and he gives a tentative nod, gratitude
flickering in his own eyes, maybe even despite himself.
"Good, we'll be there," I say.
Phillip extends his hand then, taking my own firmly. "Merry
Christmas, son," he says to me and for some really weird
reason, I fight the urge to cry right on the spot.
Max is a nervous wreck. He circles the bedroom, checking
things, zipping and unzipping the suitcase. I haven't seen him
so worked up since we came home to Winchester last time.
Hell, I'm getting nervous just being near him. "Will you stop
it, Maxwell?" I finally sigh in exasperation.
He turns to me, all innocent and unaware. "Stop what?"
"This. This nervous fidgeting shit. It's making me crazy."
He becomes still, right there in the center of the bedroom,
raking his hands over his dark hair. "Max," I say, soothing
him with my voice. "It's okay. Really."
"What if he's asked us there to gang up on us or
something? What if he's going to try and talk us out of the
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Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
wedding? What if it's all a set-up?" He's talking madness, so I
just draw him into my arms, holding him close.
"You know that's not what it's about, man."
"No, Hunter," he says, wrestling out of my grasp. "I don't
know that at all."
"Why'd you get so angry at him last night?"
"What?"
"He's making a peace overture, Maxwell. Don't you get
that? The bread machine, the invitation to the house."
"It's too late for opening his home to you." The steely
voice makes me glad he's on my side.
I get quiet as he moves back to the suitcase, heaving it
onto the floor. "No, it's not," I say. "Not at all too late."
"Oh, Hunter, I don't want you as my voice of reason on
this," he nearly thunders, throwing his hands into the air.
"Since when did you and my father get so cozy?"
I roll my eyes, starting to get a little pissed. "I'm on your
team, don't forget that."
"Huh, funny. I don't see it that way."
"He gave you a goddamned bread machine, for crying out
loud!" I shout, not caring what Leah or John think. "He's
trying to make things right, but you're as stubborn as he is."
All that observation earns me is stony silence and a
withering glare from the love of my life. Great. Fucking great.
"I'm gonna go pack the car," I say, huffing past him toward
the hallway.
"Hunter, wait."
202
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
I turn back and see that tears have filled his beautiful
eyes. "I'm scared," he admits, staring down at his loafers.
"Scared that I'm getting my hopes up again for nothing."
I drop the bag in the hallway, then step back into the
room, closing the door behind us. "You know, for somebody
who's got so damned much, how can you expect so little?"
"I don't get it."
"You're amazing, Maxwell. The best person I know, and
you deserve their love."
"I-I never thought I didn't." He shoves his hands into his
pockets with an offhand shrug.
"No?"
Our gazes lock for a moment and I know he's working at
something, an important thought when he says, "I'm not sure
my dad thinks I deserve his love." Okay, now we're getting
somewhere.
"Why not?" I ask, using the most derogatory word I can
think of to drive my point home, hard. "'Cause you're a
faggot?"
He nods, the tears obviously threatening again as he just
stares down at the floor. "Yeah, well you're definitely queer as
they come, sweetheart," I say, using that endearment on
purpose. "So fucking what? Your old man's gonna have to
deal if he wants you in his life, and he obviously does."
"How can you be so sure?" he asks, anguish in his quiet
voice.
I step close, stroking my fingertips over the short, bristling
hair that I love so much. "He ever give you a cooking utensil
for Christmas before?"
203
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
"No."
"Okay, well you think a homophobic dad typically does
that? Chooses something off his queer son's wedding registry,
for chrissakes?"
He blinks at me, processing what should be so easy for
him to see, then after a long moment, he begins to giggle.
Kind of girlish, definitely relieved. "God, I'm an idiot," he
says. "Aren't I?"
"He hurt you. Really damned bad, and that's tough to get
past."
"The thing is, I want them to love you like I do," he says,
stepping near and wrapping his muscled arms around my
neck.
"Baby, that's never gonna happen. I'm your lover, not
theirs."
"Well, I want them to get you. To understand why I love
you."
"Yeah, well that's fair enough, but it starts by opening up
to them, despite the bad history."
"I have a present for them, too," he admits, turning
toward the bed and I see a small gift tucked beside his
briefcase. "I lost my nerve in giving it last night. I was going
to leave it with Leah for them."
I'm burning to know what it is, but I don't ask. I give him
space to share in his own time. "You gonna bring it then?"
He picks it up, handing it to me. "You give it to them,
Hunter. I think that would be great. Perfect, as a matter of
fact."
204
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
Interesting that he doesn't tell me what it is, just sends
me off to the car, wondering what in the world we're giving
his folks.
"Come on in!" Diane says, giving me an affectionate hug.
"I'm so glad you came, Hunter." She pats me on the cheek
again, like last fall, and any barriers I had against this sweet
woman definitely crumble a little bit more. She's just way too
Aunt Edna for me to keep resenting her.
"Smells great," I say, sniffing the air. Eggs and bacon hold
a special place in this farm boy's memory bank and this
morning's no exception. Their siren call draws me right [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
mistakes with him.
"How's eight?" Diane chimes, slipping her arm around
Max's waist.
I glance at Max, and he gives a tentative nod, gratitude
flickering in his own eyes, maybe even despite himself.
"Good, we'll be there," I say.
Phillip extends his hand then, taking my own firmly. "Merry
Christmas, son," he says to me and for some really weird
reason, I fight the urge to cry right on the spot.
Max is a nervous wreck. He circles the bedroom, checking
things, zipping and unzipping the suitcase. I haven't seen him
so worked up since we came home to Winchester last time.
Hell, I'm getting nervous just being near him. "Will you stop
it, Maxwell?" I finally sigh in exasperation.
He turns to me, all innocent and unaware. "Stop what?"
"This. This nervous fidgeting shit. It's making me crazy."
He becomes still, right there in the center of the bedroom,
raking his hands over his dark hair. "Max," I say, soothing
him with my voice. "It's okay. Really."
"What if he's asked us there to gang up on us or
something? What if he's going to try and talk us out of the
201
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
wedding? What if it's all a set-up?" He's talking madness, so I
just draw him into my arms, holding him close.
"You know that's not what it's about, man."
"No, Hunter," he says, wrestling out of my grasp. "I don't
know that at all."
"Why'd you get so angry at him last night?"
"What?"
"He's making a peace overture, Maxwell. Don't you get
that? The bread machine, the invitation to the house."
"It's too late for opening his home to you." The steely
voice makes me glad he's on my side.
I get quiet as he moves back to the suitcase, heaving it
onto the floor. "No, it's not," I say. "Not at all too late."
"Oh, Hunter, I don't want you as my voice of reason on
this," he nearly thunders, throwing his hands into the air.
"Since when did you and my father get so cozy?"
I roll my eyes, starting to get a little pissed. "I'm on your
team, don't forget that."
"Huh, funny. I don't see it that way."
"He gave you a goddamned bread machine, for crying out
loud!" I shout, not caring what Leah or John think. "He's
trying to make things right, but you're as stubborn as he is."
All that observation earns me is stony silence and a
withering glare from the love of my life. Great. Fucking great.
"I'm gonna go pack the car," I say, huffing past him toward
the hallway.
"Hunter, wait."
202
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
I turn back and see that tears have filled his beautiful
eyes. "I'm scared," he admits, staring down at his loafers.
"Scared that I'm getting my hopes up again for nothing."
I drop the bag in the hallway, then step back into the
room, closing the door behind us. "You know, for somebody
who's got so damned much, how can you expect so little?"
"I don't get it."
"You're amazing, Maxwell. The best person I know, and
you deserve their love."
"I-I never thought I didn't." He shoves his hands into his
pockets with an offhand shrug.
"No?"
Our gazes lock for a moment and I know he's working at
something, an important thought when he says, "I'm not sure
my dad thinks I deserve his love." Okay, now we're getting
somewhere.
"Why not?" I ask, using the most derogatory word I can
think of to drive my point home, hard. "'Cause you're a
faggot?"
He nods, the tears obviously threatening again as he just
stares down at the floor. "Yeah, well you're definitely queer as
they come, sweetheart," I say, using that endearment on
purpose. "So fucking what? Your old man's gonna have to
deal if he wants you in his life, and he obviously does."
"How can you be so sure?" he asks, anguish in his quiet
voice.
I step close, stroking my fingertips over the short, bristling
hair that I love so much. "He ever give you a cooking utensil
for Christmas before?"
203
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
"No."
"Okay, well you think a homophobic dad typically does
that? Chooses something off his queer son's wedding registry,
for chrissakes?"
He blinks at me, processing what should be so easy for
him to see, then after a long moment, he begins to giggle.
Kind of girlish, definitely relieved. "God, I'm an idiot," he
says. "Aren't I?"
"He hurt you. Really damned bad, and that's tough to get
past."
"The thing is, I want them to love you like I do," he says,
stepping near and wrapping his muscled arms around my
neck.
"Baby, that's never gonna happen. I'm your lover, not
theirs."
"Well, I want them to get you. To understand why I love
you."
"Yeah, well that's fair enough, but it starts by opening up
to them, despite the bad history."
"I have a present for them, too," he admits, turning
toward the bed and I see a small gift tucked beside his
briefcase. "I lost my nerve in giving it last night. I was going
to leave it with Leah for them."
I'm burning to know what it is, but I don't ask. I give him
space to share in his own time. "You gonna bring it then?"
He picks it up, handing it to me. "You give it to them,
Hunter. I think that would be great. Perfect, as a matter of
fact."
204
Taking You Home
by Cooper Davis
Interesting that he doesn't tell me what it is, just sends
me off to the car, wondering what in the world we're giving
his folks.
"Come on in!" Diane says, giving me an affectionate hug.
"I'm so glad you came, Hunter." She pats me on the cheek
again, like last fall, and any barriers I had against this sweet
woman definitely crumble a little bit more. She's just way too
Aunt Edna for me to keep resenting her.
"Smells great," I say, sniffing the air. Eggs and bacon hold
a special place in this farm boy's memory bank and this
morning's no exception. Their siren call draws me right [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]