“Fuck, Fraser—”
Jett shoved the towel in his face to shut him up.
Fine. He deserved it.
He wasallowed to stand and leave the shower once Jett deemed that he was no longer wet. Harrison tried to shoo him away because he knew he could take it from there, but Jett ignored him.
“I’m not leaving, so get over it.” Jett followed him to the bed, his arms outstretched like he was waiting for Harrison to fall or stumble. He didn’t relax until they reached the bed, and Harrison fell onto it as gracefully as possible.
He thought that was the end, but then Jett tucked the blankets around him and hurried from the room.
Harrison listened to the commotion in the living room, shaking his head at how loud Jett was. It sounded like he was being robbed for Christ’s sake.
Jett returned holding more blankets and Harrison’s heating pad, quickly cocooning him and setting the heating pad on his bad leg.
Harrison didn’t say a word, not even when Jett got into the bed while still naked, lying so close that they were touching side to side and sharing body heat.
Apparently, he was being guarded now.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” said Jett. His voice had lost it’s firmness, but hearing how upset he was made Harrison feel worse. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t argue, but Jesus, Harrison. How did you end up like that?”
Harrison stared at the ceiling. The pattering of rain against his window was no longer upsetting to him now that he had no energy to be triggered by it, but fuck, he hated rain.
The muscles in his jaw hurt like hell, but he owed Jett an explanation after scaring him. It was the least he could do.
“Sometimes it helps me function if I can…numb myself like that.”
He took a deep breath because this was the first time he was saying this out loud, and for some reason it fuckinghurt. “Doing it reminds me of that night, and bringing myself back gets me closer to…them.”
Jett remained silent.
Harrison didn’t know how much Jett knew about the accident, but he hoped he could fill in the blanks because it was impossible for him to talk about it.
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” said Harrison. “I don’t know why it helps, or why I let myself do it. Trying to explain it is hard…I don’t think anyone will understand it, and it’s okay if you don’t either. I’m used to dealing with this shit on my own.”
Jett was silent for a long minute, and Harrison was starting to think he had fallen asleep when he spoke again, softer than he expected.
“I do know what it’s like to do things on your own—to feel like you’re drowning, but explaining it to anyone feels like too much. I live like that every day.”
Turning his body more so he could look at him, Harrison saw the dark silhouette of Jett against the rain-streaked window. Somehow, even in the darkness, he looked sad.
“W-What do you mean?” Harrison asked, his words catching in his throat.
Jett wiggled closer, and his body was like the warmth of the sun next to Harrison’s. He was quiet for another minute before he continued, as though he needed to gather his scattered thoughts into a web and spin out the details of what he wanted to say.
“I had a younger brother,” Jett’s quiet voice said, barely loud enough to hear above the whistling of the wind. “Chase. We were eleven and twelve when our parents got divorced. It felt like we were a happy family one minute, and the next, they were angry with each other and packing bags. Before the school year was out, my mom left to go to South Carolina with some guy. She barely talked to us at all—
and then came flouncing back like nothing changed at the end of the summer. Not to see us, but to finalize the divorce and announce that she was marrying this new guy.”
Jett paused, letting out a shaky breath.
“That’s when the divorce got really ugly. She wanted to take us both with her, but my dad wouldn’t have it. Counsellors were brought in, and they talked to us like we were babies and asked us what we wanted. Social workers assessed us, and eventually, Mom took off again because she was pregnant by the new guy and wanted to get married right away.
Chase only lasted until Christmas. He missed having a mom around. Dad and I were always closer because of hockey, but Chase was sweeter; softer even. He liked books, animals and art. He didn’t want to spend his sparetime at the rink with us, but he did anyway. I’d be on the ice practicing, and he’d be spread out in the stands drawing in his sketchpad. But he missed Mom. I’d always had trouble connecting with Mom since she was distant because of the hockey.
So, Chase visited her for Christmas, but I refused to go. I had tournaments and practice. I had friends to hang out with. I was thirteen by then and thought I was more important. So he flew to South Carolina—and he decided to stay there. He called me and Dad in early January and said he was starting school there, and he was so excited. It was the first time in over a year that he hadn’t been miserable.
Dad was angry, but not at Chase. I remember he got into it with Mom over the phone because she had borderline kidnapped him. It was a fine line, since he was the one who had let Chase get on the plane, and she was his mother, and so on.”
