Page 8 of Enslaved

Court made a helpless gesture. “Will it matter? He’ll just go somewhere else and owe someone else.”

“It’s better than doing nothing.” Heath looked kind and understanding.

It was more than Court could take. His shoulders fell. He pinched the spot between his eyes again. Court couldn’t think. He always felt so goddamn helpless. Heath’s arms engulfed him. The kindness came from left field at his lowest point. Court couldn’t pull away. He buried his face against Heath’s chest and breathed. They had been in the sun, playing golf all morning, and he still smelled delicious. It was oddly soothing.

“So, look. I know I’m the last person you want with you right now, but I’m here. Go put on something comfortable, and I’ll treat you to a relaxing day.”

Court hid his smile. He didn’t want Heath to know how his words eased the stress just by saying them. Court took a breath, rearranged his features into stoic, and took a step back. “Would you like to borrow something comfortable to wear?”

“I’m comfortable.” Court stared at him until he was honest. “I’d love to borrow something.”

With a nod, Court motioned toward the hall. “I’m sure I can find something.” Together, they headed inside Court’s bedroom. Court peeled off his shirt as he went and tossed it on the bed. He would throw it in the hamper later. With his back to Heath, Court dug through his dresser looking for shorts and a t-shirt for both of them. They were similar in size, so he wasn’t worried. The one thing Court owned in droves was clothes. He found two pairs of workout shorts and two plain t-shirts. When he turned, he found Heath watching him. His face was completely clear of emotion, but his eyes burned.

Court’s mouth went dry. He could not go back to the days of pleading with the universe for one shot. He passed the clothes Heath’s way. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He looked around, as if searching for a place to change.

Court laughed as he stripped and pulled on the fresh clothes. “If you’re shy, you can change in the bathroom.”

As if Court had issued him a challenge, Heath set the clothes on the bed next to him and stripped. Court wanted to look away. God knew he did. There wasn’t enough strength in the world. Inside, where no one could see, there was still a fat nobody who wanted this guy with the power of seven suns. There wasn’t a force in existence that could tear his gaze from Heath.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t bother getting dressed.”

Except for that. Heath, knowing Court wanted him, was enough to throw cold water on Court. He looked away. “The size of your ego is suffocating.”

Heath smirked but didn’t call bullshit.

Court tried to move on. “So, what do you want to do?”

For a moment, Heath simply stared at him, and Court knew exactly what he wanted to do. “Leave it to me. I’m an expert at relieving stress.”

Holy shit. The way Heath said the words weakened his knees. Court knew he was in trouble, and he didn’t know how to pull back. Before Court could think of a witty comeback, Heath gathered his clothes and patted the pockets of his pants until he found his phone. Having his attention elsewhere gave Court a second to breathe. They were sufficiently covered now, but Courtstill didn’t feel safe standing so close to a bed. He headed for the door, hoping Heath would take the hint and follow him to the living room. With his head down and typing on his phone, Heath followed. Court tried not to think about anything. It had been a day. His dad’s all too common outburst combined with spending the day with the guy who ruined his life should have had Court ready to break down. Instead, he practically held his breath, trying to anticipate what might happen next.

He sat on the couch, and Heath joined him. After a second, Heath’s gaze lifted from his phone. “Okay. Surprise will be here in thirty. You want to make out until then?”

Despite everything, a smile exploded across his face. Heath was irritatingly irresistible. “Fuck. I hate you.”

Heath’s smile never dimmed. “That’s okay. Hate fucking is supposedly a lot of fun.”

Court laughed. He held his side. “Stop. You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Heath turned so serious so fast, it killed the laughter in Court’s throat. They held each other’s stare. Heat bloomed between them. Court didn’t want it.

He stood. “Can I get you something to drink? Maybe a beer?”

“Sounds good.” Heath’s smile looked fake again. That hurt Court’s chest, but he still headed for the kitchen without looking back. For longer than he cared to admit, Court stood, holding open the refrigerator door while his mind drifted. He still felt thejolt of excitement mixed with terror as he had as that closet door had closed, leaving him alone with Heath. They hadn’t made a sound. They had both known everyone listened on the other side. He swore their breathing got louder and faster even though they weren’t touching. Then Heath’s mouth had found his.

Court blinked. His mind shied away from the rest. He had lost the ability to relive this dream, turning into a nightmare a long time ago. But that sickness in his gut, that never went away. He wished for amnesia. Not because he wanted a second shot with Heath. He wanted a second shot at life. One where he entered the world with rose-colored glasses and full of hope. Bitterness welled in his chest. Except Heath wasn’t the only bad memory. His father was just as guilty of ruining his life. Damn. He was tired. Court grabbed two beers and headed back to the living room. This was his life. He had no choice but to live it.

Throughout mani pedis coming to them and dinner and wine, all while cozy at home, Heath watched Court’s mood go on a rollercoaster ride. Just the fact that he kept trying to pull himself from the funk said more than Court realized. He was strong.

With a movie playing in the background, Court was fast asleep. Heath watched him. The light from the TV was the only light in the room. The shadows danced across his face. Only because he knew now, Heath saw hints of the boy in that closet. It was funny. All the guys who laughed with Heath about that night hadall disappeared from his life a long time ago. They were doctors or lawyers or no one at all. There wasn’t a single one he could call for help, even back then. Maybe even especially back then. But Heath had a strange feeling he could call Court. Heath shook his head. Court looked uncomfortable with his head at a weird angle. He would wake up unable to turn his head if he stayed like that.

Heath glanced around. There was a blanket folded nearby and a couple of throw pillows on a decorative chair. Heath grabbed them and made the couch into a cozy bed. He eased Court onto his side, urging him in his half-awake state to lie on his side and spread out. Before he could stop himself, Heath joined him. He had been drinking and couldn’t drive home. Heath knew he could call someone, but then his car would be here, and it would just be a pain. So, he covered them and snuggled in close. He was on the very edge of the couch, but he would keep Court from falling onto the floor.

It felt a little strange having Court in his arms. Heath tried not to breathe in his scent, but it was impossible. It didn’t surprise Heath that men paid exorbitant amounts of money to spend time with Court. He was honestly… nice. That seemed such a simplified description, but he was. Court was kind. He had all the reasons in the world to hate Heath. Yet he had been kind today, as if he fully intended to give Heath a second chance. Heath didn’t deserve it. He knew that. A good person would have walked away and given Court peace after learning they had ruined the guy’s life the way Heath had. Heath was a lot more insecure than people realized. He couldn’t stand being disliked. So much so, he wasn’t even sure who he was anymore because he spent so much time being what everyone else expected. Thingshad felt different today. His shoulders weren’t stiff. He had laughed for real. Heath couldn’t leave yet. He didn’t know why. He just couldn’t.

A loud buzz had Heath searching for the source. Court’s phone was on the coffee table, lit and moving. Heath grabbed it before it woke Court. He meant only to switch it to completely silent, but the texts spanning the face of his phone caught and held his attention. It was like a train wreck he couldn’t look away from. Text after text rolled in, swapping between his mom and his dad, berating him for selfishness and blaming him for what might happen to his father. Heath’s heart sank. He was exhausted by the snippets he caught. Heath couldn’t imagine how Court felt. Without a qualm, he switched it to silent and hid it beneath the couch before going back to cuddling Court. Maybe one day of a missing phone would give him some peace. It was just a small thing, but Heath could work on the rest.

---