21. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
M organ had expected Lex to be back at the house—the familiar sight of that beat-up white car waiting for him in the driveway like a promise. But it wasn’t.
Inside, Kate’s voice cut through the silence as soon as the door shut behind them. The edge in her tone—rare and biting—was the first real spark of anger he’d heard from her in years. “I know what’s going on between you two. I see it, Morgan. I’m not blind.”
Morgan took his time as he undid the buttons of his coat. The smooth, round texture gave him something to focus on, something to keep himself tethered. He didn’t want to think about where Lex had run off.
“Really,” he said at last, pulling off the leather gloves one finger at a time.
“I don’t…” Kate paused, and he heard her heels click on the floor as she paced behind him. “We talked about this. I understand I can’t meet all of your needs.”
“We did. So what is your problem now?”
“My problem is that it’s Le—Alexander. It’s not some… some guy you met. It’s your brother.”
f“Stepbrother,” Morgan corrected as he unwound the scarf. Winter always came with an annoying amount of extra layers—things he didn’t need but chose to wear all the same. It was an aesthetic option for him, rather than a necessary one.
And now it came in handy as another way to avoid this conversation. The mechanical movements filled the space inside of his mind, staving off the rampant, burning thoughts a little longer.
The noise that escaped Kate could’ve been a dry laugh or a scoff. “Yes. Stepbrother . But… it’s still unnatural. Can’t you choose someone else, Morgan? He’s sweet. And kind. He’s your family.”
Sweet and kind were two words Morgan would never choose for Lex.
No .
Morgan may have hidden behind smart quips and polite gestures, pushing down the festering sickness inside until he couldn’t anymore. But Lex? Lex didn’t repress like he did. He wielded his boyish looks and naivete, smiling as the world adored him, only to weaponize them when the need arose.
Monsters came in all shapes and sizes, after all.
Hanging the scarf neatly on the hook first, and then the coat, Morgan kept his tone even. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“We’re supposed to be engaged—”
“Who wanted that, Kate?” He snapped, turning his head to her. “Who begged for that to happen?”
Her face flushed deeper with every passing second, lips parting as if to fire something back. But no words came. The silence that followed was proof that she knew, just as much as he did, that their entire relationship was nothing short of a charade.
“Aren’t you getting bold? Do you see how Lex acts? Do you think you can get away with the same kind of behavior as he does?”
“Morgan—” Kate started again, and if he let her continue—if he let her press harder—he was going to break one or both of them.
“Go to bed. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Her voice softened. “Are you coming?” she asked. She had slipped firmly back behind the line she dared to cross.
“Later.”
The third step on the stairs creaked repeatedly and he didn’t need to look to know Kate was shifting there, rolling over what she wanted to say.
“If you’re waiting up for him, I’m sure he’s with Wendy. They’re good together. I wish you could understand that. ”
The click of the door shutting echoed in the foyer as Morgan stood frozen in place, staring down at his clenched fist. His fingers wouldn’t loosen from around his keys, sharp metal edges imprinted into his palm. Dotted with blood.
Good together.
The phrase resounded in his ears as he crossed into the kitchen, each time more insidious, more grating. A fly buzzing inside his head that he couldn’t swat away. He couldn’t stop hearing it. Couldn’t stop feeling it.
Good together.
He poured himself a finger of brandy, watching the amber swirl around in the glass like it held all of the answers he needed. The taste did nothing to dull the thrum in his chest as he tossed it back.
Wendy.
Lex didn’t belong with her.
Lex didn’t belong to her.
Lex belonged here . With him. To him.
Wendy didn’t know him—not really. She didn’t understand how Lex’s mind worked, how he craved attention like oxygen, how he thrived on the dark and dangerous. She didn’t know how to handle him.
She certainly didn’t know him like Morgan did.
Had his ego faltered when she got too close? Had his breathing stopped entirely when she brushed their lips together? Was he desperate for her even in the worst of situations? Of course not. Because it wasn’t Wendy who held the strings to Lex.
It was Morgan .
Lex could play the role of dutiful boyfriend as much as he wanted, but it wasn’t what he truly wanted. It wasn’t what he needed .
Morgan set the empty glass on the counter, the mess brewing inside his mind quieting. His little brother didn’t belong in the bright, waking world. He belonged in this one—Morgan’s world. Lex appreciated the shadows more than the light.
Headlights, brighter than the sun itself, shone through the living room windows when Lex finally pulled in. Stirring himself away from the strong hands of sleep, Morgan checked his watch: a little after one in the morning.
The weight of Lex’s decisions pressed through the walls. The kind of weight that settled behind his eyes, refusing to leave. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want confirmation of what he already knew.
But he would if that guaranteed one more crack in Lex’s carefully constructed armor.
The front door shut and Morgan cleared his throat.
“Did you have fun? Or was she not drunk enough for your liking?” he called out, listening to the soft sound of Lex’s sneakers slow near the stairs. They stopped, squeaking against the wood floor as Lex backed up and turned toward the living room.
Lex’s long legs and shoulders appeared before he did, brows scrunched down over his eyes when Morgan saw his face. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Stop playing deaf when the answer doesn’t suit you. ”
“Morgan,” Lex started with an annoying little shake of his head, “you don’t know everything, alright? I was—”
“No. No. Let me guess. It’s far more amusing to watch you crumble when I hit the nail on the head.” Morgan could hear the venom in his voice, but there was no stopping it. That sick, dark feeling inside had only spread from his stomach up to his throat. “Wendy gave you a taste of her forbidden fruit and you lapped it up like the good dog you are. How close am I?”
Lex’s whispered “wow” was the only thing that stood between them, the low light in the hallway giving the pale hair an almost ethereal, backlit quality. And then Lex turned away.
Morgan felt it—the break. The last fragile shard of control he’d been clutching onto shattered, splintering into two perfect pieces. There was no time to shove them into the box they belonged in. No chance to breathe through it. He was off the couch before his brain signaled to his body.
He latched onto the back of Lex’s shirt, yanking him off the second step of the stairs with a force that sent him crashing against the front door. His fingers itched to be around that pretty throat, to squeeze and squeeze until he could see the life drain out of those wide, blue eyes, but Lex caught his wrist before it could meet its mark.
“You think I don’t see the way you look at her?” Morgan hissed, bringing his face closer until the fine splattering of Lex’s six o’clock shadow stood out like dark pinpricks against his skin. “Call her. Tell her you don’t want to see her again. Now .”
“Let me tell you something about yourself,” Lex said, calm and cool. Collected. That infuriating smirk cut into his cheek, grip tightening against Morgan’s wrist. “You’re jealous. You are so jealous you don’t know what to fucking do with it—you can’t even it admit it inside of your own head. How close am I?”
Morgan ground his teeth together. Spitting back the same taunt from the woods, from seconds ago—abysmal. Typical. Like Lex couldn’t come up with something on his own.
“If I wasn’t right,” Lex continued in that same soft, mocking tone, “you’d stop touching me. But you can’t. Every second you get the chance—when you think no one’s watching—your hands are everywhere.”
The words hung there, dangling just out of Morgan’s grasp, the undeniable truth sharper than the pressure radiating down the back of his head.
“Wake up, Morgan. I’m not your only addiction, but fuck if I’m not your favorite .”
Morgan could get no further, couldn’t chase back the last bits of his sanity before Lex’s arms wound around his neck and that chapped mouth crashed into his own, all teeth and shivering nerves, sliding against his lips.
Lex was awkward, graceless, and entirely uncouth, but Morgan didn’t pull away. Lex’s fingers tangled in his hair, trying to deepen the kiss in a way that felt terribly clumsy. Morgan let him.
It had been the thing they had both been sidestepping around—the thing that felt more intimate than any of the other games they had played.
This wasn’t teasing hands or badly formulated ideas when everyone was watching. This was purely personal, purely theirs, and Morgan couldn’t slow the frantic stutter of his heart if he tried .
He was more than willing to participate—on his terms.
Angling his head, it was easier to take control of the situation than let Lex trip over himself trying to do it. He nipped at Lex’s bottom lip, relishing the slight resistance and uncertainty before the sharp exhale followed.
There it was.
It was the sound of surrender—of acceptance—that spurred Morgan on. His tongue traced the curve of Lex’s mouth before pushing past.
The way Lex responded, hesitant but wanting, was too good. Too easy. And Morgan could drown in his taste: honey sweet, with a trace of bitterness beneath—almonds, maybe, or something floral.
Absolutely delightful.
Morgan fisted the fabric of Lex’s shirt to pull him closer, his other hand splaying across the tense muscles of his back, mapping out every curve and dip. He wanted to slip inside the shirt—inside the flesh itself—to that molten center beneath, burning with the same intensity as he felt.
The wet, wanton hiss of Lex moaning into his mouth sent a fresh thrill down Morgan’s spine and into his stomach. That moan tasted better than it sounded in the overpriced restaurant.
Lex shuffled forward, and Morgan didn’t resist when they started to move.
Where they were going didn’t matter. Not when Lex’s hands slipped down to grip his hips. Not when their shoes collided in uneasy bumps, or when Lex pulled back to gasp for air, his excited, eager gasps rolling over Morgan’s ears like a chorus of pleas .
Morgan’s calves hit something hard, and the feeling shattered. He didn’t have time to figure out what it was before his back slammed down onto a hard surface, the impact jarring his very bones and shaking loose rustling papers around him.
Ah. The office. The same room they had been in together the first day. How… appropriate.
Fitting.
The metallic tang of his own blood spread across his tongue. Unpleasant. Wrong. He must have bitten his lip—or maybe his tongue. Copper and old pennies soured his stomach. It wasn’t what he wanted.
But then he opened his eyes.
Lex was hovering over him, lips swollen and red even in the dim light. His hair fell in wild, uneven waves around his face, shadowing the deep blue. Prettier than Morgan had imagined. More feral and ravenous than Morgan had hoped. He brought his hands up, smoothing his palms through the pale mess to pull him back.
Morgan couldn’t quite get that far. Lex’s fingers clamped around his wrist, forcing them up and over his head, pinning them there. The strength—Morgan hadn’t anticipated that. It caught him off guard. Something in his shoulder popped, bright and loud in the silence.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck someone on a desk…” Lex whispered, the manic gleam in his eyes unmistakable as they roamed down Morgan’s body.
Biting back a sigh, Morgan shifted his weight up, but Lex held firm. “Is that what you think is going to happen?” he asked flatly. “Do you even know what to do? I am… more than happy to show you. ”
“I’ll figure it out as I go.” The edge in Lex’s voice barely masked the tremor beneath, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. “I've screwed enough girls. It's just another hole in the end.”
Morgan’s patience was thinning. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to play this particular role for Lex, and it was quickly killing his mood.
“Do you feel better, little brother? Have you had your fun? Your three seconds of power?”
The sharpness must have hit something inside of Lex—dislodged a piece of that annoying bravado. Lex’s expression faltered, his lips pressing into a thin line as he pushed himself up higher.
“Stop calling me that, Morgan. Especially now.”
Lex released his wrists, fingers fumbling at the belt and buttons of Morgan’s pants. That clumsy determination might have been amusing if it didn’t spark new irritation. The filthy ideas invading Morgan’s mind dissolved.
Not tonight.
Not when Lex wouldn’t listen . Not when this whole situation was hurdling into territory that would leave them both bitter. Frustrated. Morgan wasn’t keen on wasting his time.
“Are your feet touching the floor?” Morgan muttered.
“Wha—”
But Morgan didn’t give him the chance to finish the word, let alone the thought.
He hooked his leg around Lex’s calf and yanked. Hard.
Lex toppled like dead weight, hitting the floor with a thud that echoed through the tiny room louder than it should have .
Morgan exhaled, pushing himself up and testing his shoulder—it moved fine. At least he wasn’t on his back anymore.
Small mercies.
Slipping off the desk, he crouched to cradle Lex’s face in both hands, tilting it up. He hadn’t noticed the blood before, but up-close, it appeared almost black, running down from a nasty looking gash in Lex’s forehead.
Those blue eyes stared at him, dazed, blinking furiously—Lex must have hit his head on the way down—and Morgan reminded himself to check for a concussion.
Later.
“You want to put on a show. You want to play pretend—asserting your dominance, yearning for a chance to overpower someone,” Morgan whispered, gently sliding his thumbs against Lex’s sticky cheeks. “If you want that, you just need to be a good boy and ask. Nicely. We can play out that scene if you’re desperate as long as you can take my instruction.” He leaned closer, pressing his mouth against Lex’s ear. “But whatever you just tried? Do it again, and I’ll start taking pieces of you for my newest collection.”
“I…” Lex trailed off for a moment, the side of his head leaning against Morgan’s before the laughter came. “I knew this beige-ass nightmare was gonna kill me someday.”
The grin on Morgan’s face was unbidden and totally indulgent. Lex might be shaken and bloodied, but it was still Lex.
And tonight proved, more than anything else before it, that Lex was indeed his.