Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
It was like he’d put on a suit that was too small—awkward and ill-fitting. A man so magnificent shouldn’t bow to such mortal self-doubt when he was meant to be a rock star whose confidence radiated like the sun.
Connelly pushed his own fears down deep and pulled the offending hand away. “Your hair didn’t make you amazing, you did that all on your own.”
A flush spread over his face. “Am I that transparent?”
“Right now, yes.” He tugged Azariah into a gentle hug.
“I hate it,” Azariah said, his voice quiet.
“It will grow back.”
“No, not my hair. It’s new, but not bad. Just different. I meant that I feel like my balls have been cut off. I want so badly to don my favorite pair of heels, do my makeup up fierce, and feel that confidence I seem to have lost.”
“First, those things didn’t give you confidence, they were just symptoms of the bravery you already possessed. Second, there’s nothing stopping you from doing your makeup if it will make you feel better.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“So why don’t you go get ready? Then we can go out to breakfast. You’ll feel more yourself after that, I promise.”
“Connelly?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to fall for you.”
Even though his hands shook, he reached out and tucked a stray hair behind Azariah’s ear. “I know.”
“The only thing I know about relationships is that they don’t last forever, and yet, I can’t stop myself from being near you.” Impossibly, this statement was even softer than the last, but it rang inside Connelly like a thousand church bells. He closed his eyes and kissed Azariah’s head as his heart swelled with the heavenly ringing.
“The feeling is mutual, believe me.”
“I’m not sure I can do it. You deserve someone who won’t screw it up.”
“I’m scared too. Terrified, actually, but it’s worth trying. They don’t all fail.”
Azariah curled into him then. Connelly’s arms automatically wrapped around his shoulders. They stayed like that for long minutes, holding each other in the middle of Azariah’s empty kitchen with the morning sun filtering through the sooty windows. It wasn’t a romantic setting by any stretch of the imagination, but it was perfect.
Connelly’s mind began creating scenarios where they could have mornings like this for the rest of their lives, sharing a space, touching whenever they felt the need.
A partnership like his parents had created, enduring and steady. A relationship to count on when everything else in your life was a mess.
* * *
As expected, the restaurant was full by the time they arrived. Z had spent half an hour getting ready because he’d wanted to look perfect. When he’d finally stepped out of his bedroom decked out in black velvet brocade jeans, a plain black T-shirt, soft pink lipstick and his eyes painted a striking blue with silver sparkles, he felt like the real Azariah Hayes again. Or at least more so than he had in days.
He still missed wearing his heels. They would have added so much attitude to the outfit and made him feel like he could take on the world. Unfortunately, though his ankle had reduced to normal size, it still felt weak so he tugged on an ancient pair of biker boots he’d found in the back of his closet. They weren’t gorgeous red-bottoms, but they were certainly kick-ass.
Connelly had insisted on a real sit-down breakfast. They chose a popular franchise near Central Park that had big glass windows and a beautiful white interior. The classic menu and setting made Z feel like a certain hooker in a red gown.
“You can have French toast or waffles, both are basically cake,” Connelly said. “Have you ever been here?”
“My mom took me to the one on the Upper East Side when I was little.” It had been a perfect day, until she’d told him she was sick and that he’d be staying with his aunt and uncle for a while. He didn’t really want to fight the memories that would no doubt plague the meal.
But Connelly said, “I really want to have one of their omelets. It’s been a long time.”
So here they were at a table near the windows surrounded by the brunch crowd and Z was doing his best to ignore the looks from the other patrons. He’d made a decision to move forward. The past was the past. He was ready to reach for something new even if it meant relinquishing his precious independence. One thing about going through chaos, it certainly brought life into perspective.
He’d been put through hell, but that didn’t mean he belonged there. He didn’t know where he belonged yet. Though he was starting to hope it was with the man across the table. As long as Connelly was near, Z would be at home.
Connelly had said it was worth trying and Z was willing to.