Page 10 of Bear the Burden

Wesley’s phone erupted again. The tune used to make him bop around, but now he despised it.

Leaning over, he grabbed his phone and turned off the ringer so it would only vibrate, and then he set it back down. “Can you take me to my car? I swear I’m okay to drive now.”

“Does your medication always effect you that way?” The pad of Hyett’s thumb circled Wesley’s ankle. If he kept doing that, Wesley would never get up. The guy’s hand felt too damn good.

“I took an extra by mistake.” Yet another lie, but what was he going to do? Tell Hyett he’d accidentally taken pain meds meant for his dad, which he’d bought from a goddamn drug dealer?

He patted Wesley’s calf. “I’ll take you to your car.”

If he didn’t have to deliver the pills to his dad, he wouldn’t have moved a muscle. It was hands-down the most comfortable couch he’d ever laid on. Not only was it plush and soft but it had wider cushions, giving it a more spacious feel. As huge as Hyett was, Wesley could see the benefit of extra leg room.

Groaning, he sat up, thankful the pills had worn off. He never wanted to feel that way again. He spotted his shoes sitting neatly together on the floor in front of the coffee table. Wesley put them on then stood and stretched, feeling so much better since he’d finally gotten some decent sleep for the first time in forever.

When he bent to swipe his phone off the coffee table, Wesley noticed his leg had begun to throb again.

Now that he thought about it, his pain had significantly eased at work when Hyett had rested his hand on Wesley’s shoulder.

Curious, he turned then pretended to stumble. Hyett caught him, and in a matter of seconds, the growing ache started to recede. How was that possible?

“Careful,” Hyett murmured, his hands on Wesley’s upper arms. “Are you sure you’re steady enough to drive, hon?”

“Yep. I just tripped over my own feet.” Wesley gave him a reassuring smile, though he was still totally baffled that a single touch could bring him so much relief.

Hyett flexed his fingers then dropped his hands and walked away. The ache started to throb softly right above Wesley’s knee and in his calf.

Still bewildered, he followed after Hyett. They strolled into an incredible kitchen with dark cabinetry, marble countertops, and probably the largest kitchen windows Wesley had ever seen. They let in the fading sun that bathed the room in a soft glow.

Fading sun?

“What time is it?” Wesley asked just as his phone started to vibrate in his back pocket. If he didn’t hurry up and deliver the pills to Jackson, his father was going to unleash a verbal assault on him that would leave Wesley even more scarred in the heart than he already was.

“A little after seven.”

Wesley stopped short at the sound of the deep voice to his left. He turned his head and saw a massive guy standing at the counter. The stranger was even larger than Hyett and Killian, who looked like an older version of the two. This had to be their father or maybe an uncle.

“Wesley, this is my dad, Quinton,” Hyett said. “Dad, this is Wesley.”

“Nice to meet you,” the guy said.

“Hi.” Wesley couldn’t stop marveling at just how large Quinton was. Midnight Falls had an abundance of tall, muscular men, but Hyett’s father was even more colossal than Sheriff Harper. “How tall are you?” Wesley grimaced. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

But Quinton didn’t seem to take offense. In fact, he was smiling. “A whopping six-eight.”

Holy fuck. How on earth could the guy breathe at such a high altitude? Clouds should have been drifting by his head.

“And you?” Quinton asked, but Wesley had a feeling he was just being polite in returning the question.

“A gigantic five-eight,” Wesley replied teasingly. He turned to Hyett, who was watching him with amusement, something close to pride shining in his smoky eyes. “How about you?”

Hyett’s muscles flexed, like he was preening for Wesley. Even though nothing would ever happen between them, Wesley liked how the man flirted with him. It made him feel desirable. “A measly six-six.”

Wesley snorted. There wasn’t anything measly about his height. There probably wasn’t anything measly about his cock either. Unfortunately, Wesley would never find out.

“How are you feeling?” Quinton folded his bulky arms over his broad chest. Wesley felt sorry for anyone on the receiving end of the guy’s beefy fists.

“Much better. Thank you for asking,” Wesley replied, his mind still stuck on Hyett’s cock size, though he briefly wondered if Quinton knew why he’d been asleep on their couch.

Then his thoughts went right back to Hyett’s groin. Only now, Wesley was trying to picture the man naked with a hard, fat erection between his legs.

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