Chapter 10
TEN
Paxton
My finger throbs as I step into Atta Boy. Three stitches hold together the bloody wound I inflicted upon myself last night at Hartford’s. I couldn’t tell the hospital how I injured myself, so the storyline is that I was attempting home improvements.
The truth—I was so turned on that all my focus was on my hard dick and not the sharp knife in my hand. I’m surprised there was any blood left in my thumb, but the uncontrollable bleeding proved me wrong. It also made my hard dick vanish pretty damn fast.
Once again, things did not go as expected.
“Hey,” Brock says as I step behind the bar.
“Hey.”
“What happened to you?”
I glance down at my finger and shrug. “Decided to give home improvements a shot. Didn’t go so well.”
He crosses his arms, lifting an eyebrow. “What kind of home improvements?”
I should’ve come up with something more believable. They all know I don’t do home improvements. I contract someone else to do it.
I grin. “I was changing the mirror in the bathroom and it broke. Glass cut my finger. No big deal.”
He doesn’t appear to be buying my story at all, but he folds his arms over his chest. “Maybe Hartford can give you a sponge bath.”
Griffin laughs behind me, and I spin around. Griffin’s our head chef. He’s tight with Callum and Shepherd and like another brother to us. Growing up, he was at our house as much as we were.
“Oh, you think it’s funny, Griff?” I hold up my bandaged finger so he can get a look at it.
He holds his hands up, chuckling. “Cutting your finger? No. The thought of Hartford giving you a sponge bath? Yep.”
“At least I’d have someone to give me a sponge bath.”
Griffin shrugs as Brock wraps his arms around himself.
“I could get a sponge bath, but not from someone who I’m secretly in love with,” Griffin says, as he leans against the bar.
“I’m not secretly in love with her. We’re friends. Best friends. I don’t know how many times I need to clarify our situation to everyone.” I push past Griffin, done with the direction of this conversation.
“Pax, wait,” Griffin says, grabbing my arm so I don’t leave.
I spin around and raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“Your reaction to the teasing is why we do it. You know that, right?”
“My annoyed reaction to you guys thinking it’s unreasonable for a man and woman to have a relationship that doesn’t include sexual feelings?
Just because we are always together and she’s the only person I trust with my deepest, darkest secrets, you think it can’t possibly be friendship?
And the only reason I need her is because I want her?
” I take a breath, shaking my head. “Yeah, Griff, it gets fucking annoying.”
He gives a quick nod with a small grin on his face. “Got it, Pax.” As I walk away, he continues, “But when you defend it that hard, it comes across another way.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate feeling like I’m back in high school again, wanting her and having no one here I can talk to about it. My brothers wouldn’t understand, and even if they did, they would tease me relentlessly. It’s just how we are with each other.
I glance back at Brock and Griffin. “I’m heading out.”
“Oh, come on, Pax. Don’t leave,” Brock says.
“I stopped in to talk to Callum about the sale I made, but he’s not here, so I’ll catch up with him later. I have shit to do.” And by that, I mean getting the hell out of here.
“I’ll tell Callum you were looking for him, but Pax, have you forgotten how to take a joke?” Brock asks.
“Shit, what happened to you?” Tripp asks, stepping into the room.
I stare at Brock, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with everything going on with Hartford. “Couple small stitches from broken glass. I’m fine,” I say, still staring at Brock. “And I know how to take a joke.”
“Looks painful,” Tripp offers.
“It is.” I head out the back door of the brewery, needing to be far away from my brothers and their accusations. I need somebody real to talk to about this.
And not Hartford. I’d probably scare her if I tried to explain how I’m feeling right now. I don’t even know how I’m feeling.
I continue down Main Street until I spot my favorite coffee shop.
I step into Pour Some Sugar on Me and head to the counter. My finger throbs with each breath I take. The pain is a constant ache, which is a fitting reminder of my entire life right now.
A constant ache in my body. A constant ache in my heart. A constant ache for my best friend.
“Paxton, how are you?” February asks with a smile. I like February. I think she’s perfect for my friend, Harrison. He’s lucky to have found her. Even if their story was unconventional.
I laugh every time I think about their first meeting.
“I’m fine. Definitely in need of something strongly caffeinated,” I tell her.
“Everything all right?” Her blue eyes soften as she notices my finger.
“Oh this?” I hold up my hand. “I do it all the time. No big deal.”
“Pax, what’s going on?” Harrison interrupts, stepping out from a door near the register.
I turn to face him and nod. “Hey, Harrison. Place looks great,” I tell him, my eyes scanning the quaint-rustic coffee shop.
“Thanks. Took a bit to get open.” He wraps an arm around February. “It was worth it though.” He smiles at her, and she gazes up at him, and I instantly think about Hartford. What I wouldn’t give for her to look at me like that.
No, that’s crazy.
My head’s all kinds of fucked up.
“Got a minute?” I ask Harrison.
He drops his arm from around February’s shoulders, and nods. “Sure. Want some coffee?”
I order the pistachio latte, and once I’ve got my latte in hand I follow Harrison out the front door.
I follow him around the building to a small courtyard tucked behind the building.
There’s a picnic table set up with a string of lights running from the corner of the brick building to the top of the wooden fence separating the area from the next building.
“This is where February and I come when we need time alone. No one knows about it, yet. We plan on expanding and offering more baked goods, and people can come out here to eat them. It’s peaceful and private.”
“Sounds like a great idea.”
He takes a seat at a small wrought-iron table and looks up at me. “So talk.”
I sit down across from him and sigh. “There’s so much going on in my head that I feel like I’m going to explode.”
“What the hell happened?”
I scrub my face, regretting the decision when I put too much pressure on my finger. “This.” I hold up my finger. “I have three stitches.”
His eyebrows dip as he stares at me. “Okay…”
“I cut my finger with a knife. A knife I was using to cut Hartford’s clothes off her body.”
Harrison’s eyes widen as his mouth drops open. “I’m sorry, what?”
I groan, dropping my head back and staring up at the bright blue sky.
I take a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs, and look back at Harrison.
“That came out wrong. Everything is going wrong.” I rest my arms on the table.
“Hartford is writing an article about BDSM, and I volunteered to help her.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “That makes a little more sense, but Pax, what the hell are you doing?”
“That’s the problem, Harrison. I have no idea what I’m doing.
” I glance down at the wooden table for a second before lifting my eyes back to him.
“She wants to write the best article she can. She wants to prove her worth and her talent. I want to help her do that, so I volunteered to help her experiment with BDSM and learn everything we can to make her article amazing.”
“I’m gonna need more here,” he says.
“We’ve done a few things, which have gone terribly wrong.” I hold up my finger as an example and we both chuckle. “But—”
“But you want to keep doing BDSM with her?” he guesses.
I shake my head. “No, well, yeah, but it’s more than that.” I blow out a breath. “I want her, Harrison. I want her badly.”
“No shit,” he says with a hearty laugh. “You’ve wanted her for a long time. You just never admitted it.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Look, we're friends, so I don't want to cross that line with her.”
He smiles and points at my finger. “I need the full story on that later.” I chuckle, agreeing, and then he continues, “You’ve been pushing down your feelings for her since high school.
You’ve gotten so good at it that you convinced yourself you didn’t see her as anything but a friend.
To the rest of us, it’s pretty obvious. I’m not surprised that exploring BDSM with her has made you see her differently.
Made you realize what we all already know. ”
“This isn’t helping. I don’t know what to do here. What do I do?” I run my uninjured hand through my hair, hoping for eye-opening advice.
“Pax, it’s not my place to tell you what to do.
That is a decision you need to make for yourself.
The only advice I can give you is to follow your heart.
You know failure is something I fear most, but I’ve realized since meeting February that regret is just as scary.
I don’t want to look back and regret not taking the risk because of the fear of what the outcome may be.
I want to look back and know that I followed my heart.
” He grins. “I made sure she knew how I felt.”
He definitely did. I witnessed the start of their relationship and he couldn’t resist his feelings. It’s different for me though.
“It’s not the same thing. Hartford and I have been friends forever, Harrison. These feelings I’m having…I know it’s wrong. Our friendship is the most important thing. I’ll never cross that line, at least I don’t want to cross the line,” I admit.
If I lost her, I truly wouldn’t survive it.
She’s the one who knows my secrets. The one I run to when I need someone.
We have our inside jokes, our dinners, and our movie nights.
We get drunk together and dance together.
When I’m away, I miss her, and when I come back, I’m not home until I’m with her.
If I lost that, any of that, I’d lose myself.
I glance at Harrison and sigh. “I can’t lose her. If I told her how I feel and she leaves, that is something I’d regret forever.”
He frowns. “Well, shove it down, Pax. Bury your feelings like you always have. Just make sure it’s something you won’t regret.”
“She doesn’t want me, Harrison.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I shake my head, feeling my heart squeeze in my chest. “Yeah, man, I am.”
“So, maybe stop helping with BDSM,” he suggests.
“I got an invitation to Club Greed. Maybe it makes more sense for us to watch instead of doing,” I tell him.
He leans back a bit, shock clear on his face. “You got an invite to Club Greed? Take Hartford and see what happens.”
He’s right, I do need to go. I also need to bury these feelings I’m having. I can’t lose Hartford.
I’d rather feel this constant ache than regret and heartbreak.