02-Let It Ride (15 page)

So he kept his mouth shut and mentally prepared himself for what he knew would be coming. For Bridge to say he couldn’t do this after all. He would be sorry and look heart stricken, and Eric would assure him it was okay and for the best. Bridge would thank him for understanding, and Eric would maintain a stoic expression. Then he would leave, drive down the road a few miles, and pull over to purge himself of the pain from once again hoping, attempting to believe, that he could have the one thing he was afraid to want most. Because as much as he’d tried to keep this thing with Bridge strings-free, he realized now that they’d already been too tangled up from day one. He’d never had a chance.

Kent was home when they arrived, sitting in the living room and talking on the phone. He wore a wide smile on his face, which meant it was probably Lily on the other end. For a brief second, Eric gave freedom to a rare flare of envy. No one would ever give a second glance at Kent and Lily walking hand in hand down the street. No one would ever spit at their feet. He quickly corralled that emotion, swallowing back that bitter pill. It would do him no good, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—begrudge Kent any happiness. He was a good friend. At least he would be until Bridge kicked Eric to the curb and out of their tight circle. No matter what, if it came down to Bridge or Eric, Kent would chose Bridge. So would Marty and Tripp.

“Hey,” Kent said, then did a double take when Bridge walked past without a word and went straight up the stairs to his room. The door closed with a quiet
snick
rather than the slam Eric had expected.

For a minute, Eric didn’t know what to do. Grab his stuff and go home? Stay downstairs for a while to let Bridge work the incident out on his own? Or just head right on up there and get it over with so he didn’t have to prolong the inevitable?

Kent looked at him then, his smile gone and an eyebrow lifted in question. No, he didn’t want to stay down here and talk to Kent; he wanted to talk to Bridge. Now. He shook his head at Kent and followed his cowboy upstairs.

Two steps up he froze.
His
cowboy? Fuck.

What did he do now? Fight for it? Run from it? He’d fought for it before, but it had only hurt more when he’d lost.

Bridge was standing in front of the window when Eric entered the bedroom, staring out at what, he had no idea. The moonless night was pitch-black. Not even shadows played in the darkness. But he figured Bridge wasn’t really seeing anything out there anyway.

Eric sighed and closed the door quietly behind him. Always the same. Why did he imagine things could be any different this time? All he could think to say was, “I’m sorry.”

Bridge looked over his shoulder, brows furrowed, mouth tipped down in a frown. “Sorry for what? The only ones needing to say sorry are those assholes in town tonight.”

“World’s full of people like that,” Eric said, looking around the room, his gaze falling on the messy bedsheets, bringing to mind the mess he and Bridge had made on the bed in the guest room the day before. But that was then, a brief interlude in a fantasy that had been shattered by another cold hammer of reality.

“I don’t understand how anyone can be like that. What the fuck does it matter to them? They know nothing about us. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever met, and I like to think I’m a pretty decent guy too. I try to be there for my friends and family. I work hard. I treat everyone with respect, whether I like them or not. That’s the decent thing to do. What the fuck is it to them whose hand I hold or who I share my bed with? None of anyone’s goddamn business.”

“I’m sorry, Bridge.” Eric sighed. “I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.” He bent down to pick up his discarded work clothes from earlier, the ones he’d left on the floor when Bridge had hauled him into his en suite bathroom for an extra long shower before dinner. Hard to believe only a few short hours ago things had felt so right, but that was the way of it. Everything went to shit the moment he started letting his guard down, and he’d done a crap job of keeping it up around Bridge in the first place. That was clear as crystal now.

“What are you doing?”

Eric kept his head down, didn’t want to meet Bridge’s soulful eyes because he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry on if he did. If Bridge said to stay, he would, because even now, he knew he couldn’t say no to Bridge. “I should probably head on out.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bridge stepped forward and stopped his movements with one hand on his wrist and the other under his chin, forcing him to look up.

Eric stepped back, out of Bridge’s reach, and ignored the flash of hurt that streaked through his eyes. “What happened tonight? That was nothing. But it could have been so much worse and maybe next time it will be, because believe me, there will be a next time.”

“You think I don’t know that? My best friend is gay. People have tried to harass and bully him his whole life. Granted he didn’t have it as bad as some, but it hasn’t always been rainbows and puppies for him either. And don’t think I’ve forgotten what Scott Gillard and his band of buzzards did to Tripp when he came out.” Bridge stepped forward again, putting himself between Eric and the door so he would have to go around Bridge to get out. “And none of that should be any reason for you going home now.”

“It has everything to do with it.”

“I don’t see how.”

“No? Let me spell it out for you. I’m gay. You are not.” Eric held up his hand when Bridge opened his mouth to argue. “You’re bi . . . or bi-curious . . . Yeah, you fooled around once before, but you’ve never
really
been with a man before now. Since you dated women because you wanted to and not out of necessity, why subject yourself to this kind of grief by dating a man when you don’t have to?”

“
Don’t have to
?” The pitch in Bridge’s voice raised a notch, as did the color in his face. “The hell kind of bullshit is that? I
have
to go with my heart, and my heart is going with
you
. That’s where there’s no choice. You could have three eyes and green skin for all I care. Issues with same-sex relationships are society’s hang-up, not mine.”

“It affects us too.”

“Only if we let it.” Bridge took a step forward. “I’m not going anywhere, Eric. I told you from the very beginning I wanted you more than as just a friend with benefits, and I don’t give a shit what other people think or say or do, unless they hurt those I care about. That I won’t stand for. But there is no way I’m not going to be with you because of other people’s groundless issues. So you can get that shit out of your head right now, strip your damn clothes off, and get in my damn bed.”

And then Bridge nodded, as if that put an immutable point on his tirade. The move was so . . . “so there,” like a kid thinking that final nod held some sort of magic I-have-spoken-and-so-it-shall-be spell. And so very Bridge. Eric couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up out of nowhere and burst out into the silence cast over them by Bridge’s enchantment, surprising them both.

“Not seeing the funny here.” Bridge glared at him, and then his stare softened and he took a step forward. “You said dating.”

“What?” Eric gripped the clothes in his hand tighter, like some sort of talisman. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes. You said I didn’t have to date a man if I didn’t want to. But I do want to. I want to date you, Eric. I want us to have a real relationship. Please trust me when I say I’m not taking the old horse out for one last ride before sending him to pasture. The only thing I’m curious about is when you’re going to believe that and let me in.”

“It’s not that, it’s . . .” Eric dropped his gaze to the shirt he was strangling in his fists, and then Bridge’s hand was on his cheek. Gentle, comforting, welcome. He hadn’t even realized the man had moved, but there he was, guiding Eric up to meet those eyes that were starting to make him think just maybe . . . like that moment in the restaurant when he thought maybe dating would be okay.

“What is it?”

Eric sighed, closed his eyes for a second. “Relationships don’t end well for me. Ever. You and the guys are the best thing I’ve had in my life in a long time, and I don’t want to lose that.”

Bridge closed the last bit of space between them, wrapping his arms around Eric, and Eric sank into him. There in that strong embrace was where he wanted to be. If they could stay like that, if time would stop right now, then the end would never come.

“Whatever happened in the past is the past. You can’t let it dictate your future,” Bridge said, one hand moving in soothing circles on Eric’s back, the other cradling his head into the crook of Bridge’s shoulder. “Will you think about it? Please?”

“Okay,” he said, his voice a muffled whisper against Bridge’s skin. Then he lifted his eyes up to meet Bridge’s gaze. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Bridge leaned down and kissed him, slow and gentle, and it felt like a promise Eric wanted to believe.

Bridge meant for the kiss to be light, assuring, to let Eric know he was sincere but not pushing for more. He knew whatever was holding Eric back would eventually let go, but it would have to be at Eric’s pace, not his. He eased off with a couple of soft nips at Eric’s lips, and just as he was about to give Eric more room to decide what happened next, if anything, Eric dropped the clothes he’d been clutching between them and fisted a handful of Bridge’s shirt.

He yanked Bridge to him so hard their chests crashed together, forcing a grunt from both of them. He pressed his open mouth to Bridge’s, demanding entrance, which Bridge wasn’t about to deny. Ever. He opened, and Eric dived in. Fuck, he loved the way the man kissed him. Passionate, desperate. Like it was their last day on earth, the last minute before the end of the world, and this final crushing kiss would be their final blaze of glory.

And it was sheer perfection.

“Fuck, you’re hot all wound up like that,” Eric said, and began to unbutton Bridge’s shirt.

“Yeah?” A smile formed on Bridge’s lips, and he playfully smacked Eric’s hands away. He loved the aggressive side of Eric. “Get your ass in bed, and I’ll show you how wound up I can get.”

But instead of getting on the bed like he’d been told, Eric kissed him, hard, while he resumed divesting Bridge of his shirt. Bridge joined in, pushing the jacket off Eric’s shoulders and then unbuttoning his shirt while their tongues danced and dueled for dominance. Buttons snapped, zippers screeched, clothes fell into hushed heaps without regard, and then all Bridge could feel was skin. Hot and smooth and sliding over flexing muscle that made his entire body sing halle-freakin’-lujah.

Eric broke the kiss and nipped at Bridge’s neck. “Get on the bed.” His voice was ragged and harsh, made more commanding by the thickened accent.

Bridge laughed at the switch, Eric now the one taking charge, but that simple display of power did things to him he couldn’t really explain. He pulled the sheets back and crawled in, stretching out in the middle of the king-sized mattress, spreading his legs wantonly, and lacing his hands behind his head. His eyes never left the lithe, toned body before him as Eric dug in the drawer of the nightstand. For what, he had no idea.

“What am I supposed to have in there?”

Eric lifted an eyebrow, his expression dubious, like he wasn’t sure if Bridge was teasing or not. “Condoms? Lube?”

“Oh. Well . . .” Bridge reached a hand out and ran it up Eric’s firm, furred thigh. “I’ve never had a need for lube before, and I’ve never brought a woman home, so why have a stash here?”

“Never?”

Bridge ran through his memory quickly.
Huh.
“Nope. Anyone I dated never seemed to last beyond rodeo season. Oh! There’s probably condoms in the RV still.”

“Wow.” Eric grabbed his pants off the floor and shook them out before stepping into them. “I think that’s a bit sad, but it also turns me on that I’m the first lover you’ve brought home.”

Unexpected warmth rushed through Bridge’s body as the deeper meaning of that comment struck him. Eric was the first lover he’d ever brought home.
Lover?
The word popped in out of nowhere, but now that it was there, he liked it. Eric was his lover. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So why are you putting clothes on?”

“To fetch supplies.”

The guest room Eric had claimed was only two doors down, and he was back before Bridge even blinked, the hallowed supplies in his hands: a rather large bottle of lube and two boxes of condoms. Bridge raised his eyebrows when Eric rounded the side of the bed and placed them on the nightstand.

“Definitely not all for tonight,” Eric said, grinning while slipping off his watch, negligently dropping it on the table beside the other items. He kicked out of his pants and crawled into bed, and Bridge wrapped his arm around Eric’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“What are we doing with all of that?” Bridge had an idea, and that idea had his whole body vibrating, but he really didn’t know what he was doing.

“You’re going to fuck me.”

“Jesus,” Bridge croaked. Just like that, he was hard as a rock. “But I usually only fuck people I’m dating.”

Eric held his gaze for a long moment, but Bridge couldn’t get a read on what was happening behind those dark-blue orbs. They looked stormy, conflicted, but there was also something hopeful lurking there deep in the background. Finally Eric said, “Casual dating.”