Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Corbin

What. The. Fuck. Had I done?

I was still buzzed but starting to come out of it some. Truthfully, I couldn’t even remember what had made me come over here except that I’d felt like shit, didn’t want to be alone, and something about Spencer kept me coming back for more.

Case in point. Why was I not going home to never talk to him again after all the shit I’d said? He probably thought I was a mess, and I couldn’t say he was wrong.

“My mouth tastes like shit,” I admitted.

“Fuck. I should have thought about that.” Spencer searched under the sink before pulling out an unopened toothbrush.

“Thank God for this.” You know…because my apartment was a million miles away and I had no way to get to it.

I stood, getting slightly dizzy when I did. Spencer had pushed to his feet as well, and reached out to steady me.

“I swear I don’t usually drink this much.”

“I hope not.”

“I’m gonna gain five pounds from all the sugar.”

He frowned. Words sat at the tip of his tongue. I didn’t know Spencer well, but I knew that much. Still, he didn’t set them free, just watching me as I opened the package, put toothpaste on the brush, and started dealing with my rank mouth.

“Oh God. This is better than an orgasm,” I said around a mouthful. Spencer chuckled, still standing close like he feared I would fall if he stepped back. He reminded me of Marcus that way. Declan too, actually. They were caretakers, and how Spencer was acting now told me he was one as well.

I finished brushing my teeth, then rinsed with mouthwash. I almost felt alive again, but my head was still swimming and my stomach riding a damn roller coaster. “I need my bed. I’m exhausted.”

“Come here.” Spencer walked out of the bathroom without another word. I followed as he went into the bedroom, stood beside his bed, and motioned to it.

“I’m confused.” Not about why he had asked me to come over, but why he would offer. Because he felt sorry for me, probably.

“Shut up and get into the bed, Corbin.”

Maybe a better man would’ve turned down his offer, but that guy wasn’t me. At least not today. I took my shoes off, tugged my shirt off as well, and fell onto the bed. “It’s a little hard but not too bad.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. They really were pretty eyes—mossy, or like fresh grass on a summer day. Like they were made of kindness he only let me get a glimpse of sometimes.

He stared at me, and I waited to see what he had to say. It was something. There was no doubt in my mind about that. Was he already regretting this? Wishing he didn’t have a drunk, shallow man in his bed?

“Just say it, Spencer. I’m exhausted. I need to get some sleep. If you want me to go, I’ll go, but if you keep staring at me without talking, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you to leave. I was trying to figure out how to say that I want to lie down with you without sounding like a creep.”

My heart thudded, brows pulled together. “You want to fuck me? I’m not sure now is a great time to get laid. We can revisit when I didn’t just puke my guts out. Even if I’m topping, I’m not in the mood.”

Spencer huffed in annoyance. “I’m not talking about having sex with you. I’m talking about…cuddling. I’m not sure if you’ve ever done it, but cuddling with bigger boys is nice. I know I’m not one of The Vers guys, but I’m here and I’m willing…which is a huge-ass shock to me, the same way I can tell it is to you.”

The loud thump, thump, thump of my heart made my whole body vibrate, made blood rush through my ears until I wasn’t sure I’d actually heard what I thought I had. Spencer wanted to lie down with me? To hold me? “I thought you hated me.”

Spencer sighed. “You wouldn’t be here right now if I did. I never hated you. I just…” His eyes fell closed as his words trailed off.

“Just what?” Whatever it was looked like it pained him, so I scooted over and patted the mattress beside me. Spencer didn’t speak as he climbed into bed with me, and me being the needy little cuddle slut I was, I immediately tried to wrap myself up in him. He lay on his back, then slid an arm under me. My cheek rested against his pec, and damned if I didn’t wish Spencer had taken his shirt off. I wanted to feel his skin against mine.

The tips of his fingers danced up and down my arm when he said, “We’ve met before.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, we’ve met before?”

“At a beach party freshman year of college. I was wearing a Power Rangers shirt, and you told me you liked it.”

I went stiff, the past playing like a movie in my head. I saw Spencer by the fire, remembered his shirt and talking to him and how comfortable I’d felt. How for a little while, I’d been able to forget that I wasn’t going to school with my friends anymore. Marcus hadn’t been in high school with us, so him doing his own program wasn’t unfamiliar, but it had still felt different.

“Jesus. That’s you! Why didn’t you tell me?” I tried to sit up, but Spencer tightened his hold on me so I couldn’t.

I could see what I’d missed before, the parts of him that were familiar to me, but I hadn’t known where from. But then, it was what, one evening seventeen years ago? I guessed it made sense I didn’t remember him. The guys had called my name that night, which was how he’d known mine, but he’d been by himself, so I hadn’t heard his.

“I loved talking to you at that party. I looked for you around campus afterward, but I never saw you again. Why didn’t you try to find me?” I could have used his friendship back then. I’d wanted it.

“I did.” My gut churned at the heaviness in his voice. “I went to look for you a few minutes after you left. I found you with your friends…heard them ask about me…who the fat guy was, if you were going to kiss me. They called you a chub chaser and…”

Jesus, I was going to throw up again, but this time it had nothing to do with alcohol. I couldn’t remember the exact words any of us had used, but I knew they hadn’t been good. I’d wanted to kiss Spencer that night, but I’d been an asshole, worried about what those guys would think of me if they knew. I’d cared more about fitting in and not being the kid who was mercilessly teased than about calling them out on the things they’d said about Spencer.

Christ. He was right. I was shallow. No wonder he hadn’t liked me. “Fuck,” I gritted out, and this time when I tried to pull away, Spencer let me. I sat up, back against the headboard, arms around my knees the way I’d been sitting on the floor earlier. I couldn’t meet his eyes, didn’t have it in me to see in them the pain I’d caused. “I’m so sorry.” The words weren’t enough, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“I didn’t tell you that so you’d feel bad, but I wanted to explain myself. I know you think highly of yourself, but it’s not like I’ve sat around for years dwelling on something a random guy said to me years ago. It was just interesting when I realized it was you on The Vers, and then suddenly we were neighbors. It brought things to the surface again.” Spencer sat up beside me.

I knew he’d been joking about me thinking highly of myself, trying to lighten the mood, but I didn’t feel light at all, and I wasn’t sure I deserved to. “I’m an asshole,” I said without looking at him.

“So am I sometimes. No one’s perfect.”

The past came barreling back, hitting me over and over with memories—the names I was called, the things people said to me. And not just about my weight. Back then my nose was too big and my skin wasn’t clear. How not a day went by that they didn’t tell me I was ugly, and what that did to my brain and heart. No one had stuck up for me until the Beach Bums. Knowing how it felt to be on the other end of comments, you’d think I would have been a better man and stood up for Spencer. “I should have told them you’re not fat.”

I risked a glance at him. He was frowning.

“Why? I am overweight, then a little more than I am now. I have a belly. My face is fuller. There’s nothing wrong with being fat or chubby or anything else.”

I cocked my head, studying him, trying to figure out where he was going with this. He was right, of course. I knew there was nothing wrong with being overweight. That wasn’t what I thought of when I saw him, and it wasn’t something that made him less attractive to me, but when I had looked in the mirror when I was younger, my weight, my acne, everything I’d seen as wrong about myself had been all that stood out. Why was that? Why did it matter so much when it was about me, but not when it came to others? How could I get to where Spencer was so that I didn’t care?

“It’s not the names they called me that bothered me. It’s because to them, that meant something was wrong with me, and the way you laughed with them, the tone of your voice when you said you didn’t want to kiss me, told me you felt the way they did.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My vision swam. When I swiped at my eyes, I managed to wipe away the moisture, but it felt like it was right there, ready to come out again. “I didn’t think that. I just don’t know how to be like you,” I admitted. “I…”

Shit, this was hard. I didn’t often talk about my childhood. I sure as shit didn’t tell people about it, but I wanted to share with Spencer. Or hell, maybe it wasn’t want as much as feeling I owed him an explanation.

“I was a heavy kid…not just that, but I was awkward, clumsy, with terrible skin. Kids didn’t…they didn’t make it easy on me.” Another tear sat at the end of my eyelash. I tried to blink it away, but more replaced it. “They were terrible to me. Called me every name you can think of. It was torture. I didn’t even know what it was like to have a friend until I met Marcus online…and then I made myself believe he only liked me because he couldn’t see me.”

“Shit,” Spencer cursed softly. “You don’t have to talk about this. It’s not my place to make you relive your trauma.”

No, it wasn’t, and no, I didn’t, but…but I thought maybe I wanted to. That some part of me wanted to share this with Spencer.

“I need to,” I replied. “Anyway. Marcus and I got closer. He was my whole fucking world. With him was the only time I didn’t feel ugly. I played the trombone in the marching band—my parents made me. One time I fell and caused mayhem. Jesus, I was mocked for that, but then there was Parker and Declan, befriending me, defending me. They did for me what I didn’t do for you.”

“Because you’re still trying to figure out how not to feel like that little boy who was tortured in school.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Why would he even be sitting here in his bed with me right now? “You were right when you called me shallow and said I’m perpetuating dangerous ideals for kids. I weigh myself every fucking day, Spencer. I have issues with food. I obsess over every goddamned comment on Instagram. Negative ones will make me feel like shit for days, but I keep posting because I like the attention of the positive ones. I got work done on my face, all of it so I could feel better about myself.” But really, it didn’t work. Or it did in some respects. It was confusing. I knew I was attractive. I knew people wanted me. But I shouldn’t need that attention. I shouldn’t let my worth lie in it, but I did.

“You’re not shallow, Corbin. I was wrong to say that to you, and I apologize. You’re hurt. You’re a victim of a world who puts unhealthy beauty standards on people. Did your parents…?”

“They weren’t abusive. They didn’t try to make me feel bad, but they were always trying to get me to watch what I ate. They still do.”

“Do you have an eating disorder?”

I chuckled humorlessly. “If you ask Marcus, he would say yes. I would consider it more disordered eating than eating disorder. I’m not sure what it is exactly. I’m not anorexic. I don’t binge and purge. I eat meals, but I have a poor relationship with food and my body. I consistently count calories and macros, and it’s never far from my mind.”

“Do you talk to anyone about it?”

“I’m tired,” I replied, changing the subject. “Weren’t we supposed to be doing some cuddling?” It was easier to try and focus on that right now. “Unless you changed your mind. I would understand if you did.”

“I didn’t,” Spencer replied without hesitation, and pulled me to him. He laid us down the way we had been a little while ago, his arm around me. I burrowed into his armpit some, smelling the light scent of deodorant and man. It invaded my senses, going straight to my head, comforting me in a way it probably shouldn’t. Still, while he was offering, I wiggled myself closer and breathed him in.

I threw an arm and a leg over him, Spencer allowing it, and I said, “I’m an excellent cuddler. You’re gonna get addicted.”

Spencer snickered. “Oh, am I?”

“It would be understandable if you did.”

For the second time, he danced his fingers up and down my arm. “Go to sleep, Corbin.”

“But now I kinda want to talk.”

“You’ve had a long day. Get some rest.”

“Wow…what’s with me and bossy friends?”

“You’re still talking.”

“Do you know me?” I countered, and smirked playfully. This was nice, lying here with him, joking easily as he held me.

“I’m gonna stuff something in your mouth.”

“I already told you we can’t have sex tonight.”

“You’re gonna be a handful.” I opened my mouth to joke about my cock size, but Spencer continued before I could. “Don’t say a thing about your dick.”

“I’m shocked you think I would do such a thing!” A yawn slipped out before I could hold it back.

“Go to sleep, Corbin. I promise I won’t go anywhere until you wake up.”

And that easily, my body relaxed. I hadn’t known that was what I was waiting for, but somehow, Spencer did…and for whatever reason, he was willing to give it to me.

I closed my eyes and let myself drift away.