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Ifeel likeI’mflying.Myfingernails dig into his thick shoulder asIspeed up, my hips shoving the length deep.Ittakes a second to find the rhythm and angle without losing my grip on the base, but whenIdoBeck’shead falls back with a string of soundsInever would have expected from him–soft and pleading, with a frantic edge.Hiscock bounces against me asIhit a firm, driving pace, the fastestIcan manage.WhenIdrop my head to kiss his chest, he sinks his fingers deep into my hair and refuses to let go.
Itstartles me when he jolts with a gasp and spurt after spurt of hot cum hits my chest.Justlike in the forest, he prays my name as he comes like it’s the first and last and only thought in his head.Hislegs squeeze my hips, and his grip on my hair tightens past the edge of pain.Myexhausted arm gives out, andIcollapse on top of him, smearing cum between our bodies.
OnceIhelp him slide the dildo out of his ass, we lie there in a tangle of limbs for god knows how long, sticky and gasping.Itry to check in with myself, becauseIjust did two thingsInever thoughtI’dlike, but allIfind is empty-headed bliss and the desire to bask in the warmth ofBeck’sbody.SoIdo.Aftera while, he starts running his finger slowly up and down from the back of my neck to the top of my ass, which pushes me even closer to sleep.
“I’mrecharged now,” he croaks finally, brushing my hair to the side so he can see my face. “You’regonna have to run faster than you’ve ever run in your life next time.Itook it easy on you before.MaybeIwon’t even let you come.”WhenIshiver involuntarily, he smirks dangerously.
“Guesswhat?”Imumble, dropping my head back on his chest and enjoying the attention of his fingers along my skin.
“What?”
“Wehave exactly twenty-seven minutes to figure out how to clean a dildo.”
21
BECK
I’vebeen ignoringAlex’scalls for almost a week.Thethought of talking to him fills me with a bitter, dark ache that feels kind of like hate.ButIhave no idea whoIhate or why.It’sso fucking confusing.Dallaswould sayI’mfinally grieving the loss of my childhood beforeImove on or some shit.AllIknow is that the timeIspend hanging withDalandCalvinare the only parts of each day whereIdon’t feel completely overwhelmed.
Today, whileIwait in the car forScoutto get out of work,Ifind three missed calls fromAlex, followed by two fromPascal.Myheart sinks, because this smells like some kind of gang emergency thatIwon’t have the option to ignore.Idecide to callPascalback, since he’s the personIfeel less like punching.
“Finally,” he gripes when he picks up. “Whatthe hell have you been doing all week?Makingfriendship bracelets?”
“Whatdo you want?”
There’sa pause, followed by clunking and the sound of voices.Ican tell ‘Lexis there with him on speakerphone.Thetwo of them are almost as codependent as we are. “Alexdid something nice for you because he feels bad,”Pascalannounces bluntly. “Soyou two need to get over yourselves.”
Iroll my eyes and flop back in my seat, willingScoutto hurry up. “I’mscared to know.”
Alexclears his throat, and his voice gets louder. “Ifound her.”
Somany thoughts try to cross my mind at once that by the timeIlet them all through one by one,I’vebeen staring out the window in silence for at least a minute. “Don’tmess with me tonight, man.Idon’t have time to chase random leads right now.”
“IhaveAnjaliSantra’scell phone number literally sitting on a piece of paper in front of me.”
“That’snot possible.”Istarted searching forDallas’ mom a year and a half ago, with almost no information and no idea where to start.EverytimeIthoughtI’dfound her, it turned into a dead end.Wewere getting closer, butIfigured it might take another year, if at all.
“Ifyou don’t want it, thenIwon’t give it to you,” he grumbles.
Fora single twisted, sick second,Ialmost tell him to keep it.Mylife is already crumbling around the edges–Idon’t know ifI’mstrong enough for another earthquake right now.Notone that touches the center of my soul.Ipinch myself, hard, to bring the world back into focus. “Sendit to me.AndAlex?”
“Yeah?”
“Thankyou.”
“Ireally am sorry,” he offers. “Aboutthe kid.IfIsee him,I’llmake sure he gets left alone.”
Scoutknocks on the window, making me jump, andIunlock the passenger door asIhang up on the guys.Hebuckles his seatbelt, then turns toward me and freezes. “Myman.Youliterally look like you just saw a ghost.Ifthat shit’s real, please tell them not to pass through me.”
Iexhale slowly, trying to get my thoughts in order.Eversince the night we broughtCalvinhome,Ican’t seem to disconnect my feelings from each other and get them back into their boxes. “You,Roman, andIneed to talk.”
* * *
Ispend the whole drive toDenverInternationalAirportwondering ifIdid the right thing by not tellingDallaswhere we’re going.Itfeels like a betrayal, watching him live his life like normal for a whole week with no idea what’s about to happen.Thenerves are eating me alive inside asItry to rehearse different ways to break the news.ButifItold him in advance, gave him time to overthink it,I’mninety percent sure we wouldn’t be here right now.
Whenthe white, triangular peaks ofDIA’sroof poke up out of the boring grassland,Dallas’ head jerks toward me. “Whatthe hell is going on?”Noneof us have been here before, but everyone knows about the iconic architecture and haunted blue horse statue guarding the road with its massive ballsack on display.
Slidingmy hand across the seat,Icatch his fingers and squeeze. “I’llexplain in a minute,Ipromise.”Dalwon’t take his eyes off my face asScoutpulls into a parking garage and grabs the nearest spot.HeandRomanjump out of the car without a word and make themselves scarce.
