Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Brandon
Robbie cries out from the other room, and I hurry in to find him on the ground, Trey sitting on his back.
“What happened?”
“Think I pulled something.”
Oh no. Robbie’s not a small guy, and while I could have lifted him in my peak, I’m not exactly cut out for hauling his weight around anymore. I’ll probably pull something.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“I was playing rocket ship with Trey, and then something in my ass popped.”
Ooof. If there weren’t small ears around, that would have been the perfect opening. But he’s genuinely in pain, so I suppose I should be sympathetic. Starting with getting the little terror off his back.
“Want a cookie, Trey?”
He perks up, chubby cheeks already smeared with whatever he was just eating. “Ciki. Ciki.”
“Okay, come on.” I get him settled in the kitchen with one of the cookies Robbie and the kids baked, then go back to where my husband is still lying on the ground.
“I think I’m getting old,” he groans.
“Little bit.” I crouch next to him and brush his short hair back from his forehead. “Need help up?”
“Think so.”
“I’ll call your brother.”
I go to stand, and Robbie grabs my leg. “You can do it. I’ll be able to take my weight, just need help.”
Just need help turns into me practically throwing my back out to haul him up off the floor. Apparently, I still have more muscle than I gave myself credit for, though, because we get him out of the room, down the hall, and into the living room, where he drops back onto the couch.
“No more rocket ships.”
“I told you that weeks ago. He’s getting too big.”
“He’s turning into a true Harrows,” Robbie says, pride in his voice.
The kids might be adopted, but there’s the whole nature versus nurture thing going on.
Lahna’s hair is light, and she takes after me in a lot of ways, sometimes throwing sassy expressions back at me that feel like I’m being flashed a mirror.
Trey is all Robbie. Big emotions, big personality, and never stops eating, so he’s turning into a tank.
It’s cool to see the way they’re becoming their own little people.
“Let me put the kids to bed, and then I’ll get the Icy Hot,” I tell him.
He grunts out his thanks and turns the game on.
My suspicions immediately ping as he gets engrossed in the TV, but I don’t say anything.
If I have to spend ten minutes putting the kids to bed so I can spend the rest of my night watching ball and rubbing Icy Hot into my husband’s ass, it’s a fair trade-off to me.
Once Lahna and Trey are tucked in, I duck into the kitchen, grab two beers and the Icy Hot, then join Robbie back in the living room. He’s stretched out but shifts to make room for me.
I hand over his beer and ask, “Where does it hurt?”
“Right here,” Robbie moans, then tugs down his pants and treats me to an eyeful of ass.
Of course it is. I squeeze out some Icy Hot and rub it into the muscle. “Here?”
“Mmm …” His eyes drift closed. “That’s just the spot.”
I have no idea if he’s being serious or not. I spend a good few minutes massaging it in, making sure to get the whole butt cheek. Robbie is practically drooling by the end of it.
Then his phone goes off.
He checks the screen and laughs. “It’s Dooms.”
“What did he say?”
“Apparently, our ten-year reunion is coming up, and he wants to TP Kappa house for old times’ sake.”
“Sounds good to me.” And out of all the things he could have suggested, it’s the easiest and has the least risk. I can still remember when they covered all the windows with black contact paper, and Charles chewed Zeke out for an hour.
A sigh comes from me, completely unintentionally.
“What was that?” Robbie asks.
I go back to rubbing his butt, mind still stuck in the past. “It really was fun, wasn’t it?”
“The Sigma days?” His voice softens. “Yeah.”
“Even having to constantly pull you and Chad in … I didn’t hate it.” Robbie’s face lights up, but I continue before he can get any ideas. “But no, I do not want to have to go back to that.”
“You’re so sexy when you’re worked up though.”
“Let’s just stick to you working me up in fun ways instead.”
But while I don’t necessarily want to go back to all that, I’ll forever be grateful that I experienced it.
That I got to walk away from my fraternity days with Robbie and my brothers, who are with us for life.
We got to make lasting memories together, and no matter how old we get, no matter where we’re all at in life, we’re family. We’re there for each other.
“Ten years, huh?” I muse.
“Yeah.”
“Where the fuck did they go?”
“Jobs, our house, the kids, getting married … trips back and forth to Arizona and New York and California. They’ve been a good ten years.”
They have been. And ten years from now, I’ll probably look back on this time like I am with college right now.
Glad it happened.
But with Robbie in my life, that time will never end.
We’ll always be brofriends, frat brothers, husbands, and partners. Everything we’ve been through, everything we will go through … he makes life better.
And I’m excited for what comes next.