Somebody to Love (Tyler Jamison #1) - April Wilson Page 0,109

Ian’s house.

When I walk through my front door, into a dark and quiet condo, I’m struck by how unfamiliar it feels. I’ve spent so much time at Ian’s lately, that my own place no longer feels the same. I’ve lived here for over two decades, since graduating police academy and moving out on my own. This has been my home since then, my only home. I bought it with money I inherited from my dad when he died. And now… it feels different. Unsettling.

I walk through the condo, through the darkened living room and kitchen, flipping on lights as I go. I walk down the hallway to my bedroom and step inside. I flip on a light and open the blinds in an attempt to dispel the gloom.

I stand at the foot of my bed, with its navy blue comforter and matching pillow cases… and I’m struck by a wave of crushing anxiety. Jesus, I don’t want to be here. Not anymore. I want to be with Ian.

The place I’ve called home for so long is suddenly a dreary, lonely place. As I stare at my bed, one thing becomes crystal clear. I don’t want to sleep here again. At least not alone. My throat tightens, and my chest feels hollowed out.

My phone chimes with an incoming message, and I grab it, looking at the screen. It’s from Ian.

Had a good day with Miguel. My sister’s new bodyguard is a prick. — Ian

I smile. I can almost hear his voice. Another message comes in on the tail of the first one.

I’m starving! How about pizza for dinner? What time will you be home? — Ian

What time will I be home? Ian didn’t ask me if I wanted to come over for dinner tonight. He asked me when I was going to be home.

This condo isn’t my home anymore. My home is wherever Ian is.

I send him a quick reply.

I’ll be home in 40 minutes. Go ahead and order. — me

I grab all the clothes from my closet and pile them on the bed. I fill a duffle bag with socks, underwear, and t-shirts. I bag up my toiletries, fill a cardboard box with my books and financial records, and grab my laptop bag and my tablet. That’s it. That’s all I need. Ian has a work-out room at his place. I can use his equipment.

I manage to carry everything out to my car in just two trips. Then I empty the fridge of anything perishable and take the trash out to the dumpster.

I’m in my car and heading back across town to Ian’s house twenty-five minutes later. Despite rush-hour traffic, I make good time, pulling into Ian’s driveway just as the pizza delivery guy is backing out.

Ian waits at the door for me, holding an extra-large pizza box. “Perfect timing, man,” he says, as I step inside.

I take the box from him, carry it into the kitchen, and set it on the island counter. Then I turn to him and pull him into my arms.

He opens his mouth. “What’s—”

“I missed you like hell today.” And then I kiss the fuck out of him, like he’s oxygen, and I’m suffocating. I realize I need him, like I need air to breathe.

He kisses me back, just as hungrily. And then, smiling, he breaks our kiss. “Tyler—”

I gaze hard into his eyes. “I went to my condo after work and packed up everything important and brought it with me. It’s in the trunk of my car. This is my home now, Ian. You’re my home. Please let me stay. Don’t send me back to my empty condo because my life is here with you.”

Tears fill his eyes, and his arms go around my waist. “It’s been on my mind all day,” he says. “Wanting to ask you to move in with me.”

“Ask me.”

Laughing shakily, he cradles my face in his hands. “Would you like to move in with me?”

“Yes.”

“That was easy. I was afraid you’d say no. I thought you’d say it’s too soon, that we don’t know each other well enough.”

I cup his head and draw him close to place a tender, reverent kiss on his perfect lips. “It’s not too soon, Ian. I’ve been waiting for you for years.”

* * *

We’re sitting on the sofa in the living room, with the pizza box on the coffee table in front of us and two beer bottles. We’re watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on the massive TV screen hanging on the wall