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Something brushes the back of my hand, and I flinch. There’s a shuffling sound, and I peek up over my knees to see Paul sitting on the floor with his legs on either side of mine like a barricade while he watches me.
“You’re okay.” His eyes meet mine, filled with determination and pain while I’m falling the fuck apart. I hate myself for how weak I am.
“I don’t—” My words are cracked and pitiful, but he hears them. “I don’t want to stop.”
A flittering memory from last night flashes in my head. Nikki kissed me. Fuck.
“Wait.” Paul tenses at my words. “Nikki was there. I think she kissed me.”
He grits his teeth, the muscle in his jaw jumping, but he nods. I can see his need to touch me simmering below the surface, but he holds back.
“You’re mine. No one touches you but me. Do you understand?” Paul’s voice is warm but hard like he’s trying to keep himself under control.
I nod and drop my forehead back to my arms so I don’t have to see him anymore.
14
Paul
“Brendon,” I breathe his name like a plea. “Can I touch you?”
Not being able to touch him is killing me. It’s so weird for him to not want it. It scares me.
I barely hear the whimpered “Please,” but I move slowly. When he flinched away from me, it broke my heart, and I’m not sure I can handle him doing it again.
His breathing is coming faster, like he’s fighting to hold on to the emotions boiling inside of him, but it’s cracking. Slowly, I reach for his hand. The same way I would a scared animal. I don’t want him to push me away, but I half expect him to.
Lifting his hand, I open his fist and press his palm against my cheek, his red-rimmed, glassy eyes peek over his arms to watch me, and I hold his gaze. I hold his hand against my face, nuzzling his palm as he lifts his head. A tear trails down his face, and when I brush it away with my thumb, he breaks. Brendon lets out a sob and crashes into me, wrapping his arms and legs around me, and burying his face in my neck while he cries.
My best friend, the love of my fucking life, is in pain and fighting himself.
I hold him against me while he lets out the emotions threatening to choke him. I don’t say anything, I don’t have to. Not right now. He’s falling apart, and I’ll be here to pick up the pieces when he’s ready.
We sit there for long minutes as he gets it out of his system, letting go of the pain he’s carrying. Hurt I hope he’ll let me shoulder the burden of.
Once he slows down, the muscles of his back relaxing and his sobs quietening, I whisper against his skin.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” I kiss his hair, his neck, all the parts of him I can reach.
“Can you lay with me?” His voice is so small, like a child who’s afraid of being rejected.
“Of course.” I smile at the request. I will never turn him down when he needs me.
I stand and offer him a hand up, which he takes.
Brendon reaches for my shirt and pulls it up. I lift my arms so he can get it off and do the same to him. Being skin to skin is so fucking intimate. It’s comfort and love and peace.
I kiss his forehead, and he reaches for my pants with a blush on his cheeks that’s cute as fuck.
“What do you need right now?” I watch him as he moves, looking for what he doesn’t want to say out loud.
“Cuddles.” The word is almost aggressive, like he’s afraid I’ll make fun of him for it.
“Okay.” I hook my fingers under his chin and lift his face to mine. I wait until his eyes meet mine, then I brush my lips against his in a careful, lingering kiss. “Come on.”
I grab his hand and pull back my blankets to climb in. Brendon drops his pants in a heap on the floor, hurries to turn off the lights in his hockey underwear, then slides in next to me. His cheek is on my chest with my arm around him and his thigh between mine. I run my hand through his hair, and he settles.
“Do you want to watch something?”
