by Freya Barker
-
Breakfast for dinner, is what Ike opted for. I’d forgotten he never had a chance to eat the food I’d set aside for him. Since there was nothing decent to eat this time of night in the hospital, except for some crap from a vending machine, Ike suggested a twenty-four hour diner just around the corner. I managed to eat a few pancakes at his insistence. He was right, it might well be a long night.
“I’m sure this is not what you signed on for,” I say pensively as we make our way back to the hospital hand in hand.
“What’s that?”
“This continuous cycle of drama that seems to follow me around.”
I’m abruptly stopped with a jerk, and Ike steps right into my space, his hands holding me by my upper arms.
“Enough,” he says firmly, his lips a straight line. “I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again and again until you hear me. This?” he waves his hand in demonstration. “Is not your fault. None of it is. Not one little bit. You have done nothing wrong. Just because your family prefers to think you’re the problem instead of your father, is not in your control. It never was.” His hands slide up my arms, along my shoulders, and finally come to rest on either side of my face, as he holds me in place and rests his forehead against mine. “The storm around you is not what defines you, Vivian. What defines you is your ability to get up each time a new wave knocks you down. That’s not drama, babe—that’s life. I’ll take the storm, over any kind of smooth sailing, simply because it comes with you. And one last thing,” he adds. “Don’t think for one second that I don’t realize exactly what I have in you. That I don’t know how lucky I am. A beautiful, strong woman, who knows how to stand on her own, yet trusts me enough to let me have her back.”
Okay. That’s fucking beautiful. I swallow down the lump of emotion his words evoke.
“Isaac,” I breathe, blinking furiously to keep the tears from spilling. “I was just thinking how blessed I feel and you just illustrated perfectly why. Don’t catch me, though—I think I like falling in love with you.”
Ike
“Dorian—Jesus, has anyone thought to call Dor?”
Viv stops just inside the waiting room where her family is once again assembled.
“Taking a red-eye. His flight comes in first thing tomorrow morning.” Nolan once again steps up as the family spokesperson, something that is starting to piss me off. I hate seeing Viv treated like this. She fucking doesn’t deserve the barely contained blame radiating from her mother. Owen and Aaron are slightly better at it, and from what I can see, Owen in particular, keeps checking Viv from the corner of his eye. I can’t help wonder if this is more a case of divided loyalty, than a question of believing for them.
“Do you know what time they’re coming in?” Viv asks, once again ignoring everyone but Nolan in the room. “I was going to pick them up.”
“You were going to pick them up? Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something?” This from Owen, who suddenly found his voice apparently. I don’t like the way he squints when he looks at his sister. It reeks of mistrust. Of course, now every eye is on Viv and she squirms in her seat. No one knows her brother was already planning to be here this weekend, together with his partner, Kyle. That was going to be surprise, all by itself, and something Dorian had to do himself.
“Didn’t you say your brother has some business in Boston? That he might be coming in with his boss?” I direct this at Viv, hoping she’ll pick it up and run with it. Last thing I want is for her to be the one to drop another fucking bomb on her family. Viv slowly closes her eyes as she exhales audibly before turning her face to Owen.
“Ike’s right. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure yet, but he mentioned the possibility last time I talked to him.”
Fuck. And she was doing so well.
“When did you talk to him?” Suspicion is laid on thick when this time Viv’s mother speaks up. Viv instantly realizes her mistake, given no one knows she went to San Fran.
“Last weekend.” She gives away as little as possible, which is probably a good idea.
“I’m surprised he took your call.” Her mother looks away as she says it, and I have to bite my tongue not to say anything. Turns out I don’t have to, Nolan does.
“Enough. Unless you are ready to have the entire load of family laundry hung out in public right now, I suggest you knock it off.”
His mother flinches at his words, obviously not used to being spoken to like that. But more surprising are the other two brothers, who don’t say anything. In fact, they both avoid looking anyone in the eyes, even their mother, who throws out a silent appeal for support with her eyes. Nothing. Stuck in the middle.
“I wanna go home,” Viv whispers, her mouth pressed against my shoulder.
“I know, baby. As soon as we hear something, we’re out of here,” I say just loud enough for her to hear.
Luckily we don’t have to wait long. About two hours after they took her father to the OR, the surgeon and his sidekick are back.
“Went well,” he says to Viv’s mom, sitting down in the chair across from her. “The surgery, in this case, is probably the easiest part. What is going to be much harder is the recovery. Given that your husband is still recovering from a stroke, has dementia, and is often confused already, makes it even more difficult, since a successful recovery requires a lot from the patient. I will put a note in the file for our social work department to set up a meeting with you. For now he’s in recovery, we’re letting him wake up slowly to minimize his confusion. You’ll be able to see him soon. A nurse will come get you.” He stands and looks around the room. “Only one at a time and only direct family. I’ll be in to check on him tomorrow.”
A chorus of “thank yous” follows him out of the room.
“Well, thank God he got through that,” Owen says, rubbing his mother’s back. “I’m just gonna skip out and call Lydia, she’s probably waiting up to hear.”
As soon as he leaves the room, I jump into action. “Glad he came through surgery okay, Mrs. Lestar,” I address her directly. “We’d better head home; we need to figure out what time your son’s flight comes in and catch some sleep before picking him up at the airport.” I stand up and pull Viv up with me. “We’ll come straight here after to see how he’s doing.”
No response from their mother, but a barely visible chin lift from Nolan and a flick of the eyes from Aaron. It’s something. Not much, but something. I wrap my arm around Viv’s shoulder, and she slips both arms around my waist, hanging on like I’m her anchor. She hasn’t said anything either. Whatever gain she’s made over the past few weeks, these few hours in hostile territory have been toxic for her. Nolan opens the door and steps outside with us.
“Viv, I wish you would let me—”
I can feel her head shaking against me already, when she stops him.
“No. She’s my mother, no one should have to remind her what that means,” she poignantly says. Right on the mark, and I notice that Nolan gets it too. Wordlessly he reaches out and pulls her into his arms. Viv goes willingly but doesn’t seem to reciprocate, her arms now limply at her side.
“All right. Let’s get you to bed.”
Nolan grudgingly releases her, and I slip my arm around her, while hers wrap tightly around my middle again. I turn us toward the exit when the big looming figure of Owen blocks our way. His face a mask of regret and guilt. He must’ve heard every word.
“Viv,” he starts, but she turns her face into my shoulder immediately. I know she’s had enough.
“I’m taking her home,” I tell him resolutely before walking past him to the elevators.
-
“I have to call Dorian,” she says when we walk into my house. I didn’t bother asking, I just drove straight there.
“Babe, you’re dead on your feet. Why don’t you crawl into bed. I’ll call and find out what time their flight comes in. You get some rest.”
Surprisingly she doesn’t object. Of course it’s been a long day again and these late nights are
becoming more the norm than the exception. It sure the fuck is wearing me out.
I drag my ass into the spare bedroom that doubles as my office and flip open my laptop to see if I can find the flight they’re coming in on. Too many fucking choices. Going to have to call Viv’s brother.
I use Viv’s phone, since it has the number, and Dorian obviously thinks it’s her when he answers.
“You okay, Sis? We’re just about to board.”
“It’s Ike.”
“Ike, everything okay? Is she all right?”
“Just tired. We just got in, it’s been a tough night for her.” I run a hand over my face. Been a tough night all round.
“Damn. Yeah, I can imagine. Listen—we’ve gotta get on the plane, but tell her I’ll be there soon. We checked flights directly to Portland, but with the stopovers we’d still get there later than flying into Boston and driving in. We land a little after six tomorrow morning and will rent a car at the airport. Kyle says he needs his independence. Should be in Portland around nine, at the latest.”
“Dorian?” I jump in before he hangs up. “Do me a favor and come straight to Viv’s apartment. We’ll wait for you there.”
“Will do. Take care of her,” he says before signing off.
Viv is curled up on her side on the bed, fully dressed, with her knees drawn up so tight to her body, she looks like a child. I’m tempted to leave her like that, but decide against it. She doesn’t look comfortable.
The moment I touch her ankle to take off her sneakers, she startles and kicks up with her leg, catching me hard on the chin. Her eyes wild, she scrambles up against the headboard, pulling her legs up tight against her chest.
“Baby, it’s just me.” I reach out to touch her arm, but she flinches away, her breathing erratic. “Hey,” I try again, this time her eyes focus on me.
“Dream,” she croaks out as recognition settles on her features.
“Yeah, I got that. Let’s get your clothes off and get you some proper sleep.”
This time she doesn’t resist as I pull her shoes off. Her arms come up willingly when I pull her shirt up. When she’s left in nothing but panties, I pull back the covers and tuck her in. I strip in record time and slip under the covers with her, half expecting her to have dozed off already. Instead, her eyes are on me when I go to pull her in my arms.
“What happened to your chin?” she asks, reaching out to touch my face with gentle fingers.
“Your self-protective instincts,” I grin at her. “You kicked me.”
“No shit?” She leans in to examine my jaw a little closer. “That’s gonna leave a mark,” she says, and I catch the hint of pride in her voice.
In one move, I have her laying on my chest, one arm going up her back, my hand on her neck, and the other hand is splayed over her ass.
“Your brother’s gonna be at your apartment around nine.” Viv starts to object, but I cut her off with a shake of my head. “His man says he needs his independence, so they’re renting a car. That means you and I can sleep until eight.”
“But your work, don’t you start at eight?” Her brows are raised in question.
“Babe, your very gay brother is about to drop a giant bomb on an already explosive situation. Do you really think I’ll let you deal with that alone? I’ll take the day.”
Leaning down, she gives me her soft lips and a little smile. “Thank you,” she whispers before tucking her head against my shoulder.
It doesn’t take long for her breathing to deepen when sleep moves in. I listen to her breathe but can’t find sleep myself. My thoughts are very much keeping me awake. Thoughts that are mostly centered on Viv; how she puts up a great front on the outside, making it look like she’s dealing, but tonight’s episode makes it clear how deep the damage runs.
A faint band of light filters through the bedroom blinds by the time I finally find sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Viv
“I love it! This is so you.”
Kyle flitters around my apartment, touching every throw pillow, and admiring my colorful walls with the few prints I have up.
Ike and I barely made it here in time, because not five minutes later a bleary-eyed Dorian and a far too chipper Kyle were buzzing to be let up.
We’d been running late, because I woke up this morning with Ike’s prominent erection wedged between us. Surprised to find his eyes still closed and breathing deep with sleep, I couldn’t resist taking the time to admire his body. All of it. It felt illicit and deliciously wrong to lightly run my fingers over his skin, and follow them with my mouth, tasting every inch I explored. As I worked my way down his torso, I could hear his breathing change. By the time my tongue licked down the light trail of hair and reached the crown of his cock, his breath hitched and a low groan rumbled up from his chest. He didn’t move, not when I ran my tongue the hard length of him, and not when I reached my fingers to stroke the delicate skin behind his balls. It was when I slicked my lips around the head and slowly eased his cock deep into my mouth that his hands shot up and fisted my tresses on a deep moan. Already so turned on, I felt the wet heat spread between my legs. I let my tongue massage him as I moved my head up and down his shaft, until his hips almost involuntarily surged up off the mattress.
“Fuck, baby. So fucking good,” he started growling in a voice I could feel in my bones. “A dream; waking up with my cock deep inside you. Fucking perfect.”
I didn’t bother holding back the appreciative hum that bubbled up and vibrated against his skin. His sharp hiss was enough to tell me he felt it. I couldn’t resist glancing up. His heavy-lidded eyes were dark with heat and his mouth fell slightly open. A dark flush stained his cheeks, and his breathing had become ragged, as his cock became even thicker in my mouth. Empowered by the effect I was having on his body—on him—I took him as deep as I could and swallowed down on his tip, tugging on his balls as I did.
“Christ! Gonna come, baby.”
The warning wasn’t necessary, I’d already felt the tightening of his sac in my hand. So when he bucked in my mouth, and the hot streams of his release hit the back of my throat, I was ready to swallow every drop.
He didn’t need much time to recover. Before I knew it, I was hauled up and over him, and he was pulling me down on his mouth. By the time we came out of the shower, where he’d ended up lifting me against the wall and making me see stars again, it was eight-thirty. Thus ensued a frantic scramble for clothes and a mad dash to my place.
Sans coffee or breakfast, I’m not at my best, to put it mildly. Still, having both my brother and his man here fills me with enough happy feelings to be able to handle Kyle’s loud and abundant cheeriness.
“So how is he?” Dorian asks carefully.
“Had a quiet and uneventful night. They’re apparently still keeping him on mild sedation.” Seeing as I had placed a quick call to the hospital on our way here, I’m able to answer.
“Good. Did you sleep?” He wants to know, worry in his eyes. God, I love my brother. Here he rushes to fly a gazillion miles through the night to land knee-deep in some seriously messed up family dynamics, to which he is certain to add, and still he worries about me.
“I’m good, Dor,” I tell him as I snuggle up against him for a hug. “How are you doing?”
He huffs at that. “Million dollar question, Sissy. Don’t know whether I’m coming or going.” When I lean back to look up at him, he has his eyes fixed on Kyle, who is very animatedly talking to a mildly amused, but very tired-looking Ike. “He insisted on coming. Even when I said the timing’s not right, he still insisted. Had a pretty big fight about it, actually. He said he had already spent years waiting patiently for me to allow him to stand, not only at my back, but by my side as well. Said he was done waiting.”
I lift a hand to turn his dark face to me. “I’m sorry, Dor, but he’s right. Timing will never be perfect. You deserve to live your life unrestricted, and so does he,” I add, nodding in Kyle’s direction. “Besides, fami
ly is supposed to love and support you unconditionally. They’re supposed to be happy if you’re happy.”
Dorian drops his forehead to mine. “How can you say that? You, of all people?” he whispers. “After how we all treated you, how can you?”
“Hush. You and I, we already worked this out. No need to do it again. As for family; Nolan came to see me.” At the surprised look on his face when he pulls his head back, I fill him in on the latest, before shifting the focus back on him. “You’re his world.” I flick my eyes back at Kyle, who is now watching us closely. “And he deserves to be yours.” With a last squeeze, I let him go.
Ike already has his arms open when I reach him and I tuck my head in his neck. “I really need coffee,” I whine, making him chuckle. When I turn around, I watch my brother grab Kyle around the neck and lean his forehead against his, just like he’d just done with me, talking intently.
“Never really paid much attention before, so I don’t know how accurate my observations are when it comes to men, but those two really seem to love each other,” Ike rumbles behind me.
“Hmmm,” I hum, settling in his arms as I watch Dorian put his hands on Kyle’s face and pull him in for a kiss.
“Another first,” Ike mutters in my hair. “Now I really need coffee. And something to fucking eat.” I tilt my head back and smile at him.
“Nice, right?”
His eyes turn warm when he looks from them to me. “Yeah.” His mouth slides over mine, gently sucking on my bottom lip before letting it go. “Hungry.”
“All right, all right. We need food,” I call out to the guys, who are still pretty much lip-locked. “And coffee. STAT.”
-
We end up back at the same twenty-four hour diner, around the corner from the hospital, about twelve hours after we ate there before. A different waitress this time, though.
All of us order simple bacon and eggs, and more importantly—coffee. I actually moan out loud when I finally get my first hit of caffeine. Kyle snickers when beside me, Ike does the same.
“I’ll know just what to get you guys when you make it official,” he smiles, ignoring the admonishing elbow Dorian plants in his ribs and my shocked gasp. “Nespresso. Those machines are da bomb. Ask your brother, he got me one for my birthday.” Said brother is currently rolling his eyes heavenward.
