Forever Yours Page 4

  Voices at the door drew their attention. A split-second later April came racing in, a teddy bear in one hand and a balloon in the other. She squealed with delight, though whether it was the sight of her mother that pleased her so much or Samson it was hard to say. Samson, who had gotten to his feet, accepted a hug to his leg. April talked a mile a minute, words spilling out so fast they meshed together into gibberish. Before Samson had a chance to give the cutie pie a hug she was at the side of the bed presenting her mommy with the gifts.

  “Hey Samson,” Lawrence greeted, wheeling into the room. A stuffed dinosaur lay across his lap.

  “You’re looking well.”

  “Thanks,” he smiled. “I’ll be back on my feet in no time. Probably not in time to build any snowmen with April. Maybe you can help out?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  Samson massaged the back of his neck, the moment quickly veering in the direction of awkward. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said. Playing with April had always brought him a sense of great joy, listening to her giggles, seeing the happiness on her face. An ending with Linus meant losing a family he’d grown to love and had been blessed to watch grow. “There’s a storm coming, so maybe this weekend.”

  “I’ll make the cocoa,” Lawrence said as though it set their plans in stone.

  “Well, I’m going to let you guys visit. I’ll be on my way. Work to do, you know.” He turned to leave and literally bumped into Linus, getting a breath full of intoxicating floral perfume. His heart skipped a beat, a rush of warmth spreading through him. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Was Linus actually blushing?

  Samson glanced over his shoulder. April continued to talk about everything she’d done the last few days, completely oblivious to what was taking place around her, but Marnie winked when she caught him looking. Perhaps it was time to bite the bullet. He gathered up all his courage, completely unsure of what he wanted to say, only knowing he needed to get the ball rolling if he wanted to have Linus back at home with him.

  “Can we talk?” He kept his voice low, hushed, so the others wouldn’t hear.

  Linus blinked. He held the vase of flowers close to his chest, averting his gaze as he thought over the request. Why, why did he have to think about it? Had they become that estranged, drifted that far apart in a mere handful of days? What about all the years they spent building their love?

  Finally, Linus gave a slow nod. “Okay. I’ll call you tonight.”

  Chapter 8

  The call never came.

  Chapter 9

  When the alarm went off Samson grabbed a pillow from the other side of the bed and jammed it down over his head, muffling the annoying beeping. Somewhere in his skull a marching band composed entirely of drummers played a deep thunderous crescendo without end. Samson groaned. How could it already possibly be morning, hadn’t he just gone to bed?

  The alarm persisted, needling its way through the barrier of cotton until Samson couldn’t take it any longer.

  Head still buried, he reached out to the nightstand, fumbling for his phone. He knocked something, possibly the book he’d picked up to read the other night as a distraction, onto the floor. Whatever it was hit the carpet with a soft plop. He nearly sent a glass of water toppling after it in his blind search. Finally, his fingers brushed the smooth screen of his cell phone and quick as a wink he snatched it up. Rolling onto his back, dislodging his fluffy shield, the pillow falling to the floor, Samson glared at the phone, his vision a touch blurry.

  He grumbled a curse as he shut off the offensive ruckus. But it was too late, the throbbing pain of what promised to be a doozy of a headache had already settled behind his eyes. He discarded the phone amongst the blankets and closed his eyes, desperate to wish the day away. For a brief moment he’d caught a glimpse of the date on his phone.

  Not that he required an electronic device or even a calendar to remind him of the suddenly unwelcome day.

  Valentine’s Day. The day for lovers.

  Had it been up to him he would have stayed in bed all day, lost in the blissful release of slumber, but as reality crept in Samson became aware of the insistent urging from his bladder to be relieved. He groaned again, throwing back the blanket and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The rush of movement proved to be a bad idea, the room doing a nauseating dip and spin, the faintest hint of bile teasing his tongue. Samson held his head in hands until it stopped and he no longer felt as if his legs might give out on him.

  He shuffled in the direction of the bathroom, pausing momentarily to glance out the window. Thankfully, thick clouds blanketed the sky and kept the harsh brilliance of the sun at bay. Of course, they also gave a gloomy cast to the day.

  Overnight a fresh powder, reminiscent of the packaged stuff in craft stores, had fallen and concealed the crusty dirty snow from weeks ago. Everything looked pretty, and downright cold.

  Samson let the curtain fall back into place, resuming his mission. He didn’t even bother with the bathroom light, opting to handle his business in the dark. When he finished he turned to the sink, finally flipping on the light as he got the water running. He tugged open the medicine cabinet to retrieve the bottle of aspirin he kept there, planning to pop a few in hopes it would help loosen the hold of the vice currently squeezing his skull. Perhaps he’d indulged a bit too much the night before, though the thought had crossed his mind when he polished off the bottle of the wine. By then he’d already treated himself to the last two beers in the fridge.

  He closed the cabinet, placing the bottle on the countertop.

  “Good morning sunshine,” he grumbled to his reflection, bloodshot eyes looking back at him. His hair stuck up in crazy ways, and he was well beyond the point of a five-o-clock shadow. Did he feel like shaving, he questioned, running a hand over the stubble. As he did, his gaze strayed to the photo tucked in the bottom right corner of the mirror.

  Time seemed to slow.

  The world around him faded until all he saw was the image of the man smiling back at him. Those dazzling eyes, the way they sparkled, and that smile, it could light up the darkest of days. Samson sucked in his bottom lip, his hand straying toward the photo, but he stopped just short of touching it. Tears burned the backs of his eyes.

  “I…”

  Samson leaned on the counter, head hanging down. Hadn’t he told himself last night that he wouldn’t do this, that he wouldn’t stand in this place and find himself talking to memories? Letting out a frustrated growl he shut off the tap, twisting the knob a touch too hard and turned his focus to the shower. In a flash the bathroom once again filled with the sound of rushing water. Samson slipped out of his boxers, tossing them in the hamper.

  Like an expectant father he paced across the tile floor, running his left hand up and down his right arm, trying to think of anything and everything benign. All the while certain memories tried to break free of the boxes in which he stuffed them, wanting desperately to bombard him with highs and lows, to drag him back to familiar lanes and avenues, back to a time when…He swatted them away. When steam began to pour out around the shower curtain, he peeled it back and stepped under the stream.

  It singed his skin, causing him to hiss, but Samson stayed in place. Instead of reaching for the shampoo bottle or the soap, he stood there, water cascading over him, following the contours of his body. He tried to focus on the way his skin began to redden, the way the water swirled as it circled the drain. It was hard to tell at what point he began to cry, his tears lost, washed away.

  He stayed in until the water ran cold before reluctantly shutting off the tap. The day had finally arrived, the big day marked on the calendar with a heart drawn in red Sharpie courtesy of Linus. Whatever his beloved originally planned for the day, he suspected he would never know now. He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel, and wrapping it around his waist. His own plans for the day were simple in that he wanted to spend every precious moment with Linus. He didn’t even care what they did as long as they did it together.
>
  He still felt that way.

  Samson headed for the bedroom, thinking it might be worthwhile to fall right back into bed and sleep the day away. It sounded blissful. Wonderful.

  However, he froze in the bathroom doorway, brought up short by the sight before him. “Linus.”

  * * * *

  He sat on the bed, a red gift bag at his side. He smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend, the man who stole his heart all those years ago. The one who even after disagreements and slight disappointments made him feel like the most important person in the world. It was all in the way Samson looked at him. The way he was now, the way he did yesterday in the hospital. It was like nothing else in the world mattered or even existed. Samson had eyes for him and him alone, that gaze stirring butterflies in his stomach, making his heart go all pitter-patter. He wanted very much to cross the distance between them and plant a kiss on those lush lips.

  Linus restrained himself. There were things to discuss first.

  “I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth. “I meant to call you last night, really, I did, but after visiting with Marnie and getting Lawrence home and settled, I was exhausted and passed out on the couch.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Linus shook his head, momentarily closing his eyes. “None of this has been okay.” He beat a fist against his chest. “I haven’t been okay. I kept thinking that if I stayed busy and focused on April and Marnie and Lawrence that I would somehow make it through this, that I would find I missed you less and less with each passing day.” His words caused Samson to wince, bringing forth fresh pain for Linus. They’d hurt each other plenty. “And yet, it was quite the opposite. I missed you more with every breath I took. All the moments I’ve spent with April, I wanted you right there with me. And after putting her to bed, I longed to snuggle up to your side and fall asleep to the rhythmic beating of your heart.” By now tears wet his eyes, blurring his vision slightly. “I missed you, Samson. I’ve missed you like crazy and I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? I think I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

  “But I said so many hurtful things!”

  Samson shrugged. “Lovers fight, disagreements happen. What really matters is what we do about it right here, right now. This is the defining moment, the one that will make or break this, and you know what I want?”

  Linus, almost too afraid to ask, whispered, “What?”

  In a wink Samson crossed the room, falling to one knee before him, the towel he wore loosening. He was a vision of beauty to Linus, his skin glistening with droplets from the shower, his hair damp. Samson took hold of his hand, their eyes meeting. “I don’t have a ring, Linus,” he started.

  Linus was quick to interrupt. “I don’t need a ring.” The words popped out, surprising himself as much as they clearly did Samson. “All I need is you. I see that now. I see how foolish I’ve been. I shouldn’t pressure you into something you don’t want or aren’t ready for. That’s not how love works.”

  Surprisingly, Samson chuckled. “Linus, I swear…” He shook his head.

  “What?” Had he messed things up further?

  “Here I am trying to express myself and you beat me to it.” Samson reached out, cupping his cheek, caressing his skin with his thumb. “Yes, you need a ring. I want this to be perfect and special.”

  “It’s…us, we’re already perfect and special.”

  “Suppose I can’t disagree with that.” Samson scrunched up his face. “This isn’t exactly going how I planned.”

  “Sorry.”

  He smiled. “It’s going better. I thought my foolishness drove you away and I cost myself the only thing in this world that really matters to me. So I want to say, you’ll get your ring, Linus, I promise. Someday, when it feels right and when you least expect it. I’m not even going to ask. I’ll just take your hand and slip it on your finger because I already know I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

  A tear slipped free. Samson leaned forward, kissing it away, his lips feathery soft. “I love you, Linus. I love you more than the day I met you and with each day that passes my love grows. Say you’ll still be mine.”

  “I…”

  Linus stood abruptly, remembering how this all started and the way he wanted his actions to speak louder than words. This seemed like a prime opportunity to do the same. His sudden movement brought Samson to his feet, a questioning expression on his face. He picked up the bag that had been sitting at his side. “Do I still want to be yours? Why Samson, I do believe that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever asked me. I don’t even have the words to answer you.”

  “Oh.” Samson’s eyes got wide and he took a step back.

  Linus grinned. He held the bag over the bed and waved it back and forth. Dozens of rose petals floated out from within and scattered over the messy blankets. When he was certain the bag was empty he let it drop to the floor, turning back to Samson. He hooked a finger in the barely clinging towel. “Why use words when I think there’s another way to express exactly how we feel? I’ve been away from you far too long, Samson, and it’s time to fix that.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Samson said.

  The towel slipped to the floor and Linus squealed as Samson tackled him to the bed.

  THE END

  ABOUT KASSANDRA LEA

  Kassandra Lea lives in WI where she enjoys the bitter winters with long hours of writing. She shares her living space with a cast of four-legged critters, her mom, and a friendly ghost.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!