Page 8 of Seizing Control: Part Two

The smell of whiskey and beer is strong when Slash inelegantly faceplants on the mattress, then half-crawls, half-pulls himself toward us. Once he’s reached the top of the bed, the big man drops his head on my thighs, presses his face to my stomach, and loops an arm around my waist. His embrace is too tight, but I don’t protest because I know that he’s hurting, and he needs me.

“You smell like sex,” he grumbles. His breath is warm through my thin shirt when he sighs. “Fuckin’ bullshit... shoulda been me.”

My heart breaks at the pain in his voice. It kills me that I’m unable to make him understand that he did not fail his son. The blame rests on Jenna. Her actions. Her need to punish Slash for his refusal to choose her over the Shamrocks. Feeling like a shit friend since I’ve been too busy licking my own wounds to focus on the big man, I launch into Operation Console Carter Hudson.

“Slash.” Caught between my seething love and our drunk best friend, I nuzzle my head under Zeke’s chin to settle him, then I run my fingers through the big man’s long hair. His man bun is tangled and knotted, and in need of some serious care—the perfect metaphor for Slash’s current condition. “You’re not to blame for anything... and you definitely didn’t deserve to die instead.”

“Not what I meant,” Slash retorts. He hiccups, tensing the arm around me to the point of pain. I shift awkwardly, but he doesn’t let me go. Stroking his cheek, I frown when he whispers, “Don’t matter... I lost either way.”

“Go to sleep, brother.” With a growl, Zeke grabs the remote and turns on the television attached to the wall opposite us. “You can explain yourself tomorrow when you’re sober.”

Before my boyfriend settles in to watch one of his restoration shows, he passes me the e-reader I keep on the bedside table so I can read while I work my magic on Slash. I switched to ebooks when it became too much of a hassle to carry around paperbacks. Slash kindly gifted me two e-readers to me for Christmas so I can leave one in my car and one at the compound in addition to the one I keep at home. This way, I can continue my book, no matter where I am.

Slash’s thoughtfulness enflames my guilt.

I stroke the big man’s face as he fights his sleepiness.

“Close your eyes,” I tell him. “Sleep... we’ll look after you.”

“Promise?”

Tilting my head back to meet Zeke’s gaze, I find the same resolve that fills me in my man’s eyes. We won’t let anything bad happen to Slash. He’s our third piece. The voice of reason when we’re struggling. We owe it to him to look after him in his time of need.

I murmur, “Promise.”

“We’ll be right here when you wake up... hungover as fuck and feelin’ like arse.”

Slash’s chuckle at Zeke’s comment lightens any residual tension between them.

The big man falls asleep moments later. With my head on my man’s shoulder and my fingers in Slash’s hair, I read. Zeke watches TV. It’s just the three of us.

Like old times... better times.

Times I pray we’ll have again.

Sometime later, I wake to find myself sandwiched between two warm bodies. My man has put me and Slash to bed, tucked us in, then climbed in himself. Clad in Zeke’s t-shirt and my panties, I’m snug as a bug cocooned by their body heat and their solid presence. The big man has a fistful of cotton while Zeke has his arm around me and his leg thrown over mine, staking his claim even in his slumber.

I smile as I peer at them both.

The love of my life.

The man I trust implicitly.

My two handsome men.

A familiar sense of safety floods me.

I’m so lucky to have them both.

Even if they test my patience and drive me a little insane...

Impromptu sleepovers are something we used to do when I was younger, long before my relationship with Zeke, whenever one of us was struggling. Drama at the club, trouble at school, and everything in between. The two of them would decide to sleep over, sometimes with Toker, mostly without. It was a platonic friendship shared between the three of us that my lone wolf of a cousin would dip in and out of as it suited him.

Last year, while I was hospitalised, Slash and Zeke slept in plastic chairs next to me instead.

This year is different... for a multitude of reasons.

I’m in a relationship with Zeke.

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