Chapter 12

12

ISAAC

" W hen I was a freshman in high school, there was a junior named Ethan. He was super popular, on the football team, golden boy, everyone loved him, blah, blah, blah. I was just a dorky loner with no friends, and one day, Ethan started talking to me. He would go out of his way to say hi after gym class when we were in the locker room, and at first, I liked having his attention and didn't really think anything of it at the time. Honestly, I just thought it was weird a junior was in a freshman gym class, but apparently he'd skipped gym his freshman year because of an injury or something.

"Anyway, no one had ever really tried getting to know me before and I looked forward to those few minutes at the end of gym when I knew Ethan would come see me. I blame my naive eagerness to finally have a friend on my home life. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle when I was two after my parents died in a car accident, but they never wanted me. It wasn't until I was older that it really started to sink in just how much they neglected me emotionally. I started to resent them, but mostly I just felt like there was something inherently wrong with me. Like I was completely unlovable in some fundamental way, and it was really my fault they couldn't stand me. I kind of thought it was because I like boys, but I never told them that and I don't think they ever really knew. Pretty sure they still don't, but I haven't spoken to them since I left for college."

I shrugged, as if the memory of having guardians that weren't meant to be parents was no big deal.

"So when Ethan started talking to me, being nice and complimenting me—I really, really liked it. He made me feel special when no one else in the world ever had. But there was something wrong with him. It was just a gut instinct, but it was strong. While I did like his attention, something about him made me really uncomfortable at the same time. And it wasn't very long until I learned why."

I took a deep breath and kept staring at my hands as I tied and untied the flimsy cords of my pants. I couldn't bring myself to look at Brody.

"One day he invited me over to his house. I thought, ‘Hey, why not, no one ever wants to spend time with me outside of school.' When I got there, Ethan said he wanted to show me something in his room. It never occurred to me that he might hurt me."

I sighed and shook my head. I didn't blame myself anymore, but remembering how gullible I was back then was still hard. There had been countless moments when I wished I could somehow visit my past self and warn him.

"We got to his room and it was like a switch had been flipped, like he was showing me the real Ethan. He used his much larger size to keep me in the room and told me how pretty I was. Like a girl." I scoffed at the memory. "He told me he could see how much I wanted him. By that point his…aggression had really started to make me uncomfortable, even a little scared, so I told him that wasn't true, that I didn't want him, and when he grabbed my arm I asked him to let me go. I asked him to leave me alone, but he didn't listen. Up until that point in my life, I didn't think I would ever be treated that way. People usually stopped when you told them to stop. I mean, I was never coddled, but I'd also never had anyone ignore me outright like that. I was so, so sure that just because I had asked Ethan to stop that he would . I was so sure ."

My voice cracked, and I saw Brody start to move in my peripheral, but I put my hand up to ward him off. "I need to…just let me finish, and then…if you still want to…ugh." I scrubbed my hands over my face. "Just let me finish."

I sucked in a ragged, stilted breath, and kept going. "Ethan didn't listen to my nos and my stops . He forced himself on me, and…when it was over he told me it was my word against his and that my word didn't mean shit. I mean, he was right about that. At least that's what I thought at the time. So I didn't tell anyone.

"I was too scared to say anything. I was too ashamed and I felt like I'd brought it on myself by being so dumb. I stopped eating and my aunt and uncle got pissed off after a week of me refusing any food, but they ultimately didn't do anything about it. I never told them why I wasn't eating. I never told anyone.

"Then I started having these episodes. Something would trigger me and I would just…go crazy."

I tapped a finger against my temple. "With trauma, the mind wants to forget, but the body forces you to remember. It's like a warning system has been embedded in you on a cellular level so that when a situation or a person is reminiscent of the traumatic event, it's like a blaring alarm telling you that there's danger and you need to get out of there. Or fight it.

"My aunt and uncle didn't know what to do with me, and by the time I turned eighteen, they washed their hands of me. A school counselor suggested I try seeing a therapist. I was against it at first, but when I started college I decided to try it out, see if it did anything. I hated those first few sessions, but my therapist was really patient and kind and never judged me a single time, so I eventually opened up to her about what happened. Her and Jordan are the only ones I've ever told, and… "

A humorless laugh bubbled out of me and I shook my head. "The only good part is that Ethan never even looked at me for the rest of the year."

It was too quiet and too hot down in this basement. My hands were shaking, resting on my thighs, the ties of my pants abandoned beside them. I stared at the tendons popping up through my skin near the knuckles, at the tiny cracks in my skin, the little barely-there blond hairs. I stared hard, as if I could see the very cells in my body that had been imprinted with the pain of the past, and said, "So…so when I saw, um, Sam? I think that's what Jordan said his name was…well, he looked exactly like Ethan. And I just shut down."

I couldn't look at Brody. I didn't want to see the horrified expression I knew I'd find on his face. I didn't want to see the pity or the disgust. I wanted to run out of that basement and never come back. I deeply regretted saying anything, but once I'd started, it had been impossible to staunch the flow of words that desperately needed to get out.

"Isaac," said Brody. His voice was torn and ragged, like he'd swallowed glass. "Sweetheart. Can I come over there?"

My vision blurred, and then tears were spilling down my face. And oh, god, there was nothing I wanted more than to lose myself in Brody's arms, but if I looked at him, I knew, I knew what I'd find in those pretty gray eyes that saw everything.

"Baby, I need to hold you right now. Please ."

He sounded utterly devastated, and more tears followed the rest. I swiped at them, trying to draw in air, gasping sharply as great, wrenching sobs tore out of me.

I fucking needed him.

"Brody," I sobbed, and he was on me in an instant. He pulled me into his arms, and I locked myself around him, hiding my wet face in his neck, my body heaving with the force of my tears. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and dragged it over us, one hand stroking firmly up and down my back while the other massaged the nape of my neck.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. I've got you, baby. I'm right here. You were so brave for sharing that with me, did you know that? You have so much courage, Isaac. So much. I'm so fucking sorry you had to go through that. I'm so sorry he hurt you, baby. You never deserved that. And it's not your fault. None of that is your fault. You are so fucking strong for surviving something like that, for getting where you are today. For not letting anything—not even that —get in the way of your dreams. You are so damn strong. Do you know how much I admire you? Do you know how much I care about you? So fucking beautiful," he murmured. He never stopped touching me, was rocking us gently as he let me cry into his neck. "You are perfect, Isaac. I'm lucky to have you in my life. I'm lucky to have you with me now. You're so good." I felt him kissing my hair, and my breathing began to even out, the tears slowing, my mind calming with every word he spoke. "You're okay. You'll always be safe with me. Always."

We stayed like that for a long time. I never wanted to move from the protection of his arms. His words. His acceptance. But I really needed a tissue, and I was pretty sure I'd snotted on his shirt. Maybe that would be his breaking point, since it seemed my past wasn't.

Slowly, reluctantly, I raised my head from the crook of his neck. His eyes were as kind as ever, though there was a sadness in those gray depths that hadn't been there before.

"I think I snotted on your shirt," I whispered. "Sorry."

An amused smile tugged his lips up, and he reached forward, grabbed a napkin off the table, and handed it to me. "I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you," he said. " This time."

I turned my face away and blew my nose, crumpling up the napkin. Brody took it from me without any mention of how gross I was being, and my heart felt like it was swelling in my chest. I traced a finger underneath his eye, marveling at how beautiful he was, inside and out, then trailed it down to his jaw. "I don't deserve someone like you," I said.

"You're right," he replied, making my heart deflate momentarily. "You deserve someone so much better. But for now, you're stuck with me."

"There is no one better," I whispered. "Brody, you are the best person I've ever met." I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, the slight stubble there scratching against my lips. "The best."

"Ditto," he said.

I laughed."What're we, ten?"

"At heart, yeah."

He slid his hands down my back, his fingers sliding underneath my shirt and dipping under the waistband of my pants. He didn't go any further, just stroked back and forth across the soft flesh of the top of my ass, skating over my crease, and stared into my eyes like he never wanted to be looking anywhere else.

Then I ruined the moment.

"Oh, behave," I said, trying for an impersonation of Austin Powers and probably failing. By the look on his face, I'd failed spectacularly.

"Oh my god ," he said, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Don't," I said.

"What was that?"

"Shut up."

"No, did you just have a stroke?"

"Ugh, stop."

"No, seriously, are you okay?"

I pinched his nipple and laughed as he batted my hand away. "Isaac, I'm gonna need you to do that again, but wait until I'm recording."

"God, you're worse than Jordan," I muttered, trying to pinch his nipple again. He grabbed my hand and forced it behind my back, smiling at me.

"No one is worse than Jordan," he said.

"True."

"Isaac?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me in. And letting me touch you. And spend time with you. I don't think I've ever been given a greater gift," Brody said.

Fuck, he was gonna make me cry again. But incredulous, happy tears this time. "Ditto," I said. Then I leaned forward, slid my hands up to splay against both sides of his face, and pressed my lips to his.

Brody groaned beneath me, his fingers dipping further into my pants to grab fully onto one cheek and squeeze. His lips were so soft, softer than I had imagined—and I had imagined this a lot . I had nothing to base my fantasies on, seeing as I'd never kissed anyone before, but this was so much better than anything I could've dreamed up. Plush and warm, I slotted his bottom lip between both of mine, and the slow, sensual way he started to move his mouth against mine had a surge of heat gathering in my lower belly and shooting down my spine. I angled my head and sucked his bottom lip between my teeth, moaning at how silky and warm it was, unable to stop myself from gliding my tongue along it and feeling the piercing that had been driving me mad since I met him.

He made a sound in the back of his throat that went straight to my balls and dipped his other hand into my pants, now cupping both cheeks and kneading them, pressing me into him so I could feel his erection against my own. His tongue slid into my mouth, gliding along mine, then retreating before I could properly taste him, so I groaned and thrust my tongue into his mouth, trying to show him what I wanted. When he did the same, I sucked on his tongue, and he squeezed my ass harder as he moaned into my mouth. The kiss became a little frenzied then, and he started to devour me, sucking on my lips, my tongue, tangling his with mine, and he was rolling his hips now, sliding our cocks together with each thrust of tongue. He was moving his pelvis in hard, rhythmic pumps, mimicking what his tongue was doing, and it was so fucking erotic and heady that my balls were drawing up as waves of pleasure throbbed through my groin. He was so hard behind his sweats that he felt like steel, and if we didn't stop I was going to just come in my pants. Which seemed to be par for the course when I was with Brody.

Sucking on his bottom lip—and playing with that damn piercing—one last time, I pulled away, panting, a haze of lust clouding my vision and making it hard to think. "Fuck," I said. "Who knew kissing could feel so fucking good?"

Brody stilled beneath me. "That was your first kiss?"

I leaned back a little more, searching his eyes, but there was no judgment there. "Yeah," I admitted.

He let out a small grunt and pushed his hips up while using his grip on my ass to press me into him, ripping a tortured moan from my throat at how good it felt. "Christ, Isaac. I'm the only one who's ever tasted how sweet those lips are," he murmured, amazement in his tone. He surged forward and captured my lips again, and I let him devour me. He kept thrusting his cock against mine as his tongue completely wrecked me, as his lips sucked and his teeth nibbled, and I really was going to come if he didn't stop.

I pulled back again and said breathlessly, "I won't have any clean pants left if we keep going at this rate."

"Why'd you put pants on in the first place?"

"Why did you ?"

"I had to go upstairs. What's your excuse?"

I laughed and just stared at him. I loved this side of Brody. Sexy and playful and sweet. He was so easy to be with, so quick to accept every fucked up part of me, and I wanted to be with him in the most intimate way possible. I wanted to get as close as two people could.

"Brody," I said softly, toying with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Nerves flitted through my belly. "I want you to fuck me."

"Isaac…" he said, brows drawn together, eyes bouncing around my entire face, hunting for something. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and I brushed it with my thumb.

"I want you to fuck me," I repeated. "I know what I just told you is…well, it probably makes you want to do the opposite. Or now I disgust you and…never mind, I don't know what the fuck was I thinking," I said, feeling stupid and ridiculous as he just continued to stare at me as if he'd never seen me before. I tried to move off him, but his arms tightened around me.

"No—Isaac, sweetheart, how could you possibly think you disgust me?" He grabbed my waist and gave me a little shake, looking almost angry. His voice was filled with so much emotion, it was practically shaking as he said, "You're fucking beautiful to me. From the moment I saw you, you've only ever been beautiful . What you told me in no way changed how I look at you. If anything, it only makes me respect you more. It only makes me want to keep you by my side forever and make sure nothing and no one can ever hurt you again. You were taken advantage of in the most horrific way at a young age and had no one —not a single goddamn person —to help you! I'm only disgusted with every single person in your life who let you down, and believe me, Isaac, I'm making a fucking list."

He was so worked up now, the vein in his neck was bulging and pulsing with every beat of his heart, and I didn't want him to pass out, so I put my hands on either side of his face and said quietly, "Okay. Brody, it's okay. Just calm down. I believe you. Breathe, big guy. Deep breaths."

His eyes were a little wild as he stared at me, panting, and when I took an exaggeratedly loud and long breath, he did the same. We breathed for a minute, just staring into each other's eyes, and once he seemed calmer, I brushed back the hair from his forehead. "Nobody has hurt me in a long, long time. Okay? I just want to share something special with you that I've never gotten to do with anyone else because I've never let myself get close enough to feel safe with another person. But I feel safe with you. And I want you to be…I want you to fuck me. If you want that, too," I added hurriedly.

He scoffed. "Of course I want that. Like I keep saying, Isaac, whatever you want. And if this is something you truly want, then I'm humbled you want to share it with me."

"Christ, where have you been all my life? Or even this whole entire year?"

He huffed a laugh. "Barely interacting with people because most of them suck," he said.

"Yeah, they kinda do."

He met my gaze again, his expression turning determined. "I can make it feel good for you. Only good. The way it's supposed to feel."

"I know…and I know it can feel good. I've done a lot of research over the years, and watched quite a bit of porn. So, I know how it's supposed to go. It's just not how it went for me."

There was so much sadness in his eyes as he looked at me that I leaned in and licked his cheek, making him laugh. I hated seeing him sad, and especially because of me.

"How about we start slow," Brody said, watching my face closely. "Get you comfortable with, uh…penetration."

The flush that bloomed across his cheekbones was insanely endearing and I brushed it with my thumbs. "Like…fingering?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice getting huskier. "We could use toys, too. Although I don't have any and it's currently armageddon outside, so…I think we'll just have to stick with fingers. Maybe some tongue. Fuck, I'd love to get my tongue in your tight little hole." His voice was so raspy that it was making me harder, and coupled with what he'd just said—I needed that now .

Rolling my hips against him, I said, "Can we do it now?"

"Whatever you want, baby."