“That’d be great,” he says.
His words soothe me, and even though I’m not sure how I’ll act around another person, at least I won’t have to deal with it all alone. And at least I’ll be there with someone who gets that I’m fucked up…who’s seen me when it gets bad.
“No, like I’d really like that,” he continues. “A lot. It’s a date then.” He must see me tense up because he immediately says, “Whoa, that was a joke. Trying to get you to relax a bit. Sorry.”
“I’m just on edge. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. And I can’t promise that I’ll be acting normal tonight. In fact, it might end up being the least sexy night we’ll ever share together.”
I notice I’m already suggesting there will be more nights. He must think I’m fucking desperate. Or that things are moving too quickly. God, this was a stupid idea, and I might just scare him off, but maybe if he comes over and sees me have a breakdown, he’ll leave. Maybe that’s what needs to happen before we keep on going with this.
His smile broadens. “I appreciate you asking me over.”
“Good. Okay. Then you should probably grab some clothes from your place and come on over.”
He chuckles.
“What?”
“Nothing. Sorry. You’re making it sound awfully serious. We’ve done this enough that I know the routine.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “You’re right.”
“No, it’s cute. I’ll grab a few things and then come by.”
“Any allergies that I need to know about? Things you don’t like to eat?”
“Pretty good in the allergy department. I’m not a big fan of pasta.”
“No linguini then, I guess,” I tease.
He winks. “Meat’s always good. Big fan of bread, too.”
“Who isn’t?” I ask, feeling my tension subsiding.
“I guess I’ll see you tonight then.” He heads for the door, and as he reaches it, swings back around. “Reese,” he says. “I get that you just need someone there. I know it’s not like a datey thing. So don’t stress. I’m not going to get the wrong idea or anything.”
He says that as though that was my biggest concern, which it’s really not.
Losing my fucking mind is.
But I feel better knowing he’ll be there. At least I can have one thing in my life that has helped make me feel like I’m not a mess. Someone who has made me feel like I’m hot and a good lay.
Like a man.
17
Jay
While I grab my things from Charlie’s place, I dwell on Reese’s serious expression as he walked around the factory, looking like someone close to him had just died. I’ve been on edge on his behalf the past two days at work, terrified that something—some sound, some stray thought—would catch him off guard and send him into one of his panic attacks. I didn’t want him to be in a place where I wouldn’t be able to protect him. Keep anyone else from discovering his secret.
The time we’ve spent together has been so incredible.
I’m sure having a fuck buddy doesn’t mean much to him, but this is closer than I’ve let myself get to a guy in a long time. Since I was in my early twenties when I had screwed around with guys I’d catch on Grindr or Scruff, working up their same schemes on other dumb kids. Guys who’d take advantage. Guys who are the reason why I’m so fucking guarded now.
I like waking up beside Reese, and I was sad when I woke this morning and realized I was in my own bed. And even sadder knowing that Reese was somewhere struggling on his own.
Today gave me hope, though. I figured he was going to let me walk out of his office. Tell me that he needed some more space. But when he actually pushed through his discomfort to ask me over for dinner, that filled me with excitement. Not because it’ll be like any other night. I can tell from what he said that it won’t be. That I’ll likely be there helping him through his pain. But considering how I feel about it, it seems like this is moving somewhere beyond fuck buddies.
God, why am I even letting myself think like that?
I wasn’t joking when I called it a date. I was testing. I wanted to see where Reese stood with us. If he could even consider something more. But I could tell by the way he tensed up about it that this is too soon. We’ve been spending so much time together I guess it got screwy in my dumb brain. But even though we’re not at that place in our relationship, I want to be there for him.
The way he’s broken reminds me of how I’m broken. He wants to keep to himself. Shut out the world. That’s a painful way to live, so I’m happy to be there if I can make it a little easier for him.
When I arrive at Reese’s house, I’m excited. This night feels different. More intimate because I know he’s letting me share something deeply personal with him.
I open the door and head through the living room.
He stands in the kitchen. I’ve seen him in there, making eggs or cereal for breakfast. Fixing me a cup of coffee. But he has a few grocery bags spread out across the bar as he busily works at the adjacent kitchen counter. He glances over, his expression as serious as it was at work today, reminding me that as nice as it is that we’re sharing this moment, it’s not all light and playful.
Reminding me of the dark reason he’s invited me over.
As I near the bar, I see he’s using a rolling pin to flatten out some dough on the counter. “Pizza?” I ask as round the bar and approach him.
“Yeah. You said meat, so I was going to go for meat lover’s, if that’s what you want.”
“Well, you know me. I’m fine with sticking some meat in my mouth.”
He beams, seeming to forget, at least for a moment, the stress of his day. He turns from his work and offers me a tender kiss.
It’s different from the kisses we shared when we first started fucking around. Something more sensual than reckless passion. Something more meaningful. Something that promises more to come. There’s an ease about it that makes me feel confident in what we’re discovering together. It gives me hope. I’m so used to feeling on edge. Like I’m five seconds away from sprinting on to the next place. But when I kiss him like this, I don’t want to run. I just want to stay right here with him.
But this whole setup, dinner and all, makes me uneasy. As datey as it looks, I need to remind myself that it’s not a date.
As he pulls away, I glance around at his various stations. He has bowls filled with vegetables and some filled with raw chicken, sausage, ground beef, and bacon.
“Mmm,” I say. “What do you need help with?”
“No, no. I got this.”
“Come on. I want to help. Don’t make me just sit around being useless.” He appears surprised by my offer.
“What?” I ask. “You thought I was no good in the kitchen?”
“If you want to cook some of the meat, I can take care of cutting up the vegetables.”
“All over it.” I fish around the cabinets and stack a few pans on the stovetop. Then I grab some wooden spoons and spatulas from the drawers.
I catch Reese looking at me instead of tending to the dough. “What?” I ask.
“I like watching you make yourself at home. It’s a good thing.”
And I like hearing him say that.
I get to work. I glance at him occasionally, noticing that he slips back into the same state he was in at work very quickly. I wonder if I’m supposed to talk to him to keep him from going there or if I need to give him space. It reminds me of that day when I was there for his breakdown. When I wasn’t sure how to react. What to do. If I was handling it totally the wrong way or if I was actually helping.
Don’t push, I remind myself. He’s been dealing with this shit for a long time without me. He’s not helpless, and he wouldn’t want me to treat him like he is with the PTSD any more than he would about his leg.
We work together. He covers the raw crust in sauce, cheese, and sliced vegetables. We pile on the meats I’ve been cooking before placing our creation into the
oven.
“Smells fucking amazing already,” he says, setting the digital timer on the stove for fifteen minutes.
“Nice teamwork.” I offer him a kiss. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, but I can feel his distance as he kisses me. I’ve only felt this occasionally since we started fucking, but it’s a coldness from him. He’s not present in the moment. His mind is off somewhere else, and as he pulls away, he looks at me, his expression filled with uneasiness, as though he’s afraid that I’ve noticed.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “And I’m sorry for being all evasive about tonight. It’s… I’m not ready.”
“That’s fine. At least you warned me, and I’m amazed you’re even able to talk to me this much about it.”
“I never would have been okay with doing this before, but you actually respect all these ridiculous boundaries I have up.”
“They’re not ridiculous, and I have my own too, so I get it.”
As patient as I want to be, I wish I could get inside his head. I want to know everything about him. And I want him to share those burdens that weigh heavily on him.
“I’m here,” I say. That’s all he needs to know right now.
He glances around the kitchen. “For not being a date, this sure is the most datey thing we could have done. Sorry about that. I just felt like I should make you some dinner, at least. For being here for me.”
“I want to be here. For this, and I mean, in case you get a little frisky later.”
“Shit. I thought I was clear earlier…”
“That was a joke, Reese. I was trying to be playful. Take your mind off the stress.”
Normally he would have realized I was kidding, but he’s not himself tonight. I have to keep that in mind when I tease him.
“I’m all about you fucking the shit out of me and vice versa,” I add, “but not if you’re not feeling it. Seriously.”
He shifts his gaze to the side, twisting his lip.
“What?” I ask.
“Sorry. My brain’s everywhere tonight. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to come over. I don’t even know why I did.”
“Yes, you do. You knew when you asked me. And I did, too. So I’m not going anywhere, and we’re gonna get through this.”
He takes a deep breath. Then another. “I’m counting backwards,” he says. “Something Laura told me would help calm me down. I have a lot of little tricks I use. That’s one of them. Did you ever think you’d meet someone as fucked up as me?”
“Well, I’m hardly the epitome of normal.”
“I lost someone today,” he says quickly, as though he had to blurt it out or he wouldn’t say it.
“Caleb?” I ask. “I kind of assumed it was something along those lines.”
He nods. “I can’t believe I said that much,” he admits. He heads to the counter and grabs a glass that I assume is his cocktail before downing some of it.
“This day’s never easy,” he says before taking another deep breath.
“I can imagine why.”
But my thoughts are on my brother.
It hurts as I remember the times we played together. How he would laugh so hard. How we would wrestle around and tease each other. To think that Reese could be experiencing anything similar tears at my soul. I wish I could take that pain for him so that he didn’t have to deal with it. Although I don’t know that I’m strong enough because I’m hardly strong enough to handle Todd’s death.
I don’t ever talk about it, but I feel like it might help Reese to know he isn’t alone. Because I know that when he told me about Caleb, I felt some ease just knowing there was someone else who could relate to what I was going through.
“I told you about my asshole father,” I say. I don’t know that I’ll be able to make it through this story, but I figure I can fucking try. I can bail at any point. When it becomes too fucking hard. When it becomes too much for me to bear. Considering the state he’s in, I doubt he’d push or pry. Maybe this is what we both need right now.
“I think he was bitter about having to take care of us. Not a lot of room in his two-bedroom trailer. Mom left us with him. She’d swing back around the house when she needed cash, but she spent most of her time with a guy named Phil. He was her dealer. And she’d go to his house and fuck him for some drugs. She’d still need money, because evidently banging the dealer wasn’t enough for her to get her fix. Dad would fight her a bit for it, but he always caved. I don’t know if he loved her or just felt sorry for her, but he’d hand over however much he could afford, and make sure to give her a few words about how she left him with her goddamn kids. That’s all we were to him. Her kids. And she didn’t even see us as that. Probably because she saw too much of him in us.
“He liked to shout, and he liked to hit. We would kind of take turns with it. If one of us was getting on his nerves, the other would start shit just to redirect his attention. I don’t even think it was on purpose. Just survival. It was always over the stupidest shit. If I did a chore wrong. Or if I got a bad grade in school, or had to come home with a note for getting into a fight. A burden. That’s what I was. That’s what we were. One day, I’d gotten into a fight at school. The principal called him. They were threatening to suspend me. I think he was just mad that he’d have me around the house annoying him all day for a bit. So when I got home, he just started laying into me. I guess it was worse than usual. I told Todd to leave. Screamed at him to go, because when Dad was done with me, he was liable to turn all that anger on Todd. But I think he was worried because Dad was real mad that day. Mom had come by the house asking for more money that he didn’t have, and I guess Todd thought he might take things too far. And Dad was laying in some good blows. Todd started screaming, begging Dad to stop. He grabbed Dad’s arm, and Dad just tossed him back.
“I know Dad was just trying to move him out of the way so he could keep throwing me around, but Todd tripped over the side of the couch and fell back. His head smacked into the side of the coffee table. I knew he was hurt, but Dad didn’t notice. So when I was trying to get away—get over to help my brother—he just thought I was trying to get out of my punishment. For the first time in my life I was able to beat him off of me so that I could check on my brother.”
Reese stands before me in silence. In suspense. Waiting to hear what happened to my poor bro.
I can’t say it, though. It reminds me of how Reese couldn’t say it when he was talking about Caleb.
“I just remember his eyes. Wide open, like he was about to spring back to his feet and start laughing and smiling. Oh, God, I’ve never seen anyone laugh and smile like he did. Never seen anyone filled with that much life. And for him to be taken from me, that…that was too much.” Tears stream down my face.
As much as it hurt to share, there was something about it that freed me.
Reese hugs me. “I’m so sorry,” he says.
“It’s hard for me when that day comes around, so I understand.”
I feel so naked. And it’s nice to feel safe in his arms. To feel like he’s willing to shield me in such a fragile moment.
I’m amazed that I was willing to open up about something I’ve kept within me for so long. But I’m also so fucking relieved, and I just hope that it helped him, even a little bit. That it let him know, however bad it is, he’s not on his own tonight.
18
Reese
I’m horrified by Jay’s story about that bastard father of his.
I hold him close, not just because I’m consoling him, but because his loss reminds me of my own. And yet, helping him in his moment of pain gives me a break from my own hurt since he needs someone to be there for him right now.
He clings to me. I’m not sure if I’m still shaking or if it’s just less noticeable because he is too.
“I’m so sorry, Jay,” I say.
As he relaxes, he takes a breath and pulls away. “I’m fine. Didn’t mean to dump that on you. Just thought…I don’t know, it might make you feel like yo
u’re not alone.”
“It did, and thank you for that.” It means a lot knowing he cared enough to share something so deeply personal. Something that shook me to my core. “What happened to your dad?” I ask.
“He went to jail. He’s serving his time. He won’t be getting out for a long time, but he’ll be getting out. Something he doesn’t deserve, the fucker. When he does, I sure as fuck won’t be there to help him get back on his feet.” He wipes the tears from his eyes, and I pull him close again, offering a kiss. He relaxes in my hold and kisses me back softly. He sets his palm against my face.
I want to take away his hurt. I wish I could hunt down his motherfucking father and beat the shit out of him to pay him back for his crime, not just against his brother, but against both of them. No one should have to endure that cruelty at the hands of a parent. Almost makes me relieved I never had that issue. As much as I used to fantasize about having parents, I forget they can be a real nightmare sometimes. Not everyone is lucky enough to get good ones.
After the pizza finishes baking, we prepare two plates and eat at the kitchen table. “It tastes so fucking good,” Jay says, scarfing it down like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“Couldn’t have done it without you.”
He smiles as he fans his mouth. “Oh, shit,” he says.
“Guess you put a little too much hot meat in there,” I joke as he drinks from his glass of water quickly.
When he recovers, he says, “Fuck that was hot.” As painful as that probably was, it’s clear it distracted him from the story he told me earlier. Brought him back to the present.
He blows out and sucks in a few times.
“I can give you something to suck on if that’d make it better,” I say with a wink. He laughs, and I find myself laughing, too. Letting myself get lost in the moment with him, appreciative that I had the strength to invite him over this evening.
Once he’s recovered and starts eating again, he says, “These vegetables from your garden are good. Where did you get this green thumb from?” He’s seen me working in the garden, but he’s never really asked questions about it. Just assumed it was a hobby.
Between These Sheets Page 10
