And holy shit, his chest hurt. With the heel of his hand, he rubbed the spot just above his left pec - which was seriously going to bruise, because Peter wasnotbuilt for roughness anywhere but thebedroom.
Goddammit. He'd known this night would be shitty. He hadn't known he'd literally be attacked in his parents' living room. But sadly, this wasn't even the worst treatment he'd gotten from Jared's friends over theyears.
"Petey!" D'Andre Burke walked out of the kitchen carrying a red Solo cup, his grin as bright and infectious as when he'd been Brookville's All-State wide receiver. "You home on break? How's college going,bro?"
"Wait, no!That'sLi'l Petey?" Galen Pollett cried, rushing around D'Andre. His blue eyes were wide and couldn't seem to focus. "Dude, when'd you get so grownup?"
Peter blinked. A thousand responses flitted through his head - that he was twenty-five and hadn't been in school for years, that his name wasPeter,for the love of all that was holy in the universe, not Petey,neverPetey, but... fuckit.
"Gah!" He shook the fist still clutched around the athletic sock, pushed past them out of the living room, and ducked into the tiny bathroom under the stairs. He sank back against the closed door with a sigh and stuffed the sock in his coatpocket.
God, his hair was a mess.Hewas a mess. That asshole of a Cupid had torn a button off his brand-new gray wool coat, and now he was going to have to go back out there and look forit.
Or maybe he could just buy a newcoat.
And while he was at it, a new brother. One with decentfriends.
Hell, maybe a whole new identity. One that didn't cringe at the memories that surfaced every time he saw his brother's oldfriends.
His boss seemed to have some pretty powerful connections in the FBI these days, so maybe Drew could get that rolling if Peter askednicely...
Petersnorted.
Knowing Drew, he'd ask some pointed and pertinent questions that Peter had no desire to answer, like why Peter no longer had a boyfriend who'd be getting a new identity along with him. And since Drew had finally gotten together with the love of his life, Sebastian Seaver, and their off-the-charts sexual tension had morphed into constant PDA that required Peter to invest in noise-cancelling headphones for the office, it would have been more than a little embarrassing to admit that just as Drew was finally getting his happily-ever-after, Peter's own year-long relationship with Arthur had circled the drain for the lasttime.
Even worse, Drew would want to know exactly what memories Peter needed to escape. And the very idea of Drew - or anyone who knew him as competent, collected Peter Kelley - ever finding out what a love-sick schlub past-Peter had been was appalling. No one needed to know about the tween years he'd spent guzzling protein shakes and hoping he'd bulk up so he could play football like Jared; or all the times he'd kept quiet when Jared threw crazy parties, in exchange for being allowed to attend the parties himself; or all the years he'd lusted after Jared's football buddy from afar... and the one summer he'd actually believed that Logan Oliviera had maybe kinda sorta returned hisfeelings.
He unbuttoned his coat and slid it from his shoulders. He looked better in just his sweater and jeans, anyway. More put-together. Older, maybe. The kind of person who could conceivably read Jared the riot act and clear the house out, then leave in time to get on to another party... instead of home to his empty apartment, his pint of dulce de leche gelato, and Supernaturalreruns.
He splashed water over his face and pushed some through his hair, finger-combing the nightmareCupidhad left him into somethingrespectable.
"You are not a kid anymore," he told the face in the mirror. "You don't moon around after guys who treat you like crap. You take shit fromno one. These losers don't define you. Thepastdoesn't defineyou."
But he wasn't quite sure he believedit.
