Always Together: An M/M Daddy Romance (The Boys of Talbert Hall Book 2) Read online

  Always Together

  The Boys of Talbert Hall #2

  Quinn Ward

  Copyright © 2020 by Quinn Ward

  Cover Design by Cover Me, Darling, LLC

  Editing by AG Edits

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Welcome to Annandale!

  1. Matt

  2. Brandon

  3. Brandon

  4. Matt

  5. Matt

  6. Brandon

  7. Matt

  8. Brandon

  9. Brandon

  10. Matt

  11. Matt

  12. Matt

  13. Brandon

  14. Brandon

  15. Matt

  16. Brandon

  17. Matt

  18. Brandon

  19. Brandon

  20. Matt

  Want More of Annandale?

  A Note From Quinn

  About Quinn Ward

  Welcome to Annandale!

  A group of interconnected series set in one kinky town

  The fictional town of Annandale currently has four running series. While there is overlap between the different settings, the books can be read in any order!

  Marino’s - Mama was definitely shocked to learn all of her sons were kinky in one way or another, but she’s proud of the men who are running the family restaurant.

  Club 83 - Eli’s worked hard to build a welcoming bar for the LGBTQ+ community. These daddies and boys will work their way into your kinky little heart.

  The Lodge - As Jayden so astutely pointed out, The Lodge is like a mullet: it’s innocent (enough) in the front, but the party is most definitely in the rear. So far, we’ve only seen the sweeter side, but there will definitely be a trip to The Back Deck in the future.

  Talbert Hall - Always Together is the second book set in the kinkiest residence hall on campus. It’s a known fact that those who thrive in Talbert don’t fit in well other places.

  1

  Matt

  I hated winter break. Being at school was its own level of hell, but being here, knowing I wouldn’t have Brandon sharing a room with me for the next month was beyond torture. And that was saying something because I was the shittiest friend in the world, pretending I wasn’t perving on him every time he came into our room after a shower, dropping his towel like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  “If you need anything, call me,” he said as I pulled my laptop bag out of the back seat of the car his parents had bought him for graduation. The two of us were like night and day. He was the rich kid who never wanted for anything, and I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks. He’d be welcomed home with warm hugs in the yard, while I let myself into an empty house. My mom would be home sometime after midnight, and it was unlikely we’d get to spend any time together before Christmas. “If you want to hang out, give me a call. I’m sure my parents will drive me crazy before the sun goes down.”

  “I’ll be fine, Daddy,” I quipped, immediately wishing I could call back the words. I blamed my recent porn viewing habits for the slip. Luckily, Brandon simply shook his head and smiled. He always did that.

  “I know, but I hate thinking about you being alone.” A lump formed in my throat and I had to remind my stupid heart that he didn’t mean anything by it. He was clueless to the shift I’d felt in the few months since the start of the school year. It wasn’t his fault I was crushing on him. “Seriously, call me if you want some company.”

  “I will,” I promised him. Brandon pulled me into a hug and kissed the side of my head. It would have been so damn easy to turn my head at the last second so his lips pressed against mine. But I wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t, because it would destroy almost fifteen years of friendship. “And same goes for you. If you need to get away from the nuthouse, you know you’re welcome over here. It’ll be quiet because Mom’s picking up extra shifts while they’re available.”

  My mom busted her ass to give me a good life despite the fact my sperm donor owed enough back child support to buy a nicer house than the one my grandparents bought for us when I was little. I’d argued that I could go to community college instead of heading to Annandale with Brandon, but I think she’d known I needed to be close to him. I’d lost track of how many times I’d insisted he and I were just friends, but I doubt she’d ever believed me. So, she’d stayed up late at night helping me write essays for scholarships and researching grants. Since I’d moved out, she had been driving herself into the ground to make sure I was the first in our family to graduate from college, and she was adamant I’d do so without any debt. I loved the hell out of her for that and hated that things had to be this way.

  “You know I’ll be taking you up on that. Are you and your mom coming over for Christmas?” I didn’t want to admit to him that I still hadn’t passed along his parents’ offer. When we were kids, it was almost a given that our little duo would be absorbed into his family’s holidays, but now that we were grown, it felt different. And this year would be another leap off the beaten path of familiarity because I seriously needed this next month to remind myself Brandon was my best friend and nothing more.

  “I don’t know. I’ll talk to her when I get a chance and let you know.”

  Brandon hugged me tighter. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to imagine for a split second that things were different and that his embrace meant as much to him as it did to me. “Not good enough, Matty. It won’t be Christmas if you’re not there with me.”

  Nothing would be the same without him, but I couldn’t keep putting myself into situations where I wound up dreaming of things that could never be. Eventually, he’d find a guy he could be proud to bring home to his parents and I’d have to move on without him. After that, I had no doubt we’d drift apart until we were nothing more than former classmates who exchanged awkward hellos at our high school reunions. Because I wouldn’t be able to watch him falling in love with someone else without pulverizing my own heart, so I’d have to pull away.

  “We’ll see.” As good as it felt to have him holding me, I stepped back. If I didn’t, I was going to do something stupid like let my hands drift down to his ass. “You’d better get going before your mom calls to find out if we’ve died in a horrible wreck.”

  Brandon threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. We both knew it wasn’t a joke. His mom freaked if he was more than fifteen minutes behind schedule. Brandon hugged me again, this time allowing his hands to slide over the swell of my ass. And he didn’t freak out and back away, like he realized he was groping me.

  It doesn’t mean anything, I reminded myself. Maybe I’d ask Mom if I could borrow her car one of the next few nights. There weren’t any gay bars here in town, but I could drive twenty minutes and find one that was gay enough for a hook up. Getting laid might help me extinguish the flame of desire that was stoked every time Brandon touched me.

  “Fuck, I’m gonna miss you, Matty.”

  I both loved and hated the nickname he’d refused to give up. He was careful when we were in mixed company because he thought I hated the childish version of my name, but when we were alone, it was like he couldn’t help himself.

  “It’s not like I’ll be across the country,” I reminded him, working hard to keep my tone light. “Get out of here. I have a very important date with the couch
and the remote control. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to watch anything I wanted without some jackass complaining?”

  “It’s not my fault you watch stupid shit,” Brandon protested. “Not all of us like watching cartoons all the time.”

  “Face it, you love it when I turn on cartoons,” I quipped. Brandon pulled my suitcase out of the trunk. My heart sank as I took it from him. Logically, I knew we probably wouldn’t go a full day without talking to each other, but it was setting in that he wouldn’t be across the room from me when I fell asleep for the next month. A whole fucking month. That was a long ass time. “Better than the snoozefest documentaries you’re addicted to.”

  “So sue me if I like engaging my brain.”

  “Ugh, no thank you. I get enough of that in classes,” I grumbled. We could go back and forth like this all day, and I knew damn well I was going to have to be the one to say goodbye. Brandon wouldn’t because it was his way of making sure I was going to be okay.

  Why in the hell was I infatuated with the one guy I couldn’t have?

  “Seriously, get the fuck out of here. My eyes hurt from having to look at your ugly mug.” I hefted my bag onto my shoulder, praying the strap wouldn’t give out. If I got money from my grandparents for Christmas, I should really consider being responsible and replacing it before the strap broke and my textbooks crushed my outdated computer. “Call me when the ‘rents drive you crazy. If I don’t answer, you have a key.”

  My mom would lose her damned mind if she knew we’d gone to the hardware store to have a key made for Brandon, but if she hadn’t figured it out in the past six years, I didn’t see any reason to tell her. At the time, it seemed like a good idea because Bran was at my place more than his, keeping me company and helping me with my homework while Mom was at work. There were so many nights when I’d fallen asleep watching movies with him, and he’d locked the deadbolt on his way out. Really, she should be grateful.

  “I mean it, Matty. Call me.”

  “And I mean it, I’ll be fine,” I shot back. But I wouldn’t be fine. I wouldn’t be able to breathe freely again until Brandon was in front of me and we were headed back to school. It was a sad, fucked up world I lived in.

  Sometime after the sun went down, I wandered into the kitchen to find something to eat. Fending for myself was something I’d done for a decade now, so I was good at it. And just like when she’d started working later hours and trusting me to take care of myself, I found a plastic container with a sticky note on the lid on the second shelf of the fridge.

  Sorry I’m not here for a happy homecoming. Heat this for a minute, stir, and heat again. I’ll be home by eleven.

  Love you, baby. Glad you’re home.

  “Love you too, Ma,” I said to the empty room. I pulled the note off the lid and opened one corner to allow steam to escape. When the food was done heating, I took my bowl into the living room and flopped onto the couch. After being spoiled with Brandon’s cooking at school, it was hard to choke down the bland ground beef, overcooked pasta, and canned soup concentrate Mom called a casserole, but it tasted like home. I struggled through every bite until the bowl was clean, then set it on the end table.

  The allure of being able to watch whatever the hell I wanted without anyone saying anything had worn off about an hour later, and I found myself turning on the mind-numbing series Brandon always had playing in the background while he was studying. The drone of the narrator’s voice soothed me, and wasn’t that a fucked up turn of events? I definitely needed to get my hands on a set of keys because I was depressing myself.

  “Sweetie, it’s time to go to bed.” I swatted the air and burrowed deeper under the blanket I’d draped over myself at some point. Mom laughed at me. “It’s good to know some things never change. Come on, Matt. You’re going to hurt if you fall asleep on the couch.”

  “I’m fine,” I grumbled. Or at least I was fine, until Mom felt the need to wake me. And, damn her, I’d been having the best sort of dream, too.

  Who got dream cockblocked by their mom? Me, that’s who.

  I flipped the blanket off my body and sat up, glaring at Mom for the two point three seconds it took for me to realize I was home and mom was home, and this was a really shitty way to tell her how much I appreciated her killing herself so I could get an education. “Sorry. I haven’t slept much this past week.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” she reassured me as she flopped onto the couch next to me before kicking off her shoes and propping her feet on the coffee table. If there was one thing I fucking loved about my mom, it was the fact she wasn’t hell-bent on propriety. I draped my arm over the back of the couch and Mom leaned in, resting her head on my shoulder. This was how it was supposed to be. Ever since I was little, it was me and her against the world. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take the day off. I’d put in for it, but my boss isn’t letting anyone request off during the holidays.”

  “He sounds like a total dick.”

  “She, but yes, she’s not the most understanding boss in the world.” Mom let out a frustrated sigh. She dealt with the assholes of the world so she could pay what I’d have had to take out a loan to cover. That made it my fault she was so stressed. “Don’t start with me, Matthew. If I had a problem with it, I’d say something, but there’s an end game here.”

  “I could take out loans,” I argued. Even once they took her income into account, I knew I’d be able to take out enough to cover the balance. And I wouldn’t be the only person paying off student loans for decades to come. “I don’t want you putting yourself in an early grave to prove a point.”

  “And I don’t want you having to worry when you should be paying attention to your studies.” She pulled her feet onto the couch. It wasn’t weird to me that we’d curl up like this to watch TV. It felt familiar, and I desperately needed that when I was struggling to deal with all the other shit in my life. “Now, tell me what you’ve been up to. Meet any cute boys?”

  “Mom, you know I’m trying to stay focused on school,” I grumbled. Every time we talked, she always asked about my love life. A few times, I’d nearly caved, hoping she would lecture me about how dangerous it would be to fall in love with my roommate who was also my oldest friend in the world. But knowing her, she’d only encourage me to pursue him and tell me I was an idiot for not doing so before now.

  “And Brandon? How are things with him?” Ugh. She was fishing. I hated when she did that. “Don’t look at me like that. All I’m asking is if he’s as studious as he’s always been, and if you’re driving him insane by leaving your sweaty socks and smelly clothes all over the room.”

  As a matter of fact, it had driven him crazy at first, but I really fucking liked it when he called me a good boy if I cleaned up after myself. He didn’t need to know it meant something totally different to me than it did to him. “I’m not that messy, Ma.”

  “You are, but it’s part of why we all love you.” She kissed my cheek and then picked up the remote. As she channel surfed, she said, “You can still talk to me about anything, you know that, right?”

  “Yes, Mom,” I drawled. “And if there was anything to talk about, I would. But there’s not because my life is boring as fuck. I go to class, come home and study, sleep, and do it all over again.”

  “You’re cranky when you’re tired,” she quipped. “Why don’t you head up to bed and we can talk tomorrow when I get home.”

  And just like that, I felt like a bag of dicks. She didn’t deserve my sexually frustrated bullshit. It wasn’t her fault I was falling hard for a man who had me so firmly in the friend zone there was a wall along the perimeter. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough semester but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on you. Find something to watch and I’ll go heat up your dinner.”

  I pushed her off my shoulder and stood before she could protest. It wasn’t hard to see where I got my inability to accept help from. She was stubborn and independent, and desperately in need of someone to pamper h
er. For the next month, that someone was going to be me. Taking care of everything around the house would be one way to keep my mind off of…other things.

  Friday morning—or afternoon, more like—I found a note and Mom’s keys on the counter. She’d gotten a ride to work and suggested I have some fun. When I picked up the note, two twenty-dollar bills fell to the floor.

  A good son would remember the guilt he felt over his single mom working multiple jobs to put him through school. The broke college kid whose nuts were going to explode if he didn’t break his involuntary celibacy pocketed that money, promising he’d make it up to her somehow.

  To assuage my guilt, I spent the entire afternoon making a list of shit that needed to be fixed while I was home. I’d always been the man of the house, and since my early teens, I’d been the one to tackle minor home repairs. YouTube was a godsend to struggling families and boys who were trying to prove they were men. Unfortunately, it seemed like everything had broken since the start of the school year and I wasn’t going to have much downtime.

  Around seven, I reheated some leftovers and hopped in the shower. It felt all sorts of wrong not calling Brandon to see if he wanted to go out, but it would have been counterintuitive to ask the man I needed to get out of my head to be my wingman. I wouldn’t be able to drink enough to forget the way he looked as he sauntered into our room with nothing but a towel around his waist because I had to drive, but that was okay since I hoped to find someone to help me get off. I didn’t do that shit when I was drunk.