Killian knows all about survival. He can handle the tough city streets where crime and chaos are the norm. When he finally flees to the protected community of Black Rock, he meets his match with the handsome small town cop.
Aaron is everything Killian is not. He’s only known safety, security, and the love of his family. When he tries to bring Killian into his world, he resists, unable to settle down and trust after living a life on the run.
The walls around the town are unable to protect the couple forever. Will Killian’s past threaten the new happiness he’s found with Aaron? Can the secret he carries help a world set on destroying itself?
Be Warned: m/m sex
“I like it here,” said Killian, as he made his way around the small living room. Aaron’s apartment behind the station was small, but open concept, making it feel more spacious than it was. He felt Aaron watching him from the behind the kitchen counter, the only thing separating the two rooms. He cut vegetables as Killian familiarized himself with the place.
“It’s home.” The sound of a knife slicing through crisp vegetables was the only distraction in the quiet room. There were no offensive sounds coming from the outside walls. Black Rock was a place of peace and tranquility. He didn’t feel he deserved to be here, didn’t feel as if he belonged with his background.
“Lonely?” Killian cleared his throat when the single word carried enough intimacy to weaken his knees. Did he really have so many feelings for the small-town cop? Impossible. “I mean, don’t you get lonely living all alone?”
“My work keeps me busy.” It sounded more like an excuse than an answer.
“Need help?” He’d traveled around the room a few times, trying to gauge the man behind the uniform. There were several family photos, a few trophies, and some handmade crafts he assumed were from his sisters when they were younger. A family man without a wife? It seemed odd, but this entire town was out of the ordinary.
Aaron hesitated. “Uh ... sure.” He nodded to the lower cupboard. “You can grab the large pot out of there and fill it with water for the noodles.”
Killian slipped into the narrow kitchen space and dug out the largest pot he could find. When he sidled up to Aaron at the sink, he could feel Aaron’s warmth next to him. His presence affected Killian to a degree that surprised him. He blamed it on his suppressed hormonal urges, and filled the pot with water.
Running water, clean and disease-free, was a blessing. He was tempted to dip his head under the faucet for a drink, but needed to remember his manners. Aaron was from a different world. Killian knew what was acceptable and unacceptable from his travels, television, and hearing people talk over the years. Forcing Aaron against the fridge and demanding he fuck him would definitely be frowned upon. With the cop’s apparent self-control and old-fashioned values, he would likely refuse him before throwing him into jail for indecency.
When he had the pot filled, he grabbed the handles on either side and attempted to hoist it out of the sink. It was heavy, but he could have managed. He always managed. Aaron quickly dropped his knife, and enveloped him, an arm coming around Killian from each side. Aaron replaced Killian’s hands with his own and lifted the pot up onto the counter.
He could feel Aaron’s breath, hot against his ear. His body was warm pressed to his back, his arms corded with muscle. He desperately wanted to be held. How long had it been? It must have been five years because he refused all men and women, and affection as a whole, since Xavier’s betrayal. In the few seconds that bound Killian and Aaron together, his heart and mind were awash with emotion. Guilt, fear, loneliness, and lust. He wanted to push him away, at the same time as he wanted to hold on forever. Traitorous emotions. If he held Killian a moment longer, he swore tears would fall for no apparent reason. But before any disaster could result, Aaron returned to his station in front of the cutting board.
“Don’t be afraid to ask for help. I’m right here.”
He held Killian’s gaze when he spoke. Killian’s breathing was still heavy from the intimate contact, or what he perceived as intimate. He was a fucking mess. Were his words promises, transcending the mere lifting of the pot? Only now did he realize how much energy it took to keep his guard up twenty-four-seven. He wanted to be strong, he was strong, but for once it would be nice to let it all go.