Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Devon
Christian stays tense the entire ride back to his apartment.
As soon as he throws the vehicle in park, he's out of his seat and up the porch steps before I can even undo my seatbelt. I climb out slowly, gazing up at the night sky while I take a moment to breathe. There are no stars tonight, only clouds. Raindrops begin to dot the driveway.
With a shiver, I pull Christian's leather jacket tighter around me and follow him inside.
He didn't ask for it back, so I'm not bringing it up.
Honestly, I like being surrounded by something other than the smell of my own body odor.
Makes it easier to shove that itch aside, the one begging me to turn around and find the only thing that can silence my brain.
When I step inside the apartment, Christian's already shut inside his room, but Logan and Owen are cuddled on the couch. They look up from whatever they're watching as I enter, and I suddenly feel awkward as fuck because… where the hell am I supposed to go? Not like I have a room here.
I just kinda stand near the kitchen island and shuffle my feet, weighing my options with a snarky comment on the tip of my tongue.
Well, don't you two look cozy.
The old me would have said it in a heartbeat. But that was before… everything. Before the crash, before Christian and Arya. Before I fell so far down the rabbit hole that I'll never be able to claw my way out.
Logan sighs heavily, interrupting my thoughts. “Movie's almost over,” he says, an arm slung around his boyfriend's shoulders. “Then we'll get out of your spot.”
My spot. Like I have any claim to Christian's couch?
Owen smiles sleepily and pats the cushion beside him. “You can sit. I promise I won't bite… hard.”
That has me tilting my head. The next words out of my mouth surprise even me. “You know Logan and I fucked once, right?”
Okay, so, shit. Maybe the old Dev is still in here somewhere.
Logan’s head whips around, amber eyes flashing, but his boyfriend just blinks.
“Uh, what does that have to do with sitting next to me?”
I burrow deeper into Christian’s jacket. “Just thought you'd want to know.”
“He already knows, asshole,” Logan mutters, pulling Owen closer when I plop down next to them.
“He does?”
Owen laughs, a cute little chuckle that almost makes me smile. “Yep. He told me on our first date right before I gave him a blow job.”
My brows hit my hairline as Logan groans loudly. “Can we not talk about our bedroom activities, please?”
“Why? We talk about it with everyone else.”
“That's different.” Logan eyes me sideways, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow. The tips of his ears are turning red.
“We're all adults and we like to bone. I like dick, you like dick. He likes dick. No big deal.”
“Owen, please.” Logan squirms in his seat. I catch the way he subtly adjusts himself, like this conversation alone is getting him hard.
Honestly, it would probably turn me on too if my shit wasn't all out of whack.
It usually is for a while after I get sober.
To be honest, I'm not sure how long it lasts, because…
well, whenever I felt like getting laid in the past, I'd just snort a line and everything would work again—at least until the numbness set in.
The two turn back to their movie, but I sit stiffly beside them, unsure of what to do with my hands.
Christian’s jacket is heavy on my shoulders, steady and distracting all at once.
The itch at the back of my skull claws up again, that old craving whispering promises like it always does: Just one bump. Just one night. Do it, do it, do it.
I curl my fingers into the sleeves to ground myself, rubbing at the worn leather. It helps a little. Enough to keep me from bolting out the door like a fiend. I pretty much spend the remainder of the movie trying not to vibrate out of my skin.
As soon as the credits roll, Owen stretches like a cat. “We should probably head to bed.”
Logan nods, getting to his feet. “Yeah. Christian’s gonna be locked in his room all night, so you'll have the living room to yourself, Dev.”
Something sinks in my gut at those words.
“Night.” Owen gives my knee a gentle pat before sliding off the couch.
Logan pauses in front of me to study my face. “Don’t do anything impulsive tonight,” he says quietly. “Try to sleep.”
I give him a half-assed salute. “Sure thing, bro. Scouts honor.”
He just sighs, but leaves me alone, guiding Owen into their bedroom. When everything goes silent, I stare at the blank TV screen, my reflection pale and warped in the glass. Seconds tick by.
Christian’s door stays shut. So does Logan’s. Everyone’s tucked away, everyone’s okay.
Everyone except for me.
Lying flat on the sofa, I pull Christian’s jacket tighter around me and bury my nose in the collar. Coffee, leather, and warm spice. Almond and cedar. Good smells, safe smells.
Maybe the longer I stay still with his jacket on, the easier it'll be when my thoughts come to take me away.