Free The House on Hancock Hill by Indra Vaughn Page A

knives bit me in the face.
    “I know, I know. Here.” Henry shrugged into his coat, tugged a pair of gloves out of his pocket, and gave them to me. “At least get these on before your fingers fall off. Come on.”
    Together, we battled the wind shear, sometimes so sharp I nearly got blown over, and Henry had to steady me. It was so awful, I couldn’t see half the time, and I was glad Henry knew where he was going. Halfway there, I was shivering so badly it hurt my bones, and Henry wrapped an arm around my shoulders to hold off the worst of the wind.
    “I really truly hate the cold,” I mumbled through chattering teeth as we stumbled through his front door. Henry made me take off my shoes and guided me straight up the stairs. Outside the wind howled at the house, sending a baleful noise through the chimney. Henry bent down to stoke up the flames as I took off my thin coat. He saw me hesitate.
    “Go on, get into bed. You’ll be warmer without those jeans on,” Henry said, pulling his coat off.
    “Will you get in too? Don’t sleep on the floor. I promise I won’t make any attempts on your virtue.” Henry rolled his eyes at me, but I saw him grin.
    “Just get in the bed before I toss you in there,” he growled, and maybe I was going to have to rethink my stance on his virtue. Henry stripped down to his underwear, and I quickly did the same. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look up since I was already valiantly trying not to think in terms of hot and blooded. Henry lifted his corner of the sheets, so I crawled under mine.
    Making some sweet, mind-melting noises, Henry got comfortable under the covers. His body radiated heat, and I startled when his ankle accidentally grazed mine. Instead of pulling away from me like I expected, he chuckled into his pillow. Not a homophobe, then.
    “Am I on your side of the bed?” I asked. “Because we can swap.”
    “I sleep in the middle,” Henry said, and I laughed. As if to prove a point, Henry did shift closer, and I felt my mouth go dry.
    “Just don’t kick my ribs. That’s all I’m asking.” A lame excuse if there ever was one, but Henry stayed where he was, so I’d take it. The pleasure of his body heat had made me half-hard already, and if he came any closer, he might find out.
    My fingers and toes had begun to warm up, which meant excruciating pins and needles. I concentrated on lying still and willing my erection down. The fire cast pleasant shadows around the room, and I found myself awake, watching them on the ceiling. Beside me, Henry breathed deeply and evenly, but I didn’t think he was asleep. “Henry?” I whispered.
    “Hmm.”
    “Thank you for coming to check on me. And for letting me stay.”
    “Of course,” he said, like that was all there was to it. And maybe that was true. Henry wouldn’t let anyone go cold up in that apartment if he could help it. He went quiet again, and I’d closed my eyes, thinking he’d fallen asleep, when he said, “I wasn’t bothered by the fact that you’re gay. Earlier, I mean. If that’s what you thought.”
    My eyes snapped open again. A spark crackled in the fireplace. “Okay….”
    “Was it?”
    “Uh, yeah. I did get the impression it bothered you a bit.”
    “Well, it doesn’t.”
    “Okay,” I said again, fighting a smile in the dark. Knowing Henry didn’t care made me let go of the tension that was making me shiver from more than just cold. I thought of something. “So were you really going to tell me what you and Johnny fought about, or was that just an excuse to leave Annie’s?”
    Henry hesitated, and I could feel him shift. I turned my head and saw he was lying on his side watching me. “Not exactly.” His eyes were huge and dark in the firelight, orange flames throwing odd reliefs all over the stretch of his body.
    “Then what was it?”
    Outside, the wind howled and we both froze, holding our breath as we heard a tree branch come down with a loud, mournful groan. When no