Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Brandon
Well, that ended up going further than I’d planned. Sure, I wanted to tease the guy, but there’s something about Robbie that makes it hard to stop once I get my hands on him. And seeing how desperately he wanted relief had been all the encouragement I needed.
I jerk off, which takes approximately seven seconds to do since I’m so worked up, and then I take a quick shower, get changed, and head down to make soup and tea. It’s what Mom always does when I’m sick, and it never fails to make me feel better.
When I get back upstairs, Robbie is under his covers, looking so fucking snuggly I kinda want to climb in and wrap myself around him.
But first, sick.
Second … that’s not something two bros tend to do, cumpanions or not.
So I wait for him to sit up, then pass him his soup.
“This smells incredible.”
“Eat up.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
I push him over, then drop onto the bed beside him, on top of the covers of course—because frat bros.
“What are we watching?”
This is the fun part. I grab his laptop and open some porn.
He cracks up laughing. “This isn’t a movie.”
“No, but it is educational. You ever done anal before?”
“Nope, you?”
I shake my head and navigate to a clip with two guys. “I figure this will give us some idea for when you’re all better, and since we have no experience in the field, let’s look up whatever other things there are out there that two dudes can do together.”
He drains his soup, and I switch out the bowl for his tea. “Take notes. I’m going to want to try it all.”
I’d laugh, but I know he’s serious. So that’s what we do.
We spend most of the night watching and note-taking until Robbie curls up beside me and falls asleep.
His breathing is heavy and loud, nose red, face tense even in sleep.
I watch him for a moment before reminding myself not to be a creep, but even then I can’t look away.
Robbie is … well, fuck, he’s an absolute pain in the ass.
Outside of the bedroom, I want to wring his neck sometimes, but …
damn if there isn’t something about him that’s softening me to his wild ways.
That won’t do.
I creep out of his bed, careful not to wake him, and cross to his desk to retrieve a marker.
Then I channel my middle school self and draw a giant dick on his face.
He doesn’t wake, even as I smile down at him, something twisting in my chest.
I remind myself I’ve set my terms.
Robbie might not be into the exclusive thing, but I have boundaries, and now is as good of a time as any to set them. It’ll suck if he turns around and says he’s had his fun, but if he does, I’ll have to respect that.
Then I head for the door, and when I reach it, I glance back at the giant monster snoring under his covers, and I’m hit with that same urge to join him. Just to be near him. Am I going insane? This is Robbie Harrows.
Thorn, splinter, pest. Creator of migraines that last for days.
What have I gotten myself into?
And why don’t I want to stop?
Robbie’s wiped out for the whole weekend, and not in a cute way. I’m honestly worried he’s going to cough up a lung at some point, and unlike the other night, I keep my distance.
And damn he’s being a big baby about being sick.
Needy and whiny, he wants me at his beck and call, but dude, I also have homework and shit to get through. Think I can tell him no though?
Of course not, which is why I’m perched on a chair five feet from his bed, watching a movie on his laptop, while I balance mine on my thighs and try to hide my screen full of sex toys from him.
He might not have given me an answer yet, but I’m going to place an order so I’m ready for when and if he does.
“How can you even see from over there?” he grumbles.
“Easily. I’m not missing things by coughing every two minutes.”
He humphs and tucks a pillow under his arm. I probably shouldn’t find that adorable, right? Right?
My ringtone blares suddenly over the sound of the movie, making us both jump.
“Fuck,” I mutter, grabbing it and checking the display. “My mom. I’ll—” I go to get up and take this outside when Robbie pauses the movie.
“Stay there.” He sinks back onto his pillows, and his eyes fall closed, so he doesn’t see the cringe I send his way. Can’t wait for him to witness this conversation.
I answer before it cuts out. “Hey, Mom.”
“Remembered who I am, did you?”
Ah, the old guilt trip. “I was planning to call you later.”
“Uh-huh. I bet.”
“Seriously.” Sure, I normally call home on a Saturday, but I’ve been babysitting a giant man child, and time got away from me. “How’s the week been?”
“Great,” she says, forgetting to play mad. “We went to the winter markets yesterday, and it was lovely. I got a bit too tipsy on rosé, but your dad got me home safe.”
“You’re my parents. I don’t need or want to know about you having fun.”
“Please. You think I’m oblivious to what you boys get up to at those fraternity parties? No point acting all uptight now, Brandon.”
“Well, this has been a great conversation …”
She tsks. “I’m just calling to make sure you’re coming home for your birthday next month.”
“Ah …” My eyes dart to Robbie. He shouldn’t be the reason I hesitate to answer. A month is a long time, and he hasn’t even agreed to a short-term thing yet. “I’m not sure.”
She fake-gasps. “You neglected to come home for Christmas, and now you’re going to make me miss my only son’s birthday? Twenty-two years ago, you were nestled so sweet and cozy in my belly, waiting to make your way out through my—”
“Stop. You win. Okay.” I can’t be subjected to my birth story again.
“Cutting the crap, why don’t you want to come home?” she asks.
“There’s … no reason.”
“Brandon.”
“Seriously. I wanted to stay at the house since it was my last Christmas here. No big deal.” I’m overly aware of the way Robbie tilts his head to watch me.
“And your birthday?”
“It’s … nothing.”
“That wasn’t even halfway convincing.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to come home for my birthday. I…”
She gasps, but this time, it’s real. “Holy shit, you’ve got a girlfriend.”
“What? No? No girlfriend.”
“Steve, come here!” she shouts, and I make out the sound of Dad approaching as the phone is switched to speaker.
“No, Mom.” I sigh. “There’s no girlfriend.”
“Well, there’s someone. I can tell. Is it new? Is that why you don’t want to tell me?”
“No, it’s—” I know they’re not going to let up. “Fine. One of my brothers was staying for the holidays, and I didn’t think he should be left here solo. That’s it.”
My words are met with silence, on and off the phone. I risk a look over at where Robbie’s lying and catch his eyes. Jesus fuck, imagine if my parents knew about him and what we’ve been doing. How would they take it?
Like she can read my mind, Mom asks, “Is it romantic between you?”
And apparently Robbie can hear the whole conversation because his booming laugh fills the room.
“Who’s that?” Mom asks.
Could this get any worse? “The frat brother I was telling you about. He’s sick, so we’re watching a movie.”
Mom releases a long, drawn-out aww. “My Brandon is such a good friend.”
“Or more than friend,” Dad says.
Someone help me with these two.
“Put us on speaker,” Mom says.
“No, I’m not going to—”
“Put us on speaker, Brando,” Robbie echoes.
“No, I’m—”
“Please, honey. We just want to make sure he’s okay.”
“She wants to make sure I’m okay.” Robbie’s grinning like an idiot. “Do it do it do it.”
“Do it,” Mom and Dad start chanting too.
I sit there gaping, like how the hell did I end up in a three-way conversation with maybe the most immature people I know?
Whatever. “You asked for this,” I remind all of them before I switch the phone over.
“Mrs. Blakely,” Robbie says. “Heard you had a fun time yesterday?”
“Thank you. See, Brandon? Your friend knows adults have a life as well.”
“The winter market?” I say skeptically. “Hold me back.”
Robbie throws his pillow at me that I throw back before I remember there are probably germs all over that thing. We’re both laughing, and I almost miss Mom say, “If I’d known you were there by yourself for Christmas, I would have invited you here. You’re always welcome.”
And thank fuck she didn’t know, because no thank you.
“What about for his birthday?”
My head snaps up at Robbie’s question, and I madly try to indicate to him to stop talking. Apparently, my throat slashes aren’t very intimidating because he just blows me a kiss.
“We’d love to have you,” Dad says.
“I don’t even know if I’ll be back,” I say. “Let alone Robbie.”
“Oh, Brandon, of course you will be. After three days of labor—”
“Stop.”
“And my water breaking in the middle of a restaurant—”
“Please no.”
“And all that pain.”
“Fine,” I relent. “I’ll be there.”
“With your friend,” Dad says.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Robbie tells them.
This is a nightmare. “Can I please clarify that everyone here knows how horrible this whole experience will be for me?”
“So dramatic,” Mom says like she isn’t exactly where I got it from.
“It’s supposed to be my birthday. Why do you all hate me so much?”
“What’s the problem?” Robbie asks. “Are you embarrassed of me?”
“Well, no—”
“Then it must be us.”
“Mom.” I force myself to take a breath. “For the record, I hate you all. And the three of you meeting can only be a horrible experience that all four of us will regret.”
“Your concerns have been noted.” Dad’s clearly trying not to tease me. “Talk later, son. Looking forward to meeting you, Robbie.”
“You too, Mr. Blakely.”
“And, Brandon?” Mom says. “We want you to know, we love you very much. No matter what. And I’m sure we’ll love your friend too.”
“Please don’t say friend like that.”
“We’re so proud of you, Brandon.”
I huff. “You’re still on speaker.”
“I hope you make our son happy, Robbie. And remember, man or woman, it’s equally as important to wrap—”
“Argh.” I quickly hang up, while Robbie almost breaks a rib laughing so hard he ends up in a coughing fit.
“There is no way you’re coming with me,” I tell him.
Robbie tucks his hands behind his head. “I guess we’ll wait and see.”