Chapter 10

10

brODY

I saac was ignoring me.

It was Saturday now, and three long days had come and gone without a single word from him. Not even when I'd sent him the video he'd asked for—something I'd never done for another person in my entire life. I felt stupid, taking a video of myself masturbating, murmuring dirty things to the camera. Some of my cum had even spurted onto the lens, which is where I ended the video to quickly wipe it away. But knowing that Isaac had wanted it, that Isaac would watch it and get turned on—that had been worth it. He was so fucking beautiful when he lost control. His face flushed the prettiest rose color, and I wanted to see how far down it went. I wanted to see his pretty little cock, to taste it, to swallow it whole and make him come for me. I wanted everything with Isaac, but he wasn't texting me back.

Had I done something wrong? Was there some kind of sign I should have seen, something to let me know that he wasn't actually okay with what had happened?

Fuck, why hadn't I been more careful? I shouldn't have told him any of that, but I hadn't been able to deny his heartfelt plea for me to let him in. I couldn't deny him anything. I didn't want to. I wanted to give him everything. Maybe I was too eager? Maybe he'd realized he could do so much better than me?

But why couldn't he just text me back and tell me that? We were fucking adults, not tweens playing games. The anger and frustration kept coming and going, but they weren't sticking. Because my main emotion surrounding it all was a big heaping helping of concern. I was worried as fuck that something had happened to him. And it's not like I could just go over to his house and bother him because he hadn't responded to a text. I wasn't anyone to him, I had no hold over him. So I had decided to just wait until Saturday evening when we had agreed to meet at our usual time. And if he didn't show up, then I would go to his house. Because a deal was a deal, no matter if he'd suddenly decided he didn't like me anymore.

He didn't have to like me to read to me.

But something told me that him not liking me all of a sudden wasn't the case here. He'd been so damn eager on Wednesday, so needy and so fucking sexy with how needy he was that it had been nearly impossible to hold myself back from just laying him out on the couch and taking him like I wanted to.

If he didn't show up tonight, I was going over there. If he decided to end things, fine. I just wanted to hear it from him, face to face, first.

"What's got your knickers in a knot?"

I stared down at the completion paperwork I'd just been zoning out on, then looked over at Bri. "Nothing," I muttered.

Pop . "Liar. Is it Isaac?"

"Have you done any work today? Anything at all?" I snapped. I didn't want to talk about Isaac right now, and not with Bri.

Smack smack smack. "Tons. Loads. Probably more than you, even."

"I doubt that," I said. I finished the paperwork and pushed it toward her. "Here. You can call them."

"You were a dictator in your past life, I'm almost a hundred percent on that one."

"And you were probably Lizzie Borden. I'm heading out, I'll see you Monday." Bri popped her gum at me as I grabbed my jacket and walked out the door, not bothering to put it on and throwing it on the passenger seat as I got in my truck.

After a long shower when I got home, I only had five minutes until Isaac was supposed to get here, but that sinking feeling in my gut told me I was about to be let down. I sat on the couch and waited, staring at the cactus and trying to sift through the mixture of emotions that were running through me, as well as the many reasons I'd made up as to why he hadn't texted me back.

Maybe he'd dropped his phone in the toilet. Maybe he'd thrown it out the window after seeing my video. Maybe someone had stolen it. Maybe Jordan had found out about us, gotten mad, and destroyed his phone. Maybe he'd been walking up a flight of stairs eating something greasy while scrolling through his phone and it slipped out of his hands and fell several stories over the railing.

When five o' clock came and went with no sign of Isaac, I texted him. When he didn't respond, fifteen minutes later, I called him. It went straight to voicemail. I decided to leave him one, though I wasn't hopeful that he'd call me back.

"Hey, Isaac, it's Brody…I just wanted to know if you were okay? You haven't responded to any of my texts and I guess you forgot it's Saturday or maybe something happened but…can you please call me back? I'm worried about you." I hung up with a frustrated sigh and wished I hadn't left a message.

Worry was gnawing at me, so I grabbed my keys and a light flannel, got in my truck, and drove over to his house. His car was sitting out front, which gave me some relief, but apprehension began to seep in as I made my way to the front door. Would he turn me away? Was this it? Fuck, I didn't want this to be it.

I knocked and waited. When no one came after a few minutes, I knocked again, harder. Thirty seconds later the door swung open and a young guy about my height with buzzed blond hair and light brown eyes stared at me in confusion.

"Uh…can I help you?"

"Is Isaac here?" I asked.

"Who's asking?"

Did that mean yes? "Tell him it's Brody. That…well…" I cleared my throat. "Can he come to the door? I need to speak with him." To see him. Make sure he was okay.

The guy pursed his lips and said, "No, he's not really feeling very well. But I can tell him you stopped by."

He started to close the door on me, but my hand shot out to slap more harshly against the wood than I had intended, and the guy's eyebrows went up. "Is he sick?" I asked, feeling stupid for not having realized that maybe that's why he wasn't getting back to me. "What's wrong with him?"

"Oh Camerrooonnn!" A voice sang from somewhere in the house. "Do we have guests, darling? How delightful!" Jordan swept into view with a huge grin on his face, but it faltered when he saw me. "Oh—hey, Brody. What's, uh…what're you doing here?"

"What's wrong with Isaac?" I asked, ignoring his question. Something like fear had started to crawl its way up my spine, and I just wanted to see Isaac.

Jordan, in a rare moment of earnestness, said, "He's having a really hard time right now. Something…well, you don't need to worry about it. He'll be all right soon. Did you need me to tell him something?"

"Jordan," I said, feeling my patience dwindle and my panic build. "What, exactly, is wrong with him? Why is he having a hard time? Can I just—can you let me in? I just want to see him. He hasn't been responding to any of my messages and he never showed up tonight, so I'm worried. I've been worried."

Jordan looked me up and down, slowly, biting his lower lip while he seemed to calculate something in his mind. The other guy, Cameron, just walked away, disinterested. Then Jordan said, "Hmm. Maybe he'll be happy to see you. But I don't know, he doesn't want to be around anyone right now, not even me. Even though we share a room, so that's not really a wish I've been able to fulfill?—"

"Just take me to him, Jordan," I gritted out. "And if he really doesn't want to see me, I'll leave."

Jordan narrowed his eyes at me, then said, "Fine. Follow me."

I followed him into the house, up the stairs, and down to the end of the hall. Their door was closed and barely any light was coming through the small sliver of space at the bottom. Jordan knocked and said softly, "Isaac, I'm coming in." He cracked the door open and poked his head inside. "Isaac, honey?"

A small voice somewhere in the room said weakly, "Go away."

"There's someone here to see you."

There was no response. Jordan turned to me and whispered, "That's actually the first time he's spoken today."

Why wasn't he speaking? Fuck this.

I brushed past Jordan, who gasped and said, "No, you can't?—"

"Isaac," I said, letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The shades were drawn and did a good job of keeping out most of the light, but I was able to make out a small lump in the bed on the right side of the room. It moved, and a little tuft of blond hair was revealed, then dainty fingers that curled back the blanket to reveal his face. Even in the low light, I could see there was something seriously wrong with Isaac. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes and they'd lost their luster. His hair was a shaggy mess and his cheeks looked hollower, his skin paler. I felt like a knife had been plunged into my gut.

"Isaac," I said hoarsely, stepping closer as those dull eyes followed me. "What's wrong, baby? What happened? Are you sick?"

"Brody," he whispered. His voice was raspy, like he hadn't been drinking enough, like he'd been screaming for hours on end. He turned his head away from me to face the wall, his fingers clutching the blanket so hard they were stark white. And they were trembling.

"Isaac," I said, feeling defeated. "Sweetheart…tell me what's wrong." My chest felt so tight, watching him turn away from me. I moved closer, until I was standing over him. I wanted to take him into my arms so badly, but I didn't want to set him off. "Can I hold you?" I whispered.

Isaac turned again, raising those dull green eyes slowly to mine. "Okay," he croaked. He sounded…fuck, he sounded scared , and I had no idea why. Was he scared of me ? Did I do this? I thought my heart might actually break if that was the case.

"Okay," I said softly. "I'm gonna come under there with you, okay?" I moved slowly, gripping the top of the blanket and watching his face for any indication he'd changed his mind. But he just nodded and scooted closer to the wall to make room for me.

I quickly toed my boots off and climbed in behind him, resting one arm above his head and bringing the covers back up. Then I wrapped my other arm around his front, palming his stomach and pressing him firmly against me. He shuddered and let out a harsh breath, and before I could ask if this was okay, if he wanted me to leave, he grabbed my forearm with both hands and squeezed it against himself.

"Is this okay?" I murmured into his hair. Flyaway strands were tickling my nose and cheek, but I just dug my face deeper until my lips were right behind his ear.

"Yes," he whispered. My beautiful fucking boy was a shadow of himself right now, and I wanted to find whatever or whoever had made him this way and rip their spine from their throat. But first I would lie here with him and give him whatever comfort I could offer.

When he lifted his head and grabbed the arm I was resting on the pillow above him, bringing it down underneath his head to use as a pillow, I pulled him even closer with my other arm. He slowly, almost hesitantly, curled the back of his hand in my open palm, sifting his fingers through mine, trying to link them together. I completed the link and curled our fingers inward, holding him tightly. My heart felt like it was bleeding out, and a wave of intense protectiveness and possessiveness crashed over me. Fuck, this prickly little porcupine was so goddamn sweet when he lowered his spikes and I wanted all of what he could offer for myself.

"Whatever happened," I murmured near his ear, "you are still the most beautiful boy I've ever met, inside and out. You don't have to go through this alone. I'm right here for you. I won't let anyone hurt you, Isaac."

His fingers tightened in an almost painful grip, and his body began to shiver against mine. I heard a small whimper, almost inaudible, so I began whispering to him.

Shh you're okay, everything's gonna be okay, shh shh I've got you, sweetheart, I've got you.

I rubbed my palm up and down his torso, with his small hand circled around my wrist and following the movements. Gradually, his shudders eased up and his breathing evened out, deepening, and I knew he'd fallen asleep.

I didn't move for a long time. The light began to fade and the room slowly darkened until it was nighttime and no light was left. Isaac stayed asleep, snoring lightly, and even though my arm had fallen asleep, I wasn't about to move it for anything.

Jordan came in a little while later, moving quietly around the room and using what I assumed was his phone's flashlight to see.

"Jordan," I said quietly, making sure I didn't wake Isaac. He was still snoring, thank god.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me what happened."

Jordan sighed, and I heard him come closer. "It's not really my place," he said.

"Please," I said. "I really fucking care about him, and I just want to take care of him, okay? I need to know what happened and…and how to fix this."

Another sigh, and then Jordan said, "There are some things that should only come from Isaac, because if he wants to tell you, he will, in his own time. But for now, I'll just say that we got a new roommate and he looks exactly like someone who hurt Isaac in high school. It's actually the younger brother of that person, but we didn't know. We didn't know until Isaac had a panic attack and locked himself in our room, and then he wasn't even able to tell me until later that night. He was convinced that it was E—it was the guy who hurt him, and I had to explain to him that it wasn't, that he was safe, that no one was gonna let him get hurt. I don't think he believed a word of it. He's been in this bed for three days. Well, except for the shower I made him take. I didn't really know what to do, I've tried to get him to get up, to go to class or eat, but he was practically catatonic. I'm surprised he let you in there with him, he must really…yeah, he really likes you, Brody. He trusts you." The last part was said with a kind of awe, as if Jordan was realizing a few things and just speaking to himself.

I felt like I had ice pumping through my veins and fire crawling beneath my skin. How the fuck could they have let this happen? I knew it wasn't really their fault and this hadn't been done with malicious intentions, but I wanted someone to blame, and I was furious that Isaac had been exposed to the lookalike brother of his…of the person who had hurt him. I had no idea how he'd been hurt, but I knew, based on the severity of his reaction, that it had been horrific. I wanted to get him out of here, because I wasn't about to let him continue living with this person. To let him relive his trauma day after day, every single time he ran into his roommate. He needed space from this house and that trigger, he needed a safe place he could recuperate in peace.

"Jordan," I rasped. "He can't stay here." Isaac's slow, deep inhales made his chest expand against my hand, and my heart swelled with the motion. He was so delicate, and yet, so fucking strong that it was devastating to see him like this. I needed to help him, and staying here wasn't going to help him.

"I mean…where is he supposed to go?"

"He can stay with me," I said right away. "He can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch. Can you pack some things for him?"

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Okay. You have to promise me— promise me, Brody —that you only have his wellbeing in mind right now, because I swear if you fucking hurt him, I will gut you . I will fucking hurt you."

"Jordan," I said. "I'm glad Isaac has a friend like you. I promise you, the last thing I ever want to do is hurt him."

"Okay. Okay, I'm gonna pack some stuff for him. Christ, I can't believe this has happened," he muttered.

I heard him shuffling around the room and quietly packing. I needed to wake Isaac and ask him if he even wanted to come stay with me, because it was ultimately up to him, and I had no idea what I was going to do if he said no. But I couldn't let him stay here, I just couldn't. It would kill me if he said no.

"Sweetheart," I murmured, nuzzling my nose into the nape of his neck. His skin was so soft, and I couldn't help placing a small, gentle kiss there, my lips tingling as they brushed the downy baby hairs. "Isaac, wake up for me."

I started to draw away, and as soon as I lifted my hand from his stomach, he stiffened. The fingers curled in my own flexed, and he said hoarsely, "Brody?"

"I'm right here, beautiful," I said.

"I thought I dreamed you up," he said, pushing back against me where I'd pulled away. He needed this closeness, needed to keep touching me, I think, and a burst of affection ballooned in my chest.

"No, I'm real," I said with a low chuckle. "Isaac, I need to ask you something."

He rubbed his cheek against my bicep and pressed his feet against my shins, wiggling his toes. "What?"

"Jordan told me the reason you're not feeling…like yourself is because of your new roommate," I started, and he stilled against me. "And I wanted to ask you if you'd like to stay with me for a while? Until things get sorted out?" I didn't know if things would be sorted out, but for right now, I needed to get him away from here.

"I don't…stay with you?" He still sounded like he was hovering on that line between sleep and wakefulness, so as much as I didn't want to, I unlinked our fingers and sat up. "No," he said instantly, his tone panicked. He rolled over and reached for me, his fingers finding my hand and grasping it hard between both of his. "Please don't leave me! Please, Brody, I?—"

Immediately, I slid back down and let him wrap his limbs around me like a monkey, bringing my arms around his back and gently stroking up and down. "Shh, it's okay, I'm not leaving you." He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his body shaking in my arms. "I won't leave you, Isaac."

"I want to be with you," he said, his lips brushing over my skin as he spoke. "You're the only place I feel safe right now."

"Okay, baby," I murmured. "You can be with me. Jordan's packing some things for you. Are you okay to leave tonight? Are you sure about this?"

He nodded, and I could feel the softness of his cheek stroking the shell of my ear.

"Okay, that's good. We're gonna get you feeling better soon, okay, Isaac?"

He nodded again, and when I sat up and swung my feet to the floor so that I was perched on the edge of the bed, he clung to me harder, legs wrapped around my waist and arms locked around my neck. "Jordan, can you put a light on? Not too bright," I said.

Jordan didn't say anything, but a few seconds later a low desk lamp came on. I pulled back enough so I could see what Isaac was wearing, and though the t-shirt was fine, he was just in his boxers. "Hey," I said, placing my hands on either side of his head and gently moving it back so I could look into his eyes. His brows were drawn together and his eyes latched onto mine. "Can we get some pants on you?"

"Yeah," he said softly. Jordan handed him a folded pair of blue jeans and he reluctantly slid off me. He sat right next to me on the bed and sluggishly pulled his jeans on. When he got to the top of his thighs, he stopped and just sat there, staring in front of him at nothing.

I leaned over and gripped the waist of his pants, said, "Lift," and slid them the rest of the way. He let me zip and button them, then I said, "Where are your shoes?"

"Here," Jordan said, setting a pair of boots by his feet. I got off the bed and knelt at Isaac's feet, lifting one foot and slipping it inside his shoe, then the other. I looked up at him as I tied the laces, and his gaze clung to mine. I smiled at him, biting back all the words of reassurance and affection that were bubbling up inside me, saving those for when we were alone. I was glad that those words were stronger than the anger right now, because Isaac needed me to be soft and gentle. The fury could wait until I had a clearer idea of where to direct it, and how.

"Ready?" I asked him, still kneeling. His eyes bounced back and forth between mine, and he nodded. I was about to stand and grab whatever Jordan had packed when he launched himself at me and wrapped his limbs around me once again. I slid one arm under his butt and stood up, then turned to Jordan. "You got his stuff?"

"Yep. Two big bags should be enough for now, and I can always bring anything else he needs by later. I'll carry it to the car for you."

"Thank you," I said. I slid my feet back into my boots and we headed downstairs and out the door. I had been bracing myself for running into the new roommate, but no one was around, thankfully. When I set Isaac on the passenger side, he let go reluctantly, and I cupped his cheek and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. I took the bags from Jordan and tossed them in the bed, then said, "I should have your number, in case something happens."

Jordan nodded and gave me his number, then said, shifting uneasily, "I feel so fucking bad. Like the shittiest friend. But I'm glad…I'm glad he's comfortable with you. At least he's talking again. And moving. Have him call me in the morning, okay? I packed all his school stuff, and I even emailed all his professors and told them he was sick, so they gave him extensions on things. He's so fucking anal about his grades, and he's gonna be so pissed when he's back to himself again. Just let him know that it's okay and that I love him, okay?"

"I will. Maybe you should get in touch with housing, tell them the situation? Get that guy to move somewhere else?"

Jordan bit his lip and said, "Isaac doesn't want anyone to know what happened, so I doubt we could just tell the school that we want the guy to move out just because. And Sam is nothing like his brother. He just looks like him, which is monumentally unfortunate. Cameron has been friends with Sam for years, like best friends, so when Sam's house flooded a few days ago and him and all his roommates had to leave, Cam offered him the basement here. Cam didn't know who Sam's brother was to Isaac, and I don't think Sam even knows what his brother did. He was so upset about what happened that he's just been staying in his room, too. He feels horrible, and he's been looking for other places to live, but there is nowhere else. This whole situation is so fucked up. I mean, maybe Isaac will want to tell the school, just to have a safe place to live—not that I'm saying it's not safe, because it is, but a place he feels safe—but I doubt it. He never even told his aunt and uncle what happened. Hell, he's hardly told me . I just know the bare minimum, and even that was enough, so I don't blame Isaac at all for not wanting to share this. Just…just take care of him, okay?"

I swallowed against the horrible thickness in my throat and bit the inside of my cheek. Nodding, I said, "You're not a shitty friend, Jordan. Isaac needs people in his life who care enough to help him by loving him for who he is. I see the way he is with you, and it's obvious he loves you. You're a good friend."

Jordan's eyes were shiny, glistening with unshed tears. He took a deep breath and slapped the side of my truck. "Get the fuck out of here and go be all cute with each other." Then he turned around and went inside.

When I slid behind the wheel and started the car, Isaac was curled up against the passenger door, his arms tucked around his legs. He'd put his seatbelt on, which I took to be a good sign, but he was staring blankly out the windshield. "You ready?" I asked. I think, if he said no, I would've just kidnapped him at this point.

But he nodded, his gaze flicking briefly to mine. And then, painstakingly slowly, he moved his left hand down to the seat and slid it toward me, fingers outstretched. I took it in mine immediately, slipping my fingers through his and grasping him tight. My eyes slid closed for a moment, tenderness blooming in my chest as I let myself revel in the simple feel of holding his hand. Then, my jaw set in determination, I used my left hand to shift into drive and pulled away from Isaac's house.

I almost shit myself when Isaac spoke. We'd been driving for ten minutes in silence, the only sound the humming of the engine and tires on asphalt. I'd been glancing at him every thirty seconds to gauge how he was doing and also because he was so heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Can we stop at Taco Bell?" he asked softly.

I startled and looked over at him, saw he was gazing at me with an almost hopeful expression, so I said, "Of course we can. What do you want from there?"

"Some crunchy tacos. And hot sauce."

I looked at the time on the dash. It was only nine, so they were still open. If they hadn't been, I probably would've broken in and made the damn tacos myself.

"Whatever you want," I said, squeezing his hand. God, it felt so good, so right, to have his hand in mine.

"Thanks, Brody," he whispered.

I got him ten crunchy tacos and probably thirty packets of hot sauce, even though it was overkill and he most likely wouldn't eat more than one or two. I'd offered him the bag, but he hadn't wanted to eat them in the car. I'd try to get him to have at least one when we got back.

The rest of the ride was quiet, but Isaac seemed a tiny bit more alert and walked beside me to the house while I carried his bags. Once we were in the basement, door shut and locked, I led him to my bedroom. He hesitated in the doorway, watching me while I set his bags at the foot of my dresser and turned down the blanket.

"You can sleep in here," I told him. "I'll even let you eat your tacos in my bed. I'll sleep on the couch, and you can come get me if you need anything. Okay?"

He started to nod, then shook his head hard. "I don't…will you stay with me?"

"Whatever you want, Isaac. I'll do whatever you want."

"I want you to stay," he said, stepping into the room.

"Then I'll stay," I said softly. "Come here." I held my hand out and he didn't hesitate. His fingers curled in mine and he let me bring him to sit on the edge of the bed. Keeping my eyes on his, because he wasn't looking anywhere else and I felt that it was grounding him, somehow, I kicked my boots off and unzipped my pants, shoving them off my legs and folding them neatly before setting them on top of the dresser. Isaac stood up and did the same, though his movements were slow and disjointed. Then he crawled into the bed, near the wall, and slipped his legs under the covers. Still watching me.

I grabbed the food and brought it with me, setting it between us as I got in bed. "I want you to eat at least one of these," I said. I wasn't sure when he'd eaten last, but I could take a guess that it hadn't been today. Or yesterday. Maybe not even since Wednesday.

"Eat with me," he said.

I pulled out two crunchy tacos and a handful of hot sauce and handed him one, putting the sauce in the space between us. Isaac watched me as I unwrapped my taco, then ripped open a packet of hot sauce with my teeth, his gaze flitting from my mouth to my eyes. I was pleased to see more color in his cheeks now, a little more life in those green eyes, and when he delicately unwrapped his own taco, I was overjoyed. He used his teeth to open the sauce packet as he held my gaze, and for whatever reason the image seemed wholly erotic, but I was cursing the heat that curled in my belly because now was not the fucking time.

Isaac took small, careful bites, looking from me to his food, and when he was done and asked for another, I practically ripped the bag to get him another taco.

He ended up eating three, and I felt like I'd accomplished some great feat. I had an aluminum water bottle on my bedside table, and he drank from it, taking long gulps, some of the water sluicing down his chin and dripping onto his shirt. When I went to put the rest of the tacos in the fridge out in the living room, he panicked.

"Don't leave me," he whispered harshly.

"I'll be right back, Isaac, I promise. Okay? I'm just putting these in the fridge. I'll be back in thirty seconds. Can you count them for me?" I gripped the nape of his neck and pulled him toward me so I could kiss his forehead, and he nodded against my lips.

"Good. I'm so fucking proud of you, sweetheart. You're doing such a good job. Count for me," I said, getting up and walking backwards out of the room so he could see my face. My eyes. There was fear in his eyes, but he started counting, and I was back before he got to fifteen.

When I slid in next to him after shutting off the light, he turned to face the wall and I wrapped my body around his as we mirrored the pose we'd been in back in his room. His fingers were laced in mine and I made sure to stay awake until his breathing deepened, until he was snoring softly, and then I followed him into sleep.