Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
ONYX
“You coming back?” Benson asks, voice thick with sleep.
I pause at the door and look in his direction. This fucker sleeps in some strange-ass positions. He has one leg up on the wall this morning. As if he’s trying to reach the ceiling with his toes. Which means he’s sideways on his bed, and his head is half hanging off.
Weirdo.
“For practice,” he adds.
“In a few hours,” I answer.
“Kay.” He closes his eyes. “I’ll bring brunch.”
I stare at him for a minute. He’s in a good mood this morning. Must have had a decent night’s sleep.
Without answering, I leave Benson’s room.
Last night was the first time in a while that I spent the night.
Usually, I hang out with Cash until it’s clear that he needs to go to sleep, and then I go home.
Ben doesn’t even know I’ve been here. Their parents know, but I’m guessing they assume I crash in Ben’s room as I’ve always done.
To my knowledge, they don’t know that I’ve been hanging out with Cash.
I snort at myself as I step into the living room. Hanging out. Right. That’s exactly what we’re doing.
The house is quiet. I’m guessing their parents are already gone for the day. Glancing back at Ben’s room, I decide that maybe I won’t leave yet.
Unless Cash’s door is locked. I’m not sure he leaves it unlocked during the night. He should. It’s a safety hazard. Then again, leaving it unlocked is a hazard when Benson’s home, and feeling confrontational.
When the knob turns in my grip, a smile climbs. Perfect. I push the door open just enough to slip inside and then shut it behind me. This time, I lock it. At the very least, it’ll give me time to hide before Cash opens the door.
He’s in his bed, buried under a tall pile of blankets.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in his bed.
He’s always lying on his floor with his feet up against the side of the bed, like Benson was just lying.
Or on his stomach as he scrolls on his tablet.
Or sitting against his bed, coloring. Always with his headphones on or earbuds in.
Cash has always loved music. To a musician, it’s an instant connection.
I stand over Cash for a minute and then crouch at the side of his bed. He’s so beautiful. Such flawless features. A perfect button nose. Long lashes lying across his cheekbones. Soft lips that are begging to be kissed.
His eyes open as if he’d only just shut them. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me. I’m not sure why that makes me feel all warm and grossly squishy inside. “Why are you being a creep?” he asks.
“Sorry. I was heading home, and then I didn’t.”
He huffs, eyes closing.
“Can I get into bed with you?”
“Only if you take off your clothes. Street clothes aren’t allowed to touch my sheets.”
Chuckling, I strip out of my clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor.
It’s not the first time I’ve been naked with this man.
It won’t be the last. I’m guessing he probably has his underwear on.
He lives with his parents and brother, after all.
I don’t bother, though. Technically speaking, underwear falls under ‘clothes,’ and he said I needed to take them off.
I crawl over him and dig myself a tunnel into his bedding. Something that Cash must find amusing because he laughs quietly, though he doesn’t move at all. Once I finally make my way under them, I pull Cash into my chest and wrap around him.
This feels incredibly intimate. Far more than I’ve ever truly felt with him. There’s something… domestic about it.
Cash sighs. A minute passes, and then he rolls in my arms so he’s facing me and presses his face into my chest. His arms remain between us, folded against his stomach. I’m not sure it’s to keep space between us so much as that’s just how he landed.
That’s fine. I pull him against me tightly. He has to get up in a couple hours for work anyway.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No? You were just going to stare at me asleep like a stalker?”
I laugh. “Uh. Maybe. I didn’t have a plan when I let myself in.”
Cash hums. After a few minutes, he says, “I’m not the only guy you’ve messed around with. Am I?”
My eyebrows pinch for a minute. What answer is he expecting? Why is he asking? “No,” I answer.
“You’ve sucked other guys’ dicks before.”
Is that an accusation? “Yes,” I hedge.
“Have you had sex with a guy?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Just answer my question.”
“I have.”
“More than once?”
“Yes. More than once and with more than one guy.”
“He doesn’t know. Does he?”
At first, I’m a little dense and ask, “Who?” but as soon as the word leaves my mouth, I know who he’s talking about. Benson.
For a few minutes, I think about it. “I think he’d have to be stupid not to know,” I say after a minute. Then I think about him being a nasty asshole to anyone near the stage watching us and loudly proclaiming that we’re all straight, so stop being pigs.
No, I still maintain that he’d have to be stupid to think that I’m straight. Yet, he always asks about Wendy, digging his claws into the two or three times I hooked up with her since we were teenagers. I don’t generally set him straight, though. Maybe I should. Is it dishonest that I’m not?
In reality, I’m saving myself a confrontation. Which is what I end up telling Cash. “Honestly, I haven’t contradicted him on my sexuality because I’m already exhausted from dealing with his hostility, and I’d hate to have to punch my best friend in the teeth.”
Cash snorts. “He needs to be punched in the teeth,” he says quietly.
I nod. “I know he does.”
“No offense, but I don’t know why you’re still friends with him.”
“I don’t either,” I find myself saying. “I guess a part of me is holding out hope that Benson will disclose what has made him so hostile, and maybe we can… fix it? Somewhere inside him is the guy he was a decade ago.”
“I think this toxic Benson ate the previous version of himself.”
He’s probably right. “I just… I’m not ready to give up yet.”
“If he finds out that you’re not straight and turns on you? Is that what you’re waiting for?”
“Maybe,” I admit.
Cash sighs. I feel his frustration.
“You want me to bail on him,” I guess.
This time, his sigh is different. There’s a different tone to it.
He doesn’t answer right away, but eventually, he says, “I don’t know.
He doesn’t deserve your loyalty or your friendship.
He treats you like a dog on a leash. You understand what people think about you because you’ve stuck by his side for so long, don’t you? ”
“That I have really bad taste in friends?”
He laughs. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”
“I know,” I answer when he doesn’t continue.
“I don’t have a real answer for you. Maybe it’s just loyalty.
Maybe I’m hoping that someday he’ll get his head out of his ass and stop being such a tool.
Maybe… maybe he’ll confide in me why he’s suddenly so homophobic.
Do you ever think that maybe he was… assaulted? ”
Cash’s body jerks and then tenses. “Yes,” he says. “I have thought that, actually. But that doesn’t explain why he hates me.”
I frown. “True.”
“For the record, I don’t think he was,” Cash says.
“I’m not so na?ve as to think there aren’t bad people on Kala.
I’m hesitant to think any of the residents are bad people.
I think it’s hard to hide that kind of thing in a place where everyone knows everyone’s business.
But thousands of guests are on the islands on any given day.
So… maybe, but again, that doesn’t explain why he hates me. I didn’t assault him.”
“I don’t think he was either,” I agree. “It’s one of the explanations I entertained when we were teenagers, and I admittedly spent a lot of our high school years looking for any indication at all that it might be the case.
In the end, while I’m not writing it off entirely, I’m not convinced that’s the trigger. ”
We’re quiet for a while. Cash snuggles into my chest a little closer, and I hug him.
“This might be the first time I’ve ever seen you use your bed. I thought it was just for decoration.”
He snorts. “No. I hate crumbs or sand or anything in my sheets. There’s literally nothing at all that irritates me more. So I find myself on my floor often.”
“Where there’s crumbs and sand,” I point out.
Cash laughs. “And that’s why no street clothes are allowed in my bed.
” His hand flattens against my stomach and then drops to feather his fingertips along my cockhead.
“Though I didn’t mean you had to actually be naked.
As long as you didn’t roll around on the beach in your underwear, you could have kept them on. ”
“I could have,” I agree. “But I love the feel of your skin against mine.”
He hums. His touch doesn’t change. It remains light as he traces his fingers over my cock.
I’m not quite hard. Getting there because Cash is mostly naked, pressed against me, and touching my dick.
But I know the intent behind his touch, and it’s not sexy.
I’m familiar with this silent exploration because Cash’s hand almost always ends up on my dick now. Not in a sexual way, but investigative.
After a few minutes, I roll onto my back. I keep him pressed up against my side, and Cash adjusts so his head lies on my chest. Now he has full access to my dick.
We spend the rest of the morning doing just this.
Our conversation leaves Ben and doesn’t go back there, which isn’t unusual.
We rarely talk about Ben. But we talk about everything else.
He talks a lot about his job. I love when he does because he gets animated.
Cash absolutely loves being on the boats, and it clearly suits him.
When his alarm goes off, I sneak out of the house and head home while he gets ready for work.
My mom isn’t home. Not that I expected her to be.
I have enough time for a couple hours of practice before I need to come back for my students this afternoon.
Since it’s a weekday, they’re in school until three or so, depending on their activities.
It works out well enough because I can schedule the younger kids in the morning and the older kids after school. When I choose.
I take a quick shower with a quick orgasm since Cash spent the morning touching me, and I’m fucking hard. As I stroke my dick, I wonder if he’s doing the same in the shower. The thought that he is makes me orgasm quickly. Cash is an expert edger, and he doesn’t even mean to be.
Unless he’s diabolical and does it on purpose, but under the guise of innocence. Hmm. Does he have that level of wickedness in him?
The thought makes me smile as I stuff a load of my laundry into the washing machine and then dig through my basket of clean clothes. I hate having my clothes in a basket. Not because I care about wrinkles, but because I can never find matching socks!
Once dressed, I fill a water bottle from the kitchen cabinet, having misplaced the one I was using yesterday.
Probably in Benson’s room. Once, I found eight of my water bottles in Benson’s room.
At least I rarely lose them, even if I forget to bring them home.
Chances are that all my missing water bottles are at the Ellis’ house.
I think about this on my way back to their house. It really speaks to how long I’ve been friends with Ben. I’ve spent just as much, if not more, time there than at my own house. We were always there as kids because he loved to include Cash.
The memory of those days makes the current atmosphere between them hard to believe. Difficult to accept.
Benson said he’s bringing brunch, so I stop at the coffee shop to grab a couple drinks.
I’d bring one for Cash, but knowing that’ll set Benson off, I decide not to.
He was in a good mood this morning. I know we only exchanged short sentences, but it’s in his tone.
In his offer to bring food. I’ve known Ben my entire life, so I recognize when he’s in a good mood.
His moods change quickly, so I’d like to keep this one for as long as I can.
While I’m waiting for my order, I send Cash a text with a coffee emoji.
Me
For you. Sorry I can’t bring you one. I’m afraid it would initiate the apocalypse.
Cash’s little avatar drops below my message right away, indicating that he’s seen my message. A second later, dots bounce as he types.
Little brother
*dog on a leash emoji*
I snort and roll my eyes.
Me
There’s a difference between avoiding confrontation and being someone’s pet.
Either he has the chat open, but he’s not looking at his phone, or he doesn’t have a response. I’m betting on the former. Cash always has a response.
I look at the name of his contact for a minute.
I’ve had him programmed on my phone as ‘Little brother’ since we were kids.
Since they first got phones, back when Benson and Cash were still close.
Cash was always my little brother, and yet, nothing I ever felt toward him resembles how I imagine it would if I had a sibling.
It’s always been different. Always… captivated.
“Onyx.”
I look up at my name. Tory smiles as he pushes the paper holder with the two drinks in it toward me. “Thanks.”
“Have a good day, sunshine,” he says with a wink when I take it from him. He turns away, and I’m already forgotten.
The rest of the walk back toward Benson’s house is quiet. People are leaving their houses, and it’s a constant barrage of waving and greetings. I wonder if there are other places like this in the world.
I’m walking up the driveway as Cash steps out of the house. I smile, but then Benson walks out of the open garage, and I know this isn’t going to be peaceful.
Cash doesn’t look at his brother. He meets my eyes, smile having already fallen away, and then his attention moves beyond me.
“Why are you always here?” Benson hisses.
“I’m paying rent,” Cash answers and levels Benson with a look. “Are you?”
Benson immediately bristles. “Fuck off.”
“So I’m making money to begin supporting myself while you’re still pretending you have a future as a rock star. Got it. Have a good day nursing your delusions.”
The number of times I’ve seen Benson stomp toward Cash threateningly is far too many to count. Which is probably why I don’t react right away. Neither does Cash. Benson has never laid a hand on Cash.
Apparently, Cash’s last insult was the last straw, and Benson shoves Cash.
I’m not sure which of us is more startled—Cash as he stumbles sideways, eyes wide and mouth agape, or me, frozen to my spot for a solid thirty seconds.
I know which of us recovers first. I drop the drinks and practically throw Benson in the opposite direction. He doesn’t just stumble. He lands on his ass. Now he’s the one looking startled. His eyes, wide and shocked, meet mine.
“Don’t you fucking lay your hands on him,” I growl. “Or anyone. I will kick your fucking ass, Ben. Keep your hands to yourself.”
Benson’s good mood had been fleeting. It’s not coming back today.