14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
H ow had Tate let this happen? How was he supposed to sleep when North was so close? When he could hear the man breathing? Why had he broken down and let North know he didn’t think he was pathetic? That pushing him away had hurt so fucking much?
He’d been afraid North would start demanding answers. Instead he’d been quiet. Accepting. Which was worse than any pressure. Whatever happened now was Tate’s choice and he had none. This tour was supposed to be goodbye, but North made it impossible to think beyond tonight. Beyond the sound of his soft breaths, and the way he looked so vulnerable on the sofa across the lounge area where Tate had made his new bed.
Choosing to sleep here had been his own way of punishing himself. Seeing the pain in North’s eyes was impossible to forget. He should keep his distance, but instead he’d found a way to keep North close.
Alder, Jesse, and Danica were in the back room, which the band had reconstructed so they could fit the leather sofa that folded out into a bed, which Danica’s agent had insisted on, in there. Three of the roadies were in the bunks Malakai, Brave, and Shiori should’ve had. They’d taken over one of the vans and rented another trailer to attach to the back of the bus for all the stuff that had been stored inside. The trailer also held everything from the second van, which Connor, Ballz, and Annette were sleeping in.
That had been trickier, because Ballz wanted Annette on the bus, but she’d insisted that if she wasn’t safe with him, she wouldn’t be safe anywhere. And Connor took her side. The air mattress on that van sucked, so they’d stopped at an outlet mall that had a mattress place and bought a new one that fit in the back of the van. Then the whole group drove out to a random truck stop hours away.
The roadies and security were taking turns watching the lot, but Tate refused to claim one of the beds. He fit better on the sofa than most of the big roadies and security guards.
Kace was smaller than North, so he’d tried to take the second sofa, but North volunteered before Tate did, insisting he could sleep anywhere. And damn him for being right, because him resting so peacefully was driving Tate insane.
“You need to quiet down the tossing and turning before you wake everyone up.” North whispered, making Tate jump. He let out a soft laugh. “Did you forget? I can’t sleep when I know you’re awake.”
“You looked like you were sleeping.” Tate scowled and folded his arms over his chest. He needed cookies. Or a walk. Or…something. Fuck, he was twitchy. Not good. But he tried to keep the irritation out of his tone. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not.” North sighed and pushed his blanket off. He stood slowly, moving as though the bus floor was made of wood that would creak, but it didn’t make a sound. He crouched in front of Tate, brow furrowed. “You’ve got some nasty cravings. The cookies aren’t helping, are they?”
Shit. North needed to not know that. Tate ground his teeth. “The cookies always help.”
“They did. But they hardly take the edge off anymore. Not when you’re stressed.” North braced his hands on his thighs. “I’ve been there. I never tried cookies though…”
Tate frowned. “Then what worked?”
“I… I never got to that point. If I didn’t have the money, I found a way to get it. And that was a good distraction.”
“What do you mean?” Tate sat up as North looked away. They’d talked about a lot when they were together, but never this. “North, talk to me.”
North pressed his eyes shut, speaking softly. “How can you ask me to do that?”
“Because I care about you.” Tate patted the sofa cushion beside him. “Come here.”
His words looked like they hurt North, and he hated that. But after a beat, North slid onto the sofa, leaning forward and rubbing his thighs again. He took a deep breath.
“I should have told you this before we did…anything. But…” North bowed his head. “I couldn’t. I liked the way you looked at me. The way you trusted me. I wanted to earn that trust.”
“You did.”
North arched a brow. “Did I?”
“Stop it.” Tate rested his head on North’s shoulder, pressing his eyes shut when North shuddered. “You want to tell me more. And I want to hear it. Please?”
North let out a soft groan. “You’re not being fair.”
“Neither are you.”
“I’m not the one who put you in the friendzone.”
“Is that such a bad place to be?”
Going still, North put his hand over Tate’s and swallowed hard. “No. I like this. It’s…better than what I thought I’d have.” He rested his head on top of Tate’s. “I hate how fucking cliché this is, but my parents are really religious. Right-wing, vote for Trump, hate immigrants and abortions and kinda hope Pence will take over because he’s their idol. They’ve always been that way, but I never really got it. We just didn’t talk politics when I hit my teens. I learned stuff online and they watched their ‘shows’.” He shrugged. “I read a tweet where some guy was saying people in the closet were cowards. They weren’t helping those who can’t come out. My parents had only grumbled about the gay pride parades at the time, but not much else. They didn’t say too much when I missed curfew. When I was caught stealing. When a girl stayed overnight in my room. I was a bad kid. Did all the bad things. So long as I prayed, things were fine.”
“Until you told them you’re bisexual.”
“Yup. Then it was like I’d burned the house down. And I almost did that once and they didn’t get this freaked out. I was trying to make my own firecrackers in the shed. I am not a chemist.” North held up his hand and pointed at a faint scar on his palm. “I could’ve really hurt someone, but they were all ‘boys will be boys.’ Until I said I like boys.”
“What did they do?”
“Sent me to church more. Had the priest over a few times a week. Then conversion therapy at a special ‘camp’.” North shuddered. “That was when I realized they weren’t the people I thought they were. First summer I learned to pretend. Second summer I escaped. But I’d been a spoiled little shit, so I thought I could use my credit cards. When they were cut off I thought I was gonna die. I was fifteen.”
“Fuck… Did you find a foster home?”
“Nope. I found a pimp. Worked for him for four years.” North’s tone tightened. “So…yeah. Finally saved enough to get a place. Got singing lessons. Started a band. But I was a hooker before that. I got paid to fuck.”
“North—”
“No pity. It was better than the alternative. I didn’t start doing drugs until I was off the streets. One too many dead bodies and I was scared to touch the shit. But when I had money I felt…immune. It’s weird.” He shook his head. “Sex didn’t mean anything, but I could enjoy it. Not worry about if someone was gonna stiff me. If I’d have to steal the money while they were sleeping because they didn’t want to let me go. But…when I got close to someone, I knew it was wrong. That I was a whore and I couldn’t let them.”
“Damn it, North.” Tate couldn’t stop himself. He fisted his hands in North’s shirt and shoved him on his back. Pinned him down. “Tell me you don’t think that way anymore.” North went silent. Tate shook him. “ Tell me .”
“I didn’t with you. I forgot.” North turned his head. Shrugged. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Yes, you should have. We’re friends, right?” Why was Tate starting to hate that word? He groaned, framing North’s jaw with his hand. “You made a living. Doesn’t matter how you did it. So what if you’re better at sex than typing or delivering pizza? You had to survive. And you did. And you were free.”
North’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never had someone compare sucking dick to delivering pizza.”
“Okay…maybe I’m wrong. But porn stars do it and they’re fucking cool.”
“They’re like actors.”
“Being paid for the same damn thing.”
“I…okay. Still wanted you to know.” North pressed his head back into the pillow. “And I don’t have a flesh eating disease.”
Tate chewed on his bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was…pissed. Derrick told me he was about to suck your dick before Jesse interrupted.”
“And you were jealous.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Yeah.”
Spitting out a laugh, North opened his eyes. “You know, you asked me to let you go. Wanted to be friends. And now you’re sitting on me and I’m very confused.”
Understandable. Tate really shouldn’t be doing this. But he’d missed North. He’d missed being held and not wanting a take a cheese grater to his skin. Missed not needing a high to tolerate being used. Missed waking up without being sore and not wanting to know why.
“Do I have to answer?” Not even one night and Tate couldn’t keep his distance. He let out a sigh as North’s arms settled around him. “I missed you.”
North stopped breathing. Held Tate tighter. Pressed his lips to Tate’s hair. “You can’t say things like that to me. I want to keep you.”
Tate laughed, even though it hurt. “Sure you do, Casper.”
“I do. But I know I can’t. Give me time to accept that.”
Don’t. Please don’t.
But Tate knew North had to. For both of them. “Do you want to go back to the other sofa?”
“Fuck, no.” North shifted. “But if I move are you gonna freak out and run away? You’re kinda squishing my kidney with your boney hip.” North let out a sigh of relief as Tate moved to lie next to him. Turned on his side to give Tate more space. “Good. Now stay there.” North rose, grabbed the crumpled blanket at their feet, and spread it over them both. Then he pulled Tate into his arms, lifting his leg to let Tate settle one between them and press in close. “This good?”
“Too good.” Tate burrowed his head against North’s neck. “The guys are gonna be weirded out if they see us.”
“That’s not what you’re worried about.”
“No.”
“Then stay.” North soft breath ruffled Tate’s hair. “Please stay.”
Tate did. But he knew one message from Ray would prove this was a mistake. He’d have to hurt North again to protect him. The day he said goodbye would do more damage. But he couldn’t stop it. Not when North holding him was the only thing keeping him from thinking about how little time he had.
“I’m here, North.” Tate’s eyes burned as North’s breaths reached the steady rhythm of sleep. “But I can’t stay.”