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“Then I think I have an idea,” Xavi said.
Whatamoodyfuck.When Devon got home from the hospital, he spent a full hour venting about the medical system, mental health, his mom’s condition, his dad and his dad’s involvement in his mom’s condition, the rain, and the fucking fate of the world. He also bitched about our weekend getting ruined.
While he complained, I packed. He was still obliviously bitching when I shoved his ass into the truck, and barely stopped to take notice of where we were driving. When I parked in front of our trailer at the track, he finally came to. If no one was going to be here because of the rain, we could be here because of it.
“I don’t think I can be all happy and horny right now, Madd,” he sighed, flopping onto a lawn chair I basically had to steer him to. “My mind’s all fucked up.”
We’d see about that.“Then drink enough to turn your head off and let go of some of this stress.”
He gave me a blue-eyed look. I knew exactly what it meant. He didn't mind drinking, but not when he was in a foul mood.
“You aren’t your dad, Devon. Enough with that shit. Trust yourself.” Every time this guy cracked a beer or even smelled whiskey, he thought he was actively turning into an alcoholic. I got it. Understood it. But I hated it because it meant he didn’t believe in himself. He’d never get out from under his dad’s control if he spent all his energy trying not to be him. I didn’t even mean drinking; just everything. Both of his parents were addicts and they said that shit ran in families, so if that was his reason, I’d support it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his reasoning and until he got his head on straight and learned he was better than Jim, I’d keep pushing him to do things he didn’t want to do. I’d be here to watch his back the entire time.
“Yeah, until I have one too many drinks and I can’t turn it off.” He stared at the unopened can.
Okay, that was better reasoning.
“Fine. No drinking.” I took the beer from him. “But you gotta learn to let shit go. What’s the point of stressing about everything if there’s never a happy outcome?”
Devon rubbed his damp hands down his jeans, staring at the mud puddles forming. I knew the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, so for one night, I wanted to alleviate some of that pressure. I wanted to give him a good feeling to hold on to.
“What’re we gonna do if my dad comes back for us?” he asked, looking at me with hope that I might have the answers.
“Get through it.” I shrugged and grabbed his hand. “Look, asshole. We left your dad, your mom, our brothers, and all that bullshit back at Garron Park. We’re at the track now. Just you and me. Don’t make me kick your ass before I pound it.”
He grinned. Then groaned, not falling for my bait yet. “I’m serious, Madd. I fucked up once already for missing the signals. I don’t want to do that again.”
Don’t punch him.“Talk me through it.”
“I’m scared. Of everything. I’m scared for you to go back to work because I can’t protect you there and I’m gonna miss you. Fuck you for that. I’m scared that my mom is in the hospital and we can’t watch her back. I’m scared Mary is gonna kick her out and then we’ll have no idea how to take care of her. It scares me every time Nate and Xavi go out because those twats are irresponsible as shit and never watch their backs. And I’m scared that my dad is going to actually succeed in taking you from me.” He choked. “I’m just scared, Madd.”
This was night one all over again. There he was, the guy I always thought was the strongest person in the world, looking at me with all the vulnerability he had. The fear leaked through his eyes and weighed on his shoulders, and the worry lines on his face didn’t match the angry furrow he usually had between his brows. This was vulnerable Devon, andlord fucking knowshe was my biggest weakness.
Strength.
“He’s been gone for two months. I get it, okay. I get all the fears. Whatever happens with your mom, we’ll figure it out, but the rest of it? There’s nothing we can really do other than what we’re already doing. We gotta learn to have a few good days with all our bad ones, no?”
“I know,” he agreed, wanting to apologize for being a Devon Downer.
“You know what you need?”
He rolled his eyes. “Tell me.”
“You need to remember what the fuck we’re living for. For me, it’s you, you dumb fuck. You’re what I live for. We’re twenty-six, not eighty-six. I’m healed, you’re alive, and we’re in love, yeah? So smarten the fuck up.”
He smiled shyly. “How are you so sweet and such a dick at the same time?”
“If we can go from hating each other to loving each other, we can do anything, Devon.” There. Sweetness without insult. I was practically Shakespeare.
Devon got stuck staring at me. I watched him transform. The worry in his eyes turned to desire, and the fear in them turned to determination. More than that, I watched the heaviness in his shoulders relax, and in its place, I saw a challenge. He smirked, looking at the forest beside the trailer.
“Remember when we kissed here for the first time?”
I’d never forget it. Mostly that I was too chickenshit to do it and he won that challenge. Best kiss of my life.
He stood up and pointed at the forest where it happened, his eyes on mine. “I’m feeling nostalgic. I want you to fuck me there.”
My cock reacted before my mouth did. I stood up, matching his height.
