Page 49 of From Best To Bested

His body was the wave, and his skin rippled in every direction, giving him the most euphoric sensation.

“Now you know why I’m always such a chipper person.” Jake kissed Roman again, the taste chalky and a little fruity, too.

Roman laughed, lost on himself more than anything else at this point.

“I’d love to keep this party going,” Jake said, running his hand through Roman’s hair. “But it’s gonna be lights out soon.”

“I have a bit of finesse,” Ezra said.

“Oh, yeah?” Jake perked up, smiling at Roman, who smiled back. He was lost in Jake’s eyes, like he was a reflection of himself. “You up for a little partying?”

“Huh?” Roman leaned into the head scratches, finding they reached his brain. Jake’s touch made the room pop with colors Roman had forgotten about in this bland prison.

“Maybe bring a few friends.” Jake looked at Ezra expectingly.

“You know the kind of clout it takes to swing an after-hours cell party?”

“We’ll be super quiet.” Jake pressed a finger to Roman’s lips, shushing him.

Roman playfully shushed himself, uncertain what was happening.

“Fuck it.” Ezra shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Roman turned his attention to Ezra, who seemed levelheaded at this point. It eased the tension in the back of Roman’s mind, whispers of worries he didn’t need to concern himself with. Those concerns died out quickly when the next wave of his high hit. This feeling was fantastic but fleeting. He’d be steady in a few minutes. He’d be as calm as Ezra looked.

“What do you think?” Ezra asked. “It’s your choice.”

That was a comforting reminder. Roman never had to worry, to truly worry with Ezra. He always had a choice in things; even if he’d finally accepted his gilded cage, it was always left open for him to fly away whenever he wanted.

“Flapping your wings?” Jake asked, noting the sway of Roman’s hands. “If you wanna fly, all you gotta do is say pretty, pretty please.”

Everything faded away, and Roman didn’t want to surrender the high just yet. For the first time in years, he felt free, truly free, lost in a fuzzy world of possibility.

“I’m up for whatever.” Roman smiled at Ezra before collapsing back onto the bed.

“That was the plan, sweetness.” Jake continued running his hands through Roman’s hair, whispering sweet nothings he couldn’t follow, but Roman laughed when Jake laughed, and he smiled when Jake smiled, and he kissed Jake back when chalk hit his lips, and even when the kiss was just a kiss. It was a surprise Roman hadn’t expected.

Chapter Seventeen

Rustling in the room startled Roman awake. His entire body ached. His head felt like he’d been hit with a hammer several times over. The light stung his eyes when Ezra moved from serving as a buffer shadow rifling at the desk to crossing over to the doorframe.

“You heading to breakfast?” Roman’s throat still throbbed from last night. “I’ll join you.”

He performed for hours, he serviced, and remembered… He remembered more than he realized as he squeezed his head in a futile effort to fight off the pulsing pain.

Ezra stared with a raised brow, questioning Roman, confused by something Roman had done. He couldn’t quite place it yet.

“You already missed lunch,” he said, edge in his voice. “Just sleep away the day, I don’t give a fuck.”

Roman stared, completely dumbfounded. How had he lost so much time?

After Ezra left, Roman lay in bed, trying to piece together last night. He knew what had happened. He recalled so much with ease but desperately held down the memories beneath the floorboards of his mind. He needed pieces, bits at a time, not the eruption of ecstasy turned sour. Mostly, Roman wanted to see if he’d missed something with Ezra’s mood.

“Swallow,” Jake had said. He’d said it a lot and for a lot of different reasons.

Ezra hadn’t looked mad, not like he did now. Not like he did when storming out of the room, leaving Roman alone, so Roman tried to figure out if he’d done something to upset Ezra. His mouth was so dry now that his tongue ran along the inside of his cheeks with a scaly texture. Not a drop of moisture left.

“Oh, he likes it,” Jake had whispered. “Don’t you, you fucker?”

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