Stalwart by K.L. Noone

Author:K.L. Noone [K.L. Noone]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5: Day 22, or the Worst Day of Jason’s Life

Colby woke to the demanding ring of his mobile phone and the thunderous riot of the storm outside and the shield-wall heat of Jason wrapped around him; bewildered by the collision of sensory input, he struggled out of snug dreams and forgot to move. He’d been warm.

He’d been warm literally and metaphorically. He felt Jason’s solidity, big and male and deliciously naked; he thought, champagne bubbling up in his veins with the thought, I love you. I love you, Jason—

He could’ve laughed. He could’ve written a romance. A love confession. Vows.

He’d been here for Jason. He’d held Jason through the shakiness of yesterday’s scene; he’d done something good and right for the man he loved. The man he adored, with that giant heart worn so openly, so bruisable.

Colby would protect that heart. It was his, now, even if he did not know quite how that’d been possible; he would guard it with his entire self, which might be inadequate, but he’d do the best he could. He’d throw himself between Jason and every threat to that wonderful generous soul. He swore that to the rain and their shared bed and Jason’s leg draped over his.

As if in punctuation, his phone went off again. So did Jason’s; Jason was making grumbly waking-up sounds and sitting up, keeping large legs and large self nestled around Colby. “What—are you okay, what’s—what the fuck—”

“That’s my publicist.” Colby stretched an arm, caught his phone as it buzzed. A text. “I’m fine, but you can stay right there; you feel excellent. If someone’s calling both of us, then it’s something to do with both of us, isn’t it, unless that’s highly improbable coincidence—is yours—” He was reading. He froze. He stared at the screen and the irony of words on it, when he couldn’t find the words.

“Hey,” Jason was saying to his phone, “Susan, what—no, I haven’t seen anything, I was asleep—what do you mean we need to say something, slow down—okay, hang on, I need to check on Colby—what? Yeah, he’s here, we’re both here—”

Colby held out his own phone. Let Jason see the screen.

John Kill Gets His Man? shouted the first magazine headline, followed by, Jason Mirelli Shares Tender Moment With Colby Kent—More Than Co-Stars? The picture sat under that like the hand of fate: blurry and zoomed in, but clearly someone’s snapshot from the day before, on set. The photo’d been of the whole ballroom—everybody laughing, dancing, Katy Perry lyrics floating like streamers through the air—but Jason and Colby were visible and undeniably themselves.

In each other’s arms. Gazing at each other. Jason’s fingers brushing Colby’s cheek. Period clothing and polished boots. The heat in Jason’s expression.

In the snapshot, they melted into each other, into the moment. Despite the blurry quality, Colby’s joy and Colby’s smile were evident; the depth of Jason’s intent, Jason’s fierce heart, was on display. No mistaking that for anything other than what it was.

Jason cursed aloud. Thunder boomed to show its support.

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