Chapter 24
Blake
Five days later, and with another intense cornering from Silas under my belt, I was taking Marlow back home to what I could only describe as his ridiculously luxurious mansion in Ellington Heights.
Having only driven through this small town twice in my life as a kid, and being blown away both times at how opulent everything seemed, doing so as a fully grown adult was giving me much more of a flabbergasted feeling than when Marlow had told me he gave little shit’s as to how much money he’d ended up wasting on his wrong package deal.
The gated community leading up to his house, along with the hand on my thigh that squeezed every so often while Marlow hummed along to the radio, continued to toss me between nervous and pure contentment.
The car ride from the hospital was quiet but not awkward. No tension left hanging over us outside of my occasional heavy bouts of remorse.
For now, I’d focus on helping Marlow heal and push back whatever else swam inside of my brain, clogging it up from allowing happiness to creep back in. It was the least I could do after everything.
“This is where you live?” The words were out of my mouth the second the GPS was bringing us up the long drive. Ahead was a large, Tudor style mansion with a well-kept lawn and tastefully done curb appeal that lined along the entire front of it.
“What, you not a fan of brick?” Marlow teased.
“It’s so...” I shifted the car into park, staring through the windshield at it.
“Come on, the suspense is killing me.” He tightened his hand on my thigh.
“It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong. But I never expected you to live in something like this.” When I turned my attention over to him, I found him squinting at me.
“What, you expected me to live in a dump?”
“No, just a frat house.”
He slapped my thigh, sending pleasant tingles racing to my dick. “Funny. That was college.”
“I knew you came across as a fan of keg stands.”
He grinned. “Careful, Blake. I may just talk you into getting drunk with me. We’ll see how far my hands wander. I’m told I’m quite the flirt.”
“Can’t imagine what you’re like with loose inhibitions.” If that was even possible. A part of me suspected he was more the type to get others wasted than let himself get too hammered to not be in control.
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
Shaking my head, I slipped my hand under the handle of the door to pop it open, stretching once I was out in the fresh air. Silas had been weirdly nice enough to retrieve Marlow’s car for me early this morning, literally throwing the keys at me on his way in for his shift.
‘Don’t crash it or Avery really will sue you’ was the only thing he’d said to me before disappearing beyond the staff doors.
I had yet to meet Marlow’s other friend officially, but from the sound of it, the man was just as terrifying as Silas was. Maybe even more so with the amount of money and resources he apparently had.
Shoving my door closed, I came around to the other side where Marlow was already trying to struggle his way out of the car, completely ignoring the crutches that were tucked into the backseat.
I shoved him back into the car, smiling a little at the grunt I received in return as I opened the back door.
“I don’t want those things,” he complained.
“I’d love to carry you but you weigh too much for me to properly balance you.” The rubber stoppers on the bottom slammed against the side of the door as I pulled them out, forcing me to hold back a wince while slamming it shut.
What were the chances Avery did an inspection on Marlow’s car to make sure I wasn’t fucking it up in other ways outside of crashing it?
He gasped dramatically. “Blake, are you calling me fat? What the hell, I thought you were supposed to be all about body positivity.”
“Nice try.” I shoved the crutches into his hand. “You want help standing up?”
“No.”
I eyed him carefully. “You sure?”
He seemed to think about it for a second, moving the crutches to his sides while measuring how exactly he was going to get himself from sitting half tucked inside of his car to rolling up onto his feet and fitting each pad under his arm.
Silas had forced him to practice a few times while still in the hospital but now he was all on his own.
Thankfully, the only thing that had actually come out broken was his leg that had needed to be reset surgically. Pins and screws were holding it together while it slowly healed, carefully protected under his cast, which reached all the way up to above his knee.
A miracle, really, that the rest of him had only been badly bruised and sprained, and by now, was on its way to healing completely.
If that wasn’t sheer luck, I couldn’t fathom what was.
“Okay,” Marlow mumbled, finally tugging himself out from the car.
I stood back to give him room, keeping my arms out to catch him if he ended up tipping over from the weird displacement of weight. The way his cast was fitting around him had his leg permanently bent at a slightly odd angle, remnants of how truly bad his fall had been.
According to his x-rays, his leg had taken the brunt of the impact, saving him from completely shattering his ribcage and arms on the way down. He’d be in a cast for at least three months, with the possibility of having permanent screws in his leg for the rest of his life afterward.
At the time, he’d joked about being half robotic, his spirits barely taking a hit when he’d been given a close-up view of his x-rays after Silas had personally brought them to his room to show him the work he’d done.
That was all to say that despite the seemingly giant setbacks, Marlow was barely letting it slow him down.
“Got it?” I asked.
He hobbled slightly before getting a good balance going. “Better watch out, Blake. I’m going to be faster than you with these things.”
I smiled, even with my heavy heart. “Let’s see how well you do with stairs and then we can talk.”
“You’re on.”
Settling into Marlow’s home was weirdly easier than I expected.
Upon first glance of the outside of it, it felt more structured and rigid, not at all fitting the man who lived inside of it. However, the second the front door was opened and that deep scent of Marlow hit me, things began to feel strangely like home.
His decor was, while tasteful, still uniquely him. The bold colors and over-the-top design quality spoke of a man who wasn’t afraid to think outside the box and live life to the fullest extent, bleeding that same mindset into the rest of whatever he touched.
I liked being here more than I missed being back home.
What did that say about me?
I had the sense in me to be wary of how easily I was falling into a routine only hours into arriving.
Giving in to the want and desire of molding myself into his life was natural enough for me to forget all about it, until the stark reminder that I’d need to go back to Wakefield eventually hit me the second I’d caught my own reflection in one of the passing mirrors.
Maybe it was a bad idea to agree to any of this, to kid myself into thinking taking care of Marlow would be a simple thing and not end with me giving myself yet another existential crisis.
My granddad had already given me the green light to take as much time as I needed, and the rest of my staff were simply relieved to hear of Marlow’s harrowing survival to be upset that I was taking time off during the busiest season we were open.
I only wished I could’ve finished out seeing the end of my youth group’s tournament. From Talos’s recount, it had gone on without a single hitch—an impressive feat I wasn’t so sure I could claim responsibility for even after his heavy insistence.
Nonetheless, I hoped next year we’d have an even better turn out.
Warm lips ghosted along the column of my neck. “Here I thought I’d find you cooking lunch, only to catch you overthinking the pasta to death.”
I winced.
How the hell was he able to sneak up on me with those damn crutches?
I wasn’t that lost in thought... was I?
He trailed his mouth up to my jaw, nipping slightly at the skin there before moving up to the spot right below my ear. “Camp got you worried?”
A damn open book. I had to get better at that. It wasn’t fair that I had all my cards out on the table so readily available to him.
Where was the mystery? The hint of intrigue?
“Sort of. I talked to Talos this morning before we left the hospital. He said everything was fine. I just...” My voice trailed off.
“Next year, Blake,” Marlow murmured, reading me instantly. “Maybe you can even get a few sponsors to host your event to make it even bigger than this year’s. That would be cool.”
I wanted to melt back into him. Let him pamper me like he’d promised to do when he’d told me to leave my worries and my control at the door.
Stepping into that dynamic again, allowing myself to give everything over to a man as capable of taking care of me as Marlow had proven in the past to be capable of, felt so damn right it hurt.
“Aren’t I supposed to be taking care of you?” I mumbled.
He snickered. “Two-way street, hm? I think that’s fair. Plus, this was just my bribe to get you to come home with me.”
“You didn’t need to do all of that.”
“How else was I going to get you to come see me again?”
I turned to look over my shoulder at him, surprised. “You thought I was going to ghost you?”
He shrugged, a playful smile teasing his lips. His eyes were telling a different story, though, one that was tinged with uncertainty and worry for whatever rejection he was expecting to come.
Had I been so damn avoidant that he’d believed I’d do something like that? Even after all of this?
‘Friday was really rough for me’. He’d told me that much over the radio.
How deeply had I hurt this man after running away?
Turning away from the stove, I reached forward to slip my fingers into his hair, bringing him down to kiss me. His lips fit against mine perfectly, his head tilting to the side just enough to deepen it and send a shiver racing up my spine.
Whatever these next three months brought, I’d do whatever I could to make things up to Marlow. He meant too much to me to let me see him suffer, even due to my own insecurities and self-preservation.
I hoped I could make things right.
Even if it was only until he got better and moved on to big and brighter things after me.