Heart on the Run by Havan Fellows

Author:Havan Fellows [Fellows, Havan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: holiday romance, anal sex, manlove, parkerburg, gay romance, mm romance, gay sex
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

His bedroom looked like the Halloween store on Third Street came over for a cocktail, got bombed, and threw up all over the place. Plastic bags littered the floor, bits and pieces of costumes in mostly black draped over the furniture. He’d already abandoned a vampire cloak as too cliché, a werewolf mask as too hot, a Death Eater’s cloak and mask as too juvenile, and various other options that had looked good on a hanger and less appealing on him.

Unable to make a decision, Chaz did what he always did—called his mother. Now, Chaz stood in front of his laptop, turning this way and that to let her assess his latest outfit.

“Well, sweetie, who is that one supposed to be again?”

Sweetie. Baby. Honey. Ever since he remembered, Mom had called him endearments, his father too. The sugary terms had embarrassed the hell out of him when he was a kid, but now he savored them. There weren’t enough tender words in his life, and he certainly didn’t go throwing them around. Some gay men did, some women as well. To them, dear and honey and darling were glitter. A little sparkle of affection, something to brighten the day or close the gaps between people and create an intimate feeling that covered loneliness like a Band-Aid. For Chaz, those words were diamonds. He couldn’t afford to scatter them in conversation with strangers any more than he could throw jewels in the Salvation Army collection kettle.

“Zorro?” He looked for the tag and packaging to be sure. This was his sixth change, and Sprocket was supposed to meet him at Prudence’s at eight. Which meant he had an hour to choose a costume, shower, clean up this mess. His gaze landed on the bed and lingered. He had to clear up the costume debris and make his bed with fresh sheets, in case Sprocket wanted to come over after the haunted house…and— The thought of the man conjured an immediate physical reaction that nearly took his breath away. One day, he’d get used to it, the effect Sprocket had on him.

But meanwhile, his mother had a great view into his room, and his…

He willed the erection away, forced himself to focus on that. His mother. The coming night. The not-date with the man he loved.

Loved.

Because he had to be honest, at least with himself. Charles Darwin Millsworth, Southern gentleman, neurotic chef, statistic waiting to happen. Loved. Sprocket.

And he didn’t even know the man’s real name. He stood stunned…staring at the bed, shocked by the revelation he’d finally made to himself. Had he known before? Did it matter?

“Wouldn’t Zorro have a sword, sweetie?” His mother sounded doubtful.

“I like that one.” A white-haired man with a waxed mustache leaned into view over Dana’s shoulder.

“Mom!” Chaz spun around aghast at the idea of a complete stranger viewing his room in such a disastrous state and himself all…discombobulated. “Who…”

“Oh, sweetie. This is Marcel. He’s going back to the kitchen now to finish making me dinner.”

The white-haired gentleman smiled.

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