Chapter 6 #2
That’s it, babe, don’t hide from me. If you’re jealous, that means you care. If you care, that means I haven’t completely lost you…
The game started out friendly with his crew of friends cheering both teams on. Their banter and warmth made an ache sprout in my chest, a yearning to know what it would have been like had I stayed and become a part of this new family Dawson seemed to have found.
By the second round of the game, I was fast approaching the point of no return.
Dawson hadn’t been lying about Nate and his infuriating abilities as he sank yet another shot flawlessly.
I cursed loudly, downing my ninth cup of beer while Corvin groaned beside me.
They’d been filled a bit more than was traditional, but as my temper simmered more and more with every smile, laugh, or friendly touch Nate and Dawson shared, I welcomed inebriation as sweet relief.
“I swear, y’all suckers are getting hustled. Nate gets lost getting to a point, but somehow he’s sinking all the balls when his blood is probably 80 proof by now,” Bash joked, eliciting laughs from the others.
“Fuck you very much, Dupont.” Nate flipped him off with that same goofy smile of his.
“Why do you think I chose to be on his team instead of against him?” Dawson tossed out, concentrating on his shot.
“Please, like Nate would let his Dawby-Bear be on anyone else’s team but his?” The guy clinging to Bash, maybe Micah, teased. Annoyance lanced through me at yet another reminder of how close Nate and Dawson were. Just how fucking close are they?
“Gross. Say that name again and you’re going in the pool, and Bash won’t be able to save you,” Dawson threatened him, but the guy only cackled and shot him a wink.
“And Dawson’s got another nickname for the collection,” I muttered, not meaning to say it aloud. I felt eyes on me, but kept my focus on the game.
“So Theo, how do you know Dawson?” Nate asked me as I stepped back to let Corvin take his next shot.
“We knew each other as kids when he lived next door,” Dawson answered before I could speak.
The shard of betrayal he’d left in my heart when he’d denied our relationship to Aly earlier wedged even deeper.
He shifted his nervous eyes to mine and anger bubbled up and loosened my lips.
Could also be the lukewarm beer I’m drowning in, but fuck it.
“Yep. We go way back,” I interjected enthusiastically. “You know how it goes. Childhood besties, attached at the hip, real Goonies-level shit. Our families were really close too.”
Dawson’s shoulders sagged and some of the tension left his frame at my answer. Until my mouth Usain Bolt-ed without my brain, fueled by my indignation.
“He also sucked my dick a few times, but what’s a BJ between friends, right?” I added cheekily. That wasn’t even two percent of what we’d done with each other, so I thought only letting that one thing slip was great restraint on my part. Dawson clearly didn’t agree.
All the color drained from his face as silence descended on us. The atmosphere was stifling despite being outside, everyone nervously shuffling around us.
Ice quickly replaced the fire that had sparked in his eyes as he stared me down. “Well…we all experiment from time to time, don’t we?”
“Must have been a hell of an experiment for you to keep coming back for more,” I taunted as I sensed my control slipping further away. I saw the faintest tinge of sadness shadow his features, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came.
“I’m a slower learner, I guess. But thank fuck I’m past that phase and on to better things.” He looped his arm around Aly’s waist and hauled her to his side as though proving his point.
My heart sank to the pits of my stomach while fury rose up hot and sharp in its place.
The heat of it melted through the pain that threatened to consume me and I clung to it desperately.
Grabbing one of the full cups off the table, I tossed it back in one go and dropped it carelessly with a clatter.
“You know, this cheap shit isn’t quite doing it for me. I’m gonna head inside and find a cold drink.” Or a room-temperature Xanny to calm the fuck down. I’m not picky. “You coming?” I raised an eyebrow at Corvin in question.
He looked a bit uncomfortable at the obvious friction between me and Dawson, but he nodded and followed me back into the house.
“You okay? Seems like a lot of history there with Hayes. What’s the deal with you two?” Corvin asked cautiously. I swallowed down the scathing retort that reflexively came up since I couldn’t afford to alienate the one person who might help me find what I needed. What I craved.
“I’m fine and there’s no deal with us. I’m gonna need something stronger than a fucking drink though.”
“What were you thinking?”
Indecision warred within me. I had worked so hard to prove to myself that I could handle this…
this curse that eroded every good intention and bit of light inside me.
But then again, maybe this was just me. I was made of pain and bad decisions like they were the building blocks of my DNA.
Why should I fight it if it got me nowhere?
“I just need to get out of my head...”
The words came out brittle, and I pinned him with a loaded look. Understanding dawned on his face and his smile turned impish.
“I think I can help with that.”
Corvin grabbed my hand and dragged me along through the house. His head was on a swivel, hunting out someone in the waves of dancing, humping people. He finally found who he was looking for and yanked me over to the pool table in the den.
We approached one of the guys playing in tight chinos and a light blue polo, lining up a shot. He popped the cue forward, sending the balls clacking loudly across the green felt. He caught sight of us and greeted Corvin, fistbumping him before settling his gaze on me.
“‘Sup, Aaron. Listen, I got a friend who’s not feeling too great. Might be a headache,” he lied, nodding towards me. “You got anything that might help?”
Mr. Chinos scrutinized me with an unreadable expression. “Your friend looks a little pale. A little dose of Vitamin C might do the trick. Maybe some Vitamin E if that’s more your bag?”
Sweat beaded at my hairline, promises I had made my mom, my Dad, even myself echoing in my mind. I’d broken them before and I hated myself more each time. Deep down, I didn’t want to be this person. I didn’t want to be weak and give in to this disease.
But I also didn’t give a single fuck. I didn’t care about risk or consequence. I didn’t want to feel or think or hurt. I wanted escape.
“Both” I answered, all caution gone as the voices invaded louder than before, overtaking all sense. Aaron’s brows shot up in amusement while Corvin’s drew down slightly in concern.
“Ahh, we’re bumping up, huh? It’ll cost you a bit more though.” I nodded in agreement and he set his pool cue down.
“Right this way.”
They led me over to the bathroom, closing us inside. Once we were locked away, I passed him some cash and Aaron quickly set up a neat, white line on a decorative glass tray. The promises I had once made fractured, but it was too easy to justify the guilt away.
Damn it, it’s not that bad.
It’s not Oxy.
It’s not like last time.
I haven’t fallen that far again…
Rolled up paper was pressed to my nostril and I breathed in the line, the drugs sweeping through my body, burning away all the pain and guilt I carried and taking me higher.
And higher.
And higher, until nothing mattered. Until I never wanted to come back down.
Stardust was swimming through my veins. My nerves were sparking enough to start a fire. My head felt like it was in the clouds…or no, more like the clouds were overtaking my brain. They were pushing out the darkness that constantly hung over me and clogged my thoughts.
This was what I needed. This was my escape, the drugs drawing me up to the surface and allowing me to breathe again. The quick high of the cocaine had worn off, but the X had kicked in, making the world fuzzy around the edges as I danced in the middle of a hot, sweaty press of people.
Strong, rough hands grabbed at my waist and it set off explosions under my skin. Dawson…
My head fell back and my lids drifted close as Dawson’s hands caressed my skin, tugging me back into his body.
Something pinched at my memory, an unfamiliar sensation that I’d never had with him.
His body felt a bit bigger, more muscled than I remembered.
His hands gripped me more forcefully than he used to.
But I guess that made sense. The years had changed him, hardened him like they had me.
Except where Dawson was hardened like a diamond, beautiful and pure and too good for this world, I became hard like coal. A cold, dark, shriveled version of the boy I used to be. A barely functioning husk that narrowly survived the deepest lows that came after the insurmountable highs.
The hard thickness pressing against my ass made me shudder. I missed his closeness. I wanted him inside me, filling me, owning me like no one else ever had. My hand crept back around, cupping Dawson’s length while I vibrated with need. A loud groan rumbled in my ear and my muscles froze in place.
“Fuck Theo, keep going,” Corvin begged in a low whine, nothing like the breathy, velvet whimper that I used to pull from Dawson so effortlessly. My stomach turned both in disgust at myself and crushing disappointment that he wasn’t the man I wanted.
“Wait, I-I can’t…”
I stumbled out of Corvin’s grasp. I shouldered through the dense crowd, the haze of drugs still heavy.
My attention caught on something across the room and my mind steeped in pleasure at seeing Dawson’s face.
His gaze connected with mine and even with his brows furrowed and mouth pulled in a tight line, he was still so damn beautiful.
My hand reached out toward him without conscious thought.
I could almost trick myself into believing that he reached for me too.
Noises faded, lights dimmed, and the world paused.
The pull between us was infinite, stretching beyond time and reason, connecting us through all the devastation, loss, and anger.
All at once, the world rushed back in and I saw Aly saunter up to Dawson, her forehead lined in worry as she spoke to him.
Her hand caressed his arm, breaking our contact as he dropped his attention to her.
I wished I could read their lips, but in the next second I wanted to rip them off when Aly’s lips brushed the corner of Dawson’s mouth.
Red clouded my vision and pain rippled through me despite the drugs in my system. Watching them set off every instinct in my body to claim him, to remind him who he truly belonged to. And it would never be her. As long as I drew breath, Dawson was mine.
I reached for my ring, needing the steady weight to help me feel the smallest semblance of control. Panic flooded me when I couldn’t feel it, but just as quick I remembered where it had gone. Disjointed thoughts hit my brain like electric pulses, sharp and fast.
He took it—beg for it—not her—find it—get it back—it hurts—can’t do it—steal it—need it—
I blinked hard to clear the litany blaring in my head.
I was upstairs in front of a too-familiar door, unsure of how I got up here.
A singular focus had taken root and I couldn’t think of anything else but finding the ring.
I tore through Dawson’s room, checking his drawers, desk, closet, anywhere he might have stashed it.
The door opened behind me and a split second of euphoria hit that he’d come for me, that he was there with me and not her.
Choose me—take me—don’t leave—
“Theo, you alright? Why are you in here?” Corvin’s voice reached me through my rapidly depleting high. Either those drugs Aaron gave me must have been shit or they were no match for the deluge of desperation and hurt that were burying me.
“Looking for something,” I mumbled, darting glances around the room to see if I had missed any hiding spots. Corvin’s warm hand ran down my back before he pulled me around to face him.
“Hey, look at me,” he commanded softly, lifting my chin until I met his gaze. “You don’t seem okay. Is Aaron’s cocktail hitting you weird? Do you feel sick or anything?”
I ripped out of his grasp, feeling too hot, too stifled, too…everything. Every synapse was firing and my brain was broken morse code, lines and dots out of order. Dots of words swimming between lines of coke that hit me too fast.
Dawson doesn’t care. Not enough. He is hers—get him back—get back at him. Show him. Make him hurt—I hurt—too much. Want him here—come back—fuck you! Fuck me—need to fuck—need to feel—him. Him. Always him.
Dawson—
Come back—
Please...
Lips pressed against mine, hungry and urgent.
Hands tugged my hair and sent jolts of electricity straight to my cock.
Skin clashed with skin and streaks of blissful pain followed nails down my back.
A buckle clinked and a rush of cool air hit my legs as warmth engulfed my dick, and I surrendered to it.
I knew. The truth slithered through the lust and drugs and pain, and I knew. This wasn’t Dawson. God, how I fucking wanted it to be. But I knew his touch, his kiss, his scent better than my own name and none of this was right.
It wasn’t right. But I didn’t care.
I couldn’t.
I wish I was in control. But I wasn’t.
I wish I was Dawson’s. But I wasn’t.
And after this?
I never would be.