Loving You (Words We Never Said #4)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

brONX

Bronx’s day had gone from bad to weird in the span of the twelve seconds it took for his receptionist to say, “There’s a man waiting for you in your office.” For a moment, his heart leapt. Maybe Monty had shown up. Maybe he’d figured out a way to bribe reception to let him back.

Something he’d have to talk to them about since no one was supposed to be in there without his direct permission, but he’d let it go just this once.

Then he opened the door and saw Rod sitting in one of his guest chairs, his ankle hooked over his knee, looking almost bored. Bronx took a step back before collecting himself and walking into the room. He wasn’t going to let this man intimidate him.

“How did you get back here?”

“I told them I was your attorney,” he said.

“Cool. So you’re a liar and a fucking weirdo.” Bronx sat at his desk and stared him directly in the eye. “What do you want?”

“Your price. ”

Bronx choked on his tongue before forcing himself to swallow. “My what ? I’m sorry. I thought we cleared up the whole I’m not a hooker thing back at Monty’s place.”

Rod sneered. “I’m well aware you’re not. I’d have preferred it if you were. This would be easier.” Rod reached into his jacket pocket and set a card down on the table. It was a Black Card. Bronx had only ever seen one once when a very wealthy client had paid for a tumor removal on his serval. “Your price.”

“Once again, not a hooker,” Bronx said. “I’d have a better house if I had clients with Black Cards.”

“I have a lot of money,” Rod said, tapping his finger beside the card. “Monty refuses to take it.”

“So you want to pay me to…?”

“Leave him alone,” Rod said.

Bronx rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. “I really hate the fact that you’re not joking. Once again, I am not for hire. You can’t bribe me to stay away from my boyfriend.”

“You have a son. A new business. No home?—”

“Are you trying to threaten me? Because I do not take kindly to that,” Bronx said, his voice a sudden, low rumble. “I know men like you. I was married to a man like you, and I wiped the floor with him in court. You don’t scare me. The sad fact is that you still scare your son, but if I have my way, he’s going to forget what you look like soon enough.”

“He’ll never stop vying for my approval,” Rod said mildly.

Bronx laughed. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night, that’s fine by me. But in ten years, when your little Black Card isn’t enough to keep a person in your bed longer than a few days and you’re on your eleventh divorce, you’ll remember this. You’ll look at your son, who has never been happier, and you’ll choke on regret.” He stared at Rod’s skeptical expression. “Or maybe you’ll keep living your life and not give a shit what happens to your kids. Frankly, it’s all the same to me since I’ll be the one making Monty happy.”

Rod stood up and pressed two fingers over the card. “ Everyone has a price.”

“Yeah. My price to walk away is Monty telling me that he’s not in love with me and doesn’t want to see me again. I cannot and will not be bought. I know it’s hard for someone like you to understand, but maybe go away and sit with it for a while. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” When Rod didn’t move, Bronx sighed. “Have a nice day.”

“You’re too old for him,” Rod said, but he picked up his card. “How’s it going to be in ten years? In fifteen years, when his stamina is growing and yours is waning?”

“Why don’t you call me and let me know,” Bronx said flatly. “I’m sure you’re nearly there.”

Rod slipped the card back into his pocket. “You’ll regret this.”

“I won’t. And if you try some shit like this again, I have friends who can make you sorry. Your money doesn’t mean shit in a small town like this where people grew up together. So run along,” Bronx said, waving him off with his hand. “Go torment one of your other kids who actually puts up with it.”

Silence fell as Rod left, and Bronx waited ten minutes before walking into reception and clearing his throat. The two women looked over at him nervously.

“That man is not my attorney. I don’t currently have an attorney on retainer, and I sure as hell wouldn’t see them at my place of work.”

“I’m so sorry,” Henrietta began. “I didn’t?—”

“It’s fine,” he said, cutting her off. It wasn’t fine, but he could overlook it just the once. “But if he comes here again, call the cops and trespass him. He’s not welcome.”

Turning on his heel, he glanced down the hall at two charts sitting in the little bins beside the door. He could take a minute or two to calm down before he started the first patient, and he needed that. His stomach was twisted around itself.

What he needed was to speak to Monty. He couldn’t keep this to himself. Monty needed to know that his father had gone this far. Walking to his desk, he opened the top drawer and grabbed his phone, startled when he saw Monty’s name on the screen already.

Monty: Can I see you tonight?

Bronx: Yeah. We need to talk, actually.

Monty: Oh.

Bronx: Not like that.

Maybe it was like that. He had no idea how Monty was going to react when he finally confessed his feelings.

Bronx: Want me to come over?

Monty: Yes, please. I’ll be home when you’re off. See you then.

Bronx sent a heart in response in spite of himself. He didn’t know what was going to happen—what he was going to say, how it was all going to end. But something had to give. He was in love with Monty, breaking both of their rules, but it was time to tell him.

It was time to rip the Band-Aid off. Now or never. Do or die. All of those ridiculous metaphors that meant the same thing—it was time to come clean because he was tired of living in a world where he wasn’t Monty’s and Monty wasn’t his.

Bronx debated about going home to shower. He had on a fresh set of scrubs, but having a cat nervous-shit all over him left a lingering smell that the office sink couldn’t quite scrub off. It was par for the goddamn course that day, and all he really wanted was to see Monty.

He had no idea how it was all going to go, but goddamn, he could at least sneak in a few kisses and maybe a long hug before it all went to hell.

He drove over as quickly as he could without getting popped for speeding and fidgeted at the door after ringing the bell. It took so long for Monty to answer Bronx started to panic about getting his info wrong, but then Monty threw the door open, looking frazzled. Somewhere behind him, Bronx could hear a loud alarm wailing.

“I burnt dinner,” Monty said, sounding on the verge of tears.

“Oh, sparky. You’re supposed to set me aflame, not the house.” Bronx took him by the face and kissed him in spite of the lingering stench clinging to his skin. Monty didn’t seem to notice—which was probably a side effect from the smoke, and he groaned into the kiss before peeling away.

“I need to fix it,” Monty said.

Bronx reached into his scrubs pocket and pulled out his wallet, pressing it against Monty’s chest. “Throw it all away and order something. Heavy on the carbs for me. Preferably with a ton of cheese. It’s been a rough day. ”

The alarm finally quieted just as Monty closed the door, and he looked worried. “What happened?”

Bronx sighed and grabbed Monty’s hand, kissing it. Just the feel of his skin was comforting. “I’m going to tell you all about it, but I need a shower first. Ten minutes before we closed, I got pooped on by a very spicy kitten.”

Monty looked like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh no.”

“Mm. Do you mind?”

Monty went up onto his toes to give Bronx a proper kiss. “No. I don’t mind. Borrow whatever you want, and I’ll have something edible waiting for you.”

Bronx wanted to hold off, but he also wanted to get clean before Monty’s olfactory senses came back online, so he hurried to the bedroom and closed the door behind him. The whole house smelled a little like charcoal, but it was better than what was happening at the office.

He peeled away his scrubs and tucked them beside the toilet before turning on the water and stepping under the warm spray. Monty’s soap was lightly scented, and it lathered up exactly enough for Bronx to wash away the last of his day.

He wished Monty was with him there, but knowing he’d have him soon was enough to get him through. It didn’t take long for him to dry off, and once he was certain he no longer smelled, he dressed in a pair of borrowed sweats and a hoodie that actually fit him well enough. He checked his appearance in the mirror, not entirely satisfied, but there wasn’t much he could do about the age lines in his face.

He’d be a liar if he didn’t admit that Rod’s words had gotten to him. It was something he thought about. At some point, their age difference might matter. He’d be a withered old man while Monty was still in the prime of his twilight years. Eventually, he’d be less partner and more caregiver to Bronx, and then what would happen?

Regret? Resentment?

The feeling sat heavy in his stomach as he made his way to the kitchen, but when he didn’t find Monty there, he shuffled into the living room and froze. The coffee table was gone, and on the floor was a nest of blankets and pillows. A handful of Styrofoam boxes sat in the center, along with what looked like a paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers and a round, puffy Squishmallow in the shape of some animal he didn’t immediately recognize. It was small and pink and looked very soft.

Monty stood off to the side, wringing his hands nervously. “The quickest food I could order was Greek—but they’re not authentic. They had pastitsio though.”

Bronx deflated, then crossed the distance and took Monty into his arms. “That sounds amazing. I don’t expect authentic here, sweetheart. But what is all this?”

“It’s…” Monty rubbed the back of his neck nervously, nearly dislodging Bronx’s grip on him. “I wanted to do something for you. Something nice. I…it’s. It’s silly, I know.” He trailed off on a long string of French Bronx couldn’t hope to understand.

To calm him down, he kissed him. First on the right cheek, then the left. Then the tip of his nose. He moved down to Monty’s jawline, his throat, and eventually up to his mouth. He took him in a lush roll of his tongue, tasting what was probably the dinner he’d attempted. It was spiced and rich and lovely.

“You didn’t need to do all this,” Bronx said very quietly.

“It’s not about need. It’s about wanting you to know that I…” Monty bit his lip, then stepped back and tugged Br onx toward the blankets. They sat in silence for a long moment before Monty found his words again. “You’ve been more than I’ve ever been brave enough to hope for. I told you I didn’t want more than what we had, but that very quickly became a lie. I’ve fallen for you.”

Bronx blinked. He swore someone swept the floor out from under him. “ Oh .”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way. We had an agreement,” Monty rushed on. He picked up the flowers and the stuffed toy and shoved them at Bronx. “I want you to have this anyway. You deserve to have all the people in your life show you how much they love you.”

Bronx’s throat felt hot as he held the flowers and the little creature close. They felt too delicate for his rough hands, but he would rather die than let them go in that moment. “You weren’t the only one who broke the agreement,” he eventually said. He buried his nose in the flowers. There were lilies and daisies and some others he didn’t recognize. No one had ever gotten him a bouquet before. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted them until this moment.

“You…oh. Yes?” Monty asked.

Bronx set his things aside, then took Monty’s hands, squeezing his fingers. “I’ve known for a while. But I didn’t want to ruin this. I didn’t know if you’d cut it off if you knew how I felt, and I wanted to be selfish.”

Monty bowed his head. “Oh.”

“And before either of us make any real confession, you need to know your father came to my office today.”

Monty’s head shot up, his eyes wide, pupils narrow. “He what ?”

“He tried to pay me with his Black Card to stop seeing you,” Bronx told him, not fighting it when Monty pulled away. “He asked me my price.”

Monty’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.

“Obviously, I told him to go fuck himself,” Bronx said. “There’s something deeply wrong with him, and I’m so sorry you’ve had to put up with him for so long.”

Monty cleared his throat. “He’s never gone this far before.”

“Then he must really see me as a threat,” Bronx said. His cheeks went hot at his next confession. “I told him that I was going to make sure that once you cut him off, I’d keep you so happy you’d eventually forget what he looks like. And I know that wasn’t my place to decide for you. I’d never judge you if you kept him in your— mmfph !”

Before Bronx could finish, Monty was on him. He knocked them both to the floor, his kisses too frantic to be sexy, but Bronx let him work out his emotions while he lay there holding Monty against his body. Eventually, the moment settled, and Monty rested his full weight against Bronx’s chest.

“Sorry.”

“How do you say that in French?” Bronx asked.

Monty laughed, rubbing his face back and forth against Bronx’s pec. “You can just say désolé.”

“Mm. Well, I don’t want you to be sorry,” Bronx told him. He rubbed a hand up and down Monty’s spine. “You can pin me to the floor, or the bed, or the couch anytime you want.”

Monty’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he huffed, holding Bronx a little tighter. “I’m in love with you.”

Bronx’s entire body burned with an emotion he’d never felt before. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once. He urged Monty to lift his face and took him by the chin, kissing him long and slow. “I’m in love with you too. I know this is fast. Like, scary fast, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel it.”

“Me too.” Monty took a deep breath, then settled back down on top of him. “Is it okay if I don’t want to move for a little while?”

“Take as long as you need. At least, until tomorrow when I have to go back and finish working on that spicy little kitten.”

Monty laughed and kissed Bronx’s chest before his breathing started to even out. This was the best Bronx had felt in…maybe ever. At least since his son was born and he got to hold him in his arms for the first time. He was happy. Content. Head over heels. And right then, there was absolutely nothing about his life that he’d change.