Tierney shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what Dr. Palmer said, because I talked to Marty—I’d just hung up with him when you texted—and he said it’s not unusual for people just out of rehab to put too much faith in what other people tell them.”
“That makes sense,” Dalton assured him.
Tierney barely seemed to need it; the rest of what he’d been planning to say spilled out of him. “He said it’s strongly recommended people don’t start new relationships for a while, but that I was right—it’s not, like, forbidden. And we’re already in one, so . . .”
“So it’s too late?”
Tierney missed the humor, or cared too much to play along. His fingers squeezed around Dalton’s. “He said I needed to go with my gut but keep my eyes wide open. And my gut says we should be together. I’m determined to make this work, as long as it works for both of us.” With his free hand, he combed Dalton’s bangs back and tucked them behind his ear, looking intently into his eyes as he said, “I gotta tell you, it’s really working for me.”
“Me too. Really working.” Dalton’s smile felt as inevitable as they did. “I should probably be all cautious, huh? I just can’t, not right now.”
Tierney was still in serious mode. “It might not be easy. Marty had a list of things we need to watch out for, and he suggested that when I do find a local therapist I trust, you might need to come with me once or twice. Make sure we’re on track.”
“You know I’ll go with you.”
“I do now.” Tierney gave him a single head nod. “He also said we have to be as honest as possible with each other.”
Dalton turned the tables on him, pulling his hand out of Tierney’s grasp and gripping his instead, squeezing hard enough that he could feel Tierney’s knuckles shifting. “I believe in you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Yeah?” His smile began to quirk at the corners of his lips, and now his eyes were sparking up again, lit from the inside. “Like move into my place?”
Maybe Dalton should have been expecting that, but he wasn’t prepared for it at all. He swayed closer, and could only think to say, “I haven’t even been in my new apartment a month.” That place meant freedom for him.
“I’ll pay off the lease.”
Well, that helped bring him back to earth. Dalton tilted his head and gave Tierney his flattest, you might want to rethink that look.
“Sorry.” Tierney grimaced. “I mean you can buy you out of the lease?”
“No, I can’t.” He knew Tierney didn’t mean to bring up the specters of Dalton’s past, but if honesty was going to be the basis of their relationship, he needed to begin now. “I may like to play kept boy,” he said quietly, toying with a button on Tierney’s shirt. “But I don’t ever want to be one again.” He lifted his head to catch the expression of regret on his boyfriend’s face.
“I know, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I mean, I want you there, I can’t help it.” He slumped. “I’m not good at delayed gratification, yet.”
“We can’t do it. You know that’s pushing it too far too fast.” Dalton forced himself to keep eye contact with Tierney. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but there’s still that possibility this won’t work.”
“Yeah, I’ve decided not to entertain that possibility. I’d like to encourage you to not entertain it, either.”
Dalton sighed, but he was fighting a smile too. “How about: I don’t entertain the possibility of us not working out, and you don’t revisit the moving in thing until we’re more solid.”
“Like in a couple months?”
“You’re supposed to wait a year.”
“It’s a recommendation.” He was totally whining.
“Six months,” Dalton offered.
Tierney studied him, probably trying to decide how negotiable this was. Then he nodded. “Six months.” He grinned all at once, his eyes glowing and those sexy lines fanning out from them.
Dalton’s stomach flipped over, like his roller coaster had just reached the peak of the first big hill and was now hurtling along. This was going to be an awesome ride. “Let’s go home.” He used that word deliberately, as a sort of promise to them both.
“Definitely,” Tierney said, but then leaned forward to kiss him again rather than standing up. Just before their lips met, he added, “I hear make-up sex is really hot, and I want to test that theory out with you.”
Tierney had planned operation Trick Dalton into Living with Me very carefully. Well, except for the part where he and Ian had broken the dining room table last week while scrimmaging in the condo. That had been sheer luck.
After climbing out of the wreckage, they’d stood around with Dalton and Sam, inspecting the damage in silence. Until it’d hit Tierney that he could use this to his advantage.
“Guess I should call the decorator and have her find a new one.” Nice. He’d injected just the right amount of resignation in his tone.
“If you call her, you’ll get another table just like it,” Dalton had warned. “I’ll help you find a new one.”
“If you want.” Tierney shrugged as if he didn’t care.
Now, six months to the day since he’d agreed to Dalton’s embargo on moving in together, he was driving over to pick up his boyfriend so they could go furniture shopping.
Little did Dalton know they were getting a lot more than a table.
Dalton had strong opinions on furniture design, and none of his opinions liked anything in Tierney’s condo apart from the couch. Tierney was hoping, if he filled it with furniture his boyfriend did like, the dude would want to spend more time with the furniture. Like, all his time.
Tierney didn’t see it so much as manipulating Dalton—it was more a case of ensuring they fulfilled the terms of the agreement they’d made to revisit the cohabitation question.
Pulling up to Dalton’s apartment building, he found his boyfriend waiting for him out on the sidewalk, as stunning and hot as usual. He’d butched it up a little today, with a pair of tight skinny jeans, a black leather motorcycle jacket, and black ankle boots. As he walked toward the car, Tierney watched the flex of his thighs strain the denim in the sexiest way possible. It made his blood pump extra hard, and when Dalton opened the door, the curve of his ass as he sat in the bucket seat made it pump even more, but this time with a purpose.