Page 36 of Finding Delaware

“You motherfucker.” Shoving him in the chest, an exhale of relief makes me weak. “I thought I scrambled your brains or some shit.”

“You deserve it for nearly drowning me, bitch.” His shoulders shake with chuckles as he wipes the corners of his eyes.

Christ.

Falling backwards onto the bed, I cover my face. Honestly, last night could have been bad. Fuck’s sake. Next time I try drowning him, remind me to do it when we’re near the vicinity of a bed and not in a fucking high school.

“Hey.” He leans over me, pulling my arms from my face, and I can’t stand the way my chest aches at the warmth in his eyes. “How did we get home?”

“Um…I drove you.”

He blinks. “In my car?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you even have a license?”

I grin sheepishly up at him. “Nope.”

“Fuuuck.” Huck hangs his head, curls falling into his eyes. “I don’t even remember leaving the pool.”

“Yeah, about that.” I bite my lip with a wince. “Don’t be surprised later when your dad gives you a lecture about the dangers of taking pain pills while swimming.”

His eyes snap up to mine, shoulders tensing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You were super out of it, man. I had to come up with something.”

He opens his mouth, dark eyes flashing in what I’m sure is anger before they zero in on something near my neck. His fingers pull down the collar of my shirt.

“Who the hell did this?” he demands, brushing a knuckle along my collarbone. I already know he’s seeing the bruises my dad left when he held me in place on Thanksgiving, drunkenly screaming in my face for burning the food he’d forced me to make. With everything happening, Huck must have missed them last night in the pool.

Clearing my throat, I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. “Matty. The other day, he was excited about something and grabbed me a little too hard. No big deal.”

The lie burns, but it flows off my tongue so smoothly. I’ve perfected this art over the years, though Huckslee is usually the one I’m blaming.

His nostrils flare as he looks at the bruises, pupils dilating in what I can only describe as pure rage. His jaw ticks at thecorners, and for some reason, it looks like he’s really fucking bothered by it.

“Hey,” I reach up, pressing my thumb into the crease between his brows, “it’s fine. It was an accident. Matt’s a big doofus who doesn’t know his own strength.”

It’s honestly the truth. As a kid, he got so excited about holding a baby duck that he accidentally squished it. His sister made me promise never to tell.

Huck is quiet for a moment before he leans down, closing the distance between us as he touches his lips to my collarbone and fuck. My barely deflated cock swells to life.

“I don’t like seeing someone else’s marks on you,” he whispers into my skin, pressing soft kisses over my bruises like I’m some precious thing that requires care. It’s something I’m used to getting from a girl, but from a guy? From Huck? The way he’s trailing his hands down my chest, worshiping my throat with his tongue...it’s completely different. Foreign. Uncharted territory.

My shirt lifts as his fingers push beneath it, running over my abs, and I squirm, breathing out a laugh. He raises his head to peek at me curiously.

“Ticklish.” I bite my lip, and he gives me the brightest smile. It’s so different from the strained, fake one I’m accustomed to seeing, lighting up his entire face. I’m slightly mesmerized when he kisses his way down my sternum.

“You didn’t get to come last night.” His teeth sink gently into my hip, forcing a groan out of me. My pulse quickens when his hand palms my cock outside my pants, rubbing firmly, deliberately, with slow strokes that I chase on a thrust. The tip of his tongue flicks out to lick the skin on my lowerabdomen, and I almost come right there, swear to fucking God.

It’s when his fingers tease the waistband of my sweats, though, that everything shifts. He tugs slightly, attempting to pull them down to release my cock, and immediately I clam up.

My father’s voice roars through my head, every hateful word cracking my skull like a thunderclap. All of his threats shove to the surface, the fear of getting beaten to death and my bike taken away tangibly potent. His murderous face flashes in my mind’s eye, gripping my arms when he threw me from the front porch at twelve, and I can’t.

I can’t.

“Wait, Huck.” I grab both of his hands, halting his movements. “Stop. Stop”

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