Chapter 2 #2
Lori is giving me his boa-constrictor hug. Help me, I communicate through my gaze. My already aching body is screaming to be released.
I have to put up with that every day. Now it’s your turn. Endure, Ollie gives back. He crouches down near the wooden boards on the floor to slide a shelf into the small book rack he’s building.
“How have you been?” I ask Lori, hoping he’ll let me go. But that doesn’t happen.
“Busy. But fully enjoying the occasional garroting and Bartitsu,” he lets me know creepily. He really likes punishing donors.
“Stop wiggling, or you’re going to get a smooch, too,” Lori threatens me just as I hear a low growl coming from the slightly open window.
“What’s that? You got a tiger loose on campus?”
“I roll my eyes at him. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that sound, though. It must be one of the students screwing around.
“How are things back home?” I address my brother as Lori finally pulls back.
It’s Ollie’s turn to hug me. He presses his forehead to mine like he’s been doing since we were kids. He knows the familiar gesture has the power to ground me. I release a relieved breath, and some of the uneasiness I was feeling on my way back here disappears.
“Home? Nothing new apart from the handsomeness overload,” Lori answers instead, releasing a dramatic sigh. “Ezra and Uri in the same room is stroke-inducing.”
I know that. Not because of Uri, though. It’s weird how I only feel attracted to Ezra when they are identical twins. Thankfully, my brother moves back to the shelves as I try to calm myself, even though only hearing his name makes my pulse race.
“Do I need to remind you about your engagement to Gabe and Bez?” I taunt Lori, knowing already that I don’t. He’s crazy about his men.
“Puh-lease. The wedding planning is taking a toll on me.” He places the back of his hand over his forehead, assuming the perfect theatrical pose of a damsel about to faint.
“And me,” Ollie interjects, still building the book rack. We are brothers, but we don’t look very similar. Where I’m long-limbed and lithe, he is toned with sleek muscles. My hair is dark, while Ollie’s is light brown. He is brave and bold; I am cautious and weak.
“I think I’m stress-ovulating,” Lori suddenly and unfortunately states.
“You are just nuts,” I say, setting my messenger bag on the desk chair.
“Am I? But you are the one who left this at my place.” He takes his hand out of his pocket, pointing his middle finger at me.
Instead of telling him off, I feel a little bubble of melancholy swell in my chest. I miss this. This everyday nonsensical banter I used to share with them. But things couldn’t stay the same. They already changed when Ollie met Rague, and then Lori moved in with Gabe. Now it’s my turn.
“Did you bring Pink?” I ask, while looking around. I don’t see any sign of my cat, though. Ollie usually brings her with him; he knows how much I miss her.
“No, sorry. I came straight from work,” he tells me, hammering away. He turned very handsy since he started working with Rague. They own a construction and demolition company, though Ollie has mostly been working in the office since he got a degree in accounting and business administration.
“You know what that means, right?” I raise a brow at him.
Fuck no! he communicates through our look conversation. He drops the tools, straightens up, and takes a step back. “I couldn’t take Pink with us; the car was full of wooden boards.”
Fuck yes, I counter. I haven’t seen Pink in two weeks.
Fuck no! You’ll come home this weekend and see her then, Ollie tries, and I almost yield.
Almost. I know there was space in the car, you just didn’t want to go all the way to your home to get her, you lazy ass.
I should be grateful he came here and tried to make my room cozier but I feel a little down.
“Stop with the creepy eye convo!” Lori grabs his phone out of his bag and aims it at Ollie, starting a video. “Sully-doo is right. Apology dance time,” he singsongs. “Go!”
“Really?” My brother turns to me with a cringy expression. I nod, already anticipating what’s about to come.
“Shake that booty!” Lori cheers.
“Forget the best, I’ll be the worst man at your wedding!” he retorts lamely. He then glares at me just before starting to twerk and flail his arms, looking like one of those inflatable tube men outside shops.
It’s something we do for each other as a form of apology instead of actually saying the words. Ollie is not really the emotional type; humiliating each other suits both of us better. It…works.
Lori is bent in half, shaking with laughter, but still manages to keep his phone up to film my brother’s ridiculously and extremely awful performance.
Then, the off-key singing begins, “I’m naughty, I’m bad like Michael J. said. You were right, and I was…wrong. I won’t forget where I belong.”
“And where is that?” I ask, unable to hold my smile.
“Fire pants hell,” Ollie grunts the last piece.
“Crikey, if you sing, you will definitely be the worst man at my wedding,” Lori taunts him, ending the video when my brother flips him off.
My closed-mouth smile is short-lived as Ollie looks at me next, his eyes turning intense.
“What’s wrong?”
I frown. Sometimes I think Ollie has a sixth sense connected to my emotions. He can feel when I’m not alright, even if I give my best performance.
“You’re half smiling, Sully. Usually, my dance apology makes you laugh with tears.”
“While screaming inside,” Lori finishes. “You have ten seconds to confess.”
“Lor,” my brother scolds him.
But it’s too late. “Nine, eight.”
“Stop.”
“Seven, six.”
“I have…” I say at the same time he keeps counting down.
“Five.”
“…nothing to say.”
“Four. You know you’ll get cursed by Krampus if you lie to me.”
“Again with this nonsense,” I hear Ollie grumble.
“Okay! Okay,” I exclaim, exasperated by Lori’s theatrics. “I didn’t want to annoy you.”
“Too late,” he states shamelessly. “You are so transparent.”
“And you are not?” I counter, a little irritated by his forcefulness.
“But what a piece of…glass, right?” He makes a look-at-me pose.
His brown curls are perfectly styled, and the makeup is light today.
The burgundy velvet shorts and cable-knit cropped sweater under the long beige coat give him a classy look with an edge of slutty, thanks to the high boots on his feet. As always, Lori is stunning.
“Glass? Shut it, or I’ll shatter you,” my brother tells him, not even a little impressed.
“Why this bitchy? Oh, right, must be a full moon tonight,” Lori snipes.
Ollie glares at him, but Lori is kind of right; my brother could pass for a werewolf. He’s not tall, but he’s gained more muscles since he started training with Rague—who is built like a giant bear.
He focuses his attention back on me. “Look, I can imagine how tough all of this is right now. But you don’t need to have it all together.
Nobody does, I can assure you. Don’t rush it.
Trust the process. One breath at a time, one step at a time,” he reminds me of Meg’s mantra.
Repeating it in my head has been helping me when I turn anxious or fearful. When dark memories rush back.
“You can always, always talk to us,” Lori adds.
I appreciate it, and I want to do it, but not with Ollie. He already has a lot on his plate with his job and the bar he opened with Rague. I’ll ask Lori for advice another time.
“If you’re here against your will, just say banana,” he whispers loudly, leaning over me. “I’ll come running. Well, one member of the sausage fest will. We all have your back.”
“Why banana?” I hear myself ask.
“It’s my favorite fruit.” He winks as he suggestively recreates the long, thick shape of the fruit in the air.
“What’s wrong?” my brother insists, ignoring his friend’s antics and looking serious as shit.
I grit my teeth. I don’t want to see the worried look on his face. Not for something like this. It could all be in my head.
“Maybe he’s all study and no pleasure.” Lori saves me. The look he sends to my clothes is filled with criticism. My jacket is open, showing the oversized sweater and loose jeans underneath.
“You need to let go and have fun. Are you enjoying campus life?” he asks.
“I’m busy studying.” I turn toward my desk and start fumbling with the books and notebooks there. But Lori spins my chair with a Cheshire Cat smile on his face.
“Fun helps remove stress and loneliness and is known for taking your pants off as well.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a ridiculous way. “It’s the dog’s bollocks!”
“The what?” I look at him, confused. His grandma was from the UK. She raised him, which is why British words and sayings slip into his everyday speech. Some of them are very weird, that’s why I keep forgetting their meaning.
“Bow chicka wow wow.” Lori thrusts his hips while spanking an imaginary ass.
I roll my eyes at him. Sometimes I pity Gabe for putting up with this on a daily basis. Maybe I should offer him the banana safe word.
“Now tell me, how do you study with dudes moving around half naked…or all naked?” Ollie pinches him. “What? College kids have no shame, right?” Lori’s voice is filled with hope.
“And you do?” Ollie intervenes.
“If you could read my mind, you’d be horrified or very turned on,” Lori states. Then it’s my turn again. “Just remember, you can make everything happen with patience and lube. Never forget lube.”
“He’s twenty years old,” Ollie reminds him of my age.
“So? We lost our virginities way before that.”
“Can’t believe I have an hour and a half to spend in the same car with you, again.” My brother huffs at him.
“If you are so against it, I can run you over with that same car on our way home so I’ll never hear you bitching again,” Lori grumbles at him.
“If you drive, I won’t be the only victim,” my brother mutters. Lori is very dangerous behind the wheel.
“No, you won’t. You’d probably do a ninja move and dodge it.”
“What’s with the bag?” I point at the purple one on the bed. What I’m trying to do is stop the idiotic banter. It’s not even lunchtime, and I’m already exhausted. My shoulder aches, but I can’t tell Ollie about the accident, or he’ll freak.
Lori claps his hands with excitement. Uh oh.
“I brought something for you!” He turns the bag upside down and empties it on the duvet. “All the essentials a college student should have in their room. I Googled it.”
I walk to the bed to get a better look. There are too many Cup Noodles, an gift card, expensive face creams, a tube of sunscreen, a candle, a book on How to Score Using Three Words Tops, and five packs of condoms—one is size large. I lift it up and turn it toward Lori.
“Experimenting is fun, and I didn’t want to assume…the dimensions.” His eyes glance at my groin. I hear Ollie’s groan of dissent behind me. “Magnitude?” Lori tries again, forcing a grunt out of my brother this time. “Girth!”
For fuck’s sake!
“Stop!” Both Ollie and I say in unison.
“Bareback is awesome but dangerous. You need to protect Huey, Dewey, and Louie.” Lori points at my dick again.
My brother slaps his hand over his face and then drops himself onto the empty bed on the other side of the room.
“Lori, ummm, thank you for this, but stop talking.” I force the words out. I don’t know what he Googled before buying all this stuff for me, but it’s sort of sweet. “And homemade food is all I need.”
“Bugger it! I should have done that.” He snaps his fingers. “I’ll take care of it.” He grabs his phone.
He’s going to go overboard, but it’s okay. I can share it with the other students. Maybe even make some friends.
“No need. I brought some.” Ollie waves his hand at the two cooler bags on the floor near the mini fridge. “Rague made you lasagna and all your favorite side dishes.”
“He didn’t have to.” I smile at the bags.
I’m really grateful for Rague. Not only because he saved Ollie, but because he really cares about me, too.
His patience and support helped me heal.
He loves my brother to an almost disturbing level.
But more than once, I’ve found myself wishing I could have that same powerful connection with someone.
Brad’s face pops into my head. He is the only person I feel completely at ease with, but there’s no attraction toward him whatsoever. He’s like a little brother to me.
“KKJ put ham in the lasagna…it’s like having an orgasm exploding on your tongue,” Lori lets me know.
KKJ—King Kong Junior is the nickname Lori gave to Rague.
Ollie hates it, and as he drops his head back on the mattress, Lori quickly slides a box inside my desk drawer.
He winks at me and then lets himself fall on top of my brother.
He oomphs and then curses him too loudly for a university dorm.
“Let’s go grab a bite to eat,” I suddenly suggest, wanting them out of here.
The dorm can turn boisterous at times, a bunch of boys high on testosterone together is a recipe for moronic acts waiting to happen.
But raunchy adults visiting? That could be the cause of a dorm expulsion if they keep going.
“Of course, Papa Lori will take you to the best restaurant in town. You deserve it, Sully-doo.”
“Papa Lori…barf,” I throw his way. Still creepy as fuck when he calls himself that.
“If you’d remove your fat ass from crushing my stomach, I would stand up,” Ollie complains from under him.
“Is that why you keep groping it?” Lori retorts as he straightens himself up before my brother does.
“You wish!”
They are such kids. I grab my messenger bag, and as I take a couple of steps toward the door, the strap gets hooked on the chair’s armrest, yanking me backward and making me stumble. Ollie’s hand shoots out and pulls me forward before I hit the desk.
They don’t say anything as we make our way out of the room, one in front, one behind, just in case my incoordination acts up again. How does Lori keep his balance on those stiletto heels when I can’t even walk properly in my Stan Smiths?