26. Taylor

Taylor

M y mouth opens, but I close it, feeling like I swallowed sandpaper.

Everyone's attention is on me, but Huckslee's dark eyes are the only ones I see, boring down into mine with such force that I find myself moving closer.

This answer should be easy. I've thought about it constantly over the last four years, a subject I've broached with Doctor Hart numerous times. Being out of small-town Utah and free from my father's bullshit helped.

But I've never...put it into words before. Like, out loud. Given my feelings a name.

"Answer the question, Taylor," Huckslee snaps, causing Salem to glare at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"Leave him alone!"

Why does he want to know so bad ?

"No, he needs to answer." My stepbrother's gaze is like a black hole, swallowing me in. "I didn't get a choice in coming out, so why should he?"

Ah . So that's it. Revenge.

Sitting back on my heels, my shoulders slump as I stare at the floor. "I don't…I don't know."

He turns away, his scoff like a knife to the chest.

"I don't have a lot of experience, okay? I've only ever been with one guy, and he's the only one I've ever...felt like that with. The only guy I've ever thought about in that way, so I don't know if bi is the right word for it?" Breaking off with a frown, I bite my lip. "Either way, I don't think I need to put a name to it. I just am."

Huck is watching me, but I can't look at him. Instead, I turn to Logan, who's looking at Salem with a mixture of longing and sorrow.

"Your turn."

Logan swallows, pausing a moment before hanging his head. "Look, I do love her, okay? It's just that we've never... I've never had sex, much less made love."

My shocked gaze bounces between them, and Huckslee does the same. Like, I'm really not one to judge because other people's relationships aren't my business, but I can't fathom it. The fact that they've been together for two years, even live together, and haven't even fucked?

"Why?" Huck finally asks, just as flabbergasted as I am.

Salem downs the rest of her wine before climbing to her feet. "Because I don't want to get married!"

Next thing I know, she's stomping up the stairs with tears on her cheeks, and Logan is brokenly watching her go. The urge to console her is strong, but that's not my place right now, so I duck my head until Logan's watery gaze meets mine. "You better go after her."

And he does. He's up in the loft within minutes, playing music, so we can't hear their conversation. Huck and I kneel there for a moment, avoiding each other's gazes, and he slowly starts to collect the cards with his head bent.

"You wanna keep playing?" He asks.

We could. It would be an excellent way to ‘bridge the gap' as Salem puts it, and open up some form of communication. But I really don't want to know about his sex life, and I doubt he wants to hear about mine.

"I'm out of hot chocolate," I find myself saying, scooping up everyone's cups. "And it's getting late. We should probably clean up."

He only nods, silently putting the cards back into the box. One of them catches his eye, though, and he pauses momentarily as he stares at it.

I quickly wash the cups at the sink before drying them and placing them on the rack. When I turn around, Huckslee is still kneeling, bent over that one card.

"One more question," he says slowly, turning it over in his hand, "then we can put the game away."

Rising from a crouch, he thoughtfully brings the card over to the sink, grabbing two glasses before filling them with water. After setting them in front of us, he lifts the card to read it.

"Never have I ever been in love."

His eyes meet mine, a starry night against snow-capped mountains. He doesn't make a move toward his drink.

But I do .

Holding his gaze, I pick up my glass and drain its contents before placing it in the sink.

Neither of us looks away from the other. I don't think he's breathing. For all he knows, I could be drinking for Salem or any other girl I've dated over the years, but I know I'm not.

And I make sure that he knows it, too, by how I look at him.

Realizing I was in love with Huckslee wasn't as earth-shattering as the books and movies make it out to be. I kind of always knew in the back of my mind. That's why I couldn't seem to stay away from him. I just never thought he felt the same, especially after the way I treated him. At least, until he punched me out for kissing Logan, and then hope pulsed to life inside this cold, dead heart.

His eyes zero in on my lip, where it's caught between my teeth, and he leans in slightly. My breath is trapped inside my lungs, little flutters of emotion flipping around in my stomach. Just when I think he's going to press those soft, full lips against mine...he spins around, grabs his bag, and enters the bathroom before shutting the door tightly. Sliding the lock into place.

Dazedly, I blink at his full glass, feeling my heart race. A numbness spreads over me, moving my limbs mechanically as I wash out the glasses before grabbing my own bag to change into sweats. Huckslee doesn't emerge until I've settled on the floor before the fire, a blanket beneath me while one covers my body. I also laid a few for him on the sofa with a pillow from the closet.

"Thank you," he murmurs, lying down, but I don't respond. Instead, I'm listening to the music still playing softly from upstairs, staring into the flames, reliving all my worst moments .

Like all of the times my dad laid hands on me, and I was so desperate to replace the memories of his fists with someone else's. Anyone else's. And then Huck saw my bruises for the first time in the locker room after ninth-grade football practice.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Crap. I already know who it is before I turn around, his voice being the first sound I listen for in the halls. Should have checked better, but I thought everyone had left ready.

Bunching up my face, I glance over my shoulder at him and glare. "What do you want, Fuckslee?"

His big brown eyes are wide as he takes in my bare back. "What happened to you? Are those fingerprints?"

Shit. No, no, no.

He's gonna tell. I just know it. And then Dad and my bike will be gone. I'll get sent somewhere far away, and I'll never see Christian again.

No, no, no no

I can't let him. So I spout off the first thing that comes to my head.

"Are you checking me out, dude?! In the locker room?"

His face goes white, and his lips part as he stammers. "N-no, I wasn't! I j-just thought-"

Something twists in my stomach at seeing him out of sorts. It makes me feel icky, like I want to stop his stuttering and take it back, but I can't. And it makes me angry.

So I throw out my fist, connecting it with his stomach, causing him to double over and groan. But the sick feeling doesn't go away. It just worsens .

"Don't let me catch you ever looking at me in the locker room again," I snarl close to his head, but before I know what's happening, he's knocked me onto my back. Pain erupts as he hits me once, twice, right in the sides. And then he's glaring down at me, calling me an asshole before storming off. I decide to lay here for a while, breathing through the aches on my body and in my chest. I feel bad.

But at least if Huck goes to a teacher and tells them what he saw, I can blame the bruises on him.

Even if I kind of hate myself for hurting him.

A deep sigh from the couch draws me out of my head.

"I can tell you're awake," Huck grumbles, "and it's keeping me awake. Go to sleep, Taylor."

With a hum, I draw my blanket tighter around me. "How can you tell?"

He's silent for a moment. "Your thoughts are basically screaming."

"What are they saying?" I whisper, stomach quivering.

For a moment, I don't think he hears me.

"I don't know what they're saying," he mutters, blankets rustling. "I never know what's going on inside your head."

Yeah, Old Taylor was a mess at explaining his feelings. But slightly jaded, sober Taylor, who's been in therapy for years, has formed healthier habits—well, healthy-ish.

So I flip around to find Huck's eyes wide open, on his side facing me. "I can tell you if you like?"

He blinks. "Not interested."

Yeah, I bet.

"Well, I need to say it," I swallow, keeping my gaze on him. "Huckslee, I'm sorry. "

"I said I'm not interested." His face hardens, lips curling into a snarl. "I don't want to hear it, Taylor."

"Maybe you need to."

He growls angrily, rolling over. "I don't need to do shit. Leave me alone."

For a second, I just stare at him, feeling hollow.

I've offered him an olive branch, not for the first time, and it feels like he keeps shutting me down. You'd think I'd take the hint. Move on, let him go, realize he can't feel anything for me after our past. But hope still burns inside me, and I refuse to let it die. I can't . Not when there are so many things unknown and unspoken between us. Because not only does he deserve closure, but so do I, dammit.

I fucking deserve closure.

" No ." I'm up off the floor instantly, standing above the sofa. "No, you don't get to shut me out."

He turns over onto his back and yelps in surprise when I climb on top of him, straddling my legs on either side of his hard stomach. Pinning his arms to his sides, I glare at his shell-shocked expression.

"You're going to listen to me, Huckslee, whether you like it or not."

"Get the fuck off!" He tries to squirm beneath me but freezes when he realizes the movement puts his dick right at my ass. It has my cock twitching, but I ignore it because that's not the head I want to think with right now. He has no choice but to sit still, and he knows it, so he presses his face into the pillow as his lids squeeze shut.

"Close your eyes all you want, baby, but you can't close your ears, so just fucking listen," I breathe fiercely, reveling in the way those dark starry eyes pop wide open. "The things I did to you in high school were wrong, and I'm so fucking sorry. I know saying it won't make a difference, it won't change anything that happened, but–"

He cuts me off with a snarl. "Then why say it at all?"

"Because your feelings fucking mattered, Huckslee, and I played with them like they didn't."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," I shake my head, licking my lips. "It's supposed to make you feel however you feel. And whatever that is, it matters, and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like it didn't. I hurt you in ways I'll never be able to mend. And I need you to know I acknowledge what I did to you."

"Got it, thanks." He tries to shift under me again, but it only worsens his position. "Now get off."

"I'm not done."

He scoffs, eyes as black as night. "What is this? Some kind of forced therapy type shit? If you're waiting for forgiveness, Taylor, you'll be six feet under before that ever happens–"

Dropping his gaze, his breath hitches, and I follow his attention to where it rests on my hard dick poking into his solid six-pack through my sweats.

Oops.

Okay, maybe sitting on him wasn't the best idea for this conversation. Especially when he's shirtless and my hands are wrapped around his thick biceps, dusky pink nipples teasing me for a bite. He's so much broader than he was before, and fuck, he feels good under me. But this isn't what I crawled on top of him for .

"My eyes are up here," I smirk, biting my lip when his gaze shoots up to mine, pulse pounding on the side of his throat. I can feel his heartbeat through my thighs. Taking a deep breath, I lean forward to get closer to his face. "Huck, I never hated you. In fact, I really fucking liked you, okay? Like a lot. Remember when I explained all of this at the track?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah. You fucked with me because you didn't want to lose your bike."

"There's more to it, though." I wince, contemplating how much I'm willing to tell him. "My home life was...shitty. I've told you my dad was an asshole. He wasn't good to me, smacked me around sometimes. That morning in your bed, after the pool, remember when I couldn't–"

"Please stop," he rasps, and I peek up at him from under my lashes to find his face contorted in pain. "I don't want to think about that."

His cock swelling against my ass tells a different story, but I also know that sometimes the mind and body don't always agree.

"I wanted you to touch me, Huck," I whisper, fighting every urge right now to grind against him. "But all I could hear was his voice in my head, spouting his bullshit. It fucked me up."

He twitches beneath me, battling urges of his own. "And that day in the shower?"

"Same thing." I pause, pursing my lips. "I was also on shrooms, though, so I was tripping balls."

His abs clench with a small, husky laugh, and Jesus, it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. The thick column of his throat flexes as he swallows, eyes bouncing between mine.

"What do you hear in your head now? "

Tilting my head to listen, dark hair falls into my eyes as I give in and roll my hips over his stiff length. "Just you, Huckslee."

A hushed gasp leaves his lips, followed by that low moan I've heard in my dreams as he bucks off the couch, pressing his stiff cock into the crease of my ass.

God, I want to feel him. To taste his lips again and feel his cock pulse in my hands, explore his body properly with my tongue. But I can't start down that road without talking to him about prom. I just can't. It doesn't feel right. Because I want him, and I know he can't give himself fully without coming to terms with what happened. Forgiveness or not.

So I lift off him, biting my lip to stifle a smile at his whine. "I still have more to say."

"Fucking hell, Tay." He draws a ragged breath, hips moving yearningly against the couch in a way that kills me. "Can't it wait until later?"

I fucking wish.

"No. Because if I go any further without saying this to you, I'd be such a selfish asshole, and I'm trying not to be that person anymore."

Keyword: trying .

Huck goes still, eyes growing cautious as his brows pinch together.

"Okay," he says slowly, waiting.

Licking my lips nervously, I brace myself. "We need to talk about prom."

He goes rigid beneath me, face immediately hardening, and I almost physically feel the wall he slams up between us. "No. Hard fucking no, I'm not talking about that. "

"We need to get it out, Huck."

"Get it out?" He curls his lip incredulously. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Get what out?"

"This shit between us!" I almost shout, starting to feel frustrated. "It's fucking toxic, man. Poison. It's like a cancer that'll only get worse unless we talk about it–"

I realize I fucked up as soon as that word leaves my mouth.

"Shit." Releasing one of his arms, I run trembling fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, Huck, I shouldn't have put it that way. I didn't think."

"You never do." His dark eyes burn like coals as he glares up at me. "You don't care about anyone or anything else other than yourself and your bike, Taylor."

"Maybe at one time, yeah. I admit that I was a prick, but I'm trying to make up for that now."

"Bull-fucking-shit." He starts to buck again, trying to free himself from under me. "You'll always be the same, and you can go fuck yourself with your half-assed apologies."

I know he's upset because I brought up prom and cancer, but his words still sting. My legs tighten as I try to maintain my hold on him, but he uses his free arm to shove me over onto the floor, and I hit it hard . Right on my shoulder, the collar bone popping as an ache shoots down my arm.

"Goddammit," I hiss, lifting to my feet with a wince. "You know what, I'm not doing this with you. Not anymore. When you can have a conversation without getting violent, come find me."

Grabbing my blanket off the floor and wrapping it around myself like a fucking toddler, I climb the steps up to the loft where Logan and Salem are currently snuggled up .

"Scoot over. Huckslee's pissing me off."

"Seriously, Taylor," Logan grumbles groggily but shifts himself and Salem closer to the middle so I can slide in behind him.

Loud stomps come from the stairs, and suddenly, Huckslee is rounding the bed to the other side. "Nuh-uh, no way. If you three get to sleep in the bed, then so do I."

He pulls back the covers but hesitates when he realizes he'll basically be spooning Salem.

"Either get in or leave," she snaps, shivering. "It's fucking freezing."

Making a decision, he crawls in behind her, as close to the edge of the bed as he can, before pulling the blanket up. His glare meets mine over both of their heads, making me even more irritated, so I decide to make everyone uncomfortable because now I'm in a bad mood.

"If we all had a foursome, who would go where?"

"Jesus Christ." Logan burrows his face into Salem's neck while Huck curls his lip at me.

"Are you kidding me, Taylor?"

"Hypothetically, of course."

Everyone's quiet for a long moment, and I settle into my pillow, smirking when I think I've accomplished my goal. Then Salem's sleepy voice breaks the silence.

"I'd be in the back with a strap on," she mumbles, "obviously."

That gets a snort out of me.

Logan huffs in annoyance. "But who would you be fucking?"

"Huckslee. "

All three of us raise our heads off the bed in unison.

"What?"

"M-me?"

"Why the hell would you be fucking Huckslee?" I squint over at where she lays with her eyes still closed, lips pursed as she tries to fight a smile.

"Because he's the only one in this bed I haven't dated. Can I sleep now?"

I guess that's fair.

"Well, Huckslee's not fucking me ," Logan grumbles, laying his head back down, and Huck groans as he runs a hand over his red face.

"Oh my God, stop this."

Snickering, I snuggle into Logan. "I'll fuck you, princess."

"That would mean that Huckslee has to fuck you ," Salem grunts.

My eyes snap to Huck as everything goes still. When our gazes lock, it feels like the breath is knocked out of my lungs at the heat that flashes across his features before he schools his expression. Warmth pools in my lower stomach, tingling up my spine at the thought of Huckslee above me, inside me, pounding into me, owning me…

"This scenario is fucking stupid." I flip over onto my sore shoulder, deciding I'd rather deal with the pain than the embarrassment of my hard cock touching Logan's back.

"You started it, dumbass."

Yeah, I did.

And now it'll be near impossible for me to get it out of my head.