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I slammed the door to the fridge. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit.
“Don’t break the damn door,” he growled.
“Don’t piss me the fuck off,” I snapped back at him.
He crossed his arms over his chest, leveling me with his gaze. “Did you really expect her to always stay single?”
“She has me,” I replied, slapping my chest.
“Friendship isn’t the same. She needs intimacy. She’s a woman, for Christ’s sake. She wants romance and shit.”
I groaned and ran a hand through my damp hair. “Why? That leads to pain. Heartbreak. It destroys people. What we have is ironclad. It’s stronger than romance shit.”
Huck chuckled. “You’re so fucking clueless.”
“Look, just because you fell in love and got married doesn’t mean we all want that. What I have with Genesis is just as fucking strong as what you have with Trinity. It’s just different.”
Huck dropped his hands and straightened. “You keep telling yourself that. But you’re wrong. When I’m buried deep inside my wife and she’s screaming my name, that’s a bond you will never have with a best friend. It binds you in ways that you don’t understand.”
I tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin. “It’s just fucking. I fuck all the time, and not once have I had some bond that is stronger than what I have with Genesis. It means nothing. I like the girls I fuck. It’s a mutual thing. But that isn’t deep. It’s not something I can’t walk away from.”
None of the girls I fucked would ever compare to what I felt with Genesis. That would never change. I knew that for a fact.
“What you do is slam your dick into a cunt to get off. For the pleasure of it. That is a different kind of fucking. The kind I’m talking about ain’t the same thing. It’s sinking my dick into someone that is mine. She belongs to no one else. When you are inside the woman who owns you, there is nothing more powerful. It’s soul-binding that can’t be achieved any other way.” He gave me a pointed look, then walked out of the kitchen.
I glared at the doorway long after he was gone. Why the fuck did that bother me? Was it really something different? Did Genesis have that with Bowie? It felt like a knife was twisting in my stomach. I didn’t want to think that when Bowie fucked her, they had some deep connection. The idea that he had a piece of her that I never would, that he could call her his, made my chest burn. I didn’t like that shit at all. He didn’t own her. She would never completely be his. She couldn’t do that. Could she?
“Dammit, Huck!” I shouted. “I was trying to get sober!”
“You need to get sober!” he shouted back. “Then get your head out of your ass!”
My head wasn’t in my ass. But fucking would get the edge off. Maybe a little distraction for a moment. I needed to go to Devil’s.
Eleven
Genesis
November 23
I glanced down at my phone while I creamed the bowl of potatoes. It was only ten in the morning, and we weren’t eating Thanksgiving lunch until twelve. Bowie had plenty of time to get here. I needed to stop worrying.
Today’s plan was to eat lunch at my parents’ and then dinner at his aunt’s house in Gainesville. I had suggested that we invite his mom over for lunch here and do a family meal together, but he’d shot that idea down. Dad had been released to come home last week, and I didn’t want to leave them on Thanksgiving. I wanted to stay here and bask in the fact that he was home. We didn’t have to face Thanksgiving with him in the hospital.
“Keep an eye on the dressing,” Mom called out from the dining room, where she was setting the table.
She was elaborate with her holiday centerpieces, and with the mess she had on the table right now, this one was going to take a while.
“Okay,” I called back to her just as the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade came back on the television that sat in the corner of the kitchen.
I had moved from the potatoes to working on the green bean casserole when the front door chimed as it opened.
“Please tell me there are pumpkin pancakes left!” Kye called out.
“I saved you a plate! It’s in the microwave,” Mom told him. “Genesis, warm up his pancakes and add some butter before you put the maple syrup on them.”
I looked up from the casserole dish I was working on when he entered the kitchen. “You can warm your own pancakes,” I informed him with a smirk. “Mom might think you need waited on, but I know better.”
Kye walked over to me and put his arm around my back, then kissed my cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Baby Doll.”
