Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
brANTLEY
Iswallow down my nerves as I wind down the treacherous Mount Baker roads and into Flurry. We drive by the car shop, Fi’s little red BMW sitting in the parking lot.
Fi sighs as we pass. “Bye, baby. We’ll be back for you soon.”
Turns out that the call to Bastian’s phone this morning was the mechanic letting us know that he had to go to a neighboring town for a part, so it’ll be another day or so before Fi’s car is fixed.
The snow comes down in thick gusts as we leave Flurry behind. I turn right off the highway and onto a road running parallel to the mountain. I can hardly see the pavement beneath the tires, and I know we’d be fucked in this weather if not for my truck.
“This is something else,” Seb mutters, peering out the passenger window.
I flick the wipers on high. “Yeah, it’s always a little colder this far north, but you’re right, this much snow is pretty rare.”
We lapse into silence, the radio playing a throaty Goo Goo Dolls song.
“Where are we going, B?” Fi asks after a few minutes. Her warm hand rests on my thigh, her fingers rubbing my jeans nervously. Whenever we hit a bump in the road, her grip tightens.
“You’ll see.” I smile at her annoyed huff. “It’s not far, like maybe thirty more minutes at this speed.”
We continue on, hills on our left and expansive farmlands on our right.
I don’t tell them when we pass my childhood home.
My dad owns several acres out here, and it’s easy to spot the dark brick mansion looming against the white snowscape.
Five more minutes, and I turn down a tree-shrouded driveway, past a small pond, and pull in front of a rundown gray rancher.
I swallow as I stare at it, childhood memories sharp as I take it in.
“Wow,” Sebastian snarks. “We traded one old house in the woods for another.”
Fi elbows him and looks at me expectantly.
I just turn off the truck, then climb out. My eyes sting with tears as I approach the pond, and I hear footsteps behind me as Fi and Bastian follow.
“Aiden and I used to come here when we wanted to be alone,” I say quietly.
I nod to my right. “Our families lived just up the road, about a ten-minute walk, and we found this place one afternoon when my dad was being particularly dickish. It was abandoned as far as we could tell, though I later found out the owner was in hospice care, so he wasn’t around.
” Fi slides her hand into mine, and Bastian steps closer to me, his body warmth comforting as I continue.
“In the summer, we swam in the pond, and in the winter, if it got cold enough, I would skate.” I chuckle.
“Aiden didn’t know how to skate, but he’d sit on the shore and give a play-by-play in his best announcer voice, like he was narrating a hockey game.
” I pull the little brass key from my pocket and turn it over in my hand.
“When I finally started making an NHL salary, I reached out to the owner’s son and bought it for way more than it was worth. ”
Fi tugs at my hand, a worry line creasing between her eyes as she studies me. “B, I told you that we can’t go anywhere with connections to one of us.”
I smile. “I put it in Aiden’s name, so I’m not on the deed.”
We turn together and walk to the house.
Do you still keep in touch with him then?” Bastian asks, his hand grazing the small of my back as we walk. It makes me feel unexpectedly light.
“Yeah, we found each other on social media around the time I started at Whitmore U, and we kept in touch until my accident.” I step up to the wraparound porch and unlock the door, pushing it open.
“He stopped talking to me after that, or rather, I stopped talking to him.” I swallow at the memory.
All the texts and calls that I ignored. I’m positive that I hurt him.
I was such a fucking mess. “He and his boyfriend come up here in the summers, I think.”
The place is tidy but dated. It looks like a living room from a nineties sitcom—tan carpet, a baby-blue plaid couch, an old leather arm chair, and a blocky TV perched on a dusty VCR.
“Shit, does that thing still work?” Fi drops my hand and scampers over to the VCR. She sticks her finger in the tape slot with a giggle. “I’ve never seen a one of these in real life, just in old movies.”
I smile. “The previous owner just sold me the place as-is, so it’s got a bunch of nineties gems that his parents hoarded. I don’t think Aiden’s made many upgrades over the last few years.”
While Sebastian and Fi wander back outside to unload the truck, I fiddle with the heat. After a few minutes, the baseboard heaters kick on, emitting a faint burning smell.
“Is it supposed to smell like that?” Seb asks, his arms full of brown grocery bags. He sets them on the counter and starts unloading onto the kitchen island.
“I think it’s normal,” Fi says as she walks in carrying our bags. She drops them by the door and pushes her hair out of her eyes. “Especially if the heat hasn’t been used in a while.” She walks down the hall, disappearing into one of the rooms.
I smile as Bastian snoops through the cabinets and opens drawers. I can tell he’s assessing the space to decide what he can cook later.
He frowns and gives me a look. “Can the next place we stay be just a little more modern? These old electric stoves and shitty frying pans are killing me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “The next place? I seriously hope we don’t have to go anywhere else before this is over.”
“Bad news, guys,” Fi says, peeking out of the doorway with a knowing grin. “Only one bed.”
Bastian and I share a look, and walk to the bedroom. A king-size four-poster bed greets us. The room has a rocking chair, a dresser, and a very old exercise bike sitting in the corner.
“At least it’s bigger,” I say with a smirk, grabbing Bastian’s hand and pulling him toward the bed. He stops short before I can sit, and I let go, falling backward onto the red and brown patchwork quilt. I raise myself on my elbows and give him a questioning look.
His eyes drop to his hands as he fidgets nervously, looking completely lost, and my heart squeezes. It’s so strange when Sebastian shows this hesitant, nervous side.
“I wasn’t suggesting—” I start. “Well, okay, I was. But we don’t have to…”
Fi walks up to him. Bastian steps away slightly, his back hitting the wall. His expression is unreadable as he stares down at her, and his gaze flickers to mine. I wink.
He licks his full pink lips and leans in like he wants to kiss her, but stops just as their mouths graze.
“Seb. Please.” Her voice husky with lust.
He peruses her face, as if memorizing the details, his eyes full of ice-blue fire. Then he drives his lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair, tugging and twisting. She grips his cheeks, a fiery, animalistic need controlling her movements.
I fucking love it when she takes control, and Bastian seems to love it too.
He pushes her coat off her shoulders, and then his fingers trail along her sweater, pausing when he reaches the swells of her breasts. He cups them through the soft material, and she groans into his mouth.
My cock hardens painfully in my jeans as I watch them, and I kick off my shoes and take off my coat, eager to be part of whatever is about to happen.
“Fuck,” Sebastian mutters, pulling away to catch his breath. He palms his dick with a grunt and pops the button on his jeans.
Fi’s hand drops to his bulge and rubs. His head falls back when she applies more pressure. She yanks his zipper down and pushes her hand into his boxers.
Bastian’s eyelids flutter and he shivers and thrusts into her grip.
I love the sounds Fi pulls from him with every twist of her wrist. I slide my hand into my boxers and give myself a stroke, electric pleasure pulsing through my body.
Bastian leans forward, kissing her again fiercely, his tongue licking between her lips, and she opens for him, the kiss greedy as they melt together.
My hand shuttles faster, my dick so fucking hard it hurts. I squeeze the base of my cock and breathe, trying to hold off my orgasm.
Fi shoves Bastian’s pants and underwear down, her strokes becoming even more aggressive. They break apart, and he whimpers.
“Shitshitshit.” Bastian’s abs tighten, and he comes, his cheeks flushed. His release coats Fi’s hand and his stomach, and I try my best to hold off my own pleasure, panting with the effort.
Fi brings Bastian’s cum to her mouth and sucks it off her fingers. His eyes widen as he watches her, and then they both look over at me. I’m still lounging on the bed with my jeans around my ankles and my legs hanging off the end.
“My turn?” I ask hopefully, and Bastian chuckles, a lazy smile lighting his lips. I give him a tentative grin. “You doing okay, grumpy bear?”
He nods as he grips Fi’s hand, and they walk to the bed, sitting down on either side of me.
I push myself up, my cock smearing precum across my abs.
Fi goes to work pulling my shirt off and tossing it aside while Bastian grabs my cock and gives it a squeeze, his rough palm stroking me firmly.
I fall back, arching off the bed as he lights fire in my veins, my whole body tingling.
“Fuck, baby,” I pant. “Your hand should not feel this good.”
Fi laughs at my comment and lowers her head to my chest, her hair tickling my flushed skin. She kisses my right pec and takes my nipple into her mouth, biting and nibbling. I whimper as her warm tongue swirls around it, my senses completely overwhelmed.
Bastian gives me another stroke, and I groan loudly, but then he stops. I peer around Fi’s head to find him staring hungrily at my cock, his eyes dilated.
He looks up at me. “Can I?”
I nod eagerly. “God, yes.”
Fi switches to my other nipple, and I whimper because, shit, I could come from this alone.
“I’ve never—,” Bastian says, licking his lips nervously. “I want it to feel good for you.”
“I’ll help you,” I breathe. “Just, put your mouth on me. Please.”