Chapter 17
Dex
I can’t help myself—I watch Korren from the shower the whole time he’s drying off. I’m just generally thick and muscly, but Korren is sculpted in the most incredible ways. He’s got a lean stomach with a perfectly defined six-pack, and his biceps are huge.
And I have the answer to another question—he doesn’t have any tattoos.
“Stop watching me,” Korren says, his back to me. I can tell he’s smiling.
“I’m just wondering how the fuck you’re so ripped when you obviously can’t afford a gym membership.”
“I like exercising. It takes my mind off things. And you don’t need a gym to stay strong, dumbass.”
I turn off the shower and reach for my own towel, trying to ignore the way my dick is throbbing. If I hadn’t just given him the shower dare, I would’ve dared Korren to help me out.
I wrap my towel around my waist, my cock tenting the front, and reach for my clothes. It’s then that I notice something marring the smooth skin of Korren’s forearms.
I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head with a board. For a moment I can’t move, and then I’m crowding closer to him, all my protective instincts surging to the surface even though there’s no one I can protect Korren from except himself.
“Did you cut yourself?” I ask in a low growl.
Korren tucks his arms against his stomach and doesn’t answer.
“Tell me you’re not doing it any longer.”
Korren’s head is hanging down, his hair curtaining his face. He whispers, “I’m not.”
I reach out a gentle hand and unlatch one of his arms from his stomach.
I hope he’s telling the truth. A couple of the scars are red, but they’ve obviously healed up, and the rest are just puffy skin.
I run a thumb over the ridges, stomach twisting at the thought of Korren so miserable that he carved into his own wrist.
“You’re not suicidal, are you?” I ask, tightening my grip on his arm.
“No.”
He must know I’m not convinced, because he mutters, “It was a fucking huge effort getting this job and making my way up here. This is me trying to put my life back together, all right? If I wanted to give up, I would’ve just fucking kept doing what I was doing before.”
I slide my hand into his and grip it. “If that ever changes, I need you to swear you’ll tell me.”
“I’m not your fucking boyfriend,” Korren mumbles.
I give him a threatening look.
“Fine. I’ll tell you.”
Then he pulls his hand out of mine and escapes the bathroom, leaving me to slide down to the floor, weak and shaky.
Suddenly this whole thing doesn’t feel like a game any longer.