Page 45 of Drifting Hearts
“There’s not a lot to tell, really. We were at the skate park the day after my birthday. I’d gotten the skateboard after months of nagging my mom for one. Shane was convinced that I could do anything. He’s always been this gung-ho, extra supportive cheerleader type guy. I’m sure he thought he was helping. I wasn’t comfortable on it yet, but he wanted me to go down one of the ramps. He harassed me all afternoon and I eventually gave in.”
Clay hissed in a breath like he knew what was coming.
“Well, I went down the ramp. Only, after about the first foot, the skateboard shot out from under me and went on without me, and I went down. Snapped my wrist. Shane cried all the way home like he was the one who broke his arm. On the bright side, he did all my chores until the cast came off.”
“He’s a good guy.” Clay mused, suddenly quieter. “I hope I can pay him back.”
“I don’t think he intended you to have to.”
“He’s never mentioned it, but…” Clay went silent, clearly unsure how to finish that thought. Or maybe he was afraid to. “But I want to. I’ve been talking a lot to my therapist about accountability, among other things.”
“We can talk to Shane if you want. He is a good guy. I’m sure he’ll be reasonable about the whole thing.”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” Clay yawned.
I should take him home. Back to Mom’s house. Back to where he wasn’t such a constant temptation. But I didn’t want to part with him yet. Not seeing him for a week didn’t mean I’d ignored him. It probably felt that way to him, but he was on my mind all day, every day.
I didn’t know what it meant for us or for the future. What it would mean tomorrow, but I asked him anyway.
“Stay the night?” I held my breath and waited for his answer.
“Yeah.” He sounded happy that I’d asked, and maybe also relieved.
Whatever it meant, we could tackle it tomorrow. Together.
Chapter 23
Clayton
Kieran’s bed was softand warm, and I never wanted to leave it. Or his arms. I’d been perfectly content to play the part of little spoon all night and I loved the way I fit against him as though I belonged there. Like he’d been forged and formed with me in mind.
I found out that morning that Kieran was a heavy sleeper. I managed to wiggle out of his embrace and use the bathroom. I emptied my bladder and used my finger to scrub some toothpaste over my teeth. It was imperfect, but it killed the dragon breath I’d woken up with.
In another life, I might have rummaged around in his medicine cabinet. Rifled through his drawers. Snooped through all his stuff for no reason other than younger me used to do shit like that to try and understand people better. Maybe it had been boredom that had me doing it because it only helped me understand that I was a shitty, snoopy person who needed to stop.
My life was full of strange compulsions that I’d picked up and held on to, only to abandon them later. Art was the one constant. The one thing that made me feel like I was worth something. Art remained with me through the gambling. And before that, the string of nearly constant hookups, along with every other temporary self-destructive compulsion before that.
I didn’t have art to lean on this time, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Burrowing closer to Kieran, I knew it wasbecause of him. And Patricia. Instead of using art as a crutch, I’d used people. I let them be there for me in ways that I’d never let Archer.
Patricia and Kieran met me at my lowest. They met a broken man with nothing left to lose. I never felt as though I had to impress them the way I felt I had to impress Archer. The way I’d needed to have his approval. Even when I had it, it never felt like it was enough. That was on me, not him. Archer had only ever done his best. He’d been the best friend I’d allowed him to be. And then I’d betrayed him.
No matter what Kieran said, I had to pay Shane back. Even if Shane himself didn’t agree, I was going to do it.
“You think too loud,” Kieran mumbled behind me, his deep voice extra sexy when he was still on the edge of sleep.
“You could always help me turn my brain off.” I wriggled my ass against his crotch. Until that very moment, I wasn’t particularly horny. I was more than happy to lie in bed and snuggle against him. But there was something immediately arousing about feeling Kieran's hard morning wood pressed against my ass.
His hand slid down my chest. He splayed his fingers over my stomach and huffed a quiet laugh when he hit my ticklish spot and I flinched.
“Sorry,” he said, sounding very not sorry at all.
I decided to forgive him when his hand snaked lower. Warm and smooth, Kieran cradled my cock in his hand then stroked it. A deep groaning sound tumbled out of my mouth as I shamelessly ground my ass against his cock. My desperation ratcheted up with every heartbeat. Every breath. Every tiny bit of friction had me panting and writhing, needy in a way I couldn’t describe.
“Shhh,” Kieran soothed. “I’ve got you.” Kieran’s touch left for a moment and he shifted around on the bed, only to return to where he was before, this time with a bottle of lube.
“Hold that for me.” He pressed it into my hand, then used the pump top to dispense some lube.
My dick practically begged for his touch, but it was his own that he slicked up first. Then, after he got more lube, he reached for mine. When Kieran took me in hand, and then rocked against me, sliding his cock between my cheeks, my brain nearly shorted out.
