Looking at Colby now, under the weight of all this, Jason wanted to cry. To smile. Because Colby did want him. Because Colby could still lift that chin and turn stubborn blue eyes toward the future and believe in love.
He came back over. Perched his clumsy bulk on the side of the bed. “Here.”
“Mmm. Warm. You and the coffee.” Colby surfaced from liquid bliss to beam at him. “You do know what I need. Though…I don’t suppose you meant it as erotic coffee, and we might have time to christen this room with the s*x…”
“No time, and you’re not supposed to exert yourself. Light exercise, they said.”
“Your hands could perhaps count as light…”
“No.” He set one of the hands in question on Colby’s thigh, over the sheet and borrowed sweatpants. Large and tanned and firm. And Colby wearing his clothe
