15. Callum
FIFTEEN
callum
NOW
The world came back into focus slowly. My brain was sluggish at first, wondering where I was and how I got there. Everything came back to me all at once. The will. The envelope. Damien. I looked around the room and saw him curled up on the too-small couch instead of in his bed. Where I was.
How did I get in his bed? And what time was it?
The hotel’s alarm clock glowed in the dimly lit room.
It was just after midnight. I’d been asleep for hours.
Which was a miracle actually. Ever since the accident, I hadn’t slept well.
Thoughts and regrets swirled in my brain all the time.
My emotions were all fucked up too. Angry one minute.
Sad the next. I was giving myself whiplash.
The question of how I got into bed was answered as little bits of memory made their way to the forefront of my mind. Damien helping me to my feet. Well, more like Damien lifting me, manhandling me into bed and telling me to sleep, even as I argued that I should go.
I tried to get out of bed as noiselessly as possible, but he must have been simply dozing because the minute my feet hit the carpet, I sensed a shift in the room. I looked over at Damien, sitting up a little straighter than he was a few minutes ago.
“Sleep well?” he asked, his voice at a level that suited the darkness.
“I can’t believe I slept at all.” I started to get up, but sat down again. I didn’t want to go. I hated going home now. Truth be told, I hadn’t liked coming home at all. Ever. After Sam and I had that falling-out, he made home so uncomfortable for me that I just never wanted to be there.
“Why are you all the way over there?” I asked, feeling every inch of distance between us. The way I ached for this man had haunted me. It had carved me out and left me hollow, and now he was so fucking close. And yet he might as well have been a million miles away.
“It’s called not being a creeper.”
“You could’ve crawled into bed with me. My virtue is long gone, but I don’t bite.”
“Pity,” Damien quipped.
Silence swelled up between us like a rising tide.
“I should go.”
“You should stay.”
His response came automatically, but I didn’t hate the way it made me feel. It had been a long time since someone asked me to stay. And I hadn’t wanted to stay for them or anyone else. Not until now. It was no hardship to listen to his plea, to give in to his gentle demand.
“I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep,” I warned him. I’d slept for hours, practically a whole night’s worth of sleep, and it was only midnight. Which meant the bullshit from the will had been yesterday. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this day.”
“Well, I can help you there.” Damien got to his feet and made a beeline for the hotel’s minibar.
“That shit costs a fortune, though.”
“Don’t worry about the cost, Callum.” He came over and dumped a bunch of mini bottles onto the bed.
I patted the spot next to me, and he only hesitated for a moment before he climbed onto the bed. We sat side by side, our backs pressed against the headboard, our shoulders mere inches apart. A collection of tiny bottles between us.
“Tell me about your life. What’s it like? What’s it been like?” I knew Damien’s family was shit when we were teens, and if I guessed right, they’d long since abandoned him completely. I’d never met people so eager for their child to grow up just so they wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.
“It’s been fine. I have Bowie and Spike and my business. I was able to buy a small condo. I do all right.”
“College sucked,” I told him. “I missed you all the time.”
Oh how I wanted a magic wand or a time machine or anything to take me back to before everything went down. I’d have fought Sam on this despite his threats that this would ruin the family. That I’d break our parents’ hearts. Knowing what I know now, that happened anyway.
Sam won and I stayed away, and he made sure that I’d never risk reaching out to Damien again because that’s what a good brother would do. They’d stay away from their brother’s best friend.
I twisted open a tiny bottle of rum and tipped it back, drinking it down in a couple of swallows. The rum had a bit of spice to it and warmth pooled in my stomach when it hit bottom. I recapped the now empty bottle and set it aside.
I hated the small talk. I wanted to know everything, but I wanted to know the important things the most. Was he actually okay? Was he lonely? Did he hate his life? Did he regret anything? Did he also want to bring Sam back to life so he could kill him?
Damien reached for a bottle of vodka, and I watched him uncap it, then put it to his lips and tip it back. He drank the whole thing then shuddered like it personally offended him and his ancestors.
“Not a vodka fan?”
“Not especially.” He put the cap back on the bottle and set it next to my empty one. “I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”
Damien’s gaze slid over to mine, and the world stopped turning. Time paused. He was so close now. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted to spend the night not just next to him, but with him.
It’s all I ever wanted.
He was all I ever wanted, and he was right there. So close.
Once upon a time, I promised my brother that he meant more to me than Damien did.
That I’d prove it by never seeing him again.
I wasn’t sure I’d meant that promise then, but I’d been blindsided by the hurt and the anger he unleashed on me when he found out about Damien and me.
Sam had made me promise to stay away from Damien.
That Damien was his best friend and I had no business trying to ruin his friendships.
And all that time, all those years, he pretended to still be close to Damien so I’d keep my word.
Fuck Sam.
And fuck waiting. With a bravery that must have been fueled by spite, I reached for Damien.
I sat up a little and turned my body more towards his.
My fingers skimmed his cheek, tickling across the light layer of stubble on his cheeks.
I sank my fingers into his hair and cradled his head, pulling him closer.
Directing him in whatever train wreck this was going to be.
Because this wasn’t going to end well, and I didn’t care.
Sam was gone. Sam was gone, and I wanted to care more about that than I did. I felt like a shitty person, like the world’s biggest asshole because I wasn’t sadder about my brother.
Sam was gone, but I was here, and so was Damien. And I didn’t care what was in those letters. Or how much time had passed or the fact that we were different people than we had been. Or even that this was a terrible fucking idea. I needed Damien like I needed oxygen.
I pulled him closer but met him halfway, and this time it was me who kissed him first. He seemed shocked by it, and it took a second for his body to come online, but once it did, he pulled me into his lap.
The little booze bottles rattled around on the bed, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
Our kiss wasn’t punctuated with pauses where we’d declare that we shouldn’t do this. Not anymore. Sam was gone. Sam wasn’t able to care about anything anymore. Sam was gone… and it felt wrong to feel this free suddenly.
Damien’s hands slid up my legs and around to my ass, and he pulled me even closer.
He teased his fingers along my waist, dipping his fingers into my pants, driving me crazy.
A hunger I hadn’t felt in years rose up in me like a great gaping maw.
My skin felt too tight for my body. Everything was in slow motion except for my heart.
My heart ran a million miles an hour and was going straight back in time to when we did this all the time.
To when it was allowed to feel things for Damien. To before everything broke.
God, I still carried such a torch for this man. His mouth tasted like him. Like it always had, but the stubble on his face was new and not unwelcome. I loved the way it scraped against my skin, and I wanted to feel it everywhere.
Putting my hands to Damien’s shoulders, I pushed him back, pressing his shoulders into the headboard. His eyes flashed with concern, but there was desire there too. So much that I could drown in it.
Damien’s hands slid under my shirt. Impossibly hot skin on mine.
Calloused hands, smooth nails. I cataloged every little thing about him.
Every change, no matter how small. The laugh lines around his eyes indicating that his life had a lot of joy in it.
Despite everything, he’d found reasons to laugh and smile.
I hated that those reasons didn’t include me.
Jealousy was stupid and unproductive, and I tried not to entertain the idea of Damien with anyone else, so I deepened the kiss like I could erase everyone else he’d ever met, or even looked at, with a memory of me. Of us.
Kissing Damien was like falling through clouds. He was soft and slow. Sweet. Too sweet. I needed Damien to tear me open, to tear me apart limb from limb, to flip me over and pound me through the mattress. To fuck me so hard I forgot we’d ever been apart.
“Wait,” Damien said, pulling back, but I chased his mouth.
I didn’t want him to call it off or say this was a mistake or give me literally any reason to stop kissing him.
I waited anyway because he asked me to. Because enough of his choices had been taken from him.
That used to be true, but I didn’t know if it still was.
Like it or not, there was a lot I didn’t know about Damien anymore.
Something must have flickered across my face, some kind of alarm, because Damien leaned in close again and dusted his lips against mine until I dropped back into my body and blinked at him. When he smiled, it did meet his eyes, but that was only because both were sad.
I didn’t want to wait. I’d been waiting for years and years and years. Waiting for Sam to stop being a little bitch. Waiting until I could reach out to Damien again someday. But someday never came. It only came once Sam was gone.
“Why are we waiting?” I asked. Leaning in, I buried my face in the crook of his neck.
His skin was soft, and he smelled like citrus and spice.
“I don’t want to wait,” I confessed, dragging my fingers down his clavicle, tracing the slope of it.
My fingers brushed against the hollow of his throat and he captured them in his other hand, then brought them to his mouth and kissed them.
“I just wanted to say that I don’t have supplies with me because I wasn’t planning on this.”
“Good,” I declared. “Because planning to hook up at a funeral is probably a huge social faux pas.”
He surprised me by howling with laughter, and then his body was wrapped around mine and he turned us both over at the same time. It was dizzying to go from being on top of him to being pinned underneath him.
All the reasons we shouldn’t do this were gone. They died with Sam. There were probably a million new reasons that would rise from the wreckage, but for now, I didn’t care. For now, I was his, and he was mine.
And nothing else mattered.