Make Me Whole (21 page)

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Authors: Marguerite Labbe

BOOK: Make Me Whole
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Nick reached the other end, smoothly flipped under water, and headed back toward him. His head popped up near the edge, and he folded his arms on the tiles as he looked at Galen. “Why aren’t you naked?”

“Sorry, I was too busy watching you.” Galen shrugged out of the rest of his clothes and folded them on the bench to give himself a moment to recover from the sudden spate of nerves. He had no reason to be shy. After all, Nick had seen him naked on more than one occasion. This time was different, and he couldn’t figure out why.

He heard Nick get out of the water, and his pulse jumped. An arm slipped around him and pulled Galen back against a very warm, very wet body. “You’re stalling. Did you change your mind?”

Galen shook his head, unable to speak. He repressed a shudder of longing as he clutched at Nick’s arm, and he wondered what the other man would say if he knew what he was thinking. It had been a very long time since someone had awakened those deeply buried fantasies of being bound or spanked. It wasn’t a desire that Bryan had understood. Hints from his past with Nick made him think he might be more open to the idea.

As if he read his mind, Nick’s hand slid down to squeeze his flank. Galen’s mind spun dizzily, and his breath came faster. He had the urge to lean over and lay his hands on the bench and spread his legs apart. He wanted to hear the sound of a wet palm against skin echo throughout this otherwise still chamber.

The shyness returned tenfold, and he finally realized why. Nick mattered. He hadn’t been with anyone who had mattered to him in such a long time. He wanted to win Nick back, but he also wanted Nick to fall for who Galen really was, the whole package. Not the mess that he had been before, but who he was now with all of his obsessions with his museum, his inability to be still for any length of time, and all those other bits and parts of him that he hadn’t let show before.

“What do you want?” Nick asked close to his ear, hot breath sending a shiver through him. “Tell me.”

Galen wanted Nick’s hands on him rough and hard.
He wanted Nick to make him expose himself so that he felt vulnerable and safe at the same time. He wanted Nick to take him back to his place and have crazy sex until they were both exhausted, and then he wanted to wake up next to Nick in the morning.

The words remained locked in his head, unable to make their way to his tongue. As much as he tried, he couldn’t seem to get past the last hurdle and open himself up to Nick more. And right now, feeling the hard press of Nick’s cock against him made it very hard to think, period. The man got to him on such a visceral level.

“Not ready yet?” Nick asked, and his lips curved against Galen’s ear. “No worries. I’ll keep waiting for you, but for now, it’s playtime.”

Before Galen could react to that statement and the shock of lust it sent through him, he found himself hauled back toward the pool.
Oh crap.
His surprised cry of protest echoed shockingly loud off the walls. Too late he tried to twist away, only to find himself falling toward the still surface of the pool with Nick’s arms locked securely around him. The smooth, silky water engulfed him, the sensation very sensual against his bare skin.

Galen emerged and shoved his wet hair out of his eyes to the sound of Nick chuckling. He turned to see Nick swimming backward away with a shit-eating grin on his face. “The look on your face, sweetheart. Come on, swim with me.”

“Okay, it’s on, Nicholas. Just wait till I catch you.”

Nick laughed again and stopped a few lengths out of reach. “You’re sexy when you’re wet. Bring it.”

The smile on Nick’s face and his playfulness eased Galen’s worry that he was shoving the other man away. Maybe Nick could see that he was working on it. Maybe he could open up to him, let him know about what happened with his last relationship without Nick freaking out and putting distance between them because he didn’t want to be the rebound guy. Those were thoughts for another night though, because tonight, Nick needed a kiss and a dunking.

 

 


F
IFTEEN
more minutes, and then I swear I’m outta here,” a testy voice cut through the air as Nick walked through the museum’s front entrance the following Saturday.

“I can get it done in twenty if you’d frickin’ stay still.”

The sound of a heated discussion came from the workshop, and Galen kept peering toward it with his eyebrows drawn together in mild concern as he rang up customers in the gallery. Several others browsed the shop, and a couple was disappearing down the hallway toward the exhibit. It didn’t look as though he would get a break anytime soon to eat the lunch Nick had brought for him.

Nick caught his attention, pointing toward the workshop, and relief crossed Galen’s face. “Could you rein it in for me? Thanks.”

“No problem.” Nick poked his head into the workroom. There was only a handful of kids in there and one rather bored-looking model who kept getting distracted by the people walking by outside. He guessed that being the object of an artist’s muse wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. The source of the argument seemed to be between him and the young, pimply faced man painting him.

“Almost there, just move your hand back and stop twisting around, please,” the artist said, sounding like he was striving for patience.

Several pairs of eyes turned toward Nick, some curious, others disinterested as they went back to what they were doing. “Hey, are you Mr. K’s boyfriend?” the model asked, sitting up as the artist hissed in annoyance and then turned a glare on Nick.

“That’s me. I’m Nick Charisteas.” This time all activity stopped as the rest of the room focused their attention on him. “I take it the rumor mill has been going strong.”

“Knox told us he was seeing someone.” Nick’s lips twitched in a smile as the model sized him up. Looked like someone had a case of wishful thinking where Galen was concerned.

A long table was set up on one end of the room where most of the artists were gathered working on various projects. The model lounged on a dais, and the painter sat at his easel. There was plenty of room for more people to set up their own projects, and with the bay doors, Nick imagined lighting was rarely a problem.

“Galen wants you two to take it down a notch,” Nick said with a pointed look at the both of them. “If people can hear you in the gallery and shop, it’s an issue.”

“Sorry.” The model grimaced with a shrug. “We’re almost done here anyway… right?”

“I’m done now,” the artist replied, tossing his paintbrush into a cup of water. “This is a damn mess. Next time, I’m taking a picture and painting from that. You’re the worst model ever.”

The model opened his mouth to protest, his eyes flashing hotly, and Nick interrupted him before he could start. “Don’t. Galen’s made a real nice place for you here. He’s alone today and frazzled, so don’t abuse his trust in you. Got it, guys?”

“Got it.” The artist started cleaning up his brushes with a quick, disgusted glance at his model. “I promise, no more yelling.”

“Thanks.” Nick wanted to linger and take a look around to see what everybody else was working on, but he sensed that he was an unwelcome distraction, so he backed out instead and left them to get back to their projects.

It had started to rain, the drops making a soothing background murmur against the skylights and huge, glassed-in bay doors. Galen was wrapped up with the final customer, so Nick found an out-of-the-way spot to watch and wait. He liked how animated Galen got when he spoke, always gesturing to emphasize points. Galen didn’t just speak with his hands; his whole body gave away his feelings on a subject.

Watching Galen was how Nick knew he was holding back on several levels. Galen hadn’t mentioned the accident that had killed the last man he’d loved since he last brought it up. Sometimes Nick was okay with that, and sometimes he couldn’t help wondering when Galen was going to backtrack because he didn’t know if Galen had completely dealt with that loss. There was something left unspoken, something that still bugged Galen. Nick had tried getting him to talk a couple of times, and somehow the subject always ended up changed. And until Nick knew what other hurt Galen held onto, he couldn’t be certain of where he stood with him.

A part of him said that he should cut his losses before he got in too deep; his cynical side said it was too late, and that tiny, nagging voice of hope kept urging him to give it more time. After all, they’d only been dating a few weeks, which was a vast improvement over the casual, sexual fling they’d had before.

And memories of Galen wrapped around him at the pool, kissing the breath out of him, made it hard to remember that they had decided to take their relationship much slower this time. Why the hell had they decided that? Nick wasn’t sure anymore. However, he was glad Galen hadn’t given in and told him what he wanted that night. He didn’t want their first time, after all these months, to be rushed with the threat of being caught hanging over them.

Nick wanted to explore the new side he’d sensed in Galen that night. He hadn’t missed the suppleness in Galen’s body as he’d leaned back against him, or the new shyness, with those sideways, longing glances as if there was something he really wanted but was hesitant to say what it was. Nick had wondered then if he had ordered Galen to tell him what he wanted, whether the other man would’ve obeyed.

Another night he just might test that theory.

Galen glanced over and smiled as the customer walked away with a frame wrapped up in several layers of protective insulation. “Is that lunch? You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yep, lamb gyro, with extra tzatziki sauce and feta.” Galen’s eyes lit up, and he reached for the bag. “Where did everybody go? I know Suzane’s out, but don’t you normally have someone else helping you on Saturdays?”

“Heather had a family thing today. She felt bad about leaving me all alone, but I told her no worries, she’d helped me out Comicon day, and I figured Knox would be in at some point. It turns out he’s doing a big move, and it’s going to take most of the day. Ella’s girlfriend dragged her out for a break earlier, and I hate asking her to keep an eye out on things for me because it makes her a nervous wreck.”

“Well, for the rest of the day, I’m all yours.” Nick handed Galen a soda and the bag with the gyro and chips. “What do you need me to do?”

“You don’t have to if—”

“I do want to.” Nick looked around at the gallery filled with pieces created by local gay artists, the door that led to the workshop where young artists could gather in a safe place to express themselves. This place was a haven. This was the kind of job he’d dreamed of having in college, and somewhere, it got muddled, or he got lost. “I really like what you’ve built here. It sure as hell beats doing a nine-to-five, shoving paperwork around.”

“Thanks, Nick.” There was that adorably flustered look in Galen’s eyes that seemed to pop up more often as they continued to see each other. It made him want to kiss the expression right off his face. “What was going on in the workshop? I couldn’t make out what they were arguing about. Vincent delivered the supplies this morning, and sometimes they take that as an excuse to open everything new instead of using up the old or to fight over the new pickings.”

The name sounded familiar to Nick in a way that sent an unpleasant prickle through him, but he couldn’t place it. He only knew a handful of the people who helped Galen with the museum, so he must’ve heard him mention the guy before. There were more than enough things going on lately to make him question everything.

“It was more of a staffing problem. The model was bored and wanted to be anywhere else but on the stand.” Nick glanced back at the workshop that was now quiet. “I think they’ve resolved it. The artist is moving on to other things.”

Galen grimaced and unwrapped the gyro. “I know who you’re talking about, and that relationship is going downhill very fast.” He gestured toward the hallway that led to the exhibits and shot Nick a pleading glance. “Would you mind checking in on the rest of the place? I haven’t had a chance to go back there since Ella left, and she normally keeps an eye and ear out for me when we’re understaffed.”

“No problem.” Nick left him to his lunch and checked the open exhibit room. There were a few patrons looking about, and no one had ventured past the roped-off area in the hallway that led to the new room. Nick stared at the statues for a few minutes. They unsettled him and excited him at the same time. He wanted to see the curse broken but had little faith that it would be, and the whole situation left him feeling stuck in limbo.

He returned to the photograph exhibit and chatted with a few patrons, answering what questions he could. When he came back to Galen, he was cleaning off the counter from his lunch. “All clear, Galen.”

“Excellent.”

Nick’s phone rang, and his stomach dropped at the sound of the ringtone he’d set aside for his dad. The calls had been coming more frequently, and each time he let it go unanswered, the cold, lonely sensation inside him deepened even more. He missed his family.

Galen crossed his arms on the counter. “You’re not going to answer?”

Nick grimaced and shrugged. “It can wait.” Though hadn’t it waited long enough? He was only making it worse, and he knew he was making it worse, yet he couldn’t seem to stop the twisted carousel he was on. It had gotten to be such a mess, and he didn’t know who to blame anymore or how to set it right.

Galen studied his face and leaned closer. “Who is it? You never seem to answer the call. At least not when I’m around. And you’ve got a look on your face like it’s the IRS or an obnoxious telemarketer.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. It’s my dad.” Nick looked away, pressing his lips together.

“What is it?”

Nick hesitated, torn between wanting to get Galen’s opinion on the situation and… to be honest, a little ashamed to go into it. “Nothing so…. Is there anything else I can do around here?”

“Look, I know it’s not really my business to say something—”

“Then don’t.” Nick turned away so he wouldn’t have to see Galen’s expression change. He didn’t know why he did that, shoved people away when he knew logically they were just reaching out to him. Logic seemed to have no control over his emotions. He rubbed his thumb over the cell phone case. He had to put a stop to this circling madness, and for the first time he admitted to himself that he was scared it was too late.

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