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Not after that night.

I’d spent the last couple of nights sleeping in a sleeping bag on the bedroom floor of the run-down foreman’s house. When I wasn’t working myself to the bone, that is. It hadn't exactly been the height of comfort, but at least I knew I wouldn't hurt anyone.

"I want you to come back to the main house."

I glanced at him and said, "Sure you do," and then put a couple more nails in my mouth. I started hammering again, but then Brooks was there, getting in my face. I had a work light in the room so I could see what I was doing, but it left part of the space in shadows.

"If this is about what happened that night, it's not a big deal," Brooks said. I kept working so he was forced to yell over the pounding of the hammer. "Uncle Curtis is worried about you," he added. "You don't have any heat or electricity out here. You haven't been coming in the house even to eat. Why not?"

I snatched the last nail from my mouth and slammed it into the wood with one hit. "I thought that would've been pretty clear by now," I snapped.

"Look, if you're embarrassed because of—" Brooks began to say, but I cut him off when I smashed the hammer into the lumber in front of me.

"I'm not!" I lied. I thought back to the cruel words I’d said to him about his foolishness in getting caught in the storm. I hadn't meant them of course, but they’d worked like a charm. And I was desperate enough to rely on them again. "Go back to the house, Silver Spoon. You got what you wanted. Your uncle is safe from the likes of me. And I sure as shit am getting a lot more peace and quiet out here, away from you."

I expected him to turn tail and run. I needed him to do that. Already I was grabbing the handle of the hammer like it was my lifeline. It was the only thing keeping me from reaching for him. He was wearing the same sweats he’d been wearing that night. His T-shirt, though soft looking, fit snugly over his broad chest. The shirt had the Harvard logo on it. I suspected he’d probably worn it in college and had outgrown it at some point.

"Uncle Curtis—"

"Jesus fucking Christ," I shouted. "If your uncle wants to say something to me, he has enough balls to come out here and do it himself. Stop acting like you're his errand boy. What the fuck do you want?"

Brooks still didn't run. In fact, he seemed to deflate just a little bit. I hated that. I wanted him angry. I wanted him to keep his distance. Because it was getting harder and harder for me to keep mine. He'd already seen way too much of me.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," Brooks murmured, his voice going all soft and unsure. "Not that night in your room… or the…" His hesitation made me want to reach out and touch him and assure him that anything he said to me would be okay. The fact that he was more worried about embarrassing me than what I’d done to him was just more of a reminder that he was still that soft, sweet Brooks at heart. The one I’d become so enamored with when I’d been sixteen.

If I’d still been that guy, I would've loved seeing this Brooks, nurturing him, encouraging him to be who he was. But I’d become way too rough for someone like Brooks. I'd seen too many things. I’d done too many things.

"Or what?" I bit out. My body was humming with thwarted desire and my mind was commanding me to do something about it. He needed to go. He absolutely needed to go.

"Or if I… if I made you uncomfortable the morning after you found me…" Brooks looked at the ground and shook his head. It was all I could do not to tip his chin up and make him keep looking at me. His eyes always said so much about him. Even when he had that stupid fucking mask on that said he was a tough guy like his father, his eyes never lied.

"I, um, remember some stuff that I did before I was fully awake. I'm sorry. I, um, don't have any excuses. I know that you don't want me that way. And I… I, um, yeah, I… um, yeah… I like guys, but I know that you don't and I'm sorry for putting you in a position like that. You shouldn't have had to deal—"

That was as far as I let him get because I couldn't listen to him put himself down anymore. I dropped the hammer at the same time that I cupped the back of his head and dragged him forward. He was still midsentence when I slammed my mouth down on his. He gasped in surprise, but I gave him no time to consider what I was doing. I plunged my tongue into his mouth as I walked him backward until he hit the piece of wood I’d just nailed into place. I grabbed his hip to keep him from moving, but when he did shift his body, it wasn't to get away. He let out this little cry into my mouth, and then his arms were around my neck and he was kissing me back.

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