Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“They belonged to the man who saved my life.”
Fitch didn’t reply, but he did reach out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Ansel’s ear. The move was so soft and gentle, Ansel took a deep breath and continued.
“I was almost eighteen and had been living on the streets for about a year when we first met. Well, met isn’t really the right word.” He took a moment as the memory burst to life. The fear of being chased by six men down an alley, the smell of their hatred, the pain of their words. “A bunch of guys followed me from the shelter and taunted me for three blocks, calling me all kinds of names. I’m sure you can imagine. I was younger and not quite as glittery as I am now, but I’ve always looked like this.”
Though he didn’t say anything, Ansel could hear Fitch grinding his teeth. Still, his touch remained tender as he smoothed a palm down Ansel’s side. It made remembering easier, the way the men had cornered him, the dread as he’d fought back even knowing he didn’t have a chance. He’d been lying in a ball on the dirt-covered pavement when Ray had crawled out of his box.
“They attacked—and Ray came to my rescue. He saved me.”
That was putting it mildly, but no one would understand how amazing it had been to watch Ray take down six guys all on his own, no weapon in sight. He hadn’t even worked up a sweat, but he’d scared them. Enough that they’d taken off and never bothered Ansel again. To this day he knew if it hadn’t been for Ray, he would have died that day. He clutched the dog tags in his fist.
“After that I kind of followed him around like a puppy. He was a veteran, hence the dog tags. He taught me how to defend myself, and looked after me until he found Prism Center for me, an LGBTQ shelter for homeless youth where he knew I’d be safe.” He didn’t tell Fitch about how Ray died, how he’d met Ange, or how he had come to be in possession of Ray’s tags. Those were secrets for another day, or maybe never. Never would be good. The pain of reliving the way they’d met was enough. He didn’t want to think about how he’d lost his hero.
“Jesus.” Fitch’s curse was as soft as his touch and just as comforting. Even though he probably still had a whole slew of questions, he didn’t ask them. He didn’t push, for which Ansel was grateful.
“I would have stayed with Ray, but he’d made me promise. And I’m glad he did, otherwise I would never have met the guys, never would have started Sassy Boyz,” Ansel added.
He shoved the memories and the sadness away and turned his head to study Fitch’s face. He was scowling at the wall like it had deeply offended him. In that moment, Ansel knew Fitch would have protected him too. In fact, if the look on his face was any indication, he wanted to kill the assholes who’d attacked him, right now.
And there went his stupid fucking heart doing that leaping thing again.
Ansel cleared his throat. “Okay, that’s enough soppy chitchat. Time for you to leave, Grumpy Bear.” He shoved at Fitch’s shoulder and rolled off the bed.
He needed Fitch gone. Now. This was becoming way too intense, way too fucking real. He picked up Fitch’s jeans and briefs and tossed them on the bed, followed by the shirt.
“Get dressed,” he ordered before hightailing it out of the room to gather everything they’d left in the kitchenette. He found Fitch’s shoes near the counter and brought them back to his room, along with his jewelry, heels and T-shirt.
Fitch stood in the middle of the room with his jeans hanging open and his shirt in his hands.
“Calm down, I’m leaving,” he said as he slid into the green button-down.
Ansel leaned against his door. “Sorry, I’m being an ass.”
Humor lit up Fitch’s eyes. “Good thing for you, I’ve discovered asses are a whole lot of fun.”
A chuckle released some of the tension that had tightened Ansel’s shoulders. When Fitch had his socks and shoes on and his jeans zipped up, he came forward. He stood before Ansel, who was still, ridiculously, naked.
“I’m going to call you tomorrow,” Fitch said.
Instead of pulling him into another mind-melting kiss, Fitch simply pecked him on the cheek and reached behind to grab the door handle. Ansel didn’t follow him down the hall, but he did watch him go. Before he left, Fitch looked over his shoulder.
“Sweet dreams, Angel,” he said with a warm smile. Then the door closed again and Ansel was left standing in the doorway of his room completely naked.
Chapter Sixteen
Ansel didn’t get any sleep that night. After Fitch left, he watched the rising sun cast shadows on his ceiling. He heard Ange come home around four o’clock. If he’d been asleep, she wouldn’t have woken him. She was always quiet, or maybe he was usually a sound sleeper. Either way, he didn’t go out to say hi. He was still too raw to face anyone. Rather, he tossed and turned, finally giving up the pretense with a sigh.