Page 11 of Someone Like You

I pulled my eyes off his lips to find him watching me carefully. Then he slid his gaze back to the road and I didn’t miss the way he moved in his seat, didn’t miss the way the hand in his lap pressed hard against himself. It suddenly felt like it was boiling in here.

Fuck, he’d just told me something, hadn’t he? I wiped my sweating palms against the thighs of my jeans. Yes, he was dyslexic. Oh Jesus, he’d just shared something that probably hurt to share, and here I was gaping at his lips and sweating over how he’d rubbed his palm into his dick. Was he hard?

“Um,” I said. “That’s hard.” Oh god, I was speaking in double entendres now. “I mean, that must be really hard. For you.” What was wrong with me? I leaned my elbow on the window and let my head drop onto my hand. “I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this.”

Brody laughed, and some of the tension that was tightening in my chest dissipated. “Yeah, I can tell. It’s fine, I’m used to it.” I wasn’t sure if he meant getting shitty platitudes from assholes like me, or if he meant he was used to being dyslexic. “And there are a lot of tools out there now that help me read. I do most of my studying electronically or with audio files.”

“That’s good,” I said. And I realized that despite it being something extremely difficult, he was still going through with getting a bachelor’s degree. I chanced a peek at him again, reluctant admiration welling within me. “Your family must be proud of you.”

Brody’s small smile slowly fell away, and his jaw tightened. “Yeah. Most of them.”

I didn’t ask what he meant. I figured we’d done enough baring of our souls for one car ride. I don’t even know what had prompted me to ask him personal questions in the first place. I turned my attention back out the window and got lost in the blur of trees and houses as we drove along.

“Look, Isaac,” he said, dragging my attention away from the boring landscape. His fingers were drumming along the top of the wheel now, and he seemed anxious. I didn’t like that, and I didn’t like that I didn’t like that. I waited for him to continue, and after a few sighs and a lot of drumming, he said, “I didn’t know…I didn’t think—fuck. I’m really sorry, Isaac. You don’t know how sorry I am. I never wanted to…to make you feel like you weren’t…safe. Like I’d actually do something to—shit.” He scrubbed a hand roughly through his hair.

I wanted to tell him that hedidmake me feel safe. That no one had ever made me feel safer than he had. Except I wasn’t about to hand over that amount of power to someone like him. But his apology, and the sincerity I could hear behind his words, melted something inside of me. Settled it a bit.

I wasn’t gonna tell him that, though. And he kept talking. “I don’t know what your life has been like, and it was wrong of me to cross the lines you drew. I know better than anyone that life isn’t all sunshine and roses?—”

“It’s not a competition,” I said.

“I know that, I just?—”

“Why were you so mad? That day at the vending machine?” I was done being the center of attention. I was also really, really curious. Because—after having spent a little more time with Brody—I was beginning to understand that crazy angry and sexually aggressive weren’t his default modes. Something had set him off that day, and I desperately wanted to know what.

He shut up real quick. Now both hands were on the steering wheel, gripping it so hard his knuckles were white. A part of me felt bad for asking, especially because it was something he obviously didn’t want to talk about. Something bad. And I hated that my first instinct was to want to comfort him.

But…I did want to comfort him. I didn’t like that faraway look in his eyes. I didn’t like the tension that had draped over him like a shitty weighted blanket. I knew what it was like to have bad shit nipping at your heels. I wanted to see him smile again. Hear him laugh. And I was starting to realize that there was a lot more to Brody than met the eye. Than even a single interaction could contain.

Except I didn’t comfort people. I was shit at it. Just look at how I reacted when he admitted he was dyslexic, for fuck’s sake. I was not made to soothe and console. I was barely holding myself together, most times, so just the thought that I’d be able to give someone else any kind of solace was practically laughable. But the rigid set of his shoulders made me want to sink my fingers into them, to knead the tension out of him, to take some of the pain away. Pain that I’d put there with my question.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

His eyes snapped to mine, surprised. “For what? It was a valid question.”

“Oh look, it’s my house,” I said instead of answering him. When Brody pulled to a stop by the curb, I hesitated with my hand on the door release. Sucked in a breath. “Thanks for the ride. Let me know when my car is ready?”

He nodded, then dragged his lower lip between his teeth, and I mean, comeon, dude, why did he have to be so damn sexy about everything? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wasn’t sexy. I did not just think those words.

“Okay byeee!” I yelled, pushing the door open and jumping down from the truck. I stumbled and quickly righted myself—why were trucks so high off the ground?—and didn’t look back as I made my way up the front walk. Didn’t look back as I unlocked the door and shoved it closed behind me. I leaned against the door and stared at the ceiling.

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Isaac. I know I don’t believe in you, but on the off chance I’m wrong, I just wanted to ask…what thefuck, dude?”

“You’re probably not gonna get an answer from God, but I’m happy to give you one. It’ll be way juicier, too.”

I jumped off the door with an incredibly manly shriek and saw Jordan standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in his hand. Milk was dripping down his chin.

“Jordan, Jesus, don’t just sneak up on people like that.”

“I’ve literally been standing here the entire time.”

“Well don’t just stand places and eat cereal,” I snapped.

“What crawled up your ass?” he asked, slopping another spoonful of what looked like Lucky Charms into his mouth.

I sighed. “My stupid car needs sixteen hundred dollars in repairs.”

His jaw gaped open, and unfortunately there was still food in his mouth. “Holy shit, what are you gonna do?”

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