3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

WYATT

“Stop wearing such tight pants,” Jameson grunts. He’s kneeling by my childhood bed as he struggles to undress me. It’s nearly midnight, the man half drunk, eyes unfocused even as he’s trying to take care of me. As the night continued on, Jameson stepped into the kitchen and pulled me up here. He realized all too quickly that I was over my social limit, veering on the edge of a panic attack as Reggie’s friends slipped in and out of the kitchen.

Now, I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, watching Jameson frustrate himself as he undresses me. He has always taken care of me but it’s funnier now with his lack of coordination. I tried to help a few moments ago but he just glared at me before fumbling with my belt again.

“Just give me a minute, alright?” Jameson blows out a deep breath, blinking rapidly as he stares at my cock. It thickens beneath his attention, pressing against my zipper. He cracks a small smile, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Jameson doesn’t play into his college persona often like my brother and his other friends do. I haven’t seen Jameson this drunk in years which means something is bothering him. His pale green eyes hold pain that wasn’t there a few hours ago. When Jameson reaches for the button on my jeans, I stay his hands. “Talk to me, Jay.”

His face scrunches up as he debates whether to fight my grip or listen to me. His shoulders sag as his head angles up, our eyes meeting. “I don’t want to talk about him in this room, okay? Reggie doesn’t get it. I’m not sure he ever will.”

“You don’t think he’ll ever accept us?”

“I don’t think he’ll ever understand that his brand of protection is just self-centered control. I’m afraid that he will lose you too, that he won’t understand until everyone’s gone.”

I haven’t thought about it that way. Reggie pushed Axel away. That argument was brutal. My older brother didn’t learn, though. He’s still trying to control my choices or tell me what to do. It doesn’t stick; I’m my own man but it doesn’t hurt any less when he tells me that he’s disappointed in me. I used to look up to him.

Not anymore.

And his blatant disrespect for my boundaries?

There’s only so much I can take.

Jameson slips out of my hold and continues undressing me, doing a little fist pump when he successfully drags my pants down my legs. His gaze immediately drops to the bulge in my boxers. “God, I love you, Wyatt.” His words are immediately followed with a groan as he sits back on his calves. “Fuck, I wanted that to be romantic.”

I forgot how adorable Jameson is when he’s drunk.

He uses my knees to gain purchase, admiring the tattoos covering my chest and arms. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

That’s not even a debate. I fucking love Jameson trying to wrap himself around me but tonight, I want to hold him. “Big spoon.”

“You got it. Right after I get an aspirin.”

He blinks a few times and then sighs, his entire body relaxing as if he’s shoving off the weight of the party. I lean toward the nightstand and open the drawer to sift through an old pile of pain medicine. I unearth an aspirin and swipe the water bottle from my nightstand.

I haven’t been in this room for months so there shouldn’t be anything usable in here save for the bed sheets. It takes me a few moments to realize that Jameson probably set everything up just in case, a thought cemented when my gaze snags on the nightlight plugged in by the door. I hand the aspirin to Jameson and watch him chug half the bottle before placing it back on the table.

“I love you too, James,” I say, needing him to hear it. The warm smile I get in response has butterflies flitting around my stomach as he pushes me back onto the mattress. Not soon enough he sheds his sweater and his pants, revealing the hidden figure I’ve fallen in love with. Where most of Reggie’s friends live in a gym, Jameson’s body is natural. He’s not bulked up, a little extra hugging his waist and arms.

Despite our bedroom banter, Jameson is fucking adorable.

It might be a weird thing to think, the man being four years older than me but even his smile is precious.

He slips into bed after me, snuggling up against my chest. Then he flips over and pushes his ass against my cock before dragging my arm around his waist. “I’ll fuck you in the morning, babe.” A few seconds later, I hear his light snore.

Classic Jameson.

To anyone else, he might seem inconsiderate but Jameson knows that his presence is everything I need. It helps keep the nightmares at bay, my gaze falling on the night light once again. It’s a little grenade, neon green light shining from it.

It’s the small things that make me fall deeper in love with the man currently pressed against my chest. The things that nobody sees or understands. None of this will ever make sense to Reggie.

But I can’t let Jameson go.

I just have to work up the courage to say it in public.