Chapter 9
Brandon
Rousing Avery awake—who’d fallen asleep on my shoulder the minute I’d gotten the truck out of park and pulled onto the main road—I killed the ignition and slipped my seatbelt off of me.
He slowly blinked his eyes open, was mechanical in the way he sat himself up and shook his head a few times to wake up. I had half a mind to reach out and rub his shoulder out of comfort, already feeling sympathetic to the hangover he was bound to wake up with tomorrow morning.
Although it wasn’t really my problem per say, I still found myself concerned for him.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Pushing open my side of the truck, I climbed out and let the door slam behind me.
Avery didn’t move inside of the cab and merely squinted at me through the windshield. Him being so drunk had me wondering what exactly had tipped him over the edge like this. Usually, he wasn’t one to get more than tipsy, let alone being so far gone that he could barely recognize where he was.
Or rather... that’s how he used to be. I supposed I really had no clue if he was some kind of alcoholic or heavier partier nowadays. I could only speculate about it based on what he used to be like a long time ago.
People were prone to change, after all, and continually trying to fit him into a box he’d clearly outgrown wasn’t fair on my part.
At the same time, though, this also seemed like some kind of cry for help. Perhaps his father’s death was finally hitting him. Or maybe he was coming to terms with no longer having that man looming over his shoulder and was finally feeling free enough to go a little crazy.
A combination of both?
Who knew.
I wretched open Avery’s side, beckoning him over to me. “Come on, let’s go.”
He frowned. “You’re mad...”
“What? No, I just don’t want you throwing up in my truck.”
“You don’t like me...”
I sighed. “Avery. Get out of my damn truck.”
He slowly scooted over, swinging his legs around, and then heaved himself off of the seat. My eyes widened as I reached out to catch him, only just barely steadying us both before we careened down onto the driveway and ended up in a heap.
Avery’s arms came around me again, tugging me closer until I was pressed up against him once more. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, his warm breath ghosting over my skin and sending a shiver rolling up my spine hard enough to make my entire body twitch.
“Don’t hate me.”
Not being able to help myself, I ran my fingers through the ends of his hair. “I don’t. Whatever gave you that impression?”
“S’cause you don’t want to be around me.”
“To be fair, we don’t really know each other anymore.”
“Hate that,” he mumbled.
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “Is this you trying to tell me you want to be best friends again?”
He nodded.
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I could handle that.
The more likely scenario was that now more than ever, I was going to make my feelings obvious enough for him to pick up on, no matter how hard I tried to suppress them from not only him, but from myself as well.
It wasn’t fair of me to put that kind of pressure on him in any sense, but especially with him still dealing with his father’s estate and the mess that came with it.
What sense would throwing my own drama into the mix make?
None whatsoever.
Able to wiggle out of his hold this time, I grabbed him by the arm and led him up the front steps to my house.
It was a small thing, no wider than a trailer, but was something that I proudly called home.
The outside’s curb appeal could certainly use a little work, but who the hell had time for that anyway.
Unlocking my front door, I ushered Avery inside and flicked on the hallway lights. I pointed to where the shoe mat was, taking off my own and then waiting for him to do the same before I tugged him down the hallway.
“You can take my bed,” I said, pushing the door open to my room once we reached it.
Like the rest of my house, the master bedroom was pretty small, but with it only being me here, I never found the need to complain about it.
Why have more room that would just remain empty?
Avery’s gaze was curiously darting around the space, taking everything in all in once as I turned the fan and light on. Once I let go of him, he wandered over to my dresser, picking up some of the small photo frames I had sitting there to inspect them.
Pictures with my mom and brothers from childhood, a few of me and my sister, and the rest of our siblings, along with one of Avery and me—all of them were neatly set side-by-side in a uniform row that looked quite out of place in my undecorated room.
When he picked up the one of us—a fishing trip we’d taken one year where both of us caught the smallest bass you could ever imagine—he traced his finger over the glass in a languid motion. Like he was trying to memorize it.
I watched him quietly, keeping my distance over by the door.
He set the frame down carefully, stepping back while looking over his shoulder at me. His eyes were half-lidded and slow blinking, the kind of expression that most people would think was Avery trying to make eyes at them.
I knew better, though. Knew to not give into whatever pathetic excuse my mind was trying to come up with in order to cross the distance and pull him into a kiss.
“Bed?” he said, finally turning back to it.
“Yeah.” My voice was hoarse.
He settled down onto the edge of the mattress, putting both of his hands on his thighs while spreading his legs wide. He eyed me expectantly, a strange expression coming over him.
“You want a change of clothes? I think I’ve got some oversized stuff.”
When he didn’t answer me, I took that as a sign to grab him a pair anyway. The worst thing he’d do was not wear it.
Pulling a pair of wide legged pants and a t-shirt from my dresser drawer, I crossed the room to hand them to him. “All right, well, I’ll grab you some water and then leave you alone.”
Avery’s brows pulled together. “Alone?”
“Yeah, I’m going to take the couch.”
He let out an annoyed sound, snatching the clothes from my hand. “No.”
“No what?”
He tossed the clothes onto the bed, both of his hands suddenly grabbing me and yanking me clear off my feet. I stumbled and slammed into his chest, both of us tumbling backward. Avery was flat against the mattress and I was laid out on top of him.
My face burned at the position, and even more so when I felt myself growing hard again.
For fuck’s sake.
“Couch.” He huffed. “What the fuck.”
“What’s wrong with me taking the couch?” I tried to sit up, failed immediately when his arms tightened around my waist.
“Stupid,” was all he said before rolling us over, pinning me under him.
“Avery,” I spat out—but even to my own ears, I was barely sounding just above desperate.
He settled against me, resting his entire body on mine like an oversized weighted blanket.
One of his legs was hooked under mine, causing our hips to practically be pressed flush against each other.
His one arm was curled around my body, his shoulder acting as my chin rest while I fumbled to wiggle out from under him.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep like this,” I said. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
He only laughed, burying his face in my neck. “S’kay.”
No, it fucking isn’t!
My cock was begging for me to reach down and unbutton my pants and fist my hand around it. Blueballs were nothing compared to whatever torture this was.
Humping his leg like a fucking horny dog was exactly what my brain was screaming at me to do. Just to get an ounce of relief. As long as I could breathe in his scent, I could get off just like this.
How fucked up was that?
I groaned.
“Shhhh,” he said. “Sleep.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled.
God, what would Avery even do if he found out how much he turned me on?
Freak out, probably.
Run for the hills?
More than likely.
Then again, what other chance would I ever get to be this close to him again?
Even without the grossly sexual tension that was clearly one-sided on my end, Avery wasn’t one for physical affection at all, no matter the circumstances.
Was it wrong of me to take advantage of this?
To convince him to spend as much time like this with me as possible?
Before he sobered up and realized that keeping people at arm’s length was better than ever letting anyone in.
Maybe this would have to be enough for me. Simply holding him as he slept while I listened to the sounds of his soft breathing in my ear.
Reaching up from behind, I tangled my fingers in his hair and gently stroked through the long lengths.
“Go to sleep, Avery.”
But I didn’t need to tell him that at all, because soon, his labored breathing tapered off into steady even breaths and his body relaxed against mine while he fell asleep.
This would have to be enough for me, no matter how much it was going to hurt me come morning when he inevitably pushed me away with some lame excuse and tried to play all of this off as some drunken stupor.
At least I’d remember it. At least I could hold this moment in my heart for the rest of my days and look at it fondly despite the heartache attached to it.
I loved this man more than he’d ever know.
And sometimes, that needed to be enough.
No matter what.