37. THIRTY-SEVEN #2
My heart bleeds for him, at the hand he was dealt and the wrongs done to him. A thousand things come to mind, things I want to say and do, but he keeps going.
“So it isn’t that I didn’t try, Hunter. I did.
Nothing I did worked. Doors kept getting shut in my face even when they swore they wouldn’t.
I did what I had to—got caught up in trouble a couple more times, but not as bad.
Mostly assault and loitering. Imagine just trying to survive and you get fucking punished for it. ”
“I can’t, but I’m starting to.”
He lifts off my chest, finally releasing my skin, and looks at me. “I get it if you don’t want me here. No one else does.”
My head shakes vehemently. “Don’t think that. What happened doesn’t change anything for me, alright? Your worth isn’t measured by what you’ve had to do to survive.”
“You’d be surprised just how many people think the opposite.” He starts to move farther away, but I pull him back to me. “Hunter,” he rasps. “People fucking despise guys like me.”
“I’m not other people.” I wrap my arms around him completely.
Slowly, he returns the embrace. “You’re not,” he whispers. “And that’s what freaks me out. How do I know any of it is real and not my imagination?”
His sweet confession makes me smile. Finding his chin, I guide his face so he can see me when I tell him this.
“If it were your imagination, I wouldn’t be able to do this—” My mouth is inching closer, his breaths catch in his throat, and just as I’m about to kiss him, a loud, abrupt knock bounces off my front door.
I freeze as my heart plummets into my stomach. “Go to the guest room and do not come out,” I whisper.
Gray scowls, confused and unwilling to let me go. “What?”
“Shhh,” I hiss. “ Please . Please go to the guest room and stay there. I’ll get you in a minute.”
I pull his hands off me and jump to my feet as surge after surge of panic electrifies my system.
Gray’s entire demeanor changes, anger radiates off him as he gets up and walks to the room.
He turns at the last moment, about to say something, but I urge him with my stare to get inside.
A flash of hurt meets my terrified eyes before he disappears into the room with a soft click.
Raking at my hair, I approach the front door and peer through the peephole.
Brent.
What the fuck is Brent doing here?
Only moderately relieved it isn’t my dad, I rip open my front door.
Clad in his security uniform, I mentally recall the approximate time and realize his shift is over.
In the past, this was the time we’d meet at a hotel.
He’s never been to my house, never set a single booted foot on my porch.
“What are you doing here?” I bellow, quickly scanning the street, and hoping like fuck none of my neighbors saw him. “You can’t just show up here!”
“I’m sorry, but you didn’t answer my texts and—”
“I blocked your number!” It’s a harsh whisper-yell.
I can’t stop double-checking our surroundings.
I’m still reeling from thinking the worst—that my whole life was about to implode before I could even comprehend the damage.
It’s not Brent’s fault, but this entire day has rubbed me raw, pushed me to the brink.
I can’t contain the emotions any longer.
My lack of restraint causes a problem I didn’t need. “You blocked me? Seriously?” The boom of Brent’s voice is too loud.
If this continues, people will hear. None of my neighbors actually speak to me, but they know of me, which is enough for me to grab Brent’s arm and yank him inside my house. When the door shuts, my pulse only slowing a fraction, I spin on him.
“It’s within my right to do so, seeing as we aren’t anything to each other anymore.”
The flinch of his body is so strong that he takes a step back. “That’s not what you said when you were high on my dick.”
Pointedly glancing at his crotch, I growl, “ No dick is worth risking everything I’ve worked for.”
“Oh who the fuck is this?” Brent gestures at the hall as I twist to gape in horror. Gray is standing there, fuming. His thin shoulders rise and fall with his heavy breaths. His youthful features are overtaken by raw anger as he sets his jaw. “No dick is worth it? I think you just want young dick.”
“Leave. Leave now ,” I demand, thrusting my hand towards the door. I never should’ve brought him inside to begin with.
“You’re fucking pathetic, Hunter,” Brent spits. He takes a few steps to leave, but Gray says, “Hey!”
“Don’t worry, you can have him, kid. Everyone else has.”
I feel the insult like a punch to the stomach.
It’s intended to make me feel less than, disgusting, wrong.
What else am I meant to do, though? I can’t have a normal relationship; even if I could, I want a partner —an equal.
Brent could never be that. He’s too demanding, too selfish. I have enough of that in my life.
Gray walks over to us, hiding his limp, and steps into Brent’s face.
“How dare you?” The growl is vicious, sharp as a whip.
“You show up at his house unannounced, begging him to take you back—nah, don’t even try to pretend.
You want him back. Anyone would. But instead of taking the hint, bowing out with any level of fucking decency, you’re up in here insulting Hunter? You don’t get to talk to him that way.”
Surprise washes over Brent’s features. “Nice little guard dog, Hunter. Now call him off so I can leave. ”
Gray shoves at his chest. Hard. “Apologize, motherfucker.”
“Calm down. I’m going.” Brent faces me, and with all his sarcasm and bitterness, he says, “I’m sorry .”
With one final withering glare at Gray, Brent leaves. I lock the door behind him and thump my forehead against it. “Who the fuck was that?” Gray demands.
Begrudgingly, I mutter, “Brent.”
“Huh. I thought he’d be smaller.”
I slowly face Gray, ashamed of myself and how I cowered instead of defending both of us. “He’s never shown up like this before.”
“I could’ve laid him out, you know. I would have if he didn’t go.”
My eyes flick over his posture, still rigid, still angry. “I have no doubt.”
He seems to appreciate the recognition, some of the tension easing off, but not entirely. “Did you mean what you said?”
“Which part?” I don’t know what he heard.
“That no dick is worth risking your life for.”
That’s not what I said, but it was heavily implied. My hesitance to answer him doesn’t help either. In the heat of the moment, I did mean it. But looking at Gray—the only person besides my parents and Alex who I’ve allowed into my home—I don’t feel that statement applies. Not to him.
“No, Gray. I didn’t mean it.” The admission comes out as a soft rasp. He approaches me carefully, fingers slowly uncurling from where they’ve been clenched at his sides.
“Will there be more?” he asks when the tips of his socked toes touch mine.
“More?”
“Dudes showing up here.”
I shake my head. “Brent only knows where I live because he’s a security guard here.”
He frowns. “So that’s your M.O., then? Security guards?”
Blowing out a breath, I run my fingers through my hair, that slimy feeling from earlier returning. “I don’t have an M.O. It’s difficult for me to find…lovers,” fuck that sounds horrible, “who are willing to practice discretion.”
“Discretion,” he repeats. “Am I meant to do that too?”
“You aren’t them, Gray. Nowhere even close to it.”
“Then what am I?” he demands.
How do I put it into words that don’t sound like pacification?
How do I accurately portray everything he makes me feel?
I don’t think I can because most of it remains a mystery. He shouldn’t compare himself to the men I’ve been with; that part is true. There is no comparison.
My entire adult life, I have kept emotions out of it, exercising a carnal need for release and pleasure—a necessity to keep myself sane. As much as the religious like to preach about abstinence, it’s no way to live. So I only allowed myself to have something physical for a short while.
Gray is infinitely more than physical.
He makes me want to set aside my body’s needs so I can learn what he needs.
It’s as foreign to me as a new language—something I can’t even begin to comprehend, but I want to with everything in me.
Gray gives me a glimpse into the shadowy hollow I pretend doesn’t desperately wish to be set alight and full.
He gives me connection, recognition, and a profound sense of companionship while teasing me with intimacy.
I crave him.
I want him.
I fucking need Gray.
“You are everything,” I whisper.
His hands reach up, gentle fingers brush over my beard before cradling my cheeks. “I’ve never been anyone’s everything.”
“I want you to be mine,” I admit before leaning down and sealing the admission with a kiss.