Speechless Read Online Free PDF Page B

were you guys together?”
    Drew held up five fingers.
    “Five years?” God, Travis had never lasted even five days with anyone before. Knowing that Drew was the kind of guy to make that sort of commitment didn’t really surprise him, though. And, amazingly, it didn’t scare him away.
    “Well, he was obviously a stupid dickhead,” Travis announced sincerely.
    Drew smiled and slammed the album closed. After a moment’s thought, he pointed at Travis and then at the album, eyebrows raised questioningly.
    “Okay. I’m guessing you’re not asking if I have a photo album too.” Travis squirmed a little in his seat. “You wanna know if I ever had someone serious.”
    A nod confirmed his guess.
    “I, um, haven’t. It’s not that I didn’t want…. Well, I guess it just never worked out.” God, he’d always dreaded having a Relationship Talk, and it didn’t help one bit that he was the only one talking. He scratched at his chin—he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning—and tried to avoid the gaze that was pinning him in place. He thought about changing the subject entirely. Maybe commenting on the weather, or whether the Trailblazers were going to have a good season, or had Drew caught that episode of Supernatural last week?
    Finally, Travis took a deep breath. “Look. I’m not very good at this relationship thing. But I’d really like to give it a try, if that works for you.”
    Drew’s answering smile was the best response he could have wanted.
     
     
    I T RAINED pretty much every day after that, and when it wasn’t raining, it was cold. But Travis didn’t care, because as he walked home each evening, he didn’t have to hope that Drew would be out on his steps with his guitar. Instead, Drew would be waiting for him with a smile at the open door. Sometimes Drew made him dinner—he was a pretty decent cook, better by far than Travis. Sometimes they went out. Sometimes they went over to Travis’s to eat. But no matter where they ate, they spent the evening together, and often Drew spent the night too.
    On weekends they hung out at Travis’s place or Drew’s, or they spent hours in brewpubs or coffee shops. Drew liked to haunt bookstores—luckily, his aphasia didn’t affect his ability to read. With a huge grin, he introduced Travis to the sex shop that was a block away from his favorite book emporium. Travis hadn’t really explored the area since he’d come to live there, so Drew showed him around, taking him to off-beat little neighborhoods and funky stores and even, one time only, to a basketball game. They went running together. Travis was faster, but Drew had better endurance.
    One Saturday morning—one of the few when Drew hadn’t spent the previous night—someone pounded on Travis’s door much earlier than he would have preferred. His grumpiness evaporated, however, when he saw his lover with a pink bakery box in his hands. Drew laid the box on the table, gestured at Travis to get dressed, then took a soup bowl from the cupboard and filled it with cat kibble. Scooping up the pink box, he dragged Travis out the door and motioned him into the passenger seat of his car. As Drew drove them west with a smug smile and a refusal to give even a hint where they were going, Travis made a dent in the baked goods stash, uttering satisfied noises over the maple bar with bacon.
    Two hours later they were naked in front of a roaring fire at a cozy inn, watching through the window as waves crashed and foamed on the rocks below. Travis wondered how the hell Drew managed to make reservations, but Drew must have decided he liked an air of mystery and wouldn’t divulge his secret.
    Drew had brought his guitar, and when they weren’t making love or lolling around in the afterglow, he played. Not his usual punk and grunge fare, but quieter songs. Ballads and love songs and even a few old country-western classics. Travis sang along sometimes; Drew didn’t even protest the nude, off-key, but soulful