Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1)

by Victoria McFarlane

  Even if it’s the last thing I do.

  Thirty-eight

  It’s just breaking dawn when my tired legs carry me from the hospital. Mom and dad are quiet behind me.

  Colt and Decker left some time ago to get some rest, reluctant as they were. They would be back at visiting time today to see Peyton but I needed to clear some things with them up first. Mostly, I needed to talk to my parents.

  I climb into the back of my dads sedan and fight the fatigue that claws at my eyes. Just a couple more hours and I can be back here. Once I’ve seen her awake, once we’ve talked, I’ll sleep.

  “Let’s get breakfast,” I tell my parents, “I want to talk to you.”

  My dad meets my eyes in the mirror and nods, pulling into the lot of a diner a little down the way from the hospital. It’s early doors so it’s quiet inside, a couple of waitresses milling back and forth between the tables that are occupied, topping up coffee cups and delivering food.

  We slide into a booth near the windows and order coffee firstly. I wrap my hands around the mug, inhaling the scent.

  “What’s going on, Fletcher?” Mom speaks first.

  I sigh, “I really don’t want you to think badly of me,” I tell them, feeling like a little kid again, “but Peyton and I, we’re together.”

  My dad practically sags into his chair with relief whilst mom just looks at me with such knowledge that I feel like an even bigger idiot.

  “We know.”

  “Huh?”

  Dad laughs, “You really think we couldn’t tell? You’re not great at sneaking around and well,” he looks to mom who reaches down and plucks something from her bag, a square piece of paper, a photograph maybe. She slides it across the table.

  My eyes find the picture and a smile tugs at my mouth. It was the photograph mom took the day before Thanksgiving, when Peyton came for dinner and it was the moment mom managed to capture when we thought we were alone.

  My arm is tucked around Peyton’s body, her in that skin fitting red dress and converse. My fingers wrap around her hip and I’m staring down at her, it’s as clear as fucking day just how much I adore her. She looks up at me, her lips parted, cheeks slightly flushed but I see it in her too. She wants me as much as I want her, needs me.

  My chest inflates and I want to pound my chest.

  She’s fucking mine.

  “Tyler would be okay with this.”

  I don’t know how she knew I needed that. No one could say, one hundred percent that Tyler would be okay with this. But I have to trust my mother’s instincts.

  “You’re not upset?” I ask.

  Dad laughs, “No! Why would we be upset?”

  “Because it’s Peyton and she was with Tyler for so long.”

  Mom squeezes my hand, “I’m going to ask you a question.”

  I nod, waiting for her to continue.

  “If Ty,” she pauses and sucks in a breath, “if Ty were still alive and they broke up, what would you do?”

  I think for a moment and then I just go with the most honest answer I have, “It’s Peyton. It’s always been Peyton so I would have sucked it up, taken the anger from Ty and taken her.”

  “So why do you feel like you need permission now?”

  “Because,” I shrug, “because I feel like I should be taking a beating now. I feel like it’s a betrayal because he can’t tell me any different.”

  “Tyler would have been pissed, sure,” dad says, “but he would have wanted you to be happy, he would have wanted that for Peyton too. God knows I love that girl like she’s my own daughter, I want to see her happy and if you’re that then no one should stand in your way.”

  “I have to fix it first,” I tell them. “I upset her.”

  Dad chuckles, “If you’re serious, if this is it for you son, get used to it!”

  Mom swats him, “Peyton adores you. She’ll understand.”

  _

  The house is quiet when dad drops me out front, choosing to head back home to get some sleep. They’ll be back tomorrow to see Peyton and it’s now time to face the music with Colt and Decker.

  They’re pissed.

  I couldn’t blame them.

  Music trickles down from the rooms upstairs and I head that way, stopping at the foot of the stairs. Peyton’s fall replays in my head. The way her body tumbled and rolled and then the deafening thud of her head slamming into the floor, it all replays in my mind like some sick movie stuck on repeat. Someone has cleaned the blood from the floor and I’m not sure if I’m thankful for the hard floors or not. On one hand, it means I won’t have a constant reminder of the fall with a stain in the carpet but if we had carpets, perhaps the fall wouldn’t have been so bad, maybe it would have been a bump rather than a fracture.

  A full body shiver runs through my muscles and I force myself past the area, taking the steps two at a time. I pound a fist on Colt’s door.

  It opens but he doesn’t hang around, he just turns back to his desk and sits in the chair, swiveling it to me whilst he links his fingers together and rests them on his stomach to peruse me.

  It kind of feels like I’m on trial, especially with the way Decker steps up behind me, blocking the door.

  “How is she?” Decker asks.

  “I haven’t been back yet,” I tell them, “I’m going after this.”

  “And what is this?”

  “Look,” I sigh, “I’m sorry.”

  “Why’d you lie?”

  “I wasn’t lying, I just wasn’t ready to tell you. I had shit to deal with.”

  “You hurt her.” Colt grunts.

  I wince, “I know.”

  “You love her,” Decker this time.

  “I do.”

  Colt stands up, nostrils flaring as he squares up to me. He’s gonna hit me, I can’t say I blame him. Perhaps it’s what I deserved right now. He bumps his chest into mine, causing me to stumble back a little.

  “I warned you,” he growls, “I fucking warned you and I knew something was happening between the two of you. What was it? Why the fuck couldn’t you tell us?”

  “I was scared!” I yell back.

  “Of what!?”

  “You fucking hating me because she’s Tyler’s girl.”

  A humorless laugh erupts from Colt and he steps back, shaking his head, “She’s your girl and always has been.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Decker chimes in, “I love Tyler and whatever but come on, she was never going to be his forever. It’s just a little more difficult because Ty’s your bro.”

  “Mm,” I scrub a hand over my face, “I should have listened to her. If I had none of this would have happened.”

  “She wanted to tell us?”

  “She did.”

  Colt nods, “You should have listened to her.” He agrees, “But this shit is done. Whatever happens now, it’s on your head. If she leaves your ass then I won’t fucking blame her, hell I’ll even take her side.”

  I narrow my eyes, “Thanks for the moral support.”

  He shrugs.

  With that settled, I take a deep breath and leave them to it, heading to my room to change and head back to the hospital. Peyton’s mom hasn’t called to say she’s awake yet and that makes me nervous. By the time I’ve pulled into the lot outside the hospital I’m a fucking mess of nerves. It’s busier now, people milling around the hospital, visiting family, nurses and doctors talking in hushed tones in the corners of the rooms. I reach Peyton’s floor and begin the trek down the hall coming to a stop outside Peyton’s room. The door is open, the blinds still closed so it’s darker than the rest of the place but I can hear voices. Peyton’s voice.

  When I step into the room everything stops, time, my breathing, everything as her eyes meet mine and she smiles.

  “Hi,” I breathe, frozen.

  “Hi,” she croaks.

  Vaguely, I’m aware of her parents stepping from the room and the door clicking closed but I’m still stuck, like my feet have been glued to the floor. />
  She looks pale and tired but alive.

  “Peyton,” I whisper.

  “Come here,” she says, “Fletcher, come here.”

  My legs carry me the rest of the way and I drop into the chair, reaching out and grasping her hand, “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she brushes her thumb over my knuckles.

  “I should have listened to you baby, I was being selfish and an idiot. I thought I lost you.”

  “You haven’t,” the steel in her voice has my eyes pinging up to hers, “You can’t lose me, Fletch, I’m yours.”

  “I didn’t say you were no one baby, you didn’t hear me.”

  She smiles, “I may have over-reacted a little.”

  I lean in and kiss her, gently, too afraid I’ll hurt her. She tries to deepen the kiss but I pull away, choosing to rest my brow against hers.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Like I got trampled by a rhino,” she laughs.

  “Any pain? Headache?”

  “A little but the doctors said that’s normal. I’ll be here for a few more days for observation.”

  “I was so scared,” I tell her, “so fucking scared.”

  “You look tired,” she murmurs.

  I nod, “I haven’t slept yet.”

  “Sleep,” she tells me, watching me as I settle back in the chair. Now I’ve seen her awake, now I know we’re going to be okay, the tiredness that has been lurking at the edges all day finally takes hold. With her hand in my mine, the sound of her breathing and the soft way her thumb strokes my skin, I finally sleep.

  Thirty-nine

  “Be careful!” Fletcher barks.

  “I swear to god, Fletcher,” I growl at him, “If you don’t let go of me I’m actually going to scream.”

  He scowls down at me, his hand grasping mine so tightly I worry for my fingers, “You’ve not even left the hospital yet.”

  I roll my eyes, “I’m fine, it’s just a few steps and would you look at that,” I squint through the glass doors, “I only have to walk maybe ten foot to the waiting car.”

  “Why don’t I get you a wheelchair?” He prompts, “Then we’re both happy.”

  My nostrils flare, “I am not going in a wheelchair, I can walk. I’d also appreciate getting some blood back to my fingers.”

  His hold loosens immediately but he doesn’t let go, not fully, his arm holds me up from behind, my feet almost not touching the floor as if to carry me the rest of the way. He probably would too.

  Mom and Eric left earlier today after I insisted I would be fine and Fletcher had all but demanded he be the one to nurse me back to health. No complaints from me.

  I was looking forward to playing doctor with him.

  He helps me, oh so slowly, down the three steps and out the door to where he’s pulled the truck up. “Fletcher, I’m not made of glass.”

  “You broke your head,” he deadpans.

  I laugh, “I’m fine.”

  I’d been in the hospital for a week already, the headaches and severe pain had disappeared days ago. I knew it was going to take months for me to be one hundred percent again but the wound on my head was healing and I had no lasting damage. The fall was bad, I had bruises all down one side of my body which had now faded dramatically, leaving only yellowish shadows on my skin.

  I did have a small patch on the back of my head where the doctors had to shave the area to be able to stitch the wound so I’d be wearing hats for a while until I can get into a salon so they can work some magic on my hair.

  Fletcher helps me into his truck, practically lifting me from the floor to place me in the seat as if I were a child, when he goes to help me buckle up I put my foot down, swatting at his hand and snatching the belt away.

  “I swear to god,” I warn.

  He grins and kisses me quickly, a peck on the lips. That’s all he’s done all week and as soon as we get back to the house I’d be changing that. None of this walking on eggshells nonsense.

  The drive back is quiet, I watch the city rolling by and then he pulls into the drive outside the house he shares with the guys. Colt’s Volvo is parked there and I can see the lights on inside. They’re just as bad as Fletcher, doting on me like I’m broken. The only person still treating me normally is Demi.

  Before Fletch can get round to my side of the car, I’ve already got the door open and I’m climbing out.

  “Woman!” He scolds, his hands coming to my waist to help me the rest of the way down.

  “Fletch,” I look up at him, at the wonderful man that’s both my best friend and soul mate.

  “Yeah baby?” He softens.

  “Kiss me,” his eyes bounce between mine and then he gently presses his mouth to mine. I don’t let him pull away, my hand fists in the back of his hair, holding him to me whilst my tongue traces the seam of his lips.

  A low grumble, something akin to a grunt and a moan escapes from his throat and I feel him against my stomach, his arousal as evident to me as my own burning in my veins.

  “Peyton,” he growls in warning.

  “If you don’t touch me I’ll take matters into my own hands,” I hit back.

  His eyes blaze with barely restrained desire and I smile smugly. “Get your ass inside.”

  I smooth my hands up his abdomen, feeling his muscles jump in anticipation under my palms. “I love you.” I tell him.

  “I love you.”

  _

  I step out of the bathroom, my eyes falling on the body in the bed. Fletcher lays there, the sheet pooled around his hips, his steel chest and abdominals on show. I could stare at him all day. I follow the dips and ridges of his muscles, my own core tightening as I get a real good look at him.

  He’s watching me with as much intensity, taking in my bare legs, his jersey falling to mid thigh and I’m wearing nothing underneath.

  “Peyton,” he moans, his hands balling into fists, tangling up the bed sheets.

  I cross the space between us but before I can get anywhere near him he’s lowering me onto my back, cradling the back of my head so I don’t bounce down onto the bed. My legs fall open as he settles between them, his cock pressing into my centre. A primitive growl vibrates through me, the lust already causing my toes to curl, fires up a few hundred degrees. His mouth captures mine and it’s no where near as gentle as before. His tongue duals with mine, teeth clash, lips bruise as his hips grind against mine, his cock, still contained behind his boxer briefs rubs my clit.

  My own hips roll, increasing the friction and I reach between us, rubbing him through the cotton. He moans into my mouth.

  “I want you,” I tell him.

  “Your head,” he moans.

  “Is fine,” I whimper, “please.”

  He allows me to tug down his boxers and then he’s right there, the head of him breaching my sex, pleasure shooting through me and causing my muscles to spasm.

  He slides in slowly, inch by inch until finally, he’s fully inserted.

  We both still, moaning in unison at the sensations. With his body propped on his elbows at the sides of my head, he looks down at me, eyes holding mine as he moves in and out of my body. Fingers play with my hair, every now and then he drops a kiss to my cheek, my nose, my lips.

  I can feel my pleasure increasing, my muscles growing tight and I lift my hips, meeting his thrusts and when my climax hits, my eyes roll back, my lips parting on a breathless moan.

  His hips move faster, harder, riding out my orgasm whilst he chases his own. When it finally hits, his hips still and his head drops to the space between my neck and shoulder, teeth grazing my skin as my flesh muffles his moan.

  He stays there, his body on mine whilst I run my fingers up and down his spine.

  “How’s your head,” he eventually whispers, pushing back to his elbows to look down on me.

  “Still good,” I smile.

  For a long while he simply stares down at me and with each second that passes my soul is filled, like a lock clicking into place
or finding that final puzzle piece, everything falls into place.

  I’m home.

  Forty

  It’s been three weeks since I brought Peyton home from the hospital. Things have started to go back to normal, she’s resumed her classes but she hasn’t left my side in between those times and I’ve never been happier. She barely goes to her dorm, choosing to stay with me every night.

  It feels wrong to think about her with where I am right now but I have to allow myself this. If I don’t I’ll war with myself for the rest of my life.

  “Hey bro,” I say as I stop in front of his headstone, “I took a page out of Peyton’s book and bought flowers instead of beer.”

  I wave the small bouquet and then crouch, positioning them so they lean against the stone, the buds facing the grey sky.

  My fingers trace the engraved letters of his name.

  “I’d like to believe that you’re cool with this. I guess we’ll never know, huh? But I need you to know I love her. More than anything in my entire life and I’m happy. It’s been three years since you left me bro and every day I’ve been in pain but she makes it better. She really does and I hope you understand.

  “I’m sure you do, you were lucky enough to have her for those few years, you know exactly what I mean. She’s amazing. She’s this perfect soul that seems to ease mine.

  “I’ll make her happy, I promise. I will give her everything she deserves. I’ll treat her right, I’ll love her with all I have every day of my life for as long as I get to keep her. She’s doing better, her head is healing and she’s going back to normal now. Life is moving on. I’m sad you’re not here with us but we’ll live each day like it’s our last. Life’s short,” a laugh, “but you know that.”

  I press my palm over his name, closing my eyes against the emotion.

  “I miss you.”

  A gentle wind blows through the cemetery, teasing the petals on the flowers.

  “Is that your way of saying you’d prefer beer?” I joke.

  Something settles in me. It had been a long time coming, I hadn’t realized I needed healing. Nothing would ever take away the grief, the absolute devastation that comes with losing someone so close to you but it has gotten easier.