Chapter 15

15

ISAAC

T here was a lot of lasagna, and after Brody had heated up the first plate, I told him to go downstairs and get started while I waited for the second. His stomach had been growling non stop for five straight minutes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, "I'll be right down. Hopefully you'll still be alive, but if not, I mean…thanks for saving my life?"

He snorted and headed back down to the basement.

I stared out the kitchen window while the lasagna was heating, watching the fat, white flakes pouring from the sky. Everything was pure white outside, and I was so happy to be snowed in with Brody. The prospect of getting time off from school—time I could spend with Brody—made me feel giddy and excited. I'd meant it when I said he was the best person I'd ever met. Outside of Jordan, I'd never really been this close with anyone. I'd never felt this way about someone else, and I sure as hell had never been so physically aware of and drawn to another person. And the way he looked at me…like he'd never seen anything more desirable. God, it was exhilarating. That, coupled with the words he kept giving me and how gentle he was, how patient and caring and sweet…I wanted that. All the time. He'd shown me things I'd never thought possible, uncovered parts of me that had been long buried, and it was so, so easy just being in his company. He was funny and smart and persistent and?—

"Wow you're still alive?"

I blinked and turned my head to see Gavin rifling through the fridge. I didn't know Gavin very well, had only met him a handful of times, and even then there weren't many words spoken between us. Quick hellos and what's ups . He was kind of a dude bro and had always struck me as a bit of a jerk, but that was based on his aggressive body language and dismissive attitude. Jordan absolutely hated the guy, though. My mind went back to Jamie's birthday party, when Jordan had been arguing with him.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He grabbed a can of soda and kicked the fridge shut with his foot, popped the top, took a long guzzle, then let out a drawn out, satisfied, "Ahhhh."

Ugh.

He looked me up and down, raised his eyebrows, and said, "Just, you know. You've been down there with the freak in his cave. Always figured he was like a serial killer or something. I keep my door locked at night."

Something soured in my gut at his words. A strong shockwave of anger rippled through me, and my hands curled into tight fists as I turned to him. "What did you just say?"

The microwave beeped loudly. Gavin's eyes flicked to it, then back to me. He took a step closer, but I was vibrating with anger and adrenaline at this point, my veins pounding under my skin, heating me up and making everything feel too tight.

"I said," he started, enunciating slowly. "I'm surprised you're still alive, considering the company you've been keeping." Gavin set his soda on the counter and stared down at me, a hard look in his eyes and a nasty smirk on his lips.

I stepped forward, glaring up at him. "You know," I said, "It's usually the people with the smallest dicks who talk the loudest. And I've never heard anyone louder than you, Gavin." That wasn't true at all, but it sounded good, and I was too angry to come up with something truly clever. I just knew he was the type to let a comment like that get to him.

And get to him it did.

His smirk morphed into a snarl in the blink of an eye, and he crowded my space. I didn't move an inch, even though he was practically twice my size and could easily beat the shit out of me. I wasn't about to let him get away with his fucked up, ignorant words. Wasn't about to let anyone talk shit about Brody, not around me.

Gavin leaned down, brown eyes glittering with menace. He snatched the front of my shirt up in one meaty fist, dragging me to my toes and sending the first wave of alarm skittering through my system. "I always knew you were a freak, too. Anyone who takes it up the ass like a?—"

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Jamie's voice cut through the tension, but it didn't dissipate. Gavin and I kept staring each other down, but he slowly released my shirt. Jamie walked into the room and pushed Gavin away from me, looking between us. "I asked what the fuck is going on? Because, Gavin, it looks like you were about to beat the shit out of my friend while spewing homophobic bullshit."

Jamie wasn't technically my friend, our friends were friends, but I didn't say that because I was too busy being grateful for his intervention. Gavin tore his eyes—eyes that were promising violence—from my face and gave Jamie the fakest smile I'd ever seen. "Nothing's going on, bro. Just two dudes having a little chat. That's all."

"No," I gritted out. "Gavin was talking shit about Brody. That's what's going on. He should keep his fucking mouth shut and maybe focus on his own shortcomings. Like his tiny dick."

"You little shit?—"

"Gavin!" Jamie shouted, and I'd never heard him so angry. "Fuck, Isaac, stop it! Gavin, get the fuck out of here before I lose my shit. And if I ever hear you say something even remotely homophobic again, I'll get your ass kicked out of this goddamn house."

"Fuck you, Jamie!" Gavin was truly enraged now, fake smile gone, any semblance of civility stripped away. "You know what, I bet you fucked him too, huh? Is that it? Isaac's your little butt boy?—"

Jamie was fast. It was surprising, considering how most of the time, he moved with a lazy ease, like time just didn't exist in his world.

But now? Now he moved so quickly that not even Gavin had time to dodge the right hook that smashed into his face with the force of a sledgehammer. Gavin stumbled back and crashed into the fridge, and then he screamed like an animal, howling out his fury as he charged toward Jamie.

I had been ready to take him on, only moments ago, and now, as I watched Jamie and Gavin tangle together, fists flying as they knocked into the counter, now I could only move out of the way. They were both big guys, but Gavin was bigger. More muscular. He looked like he was a juicer, though, and watching him slowly get the upper hand over Jamie was absolutely frightening.

There was a rush of footsteps on the stairs, and almost simultaneously, Joe and Ash, the other two guys who lived here, rushed into the room. They were both shouting as items on the countertop were knocked to the floor, one of them grabbing Gavin and the other one getting Jamie. Neither wanted to give up the fight, and I could see a nasty bruise forming on Gavin's face already. Jamie's shirt was torn at the shoulder and his nose was bleeding.

"You fucking piece of shit!" Gavin screamed, straining against Ash's hold. His eyes were wild, crazed, and his teeth were bared in a fierce snarl. "I always knew you were a fucking fag?—"

"YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" Jamie screamed.

Brody ran into the room with a stunned expression on his face. My wide eyes locked onto his immediately, and his presence sent an instant rush of relief through me. He took in the scene, his mouth parted in shock, and said, "What the fuck is going on? What happened?"

"Gavin is a fucking bigot , that's what happened!" Jamie yelled, though he'd stopped struggling against Joe's hold. Joe, who was bisexual, was staring at Gavin with his jaw set in a hard line and a disgusted sneer on his lips.

"And apparently this house is full of fa—" He didn't even get the word out before Ash sent him careening into the wall.

"You're fucking out, Gavin. Pack your shit and go." Ash's voice was steady, but his hands were tight fists and his chest was heaving. "Anyone think he should stay?"

No one said a word.

Gavin, who had smacked into the wall hard enough to shut him up for a moment, turned to look at everyone. "Fuck you. Fuck all of you. It's a fucking blizzard out there?—"

"And your dad owns a fucking snowplow. It's not even that bad out right now, just figure it out, Forster. Christ, I always knew you were an asshole but this is too far." Joe had let go of Jamie, who was pulling an ice pack out of the freezer.

"The school?—"

"Would love to know the captain of the wrestling team takes fucking steroids?" said Joe.

Gavin still had his teeth bared, was looking from one person to the next, and when his eyes landed on Brody, I bristled. But he didn't do or say anything else, just left the room.

Brody finally came over to where I stood at the far side, huddled in a corner, and pulled me into his arms. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," I said into his chest. Guilt began to seep in and eat away at me, like acid. I stepped out of Brody's arms and turned toward Jamie. "Jamie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to?—"

Jamie held up his hand. "That wasn't your fault, Isaac. We've all just been putting up with him since he moved in, but we never would have let him keep living here if we'd known he was such a piece of shit." Jamie's lips tipped up in a small smile. "You got some kick to you, huh? Hope I never piss you off. No wonder you're Jordan's favorite."

Joe and Ash were picking things up and putting them back where they belonged. Joe said, "Maybe we should just let him stay through the storm."

"And run the risk of him killing us in our sleep? I don't think so," said Ash. "Besides, his dad will get him. I've never met someone so codependent with a parent before. He was living at home until he moved in with us. His dad will take him back in a heartbeat, and be totally happy doing it."

"What do we tell the school?" Joe asked.

"That he started a fight. That he's violent and toxic. That he was a bad, bad fit here. Fuck, I can't believe people like him still exist," said Jamie. "Ignorance is one hundred percent a fucking choice."

Brody gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist, tugging lightly to get my attention. "What happened, Isaac?"

I swallowed, still feeling like it was my fault Jamie got hurt. "He was talking shit about you," I said. "So I talked shit right back, and then Jamie walked into the room?—"

"He was literally grabbing your shirt and lifting you off the ground, Isaac. He did more than talk shit. He was about to hurt you," Jamie said, his tone hard. But it was aimed at Gavin, not me. "Fuck that guy. Good on you for standing up for Brody, because that was brave as shit, but dangerous, dude. He could have hurt you."

"But he did hurt you !" I cried. "And it was my fault!"

Jamie shook his head. "Nope. That was all Gavin, and he knows it. He was roiding out. He's been popping off at all of us for no reason, so this was just the icing on the cake. You didn't do anything wrong, Isaac."

"He put his hands on you?" Brody's voice was so soft and so icy, a chill scampered down my spine. When I met his eyes, there was so much fury in those gray depths that my stomach felt like it was being squeezed.

"He didn't hurt me," I reiterated. I needed him to understand that, because he looked like he was about to go upstairs and murder Gavin. And why, oh why, did my dick start to get hard at the notion of Brody protecting my honor?

"But he put his hands on you?" Brody should not be turning me on right now. I should not be getting aroused at the abundance of fury that was sizzling in those eyes on my behalf. I shouldn't be. But I was.

"For like…two seconds," I said, swallowing thickly. "He just grabbed my shirt. That's it. Hey, can we go eat?" I had to distract him. "I'm so hungry. My lasagna was ready like ten minutes ago."

Brody's eyes bounced between mine, his mouth set in a flat line, and then he nodded stiffly. He turned to Jamie and asked, "You guys need any help up here?"

"Nah, we're good. Hey, you got an extra one of those snow brushes for your car? I can't find mine," Jamie said.

"Yeah, I'll get it for you," Brody replied. But Jamie spoke again before either of us could move.

"So are you guys, like, a thing now?" Jamie's question was casual, but it immediately made everything in my body go white-hot and then turn ice cold. Brody stilled beside me, and I looked up at him. He was staring back at me with an intense but unreadable expression that I wished for the life of me I could read.

Were we a thing? No, surely not. We were just messing around, right? Exploring? Someone like Brody would never want a…a thing with someone like me. Surely, surely not. And yet, there was a fluttering ball of hope in my chest. A delicate thing that wanted so desperately for Brody to say yes.

"I think that's up to Isaac," said Brody.

Huh? Wait, what did that even mean? Why did this all hinge on me ? Did that mean he wanted this to be a thing? Was that a roundabout way of saying yes? Or was he just sidestepping and throwing out a vague answer?

"Come on," he said before I could even open my mouth and get a single word out. I looked at him again, and fuck me, his cheeks were bright red. Brody was blushing and it was so endearing I wanted to palm the heat of his cheeks and give him a big, smacking kiss on the lips.

I grabbed my plate of lasagna from the microwave, not even bothering to reheat it, and followed Brody back downstairs. He grabbed a long snow brush from behind the pool table, told me he'd be right back, then ran it upstairs to Jamie. I sat on the couch and stared at my plate, my limbs sinking into the cushions as sudden exhaustion swept over me.

What the actual fuck had just happened? Was I really that dumb to provoke someone so much bigger and stronger than me? If Jamie hadn't walked into the room when he did, I'm pretty sure Gavin would have punched a hole right through my big mouth. But damn it, I hadn't been able to stand him talking about Brody like that. He'd be lucky if he was even half the man Brody was. Instead, he was just another shitty human being who took issue with other human beings who were simply existing.

I heard the door close, heard the snick of the lock, and then Brody was slowly walking down the stairs. He didn't stop moving until he got to the couch, where he sat back against one arm, brought one leg up and stretched it out until his foot was touching my thigh. "Come here," he said, beckoning me with open arms. I went over to him and let him grab me. He positioned me so that my back was resting on his chest, my ass over his crotch, and his long legs flanked mine. He palmed my forearms and wrapped my own arms around myself as he held them. It was the same way he'd held me at Jamie's party the first day I'd met him, and I still had the same initial reaction of feeling safe—except it had intensified a considerable amount since that day. And this time, I didn't ever want to leave his embrace or give up that safety.

I think that's up to Isaac.

Fuck, he couldn't do that to me.

His warm breath tickled my ear when he murmured, "What did he say, Isaac? To set you off?"

"He called you a freak and a serial killer. It pissed me off, Brody. Nobody gets to talk about you like that. Especially not to my face."

Brody's fingers began moving back and forth over one forearm. "People have been saying mean things about me behind my back for as long as I can remember. My whole life, it feels like. My dad, my schoolmates, people around town. I'm bad, I'm good for nothing, I'm a loser. A freak. I'm dumb as a box of rocks." He sighed. "I've known Gavin since I was in high school, and he's never been a nice person. He's always tried to start shit with me and I never let it go anywhere. I don't care what people say. None of their words matter. Because they don't matter. You know what does matter?"

He paused, and I realized he wanted an actual answer or for me to ask him what. So I did, even though my heart was aching for what he'd had to endure. I wanted to find every single person who'd ever said anything bad about him and slap them across the face. "What?"

"You. Your safety. You could've gotten seriously hurt up there, Isaac. And for what? I don't want you putting yourself in danger like that because some asshole said a few words that don't matter. Let him talk. Let them all talk. It will never change how I live my life or how the people I'm closest to treat me. Their words don't matter because they don't matter. Not to me. You matter to me. So please…just ignore it, if someone decides to say something judgmental or mean. I appreciate you sticking up for me. But I don't want you to do it if it gets you hurt. You're too important to me."

This whole day—no, this whole entire week—had been such an emotional rollercoaster. For most of my life, I didn't have a loving support system. I didn't have parents that would encourage me when I was passionate about something, scold me lovingly when I messed up, or hold me when I cried. I didn't have the kind of words that Brody was giving me over and over and over again. Filling me up, painting in the cracks, stitching up the ripped seams. He was mending me with his care. His affection. His touch. I was sinking so deep into the hold he had over me that if this ever ended, it might break me. Irrevocably.

"You matter to me, too," I whispered. "And I can't stand the thought of anyone causing you pain, either. But you're right. I should've just let it go."

"You wanna know the worst part about it all?"

"What?" I asked, hanging onto his every word.

"Your cyanide lasagna is cold."

I laughed, and he tightened his hands on my forearms. "If you don't want it, I've got a whole closet full of snacks down here. Food for months. I basically live in my very own bunker."

"Maybe we could grab some snacks and watch a movie?"

His lips pressed against the top of my head, and warmth slid down my body in a slow ripple. "I hope you like science fiction, because that's basically all I watch."

"Hmm. I'll watch anything, but I love horror. Maybe we could compromise? A good sci-fi horror?"

He chuckled, and it vibrated through my body. "Sure."

We settled on Alien , which Brody had shockingly never seen before. He got a plethora of snacks from his secret closet, and I learned that he had a super, super sweet tooth because half the stock of food was actually candy. We settled on the couch, drew the blanket over us, and turned out the lights. Draped over his body as I was, I felt every moment he tensed up, every shocked inhale, every clench of his fingers around my waist. It was the best way to watch a movie, wrapped up in Brody.

At one point, the whole house practically shook as the front door slammed, and I lifted my head to look at Brody. "That must've been Gavin leaving."

"Good riddance," was all he said.

Halfway through the movie, both of our phones went off. It was the school announcing that classes for the next day were canceled and to stand by regarding any further cancellations. The weather app was predicting the storm to hang around for two more days, which was crazy. It was mid-March, but I guess stranger things had happened. We were in northeast Pennsylvania.

When Ripley was running around looking for Jonesy, Brody's grip on me was almost painful. He didn't relax until the end credits, when I asked, "So what'd you think?"

"I think we should watch the next one."

I patted his cheek. "Good. The next one is the best one."

Brody grabbed my hand and laid his palm over it, holding me to his cheek. "I want you," he said.

"I mean, I got that part," I replied, rubbing down onto his erection. We'd both been half hard the entire movie.

He laughed and said, "No, I mean I want you for myself. I want to date you, Isaac." He licked his lips, watching my face carefully. "Go out with me."

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I was floored. I was falling so hard and fast through that ground that I was pretty sure I'd be melting into the earth's core in no time. "W-what?"

He turned his face and kissed the center of my palm, and my heart started doing crazy gymnastics in my chest. "I really like you, Isaac. From the first day I met you, I've liked you. And I know our beginning wasn't…ideal, but I just…I like being around you, I like your sense of humor, how smart you are, how even though you pretend to be hard and prickly on the outside you're just a huge softie underneath all that. And I feel like maybe you like me too?" He'd started out confident as hell, but now there was doubt in those beautiful gray eyes, in the slight hitch of his voice. "I don't know, if you don't—don't want something like that with me, that's fine, too, I just thought?—"

I slid my palm over his mouth and put him out of his misery. That little ball of hope had inflated and burst, spreading warmth through every organ. "Yeah," I breathed out. "Yes. I think—I like you, too, Brody. I just never—I didn't think you'd want someone like me like that ."

"What do you mean someone like you?" His words were a little muffled, and I moved my hand away.

"Just…you know. Someone as messed up as I am."

His brows drew together and he looked back and forth between my eyes. "You think you're messed up?"

I let my gaze fall to his throat and tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. "Yeah. Because I am. I have PTSD and even though I still go to therapy, it's not the end-all, be-all for that kind of thing. I'll always have issues. My therapist likes to say ‘There is no timestamp on trauma, Isaac,' but I hate that because I wish there fucking was . I wish it had an expiration date. I hate that what he did to me has stayed with me every single day. I hate that even after eight years, I can't escape him. It's gotten a little better, and maybe it'll continue to get better, especially knowing that he's gonna go to prison, and—god, Brody, I just…" I trailed off, too many emotions and too many thoughts buzzing through me. Of course Brody knew this about me. Of course he'd taken it into consideration when he'd asked to date me. But I still felt like…like I was less of a person because of my trauma. Like there were so many better options for him out there.

"Isaac. Look at me," he said, his fingers gently framing my chin and urging me to lift it. When our gazes collided, I was swept away by the calm gray, settled and back on solid ground. "You are an amazing human being. You are," he said fiercely when I started to shake my head. "Not only for surviving what you did, but thriving . When I look at you, I don't see your past. I don't see someone who's stuck in their own pain. I see you . I see the beautiful, kind, intelligent, mess of a person you are. You are not what happened to you, Isaac. You're just you . And when you have bad days, when you feel like you can't even get out of bed, I want to be there for you. Just like I was yesterday. And I want to know more about you. I want to learn everything. You've got me so wrapped up in you, Isaac, I think I'd do anything for you. And I want you to give me a chance to prove to you that I can be someone you can depend on. Let me take care of you, sweetheart."

Good god, this man was incredible. He would do anything for me? The feeling was mutual, I was pretty sure. I framed his face with my hands, stroking my thumbs along his cheekbones. "You've already proved that. Again and again. I think I'm the one who needs to do a little reciprocating."

Brody bit his lower lip and my eyes greedily watched. "Yeah, you're kind of a selfish lover."

I stared at his mouth for a moment longer, then gasped and sat up when his words registered. "How dare you! I've—" I closed my mouth when I realized he was right. Brody had given and given and given and I'd just sat there and taken it all, like a gluttonous asshole. "Well," I backtracked, "maybe I could stand to be a little more generous. It's just that you're so—so good at giving ."

He chuckled beneath me, sliding his hands up my thighs. "And I do love giving you whatever you want."

"Let me suck your dick," I said. I'd never done it before, but I could totally do this. I could. My palms were just sweating because it was hot down here.

His hands grasped my hips and he thrust his dick against my ass. "Will you go out with me, sweetheart? Let me take you on a date?"

I propped my hands on his pecs and squeezed. "Yes," I gasped as he kept pumping his hips up and sliding his thick length along the crease of my jeans.

"Good. You're so damn beautiful, Isaac. You're gonna look so pretty with my cock in your mouth." His voice had become huskier, his eyes a little hooded; his sexiness increased tenfold when he was aroused.

By me. I was the one making him like this.

And I fucking loved that.

His eyes were full of so much heat as he watched me slide backwards down his body. He groaned when I grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, lifting his hips to help me slide them down. When his cock was freed, I just stared at it. At the long, thick, gorgeous length of it. He was hard as steel, a vein running down one side. The head was a deep, dark red, the slit glistening with precum. I glanced up at him, and he was watching me with a hunger in his gaze that sent a flood of excitement down my spine.

"Will this be the first time you've done this, baby?" His words were soft, a murmur that drifted along the fine hairs on my body, raising them like electricity.

"Yeah," I whispered.

His lips tilted up in a smirk, and he wrapped his tattooed fingers around his cock, squeezing gently. "Good." He pointed the tip toward my mouth, my eyes drawn to the bead of precum sitting there, and said, "Come on, baby. I wanna see those pretty lips on my cock. See if you give as good as you get."

The challenge in those words sparked something feral in me, and I glared at him as I leaned down. My own dick was rock hard and straining painfully against my jeans, but that would have to wait.

I'd show him. I'd show him that I gave better than I got.