Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Cove
To say that I was confused was an understatement. Langston had never noticed I lived here, even if we happened to sometimes pass each other in the parking garage. The man only really seemed to care about himself.
So, why was he all of a sudden here, with dinner, and holding me while I cried against his chest?
Why was he making promises that I didn’t want to believe in?
Was this another game for him? Was he going to go home later and laugh about it all?
My heart ached at the thought of all of this being nothing but a game to him.
I used to have the hugest crush on Langston until I realized he was just as big of a douchebag as everyone else.
He’d made my life hell. How many times had I contemplated suicide because of him?
How many times had I cut my wrists and my thighs because of him just so I could force my mind to focus on physical pain rather than allow it to torment me?
I leaned up and swiped at my bloodshot, tired, swollen eyes, hating that I had cried all over his chest. Why had I allowed him to comfort me after all he had done?
I really was fucked up.
He reached up and tenderly brushed his fingers over my cheeks, wiping away some of my tears. I sniffled and hiccuped. “Will you eat for me?” he asked quietly. “I made us a casserole. It’s my favorite. I’m hoping you’ll like it.”
I wasn’t hungry, and I opened my mouth to say so, but Langston shot me a look that told me the only thing he wanted to hear was yes.
Finally, I nodded and moved off his lap, my cheeks flushing when I remembered I was wearing my fuzzy onesie and clutching my bear like it was a life raft. “I, um, I’ll go change—”
“No, you won’t,” Langston pushed. I frowned down at my lap.
He hooked his finger under my chin, and my lips trembled when he lifted my head up so I was forced to meet his gorgeous, hazel eyes.
He ran his hand over my hood, not pulling it down—more like he was just feeling the fuzziness.
“I like seeing you like this, Cove, and if you’re comfortable, then don’t change a damn thing for me, you hear me? ”
I licked my lips, and his eyes snapped down, a heated look entering his eyes before he ripped them away. My breath hitched in my throat.
Was it possible that Langston wanted me as badly as I wanted him? As much as I hated it, my attraction to him had never gone away. And now that he was older and had filled out a lot more, I wanted him even more.
God, what was wrong with me?
He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “Let me get plates made.”
“Oh, I can help—”
“You’ll stay right there,” he said firmly, pressing his hand to my shoulder to keep me seated. “I can find my way around your kitchen easily enough, baby boy.” My heart raced at the name, and suddenly, I never wanted to hear him call me anything else. “Just stay seated, okay?”
I nodded and watched him as he walked away, his sweats making his ass look divine. It was perfectly round, but not so big that it made him look like he had a serious case of bubble butt.
My cheeks burning in mortification when I realized how hard I was staring, I quickly reached forward and snatched the TV remote off the coffee table, turning on one of my comfort shows: I Love Lucy.
“I love this show,” Langston said, surprising me when he stepped into the living room.
I jerked my head around to look at him, trailing my eyes over his firm body.
I took a moment to appreciate how good he looked, and my belly clenched with need, the blood rushing to my cock when I saw the imprint of his dick behind his sweats.
Gray sweatpants were both a gift and a curse.
“You do?” I asked, hating my voice came out squeaky. I needed to get a grip, but how the hell was I meant to do that when Langston looked so damn good?
He took a seat beside me and set one of the plates down on the table. I reached for it, thinking he was just back to being his rude self, but he smacked my hand away, surprising me enough to make me squeak in shock. He pulled me back to rest against his chest. “Let me feed you. Will you let me?”
I froze in shock. He brushed his hand over my chest, soothing me.
Slowly, I nodded my head. He hummed in approval, and my dick jerked in my onesie.
I was too embarrassed to reach down and cover it up, afraid I would just draw more attention to my predicament.
But at the same time, I was already mortified because it was clear I was turned on.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure I understand why you suddenly changed,” I said quietly after he’d fed me a couple of bites of food.
“I’ve always liked you, Cove,” he said quietly.
His words surprised me, considering how much of an asshole he used to be.
“I just… I wasn’t out of the closet then.
I don’t bother hiding it anymore. I haven’t come out and told anyone, but I’m sure most everyone we went to school with has figured it out by now.
” He swallowed thickly. “I know being afraid of everyone treating me like I and everyone else treated you isn’t an excuse, but that was my reason for never coming out.
And to continue fitting in, I just followed what most of everyone else was doing. ”
I squeezed my eyes shut, pain lancing through my chest. “You were a coward,” I whispered.
He wrapped the arm holding the spoon around my chest. “I know, baby. I know I was. Nothing excuses what I did to you, and I’m living with that guilt every fucking day.
I’m tearing myself up for it. But I want to make things right with you, baby boy.
I’m dying to. After seeing you today, I can’t just let things stay like they were.
I’ve got to try, even if you still end up hating me in the end. ”
I shook my head. “Hating anyone isn’t in my nature, Langston,” I told him honestly. I drew in a deep breath, reaching up to rub my hand over his hairy arm. Fuck, he was so manly. “I just feel sorry for you.”
He nuzzled my neck. “This world doesn’t deserve someone like you, Cove,” he whispered. “You’re too good, too light.”
He was saying that now. If he ever found out about what went on inside my head, he’d change his mind.
“Here—take another bite for me, baby.”
I opened my mouth, accepting the bite he fed me. Once I was done eating, he finally ate, and then, he washed my dishes, putting them away for me, not letting me do a damn thing.
It was… nice.
And then, he cuddled me on the couch, both of us watching I Love Lucy until we fell asleep.
And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I didn’t have nightmares. I slept peacefully—dreamlessly.
And as much as I hated to admit it, it was because of Langston.
Because for once, despite everything that had happened between us, he gave a fuck.
And I was so, so tired of being alone and fighting my darkness by myself.
Langston was sitting on my balcony with a steaming cup of coffee when I woke up the next morning. I stopped to admire him for a moment.
Was it really possible that he was actually here to stay?
After I’d come out as gay to my parents and my friends, I’d been shunned.
My parents said I was an abomination, and every day, they tried shoving the Bible down my throat, yelling at me for choosing to live in sin.
Everyone at school treated me like I had the plague, as if they breathed the same air I did, they’d somehow change sexualities.
It didn’t surprise me that I was clinging to the first person to show me an ounce of care and attention, even if our past was in shambles.
I’d take every bit of kindness I could in, even if it left me burning when it was all over.
The sliding door slid open, and I blinked, coming out of my head. Langston smiled at me. “You coming out here, baby boy?”
I yawned and stepped outside, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “How long have you been up?” I quietly asked him.
He shrugged. “Since my alarm went off for class. Decided to stay here with you instead after the evening you had.” He reached out and pushed some of my hair back from my face. “You have any plans today?”
I shook my head. “I’m off work.”
He frowned. “No school?”
I cringed and shook my head. “I didn’t feel like pulling out student loans.”
“Baby,” he breathed, shaking his head, “you’re so fucking smart. Why wouldn’t you go to college? Why wouldn’t your parents help you?”
My throat clogged with tears. I lurched to my feet and rushed inside, heading for my room. Langston called my name, scrambling after me, and he managed to catch my bedroom door before I could shut it. Tears streaked down my cheeks.
Years had gone by, but it never hurt any less to know that my parents were all too happy to boot me out on my ass the night I graduated.
I used what money I had to get a bus ticket to the nearest city, and I stayed in a homeless shelter for an entire month while I busted my ass at two jobs to get enough money saved up to get this apartment.
“Baby, look at me.” Langston grasped my face in his hands and forced my head up. “Look at me, baby boy.” I hiccuped, his face blurry through my tears. “What happened? What did I say? Was it your parents?”
I nodded. “They—” I hiccuped, “they kicked me out when we graduated.” I sniffled. “For being gay,” I added.
He tugged me into his arms, holding me tightly. I was pretty sure it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. He tugged me onto the bed and held me until I stopped crying.
“I’m so sorry, Cove,” he whispered, peppering kisses all over my face. “I’m so fucking sorry for every bit of hell you’ve gone through just for being man enough to be yourself.”
I sniffled, not saying anything. Langston continued holding me for a little longer, until I pushed myself up from the bed, needing a shower and a moment to get my head together. But when I stepped into the bathroom, I realized I wasn’t ready to be alone yet.
My mind flitted to my scars. Langston had already seen me cry numerous times—full breakdowns that would normally send anyone running. But he was still here.
Would he still remain if he saw the scars littering my body?
I drew in a deep breath and turned to face him, gripping the door frame with a white-knuckled grip. “Will you—um, will you shower with me?” I asked quietly. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Langston got off the bed and moved toward me, already peeling his shirt over his head. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of his broad, hairy chest and his thick arms. He didn’t have abs, but his stomach was flat, a happy trail disappearing into his sweats.
Reaching forward, he grabbed the zipper of my onesie, but he didn’t slide it down. I trembled. His eyes met mine. “Can I undress you?”
Swallowing nervously, I slowly nodded my head. He pressed a kiss to the corner of my lips and then slid the zipper down, revealing my pale, thin body to his eyes. But instead of disgust, his eyes heated with need, darkening to a greener color than hazel.
Once the onesie hit the floor, he trailed his eyes over me, pain slicing through the heat in his eyes when he took notice of the scars lingering on my thighs and forearms.
“No, baby,” he rasped, shaking his head like he didn’t want to believe what was right in front of him.
He sank to his knees in front of me and began pressing soft, gentle kisses to every single scar.
I pressed my fist to my mouth, sinking my teeth into my fingers, trying my best to suppress my sobs as I began crying again.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. Circling his arms around my waist, he pressed his forehead to my belly, tears sliding down his cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt you like this, Cove.”
I laced my fingers in his hair, my body shaking in his hold. “Please get up,” I begged him. I couldn’t take him being like this. I didn’t want him on his knees, crying for me and what I’d been through.
He shook his head. “I deserve to serve you on my knees for the rest of my life for these, baby boy.” He trailed his fingers over the raised, white scars on my wrists.
Then, he pressed a kiss to my hip, shaking his head.
“Please, please promise me you’ll let me know if you’re not feeling safe anymore, baby boy.
I need you to promise me that, Cove,” he pleaded, raising his eyes to meet mine.
I swallowed thickly before slowly nodding my head. “I promise,” I whispered.
He lowered his head back down and continued holding me, like he was afraid I’d disintegrate into nothing if he let me go.