Chapter 4
Alfie stood from the table when that person led Rhys away. He shouldn’t have. He should have stayed right where he was. It did not matter what Rhys did. He could make his own decisions. They had nothing to do with Alfie.
That did not explain the sick feeling in Alfie’s stomach as he’d watched Rhys leave with them.
He should have ignored it. Even without that, he should have turned around when the two of them disappeared into that room. It would be fine. Rhys could take care of himself.
Yet, Alfie found himself standing there in that hallway as the door closed behind Rhys and that stranger. His feet now felt rooted to the floor.
He should go back out there. Order something else to drink. Something stronger than the soda that he’d been sticking to all night.
The groan that came from behind the door Alfie would know anywhere, and he could not make his feet move. He pressed a hand to the front of his jeans, as if that would help control the situation.
He wanted to beat his head against the wall behind him. He’d gone through most of his life not feeling any of this. Only a handful of times had a person burrowed in deep enough to make him feel all these things.
Why did one of them have to be Rhys, who had no respect for himself and would give himself to anyone? Even someone he hadn’t gotten the name of.
You have no say in it. He can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. You just hate that it can’t be you.
Telling himself that didn’t help the bile that swirled through his stomach. Or get out the voice in his head, one he hadn’t actually heard since he was a boy. That missionary leader saying feelings like his would lead down a dark path.
He turned away, ignoring the murmur of voices from the other side of the door. He’d go to the restroom then back to the table. And force himself to still meet Rhys’s gaze.
“I said not to say shit like that.”
That was Rhys’s voice. Loud. And angry. Alfie rarely heard that tone.
“I don’t care if you think it’s sexy. I don’t. I’m out of here.”
The door opened, and Alfie had no time to move away. Rhys froze, and Alfie could tell the smirk on his face was forced. “Enjoy the show?”
“Are you okay?” Alfie stepped closer. Rhys was fully clothed, but there was a mark on his cheek. “Did they strike you?”
“It’s fine. I just want to get out of here. Are you ready to go, or should I call my own rideshare?”
The other person stepped out of the room and sent a scathing look at them. “Should’ve figured. Just using me. Well, I can get better. Not worth it.”
Alfie felt a shudder go through Rhys, and he kept his arm around his shoulders. That person didn’t matter. “I already settled the tab,” Alfie said. When Rhys started getting drinks from other people, he knew he wouldn’t have to pay for more of his own. “I’ll get us a car.”
“I don’t…”
“We’ll go wait outside,” Alfie said, knowing what he would say. Rhys didn’t get like this often, where he’d let Alfie hold onto him, but when he did, he didn’t want anyone else to see him. “I’ll let them know we left when we’re in the car.”
“Thanks,” Rhys said. “I can always count on you. Even when you don’t like me.”
Rhys leaned into him, so Alfie let himself press his lips to the top of Rhys’s head. Didn’t he know there was never a moment he didn’t like him? He might not understand him, and he did not respect some of the decisions Rhys made. Which didn’t make him like Rhys any less.
“They called me a slut,” Rhys said while they were waiting outside. “Multiple times, after I told them to stop. Some people get off on that, and it can be empowering to them, I guess. I got enough verbal humiliation as a kid, I don’t need it with sex.”
Alfie held his breath. Rhys didn’t talk to him about his childhood.
He’d grown up in Ohio, in a few foster homes, some of them very religious, and that was basically all Alfie knew.
Rhys opened up more to Brock, whose biological family was similar to some of those homes.
Even to Caleb, though they’d only known each other a few months.
Rhys rarely said these things to Alfie, and now he was a little afraid to open his mouth and shatter this moment. He stood there and slipped his fingers through Rhys’s hair, cupping the back of his head until their car arrived.
He helped Rhys into the backseat and slid in next to him. Rhys leaned against him, one hand on his thigh. Alfie bit down on his lip to keep his groan inside. Rhys didn’t need to know he was that turned on from something so simple. They had the ride to the hotel to get through.
Once they were back there, Alfie was willing to keep his arm around him, but Rhys stepped away almost before the car drove away.
There were more people here. Dios forbid any of them think Rhys had any sort of weakness.
That he would consider Alfie that was a slice of pain right through his chest. When the hotel room door closed behind them, Rhys sank down onto his bed.
Alfie took a step toward him. “What do you need from me?”
He looked shattered when he met Alfie’s gaze. “Nothing,” he said after a long moment. “I don’t need a single thing.”
That wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t force anything on him.
He shut off the light and climbed into his own bed.
Until he could hear Rhys’s short gasps and could almost feel him trembling from the other side of the room.
Alfie padded across the floor and slipped in next to Rhys, wrapping him in his arms, kissing along his shoulders.
“You don’t have to,” Rhys started, but Alfie rolled him so Rhys was under him and brought his lips to Rhys’s.
“I know,” he said, still in his first language. Then, in English. “I want to.”
He pulled off Rhys’s shirt, running a hand over his chest as he settled down next to him. His hand slipped lower and he pressed a kiss to Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys let out that groan again. This time Alfie used Rhys’s thigh to try to suppress his erection.
“Yeah,” Rhys said. “That feels good.”
Alfie was lost. He knew it, no matter how much he fought it. “I love you,” he whispered in Spanish. “I want you so much. Please do not let me ruin this.”
“Hot,” Rhys murmured. “It’s so hot when you talk like that.”
Alfie buried his face against Rhys’s neck, his hand slipping into his pants to wrap around Rhys’s cock. Rhys’s hips arched up into the touch, and Alfie let himself take at least a little of what he wanted.
Even if he knew it was the biggest mistake he could make.
Alfie woke to Rhys’s leg wrapped over his thigh as he pressed back against Alfie. Damn him and those extremely flexible hips. Alfie couldn’t help but groan. Rhys felt good nestled right up to him, but Alfie knew this could only be the start of something terrible.
“No puedo.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was true. He could not do this. He just couldn’t. If they kept going, everything would be ruined. He could not lose Rhys from his life.
Not like he had his other friends whom he’d ended up catching feelings for. His sister, Rosalita, told him he was probably demisexual. As if the label mattered if it destroyed his friendships. Rhys meant too much to him to let that happen again.
If it wasn’t already too late for that.
Rhys rolled so he faced Alfie. He would say something. Alfie just knew it. Alfie was not going to have any self-control. He never seemed to. Rhys didn’t look up at him as he slid a hand down Alfie’s stomach.
Alfie sucked in a breath. Rhys’s hands always felt good on him. That didn’t change the way Alfie felt when it was over, and he had to force himself to walk away from Rhys. He whispered, “Stop.”
Rhys froze. “I’m sorry.”
Rhys rolled to the other side of the double bed, scrambling off the edge of the bed in the narrow space between the bed and wall.
Alfie watched as he moved around the mattress.
He stopped, then shook his head. “Fuck it,” he muttered.
He didn’t glance back when he said, “You should have stayed out of my bed. I didn’t mean to tarnish your high ideals. ”
“Rhys.” His name came out, scratching along Alfie’s throat like rusty nails.
Rhys shook his head then stalked toward the bathroom.
Alfie watched until the bathroom door closed between them.
He lay there for a beat longer before sitting up and putting his head in his hands.
He’d barely had anything to drink the night before.
Just one beer before he switched to soda.
Even though he wouldn’t be driving, he preferred to keep a clear head around Rhys.
As if that did him any good.
He’d gone and made a mess of this. Rhys was right about one thing. He should have stayed in his own bed the night before. Should have let Rhys fall apart on his own. Instead of falling into this cycle all over again.
He just hadn’t been able to bring himself to do that. His best friend was hurting, and Rhys would hide that pain from everyone. He wished he knew what caused it, and what made Rhys keep picking the scab open.
Alfie wanted to heal it for him, but he wasn’t a doctor.
He wouldn’t know the first thing about something like that.
He could only be there for Rhys. Which meant they needed to take sex off the table.
For good, this time. All it did was complicate what they were to each other. Alfie needed to clear that up.
Just as soon as Rhys came out of the bathroom.