Page 51 of The Darkness Within

“You didn’t happen to get a picture, did you?”

“I wish.”

“How unfortunate,” he murmurs, dropping his voice to a whisper.

His warm brown eyes roam my face until they drop to my lips, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple sliding deliciously. Every part of my body is aware of him, except my cock that refuses to harden. It would be so easy to take his lips right now, to lean in one more inch and claim him. But then what? I have nothing to give this man. All that he’s given me, support, trust, empathy, and hope.

Most of all, hope.

But I’ve got nothing. When it comes to Brewer, I’m nothing but a parasite, a leech on his skin, sucking his resources dry. A black hole with no future. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips, making them shine in the sun, and despite my reservations and my common sense, I need. I want. I desire him like no other. It’s like a fever, igniting every neuron in my body until my blood sings his name.

Brewer. Brewer. “Brewer,” I whisper, allowing my lips to brush against his. And when he doesn’t pull away, I allow myself to sin once more. Just for the memory, to take with me to bed tonight, and every night that I sleep alone.

He pulls back slightly, just out of reach. “I believe in you. Don’t quit on yourself.”

I wonder if he’s really saying don’t quit on us. No matter how hard it is to imagine I have any shot at a future, let alone a future with Brewer, I can’t help but think it, especially after being teased with the taste of his mouth.

“Ican’t stop thinking about him.”

You and me both. “Can you tell me your concerns?”

“My son used to say Nash wasn’t close with his parents like me and Victor were. Who does he have now? Who is looking after that poor man?”

I am. “I assure you Nash is surrounded by supportive people. He’s learning how to ask for help.”

“If I could just call—”

“Violet, he isn’t ready. I promised you that when he is, I will arrange for you to meet with him, but not just yet. He still gets overwhelmed easily when he’s confronted with his past, and I don’t want to see him backslide when he’s making such great progress.”

Violet wrings her hands. I can see her worry. She wears it like a coat. “What if I make him some pastelitos? He can’t be eating well enough. You could pass them on for me.”

He has lost weight. Should I let her take on this burden? Would it benefit either of them, or just cause problems?

“Please, Brewer. He needs to eat. He needs food made with love, to reach not just his belly, but his heart.”

Damn, she’s good. I just hope this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “Okay, I’ll pass them on.”

Watching her face transform from burdened to pure joy takes ten years off her appearance. Even her shoulders have perked up.

Please don’t fuck this recovery thing up, Nash. She needs this as badly as you do.

“Let’s talk about you. Have you done any volunteering like we talked about? BALLS always has opportunities. You would be helping vets in need.”

“I’m not ready yet, but I do agree it sounds like a great idea. Just…not yet.”

“You’ll get there. How are your headaches? Are you taking the medication for depression?”

“Yes, Brewer. You don’t have to worry about me so much.”

Of course not, it’s only my job. “I don’t know how not to worry. It’s part of who I am. Everyone needs someone to look after them.”

Violet tilts her dark head, her concerned eyes boring through me. “And who looks after you?”

The short answer to that is God. The longer answer, well, that’s more complicated. I would love to have someone look after me. At least to have someone who cares. Someone who appreciates my fussing and caretaking ways. And the only name on that short list is just starting out on his long, long road to recovery. I’d be a fool to put my eggs in his basket.

“I won’t say no to your pastelitos.”

Even sponsors need to surrender.

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