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“Well, I will too, but I can’t be there all the time. That’s just reality.”
As they lay in each other’s arms, Josh couldn’t help wondering if their feelings could withstand the distance and scrutiny they’d be forced to face. Tyler didn’t seem to grasp the risks he was asking Josh to take.
“Joshua.” Tyler looked up at him and beamed, seemingly appeased, and nestled into Josh’s chest. “How am I ever going to sleep again without holding you like this?” He buried his face in Josh’s nape and inhaled deeply. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you. Thank you.”
Within moments, Tyler’s breathing slowed and deepened, as if all his burdens had dropped away. Eventually he slept, his burly frame relaxing into sleep on the big couch with the ease of long practice, the even rise and fall of his ribs under Josh’s cheek as steady as a vow.
But Josh lay rigid and awake, his mind racing. Could a long-distance relationship survive? How could he leave Cinnamar? His job, his friends, his family—all here. And what of the media circus that would surely rummage through their private lives?
Josh wrestled with doubt. He envisioned the ambushes, the vile gossip, the savvy bigots who’d take aim at a “proud” couple. Josh might even lose his job, with enough malicious small-town chatter. Tyler insisted he was ready, but Josh worried for them both.
And yet the prospect of being with Tyler, of building something real together…. He wanted those wicked hazel eyes every morning, that dazzling smile every night. A life with Tyler would be as frightening as it was intoxicating.
He craned up to kiss the line of Tyler’s jaw.
Josh glanced at the clock. Time was their real enemy. He had always played it safe, avoiding heartbreak through caution and restraint. But Tyler had smashed through those defenses with his megawatt charisma and surprisingly tender heart.
He sighed. Even now, cradled in Tyler’s arms, the future was unclear.
Josh closed his eyes and willed his restless mind to stillness as if to slow time itself. They had now, and that would have to be enough. As exhaustion claimed him, Josh surrendered to fitful dreams.
Chapter Eleven
TYLER AWOKE to Josh’s arm draped over his chest, their legs tangled beneath the sheets. He cherished these quiet moments together as before the clock forced them out of bed. A week had passed since their first passionate night, yet it felt like a year cocooned in their hometown bubble.
Tyler nuzzled into the curve of Josh’s neck, dreading his imminent return to San Diego. The season was already half over, and the owners wanted him to make a show of strength before the Super Bowl stole everyone’s thunder. How could he bear leaving this, leaving Josh behind?
His career itself felt precarious. Thirty-three years old on the gridiron felt different than twenty or twenty-five. The injuries hit him worse. He healed slower; he made mistakes. Anyone in the league could tell you why guys got out so young. Head injuries and joint problems did a number on your long-term viability. At its core, the NFL was a business. Cogs in the machine got replaced once they wore out.
Though his cardiologist had cleared Tyler, doubts plagued him. Could his heart handle the rest of the season? Was he making things worse?
Even watching football games now, the violence of the plays bugged him in a way it never had before. Each bone-jarring hit, every player carried off the field left Tyler more conflicted, more unsure.
Yet the outside world would not wait.
Meanwhile, he’d watched Josh wage his own quiet battle to protect the library’s “dangerous” books, pushing back against the pressure campaign from parents and even a few uptight faculty members. Tyler didn’t want to abandon Josh to these fights alone. Just to buy time, he’d requested another couple weeks, another checkup with Reynolds before doing anything rash. He glanced at the clock.
They had to get up in a few hours so they could get Josh to school in time.
When Tyler held Josh close like this, their bodies snug as two puzzle pieces, everything else faded. The past and future disappeared; only this moment existed. And Tyler knew with sudden clarity he would cling to it, to Joshua, for as long as fate allowed.
Beside him, Josh stirred. “Hi.”
“Hey, handsome. Mmmh.” Tyler squeezed him and kissed the top of his mussed head. “Five more minutes.”
For the past week, they’d fallen into an easy rhythm.
Each morning after a quick breakfast, Tyler drove Josh to work in Josh’s truck. They’d run side by side at the track as the mist burned off and then part at the truck before the first bell. Then Josh spent the day at Hamilton coaching and teaching while Tyler went back to Nadia’s to work the phones and charmed volunteers for the book-ban battle. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he saw his therapist, which he didn’t dread anymore. Then at day’s end, Tyler would pick Josh up and squire him home.
Principal Carver had really stepped up with their library campaign. As soon as Tyler had offered himself as a public face for the literacy drive, Carver had given him permission to organize media coverage, a book-club crawl, the story adoption drive, and the library lock-in for next month.
The past couple of days, Tyler had called in favors wrangling signed swag for auctions and videos from friends in the NFL. He’d visited other school libraries in the area to shake hands and meet students. Nadia had built them a snazzy web page. He’d even gotten the Swells to donate thirty grand to improve internet access and fund five years of Overdrive e-book service for the whole valley’s school district. Out in the boonies, the web was critical.
For any pro teams, literacy was a perfect cause. For the players, it took an hour tops. For the locals, the lure of big names had made the book bans look twisted and pathetic. The celebs looked civilized and sensitive. And books, above all else, were far more inexpensive than things like surgery or vehicles. Tyler pressed as many NFL players into service as he could. He kept supplying the local media photos of hunky jocks recommending their favorite thrillers, romances, and fantasy series. The press ate it up.
As a result, Tyler hadn’t slept in his own bed once this week, which Nadia encouraged shamelessly. She knew Tyler’s time in Cinnamar was limited, so he and Josh needed to maximize their remaining days and nights together before reality intervened. The ticking clock made him feel possessive and short-tempered with everyone else.
Today he’d seen his therapist and talked with Dr. Bailey about the future with Josh—which felt great—in between other stuff that wasn’t so great. Therapy hadn’t turned out anything like he’d imagined. It helped, but it rattled him too, stirring the foul goop at the bottom of his pond.
