Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Aside from that one time when I fucked up a double column along your thigh. I considered burning the rope and never doing bondage again. That’s how frustrated I was. I couldn’t for the life of me get the knots right. But you grabbed me by my shoulders, rested your forehead to mine, and said, “Breathe, baby. Hit that pause button and take a deep breath. You know what you’re doing.”
You’ve been my anchor since the day we met, Ash.
CHAPTER 3
Fifteen years ago
London
Ash Riley
“To five amazing years together, love!”
“To five amazing years,” I echoed and kissed his neck.
My fucking God, we’d needed this vacation. This break. Our first big trip together too, to celebrate a fantastic anniversary, which happened to fall during London Pride. We were surrounded by rainbows and cheers, the sun was shining down on us, not a single cloud in the sky, and the parade was full of life and hope.
I hugged Nate tightly from behind as we watched another glamorous float roll by.
We clung to that hope. We were getting closer back home too, but for every two steps forward, we suffered a setback. We just had to focus on the positives. Someone would choose us eventually. My mother had warned me from the very beginning. The odds were stacked against us, and it could take decades. The one upside was that the legislative changes were finally picking up the pace.
We’d been hearing sunshine stories since the ’90s, and it was only a matter of time.
More and more lately, I was even hearing talk about legalizing same-sex marriage across the country, which was another goal. Nate and I had tied the knot in the most low-key way possible last year. We’d vowed in front of our parents and a clerk that we’d forget that day as soon as we weren’t treated like second-class citizens. It was a piece of paper for adoption purposes. A piece of paper that held very little validity outside the state. But we’d done it as a compromise to make things easier in our fight, and we would replace the day with a more significant one the moment the law became federal. When we could get married like anybody else.
We didn’t even wear rings. We were too resentful. Marriage was supposed to be a union of love, not tax breaks and benefits. Or proof of being worthy of parenthood.
But hey. The conversation about legalizing marriage for us had started. That was the first step. Talking about it. Getting people used to the idea, as Nate had taught me.
I squeezed him tighter to me and buried my face against his neck.
What the fuck would I do without him?
“You know I love a good Pride parade, but is this over soon?” he asked. “I’m fucking starving.”
I rumbled a laugh and kissed his neck once more. “Let’s go eat. It ain’t our last parade.”
“Thank God.” He flashed me a sexy grin and threaded our fingers together. “You wanna go back to that American steakhouse?”
“Yeah, I don’t even care. Take me back. Their ribs were solid.” In our defense, we’d had plenty of fish and chips since we’d arrived four days ago.
We maneuvered our way out of the Pride crowd, and Nathan handed our little rainbow flags to a couple passing by with two strollers.
One day.
“What’s next on our sight-seeing list?” he asked.
“Buckingham Palace, I think,” I replied. “And first thing tomorrow morning, the Tower.”
“I can’t wait. I love that there’s so much history. The whole city is like walking in a museum.”
It definitely was.
About fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the steakhouse where we’d had dinner last night, and I didn’t care if I looked like an ungrateful American tourist. I wanted ribs and wings, and I wasn’t gonna apologize for it.
We were shown to a nice corner booth close to the AC, which they weren’t generous with in this country, and then came the dreaded question when we ordered our drinks. I automatically said Coke, when I remembered…
“Is Pepsi all right?”
Can I pay with toilet paper?
Nate had, over the years, betrayed me by slowly coming to enjoy Pepsi—so he was as happy today as he’d been yesterday. Meanwhile, I ordered a ginger ale. They were forced to carry that in an American restaurant.
“And an ice water, thanks,” I added. “None of that sparkling shit. Plain ice water.”
We were soon left alone with our menus, and I let out a breath. We’d come here at the perfect time. The lunch rush was long since over, but it was too early for dinner.
“Oh—one more thing,” I said, as I recalled it. “You were gonna make up your mind about tonight. If we’re going to that kinky gay club or not.”
He frowned at his menu. “I forgot about that.”
I was good either way. Obviously, I would prefer not to go, but I didn’t hate those events anymore. On the contrary, shit had gotten a lot easier once Nathan and I had started making real friends in Boston. We’d come to realize how easy and fun it could be to play with others when you knew them. Not that we ventured very far. We kept things nonsexual, but it was okay to care for the subs. It was okay to give a damn. It was okay to form attachments in a platonic way. If anything, it was liberating to discover how wholeheartedly Nate and I trusted each other, because we always put each other first.