Chapter 25 #2
Coach gave us strict instructions to take quick showers and lights out. We have an early morning tomorrow, and it’s been a long, tiring day. I flee to the bathroom, shower fast, and change into pajamas.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Brody is sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. He looks up and watches me nervously fold my dirty clothes before putting them in my laundry bag.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
“Yeah,” I lie.
He studies me. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“Are you sore?”
“I said I’m fine,” I snap. I can’t do this right now.
I drop to the edge of my bed and run a hand through my damp hair.
He sighs. “I don’t like that you didn’t let me take care of you afterward. It made me worry that you were hurt and didn’t want to tell me.”
My head snaps up. “I said I wasn’t hurt. And I don’t need you to treat me like a girl.”
He rolls his eyes so hard I hear the muscles strain. “It’s called aftercare, and it’s a fully gender-neutral process. And that was your first time. It’s normal to have… You know, feelings about it.”
“I did not—”
“You clearly did,” he says gently, infuriatingly certain that he knows me better than he knows himself. “But you didn’t have to hide that from me.”
I hate how he sees through me. I hate it almost as much as I love it.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I repeat, in case he has any remaining concerns about that. Clearly, I was the one that hurt him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t make that clear. I just feel kind of confused. And the pressure to talk about it or have feelings about it is making it harder to process.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“I am too. I was kind of a dick after you were so good to me.”
Brody raises his eyebrow.
“Get over yourself, Miller. I just meant that you were kind, or whatever. You were just trying to take care of me, and I got in my head about it. I’m not used to anyone taking care of me.”
“I figured as much.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry I pressured you.”
“I don’t know that you did. It just… felt too big.”
His lips quirk, and I throw a pillow at him.
Desperate to change the subject before I combust, I ask, “How do you feel about tomorrow? Going against your old team?”
He exhales, leaning back on his palms. “Honestly? I kind of have mixed feelings about it. I liked it here. I miss some of the guys. Some of my friends who I’ve still kept in contact with will be coming tomorrow. It’ll be good to see them. But I feel like I’ve got something to prove, too.”
I always feel that way. I nod understandingly. “I can relate.”
“I know,” he says quietly. He moves to sit beside me on my bed, our knees brushing. He smells warm and comforting, like bar soap and laundry detergent and his cheap, spicy deodorant. How can he smell so good when he hasn’t even showered yet?
“I meant what I said about there being no pressure, Beckett,” he murmurs. “About any of this. You know that, right?”
And I do. It’s the one thing I’m completely certain of. Brody pushes me, yes. He takes control, yes, but only because he knows I want him to—need him to. He’s never truly forceful and would never cross that line. Somewhere, deep down, I trust him in a way that terrifies me.
Wanting to change the subject again, I bump my shoulder against his and ask him why he moved if he liked it here so much.
Brody sighs, and it’s like I can hear torment in that simple exhale.
“You know how Pierce is always cracking jokes about my family? The beer cans everywhere, stuff like that?”
“Yeah, I don’t really get the joke about your last name. Because his last name is Jamison, but you don’t see anyone making fun of him for that.”
“That my last name is Miller is really just fuel for the fire. My, uh—My dad was an alcoholic.”
“You said he died when you were little, right?”
Brody nods and looks down at the floor. “He died in a car accident.”
Oh. No. Does that mean he died because he…
“He died in surgery because his liver was so damaged, his blood wouldn’t clot and they couldn’t keep up with his blood loss.
” He clears his throat. “My dad was a good man. He wasn’t drunk when the accident happened.
No one else was hurt. As far as we know, he swerved to avoid hitting an animal, but when he ran off the road, he hit a tree directly in front of the Jamison’s property.
” Brody takes another deep breath. “During their insurance company’s investigation, they learned that his death was alcohol related, so they tried to claim more money in the insurance settlement.
They weren’t successful in getting more money, because the accident wasn’t alcohol related at all, but the whole mess started a lot of harmful rumors that caused a lot of problems. My brother Davis and I got bullied, my mom lost her job, and everything just got really, really hard. ”
And that was on top of losing their father.
I notice a tear fall down Brody’s cheek and scoot closer, slipping my hand into his to offer him any kind of small comfort.
I don’t even know what to say, other than to be disgusted that the Jamison family, who as far as I know are just as rich as my family is, would stoop that low over some minor property damage.
And to make fun of someone for having an alcoholic father is gross.
More than that, it’s outright abhorrent.
Before I can say anything to comfort him, Brody keeps going.
“My brother and I had very different reactions to what happened to our dad, and to the bullying. I found it easier to laugh things off, even though it hurt. But Davis got really depressed for a long time. Until he started drinking. And then somewhere along the way he started doing drugs.”
My heart clenches, and I let out a breath. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”
“At first it was just small stuff, like weed and getting really drunk here and there. Then he was taking something. I still don’t know what. It was scary, but also kind of a relief sometimes, because he started smiling again. So I was really mixed up about it.”
I know there’s more, so I stay silent, letting his fingers play with mine while he stares at the carpet and blinks back more tears.
“Davis started getting into trouble, but we still didn’t know how bad the problem had gotten.
My dad had a dependency problem, but he never got belligerent or caused any trouble.
He mostly drank because he had trouble sleeping, or at least I think that’s how it started.
And he never did drugs other than taking over-the-counter sleeping pills.
But Davis got wild, which didn’t make the rumor mill any kinder by the time I hit high school. ”
He clears his throat again, his voice getting weaker as he goes on. “This past summer, Davis OD’d.”
My breath catches, and my hand tightens around his.
“When he was in the hospital… It was like reliving the night my dad died.”
“But he’s okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, he’s alive, at least. And sober.
He went through a pretty intense rehab and moved back home in early October.
He’s struggling, but so far he’s been managing well enough.
That’s why I moved home. I just… I didn’t want to be this far away and not be able to help if anything else happens. ”
“Makes sense. I wouldn’t want to be far from them either.”
Brody swallows. “I really don’t care what anyone thinks about me,” he says. “But it’s really hard to keep myself in check when people talk about my family. If anyone found out that Davis—”
He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. I wouldn’t allow it to happen. Never again will I be able to stomach one of Pierce’s stupid jokes that turned out to be crueler than I could ever imagine.
The long, painful silence that permeates the space is unbearable. It’s suddenly more important for me to fill it than it is to take my next breath.
“I liked it.”
He freezes.
“I liked it,” I repeat, quieter this time. “But it scares me how much I liked it.”
His surprise melts into a slow, bright smile that spreads across his face almost menacingly. There’s the Brody I know and enjoy being around the most.
The pride, and possibly smugness, that radiates off him is so overwhelming I can’t bear for him to look at me, so I lean in and kiss him.
Brody takes the kiss eagerly, letting me take the lead. He opens his mouth to let me deepen it, but when I don’t make any moves to escalate, he seems to understand I’m not ready to take control to that extent.
He twists his body, placing a hand on my waist and pushing me back onto the mattress. One thick thigh pushes between mine and, in a move that nearly takes me out, spreads my legs apart to push in between them. I wrap my legs around him as his torso presses mine into the mattress.
He lifts my shirt from the bottom and pulls it up my body.
I raise my arms above my head so he can remove it, but he only wraps the shirt around my wrists and hands, pressing on them lightly to indicate I should keep them there.
Then he licks, nips, and kisses a slow, deliberate path down my jaw and neck, then down to my chest. He laves over each nipple, bringing them to hard, sensitive peaks before moving down to swipe his tongue into my belly button and tug on the short hair of my happy trail as he makes his way to the waistband of my boxers and sleep pants.
I never knew my hip bones were erogenous zones before this moment. Then again, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a spot on my body that wouldn’t respond to his touch. I’m pretty sure the top of my head is an erogenous zone right now.
Brody makes quick work of my pants and underwear, kissing and running his tongue over every crevice of my lower body except where I need him most. I whine and almost move my hands, fisting the fabric of the t-shirt to keep from following the instinct.