Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
M ac
I could get used to having dinner at my mum’s regularly. Not only for the delicious dinner, which is excellent as usual—I’d not realised how much I missed her cooking until I tried it again—but also because it feels more like the home I remember as a boy. More memories seem to reappear every time I visit.
I have a settled feeling when I sit at the kitchen table with Mum and Levi, though he is a distraction. I can’t describe it, but as an adult I’ve never felt at home like this with other people. Nolan has been the closest person to me in my adult life, so much that I almost feel like he could be family.
I can’t talk much about work, with most of it being classified, and I don’t have much of a life outside of that, so my contribution to the talk during dinner is meagre. But I enjoy seeing my mum and Levi talk. He didn’t have much of a home life, so this seems good for him. He’s lost the pained look he had when I first met him; he looks happier and all the more beautiful for it.
Levi starts to tell of his day, which included visiting a college he’ll be attending in the new year. I quietly watch as my mum questions and encourages him. A sadness lingers that she never got to do that for me when I see how much she enjoys the role.
“Do you want any more, love?” My mum asks as I place my fork on my empty plate, but I can’t manage another mouthful.
“No thanks, Mum. I’m stuffed,” I say and her smile says it all. She turns to Levi and tries the same tactic on him, but I’ve seen him easily put away as much food as me. Not that I’ve been watching, definitely not. I know my mum loves feeding people and a strange notion comes to me; it’s only a few weeks until Christmas. I haven’t had Christmas dinner with my mum since I left. I usually spend it with Nolan, and in recent years Cliff, but this year there is no Cliff and I don’t know how Nolan will feel about the festivities. Nolan loves the holidays and other occasions, but this year has been hard for him. I want to spend it with him of course, that’s been our tradition since we became friends, and I wonder if my mum would host Christmas dinner if we came here. And this year there could be Levi too, though he might be working. Levi, who’s spent the last hour within touching distance. Not that it makes any difference; I’m successfully not thinking about touching him—not in his presence anyway. When I’m alone it’s a completely different story. But Levi is out of bounds, so I make sure when I’m near him I stay as neutral as possible, although it’s tough.
I make the decision to bring the subject up, even though I know it will be a lot of work for her. I’ll help, though not much as I’m an awful cook. That was always Nolan’s part in the festivities, but I can follow directions.
Mum rises to clear the dishes. “Leave them, Mum. I’ll do them in a minute. I have something to ask first.”
She places the serving plate next to the sink and turns, waiting for me.
“It’s about Christmas. . .”
Her gasp stops me from continuing.
“You want to come here?” The hope in her voice breaks my heart a little and I’m glad I brought it up.
“Yes, please. Though I don’t want to put you to lots of trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
“And I might want to bring a friend because I usually spend Christmas with him and he’s alone this year.”
In answer she takes the two steps across the room and crushes me into a hug even though I’m still sitting down.
“Having my baby home for Christmas would be the best present ever. I don’t care if you bring a dozen friends.”
“I don’t have a dozen friends, Mum,” I say when she finally releases me, and I look up at her, seeing the dampness in her eyes and the joy on her face, pleased I did the right thing by asking.
“Well, whatever friends you do have are most welcome,” she says. “Just let me know so I can plan.”
“We can help as well,” I say, determined to make sure I’m not dumping all the extra work on her without offering.
She nods her acknowledgement and then mutters something about making a phone call, which I can imagine is her rushing off to tell her friends about it.
All I have to do now is check in with Nolan. I also wonder about Reece. This is such a new thing, the thought I might have a brother. Being a cop, I want the evidence, but the facts are lining up. We had a long chat in the pub, long enough for them to be asking us to leave. He was going to speak to his father, a task he didn’t look like he’d enjoy, but he was going to see if his dad—perhaps our dad—could corroborate the story my mum told me, and then we would take it from there. I’m being cautious. I found, talking to Reece, that I like him a lot. We’re scarily similar. But I’ve been disappointed before, so I don’t want to get too excited at the possibility of a brother without knowing for sure. He did say he had no siblings, despite his mum wanting more kids.
What I don’t know is whether or not to tell my mum about him. Certainly not yet, not until I know for sure. But even if it were true, would she want to know about him? Would it cause her pain? Though she certainly seems to have no love for my father, so I doubt it. And as Reece told me, his parents split a long time ago, while he was still in high school, so it’s not like my presence would be causing a rift there.
“Do you want to wash or dry?” Levi’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts about Reece, and I look up to see him holding the bottle of washing up liquid in one hand and a tea towel in the other.
I’d forgotten about helping with the dishes, and while I’ve been sitting there Levi has cleared the table and stacked everything up.
“Sorry, I was going to do that,” I say and he gives a chuckle.
“Too late, now which is it?” He lifts his hands, indicating the choice he’s given me.
“Washing,” I say and rise. I reach for the bottle, which brings me in close proximity to Levi—too close—and I pause, almost chest to chest with him. He doesn’t move either, and I see the challenge in his face, the storm in his eyes, and it captivates me like it always does.
Pull away. Pull away . I see the side of Levi’s mouth curl slightly and he pushes the bottle towards me. My hand touches his as I take it from him and my skin tingles from the contact, then he backs away from me and I can breathe again. I daren’t even look at him as I wash the dishes. Being close to him isn’t getting any easier, and staying far away seems the best option. Maybe having dinner here isn’t such a great idea and maybe not the Christmas dinner I’ve just asked for my mum to arrange. But reconnecting with my mum has been good for both of us. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let an infatuation with a witness ruin that. I’ll just have to get better at my self-control. I feel more sessions at the gym and a date with the punching bag in my future.
In order to not get lost in my own head, which is a dangerous place right now, I decide talking to Levi will be a sensible option. Maybe if I get to know him more, the magnetism I feel every time he’s near will go away. There’s a part of my brain that knows this is a bad plan but I silence it anyway.
“Good news on the college course,” I open with. It sounds lame to my ears and I curse myself for not being good at small talk. His hands still on the plate he’s drying.
“Yeah? Is it?” It comes out as a whisper and I turn my head sharply to him. He looks at me with a bottomless expression, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, and it feels almost as if he’s seeking my approval, like my opinion matters in some way.
“I think so. It’s something you want to do, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then if it’s important to you, you should do it,” I say, catching his lips forming a small smile before I turn my attention back to the washing up. I’ve seen too many people who’ve been through juvie and prison who can never seem to break free of the cycle. I’m seriously impressed that he seems determined to do that. Perhaps I should have said that, but it would make me sound very much like the cop I am and for some reason I don’t want that vibe between us. Even though it would be the safest, I can’t bring myself to do it.
After we’ve tidied the kitchen, my mum seems to have finished all the phone calls she needs to make. She asks me to stay a little longer, and I’m reluctant to leave this cosiness so soon, so I agree. We end up watching a couple of old episodes of CSI, and I have no idea what’s going on but Mum and Levi do, so it’s amusing to watch them discuss it and make predictions on the plot. They distract me from pointing out the inaccuracies, which I’m sure wouldn’t have been welcome.
It’s late when I think it’s time to leave. Levi had given up half an hour ago, yawning and claiming he was tired, but before I go I need to visit the bathroom, the effect of too much tea and the prospect of a long drive on a cold night. I tread lightly up the stairs, knowing how much this old cottage creaks and not wanting to wake Levi if he’s fallen asleep. After I’ve finished, I’m just about to creep back down the stairs when I notice the door to my old room is slightly open and I can see lights flickering inside. Even though it’s only a tiny cottage, I forgot my old bedroom would be the one Levi’s been using. The thought of it sends a little thrill through me and I find myself drawn closer. Through the gap I can see Levi sprawled out on the bed, and from this angle I’m behind him so he won’t see me unless he twists round. The room is dark except for the light from a TV on the wall opposite, but it’s light enough for me to appreciate how gorgeous Levi looks. Though I should go, I stay for a few more heartbeats, and just as I’m about to move away, Levi moves one of his hands and runs it across his belly. It’s a caress, and I watch as he lifts his T-shirt up exposing his stomach. I catch a glimpse of the patterns adorning his skin, the ones I’ve wanted to catch sight of for weeks, and I can’t look away as he lifts his shirt further, gently stroking his skin. After a few minutes he sits up, and I pull back sharply, ready to move if he turns my way. Instead he pulls the T-shirt over his head, and I stifle a gasp as I see the tattoos on his back as well. Even in the darkness I can tell they’re beautiful, and I ache to touch them, to trace them with my fingers. Levi settles back down on the bed and I can see them covering his chest.
I ought to go. This is wrong, watching him. I make a promise that I’ll tear myself away after one more deep breath, but then he leisurely runs his hand across his chest, down over his abs... and he doesn’t stop there. He continues down and cups himself, and that’s when I notice how hard he is. As if he makes a decision, he unbuttons his jeans and eases them down, lifting his arse up off the bed to work them past his hips, sliding his boxer briefs with them.
The tattoos extend over what I can see of his thighs, but they’re not what has my attention. That’s taken entirely by his hand, which is palming his hard cock. He swipes a thumb over the head and my breath hitches. With his other hand he reaches for a tube he has close by, and I see him squirt lube onto the tip and work it down, coating the whole of his shaft. Then he wraps his hand around it and begins a smooth motion up and down, adding a small twist to the top. Deep down I know how wrong this is, but there’s no way I can move. I’m frozen to the spot, my eyes glued to the wonderful sight of the head of his cock disappearing and reappearing out of his hand. I shift slightly, needing to ease the discomfort from my own cock, which is pressing on my jeans. Watching him, I want to do the same, but for now I press down on my cock, trying to alleviate the ache. This show is giving me enough jerk-off material to last for weeks.
He speeds up and I can hear his breath coming in ragged gasps. His abs tighten and I see his thighs shake. God, he’s so beautiful. What I would give to be able to do that to him, to have him writhing beneath me, my touch bringing him to climax. His back arches and I can see his eyes close, a silent cry on his lips. Then he collapses back onto the bed, cum adorning his chest. I rest my forehead on the door frame, feeling almost as spent as he must be.
My mouth is dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I try to swallow. My legs feel wobbly and I’m not sure I can move—almost not caring. Levi suddenly moves, though. Grabbing his T-shirt, he cleans himself off and pulls his jeans back over his hips, tucking his spent cock back in and out of sight, which is a shame. He stands, throwing the T-shirt into something out of my line of sight. He’s coming towards the door and I ease back so I’m no longer resting against the frame. If he comes out now, goes to the bathroom, he’s going to see me, but it’s too late for me to move. I hold my breath.
The door doesn’t open, he doesn’t even look my way. Slowly, he just pushes the door, and shuts it in my face.