Chapter 19 Archangel
NINETEEN
ARCHANGEL
Wolfe is snoring lightly when I open his door. I’m just glad it wasn’t locked, and I didn’t have to knock. I step into his room and freeze. It feels wrong to wake him up to have this conversation, so I linger by the door, feeling a little like Edward watching Bella sleep.
“Do you get off on watching me, or are you debating killing me?” Wolfe mutters, making me laugh.
I cross to sit on the edge of his bed, my skin prickling and my heart racing. “I was hoping you’d still be awake, but when you weren’t, I didn’t know if I should wake you.” I don’t know why I decided to be honest, but I think we both need it.
“You opening the door woke me.” His words are careful, reminding me that he’ll always be on high alert while sleeping.
“I’m sorry.” I pull one knee into my chest, turning more to face him.
“I’m used to it. I sleep much better than I used to after years of living with you.” He’s soft and sleepy, hair all tussled in the soft glow of his nightlight. It’s still the one I bought him when he moved in with me.
“I’m glad. You deserve that.”
He reaches out for me. “Come lay down.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I give in because I’m tired and overthinking. I face him on my side but keep myself from touching him. “Better?”
“A little.” He almost smiles. “Why are you still up?”
I explain that I drove Seaborn home and what’s going on.
“Why did that make you need to talk to me?” He always sees right through me.
I know I have to rip the Band-Aid off, but I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to lose him. “I hate the space between us. Him and I talked about it a little, and I don’t want it to get worse.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
My chest aches. How did this get so messed up?
“How can I fix it?”
He picks up his head. “Stop putting space between us.”
I cringe, but I guess I deserve it. I’m trying to protect myself, but he doesn’t fucking know that. “I’m not meaning to.”
“I know, but it sucks.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I can deal with all the frustrations that come along with this if I have you, but not both.” He blows out a breath and looks into my eyes.
“What do you mean? Are you getting a lot of shit from the guys? Did Ridgeway say something?” Now I’m pissed.
His brows pulls, and his eyes darken, and I brace myself for what he’s about to say. “No, it’s not about Ridgeway. He’s—it’s not that. It’s…” Wolfe’s frown deepens.
“What is it?”
“I haven’t touched anyone else in months, and you won’t get near me. I have no fucking comfort. No physical contact. If you and I were the same, it would be different.”
I chew my lip and consider his words before I speak. “Are you regretting this?”
“I don’t know.” His tone kills me. “I hate that it’s fucked us up.”
I deserve all of it, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. “Do you want to go back to sleeping with other people?”
He growls, flopping over to his back. “No, I want you to treat me like you used to.”
“I can try.” I tentatively reach between us, skimming my fingers over his stomach.
He turns toward me, but doesn’t move, letting me lead. My chest cracks open as I scoot closer, wanting so badly for this to be reality and not just comforting a friend.
I lay my head on his shoulder and tuck my arm around him, settling in and praying I don’t get hard. He exhales, tense body relaxing, which warms me through. “This better?”
He nods. “Much.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to sleeping with people? Even if it’s on the down low.”
He grabs my chin tilting my face up. “No.”
My skin ignites where he touches. “It would be easier—”
Wolfe cuts me off. “I don’t want easy, and guys on the team already know. How would that look?”
“True, but I know how much not getting laid sucks.”
Wolfe doesn’t release my face but doesn’t speak for a long moment. “Do you want to?”
“I mean, I’d love to get laid, but I do not fuck near as much as you do, so I’m good.”
He narrows his eyes, half rolling into me, big hand sliding over my tee and around to the middle of my back, bringing us face to face. “Bull shit.”
“Are you kidding? There aren’t as many gay men in all of Manhattan as there are puck bunnies who would sell their souls to be with you. It’s pure numbers!” I laugh, unable to help myself.
He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Fuck off. Not my fault there are way more women than gay men!”
“I never said it was your fault, just facts, which makes it much easier for me to go without than you. Are you sure you can handle it?” I give him just a hint of attitude.
“I’ve been handling it. Sure, I might have already jacked myself raw, but this is the longest I’ve gone without getting laid since I was a virgin!” He’s all proud of himself, which is cuter than it should be, but I’m focused on one part of his statement.
“Raw?” I glance between us, unable to help myself.
“I don’t want to talk about it or filling my need to be touched with my own hand.” Wolfe turns his head away from me but keeps a hold of my shirt, preventing me from leaving.
I hate that he feels like he has to hold on to me, but I guess I deserve it.
“I’m here.”
“We’ll see,” he throws back.
I visibly wince, and he softens. “I promise I won’t go back.
” As much as it will kill me. I don’t want him to be hurting.
At least until after the wedding, and then we can break up or whatever, and he can enjoy all the new puck bunnies in whatever city he ends up drafted to. At least I won’t have to watch.
“Thank you.” More tension bleeds out of his body. “I’m going to order a flesh light or something. My poor dick can’t handle all the abuse.”
I’m half hard before I can think of anything else or even try to stop it. I’m so glad my hips are not pressed into him; it would be exceedingly obvious in these sweatpants. “Do you need to, like, get a massage with a happy ending?” I say, only half joking.
His mouth drops open, and he looks offended.
I’m not sure which part did it, so I wait for him to speak.
“And you’re worried people will find out about me being gay but not about sleeping with sex workers?”
“Straight people would probably be a lot more okay with the sex worker part than the gay part, let’s be honest, but I guess you have a point.”
“I do. And I just couldn’t get off like that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with sex work.” I feel a lecture coming on if he has anything bad to say.
But he goes a direction I wasn’t expecting. “I know, but I can’t get into it if the person isn’t into me. I want it to be mutual, not one-sided. That’s what I get off on. I like making people feel good.”
My cock is fully bricked, and the images in my head are so wrong. “We love a giver in bed,” I say, barely keeping the lust out of my voice.
“I’ve never had any complaints.” He winks, and he has no right to be that sexy.
“I bet you haven’t. Especially with what you’re packing.”
A full grin curls over his mouth. “I have had a few people worried it wouldn’t fit, but with the right prep…”
My cock aches. He has to know what he’s doing, right? I feel like I’m losing my mind. I dig my nails into my palm to keep some grip on reality. “Christ. That’s more than I needed to know.”
“I can’t help it! I’m horny as fuck, and you’ve been depriving me of cuddles for fucking weeks.” He acts all hurt, like I’ve wronged him.
“So this is my fault?” I ask, kinda seeing it but not willing to take full blame so easily.
“Yeah, I think it is, Angel.”
I don’t even know what to say.
“This was your idea! You wanted to stick it to Mark.”
“You agreed and promised you wouldn’t let it get between us,” he says like a fucking lawyer who’s had his case planned for months.
Bastard.
“Fuck you! I could help you with that as friends, but you’re not into it.” The words are out before I can stop them. Oops.
“What? You wouldn’t even cuddle with me? How are you helping?”
I scramble to come up with something to say that could possibly have the same meaning and not be offering my best friend a blow job.
We’d only just kind of patched things up—I don’t need to fuck it up again.
But other than sex work, how the fuck am I helping him out?
There is only one fucking meaning to that.
“I don’t hear any solutions?” he says like a total dick. “You’re leading me on, aren’t you?”
My competitiveness takes over, and my mouth is running again. “A blow job is a blow job. Not like you could tell the difference if it’s from a guy or a girl.”
He stares at me, and I can see it working behind his eyes. “Seriously? You said they were different when we were back home.”
“That’s true. They are way better from a guy because gay guys actually like giving blow jobs, unlike a lot of women.” I shrug like it’s nothing for me to just offer, but my heart is in my throat, and I’m bracing for him to throw me out of his room.
“You like it?” There’s curiosity in his tone.
“Of course I do? I love dick, so one in my mouth is hot.”
He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking about it really hard, which doesn’t help the situation in my pants. “Why would you want to blow me if you didn’t even want to cuddle?”
Fuck.
“I was trying not to cross too many lines and blur our friendship. I didn’t realize it was hurting you that bad.” More like I was trying to protect myself but same difference. “I didn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose.”
“And this isn’t not blurring the lines?” Is he actually considering this? “You’d do it?”
Holy fuck.
I can’t breathe. It’s like he’s set a forest fire inside me and I’m just going to burn. “I’m in your bed cuddling you. I think that’s gone out the window.”
“That’s a bit of a bigger deal.” He lightly skims his fingertips over my arm.
“Is it?” I swallow hard having to play it off because he just has no idea what any of this is doing to me. “I don’t want you to be hurting. I’ve already done enough damage. I want to make you to feel good.”
Why am I trying to convince him?
I’ve lost my fucking mind completely.