“Use protection!” Gerard calls out helpfully from somewhere down the hall. “And remember, communication is key to a healthy relationship!”
Drew closes the door behind us and leans against it, that cocky grin still plastered on his face. “So, Jacky. Tell me—what brings you to the Hockey House at seven on a Saturday night? Miss me that much?”
I collapse into his desk chair, my legs still shaky from the visual assault of a naked Gerard. “Were you…” I gesture vaguely at his bed.
“What do you think?” His hazel eyes sparkle with mischief. “And would it bother you if I were?”
Yes, my brain screams.Because of the thought of you touching yourself, of your hand wrapped around your cock, of the faces you make when you come?“No,” I lie. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting the free show from Gerard.”
“Yeah, he’s been doing naked laps around the house all day. Something about letting his penis breathe.” Drew moves to sit on his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”
Right. The reason I came over.
“This is kind of embarrassing.” I stare at my hands, fiddle with my fingers, anything that keeps me from locking eyes with Drew. “But I need to get it off my chest before it eats me alive.” I take a deep breath.Here goes nothing.“I know I’m nothing like the guys you usually hook up with.”
Silence.
“They’re all…” I gesture helplessly. “Built like tanks. Rugby players with thighs thicker than pillars. Guys with shoulders wider than doorframes.”
Drew’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Jackson?—”
“And then there’s me.” The words pour out faster now, unstoppable. “Mr. Safe-Play Quarterback. I’m not aggressive, rough, or whatever it is you’re into. I’m plain vanilla in a world of rocky road. The kinkiest thing I’ve done is have sex in a minivan, whereas you’ve done it in the restroom at The Brew during rush hour.”If the rumors are true.“I keep thinking you’re going to realize you made a mistake picking me for this whole fake dating thing because I’m so far from your type it’s not even funny.”
“Stop.” Drew stands abruptly and moves to the window, resting his ass on the ledge. “Just…stop.”
I freeze. Shit. I’ve ruined everything. He’s going to tell me I’m right, that this was a mistake, that he wants nothing to do with me from this point on.
“My dad left when I was six. He packed up one day and walked out. I was the man of the house after that. Six years old, suddenly responsible for keeping Mom from falling apart and for making sure Patrick was fed and his diapers were changed. I had to pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t. You want to know why I hook up with guys who could break me in half without trying?”
I nod, too afraid to speak. He’s telling me something that I’m pretty sure he’s never told anyone else. The weight of that realization rests heavily on my shoulders.
“Because they’re everything my dad was supposed to be. Strong. Powerful. The kind of guys who could protect you, take care of you, keep you safe.” He laughs, but it isn’t pleasant. “I’m trying to fill a void, Jackson. I’m yearning for the strength and power I never had. The guys I fuck—they give me something I’ve been missing since I was six.”
My heart breaks a little. I want to go to him, but I’m frozen in the chair.
“That’s why I had such a pathetic crush on Coach Donovan freshman year.” Drew’s cheeks flush. “He was this commanding presence, you know? Made myself believe that if I could get him to want me, then maybe I’d finally be…I don’t know. Whole?”
“Drew.”
“And before you ask, no, I don’t have a daddy kink.” He says it defensively, like he’s had to clarify this before. “I just—fuck, this sounds pathetic. I need the kind of tough love that only a father can give.”
The room is suddenly too small. I stand up, needing to move, to process. “All those guys…”
“Were Band-Aids on a wound that never healed.” Drew slumps against the windowsill. “Pretty fucked up, right? Using sex to work through abandonment issues?”
“It’s not fucked up.” I move closer, stopping just out of reach. “It’s human.”
“Is it?” His hazel eyes search mine, for what, I do not know. “Because sometimes I think I’m broken, Jackson. Like there’s this piece missing that everyone else has, and no amount of meaningless hookups is going to fix it.”
“You’re not broken.” The words come out fiercely because I mean it with my whole heart. “You’re dealing. We all have our shit.”
“Yeah? What’s yours?”
Being desperately in love with my best friend, who’s only pretending to date me.“I collectStar Warsmemorabilia and organize it by release date.”
That startles a laugh out of him. “That’s not trauma—that’s just nerdy.”
“Says the guy who memorized every Wayne Gretzky stat known to man.”
