14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Beck

W atching the way Roman reacts to my care and praise stirs something deep inside me. I love this man. I’m not going to let his shithole of a father ever hurt him again. And I’ve decided to make it my personal mission to shower him with as much love and praise as I can. It’s clear he needs it, and I have no problem making sure he gets it.

He sighs and snuggles closer to me, and within minutes, he’s asleep. His body is lax, his breathing slow and even. Holy shit, this has been a crazy day. I knew my mom and dad would be okay with him staying here, but I am a little shocked that they were okay with him staying in my room. Sure, I’m an adult and so is Roman, but still. It’s under their roof, so I assumed this wouldn’t even be a possibility. I know that I owe them more information than what they got. I also know their main priority, like mine, was making sure that Roman was safe and okay. Well, as okay as he could be, given the circumstances.

After a few more minutes of holding him, I decide that it’s time to get up and talk to Mom and Dad. I carefully and slowly untangle myself from his side. He grumbles a bit in his sleep but doesn’t wake up. I walk quietly out of the room, glancing back at him one more time, before heading back toward the living room.

As soon as I step into the room and my mom looks at me, I crack. Tears well up in my eyes and spill over. “Oh, baby, come here,” she says, and I stumble across the room, collapsing into her arms like a small child. I wasn’t coming here for this. I was coming here to talk to her about Roman and what I found out, but I don’t have it in me right now. I just need my mom.

“It’s been a hard day, huh?” she says as she rubs my back. The motion is soothing, but it makes me cry harder.

“I was worried. He wasn’t answering my texts, and I called Riley, and she said to trust my gut. I got there, and it was so bad. The house is falling apart. There’s mold in there, and so many empty whiskey bottles. His dad was passed out in bed. Roman has a deadbolt on his door, Mom. A deadbolt. He told me this has been going on since he was a kid.” My voice cracks, and I dissolve into sobs.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay. You got him out of there. He’ll be safe with us.”

“I love him,” I choke out, my throat threatening to close up on me.

“We know, honey,” Mom whispers, rocking me gently back and forth in her arms. Even though I tower over her, I somehow still fit perfectly here. God, I really needed this.

“He was terrified of me, Mom,” I cry. “I went to touch his face when I first got to him, and he jerked away. I don’t want him to be afraid of me.”

Mom hums softly, but it’s Dad that speaks up. “He’s not scared of you, Beck. He’s just scared. It happens to many trauma victims, especially those who have suffered physical abuse. It’s not you, like it wasn’t me. When you came out here, how was he?”

I sniffle and turn my head to look at him. “He was sleeping. I helped him change and tucked him in bed and held him, and he fell asleep within minutes.”

Dad smiles softly at me. “See, he’s not scared of you. He trusts you, Beck. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come with you. He wouldn’t have trusted you to tell you what he’s been going through, and he definitely wouldn’t have fallen asleep in your arms.”

I nod, finally calming down some. I pull myself free of Mom’s hold and sit beside her on the couch. “Thank you. Thank you for looking him over. I didn’t even think about getting him checked out, or giving him medicine,” I choke out, more tears filling my eyes as I think about all the ways I failed him today. “I have a nurse for a mom and didn’t even think, ‘oh wow, this may need medical attention.’” I shake my head in irritation at myself.

“He’s okay, Beck,” Mom says softly. “He’s going to hurt for a few days. But his bruises will fade, and his mind will start to recover.”

“What if he doesn’t want to stay here, then? I’m so scared of losing him.” I gasp, my fear making it hard to breathe.

Dad takes that one. “Beck, that boy is crazy about you. Anyone with eyes can see that. Don’t let your worries get to you.”

I sniffle and nod, wiping the back of my hand across my nose like a five-year-old. Mom smiles at me, and Dad chuckles. “Been a long time since we’ve had to console a crying Beck,” Mom says.

She’s not wrong. I hardly ever get upset or cry. “It’s been a hard day.”

She nods. “It sure has. It’s getting late, love. Why don’t you head back to bed and try to get some rest? Go back to Roman and hold him. I think being in his presence will help you calm down some. Plus, I think he’ll be upset if he wakes up and you’re not there.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, standing up and hugging first Mom, then Dad. “Thank you guys for letting him stay here. And thank you for letting me have my little freak out.”

“Of course, Beck,” Dad says. “You know we’re always here for you whenever you need us. And him too. Your mom would already have adoption papers drawn up if it wouldn’t make you two adopted brothers,” Dad jokes.

I scrunch my nose up, and Mom and I both start laughing. “Yeah, we don’t need that,” I say, thankful for the levity, relieved that they’re so willing to immediately accept him into our home and family.

“I love you guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“We love you too, honey,” Mom calls after me, but I’m already heading back down the hallway, desperate to have Roman back in my line of sight.

When I walk into the room, he’s still asleep. But he’s shifted, so he’s laying on his other side, facing away from my side of the bed. Tiny little snores echo through the room, and I smile, so thankful that he’s here and safe. I climb back into bed with him and, like he senses I’m there, he rolls toward me and snuggles back into my body. I let the warmth of his skin and the steady sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.

When I wake up, Roman is still nestled into my side. I roll over to check the time.

“Hey, Roman,” I whisper, shaking him gently to wake him up. He stirs a bit, but mostly sleeps through it. “Beautiful,” I try again, shaking him a little harder, but still gently enough that I won’t agitate his wounds.

He wakes a bit, peering at me through sleep-drenched eyes. “I have to go to work,” he says. And I nod. I already knew that.

“Do you want to call in? I can call Mia for you.”

He shakes his head and yawns. “No, I need to go. It will help me feel more normal. Plus, they’ve always been good to me. I don’t want to leave them hanging.”

“I get that. Did you sleep okay?” I ask as I look down at him. The bruising on his face looks terrible, but the swelling has gone down a lot.

His cheeks pink up a bit, and he smiles at me. “I really did. Better than I have in a long time.”

“I’m glad,” I say before rolling out of bed. “Wanna shower? I can get your clothes together.”

He cocks his head at me in confusion. “I can get my own clothes, Beck. I have been getting myself ready for work for a couple of years now.”

I lean across him and press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back. “I know you have, but like we established last night—I enjoy taking care of you, and you like it too. So please let me.”

The pink on his cheeks darkens, and he rolls his eyes, but he nods. “I feel a lot better today. I think talking to you yesterday purged a lot of the bad feelings. I’ve never told anyone anything about my childhood.”

I’m not sure that I’d classify it as his childhood, since it’s still happening, but I’m glad he feels better. “Good. I’m here for anything you need. I need to call Riley. I called her yesterday before I came to your house because I was so worried, and I still haven’t gotten back to her. I’m sure she’s going crazy. How much, if any, are you okay with me telling her?”

He gets a contemplative look on his face, like he’s not sure how he really feels about it, and after a few moments, he says, “I like Riley.” After a deep breath and a hard swallow, he meets my eyes. “You can tell her the truth if you want. As long as you don’t think she’s going to treat me differently. I don’t want her fussing over me.”

I laugh. “Oh, you mean like I’ve been fussing over you?”

Cue more adorable blushing. “I like when you fuss over me,” he admits in a whisper.

I smile, and can’t resist leaning down to kiss him again, slow and sweet, taking my time exploring his lush mouth. He lets out a breathy sigh against my lips as I pull away from him.

“Okay, beautiful, time to get ready. You hop in the shower, and I’ll get your clothes.”

He nods, looking a little dazed. And yep, I could spend the rest of my life waking up like this.

“In my backpack’s front zipper, I have some concealer. Can you please grab it too?” I nod. I hate that he even needs it, but I’m really hopeful that it’ll be the last time he has to cover bruises.

“I’ll also get you some more medicine to take before you go,” I add, still irritated with myself for not thinking of that yesterday.

He nods and flings the blankets off himself, then stands. My throat goes a little dry at the sight of his exposed chest, but then my eyes settle on his bruised side. I drop my gaze, angry and ashamed of myself for ogling him when he’s going through this.

“Hey, Beck,” he says, and I force my eyes to his. “Remember yesterday when I said I wasn’t a victim you had to feel sorry for?” I nod, and he continues. “I meant that. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you don’t stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me, this is never going to work. I need to know you see me as more than this,” he says, gesturing to the bruising on his side.

He’s right. That was literally his biggest sticking point yesterday. He said, “I’m more than this,” and he’s so right. He is. I step toward him and cup his face gently in my hands, avoiding the bruising, and press my mouth to his, fire igniting in my blood instantly. He moans against my lips, and reaches up to grip my hips, his hard cock grinding against mine as our mouths move and our tongues tangle.

He pulls back reluctantly and kisses the tip of my nose. “I need to get ready for work.”

I nod dumbly, and watch as he walks toward the door. My eyes trail down the muscles of his back and land on his round ass as he walks into the hallway. I drag my eyes from the empty doorway and start getting his clothes together, pulling out the black t-shirt he often wears to the bakery and a pair of jeans, along with clean underwear and his concealer. The bottle looks well-used, the sight of it reminding me that this is not even close to the first time that Roman has had to cover bruises. The thought makes me a little nauseous, so I sit on the edge of the bed, the bottle clutched tightly in my hand, and breathe through my nose, trying to stem the urge to vomit. When I’ve finally managed to calm myself down, I stand, gathering his things, and walk out of my room toward the bathroom.

As I open the door to the bathroom, the sight of his naked body under the spray of water stops me in my tracks. I’ve never seen him naked before. My mouth goes dry as my eyes track his form from head to toe. He turns his head and spots me. I don’t know what he sees on my face, but it must be good because his eyes light up, and he smirks at me. I blink a couple of times and watch, transfixed, as he turns toward me, fully exposing his body. Long lines of lean muscles are on display, his half hard cock swaying between his legs.

I blindly set the clothes down, and my feet carry me to him without thought. He pulls the door open a crack. “Do you want to join me?”

I find myself nodding and pulling my clothes off before I even realize I’ve made the choice, his eyes raking over me as I reveal myself to him. When I’m fully naked, I pull the door back further and step into the shower. The hot spray of the water, and the proximity to his body, makes my cock swell and goosebumps rise on my skin.

His voice cuts through the sound of the water. “God, Beck. You are gorgeous.”

He drops his lips to mine, and my knees almost give out on me. God, I love kissing him. I slip my tongue into his mouth, and he groans around it, the sound shooting to my already hard cock and making it throb. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me to him, a moan escaping my lips when our bodies connect. Our cocks press against each other and the wet, slippery slide of the water makes everything feel so much more intense. He rolls his hips, and we both groan as his cock rubs along mine. I reach over to pump some body wash into my hand, and then wrap us both up in my slippery fist. He lets out a choked sound against my lips and kisses me harder, nipping my bottom lip as his hips thrust into my hand. I stroke us slowly, the sounds of Roman’s moans and whimpers spurring me on. I’m so close.

Will I ever be able to last longer than a few minutes with this man? I don’t even have time to be embarrassed about my stamina because Roman’s hips stutter and I feel his cum hitting my chest. I follow him over the edge immediately, tearing my mouth from his as moans fall from my throat, my body shaking and shivering through my orgasm. I continue stroking us both until we’re soft and overstimulated.

I release my grip on us, and he’s staring down at our cocks, his chest heaving with his breaths. “You felt so good,” I say, and his eyes dart up to mine, lighting up at my words. It seems Roman really likes my praise. I touch my hand to his cheek and kiss him softly, slotting my body against his. “So perfect for me, aren’t you?” He groans, and his cock twitches against mine. Holy shit. He really likes my praise. I’m definitely going to play with that later.