31. Taylor

Taylor

H uckslee's entire body is stiff as a board, muscles so tense that it looks painful. His hands fist the sheets, bracing for a blow he feels I'm about to deliver.

And in a way, I guess I am.

My heart is beating rapidly in my chest, the terror in my veins still present from when I found him sitting on the ground outside the Prospector, looking gray as a ghost. Not breathing.

Fuck, I thought I killed him. Again .

Taking a shaky breath, I moisten my lips and close my eyes, needing to block out the sight of him if I'm going to get through this. Because he's here, and he's finally willing to listen to me. I'm going to tell him all of it. Even the hard parts.

"Huckslee, I've been in love with you since the eighth grade." My skin prickles under his gaze, but I keep my eyes closed. "I didn't realize it until after I crashed your car, though. But before I get to that, there's something else I need to say." Another breath. "I used to...I used to start fights with you so that I could hide the bruises from my dad. Blame it on you. In case anyone came asking, you know? Like that time freshman year. I know you think it was only my bike I cared about, but if he got caught, I knew I'd get taken away. And Maisie proved she didn't want me, so I figured they'd send me here to the city where I'd never see Christian or the guys again.

And if he found out there was even an inkling of me being interested in guys, the same thing would happen. No more motocross, no more Christian, no more anything that made life at least a little better. Looking back, it's kind of dumb because other kids had it worse. Like, all he did was break my hand once, maybe a rib a few times, but–"

"Stop that," Huckslee cuts me off fiercely, "you're downplaying. He hurt you, Taylor. It doesn't matter if it wasn't as bad as you think it could have been, it was bad enough. And it happened to you, so it matters, dammit."

A hoarse laugh leaves my dry throat. "You sound like my therapist."

"So listen to them. None of this ‘others had it worse' bullshit. Your experiences are valid. Say it."

I crack open an eye to catch him staring at me with his lips pressed into a hard line. He looks so serious. Fucking cute. I can't help it; my mouth twitches into a crooked grin.

"It's not a joke," he growls, glaring at me. "Say it right now."

"Ok, Jesus. My experiences are valid. Happy?"

"No. Continue."

God, he's so grumpy.

Huffing a laugh, I scoot closer to him, unable to stop myself from seeking comfort in his touch. His chest hitches when it collides with mine, and I close my eyes again, pressing my face into his shoulder. "Remember New Year's Eve?"

His arms tentatively come up around me, warm breath caressing my cheek. "Yes."

"I still don't remember much about what happened. Some things are blank, either from the drinking or the head injury." I frown, trying to sort through the fog in my brain as his fingers slip between the holes of my tank top, tracing my skin. "I can recall the fight with Maisie and your dad, getting kicked out. I...I stole your car because I knew it would piss you off, and you'd have to talk to me. You were kind of giving me the cold shoulder, remember?"

"Seems to be my thing," he mumbles into my hair, and shit, if that ain't the truth.

"I thought you were done with me. It drove me crazy. At the risk of sounding like a total creep, you've been my obsession since that first kiss under the bleachers, Huck. I just... couldn't have you. Couldn't even have a friendship with you because I knew I couldn't keep it that way for long, and my dad would suspect something. He noticed, man, how infatuated I was with you. But I couldn't ignore you, either. So in my fucked up brain, becoming your enemy seemed like the next best idea."

"You were such a little asshole, dude."

Groaning, I cover my face with my hands. "I know. There's really no excuse for any of it. All I can say is I joined every sport you did because I wanted to be close to you."

He pauses, and I'm glad I'm not looking at him because I can only imagine what's on his face right now. "That's...actually really sweet, in a fucked kind of way. "

"Yeah..."

"But you quit the swim team?"

"Uh," I clear my throat. "I couldn't always hide the marks. Kind of hard to do that, being shirtless all the time."

"Oh." Another pause. "Right."

"Anyway, I got off track." The soft touch of his fingertips on my ribs causes me to shiver, sending sparks down my groin. Focus . "Things had started to shift between us, and I wanted you so fucking bad. But years of mental abuse are hard to overcome, you know? We already talked about this at the...the cabin." I falter at the memory but rush forward quickly. "You weren't talking to me, so I took your car and left. Went to my dad's. I was so angry at him for fucking up my head, I started a fight, and it did not end well."

"What did he do?"

So, I tell him. As much as I can remember, anyway. His eyes watch as I touch my scar, still feeling the phantom pains of skin splitting when my face hit the bathroom sink. Lifting my shirt, I show him the mark from where they fixed the ruptured spleen. And then I tell him about the car. How I sent it careening down an incline to cover for my piece of shit father, who should be in jail right now instead of six feet under. He doesn't speak or even breathe; he just lets my words simmer between us.

"Honestly, I think it happened in the hospital," I whisper, pressing my lips to his throat, feeling raw from so much speaking and soul searching, "when you never visited. I had nothing but time on my hands while I recovered, and every thought was on my stepbrother, who thought I hated him, but the truth is that I've never hated you, Huck. I wanted you from the moment I saw you that first day in eighth grade. And it was torture, each day that passed with you not walking through the hospital room door, and I just...knew. That I loved you. But then four months passed with no contact, you started dating Royce, and it felt like my heart had ripped in two."

The featherlight circles on my skin pause as he speaks; his voice is so low I have to strain to hear. "We were...we barely even…"

"I know, we'd hardly touched at that point. Had only kissed like three times, but it was enough for me. It's fucking stupid and embarrassing, but that was all it took." A bitter laugh leaves my throat. "It doesn't take much for me, apparently. The slightest crumb of affection, and I'm a goner."

He swallows audibly. "Taylor…"

"According to Doctor Hart, it makes sense because I wasn't given a lot of it as a kid, blah blah blah, you know? She's my therapist, by the way. Nice lady. Anyway, it's not like I'm out here falling in love left and right with every person I meet. I've dated plenty of women over the last four years that I didn't love. And, of course, I love Salem in a platonic way, but...it's only you, Huckslee. It's only ever been you."

" Taylor ." His hand cups my jaw as he pulls back, head lowering, eyes trained on my mouth.

Like he's going to kiss me.

And fuck, as much as my entire being craves to taste his tongue again, I throw a hand up between us at the last minute. Firstly, because I'm not done. And secondly, because the last time I tried to kiss him, I ended up on my knees, so it's really not fair.

"I have to talk about prom."

Huck goes still, his gaze burning like fire, but he slowly lowers himself back down. "Alright."

I can feel his body vibrating through mine.

Blowing out a breath, I bury my face into his neck once again. "Not gonna lie, losing that race for the scholarship sucked pretty bad. And after the shit that happened with my dad, and you ignoring me, plus being on probation and not allowed to drink or smoke, I was kind of in a dark place. Which sounds so fucking selfish compared to where your head was at, Huck." He tries to interrupt again, but I shake my head. "It is, though. You were struggling, and you didn't even have a support system like I did. Luckily, I had Christian, Matty, Xed, and Salem to fall back on."

"I had Logan."

Lifting my head, I throw him a pointed glance. "No one knew what was going on with you, Huckslee. But I did. I knew you were pretending to be something you weren't. I called you a fucking fake , man."

"Yeah, we aren't doing that." His hand gently cups my throat. "We aren't playing the blame game. Do you know how many times I've had to hear this from Logan and our parents? My grandparents? Taylor, it wasn't anyone's fault. No one is to blame here."

"But what I did to you is," I say softly, meeting his gaze. "My actions drove you over that ledge."

He growls softly, flopping onto his back to squint at the ceiling, fists clenching. I give him a moment to gather his thoughts while I watch Baby Bones try to dig into the blankets piled at our feet .

"I think," Huck starts slowly, pausing a moment before continuing, "I think I was going to do it that night anyway, Taylor."

My attention flies to his face, breath catching at the way his eyes glitter when they connect with mine. I can't even respond, the gears spinning in my head as I try to process what he just said. In my silence, he speaks.

"I had this feeling while dancing behind that curtain with Royce…it's hard to explain, but I felt like my time had run out. Like I was at the end of the road. I'd been feeling it coming for a while, like a passenger in a speeding vehicle heading toward the barricade." He turns away from me, flattening his other cheek against the pillow. "Royce told me that night that you were in love with me. Said he could see it in your eyes, and when he looked in mine...he saw that I was in love with you, too."

The earth stops turning for a fraction of a second, my pulse slowing, everything coming to a halt as his revelation rearranges my entire existence.

"I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder after everything happened. According to my therapist, the way I was feeling at prom was my brain's way of warning me about an oncoming episode. When Royce said those words, making me realize what I felt for you, it triggered the anxiety. And when the curtain opened..."

He finally turns back toward me with a heavy gaze. "‘Panic-induced psychosis' is what the doctors said, brought on by high stress. I'd been playing Russian roulette with different meds for over six months at that point, and everything just hit me all at once. But I was already in free fall, Tay. I fully believe it would have happened that night regardless."

Everything he's saying begins to register, the weight of it all crashing over me. My mouth opens but quickly shuts, any response sounding shallow.

Anxiety disorder. Panic attacks. And I put a tarantula in his locker because I thought it would be fucking funny?

I nearly drowned him because I thought it would be hot.

The shame that's always present grows, sprouting tentacles that wrap around my heart and squeeze.

"Taylor, look at me." Huck's voice is closer than it was a moment ago, and I glance up to find him inches from my face, brows pinched together. "I told you all this to take away the guilt, not make it worse."

"Did I cause it?" I ask hoarsely, feeling dizzy. "The anxiety disorder? Was that me?"

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Well, you certainly didn't help, but no. It started after my mom died."

That should come as a relief, but it doesn't. I feel like the worst scum on the planet.

Fuck, he just admitted that he's in love with me-well, was -and all I can focus on is how I'm not worthy of it and don't deserve it.

Is love supposed to be like this? How can you claim you love someone when all you do is hurt them repeatedly?

"Hey." He covers his hand over mine where I've been massaging my shoulder. "What's up with that? I've seen you wince a few times, and you rub it a lot."

"Snapped the collarbone trying to get to you after prom," I answer absently, still working through my guilt. If I wasn't so wrapped up in my own head, I would have noticed the way he goes entirely still. I would have listened to the feeling in my gut telling me something is wrong, but instead, I focus on myself and my own misery. "I know you say I'm not to blame, but how do we know that? How do we know that the shit I put you through didn't ultimately lead to that moment?" Life is full of what-ifs. I know my regret isn't Huckslee's problem, but it's eating me alive. "Huck, how do we know–"

"What do you mean, ‘trying to get to me' ?"

He cuts me off with a biting tone, and I finally look at him, really look at him. His pupils are blown out, lips parted as his gaze frantically bounces around my face, breathing erratic. Sirens begin blaring in my brain, loud and confusing.

Danger, danger, danger.

Where, where, where?

"That night when you swallowed those pills." I frown up at him, noticing the pulse point jumping on the side of his neck. "I followed you home and had a bad feeling." Like right now . "You weren't answering the door, and I-I had to break into the bathroom. With my shoulder..."

"What? No," he shakes his head dazedly, reaching up to tug at his curls. "My dad, he's the one that found me?"

Oh.

Oh, fuck .

Licking my lips nervously, I touch his cheek, not liking the sallow color of his skin. "He got home shortly after I did. Found me in there with you, trying to..." Keep the fucking blood inside your body . "Trying to stabilize you. He's the one that called the ambulance. "

Huck's freaking out. I can see it in how his fingers tighten in his hair, knuckles white, and I reach up to disentangle them before threading them with my own. There's a glazed, sort of far-off look in his eyes. Gripping his jaw, I turn his face toward me.

"Hey, you're alright. It's alright. I've got you."

A choked sound leaves his throat like he's trying to say something, but it gets trapped inside. Just like he's trapped inside his own head right now.

"Huckslee? Baby, stay with me." I shake his shoulder, but he still doesn't acknowledge me, clearly on the verge of a major freakout.

So I do the only thing I can think of to bring him back to me.

Sliding a palm around the back of his neck, I draw us together and bring his lips to mine.

At first, it doesn't work.

His mouth is firmly shut, lips pressed together, but I keep kissing and swiping with my tongue until his jaw softens. That dazed look in his eyes fades, a slow building heat taking its place when his lips finally ease open, granting me access. And as our tongues touch for the first time in years, pulling a moan out of him, a flame inside of me flares to life.

He relaxes onto me, fingers running through my hair as he deepens the kiss, tongues tangling desperately. His teeth sink into my bottom lip as my hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt, smoothing over the stiff muscles of his back. Our hips grind together, his cock already hard and pressing into mine with a friction that sends sparks of pleasure up my spine. When his lips leave mine to trail a line of kisses down my jaw, I gasp, melting under the flame of his touch.

It's not enough. Need more.

"Taylor," he groans against my throat, nipping at my skin. "I want to feel you. Please."

Great minds think alike .

My shaking fingers fly to the buttons on his flannel between us, frantically trying to undo them. They're small, slippery, and I have no fucking patience right now, so I grip the shirt and yank it apart with a growl. Buttons go flying as it parts down the middle, and a grin cracks across Huckslee's face when my hands slide up his bare chest and down his shoulders, pushing the shirt away. His own fingers press into the holes along the side of my tank top before he rips it off my body, too, and I can't help but roll my eyes at him.

"Really? I destroy your shirt, so you destroy mine?"

"Give and take, baby." He's back against my body in an instant, our bare chests now flush as our mouths find each other again, and my stomach somersaults at the word he just called me.

Baby . I'm baby.

A giddiness envelopes me as I suck on his lips, running my nails over his skin, earning a hiss and a bite in reward. Huck's eyes are bright and present with lust, but there's still a haze in them that has me pulling back from him, unsure.

He goes still, brows wrinkling as he stares down at me, breathing heavily. "What's wrong?"

Swallowing hard, I bite my lip. "You're still drunk, Huckslee. "

A smile slowly pulls at his lips as he leans down to run his tongue along my nipple, the sensation shooting straight to my already aching cock. "Worried about taking advantage of me, Tay?"

"Uh, I mean, kinda." Not really.

He laughs, rolling the sensitive skin in between his teeth, and I moan as I rock my hips, needing to feel him everywhere. His palms run up and down my abs, forcing a yelp out of me, followed by a chuckle as I bat his hands away.

"Ticklish."

Groaning, he drags his mouth back up to mine. "I forgot about that. You know how hard it's gonna be not to touch your stomach? Your abs are sexy as fuck."

I kiss him greedily, savoring the taste like it's the last time I'll get to have it. With Huckslee, you never know when that'll be the case. He's made a habit of disappearing, and that fact alone should stop me in my tracks, but it only fuels the inferno blazing under my skin. Burning up for the man on top of me who I've denied myself for so long.

And I'm sick of fighting it. Fighting him.

So damn sick and tired that I wrap my arms around his neck and thrust up into him desperately.

"Can I..." He presses a line of soft kisses along my throat. "Can I touch you, baby?"

There's a waver in his voice that makes my heart clench, the uncertainty in it, so I take his hand and push it down to the painfully hard bulge in my jeans. "Please, Huck. I need it."

His fingers work the button expertly, popping it open to lower my zipper, releasing the pressure on my cock. He palms it over my briefs, rubbing me as he slides down to take my nipple in between his teeth again, and I buck against him, moaning, pleading for more. He grins wickedly, so fucking gorgeous with his curls tousled from my hands. As he sits up and hooks a finger into my waistband, though, the smile fades from his face when he stares down at me. Blinking.

Uh oh .

"Blondie," he whispers, lips pursing, and I follow his line of vision to my briefs, where a smear of lipstick is smudged smack in the middle of my crotch.

"We didn't—" My eyes fly to his face. "Nothing happened, Huck. I couldn't get it up. She tried, but...all I could think about was you."

And I'd been so mad about it, too.

The sight of a woman on her knees with her tits out used to get me going, but all I wanted was a pair of strong arms and sinfully dark brown eyes.

He studies me momentarily, almost pouting, before brushing his lips over my jaw. "I wasn't on a date with Royce. He's taken, we're just friends." Leaning his forehead against mine, we breathe each other in, noses touching. "I can't get you out of my head, Taylor. I haven't been able to for four years."

My tongue darts out to wet my lips, flicking his in the process. "Are we doing this, then?"

"Doing what?"

I pause. "Us."

My pulse quickens, the blood in my veins near boiling from the heat in his gaze as he looks at me. I know he wants this. I can feel it in the possessive way his fingers tighten on my hips, see it in the desire and need crossing his features. He likes the idea of it, of having me. Owning me. Even though I've been his from the start. And I want him, too. God, I want him. More than I've ever wanted anything, even motocross.

His eyes shutter, head dropping to hide himself. "Ask me again in the morning."

And then he's lowering himself down my body, placing kisses on my neck, all over my chest, running his tongue over both nipples until I'm a moaning mess beneath him, fingers in his hair. He even lightly kisses my abs, laughing when I twitch and squirm. His teeth sink into my hip, biting and sucking as he rubs my length over the material of my briefs until I can't stand it.

Hooking my thumbs into the waistband, I lift off the bed enough to push my jeans down past my ass. When my hard cock springs free, slapping against my lower stomach, his eyes go nearly black.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, voice thick, and I grin up at him as I take my length in my hands.

"Can't say I see the resemblance."

He watches me stroke myself for a moment, adjusting himself while his eyes run all over my body. "Fuck, Taylor. The pink hair, the tats, that cock...you're such a fucking dream."

His mouth practically waters at the sight of me, and it spurs me on. Sure, I've been called hot before by plenty of women. I know I'm attractive; I use it to my advantage any chance I get, but the sound of praise coming from Huck's lips is unlike anything else.

"Yeah? You like my cock?" I glance at him from under my lashes, biting my lip while I work myself, melting under his gaze.

A deep, desperate groan rumbles from his chest, watching me as he rubs himself over his pants. "I've been dying for it."

Fucking hell.

"Come get it, then." My lips curve into a challenging smirk.

Flames blaze in his eyes, burning bright, and when his fingers wrap around my length, I feel like I'll spontaneously combust. He jerks me from base to tip, swiping his thumb over the bead of precum on my slit before rubbing it into that sensitive spot beneath my crown, and I swear I see stars. His gaze holds mine as he slowly lowers, curls falling over his brow, stealing my breath when the flat of his tongue drags along the underside of my shaft, swirling around the tip. As his lips close around it, sucking me into his mouth, something between a whimper and a moan leaves me at the sight of him, at the warmth and softness as he takes me all the way to the back of his throat.

"Goddamn, Huck." I tangle my fingers into his curls, teeth working my lip to keep myself from getting too loud. "You look fucking gorgeous with my cock in your mouth."

It's everything I ever imagined, all those nights I pictured this scene playing out. He's making me feel so fucking good with his tongue that I'm thrusting my hips, abs clenching when he smiles and hollows his cheeks, deep-throating me again before popping off with a groan.

"You taste so good." His arm slips down as he palms himself, and I know the constraints of his jeans must be painful.

"Hey." Pulling him up to me, I steal a kiss. "Take it out, Huck. I want you to feel good, too. "

Shaking his head, he nibbles on my lower lip while he continues to work me with his hand. "This isn't about me, Tay. I...I took it all last time. I just want to touch you."

I rear back with a frown. "We aren't doing that anymore. It's give and take, not give or take."

Huck still looks uncertain, shuttering his eyes to watch himself jerk my cock, so I grip his chin between two fingers and force his face back up to mine. "I'm not gonna make you if you don't want to, but...I need you to feel this with me, baby. Please."

His gaze searches mine for a moment, bouncing between my eyes and mouth before he nods. "Okay. Then I have an idea."

While his hand still works me into a frenzy, he kisses me senselessly for a bit, exploring every inch of my mouth with his tongue. Biting, sucking, robbing me of breath until I'm a trembling puddle beneath him, and then he leans back to undo his belt buckle and jeans. In the absence of his hand, I grip myself, stroking up and around the crown as I watch him pull down his Calvin Klein's and free his cock.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," I moan, mouth watering at the sight of his hard length standing at attention for me, abs clenching. I remember the taste of it on my tongue, down my throat, and I want it again. But before I can get my mouth on him, Huckslee bats my hand away from my dick before lining it up with his own. He spits into his palm and then wraps his strong fingers around the both of us, stroking our cocks from root to tip in firm languid tugs that have me short-circuiting as I nearly come from the sensation .

God, it's unlike anything I've ever experienced. The feeling of us pressed together, the sight of precum dripping from his tip onto my own as he works us, the scent of his aftershave, and the moans coming out of his mouth as he leans down to bite onto my shoulder. It's too much, too many senses overloaded, every nerve in my body firing off at once as I thrust my hips to meet his pace. It feels like I'm levitating, vibrating so hard that if it weren't for Huckslee holding me in place, I'd lift through the fucking ceiling and disappear.

My fingers dig into his arms so hard that I'm probably leaving bruises, but it wouldn't be the first time I've left my marks on him. When he takes my lobe in between his teeth at the same time his free hand comes up to pinch my nipple, I'm fucking gone.

Obliterated.

Imploding as my warm cum shoots onto my chest and neck, coming so hard I have to stuff my knuckles into my mouth and bite down, strangled whines clawing up my throat.

"Holy fucking shit." Huckslee's release follows, his own cum spilling over my cock and dripping onto my abs in the sexiest waterfall I've ever seen. It coats his fingers, and he spreads the sticky mess over both of us, stroking us through our orgasms until we're wrung completely dry.

Releasing our dicks, he places a long kiss on my lips before falling over, collapsing next to me in a heap of groans. We both lie still for a second, trying to catch our breaths. A sated sigh leaves me, eyes falling closed.

I feel lighter than air and yet anchored at the same time by Huck's body pressed into my side. Warmth blooms in my chest, spreading down into my ribs, like a sense of rightness settling over my bones. When I open my eyes and turn to look at Huck, I find his lidded gaze already on me, a lopsided grin pulling at his mouth.

"What's that look for?" I smile back, moving closer for a kiss, needing to share his air.

He chuckles as he shakes his head, rubbing our lips together. "Christian was definitely right. You come loudly."

"Fuck off." A laugh bursts out of me as I study myself with raised brows. "I've never come that hard in my life."

Following my line of vision, his eyes darken as he takes in our mess of cum covering my body. The mattress shifts when he lifts to his knees, leg coming over my hips to straddle me, and I watch curiously as he leans down toward me.

His glittering gaze meets mine before his tongue darts out, running a line in the mess from my abs up to my chest. The tickling sensation doesn't even register as he brings his dripping tongue to my lips, which are already parted, and fills my mouth with our mixed tastes. The action is so unexpectedly filthy coming from Huckslee that a moan wrenches out of me, my cock nearly standing at full attention again as I suck on his tongue, swallowing every last salty drop like it's capable of sustaining me.

He breaks away to dip his head again, and then he fucking licks me clean . Every ounce of cum on my neck, chest and stomach. Laps it up like it's fucking delicious, and by the time he's done, my cock is jutting toward my belly button again, loud and proud. His wicked grin flashes before he's sucking me into his mouth once more.

"Mhmfuuck." I huff a surprised moan, running my fingers through his hair, and I'm so keyed up that it doesn't take long before I'm spilling my load a second time, only down his throat. He smacks his lips when he's done, taking in my wide, astonished expression with a bashful smile.

"I like cum," he shrugs, crawling up the bed to flop down beside me. "So what?"

"That was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me." Grabbing the back of his neck, I pull him in for a sloppy kiss. "Like, ever. Jesus fuck, Huckslee."

A chuckle vibrates his chest before he throws an arm over me and settles in, face buried into the side of my neck. My fingers trail down his bicep, tracing the hard muscles, and I tap the tattoo covering the scar on his arm that says ‘ Break The Glass .'

"I've been wondering about this."

"I got it when I first got to California," he answers after a quiet moment. "It's a quote from a Jelly Roll song, but I liked the meaning behind it. Essentially, the mirror is a barrier between our past and future. You can let it stop you from moving forward or break the glass."

Hmm. I like that.

For a long while, we just lay in each other's silence. Baby Bones is somewhere in the room making noise, chewing on something, or playing with one of her toys. Combined with Huck's breath, the sound has my heavy lids sliding shut.

Fuck, I'm tired. It's gotta be close to five or six in the morning at this point. Sleep is on the horizon, but Huck's lips move against my throat just before I doze off.

"What does this mean?" He murmurs, tracing a finger over the outline inked on my left peck .

"Uh," I cough a nervous laugh, suddenly wide awake. "You really need to study geography, Huck."

He goes still, eyelashes fluttering against my neck as he blinks. Rising up on an elbow, he squints down at me. "Did you seriously get the shape of Delaware tattooed on you?"

"Yep." My teeth sink into my lip as I fight a sheepish grin. "Right over my heart."

Those dark eyes widen as he slightly rears back, breath catching, and my stomach drops.

Shit. He hates it. It's so stupid. I should have lied and told him it was just a blank spot I was saving for something, like Lasagna's name or a tattoo for BB. Why did I say anything-

A crushing kiss drowns out every negative thought, his mouth on mine shredding every doubt. Our tongues intertwine, dancing as he gently palms my throat. It's not a kiss filled with heat or lust, but one of passion, tinged with desperation, filled with regret, and all the words we never got to say.

When we finally part, exhausted and out of breath, he places a quick kiss on my peck before pushing me onto my side. "Turn over. I want to hold you."

Strong limbs encage me, pressing my back to his chest and enveloping me in a safety that feels foreign yet familiar. His lips rest against the back of my neck, breaths stirring my hair until they even out, and that's how we fall asleep.

In each other's arms, Huckslee's hand resting over my heart.

The first thing I notice when the sun wakes me is that the bed has grown cold.

There's a vacancy inside me that wasn't there last night, a gaping void in my being where something vital should have been. When I roll over with a groan and pat the sheets next to me, I find them empty. No warmth, like I've been here alone for a while. If it weren't for the button stuck to the side of my face from ripping Huck's shirt, I would have believed that last night was a fever dream. The words he'd said when I asked him if we were doing this thing between us pop into my head.

Ask me again in the morning .

I knew he'd run. He always does. I expected it.

So why does it feel like I'm falling apart?

BB starts snorting angrily under the bed, asking for breakfast now that she knows I'm awake, and I rub my eyes with the back of my palms before sitting up. Pain shoots down my arm, collarbone popping, matching the ache that's in my chest as I swing my feet to the ground and busy myself with feeding her.

He knew. The whole time he was kissing me and giving me the best pleasure of my life, he knew he'd be gone when I woke up.

The reality burns bitterly on my tongue, still heavy with his taste .

Once again, Huckslee Davis breaks my fucking heart. And I can't even blame him because I was the idiot who gave it to him when I should have known better.

After taking a piss and grabbing a quick shower to wash the scent of him off my skin, I pad out into the kitchen.

And come to a dead halt when I see Christian sitting on the couch in silence, a cup of coffee raised halfway to his lips, sociology homework spread out next to him, an accusing glint in his eye.

He looks at me.

I look at him.

And that's about when I realize I heard no music coming from his room last night, but I was too caught up in Huck to notice.

Ah, fuck.

"How much did you hear?" I grit through my teeth, scrubbing my face.

His gaze narrows as he takes a loud sip. "Caught the whole show plus the after-credit scene." He pauses. "Unwillingly, I might add."

"Fucking great."

Turning my back to hide my red cheeks, I grab a mug from the cupboard and pop a pod in the coffee maker before searching for some breakfast. He stays silent while I busy myself, the constant slurping from his cup grating on my nerves. Only when I have a plate of toaster strudels and some caffeine do I turn around .

"So tell me," he starts slowly, scooting over to make room on the couch as I flop down, "how long have you been fucking your stepbrother?"

Oh, my god.