6. Jaxon
Chapter Six
JAXON
Every boy’s dream, I thought as I watched Elio run away from me, his feet almost tripping over one another.
I followed him a few steps as he hurried into the bar, then stopped and leaned against the front wall.
My head rested on the brick exterior, and I licked my lips longingly, hoping there was still some of him left on them.
Why’d you have to go and do this, El? I wondered quietly.
I had spent two years fucking everything that showed a sliver of disdain for me.
I had spent those years searching for rock bottom with all I had until I found it.
I’d found it with my entire body and my entire soul when I smacked its cold, hard surface.
I was getting better.
Wasn’t I?
I had a fresh start, a new chance, and a refreshed focus on the things that mattered the most to me. And he had to storm in and kiss me with his beer breath and clumsy, drunken lips.
Where the hell was he, anyway? Running away to vomit after the hottest kiss of my life wasn’t exactly my idea of a romantic night out, but the fucker was in there for ten minutes. Hiding? Or passed out.
I snuck back into the bar, giving my friends a passing glance. They were having fun without me, talking loudly and getting into each other’s sentences. Fred noticed me and lifted an eyebrow, but I shook my head to tell him it wasn’t important and walked across to the restrooms.
All the stalls were open except for the nearest one. As I neared it, someone walked in, and I hesitated. The guy marched to the urinals, unzipped his pants, and exhaled with relief.
I knocked on the door lightly. “El?”
“Huh?” the voice was groggy and distant.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
No reply came. After a moment, there was a flush from the urinals, and the guy with windblown hair and pants hanging low on his ass walked over to wash his hands. He checked me out twice, once in person and once in the mirror, giving my dick a stir and reminding me of my old glory.
Yeah. That was the kind of thing I was trying to move away from.
“El?” I called again.
The bolt moved, and the door opened a fraction.
The other guy gave a little huff, shook his hands dry, and walked out, probably thinking I was about to slip inside the stall.
Only then did Elio open the door completely and look around, almost cross-eyed with booze.
“I’m fine.” He leaned against the door, but it kept moving until it slammed into the wall separating the stalls.
“You’re not,” I said, grabbing him under his arm.
He pulled his arm free and wrinkled his nose. “Not here, Jax.”
“Christ, you’re an asshole,” I muttered as I grabbed his arm again and dragged him out. Not here implied there was a place where the rules didn’t apply. And I tried as hard as I could to silence my thundering heart.
Elio sauntered after me as I dragged him out of the bar and into the breezy September air.
He was a mess, but he was a mess on fairly steady feet.
With some little support, he managed to walk all the way from the student center to the dormitories.
The complex of buildings was a sprawl. There were lawns and bushes, trees, benches, and tables, all scattered between the buildings.
Elio was capable of locating his dormitory, and I helped him up the stairs to his room.
When I turned the knob, nothing happened. “Locked,” I said.
Elio, leaning against the wall, tapped through his pockets. “Fuck,” he grunted, looking around like dazed. “It’s fine,” he said, trying for a lighter tone. “I’ll wait for…Pat…Rick.”
I stared at him, measuring just how drunk he was. He tilted, sliding a little while holding himself to the wall.
If the ground was spinning so hard under his feet, he was in no state to lie here and wait for Pat or Rick to unlock the door and let him in. “You’re coming with me,” I said, exhaling a pent-up breath of air.
“Nah,” Elio said distantly. But he didn’t resist when I grabbed him under his arm and dragged him out.
My place was a block away, on the opposite end of the dormitories, and I most certainly had my key in my pocket. The only thing I didn’t have was a spare bed for the lump I was dragging to my place, and I definitely didn’t have the stomach to share the one I had.
When we entered the room, I flicked the lights on and led Elio to my bed.
He dropped down as I let go of him. His head hit the pillow, long, curly locks of hair spilling over it, a peaceful expression taking over his face.
He had such an infuriatingly pretty face.
Nobody was allowed to be that pretty and call themselves straight.
I’d found hot straight guys and handsome straight guys.
But angels-carved-his-face-and-God-wept-beautiful?
Not in all the years of searching. But I knew the truth about Elio Castelli.
I didn’t have to pretend he was straight any more than I had to pretend I didn’t have a crush on him.
Not in here, where all our secrets were out and our souls bared.
I sat on my desk chair, kicked my shoes off, and put my feet on the edge of the bed. My hands folded on my stomach, and I stared at Elio. His breathing was deep and steady, his mind probably sailing on the tide of beer.
I had felt it against my leg. The moment he pressed me hard against the wall, his body leaning against mine, I felt how hard he was. Hard as a desperate virgin about to get lucky. That dick hadn’t leaped so hard any time in the recent past, I would bet.
“You fucking hypocrite,” I murmured, my lips curling into a scowl before I could stop it. The thought of him did that to me, and it was hard not to think of El when he was sleeping in your bed.
“East,” he whispered, a frown wrinkling his brow.
East and west, I thought, remembering the night I’d thrown us a goodbye party. I was a heart-bruised teenager with grand beliefs of romance and fate. I’d thought if I only showed him how much I cared about him, the universe would reward me.
But the universe was a cold, uncaring place. It didn’t reward bravery or entertain stupid ideas by silly, lovesick boys.
“I can’t break free of you,” I said.
Elio didn’t stir. He was the picture next to the dictionary entry for peaceful.
The few words about East he had muttered, followed by Easton, were long gone from his mind.
He was resting again, undisturbed, and I hated it.
After he had gotten my blood to boil in my veins, after he had gotten testosterone soaking itself into every inch of my body, he slept like a baby.
“Of all the people I could have fallen for, El, it just had to be a fucked-up closet case, huh?” I cocked my head, watching for any hint that he registered the words somewhere in the depths of drunken sleep. There were none.
None until my foot jerked, and I stabbed his rib cage with my toe.
Elio grunted, opening his bleary eyes and frowning. “Ts. That light,” he grumbled.
I sighed and walked over to kill the light. Elio was gone by the time I returned to the chair, my heart sinking and hurting.
“We could have made it work, you bastard,” I said, not even trying to keep my voice low anymore.
There were things I wanted to say to him that I couldn’t.
When we ran into one another sober and awake, all he drew out of me was rage.
“Can you imagine? Best friends falling in love. It’s the easiest thing in the world.
You liked me already, El. And I really liked you.
And I knew you wanted it. Sure, breaking my nose was a little confusing, but I knew you.
I knew I wasn’t crazy. Nobody can imagine so much, El.
Every time you looked at me without blinking, like really looked at me until my heart tripped and I blushed under the intensity of those brown eyes, I knew.
” The urge to poke him again zinged through me, but I resisted.
Somehow, I had convinced myself that I had been mistaken about Elio.
That I had built up the fantasy until the real Elio was erased.
And just as I tricked myself into believing this, I set out to let every bi-curious frat bro give it a go with me.
Filth like that didn’t wash away so easily.
As soon as I saw him take in the absurd image of me in a towel stepping out of the shower, I knew I had been right all those years ago. I knew I had been right, and the fury won over all else.
“And then you kissed me,” I said, looking down, my voice small and husky. “You just wiped out the last two years of my life when you did what you were supposed to do that night.”
My eyes stung. Grainy, itchy, sleepy as fuck. I hoped to God I wasn’t about to cry. It was just tiredness that made my vision blurry. And a big yawn confirmed it.
I got up, gritting my teeth and hoping my heart wouldn’t explode. Elio occupied the better part of my bed, but the edge was still empty save for his arm.
It’s my bed, I reminded myself. Why should I sleep in the chair just because he can’t hold his beer? And who got wasted on beer, anyway?
Those thoughts were enough to get me moving. I debated for half a second before deciding there was nothing weird about stripping down to my underwear. Sleeping in jeans and a sweater would have been way weirder.
I lifted Elio’s arm and pushed it away, triggering his body to turn its back on me. I definitely wasn’t disappointed about that. And then, I slipped under a small part of the blanket Elio didn’t trap under his body.
Squeezing my eyes shut, all I could hear was my thundering heart. It banged against the inside of my chest, strong enough to crack a rib. I clutched the corner of the sheet and tried to sleep.