Nine

Nic

I 've always known about Cade's obsession with Liam. Liam, the baseball player, the happy-go-lucky jock who couldn't give a fuck less about… anything. Girls, the gym, and baseball. Baby was right. Pretty but not the sharpest tool in the shed .

He's not dumb. Clueless maybe. There were a lot of moments where I could see Cade's longing when they were together. He'd stare at his best friend and look so dejected, and Liam never once noticed. Not that Cade let him.

I didn't have any expectations, but I'm not surprised that nothing has changed. But how fucking hopeless could he be? The guy has a boyfriend. Move on.

And Baby was right. He's a big dude, Sebastian. Easily the tallest person in the room—even with Logan there—and looked pissed off at seemingly nothing unless Liam was looking at him. I could so see him punching Cade in the face.

Fuck, sometimes I want to punch him in the face. Watching him pathetically pine over a person who had his arms wrapped around some other guy—I wanted to hit him just to knock some sense into him. Idiot.

How does one go from saying my name while coming to pining over someone else not even twenty-four hours later?

I brush my teeth aggressively until I realize I'm being stupid. I don't know why I'm so upset anyway. Fuck him. And Liam. And Sebastian. And he didn't do much, but fuck Logan too.

Baby's the only tolerable person in the apartment at the moment.

Even I'm getting on my nerves.

I spit in the sink and the sight of dried toothpaste has me close to fuming. He is the actual worst. Uncivilized. How hard is it to rinse the sink when you're done?

I grab his face towel off the rack to clean his mess up and then try to hurry and get dressed only to hiss when the fabric drags over the top of my left leg.

Sitting on the ground stretched my muscles, leaving my thighs burning about halfway through the movie. I didn't even move to try and fix it, too worried Cade would once again mother hen the fuck out of me in front of his friends.

The scarring isn't the worst. I didn't use the same methods as a lot of people and it wasn't that long before I was found out anyway. But when they hurt, it's never one type of pain. There's a strain from the way the skin pulls, the scar tissue pulling too tight to even allow a proper stretch. There's a dull ache that goes deep, and at times, it feels like the most painful, the most unmanageable because it goes too deep for any of the topical treatments to work. That one kind of sneaks up on me at times.

But the worst of it is the burning. It makes the skin hot to the touch, and no amount of rubbing it with anything fixes it. It's shallow and makes my skin itch, but it can't be scratched because that only makes it worse. And this kind of pain does not sneak up. It demands attention. It's kind of ironic—that same sensation used to calm me, and now it only drives me crazy.

But like it did back then, it does take my mind off of other things.

I breathe through it for a few seconds as I debate going back out there to get some ice. But I don't want all of them to look at me. So I pull my sweats up the rest of the way, accepting that there's no real solution. The ice wouldn't help much either way. I just need to lie down and, hopefully, sleep through it.

Only as soon as I open the door my plans are shattered. I get a full view of Cade's bare ass as he digs around his drawer, and I'm pissed off all over again.

"Can you not?"

He doesn't even have the decency to try to cover up or look embarrassed that I caught him naked. He just stays doing what he's doing—probably dragging it out just to fuck with me. As I think about last night, it makes sense. He has no shame.

"You don't have to look."

I scoff at that. It's utter bullshit. "You do everything you can to make sure I look at you, Cade—fucking attention whore." He is. Even earlier, choosing to sit by me and move closer when he knew I'd rather he sit anywhere else. He wants me to notice him. He makes sure I'm thinking about him. This is just another one of those little displays.

He pauses when he finally pulls his briefs over his hips, covering the unblemished globes of his ass in a deep red fabric that clings to him like a second skin. Might as well have left them off. "Why do you give it to me?" he asks with his back still to me, and I force my eyes off of his ass, letting them trail up his spine to his broad shoulders.

The slick sounds of him stroking himself are still fresh in my mind. Those breathless and desperate little noises as he brought himself closer and closer, my voice pushing him there.

I shake my head. "Give you what?" I make myself ask even though I'm not sure I want to know. It's better than the silence. The heat swirling in my abs has my stomach tightening, and it's not something I want to acknowledge.

"Your attention. You can't stand to look at me, yet you do." He finally turns around, and when his gaze sweeps across my chest, I regret not grabbing a shirt.

"Why do you want me to?"

"It's a great ass." He shrugs with a cocky grin that I'd love to smack off his face. It is a great ass. It's just too bad it's attached to such an infuriating boy. Seems like a waste. "Someone should be looking at it."

"Why do you want me to look at you?" I'm being antagonistic, but I genuinely want to know. What is with this obsession with me? But based on the look he's giving me at the moment, I'm not sure even he knows.

After a fruitless moment of searching for an answer, he ends up rubbing his face with a frustrated little growl. "I'm just horny."

I… do not have a response to that—can only watch him as he crosses his arms to try and cover himself. I guess he does have some shame then. But all it does is squeeze his pecs together, and I have to force myself not to fixate on them.

I don't know how to take what he's saying. It's self-explanatory but somehow makes zero sense at the same time.

"It's not you . I hate you just as much as you hate me, Nic. I'm just fucking… I don't even know! You look all…" A manic-sounding laugh cuts through his train of thought. "You know how you look," he sneers like I was about to argue or something. I wasn't. I have no reply because I have no clue what to say to that . "Wearing your slutty pants—don't act like you don't know what you're doing."

A laugh starts to bubble out of my chest, but it's cut short when I look down to eye my sweats. Yeah. I left my boxers off, opting for comfort, and grey sweatpants don't hide much. But still. Is he saying he likes how I look? "You're not making sense."

"You're hot, you dumb fuck. You—" His face flushes at the admission, but he barrels through it before I have time to react. "You don't think I am?"

My mouth falls open, brows dipping because what is going on? How is this up for discussion right now—knowing me, why would he put that out there? So many questions.

Of course I think he's hot. Doesn't everyone? I'm not going to stroke his little ego, though.

"What does that have to do with any of this?"

"So you do?"

"I didn't say that." And I would never. He has access to a mirror. "This is stupid. Go to fucking bed."

"No. Not til…" His face falls, still pink as his shoulders slump like he's lost the will to keep this going. I don't know for sure what he wanted or what was going through his head as he said all of that, but I can guess.

And maybe I want it too.

There are things in my life that cannot be explained, and this is for sure one of them. Cade is out of my league. He could find anyone, a girl or boy who he actually likes. Someone who treats him like a person and not competition. Someone not so mentally fucked. Someone not so physically fucked.

"What do you want from me, Cade?" I don't bother hiding the exasperation in my voice. "You want to come?" I ask, not letting him drag it out. "Don't," I warn when he opens his mouth to argue. "I've told you, I'm not rewarding bad behavior, little brother. If you want something, you need to be a big boy and ask for it."

"Fuck you."

A smile, not at all kind, splits my face. "Fuck you ," I correct because that's what this is. It's what he wants. He's once again begging––this time for something we both want. "That's what you need, isn't it?" My lips twitch when his arms tighten, pushing his pecs together that much more. It's obscene. A bit ridiculous.

He looks beyond pissed, standing there in just his briefs as his face washes red. He's always worked out, and he has the body to prove it. His abs are something I've worked hard to have myself, but even so, they don't look like his. Perfect. Hills and valleys that taper down into a sexy V.

I can't believe he had the audacity to ask if I find him attractive. I have eyes.

It's why I get to see it as his cock starts to stiffen. I swallow, adjusting my stance so I'm not mirroring him too closely. But it's no use. My body is reacting to his, to this sexually charged air he's trying to suffocate me with.

I take a couple of steps towards him, reveling in the nervous tick his jaw gives. He's practically vibrating, putting so much need on display. It's a heady thing, all this power he's given me.

"Ask nicely." My voice slips between us huskily, has him huffing out a breath hard enough that I feel it before he throws his head back in frustration.

"God, what is wrong with you?" He slides a rough hand through his hair, giving it a sharp tug.

"Try again."

Come on, Cade , I silently beg . I hope he gives in. I know that he wants it, but it's getting harder to deny that I do too.

"Eat shit!" He shoves at me with barely enough force to move me.

Ugh. It's a shame my dick still wants him. "Yeah, I can see why Liam passed on all this." I take a step back to eye his frame disapprovingly, more for show than anything. There's a little wet spot on his briefs that I make sure to give a little extra attention. "With you being so desperate to give it up, I had to wonder, but—"

His fist connects with my jaw, and I react on instinct. There's a struggle—not much of one—that ends with him once again facing the dresser, cheek pressed onto the surface as I hold him there, one arm behind his back.

"That wasn't very nice." I ignore the throbbing in my face and tighten my grip on him when he tries to move. The hold has him trying harder, and when he bucks beneath me, all it does is press his ass right against my groin, and then he gives up. Just like that—the feel of my stiff cock silencing him. The only sounds in the room are our breaths, heavy and ragged. "You want it so badly, Cade." I lean over his back, fight a groan as my dick slots easily against his crease. "All I need is a please, Nic . Say it, and it's yours."

He shivers as my mouth skims over his ear. "No. I don't—" He drags in a shaky breath and twists his head, trying to get away from me, even as he presses his ass up against me. "I'm not saying that. This has nothing to do with you. It's—we're just getting off. I could do that with anyone."

I force out a laugh as my forehead rests on his shoulder blade. He could do that with anyone. But he wants me, and I have to remind myself of that.

"Okay. Sure. We can pretend." If he wants to keep my name off his tongue for now, I can let that slide. It won't last long. "But I do need to hear you beg."

I don't even know why. I just want it, and if I'm giving him something, I deserve something in return. "Beg." I'm being an asshole, but fuck. It'd sound so good. I can't see his mouth, but I can picture how his lips would look as he'd do it. Swear I can hear it, feel it in my balls as I imagine it.

"I fucking hate you," he seethes. "You— nngh ." His hips jerk as my hand slides over his needy dick, pressing into the touch as best as he can because, despite his petulance, he wants it. My touch. Me.

"Give in," I speak the command against the bend of his neck, giving him a squeeze that drags out a guttural groan.

" Nic ."

I don't rub it in. Just let myself enjoy the burst of self-righteousness that flares in my chest at hearing my name in this boy's mouth and run my nose down his neck, silently breathing him in. My hand tightens until he hisses and I let go completely to move it somewhere else. I have to ignore the noise of complaint he lets out before my fingers skirt over his skin, a featherlight touch over his treasure trail. It feels like I'm teasing both of us.

"Let's hear it."

He gives me a whimper, a muted little whine that sounds like a complaint more than anything. Like he's upset with himself for giving me so much. It's so much better than the plea I wanted, and my cock throbs.

"Nic, please . "