by Andria Large
Tears well up and spill over, sliding down my temples and into my hair. The tears aren’t for my dad, but for everything I’ve lost. Everything I never had. I mourn the childhood that never happened and what it could have been like if I’d had different parents. Of course, all those things made me the man I am today, but I still wonder.
I end up falling into a fitful sleep. I’m plagued by continuous nightmares of my father chasing me around the house, of him trying to get to Lizette, and of my mother doing nothing to stop him.
I’m startled awake. I glance around wildly, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. I realize Tucker is next to me, his hand on my shoulder, my hand wrapped tightly around his wrist.
“Hey. Hey, it’s just me,” he soothes.
I blow out a breath and let go of his wrist. I shove the heels of my palms into my eyes.
“You were yelling,” he says quietly.
I drop my hands and look over at him. He’s in nothing but his underwear. I gaze past him to the clock on the nightstand—3:36 a.m.
“Sorry if I woke you,” I mutter.
Tucker shakes his head and smooths his hand up and down my arm. “I haven’t been sleeping great, so I was kind of awake already.”
Dammit, why does that make my heart hurt?
“What were you dreaming about?” he asks, still rubbing my arm.
It feels so good to have him touch me again, and it’s helping calm my nerves.
“My dad.” I sigh.
He nods solemnly.
Tucker gives my arm a squeeze before making the move to leave. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
I grab his wrist before he can get off the bed. “Wait.”
He looks over his shoulder at me. I can tell he’s trying not to get his hopes up. His eyes search mine. “Yeah?”
“Stay?” I ask softly.
It may be a stupid idea, but I need him. I need to feel him against me. I want my best friend back. I want the guy who would cuddle and soothe me whenever I had a nightmare. I fucking need that guy.
Tucker swallows hard and nods. “Of course,” he whispers.
I lie back down as Tucker gets under the covers. I turn my back to him, knowing he will wrap himself around me, which he does. His front presses firmly against my back so we’re spooning. His arm comes around my ribs, where he plants his hand on my chest over my heart. I’m still in my clothes, but it feels so good to have his body against mine.
Tucker tenderly kisses the back of my neck. “I’ve missed this.”
I put my hand over his and lace our fingers together over my heart. “Me too.”
Chapter Thirty
TUCKER
I WAKE up the next morning, my body intertwined with Dennis’s. I can tell he’s still asleep because he’s breathing deeply and snoring lightly. I soak it in because I don’t know how he’s going to feel about me being here when he wakes up. I’m expecting him to pull back and put some distance between us. I know he still doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to pick up and leave at any moment, or not come home from work one day. I’ve caught him every now and then watching me over the past few days, suspicion in his eyes.
I’m in my underwear, but Dennis is still in his clothes from yesterday. After he closed himself away to call Lizette about their dad, he never returned, and I’m assuming he fell asleep without getting undressed. He even still has his prosthetic on.
He’s sleeping on his back, and I’m half covering him with my body. I have my head on his shoulder, and his arm is around me. My legs are tangled with his. I slept better for the few hours I spent with Dennis than I have all week. I inhale deeply, breathing in his scent. Damn, I love the way he smells.
Knowing I might wake him but desperately needing to feel his body again, I slip my hand up under the hem of his T-shirt. I run it up his abs to his chest before moving back down over his flat stomach. Dennis pulls in a deep breath as he shifts slightly under me. He turns his head toward mine and kisses my forehead.
“I gotta pee,” he grumbles before extracting himself from me.
He clambers to his feet and shuffles out of the room. I sigh and roll onto my back. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I mourn the loss of his body against mine. Who knows when he’ll let me get close to him again.
Dennis returns to the bedroom a couple of minutes later. He stops at the end of the bed and shoves his hands onto his hips, his expression thoughtful.
“I have a problem,” he says.
I frown. “Okay?”
“I don’t have a car anymore, and I have work this afternoon. How the hell am I supposed to get there?”
A slow grin curls my lips. Dennis frowns and hangs his head.
“Goddammit.” He sighs.
“Looks like you’re gonna have to ride bitch.” I snicker.
“I’m gonna call Duke. See if he can drive me,” he grunts.
“I’m pretty sure Duke is busy tonight. He’s going to a party or something.”
“Fuck!” Dennis bites out and rakes a hand through his hair. “I really need to get another car.”
“You could ask Lizette?” I offer, knowing he’s not going to bother his nine-months-pregnant sister for a ride.
“No, definitely not. And I remember Lizzie telling me that Renegade is away for the weekend,” he grunts.
“Train? Bus? Taxi?”
“No. The train and bus are definitely out. Too many people in such small spaces will give me a fucking panic attack. A taxi is too expensive, and I’m short on cash as it is. And don’t even think about trying to give me money, ’cause I won’t take it.”
“Then bitch it is.” I chuckle.
“I hate your bike right now,” he grumbles miserably.
I laugh. “Sorry?”
“You’re not sorry,” he says with a sneer.
“No, you’re right, I’m not. I can’t wait to get you on the back of my bike,” I admit with a grin.
He gives me a dirty look before walking back toward the door. “I’m going to take a shower.”
I can’t stop my smile as he walks out of the bedroom. I love that I’m finally going to get him on the back of my bike. His body will be wrapped around me. I groan and run the heel of my palm down my sudden hard-on. I’ve dreamed of Dennis on the back of my bike ever since we got together, and it’s finally going to happen, even if it is against his will.
DENNIS
I’M IN a foul mood by the time I have to climb onto the back of Tucker’s death trap. I’m going out tomorrow and getting a car. I will not be riding this thing tomorrow, that’s for damn sure. Luckily Tucker has an extra helmet. He also lets me borrow a pair of his leather pants and an extra jacket, because it’s fucking cold as shit out and a motorcycle isn’t exactly the warmest way to travel. I shove a pair of jeans into my backpack. I’m wearing my black T-shirt that says SECURITY on the back in white. The day I was hired, my boss tossed me the T-shirt and said, “Here’s your uniform, kid.” It is really the only requirement that he asks of me. I can wear my hair however I like, have facial hair if I want to, wear any type of pants, whatever; Jim doesn’t care as long as I have the shirt on.
I grumble to myself as I pull the helmet on while Tucker starts the bike. He already has his helmet on with the visor flipped up. Once the bike rumbles to life, Tucker turns to give me that damn shit-eating grin again. It has been on his face all damn day.
“Hop on,” he calls over the purr of the engine.
I give him my best death glare before climbing onto the back of the bike. I have no choice but to plaster myself against his back and wrap my arms around his waist. My seat is barely big enough to fit a small woman’s ass, let alone a man’s ass. My heart flutters up into my throat. I hate this. I hate having to ride this fucking thing, twice no less. Tucker will have to come and pick me up from work too.
Tucker, being the dick that he is, burns rubber as he flies out of the parking garage of our building. I’m pretty sure a girly scream escapes my l
ips. Tucker, the cocksucker, is cackling evilly. If I wasn’t so terrified to let go of him, I’d fucking punch him in the side of the head.
Oh, Duke will be hearing about this shit. This is entirely his fault. He had to go and make new friends and get invited to parties. Like I said, foul mood.
Tucker pulls up out front of the pub and kills the engine. I clamber off as fast as I can. I yank my helmet off and spike it on the pavement like a football as I stomp toward the bar.
“Hey! Aren’t you even going to say good-bye?” Tucker yells after me. I can hear the laughter in his voice. Asshole.
I flip him the finger over my shoulder as I open the door to the pub. He laughs as the door closes behind me. Glad one of us finds this funny, because I sure as hell don’t.
“Dennis! Good to have you back, man!” Jim booms as he comes out from behind the bar.
He gives me a hug, then steps back to look over my outfit in confusion. “What’s with the leather?”
“Tucker had to give me a ride on his bike,” I reply with a sneer.
Jim rolls his lips in to stop from laughing. He knows how much I hate Tucker’s bike. He gives me a nod. “Okay, well, go get changed so you can get back to work.”
“On it,” I reply and start for the break room.
Britney, the bartender, stops me on my way to lean over the bar and give me a kiss on the cheek.
“Welcome back, Dennis,” she says sweetly.
“Thanks,” I say with a small smile.
After I get changed and stash my bag behind the bar, I take my post at the door, checking IDs.
IT’S A pretty uneventful night. I only had to throw one person out. Everyone is mostly gone now with only fifteen minutes until closing, so I help Britney clean up. I’m freaking tired. It’s been over a month since I actually worked or was on my feet for any decent length of time, and I just did a double. I place a tray of glasses on the bar as the door opens and Tucker walks in.
Damn him for looking so fucking sexy in his leather pants and jacket. His dark hair is a ruffled mess. His jaw is sporting a shadow of scruff, and his light blue eyes immediately find mine. He gives me a crooked smile and a nod. He has one helmet tucked under his arm while he holds the other in his gloved hand.
“Hey, Tucker, good to see you.” Britney smiles as she washes glasses.
“Hey, Britney,” he replies, waving a helmet at her.
“I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes,” I mutter.
“Okay, whenever,” he says and straddles one of the barstools at the end of the bar, then sets both helmets on the floor at his feet.
Britney starts up a conversation with Tucker. I half listen as I go around wiping down tables and shooing a couple of stragglers out of the pub. Tucker barks out a laugh, and I can’t help but glance over my shoulder at him. My heart hurts at the sight of him laughing. Even though I’ve made small steps toward letting him back in, I’m still struggling with it. Every touch or smirk or loving glance in my direction has so many emotions bubbling up that I can barely handle them all. It’s killing me having him so close yet so far away. But I will not let him hurt me again.
After I finish cleaning up, I grab my backpack and make my way into the break room to get changed. I put on the leather pants and jacket, then shove my jeans back into my bag and sling it onto my back.
I walk out into the bar and stop next to Tucker. Britney lets out a low whistle.
“Damn, you two are seriously hot in all that leather.”
Tucker grins as he slips off the barstool. “Thanks, Brit,” he says, sending her a wink. He hands me one of the helmets. “Ready, babe?”
I give him a bored look. “Can’t wait,” I reply dryly.
He chuckles. “Right. Good night, Britney,” he says and turns to leave.
I say my good-byes to her before stopping into Jim’s office to let him know I’m leaving. I go outside and frown when I see Tucker leaning against the hood of a brand-new black Dodge Charger with white racing stripes on the hood. I glance up and down the street but don’t see his bike anywhere.
“Where’s your bike?” I ask as I stop in front of him.
Tucker shrugs. “Home.”
“Sooo, how are we getting there? And I don’t think whoever’s car that is, is going to be happy about you leaning against it like that,” I say, pointing to where his ass is settled on the hood.
“I don’t think the owners will mind.” He grins like he knows something I don’t.
“Do you know the owner or something?” I huff in irritation at him being cryptic.
“Owners.”
“What-the-fuck-ever, just tell me who the damn thing belongs to,” I snap.
“Us,” he replies with a nonchalant shrug.
I blink stupidly at him. “What?”
Tucker tosses me a key fob. I catch it and stare down at it for a moment before lifting my head to look at him.
“I don’t understand.” Frowning hard, I glance at the car, then back at him.
Tucker rolls his eyes. “I know you hated riding on my bike, and I didn’t want to put you through that again tonight, so while you were working, I went out and leased us a car,” he explains.
“Us?”
“Yeah, I figure we can share it. You just have to go with me tomorrow to sign some papers to finalize everything, but I got a pretty good deal since one of the guys I work with has a cousin who owns a dealership.”
I glance at the car, then the key fob, then back at Tucker. He gives me a hopeful, somewhat hesitant smile.
“If you’re trying to buy shit for me and think I’m going—” I start, a bit nastier than I meant to be, but I can’t stop myself from blurting out what first came to my mind when Tucker said the car was ours.
“Really, Dennis?” he barks, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth a thin, angry line. “You need a car, so I went and got a car you will be paying half of because I can’t afford it on my own. And I’m not trying to buy you back, asshole. I was just trying to be nice and be a good boyfriend. I would have done this even if we were on good terms.”
Tucker grits his teeth, biting back anything more he has to say as he pushes away from the car.
“Do you want to drive?” he asks tightly.
“Yeah, sure,” I murmur, feeling like shit, but hell, what am I supposed to think?
TUCKER
THE RIDE back to the condo is silent. I stare out my window, trying to push down the pain Dennis’s words caused. I can’t believe he thinks I got the car to buy back his affection. Dammit. That fucking stung so badly. I thought we were making some progress, but then he goes and says that. I feel like we just took two steps back.
After parking the car and taking the elevator up to our floor, Dennis and I walk into the condo. I drop my helmet next to the door and shuck off my jacket, which I hang on the wall coat rack, before moving into the living room. Dennis does the same, but he goes into the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of water from the fridge. After drinking half of it, he comes into the living room and sits down next to me on the couch. Not right up against me like he used to, which fucking rubs me raw.
“Thank you for the car. I do appreciate it,” he says softly.
I nod. “No problem.”
Dennis sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “This hasn’t been easy for me, Tuck. I’m questioning everything you do. I’m afraid to let you back in. I’m afraid you’re going to leave again and completely destroy me.”
I glance over at him, expecting him not to be looking at me, but he is. His eyes are pleading for understanding. They are also swirling with longing and need.
“It’s only been a week since I’ve been back, Dennis. I know this is going to take time. I know I need to prove myself to you. No matter how many times I say I’m never leaving you again, it doesn’t mean anything because they’re just words. I’m not going to lie. It fucking hurts that you don’t trust me, but I only have myself to blame for that.”
“I want us to get back to
the way we were so badly,” Dennis croaks as his eyes well up with unshed tears.
“So do I. I can’t say I’m sorry enough, Dennis.” I frown. I hate seeing him so upset.
He nods silently, averting his eyes to look down at the water bottle in his hands. I itch to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him, but I can’t. He’s too vulnerable right now, and if I touch him, he’ll probably give in and then hate himself—and me—in the morning.
“I’m going to bed,” he whispers.
He stands and I act before I can think about it. I grab his hand. Dennis looks down at me and waits.
“I love you,” I tell him.
He nods, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I love you too.”
With that, he leaves the living room and makes his way to the end of the hall, where he’s been staying in his old bedroom, and closes himself in. I drop my head to the back of the couch and groan. I fucking hate this. I never wanted this for us, but I fucked up and there is no way to fix it. It’s just going to take time.
I get up and turn out the lights, check to make sure the door is locked, then go to my room. I strip in the dark, just leaving my underwear on, then climb into bed. I heave out a sigh as I try to find a comfortable position. I end up on my back, one arm slung over my head. Thoughts of Dennis keep me from falling right to sleep. Dennis naked. Dennis’s lips wrapped around my cock. Goddammit. It’s been over two weeks since we’ve done anything and I freaking miss it. I miss him.
The hard-on I now have is also keeping me from falling asleep. The only way I can is to get rid of the boner. I let my hand snake down my body and slip under the waistband of my boxer briefs. I encircle my throbbing shaft and give it a lazy tug. I imagine Dennis’s tongue running up the underside of my cock before sucking the head into his mouth. I move my hand down and give my balls a pull before giving my cock another stroke.