Chapter 21 #2
“It was perfect.” Bennett kisses my back, wrapping his arms around me. He adjusts us so we’re on our sides, and he just holds me as we bask in the glow of our orgasm, coming down from our high.
This moment is almost too much for me. I’m glad he can’t see me right now, because I feel like crying. I thought for so long I’d never have this. Not with anyone, especially not with Bennett.
Knowing he gets to be my first for everything means the fucking world.
Closing my eyes, I drink in this moment. If I could go back and tell my younger self anything, it would be not to give up, that if we wait long enough, everything would work out.
“You okay?” Bennett asks after a long few moments of silence.
“Perfect.” I chuckle. “Can we do that again?”
He laughs, his whole body shaking. “We can do it as much as you want. Just not tonight. Tonight we sleep.”
“Okay.” I yawn, the day catching up with me.
Bennett pulls out, and I wince, as I feel a tinge of pain. “Fuck,” Bennett hisses.
“What?” I look at him over my shoulder with panic.
“You should see how fucking sexy you look with your used hole dripping with my cum.” He grins, parting my cheeks.
“Oh fuck off.” I laugh, turning away with heated cheeks.
He grabs the towels we were using before and cleans us up the best he can. “We need to shower. But I’m too exhausted to do it again tonight.”
“Shower in the morning, sleep now.”
“Sounds good to me.” He crawls back into bed, pressing his body against mine.
I close my eyes, letting myself feel safe and cared for, smiling as my best friend, the man I’ve loved longer than I realized, holds me.
––––––––
The shitty thing about how my paychecks work out is that I didn’t get paid again until Christmas Eve. That would be today.
After the incredible gift Bennett gave me, I told myself I was going to do my best to get him a good one.
I know it won’t be as big as concert tickets to a massive music festival, but I can do my best to find something he’d like.
What do you get someone who seems to have everything?
Waking up early, I head to the mall, wanting to try and beat the rush. No luck there. The mall is packed when I step inside.
As I weave in and out of stores, I grow more and more frustrated, because anytime I think of something he might like, when I go to see if the store has it, it’s fucking sold out.
There’s hardly anything left on the shelves.
By the seventh store, I’m considering giving up. But decide to grab something to eat in the food court first before surrendering.
After ordering, I pick at my food, feeling like a fucking loser. What kind of boyfriend am I if I can’t even get him a gift?
Time after time, I’m failing him. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, but I do. I see it. I feel it. It fucking eats at me.
When he caught me digging through the donation bin the other week, I wanted to die. I almost had a panic attack. I was expecting him to make fun of me, to break things off with me, but I should have known better. That wasn’t the kind of guy Bennett was.
He’s an amazing human being.
The way he played into it by asking to wear something I picked out, like it wasn’t a big deal, like these weren’t someone else's used clothes, it meant the world to me.
I fell so damn hard for that man in that moment, more madly in love with someone than I ever thought was possible.
Bennett had always been a good guy, but he just seems to have gotten better with age.
I’m nearly done with my burger when I hear my name.
“Easton?” I look over to see who it is, and my stomach sinks.
“Mom?” I ask, brows furrowing.
“Baby!” she says excitedly. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days!”
I wouldn’t have known. I had her blocked.
I look at the arms full of shopping bags and start to get pissed. What the hell is this?
Just a week ago, she couldn’t pay bills, but now she has money to buy a bunch of bullshit she doesn’t need?
“What’s all this? I thought you were tight on bills?”
“It’s wonderful news.” Her eyes light up. “I won the lottery. Ten thousand dollars! Can you believe it? And they say scratch tickets are a waste of money. I proved them wrong.”
“Scratch tickets bought with my money?” I ask, jaw ticking.
“Oh, baby, don’t be like that. Be happy! We won’t need your help for a long time.”
Is she fucking kidding me?
She helps herself to the spot in front of me. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to invite you to supper tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re my son, silly. This is Christmas. We should be together as a family. I’ve missed you so much. Please? Now that we can afford it, I have everything. A big turkey, all the sides, and pies. So many pies.”
She sounds a little manic. I’m kind of worried about her.
“I don’t know.”
Her face falls. “What do you mean? I’m your mother, Easton. You can’t even come share a meal with us? It’s Christmas! Why do you hate me so much?”
And there goes the big crocodile tears. I swear, the older I got, the more she started acting like my father with all her bullshit.
“Do you have plans anywhere else? With Taylor? She’s welcome to come, too.”
“Taylor and I broke up.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders drop.
“I was just going to stay in tonight.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “That's no way to spend Christmas Eve. Come home, have a meal, that's all I'm asking."
Home. That hasn’t been my home for years, if ever. And the only thing she’s asking? She’s joking, right?
“Please.”
“Are you going to pay me back the money you borrowed?”
She hesitates. Then nods. “If you come for supper, I will.”
She should anyway. She said she would. I fucking did her a favor.
I know I’m not getting that money back. My dad would never allow it. But what do I have to lose? The worst is that I put on a fake act with my dad to avoid pissing him off and having a meal. I know I’m not getting my money back.
“Okay.” I sigh heavily. “Fine. What time?”
“Yay! Four sharp.”
“Alright.” I nod.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She jumps to her feet and shuffles over to give me a kiss on the top of my head. “See you tonight!”
As she rushes away, I regret my decision already.
Nothing good is going to come from tonight. I just know it.
As I walk up to the front steps of the house that gave me nothing but bad memories, I can’t shake the feeling of dread settling into the pit of my stomach.
It’s stupid for me to be here. Nothing good ever came when it had to do with my parents.
But a part of me, the broken boy who craved his mom and dad to love him, to have him be enough, wants to see if maybe there’s a chance.
That may be because I’m older and no longer their burden that things could be different.
The moment I lower my hand, after knocking on the door, my heart starts to race, my body breaking out in a sweat.
The door swings open, and I’m relieved to see it’s my mom. She smiles up at me with surprise.
“You actually came,” she says in disbelief.
“Ah, yeah. Did you not mean it? I can go if you want.”
“No, no.” She grabs my hand, pulling me inside the house. “Of course, I want you here. You’re the last to arrive.”
“Are other people here?"
Maybe having other people around might make this a lot less terrifying.
“We have the Jensons and the Markles.”
I take that back. Mr. Jenson is almost as bad as my dad. His wife is nice enough. I don’t remember the Markles as much, but from what I do, they didn’t seem too bad.
“Everyone!” Mom announces when she pulls me into the living room. “You all remember, Easton, our son.”
The back of my neck heats as everyone looks my way. “Hi.” I force a smile.
“Would you look at him?” A woman who looks to be in her forties with long blonde hair gets up and comes over to us. “He sure did turn into such a handsome young man.” She reaches up and pats my cheek. Why do people think they can just touch others without asking? I hate it.
“Our son?” The sound of my father’s voice has a chill shooting down my spine. “Forgot we had one of those. Seeing how he’s too good for his parents now that he’s gone to that fancy school.”
My stomach twists. Still as big of an asshole as always, I see.
“Stop that, Fred. It’s Christmas, can we please just have a good day? Supper is ready.”
Everyone files into the kitchen. It’s cramped and not enough people can fit at the table, but Mom made it work, finding a space between her and the blonde woman, whom she introduces as Karen, Mrs. Markle, when Mom introduced everyone else.
As conversation goes on around me, I pick at my food. It’s good. But I’m too nervous to eat much.
“So, Easton, how’s school going?” Mom asks.
“Oh.” I look up. “It’s good. Passing all my classes.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.” She smiles, and for a second, I let that happy feeling that I did something right take over me.
“And football?” Dad grunts. “You still playing that?”
“I am.” I nod, clearing my throat, unable to look his way.
“Such a waste of money,” he mutters. “Fun for now, but gets you nowhere in life.”
What would he know? He never paid for me to play football.
When we lived in Silver Valley, there was a program for underprivileged kids that gave them the chance to play sports.
Mom signed me up for that, and sponsors bought my equipment.
Not sure if he knows that. He’s a cheapskate, but hated people thinking of us as a charity case.
I think Mom did a lot of things behind his back that he doesn't know about.
“Actually, it was worth all the time, effort, and money, because I’m currently being looked at by three NFL teams.”
I lift my eyes just in time to see my dad gaping at me. “Really?” he sounds surprised.
I shift in my seat, nodding. “No official offers yet, but they should be coming in the new year. By then, I’ll be picking which NFL team I want to play for.”
He drops his fork, a smile I’ve never seen on his face before. “Well, I’ll be damned. My son is gonna be a bigwig.” For a small second, I get that thrill that I’ve pleased him too, but then I see the shift in his gaze. “And that money. You’d be making, what, millions?”
And there it is. Money. It’s always fucking money. If I keep my parents in my life, that's all they’re going to see me as. A cash cow. And with the kind of money I’d be making, they would sink their claws into me.
“I don’t know.” I clear my throat. “That depends on what the teams offer me.”
“You have to go with whatever team gives you the most. It’s a no-brainer.”
I nod my head, looking away, not wanting to talk about me or football anymore.
The conversation shifts, and I’m relieved.
That is, until Mr. Jenson speaks again. “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere recently.”
My eyes dart up to his. “Ah, well, I’m around town a lot. Don’t have a car, so I walk most places.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Not in town.” He stares at me for a moment before snapping his fingers. “That’s it. The burger joint in New Town. I thought that was you, but you grew up, so you look a lot different than the last time I saw you.”
The world around me slows, my heart pounding in my chest. New Town. The burger joint. The date I had with Bennett. The one where we were able to just be ourselves, because no one we knew should have been there.
It was supposed to be a safe place. But it wasn’t.
Someone I knew saw me. Someone who’s friends with my dad.
Alarm bells are going off inside my head, telling me to run, to get out of there, that it wasn’t safe.
I can’t move, frozen in place like a slow car crash happening.
“You were with that Tatum fella. I’ve seen him around town with his mother.” He wrinkles his nose. “Didn’t know you still hung out with the likes of them.”
Dad’s face snaps my way, and I think I’m about to puke all over this table.
Run, Easton. Get the fuck out of here.
“Bennett? You’re still hanging around that little faggot?” He growls, and I start to shake.
“I think I should go now.” My voice comes out like a scared little boy. Flashes of the past seep back in.
Pushing back from the table, I get to my feet.
“Don’t you fucking walk away.” Dad gets up. My heart is racing so fast I feel lightheaded. My feet work, leading me toward the door.
But I’m not fast enough. He grabs me by the shoulder, and I’m brought back to a time when I was that defenseless little boy.
I could kick his ass if I wanted to. I'm bigger than him, stronger than him. You’d think, but when you're in the moment, it’s like your body fails you.
“I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from that family. Didn’t you learn enough when you were a fucking kid?” he barks in my face, spittle landing on my cheek. “Do I need to remind you? To beat the sense into you again?”
“Fred. Just let it go. Let him be,” Mom begs behind him.
“No. I’m not gonna have my son hang out with a family of freaks.”
My chest heaves, nostrils flaring, fists clenching at my side. “They’re not freaks,” I manage to get out. “They’re kind, loving people. A good family. A family that loves and supports their kids. Unlike you and Mom.”
It happens so fast, I don’t see it coming, but I should have. The sting of his hand across my face as he slaps me.
“Watch your fucking mouth, boy. Don’t compare us to a bunch of faggots.”
I’m done. I’m so fucking done with this man. I let my fear of him and how he would react rule my life for so long. I lost so much. He caused me so much pain, and I’m done letting it happen.
Maybe this is a bad idea, but I’m done hiding. It’s better to get this over with now and put him behind me than continue to live in fear. That is, if I survive this night. Because knowing my dad, I know I’m not getting out of here untouched.
“They’re not faggots,” I snap back. “They’re amazing people.
And their son, Bennett? He was my best friend.
And because of you, I lost him. But not anymore.
He’s in my life, for good. Because guess what, Dad, he’s my boyfriend, and I’m never letting him go.
I’m gay. There. You hate faggots so much, well, your son is one, I guess. ”
That's the last thing I say before his fist comes flying at my face.
I knew it was coming, but nothing can prepare you for the pain, the way it takes your breath away.
It’s worth it, though. Because fucking hell, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free in my life.