Make Me Believe_ Hawaiian Haven - Jenna Kendrick

MAKE ME BELIEVE HAWAIIAN HAVEN, BOOK 1

JENNA KENDRICK

CONTENTS Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Jenna Kendrick

Copyright © 2015 by Jenna Kendrick All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Editor: Raevyn McCann Cover Artist: LateNite Designs

This book is a work of fiction. Any

resemblance to people living or dead, events, settings, or other real-life details is completely coincidental.

Warning This book contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature and is intended for readers age 18 and above.

For Greg, with whom I want to enjoy every sunset.

1

Tyler Bryant put the jeep into park and stomped across the parking garage to Aeropuerto Internacional La Aurora baggage claim. God, he hoped the plane

was on time and he could get back to the beach before dark. October was the middle of the season for his work. He had a very small staff and a revolving door of ecotourist volunteers, all of whom required weeks of hand-holding and answers to inane questions before they reached any level of competence at their assigned tasks. Just in time for most of them to return to the States with a suntan, a larger Spanish vocabulary, and stories about how they had single-handedly saved the sea turtle ecosystem. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. In the midst of this chaos, he now

had to deal with Drake Sutton, a man with the attention span of a goldfish and the commitment of a bonobo chimpanzee. His ex. Well, inasmuch as you could call someone an ex if you still rolled over for him anytime he deigned to show up. But this visit’s going to be the last time. Janie, his assistant, believed if you said something often enough, you could make it your reality, and he desperately needed that to be true in this case. He entered the bustling airport, taken aback by the cacophony of announcements over the public address

system, family members greeting each other with high-pitched squeals, crying children, and the luggage shifting on the squeaky conveyor belt. He was so used to the quiet on his little slice of beach that the clamor of the rest of the world seemed amplified when he was forced to reenter civilization. His current hangover exacerbated the noise tenfold. Damn, he really should’ve taken that fourth ibuprofen. Or maybe not let Janie ply him with shots of Quetzalteca last night after he’d received the call informing him Drake was on his way. He took a quick glance around the

baggage claim area, looking for his unwelcome houseguest. At that moment, the sea of bodies in front of him parted a bit, giving him a clear look at a man leaning laconically against the wall, trying to avoid attention. Hard to do when you were a striking six foot four among a crowd of harried locals and slouched, weary tourists. Drake was still the hottest guy he’d ever seen, even after five hours cooped up in a flying tin can. Tyler looked for a flaw, anything to remind him of his resolution, and noticed Drake’s sandy brown hair, pulled back from his face into a ponytail long enough

to rest on his shoulder. He hadn’t cut it after filming the newest Rage movie, and Tyler hated the intrusion of Drake’s Hollywood celebrity persona into his corner of the world. Drake must have felt Tyler staring because he turned in his direction and pushed away from the wall, making his way across the crowded floor. Tyler couldn’t help watching the man’s every move—the way his left bicep bulged as he lifted his suitcase, too impatient to wheel it behind. How he filled out his well-worn jeans as his legs ate up the distance between them. The way the

corners of his emerald green eyes crinkled as he pulled off his dark sunglasses. His lips curled up in a comfortable smile as he stopped in front of Tyler and set down the suitcase. Tyler almost felt his own lips turning in reply, but he quickly tamped it down. “Drake.” Drake’s smile dimmed a bit at the lack of welcome in Tyler’s voice, but it didn’t stop him from leaning in closer. “Hey, Ty. You look good.” Tyler pulled back, avoiding the embrace. “Let’s get out of here before you’re recognized.” Drake Sutton might

not be as quite as big a deal down here in Guatemala City as he was stateside, but after three mega-hit movies in as many years, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Tyler reached for the bag, avoiding the look of disappointment that crossed Drake’s face. He strode to the exit and across the parking lot, not bothering to see if Drake kept up with him. Of course he would, now that Tyler had finally gotten over him. Just not when it had mattered. He tossed the suitcase into the back of the jeep, snapping the canvas flap

closed so the bag wouldn’t get flung from the vehicle when they got to the beach roads closer to home. He got into the driver’s side, trying not to notice how much smaller the car felt with Drake in the passenger seat. Tyler used to joke about knowing Drake had fallen asleep when he stopped talking. Quiet stillness just wasn’t part of his makeup. But right now Drake stared straight ahead, running his thumb back and forth over his fingers in a familiar habit, not seeming to be in any hurry to speak. The resulting silence was louder than the airport baggage claim,

making Tyler aware of the lingering effects of last night’s bender all over again. “Can you grab the ibuprofen from the glove box?” Drake pulled the latch, and from the corner of his eye, Ty saw an envelope fall into Drake’s lap. Ty froze for a moment, then snatched the letter away as if rescuing it from a fire. Without taking his eyes off the road, he released the wheel with one hand and leaned over Drake’s lap to snatch the medicine bottle, shoving the envelope back into the compartment and slamming it closed,

hoping Drake hadn’t gotten a look at the return address and wouldn’t start asking questions. Drake took the bottle from him, shaking out two capsules into Tyler’s hand, which he immediately dryswallowed. “Rough night?” Drake asked. “Birthday party for one of our vols.” Followed by several more hours of drinking and emotional bolstering from Janie after the volunteers left. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Drake, and the other man didn’t seem inclined to press for conversation. Instead, Ty saw

him lean against the passenger side window and fall asleep. Dammit, Tyler needed him to act true to form, to try to make small talk or tell stupid jokes, if only so Tyler could maintain control of the situation by shooting him down. If he looked too closely at Drake, allowed himself to see the vulnerability only Tyler ever seemed able to spot, he’d never maintain the resolve to follow through on his plan. The quiet gave him too much time alone with his thoughts, too many opportunities to sneak a glance at Drake’s gorgeous profile. If this was the

last time he’d be this close to the man he loved, he needed to store a lot of memories.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Tyler said, loud enough to startle his passenger. They were approaching El Hawaii, and he couldn’t stay silent for another moment. He’d spent the entire drive vacillating between convincing himself he could continue being satisfied with whatever scraps of attention Drake spared for him and reminding himself why he needed to

cut him out of his life once and for all. The only results of all this selfflagellation were his post-bender headache treading into migraine territory and a desperate need to project some of his disquiet onto Drake. “I thought we agreed we weren’t doing this anymore,” he continued. “You didn’t even have the decency to call me yourself this time. Big shot celebrity, you just had your people tell me you were coming, and they waited until fucking last night to let me know. And you turned your phone off, asshole.” Drake laid his hand on Tyler’s knee,

interrupting his rant, the unexpected contact almost causing Tyler to lose control of the car. “I couldn’t give you the chance to say no, Doc. I needed something good.” And there we have it, the reason I’ve never been able to say no to him. Anytime the pressure of Drake’s career —and living the lie he’d so cavalierly thrown their relationship over for—went to shit, Drake called on Tyler to put him to rights, saying Ty was the one good thing he could always count on. And the part of him that still—always—loved Drake wanted desperately to believe.

But Drake’s words never meant as much as Tyler wanted. They never meant he’d stay. Every time Drake showed up, Tyler had to hold himself back, remind himself this was a hookup, no longer a relationship. He couldn’t keep obsessing over what was missing in himself that Drake could so easily close the closet door and leave for the next movie location without a backwards glance. Obviously, he wasn’t as much of a good thing as Drake claimed. Being a movie star was better. For that alone, for the way Drake made him feel less-than, he

needed to call an end to this. And make it stick this time. Drake’s use of the nickname he’d given Tyler back when they first met served as a stark reminder of all he’d lost over the past few years in addition to his lover. “Did you come here to fuck with me? Or just to fuck me?” He pushed Drake’s hand away, fighting every instinct to curl his fingers around the warmth of his exlover’s wrist and pull him close, beg him to give them a real chance again. “Tyler.” Drake’s voice took on a hard edge as he used Ty’s full name, the only outward sign he was upset. He’d

always been cool as a cucumber, able to turn his emotions on and off at will. An actor. His voice dropped, became more intimate, and he leaned in even closer in the already-tight confines of the car. “I didn’t come here to fuck with you. I came here to keep you.”

THE MAN who featured in all of Drake’s dreams was inches away, and Drake couldn’t even hug him. He was exhausted from the grueling promo schedule for Rage On, but he was too

jittery to rest. Instead, he’d been feigning sleep for over an hour, trying to mentally regroup. He’d come down here with a single goal in mind, but from the moment he spotted Ty at the airport, he’d realized he might already be too late. Ty pulled up to his small house, but made no move to get out of the car. He pushed back against the headrest and squeezed his gray eyes shut, the gestures so familiar, Drake felt a pang of longing, even though he knew they meant Ty was as likely to explode as he was to fight back whatever he wanted to say. But Ty didn’t explode. He didn’t

even open his eyes. He just said, “Your idea of keeping me is showing up to slum it in whatever shack I’m living in and use me as a fuck buddy a few days a year.” “There’s more to us than that, Doc. Even when I gave you up, I knew that.” “We stopped being us the morning you gave me up on Oahu.” Ty’s fingers turned white on the steering wheel. Drake lived on memories of that wreck of a shack in Hawaii. Far from slumming it, he remembered surfing at Sunset Beach, assisting Ty with the green sea turtle research he was undertaking to

earn his doctorate, then grabbing dinner at Ted’s Bakery before enjoying glorious sunsets hand in hand. Sex on the beach after dark, frotting in a hammock, blowjobs under the outdoor shower. He’d spent two of the happiest years of his life there, getting the occasional minor role in some nondescript romcom that’d take him back to the mainland for a few weeks, but then immediately returning to his lover. Then he’d been cast as Rage, the lead in what became the biggest action blockbuster hit of the decade. The role forced him into a Faustian bargain, the cost of which he

hadn’t fully appreciated until it’d been paid. “I miss our shack. I miss you,” he said. “I want what we had back there.” “Don’t do this. Not now.” Ty’s voice was low and strained, but whether from the conversation, his obvious hangover, or one of his frequent headaches, Drake didn’t know. Probably all three. “I thought I could do this one more time, to say good-bye.” Ty dragged a hand over the dark stubble on his chin. “But I’ve finally discovered a small shred of self-preservation, and if I let you have that, there’ll be nothing left of

me.”

2

I t had all sounded so good in Drake’s

head. Travel to Central America and get his man back, for good this time. He’d thought it poetic that their

relationship had fallen apart in Hawaii and now they could rebuild it in another Hawaii, along the Guatemala coast. But he’d waited too long. You knew what you were doing to him every time you hooked up. In Hawaii, Costa Rica, here. Ty let Drake crawl back into his bed once or twice a year, and Drake was a selfish bastard, but he wasn’t completely blind to the toll their stolen days together took on his lover. Drake had walked away from the best relationship he’d ever had, knowing Ty didn’t trust easily and had wellfounded abandonment issues. Then he’d

made Ty feel used and insignificant through all their hookups since, taking advantage of the fact that Ty was too hurt to move on. Now that he found the courage to fix it, he wanted to do it right. Whenever he’d shown up at Ty’s door in the past, he’d avoided public places and stayed away from the turtle nesting grounds and the volunteers who patrolled them. Now, he figured he’d offer to help with egg counts, meet the current vols. Take Ty to dinner at one of the fancy hotel restaurants to show he was no longer afraid to be seen with his lover.

Demonstrate that Drake knew how to cherish him. He wanted to get Ty to trust him again before voicing his intent. Knowing words wouldn’t be enough, he wanted Ty to see he was never going to leave him behind again. Instead, he’d just vomited his truth all over the fucking place before they even got out of the car, and now Ty wasn’t buying it, was rejecting him before he could be hurt again, and he suddenly wanted to ask Ty to just turn the jeep around and return him to the airport. “I can drop you at a hotel for the night, take you back to the airport in the

morn—” Ty’s voice caught, and hearing his shaky resolve strengthened Drake’s own. Running away wasn’t an option. Not from this, not this time. If he wanted a second—hell, whatever number he was up to—chance, he had to prove he would fight for it. If in the end, Ty still sent him away, it was nothing more than he deserved, and maybe he’d eventually even find peace in having given Ty the opportunity to even the score. He sure as shit hadn’t been doing well living with the guilt of what he’d put put his lover through. “One week, Ty. Give me one week to

remind you how good it was.” Drake reached over and palmed the back of Tyler’s dark brown hair, squeezing gently. “To show you how much better it can be.”

“YOU’RE NOT PLAYING FAIR,” Tyler groaned, even as he relaxed into Drake’s touch. Dammit, he might’ve gotten through this if Drake hadn’t touched him. He tried to pull away, but Drake’s hand followed, his long fingers carding through his hair.

“I don’t intend to play fair.” Drake continued stroking the back of Tyler’s head, soothing the ache. “But I don’t want to play at all while you’re five minutes away from a migraine.” God, Tyler had missed this. Much as Drake could be a self-centered ass, he knew the warning signs and exactly how to care for Tyler when he was suffering. At least physically. Tyler’s anger was being swept away by a wall of pain, leaving him desperate to just shut everything—and everyone—out. Of course, he didn’t for one minute believe Drake was serious about the

rest. At the end of this week, he’d hightail it back to LA and be photographed at a premiere with his tongue shoved down a beautiful costar’s throat. A beautiful, female co-star. The distinction made it better and worse by turns. At least he hadn’t been confronted with pictures of Drake with another guy, someone he cared about enough to come out. But it hurt just as much to see him with someone with whom he could share the eyes of the world while Tyler was relegated to the dark corners. “C’mon, let’s get you inside so you

can crash. The rest can wait until tomorrow.” Drake slid out of the car. The dull thud of the passenger door closing roared in Tyler’s ears like the barking of a pod of seals, bringing on a wave of nausea. Losing the will to shrug off Drake’s touch, Ty allowed himself to be led inside his own house. After a quick call to Janie to make sure she had the volunteers covered, he collapsed on the bed. He barely noticed Drake pulling off his shoes before he closed his eyes and gave in to the pain.

3

Tyler woke to a sharp elbow pressed

against his ear and a heavy leg draped over his hip. He opened his eyes carefully, waiting for the onslaught of

pain, but other than a dry mouth, he felt much better. The extra limbs in the bed threw him for a loop at first, but then he remembered—Drake. He looked down and realized he was naked—so was Drake. He vaguely remembered being in too much pain to care that the man he’d just said good-bye to was stripping him bare. He tried to ease out from under the other man’s leg without waking him, but Drake tightened his calf against Tyler’s thigh and pulled him in tighter. His woodsy scent permeated Tyler’s senses. God, he wished that didn’t feel like

coming home. He’d always felt safe in Drake’s arms… right up until he didn’t. “I need to get up,” Tyler said. “Stay. Missed this,” a gravelly voice rumbled in his ear. Tyler had once read an article about Drake that stated his smooth, deep voice made listeners immediately want to take him to bed. Tyler knew firsthand that it took a few minutes in the morning for that tone to appear. His waking voice was even rougher, sexier. He tried again to extricate himself from Drake’s hold. The man’s voice was a gateway drug to Drake’s cock winding

up in Tyler’s mouth. Or vice versa. He knew all the reasons why it was a bad idea, but after months of starving for touch, it was hard to push himself away from the banquet that was Drake’s body. “You promised me a week.” Drake’s voice rumbled in his ear. Tyler turned his head and saw Drake watching him closely, more awake than he’d expected. “No, you demanded, and I was in too much pain to argue. I’m feeling better now.” “Good,” Drake whispered, finally moving his elbow from under Tyler’s head, only to use it for leverage to lean

over him. “So now you can promise.” Tyler made to turn around to fully face Drake, a move hindered by the narrowness of the full-sized mattress. Drake grabbed his shoulder and pulled before he could fall out. Tyler wanted to argue, but before he could work up a head of steam, Drake bent his head and captured Tyler’s lips with his own. Words left him. Morning breath be damned, Tyler opened his mouth to Drake’s tongue. Once Drake realized Tyler wasn’t fighting him, he escalated things quickly. Tyler felt Drake’s legs prodding his own

apart before settling between them. As Drake’s cock nestled against Tyler’s, the room filled with a keening cry that Tyler soon recognized was his own. He rocked against Drake’s body, wishing he had enough freedom of movement to control the pace yet appreciating the weight of his lover on top of his body. When he felt Drake’s hand reach between them to rub their cocks together, it was almost all over. He groaned into Drake’s mouth, taking control of the kiss and thrusting his tongue in rhythm with the movements of Drake’s hand. “I want you,” Drake whispered, and

Tyler’s obsessing over good-byes and heartache disappeared under the onslaught of how much he needed this. He nodded, his cheek rubbing against Drake’s. And then he let go. His head pressed deep into the pillow as Drake licked a path down his neck to his chest, blowing on the wet stripe to make him shiver. Drake chuckled at the familiar reaction just as he reached Tyler’s nipple, the vibration providing a new type of torment. Drake continued moving down his body, letting his belly and chest rub against Tyler’s erection, already

dripping with pre-cum. And then Drake’s mouth was there, sucking the full length of him inside until Tyler felt himself hit the back of Drake’s throat. He would have lost it right then and there if it weren’t for the fingers Drake pressed to the base of his shaft. “Not yet,” Drake pulled off to murmur. “Had to taste you, but want inside you even more.” “Then you better get up here.” Tyler groaned as Drake pulled him back into his mouth for another stroke. Tyler looked down and was caught by Drake’s green eyes staring up at him, assessing

Tyler’s reactions as his tongue licked Tyler’s dark red shaft from base to tip, swirling around the head. “Please, Drake.” “Say it again.” “Please?” It sure as hell better please him because Tyler was going to blow. “No, my name.” “Drake. Please, Drake. Now, Drake.” As soon as Drake pulled off, Tyler shifted to reach for his nightstand, almost dropping the lube on the floor in his haste. He passed the bottle over,

watching Drake drizzle the slick substance over his fingers. Tyler ripped open the condom, refusing to get preoccupied over the need to use them. They’d gone bare three years ago, but now neither man argued about using them for their hookups, neither being willing to broach the tricky subject and its implications. For his part, Tyler knew there was nothing to worry about, but he put the matter aside as he rolled the rubber down Drake’s cock, causing Drake to moan. “Next one’s your turn, baby.” Drake moved back up Tyler’s body and spoke

against his lips as Drake’s lubed finger trailed down his crease and circled his hole, opening him up. “But this time, I need to be inside you.” “Please,” Tyler begged. Drake pushed in, and it burned because it had been so long, but it was even better than the memories that sustained Tyler between visits. When the full length of him was inside, Drake held still for a moment to allow Tyler to adjust. And then he was retreating before pushing back in, again and again. Tyler reached up and ran his hand through Drake’s hair as it formed a veil around

their heads. “Hate the hair.” “If you can think about that right now, I’m not doing this right.” Drake suddenly increased his pace and went even deeper, pegging Tyler’s prostate on every stroke. “Touch me,” Tyler gasped. Before Drake could even move a hand into position, Tyler took his aching erection into his own hands and started stroking. “That’s so hot. Keep going.” Drake closed his hand over Tyler’s, and together they stroked him to the beat of Drake’s movements inside him. Every thrust of Drake’s cock made the most

obscene noises emerge from Tyler’s mouth, but he was helpless to control them. He was so close. “Just. One. More.” Drake’s voice, so rough, so urgent, spurred Tyler the last little bit he needed to get there. He erupted just as Drake let go inside him.

THIS TIME it was Drake’s turn to almost fall out of bed as he slid to Tyler’s side and shifted to remove the condom. “This thing definitely isn’t made for two. I was afraid to move last night because I’d

either crush you or crash to the floor.” “I don’t usually share it,” Tyler said, realizing he was giving a lot away with that comment. “So you haven’t…” Drake anchored Tyler with his leg over Tyler’s hip again, his foot resting against Tyler’s ass. “I tried, once or twice. When I hadn’t heard from you in several months.” Tyler swallowed. He wished he were still facing away from Drake, didn’t have to see the intensity of those piercing emerald eyes. “I never followed through. It didn’t feel right while there was still anything between

us.” “I wish I could say the same.” Drake’s voice was heavy with guilt. “I’ve seen the pictures of you and Lyra Bates.” Drake’s co-star in the Rage movies, to hear the press tell it, she was rarely far from his side. “Lyra’s a friend. She knows the score and keeps the press from digging too deeply into my private life. I haven’t slept with a woman since I tried it once in high school.” Drake caught Tyler’s gaze, forcing him to see the truth in his words. But Drake was also the one to break their eye contact as he continued.

“But there have been others. Guys on the set, a couple pickups at a bar.” “While we were together?” Tyler couldn’t keep the betrayal from his voice. It had been easier to think that Drake was sleeping with dozens of starlets than to hear that he’d been hooking up with other men. “You mean three years ago? No, never. But since we broke up, yeah. Sometimes I just couldn’t live with the lie, and I needed to let it out.” “I thought that’s why you showed up at my door.” But Tyler knew Drake had a voracious sex drive, and if he wasn’t

sleeping with Lyra or any other women, there was no way he’d gone without for months at a time. That didn’t stop him from being hurt by Drake’s confession. “You left me because your agent and publicist said nobody wanted a gay sex symbol, that you needed to play it straight if you wanted the role of Rage.” Tyler swallowed hard. “But you’ve been screwing other men—” “It was risky and stupid. And maybe part of me wanted to get caught, to put an end to this farce. But I know what you’re thinking, and no, we couldn’t have stayed together. Marty said we’d get

caught, and he was right. It’s one thing for me to come visit my best friend on vacation once or twice a year. It would’ve been another if we were always together, sharing a house. The paparazzi would’ve outed me. More important, though, can you honestly say you’d have been happy living in the closet?” The mood shattered. “Don’t you dare say you did this for me! This has always been about you. I could accept that you wanted more than just what I could give you. But I also wasn’t good enough to even be a part of

it. You didn’t want me at all once something better came along.” Tyler knew he was whining and admitting thoughts he never wanted Drake to be privy to, but he couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Is that what you’ve thought all this time?” Drake rose from the bed and started pacing, thumb flying over his fingers as if keeping a tally of his thoughts. “Ty, I loved you. But what was I supposed to do? How could I walk away from that role? You think you weren’t good enough, but it was just the opposite. What would I have done when

you got tired of me being a beach bum, Doc? You put yourself through college and have a PhD in marine biology. I was so busy fucking around, I barely made it through high school.” Tyler rose and began pacing in the small bit of space on his side of the bed. Ty had never told Drake just how badly he’d coped in the year between Drake walking away on Oahu and waltzing back into Ty’s life again a year later. He certainly didn’t want to expose his weakness now. “That was never an issue for me, and you know it. You’re one of the smartest people I know.” He walked

up into Drake’s space, chest-to-chest. “And if you were worried about it, how come you never asked? You just thought it all through in your head and came to your own conclusions. Just like when you were offered the role. You didn’t ask if I’d be willing to stick with you. No, you just announced one night that you got the role, that it wasn’t going to work between us, and then took off for LA the next morning.” “Because I knew it was the only way!” Drake pulled his long hair in his fist. “I know what happened to you when your father found out you were gay. I

know how hard you fought to get to where you are, what you had to do to make it happen.” Tyler flushed. He hated Drake knowing about his time on the streets, hated himself for having told Drake about it, what he’d done to survive. He’d thought Drake would understand, given his own parents had reacted only marginally better—not physically beating the shit out of him and kicking him out in the dead of winter as Tyler’s father had, but battering him verbally with their scorn and disgust until Drake left of his own accord. But much as

Drake might deny it, he’d never looked at him the same way after Tyler’s tearful confession. And why would you give up a life-changing career opportunity for someone who had spent time on his knees in exchange for a warm place to sleep? Drake continued. “After you paid such a steep price to come out of the closet, it wouldn’t have been fair to ask you to hide in it again.” “I wouldn’t. But I didn’t need to be queen of the Pride parade, either. We could’ve just lived our own quiet life. Out to the people we trusted. So I

wouldn’t have gone with you to the premieres and shit. That kind of attention’s your bag, not mine, anyways.” “Bullshit! With your self-righteous sense of honor, there’s no way you would’ve been happy on the down low.” “Happy with the situation? No. But I was happy with you. And for that, I’d have tried. Instead of asking if I could handle it, instead of even trying to work it out, you dumped me and ran.” And instead of moving on, Ty kept letting Drake come back for another taste, just to be abandoned again. And again. “It’s easy to say that now, but I don’t

think you’d have been so willing back then.” “Well, neither of us will ever know now, will we?”

4

There hadn’t been much else to say. Or

rather, there had been too much to say but Drake hadn’t been given the opportunity to say it. Tyler had hurried

into the shower and got the hell out of dodge under the pretext of needing to check on his team and the volunteers. Much as Drake knew they needed to talk more, much as he wanted to press his case and tell Tyler all that bullshit was in the past, he knew they both needed time. He kept telling himself to take it slow, but being near Tyler and realizing how close he was to losing him forever made everything so damn urgent. Now Drake was alone with his thoughts, and that never seemed to work out well for him. Pulling his dopp kit out of his bag, he headed for the small

bathroom. The scent of Tyler’s citrus shampoo lingered in the shower. He considered using it, but he wanted to smell it on his man, not on himself. Please let Tyler be his again. He couldn’t continue to do this alone. He’d craved the attention and money that came with stardom, the validation his parents had denied him when he came out to them. Acceptance they now offered as sound bites in front of the tabloid cameras because he had something they wanted. Everybody wanted something from him these days. Everyone except Ty, who was the one person to whom

he’d give everything. But Ty never asked for anything, while offering everything. And Drake selfishly took it all and kept coming back for more. These last couple months, feeling Ty pulling away, left Drake at a crossroads. He either had to set Tyler free, once and for all, to find someone who could love him better or Drake had to become that better man. Drake dressed quickly in shorts and a faded AC/DC T-shirt, sliding his feet into sandals. He needed to do a lot to win Ty back over, including admitting the fears and shortcomings surrounding

his jumping at the opportunity to take on the role of Rage, but neither he nor Ty were ready for that discussion. The first thing he could give to Ty was public acknowledgement. Starting with his team on the beach. It was time Drake took back some control in his life, for both their sakes. The five-minute walk gave him time to get nervous. And just as much time to chastise himself for it. He’d never worried about anyone knowing he was gay before Rage. As Tyler said, he’d never marched in a Pride parade; he’d just gone about his life. With his partner.

Just as he planned on doing again now, starting with the people gathered around his lover up ahead on the black sand of the beach. Tyler spotted him as he approached, and his gray eyes went wide with shock. Drake pasted on his Hollywood smile and entered the fray. “Hi, everyone.” “Oh my god!” A young woman, who couldn’t have been older than twenty, squealed. “You’re Drake Sutton. You’re nailed to my wall.” She blushed. “I mean, your poster—” Drake laughed. He was used to this reaction. “A pleasure to meet you…”

“Lizzy. I mean, Elizabeth.” Realizing the opportunity that had just fallen across her feet, Elizabeth swung her blonde hair out of her face, jutting her breasts forward. “Are you researching for a movie or something? I can tell you all about protecting the sea turtles.” Throughout Elizabeth’s awkward flirting, Drake could see Tyler giving him a cautious eye. It was the moment of truth. “No, I’m here to visit my boyfriend.” Drake congratulated himself for saying it without stumbling. He couldn’t say, though, whether Elizabeth or Tyler was

more stunned by his statement. Deciding Ty was more likely to faint, he stepped over to the other man and picked up his hand. It felt like ice, as did the glare Tyler gave him. “Hey, gang, let’s go back to the base camp so everyone can log their counts from last night.” A tall, dark-haired woman spoke up, gathering the dozen volunteers around her and leading them up the beach. She turned at the last minute and shot a look at Drake, warning of dire consequences if he blew this. The infamous and invaluable Janie, he supposed. He inclined his head in

acknowledgement. “What the hell did you just do?” Tyler asked through gritted teeth. “I just introduced myself to Elizabeth.” “Lizzy has spent half of the last two weeks on her cell phone updating her Facebook wall. She’s probably already posted what you just told her, and she hasn’t even left the beach yet.” “It’s okay.” And it was. Now that the first hurdle had been met, he felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in three years. “What the ever-loving fuck? This is

so not okay! You just outed yourself. You just outed me as your boyfriend. Marty is going to shit bricks.” “Marty already knows.” “It’s going to be a madhouse. What is everyone going to say?” Tyler stopped short. “Wait a minute. Marty knows?” “I told him what I was going to do before I came down here. It’s why I didn’t give you more notice. I couldn’t bear for you to refuse to hear me out after I put everything into play with Marty and the publicity team.” “What about your career?” “I can’t live a lie anymore. I can’t

live without you anymore. I’m not going to lose Rage anymore; they need me too much. And even if I did, the rest of the franchise would continue without me.” “Does this mean you’re done acting?” “I hope not. If Rage ends, I’m sure there’ll be other roles.” Drake put his arms around Tyler’s shoulders to stop him from pacing. “But if not, it’ll be worth it to have you back.” Tyler pulled away. Drake assumed he was overcome. He knew it was a big step, but he was so happy to have Ty in his life again.

“You asshole!” Ty pushed him so hard that even his extra three inches of height and forty pounds of muscle were no match. Drake stumbled backwards, barely catching himself from falling. “What the hell, Ty? You were supposed to be happy about this.” “Happy about what? That after putting me through three years of hell, you decided the thing you wanted even more than me is suddenly worthless?” Ty kicked the sand in Drake’s direction. “Or now that I’m somehow the shiniest planet in your orbit again, I won’t mind that you just decided we’re together

again? That I’ll be willing to stick around until the next planet is in opposition so I can be left again?” “That won’t happen this time.” “No, it won’t.” Tyler took a deep breath, and Drake could see that he was fighting for composure. “Because I can’t do this again, Drake. I can’t keep letting you put us—me— through this.” Drake panicked. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He’d stood up to Marty, the Rage producers, and now even Tyler himself. He’d put it all on the line, and it was all supposed to work out.

“Three years ago, I was so in love with you, I’d have been willing to play third wheel between you, your career, and me. But I’m three years older now, three years past you hurting me, and finally—finally—able to see how much it’s continued to hurt to have you in my life in dribs and drabs. Every time you call me ‘Doc,’ you twist the knife.” Ty paced between Drake and the tape marking the nesting grounds, seeming to fight for the right words. “I never finished my PhD, Drake. I couldn’t stay there, walking down our beach every day. You never thought to

ask why I left Oahu or why I’m working with ecotourists instead of continuing my research. You just showed up in Costa Rica after a year of radio silence, and then you left again. The following year, it was the Galapagos. Where am I going to go after you leave me this time?” Ty gave a raw chuckle. “I’m running out of beaches.”

DRAKE WAS DEVASTATED. Ty was right—in the three years since their initial breakup, Drake had never questioned the

guy’s frequent moves around the world. Had never asked to see the fancy piece of parchment Ty had worked so hard to earn. Hell, the guy had sold himself on the street after his parents cut him off, until one of his former professors spotted him at a homeless shelter and helped him get the scholarships he needed to return to college. And then he’d kept his grades high enough to earn grants and stipends to continue his postgraduate studies. “But you were only a year or so away from finishing…” He couldn’t wrap his brain around it. “Why? And

why didn’t you ever tell me?” “I didn’t meant to tell you now.” Ty shook his head, clearly chastising himself. “It’s done. And I’m happy here. I love working with Janie, and I even like most of the volunteers. I’m still doing good work, necessary work.” Much as Ty tried to put a pleasant face on it, Drake heard the recriminations in his lover’s voice. For someone whose sense of self came from his accomplishments, from rising above the nightmare his parents had dumped him into, he had to have been in a very dark place to have given up on his

doctorate. And yet, he kept letting Drake come back. “I never wanted to hurt you like that.” But he should’ve realized Ty would see their breakup as yet another abandonment, that he’d turn it on himself rather than letting Drake take all the blame. And what did it make him now, when Drake knew the full extent of the damage he’d caused his lover, and yet he still wanted another chance to get him back?

5

Ty sat under a palm tree watching the

sun set over the ocean, but the usual calm it brought eluded him. One week. The smart thing to do would’ve been to

drive Drake back to the airport as soon as Ty had admitted the full extent of how feeble he’d been in the aftermath of their relationship. But he’d proven himself nothing but stupid in the last three years, and he was apparently incapable of wising up now. He wanted so much to believe what Drake was saying. He didn’t let himself think about the time they were together very often, always needing to shore up his defenses in a vain attempt to prevent further damage to his heart. But as he glanced down the beach to where Drake handed out bottled water to the

volunteers, he remembered when Drake would show up at the turtle grounds on Sunset Beach with a cold beer and his latest cooking experiment. The beer had often been necessary to wash down a burnt egg sandwich or chicken salad that no amount of mayo could salvage. Ty chuckled at the memory. The quality of the food hadn’t mattered as much as the love behind the gesture and the hours they’d spend together on the beach after they ate, talking softly as he now did with Timothy and Lizzy. He’d had to get by on scraps of the man’s attention for three pathetic years.

Just enough of Drake to open up his heart and offer up his body again and again, hoping that after they’d gorged themselves on a banquet of sex, they’d also recapture the love. Why did Drake have to wait until Ty had finally had enough to offer him everything he’d wanted? And why was he so tempted to take it? Drake turned away from the vols with a parting wave and scanned the beach, obviously looking for Tyler. He pulled himself closer to the tree, hoping the twilight sky would keep him hidden. He needed more time to get his head on

straight. But the movement only served as a beacon, drawing Drake toward him. The breeze caught Drake’s loose hair, blowing it in front of his eyes, where he pushed it away, only to have it return as soon as he moved his hand. “You should let me cut it.” Ty called out softly. “I meant to do it before I flew down here, but I had a last-minute photoshoot.” Drake strode up to Ty’s tree. From this angle, he looked almost menacing. His character, Rage, headed up a motorcycle club that protected the good guys by beating the crap out of the bad guys.

Drake’s long hair and muscular body conveying the power the male fans bought tickets to see in action and the beauty that put their girlfriends into the seats along side them. Tyler had never watched the films—even he wasn’t that big a masochist—but he’d seen the trailers and occasional magazine cover. That guy didn’t belong on Tyler’s beach. “Does that mean I can do it?” Ty asked. Drake looked down at him as if assessing whether Ty planned on putting the scissors to his hair or his neck. “Sure. If you can leave the beach now.”

They walked back to Ty’s house in silence, each still raw from this morning’s revelations. Tyler went into his bathroom to grab his scissors, clippers, and a towel. Being underpaid and working in underserved areas generally limited his stylist options. Janie’s mother was a hairdresser who had passed along her experience to her daughter, to Ty’s current benefit. But he’d had to make do for himself in the past. And he didn’t want Janie to cut Drake’s hair. This job was all his. Another memory for when Drake left again. Because he will, he reminded

himself. When Tyler returned to the main room, Drake had stripped off his shirt. Ty took a moment to appreciate Drake’s golden tan and broad shoulders. “Sit,” he said, his voice rough. He watched as Drake pulled a chair from the table into the middle of the room. Drake remained silent, so Ty did too as he draped the towel over the man’s shoulders and began gathering his hair at the nape of his neck. “How much can I take off?” “Whatever you want to cut. You’re the one who has to look at it.” Drake

closed his eyes, a gesture of trust. For a man who made millions off his good looks, Drake had never been vain. He took care of his body because it was a tool in his acting arsenal, but he seemed just as happy in cutoffs on the beach as in a tuxedo at a premiere. Tyler finished gathering the bulk of Drake’s hair and cut near the base of the ponytail. His lips curved upward at the thought of Rage being so easily cut away from his lover. If only it were that easy. He began evening out the remaining hair, using the clippers on the sides while leaving a little extra on the top—

the better to grip during sex. If they found their way back to that at some point. Hell, who was he kidding, he knew Drake was just waiting for Tyler to say the word. And he knew he’d say it. “I was afraid.” Drake spoke so softly, Tyler almost didn’t hear him at first. “The things you’ve been through and had to overcome, they scared me.” “I shouldn’t have told you. Nobody wants a partner who’s traded a blowjob for a hamburger.” Drake twisted his head to look up at him, almost impaling himself on the scissors Ty held close to Drake’s

temple. “It wasn’t that. Your strength comes from having been to hell and back. And so do your insecurities. I’m all on the surface. There’s not much to me beyond the window dressing.” “Wait, so what are you saying?” Tyler dropped his hands to his sides, too shaky to control the scissors. Drake turned his head away, then seemed to force himself to look Tyler in the eyes. “Rage was a great career move. But it also gave me a way out. Not because I was disgusted by you,” he rushed to say, not giving Tyler another chance to interrupt. “But because I didn’t

know if I was strong enough to help you carry the burden and care for you the way you needed me to. I figured it was better for you to think I was a superficial asshole, willing to throw you aside for a role, than to let you down in a dozen other ways and have you realize how truly shallow I am in the things that really matter.” “So you acted like a shallow asshole in order to prevent me from realizing you’re a shallow asshole? Well, guess what? All you did was make me feel like the ass.” Tyler reached up to grab a fistful of his own hair, forgetting his was

holding the scissors and hitting himself in the head with them. “Dammit!” “Give me those.” Drake reached up to remove the scissors from Tyler’s grasp. He leaned forward to place them on the table, then took Tyler’s hands and pulled him in front of Drake’s chair. “I am so sorry. I should have been stronger. I didn’t realize until this week that you thought I was put off by what you went through.” “I think you should go.” Tyler forced himself to pull away from Drake’s hands. “I’ll get Janie to take you to the airport.

“Tyler, no! Please give us a chance. You can go back to school. I’ll pay for it.” Ty started to interrupt, but Drake couldn’t let the guy prevent him from trying to fix this mess so they could move beyond it. “I owe it to you.” “It’s not as easy as walking into the lab and saying I’m back. I’d have to start over.” “So do it. Start over. With your PhD, with me, with us.” “But as you said, that’s just the shallow end of the pool. I can’t undo what I did all those years ago. You can’t un-hear it. How am I supposed to trust

you again? I can’t keep wondering what’s going to take you away from me again, and what you’re going to take from me on your way out the door.” “You promised me a week.” Drake begged, “Please, Ty.” “I don’t know what difference a week will make.” “As you said, the press is probably finding out about us as we speak, thanks to Lizzy or someone else on your team. Ride it out with me. Let me show you how good it can be. Let me prove to you that it’s for real and forever this time. Give me a chance to swim out to the

deep end with you.”

OF COURSE, Drake won. But in winning, he also saw what he’d lost. The paparazzi showed up in force, his publicist’s press release and request for privacy not doing anything to appease their desire for a scoop. Volunteers who came to El Hawaii to rescue sea turtles were instead pressed into service keeping the paps from stomping all over the nesting grounds, at least until Drake hired a security team. Tyler pretended to

take it in stride, but Drake noticed the tightening of his jaw every time a camera was shoved in his face or he saw a vol trying to get their five minutes of fame by giving their much-embellished scoop on a relationship that was still conducted strictly indoors. Drake had no compunction about stating his love for Tyler Bryant, but every time he so much as reached for the other man’s hand when they were outside of the cabin, Ty stiffened and looked around like a petrified rabbit. It only took so much rejection before Drake kept his hands to himself.

They argued about the effect this would have upon Drake’s career. Where he’d have thought Ty would be thrilled at the possibility of Drake retiring from the Rage films, instead he seemed determined not to let that happen. “You’re already contracted for another two crossovers, and who knows how many others will follow. What if all of that’s in jeopardy now?” “I thought you weren’t keeping up with my work,” Drake asked. He knew it was beside the point, and he was being totally irrational, but he was grasping at straws. Tyler insisted on bringing up

every possible barrier to them getting back together. He needed a sign, any outward clue that Tyler still wanted him. All those barriers could be overcome, but only if Tyler was willing to try. “I’m surprised they don’t write that shit in the sky. Everybody knows about your movies.” Janie and Rick, one of the other members of Tyler’s small permanent team, did their best to keep Ty focused on the job. While the volunteers were on an ecologically friendly vacation, this was work for Ty and his team. Days were spent rehabilitating sick turtles and

logging data in their base camp and clinic, evenings on the beach observing the turtles burying their nests and making the slow journey across the sand back into the ocean. Keeping to his promise to be present for Ty and commit openly to their relationship, Drake took to accompanying him to work, serving as an extra pair of hands in much the same way he had back in Oahu. Drake had gotten used to people being starstruck by him, making him wary of the motive behind new friendships. He didn’t have to worry in the case of Janie and Rick, as they made

it clear they were Team Tyler, in no hurry to warm up to him. He supposed he deserved that from the two people who were obviously closest in the world to Ty. A spot that used to be his. Ty held him at arm’s length everywhere except in bed. There, he couldn’t get enough, more insatiable than Drake himself. At first, Drake thought it was a sign they were going to get through this, that once the peripheral din from the photogs, his fans, and the industry died down—and it would eventually—they’d be solid. It took a few days for him to realize Ty wasn’t

building a new foundation for their relationship. He was saying good-bye. And with his new insight, Drake saw what their prolonged farewell was doing to his lover. Drake looked over at Ty, gloriously naked as they ostensibly took a siesta in the lull between a day at the base camp and a long night on the beach. They’d only made it as far as the ratty couch before stripping off each other’s clothes and blowing each other mindless. But now Ty had retreated to a corner of the sofa, knees up and arms wrapped around himself, cupping the back of his neck.

Walling himself off. “Can we go for a drive? I want to enjoy the sunset without it making the front page of the tabloids.” Drake couldn’t say what he had to say here in the cabin, where the scent of their lovemaking permeated the room. Where he’d taken a chance at laying it all on the line for Ty, and now realized it was too little, too late. Ty looked up at him, startled out of his own thoughts. He pulled his arms tighter around himself, then nodded and rose to start pulling on clothing. They managed to dodge the press

simply with the element of surprise. They’d fallen into a routine throughout the week, and getting into the jeep hadn’t been a part of that. By the time the paps realized what was happening, Ty had the car in gear and was racing down the road. Drake’s thumb and fingers skidded over each other in an endless rhythm. Several times, he started to say something, but he couldn’t get the words out. Ty seemed to understand this was more than just a sightseeing opportunity —and he never had been one for filling the silence. Ty did just fine in his own

head, whereas Drake needed distraction from his thoughts. No, he only needed Ty, and that was going to make the next part of this drive so fucking hard. A good half hour away, far enough they could hope the paparazzi would have given up and returned to the beach to catch up with the guys later, Ty pulled the car off the road and they got out. The sun was starting to kiss the horizon. Just like their walks in Oahu, like that final night when Drake had torn their relationship apart because he hadn’t valued what was already in hand. “I really meant to take this slow, to

show you I’ve changed, that I know what’s really important now. And that’s you.” Drake’s voice quavered. “But you’ve changed, too. You told me you were ready to move on. I thought you meant you were ready to find someone else, and I figured I could fight that battle and win. But it’s more than another guy. You’ve made a life here. You’ve found ways to work with the locals so they don’t sell off the turtles from the beach and don’t resent you for stopping them. Janie and Rick love and respect the hell out of you. The vols are all crazy about you, and half of them are

in love with you. That guy Tim would be yours for the taking, you know. You no longer need to be needed by me, because there’s so much more to you than that.” Drake looked out over the ocean, blinking back tears. “There always has been, but now you finally see what I’ve known for years. I took advantage of your blindness to your own gifts, and I’m so sorry for that. I want you to know that I’m happy for you and proud of you.” “This sounds like good-bye.” “It is,” Drake whispered. “It’s time for me to let go. All this time, I’ve let you believe you were the needy one in

this relationship. But I’m the one who couldn’t walk away, who kept coming back and prevented you from moving on. Dammit, I kept you from getting your PhD.” Drake didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. “And all while I hid you away and refused to admit publicly that I’m gay, much less in love with the most amazing man I’ve ever met. But if I truly love you, I can’t continue doing that to you.” Ty pulled away, and Drake’s heart cracked, but he let him go. Ty stared out at the horizon for several minutes, watching the sky turn colors as the sun

set. For once, Drake couldn’t think of anything to break the silence. Instead, he just watched his lover, noticing the twoday stubble on his cheeks, the way the breeze rustled his hair and carried the scent of Ty’s citrus shampoo, the way his chest heaved and his hands opened and closed into fists. Was he relieved that it was finally over, or was there maybe a small part of him that had still hoped for more? “Do you?” Tyler asked. “Do you love me?” “Always.” And in that moment, Drake realized those were the words Ty

had been waiting to hear. Unable to keep his distance, Drake reached for Tyler and pressed his chin to the other man’s forehead. He no longer attempted to prevent his tears, and they rolled down his cheeks into Ty’s hair. “I love you, Ty.” “Then don’t let go,” Ty said softly, wrapping his arms around Drake’s neck to pull his head down lower. Their tears comingled as Ty’s lips touched his. He pulled back and cupped Drake’s chin, looking deep into his eyes. “You’re right that I don’t need you to need me. But I love you, and I want us to be together. I

can’t hide anymore, but if you’re really ready for this, I’ll be right by your side for the fallout.” “You’ll be down here with your turtles. If we’re going to make this work, we’ll need to figure out logistics.” Drake knew this would be a challenge, but as he figured, they’d essentially had an acrimonious long-distance relationship for the last three years. It had to be easier when they weren’t both fighting their feelings for each other. “Consider the logistics figured,” Ty said. He stepped out of Drake’s arms and walked toward the battered jeep,

leaning in the open passenger window to reach for the glove box. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Drake. “Parridge Wildlife Conservancy?” Drake looked at the return address. “In Santa Barbara.” Tyler’s smile gave things away before Drake could pull the letter out of the envelope. “They offered me a job coordinating research studies around the world. I’d still have to travel a bit, but I’d be based in SoCal and wouldn’t have to live on-site for long periods of time.” “When do you start?” Drake spoke carefully, for once afraid to leap into

excitement too quickly. “I got the offer a couple weeks ago, but I haven’t given them an answer yet.” Tyler looked deep into Drake’s eyes. “I didn’t know if I could be that close to you and not have you.” “And now?” “Now the only question is how I’m going to get my new job done if I’m busy having you again and again.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank Cherie Noel for providing the impetus to write this story. Thanks also to K.A. Mitchell, Felice Stevens, Taryn Elliott, Cari Quinn, and

Katy Miller for their encouragement and advice. And, of course, I wouldn’t have time to write anything without the support of my family. I love you all.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jenna Kendrick writes male/male new adult and contemporary romance in Upstate New York, where she spends the better part of the year trying to stay warm and dry. When she’s not writing, she reads, watches The Princess Bride and The Avengers far too often, and drinks more coffee and tea than she’d care to admit. She shares her home office with her

dog, Tally, and her cats, Loki and Tamiris. Jenna spent most of her class time in high school writing bad poetry and short stories in which her teachers were the villains. She began writing in earnest in college, putting it aside for a few years to work as a teacher and product manager for several online services. In addition to writing fiction, Jenna writes nonfiction technical books under another name. Jenna loves to hear from her readers! @jennakendauth JennaKendrickAuthor www.jennakendrick.com

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