36. Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Beck

I wake long before my alarm goes off, my body wrapped around a warm, sleeping Roman, my throbbing cock nestled against his ass. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. He makes a soft, whiny sound in his throat, pushing his hips back against me. I know it’s terrible of me, but I can’t help wondering how he would feel about sex-adjacent, early morning frotting.

He stirs a bit, turning in his sleep. Plastering his body against me, he throws a leg over my hip and nestles his cock against mine. I bite my lip, resisting the urge to thrust against him. Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but we aren’t those people anymore. The thought of doing anything he doesn’t like or want makes me anxious, so I force myself to stay still.

It’s no hardship, really—not when I get to take in his peaceful, sleeping face. His long lashes are fanned across his cheeks and his lips are slightly parted. My eyes zero in on the scar above his eye. I’ve tried really hard to pretend it isn’t there, but we’ll eventually need to talk about it. His nose crinkles a bit, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before smoothing again.

Watching him like this, so relaxed, the soft early morning sun bathing his face, makes my fingers itch to draw. It’s an urge I can’t resist. Once it pops into my mind, I can’t shove it from my thoughts. I carefully pull myself from his hold. He grumbles a bit, but doesn’t wake up. Moving slowly so as not to wake him, I reach over to my nightstand and pull out my lone sketchbook and a pencil. My heart is pounding an unsteady rhythm, my stomach twisting nervously.

The moment my pencil touches the page, it’s like the ten years I’ve spent not drawing disappear. I sketch him, taking my time, glancing at his sleeping face every so often to make sure I get the details right. When I’m nearly done, I glance at him one last time to find his sleepy brown eyes open and settled on mine. I jump a little, not expecting him to be awake. A smile spreads across his face, and I can feel my lips tilting up in a smile of their own. “Did you sleep okay?”

He nods. “I’ve been awake for a while, but I didn’t want to disturb you. Can I see?”

I glance down at the sketch. It’s not as good as they used to be—my hand is out of practice—but I turn the sketchbook toward him anyway. His eyes scan the page, taking it all in, a soft smile playing on his lips. When his eyes settle on mine, I set the sketchbook behind me, then lean in to kiss him.

The first touch of our lips sends a shockwave through my body. We kiss languidly, like we have all the time in the world. For once, it feels like we do. It’s mind-numbingly good. Roman lets out a breathy whimper against my lips, his hips rocking toward mine. Desire surges through me, sending little shockwaves along my skin. I deepen the kiss, rolling him to his back and pressing my body against his. He arches up, making small, desperate moves beneath me, the pressure of his cock on mine making me see stars. Fuck, I forgot how good I could feel. This is nothing like the muted, unsatisfying experiences I’m used to having. It feels new. Exhilarating. It feels… “Fucking perfect,” I whisper against his lips. He groans, his hands coming up to grab my ass, forcing my hips to move against his.

As much as I love this, I know it’s not what he wants. Every fiber of my being protests, but I muster all the strength I have and break our kiss before rolling to my back beside him. He glares at me. “Why’d you stop?”

I shrug, trying to act unaffected. “You don’t want to have sex yet. I want to be respectful.”

He studies me for a moment. “Okay, but what happened to sex-adjacent?”

I laugh at how much his words mirror my own thoughts from earlier. This moment feels so much lighter and happier than the other day. He was right—waiting makes this feel so much better. Having that little bit of trust earned back has made all the difference. “You were right. Waiting was the right thing to do.”

His face falls a little. “So no sex-adjacent today, then?” The adorable look of disappointment in his eyes is almost too much to handle.

I roll back on top of him, blanketing him with my body. “Now, let’s not be too hasty. I never said I didn’t want sex-adjacent, only that it was a good idea to wait.”

His breath hitches as I press kisses along his jaw, and he tilts his head back to give me better access. I’m basically starving for the taste of him, so I take full advantage—trailing my lips down his neck, sucking lightly on his pulse point. “Uh-huh,” he moans, breathless, as I nip at his skin. “You’re not going to make me wait now, though, are you? I didn’t make you wait.”

I let out a startled laugh. I can’t believe I’ve gone so long without this. This levity. This fun . This is what sex, and even sex-adjacent, should be like. “No, I’m not going to make you wait. But, if it’s all the same, I don’t think I’m ready for penetrative sex. It’s nothing you did or didn’t do. It’s… I’m not sure if I trust myself yet.” And that’s the truth. I don’t think I know how to be like I used to, and the thought of trying fills me with so much anxiety that it’s hard to breathe.

“Anything you want or don’t want is fine. I’m just happy to be here with you. What we spend the time doing doesn’t much matter to me.”

His words steal my breath and my restraint. I cover his mouth with mine, kissing him deeply as my hips start to rock against his. He grips my hair with both hands, moaning into my mouth as our cocks rub together through our boxers. The pleasure is mind-blowing, but it’s not solely the physical act—it’s him . Everything about him—the scent of his skin, slightly sweet, the warmth of his body, the way his breath catches when I thrust just right, the soft moans he lets out, and the way his fingers tighten in my hair when I brush my tongue over his.

For years, I’ve been chasing this high, this feeling, hating myself the whole way. It’s laughable to think I could find this with anyone else—it’s him. It’s always been him.

I pull back to catch my breath, burying my face against his throat. His whimpers are driving me fucking mad. It should be against the law to sound like that. “Uh, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips to meet mine, moving perfectly with me. The euphoria coursing through me builds, overwhelming me to the point that I can’t hold back anymore. My muscles tense, and my orgasm rips through me, my cock pulsing hard as I gasp against the sweat- slicked skin of his throat. He cries out, tugging at my hair, the bite of pain amplifying the feelings coursing through me. God, I could weep at how good this feels.

I lift my head, unable to stop myself from kissing him again. Our kisses are sloppy and uncoordinated, like we’re drunk off the intensity of what we just shared. It’s perfect. So fucking perfect.

My alarm blares, shattering the moment, and Roman groans. I pull back from him, chuckling at his irritation. I roll to the side, reaching over to shut off my alarm. “Wanna shower together?”

He grins. “I could be persuaded.”

I drop another kiss to his lips before getting out of bed. Holy hell, I feel like a million bucks. I got even less sleep than I usually do, and yet I feel more rested than I have in years. Roman watches me as I gather my clothes for work and pull out something for him to wear home. By the time I’m ready, he’s standing quietly, waiting for me. “Ready?”

He nods, then follows me to the bathroom. My shower is much bigger than the one we used to share, but it doesn’t really matter because the second we strip off our soiled boxers and step under the hot water, he’s pulling me into his arms. A full-body shiver works itself through me at the contact. We simply stand there, holding each other for a while.

Eventually, he steps back. As I wash my hair, he does the same, a contemplative look on his face. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when he smiles. “So, what’s up with Riley?” The question seems lighthearted at first, but then his smile drops. “Does she hate me?”

I laugh. “No, she doesn’t hate you. In fact, just recently I asked her why she didn’t. I was whining about it. And she said it’s because I don’t hate you, so she couldn’t either. Perceptive asshole.” I do need to call her today. I haven’t talked to her about Roman at all since the day he came in and got stitches the first time I saw him. I know she’s going to be insufferable, and I’ve been putting it off. I folded like a cheap suit, just like she knew I would, and I’m not at all prepared to eat crow.

“Does she still live here?”

“No. She comes back to visit, but after school, she never moved back.”

“Oh,” he says, a little crestfallen.

“Hey, I’m sure she’ll come visit soon. It’s about that time of the year, anyway.”

“What? No. It’s not that. It’s… I left, and then she did, and you were alone.”

The truth of his words hit hard, causing a pang to echo through my heart. It wasn’t only because Riley didn’t move back, of course. I was hurt. So hurt, in fact, that I closed myself off to people. I didn’t let anyone in. Hell, I still don’t. But this is not about that. It’s time for growth and new starts, so I push those feelings down. “You were alone too.”

He gives me a sad smile. “For a minute, sure. But then I had Holden.”

Ugh, don’t remind me. No. Nope. Not doing that. Holden and I are going to have to turn over a new leaf. He’s Roman’s best friend, and that means we have to get along. I’ve got to get my shit together when it comes to that little chaos twink.

“It’s okay, Roman. It’s in the past. We’d agreed to let that go, yes?” He nods. I take a deep breath, not wanting to do this at all, but knowing I need to. “I hate bringing this up after we’ve had such a perfect morning, but what exactly happened that last day?”

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he sighs. Grabbing the body wash, he gets a good lather in his hands, shocking me when he starts washing me instead of himself. He looks like he’s disassociating as he works the lather into my neck, then down my shoulders. “Well, I was feeling bad. Guilty, because I hadn’t checked on Dad. So I decided to go. He was never mean to me when he wasn’t drinking. I figured it would be fine, that I’d be there and back before you even got home.”

His fingers brush over my nipples as he washes my chest. Under normal circumstances, his touch would be driving me out of my mind, but that’s not the case right now. I can’t focus on anything but the distant look in his eyes, the downturn of his pretty lips. “It was my fault,” he whispers.

“No, it wasn’t your fault.” Ten years, and he’s still blaming this on himself.

“It was, though. Or at least, that’s how it felt. He was drinking when I walked in. I asked where he got it. He said his closet—from a shoebox. I checked the closet, Beck. I remember looking at the box, thinking I should check inside. But I didn’t. I was tired of going through his shit. I wanted to go home. I was selfish, only thinking about my own wants and needs, not even considering how it might affect his sobriety.”

I gently grab his chin, tilting his face until he’s forced to lock eyes with me. His soapy hands are frozen on my chest. I stare into his eyes. “You were not selfish.” He doesn’t look like he believes me, but I push on anyway. “We all knew that relapse was a risk. We did what we could, but in the end, his choice was his. Even if you had found that bottle, he could have easily gotten another. He wanted to drink. He found a way. Period.”

He nods. “Yeah, I know that logically. Alexis and I have talked about it many times. It’s hard, though, to remind myself of that. But anyway, he was drunk. He started talking shit about you and your dad. I yelled at him. That was the wrong choice. He, um—” His voice cuts off rapidly, and he swallows hard as his face pales. “He grabbed me by the back of the head and slammed my face into the table, multiple times.”

I drag in a breath, suddenly not sure if I want to hear this. “I was confused. My nose hurt really bad and there was blood in my mouth, and I could barely see out of my right eye. I’m almost positive I passed out. I remember waking up on the floor, confused and hurting. I was ashamed. I felt like I had brought it on myself. Like, if I had just listened to you, I would be okay.”

My chest aches listening to him talk about it, my heart pounding unsteadily. I want to pull him into my arms, hold him there forever. I wish I could go back in time, convince him to come home to me. Hell, convince him to never go to his dad’s in the first place.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly, not really. I knew I needed help, but I knew I couldn’t go to you, that you’d be mad at me. You’d hate for me breaking my promise and getting myself hurt. I remember thinking that my dad was right. That I didn’t deserve you. You only ever asked one single thing of me, and I betrayed you. I went against your wishes and I got hurt because of it.”

The dejection in his voice has pain spiraling through my body, and I can’t take it anymore. I pull him into my arms, crushing him to me, tears burning my eyes. “Fuck, beautiful. I could never hate you. I wish you had called me. I wish you had come home. Your dad wasn’t right. He was never, ever right.” My voice cracks, my chest hitching against his. It’s hard to be mad about him leaving when he was fighting against a lifetime of abuse and conditioning that told him he wasn’t worth anything. I did my best, but there was no way for me to erase that for him or help him truly heal from it. Fuck, we were just kids. I didn’t know how to help him. Not really. I tried. I really did. But he had to heal himself. I couldn’t do it for him.

I try hard to hold back my tears, but it’s impossible. And honestly, why should I? It fucking sucks. It sucks that he left. It sucks that he felt like he didn’t deserve to come back to me. It all fucking sucks. But it doesn’t have to anymore. He’s right here. Safe. Back in my arms where he belongs. Roman’s soft sobs echo through the room as he trembles against my body. My own join his and we cry with each other. I have no idea how much time has passed when he finally pulls back with a loud sniffle.

He clears his throat. “So I… I left. Found a hospital over three hours away, gave them a fake name.” That would explain why Dad couldn’t find him in any of the nearby hospitals. “I have no idea how I even managed to make it there. He fractured my orbital bone. By the time I made it to the hospital, it was so swollen I couldn’t see out of it. They had to do surgery to repair it. I suffered a concussion as well. I was in the hospital for almost three weeks.” He shrugs, his gaze lowering to the floor. “I’m sorry. I should have come home. I should have known that you would take care of everything. It’s my biggest regret.”

I pull him back into my arms, fresh tears streaming down my face. “I forgive you, beautiful.” He lets out a harsh sob, and I rock him gently back and forth as we cry together until the water runs cold. Begrudgingly, I reach past him to turn it off. “I have to get ready. I’ll be late if I don’t.” Hell, I may be late anyway. I have no idea how long we’ve been in here, but I know there was no way in hell I was going to interrupt his story. He needed that. Fuck, I needed that.

When we’re out of the shower and dry, we brush our teeth side by side. My stomach is doing little flips at the domestic feel of it. It might have taken him ten years, but fuck am I so glad he came home to me.

On the way to work, I call Riley.

“So, I was right, huh?” she asks instead of saying hello.

A groan rumbles in my chest. Jesus Christ, she’s so annoying. But also right. Ugh. “Yes, you were right. Are you happy?”

Her musical laughter fills my ears. “I’m happy if you are. Are you happy, Beck?”

I sigh. “So fucking happy, Ri. He wrote me these little notes and sent them to work with Holden, and I hated it. But I loved it. Then he stopped, and I was kinda freaking out. But then he came into the hospital and brought me flowers and beef jerky.”

“Oh no, not beef jerky,” she gasps. “That’s your kryptonite.”

I laugh. “Ugh, shut up.”

“Real talk, though. I’m happy for you. I need to come for a visit soon. Put my eyes on Ro for myself and meet this infamous twink who got my best friend so tore up he couldn’t stand himself.”

“Hey! I’m working on it, okay? It’s hard. It’s not that I don’t like him. He’s a nice guy, an excellent nurse, but he…” My voice trails off, and I swallow hard, trying to push down the emotion. “He knows Roman so much better than I do, Ri. It’s going to be hard to get used to. Especially because when Roman needs something, he always seems to turn to Holden, and not me.”

“Beck, you know I love you, right? Of course you do. So I’m going to hit you with some tough love. Can you really blame him for that? It sounds like Holden has been his constant.” But I wanted to be his constant. “And before you get in a tizzy about that, really think about it. I’ve been your constant for damn near our entire lives. Do you think it’s fair that Roman doesn’t get to have that solely because he met Holden after you and not before?”

Of course not. That would be shitty of me. “Ugh, I hate when you’re right. Like I said, I’m working on it.” She doesn’t say anything, and I can almost hear her judgement through the phone. Ugh. “Hey, at least the jealousy doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out anymore. That’s a start, right?”

Her startled laughter brings a smile to my face. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to have to meet this guy. He must be something else if he’s got you so tore up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, a little offended.

“It means that he must be some twink to have you questioning yourself. I mean, surely you know that you’re like way hot, right?”

Heat floods my cheeks, but I laugh. “It’s not about his appearance, Riley. Jesus Christ. It’s his closeness with Roman.”

She hums. “Not sure I believe that. What does he look like?”

I groan. She is such a fucking menace. “He’s short. Wavy dark brown hair, not quite black but close. He’s got the most piercing green eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. And he’s always wearing eyeliner. Sometimes lip gloss. Usually both.”

Riley laughs. “He sounds adorable. Surely if they wanted to be together they would be already, yeah? Besides, he doesn’t sound like Ro’s type at all.”

“Like I said, I’m working on it. It’s just going to take some time,” I reiterate.

“I know. I’m proud of you. I know Roman really hurt you. It took a lot of guts to hear him out and let him try to make things right.”

She’s not wrong. It was nerve-wracking, terrifying, and honestly a little heartbreaking—okay, maybe a lot heartbreaking. But… “I’m really glad I did, Ri. Everything’s better with him. It always has been. I even sketched this morning. It wasn’t great, since I’m so out of practice, but it was like a piece of myself slotted back into place.”

She sighs. “Ugh. Swoon. Anyway, I have to run. But call me later. I’ll plan a trip out there soon.”

“Okay, Ri. Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

When I pull into the hospital, my phone buzzes with a text message.

Roman

Can I take you on a date tomorrow after your shift?

I smile at my phone, feeling very much like the eighteen-year-old I was when I fell in love with this amazing man.

Me

I’d love that. What did you have in mind?

Roman

It’s a surprise ;)

I laugh, happiness swelling in my chest.

Me

Anything with you will be perfect.

Roman

My thoughts exactly. Have a great day at work. I’ll pick you up at 9pm.