Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Leon
Drinking on an empty stomach after a restless week was a poor idea; drinking with Armani Moretti of all people in general may have been a worse one.
My brother is somehow the most nagging responsible person when it concerns gun safety and hydration, but when it comes to having a good time, he turns into a different beast. Gone is the man who throws electrolyte waters and juices at you from across the room if he thinks you’re not consuming enough liquid, and in his place stands a party animal who can binge drink like a professional and hunt for a casual fuck at the same time.
Thankfully, we’re drinking in my basement, rather than some sweaty club where he would no doubt have found a woman—or man—to entice him away from me by now.
Although, him leaving might be a good thing, at least for my liver.
I haven’t drank like an irresponsible teenager for years, and I know I’m going to wake up feeling like absolute shit tomorrow morning.
But hey, maybe drowning in shots with my brother like this will actually allow me to sleep.
“How many days has it been, by the way? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” Colton says, swaggering up to me with another beer that he just grabbed from the cooler.
Wherever Armani goes, Colton Wyatt is quick to follow.
The Texan cowboy mobster is somehow my fashion-obsessed Italian gun expert brother’s perfect platonic match.
They’ve been attached at the hip since they met as children.
“If I hadn’t slept in weeks, I’d be hallucinating, and probably dying,” I reply, taking his offering and popping the top off on the edge of my table.
“I’ve been sleeping, just like shit. It takes me forever to pass out, it takes even longer to wake up, and I don’t feel rested at all afterward.
” If Apollo and Rayna weren’t here to help me, I’d be afraid of falling asleep while making the boys their breakfasts every day.
They’re the only reason I can even disappear into the garage for hours after my kids’ bedtime without feeling like an irresponsible dad. I know Apollo’s got the house covered, and he assured me of it himself—knowing the verbal confirmation would help.
“Hallucinating could be fun,” Armani muses, drumming his fingers on the table top. The round felt-top wooden table is typically reserved for poker nights with my brothers, but now it’s just somewhere convenient to sit while we get drunk. “You could hallucinate something hot.”
“Yeah, that’s what I need.” I huff, rolling my eyes and taking a long drink.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you need, man,” Colton says with an awkward chuckle.
“I don’t mean to overstep, so you call tell me to shut the fuck up if I do, but getting laid could probably like, fix your mental shit.
At least for a little bit. Doesn’t sex, I don’t know, give you all those happy chemicals in your brain? I always sleep better after—”
Armani snorts, interrupting him. “When’s the last time you even got any, Colton?
You and Leon are in the same boat. You may as well be priests with how backed up you are.
” Colton glares at his best friend, but my brother isn’t bothered.
“But he’s right. Getting your rocks off would probably help you sleep, at least for a little while.
We could take you out, you know? It wouldn’t take long to find someone to give you a little all natural Ambien. ”
My head shakes and despite not being interested in the offer, he pulls a smile out of me. “The last thing I need is a hookup and the drama that comes along with it.”
“Oh, I can get you a girl that fucks and leaves, dearest brother,” he assures me with a devilish grin. “If you want no drama sex, you just have to pay for it. It’s the only surefire way to avoid any stage-five clingers or wanna be wives.”
“You think I should hire a prostitute so I can sleep?” I drawl, hoping my voice reflects how insane I think his idea is.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He smirks. “I’d hire her for you. My treat.”
“That’s even worse,” I grimace, causing both men to chuckle. Turning my attention to Colton, I lift a brow. “I know my reasons, but why exactly aren’t you having sex? Last I heard, the two of you were the casual fuck every weekend at minimum kind of guys.”
“Don’t say a word,” Colton immediately snaps at Armani before he can answer in his place.
My brother holds his hands up innocently, laughing to himself.
Looking back at me, the cowboy sighs. “Fuck it, I’ll show you my cards if you show me yours, Leon.
I know you had no feelings for your wife.
I also know you’re not fucked up enough to celebrate being free of her by going balls to the wall and having some big orgy party or something now that she’s gone.
But why don’t you want to go out and see if the mood strikes? ”
It’s no real secret, I suppose.
Shrugging, I reply, “Casual sex doesn’t appeal to me.
I’ve had enough experiences with Cleo only being used for the possibility of procreating that I’ve found out exactly what I don’t want.
I don’t want to use or be used to get off, man.
There’s nothing sexy about it, and I don’t really think there ever has been. ”
“Look at that,” Armani coos, patting his friend on the back. “You’re both romantics. At least Leon is more likely to find a woman who appreciates that than you are to wear Nico down.”
Colton flips my brother off, glaring hard.
“What? You said you were gonna tell him, I just beat you to it.”
“Nico, huh?” I ask, eyebrows drawing in. “How long has that been a thing?”
“It’s not a thing,” the cowboy says with a huff.
“Not for a lack of trying,” Armani adds, tipping his bottle toward his friend in a bit of a tease. “Hey, you know what you signed up for when you fell in love with my little brother. I get to torture you for it until the end of time.”
“I wouldn’t torture you if you fell in love with my little brother,” Colton replies tightly. “At least Dustin wouldn’t give you so many mixed signals.”
Armani rolls his eyes. “Dustin wouldn’t give me anything because he’s straight.”
“I feel like there’s a lot to unpack here.” I look between the two of them, eyebrows pinched together. “I don’t know if I have the capacity to digest this right now.”
Cackling, my brother throws his head back.
“You’ve only had like five drinks. It’s not that complicated, honestly.
Colton is head over dick for Nico, Nico won’t give him the time of day, except for when he kind of does.
And Colton stopped getting laid awhile ago because he says it feels like cheating even though Nico is very much not his boyfriend. ”
“Yes, nothing complicated about that,” I drawl, sarcasm clear as day. “I do not miss being as young as you two.”
“Were you ever really this young and fun?” Armani teases, tilting his head in challenge. “From what I can remember, you’ve always been the golden good boy, doing whatever Daddy needed while maintaining the utmost professionalism.”
“I hate it when you guys call me that, you know?” I scowl, looking down at my beer. “Pointing out the golden thing only reminds everyone that I look different from the rest of you, and that’s how the rumors about Uncle Cesar started.”
Colton coughs on his last sip. “Wait, what rumors?”
“I told you about that, didn’t I?” Armani frowns. “When we were younger, people liked to say that Leon was Cesar’s kid. Either Cesar banged Mom, or Mom pretended to be pregnant so that Dad could take in the kid he had out of wedlock. It was dumb, and it pissed Dad right the fuck off. Cesar too.”
Of course it did.
Rumors like that could be more destructive than you’d expect.
“I think I remember that,” Colton says distantly.
“I must have brushed it off in my memory because it’s ridiculous.
The two of you only looked alike because Cesar looked like a dirty blonde Dante, and you look like your dad with your mom’s hair.
It’s a lot lighter, it wouldn’t make sense that it came from Cesar. ”
Hearing his assessment, and the way he talks about it as if it’s so obvious that I’m my father’s son makes my heart begin to warm.
I’ve been hearing muted whispers about my parentage for as long as I can remember.
Dad even did a DNA test, just so that I could never let the words get to me.
He didn’t want me to take any of the nasty rumors to heart, but sometimes it was difficult to look different than the rest of my brothers.
“Yeah,” I mutter, clearing my throat. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. No one dares utter those thoughts now that he’s gone. If they got caught with the Capo’s dead brother’s name on their lips while saying anything other than praises, they’d be right to fear for their lives.”
“Amen.” Armani bangs a hand on the table once.
“Well, if you change your mind about going out, you’ll have to let us know,” Colton says, nodding to Armani. “I’ll never hear the end of it from this one if you go out on your own. He’ll be pouting about it until the end of time.”
“I won’t change my mind,” I say before my brother can gripe about being called out by his friend. “I’ll be getting married again soon enough as it is.”
“You will?” they both sputter.
Dipping my head in agreement, I set my drink down and wipe the condensation on my jeans.
“The boys need a motherly figure, and Cleo wanted them to have it as soon as possible. I could use the help, and Rayna can’t stay here forever.
Leo would never want her to go if she’s here long enough. He gets attached easily.”
“Shit, man,” Armani says, blowing out a long breath as he rakes a hand through his hair. “That’s…fuck, you’re stronger than I am. I don’t think I’d be able to jump into another marriage after the first one turned out so—”
“So fucking disastrously?” I finish for him.
“Yeah,” he agrees bluntly. “You’re not letting Dad just pick someone out this time, are you? Not that I blame him for what happened with Cleo, but it might be tempting fate to try the same thing twice.”
“I don’t blame him either,” I reply honestly.
“But no, he’s not just going to pick someone out.
We’re going to have interviews and choose someone together.
Someone nice, healthy, and smart. Someone who will be a good mother, but also a good friend to the boys.
I don’t know how the transition is going to work yet, so we’ll see if it’s a terrible idea eventually. ”
There’s a silence that follows my explanation.
“I think it’s great,” Colton declares suddenly.
“If I didn’t have my mother growing up, I’d be an entirely different person.
With my dad working so much, and having almost no soft edges to him, I’d probably be the kind of man that I fucking hate.
It’s a sacrifice to put your kids’ needs first, but one that I doubt you’ll regret in the long run. ”’
“Damn, bro.” Armani looks at him, eyes wide. “That was deep as fuck.”
It may sound like a sarcastic, teasing sentence to some, but Colton and I both know that he’s being sincere.
“Thank you, Colton.” Nodding at the man, I pick up my drink once again. “I just want to give them the best life I can. And if I put myself on the back burner for now to do it, it’ll still be worth it.”
We share a small smile, and the conversation reverts back to less intense topics as the drinks continue to flow.
It’s far too late into the evening—well, morning—when I stumble back to my room.
I should drink some water, or eat some bread to soak up the booze and make waking up in several hours less painful, but I’m too tired to even consider it fully.
Kicking my shoes off by my bedroom door, I remember to lock it behind me in case the boys try to burst in at the crack of dawn when they wake up.
Apollo and Rayna already promised to be up and ready to take care of them in the morning in case I need to sleep it off.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I nearly trip over my feet and reach for my belt.
Once only my boxers remain, I flip on my fan to help with my burning hot skin.
Flopping down in my bed with a groan, I drag a hand down my face and wince.
All that talk of hooking up and finding relief with a random woman has been playing on my mind since the topic came up.
I still hate the idea of meaninglessly fucking someone, but God, I know it would feel good in the moment.
To kiss someone who wanted it, to feel and squeeze a woman’s soft hips and smell the scent of her skin while exploring her body…
it might just be worth the regret I would feel after.
My dick twitches at the thought, fully on board with being touched and taken care of.
I can’t remember the last time someone other than myself touched my poor, neglected cock, and it was far too long ago.
“I will take a cold shower,” I threaten, looking down at the bulge tenting my boxer briefs. Grimacing, I shake my head and take a deep breath. “Get it together, Leon.”
Not wanting to encourage my body’s needs and desires by jerking off to the thought of a hot and heavy hookup, I roll over and bury my head into my pillow.
I know that if I go to sleep now, I’ll wake up and feel like myself again in the morning.
I’m good at burying my wants and needs, but doing so while drunk adds a whole new obstacle.
Loss of inhibition.