I end up sandwiched in between them in a big group hug of epic uncomfortableness, and while I’m ecstatic, I’m also nervous. This is a big deal for both of them and me, and I can’t help but worry.
After grabbing all of Dad's stuff and moving him in, I head over to the supermarket for my shift. I explain the situation to the manager, and they say they’ll have to let me go, and when I come back, I will have to reapply. I work my shift anyway, then head home feeling happy but dejected at the same time.
Arch
Chapter 22
After the awards dinner, I head home. Mother and Father are nowhere to be seen. The staff say they’re on vacation. Maldives or some shit place that costs a bomb. Mother will be drunk most of the time, while Father is fucking anything that looks in his direction. They won’t even be back before I leave.
I storm to my room, and as I stand there, I can’t help but lose it. I snatch one of the drawers out and throw the whole thing across the room. It hits the full-length mirror, smashing it. I sigh, picking up one of my trophies. I launch that, too, and it buries itself in the wall.
I rip out another draw and throw that and then another. I kick at the drawer unit again and again till it starts to lean over. Giving it another kick, the wood splits, and it crashes to the ground. I jump back but grin, heading into the walk-in. I grab all the clothes and drag them onto the bed. Anything I want to take, I pile on my chair. For everything else, I take the scissors from my desk and start cutting and ripping at the fabric.
I yell and scream, and no one cares. No one comes. I’m all alone, so I do the only thing I know how to do. I rage. I rage, and I destroy. I pick up the lamp from my desk and throw it hard. When it reaches the end of the table, it twangs back at me, and I have to duck outof its way. It smashes against the wall. I take out all the drawers and throw them around the room. I rip my pillows open and throw the feathers around the room, laughing and bouncing on the bed while I go.
I rip the blinds and the curtains down and throw them on the floor. When I flop back on the bed panting, I sigh, and that’s when the tears start. I curl in on myself, lying on the bed in the fetal position, and I cry. Well, I sob, and when I don’t think I can cry anymore, I manage it. But I’m still all alone, and still, no one cares, and again, no one comes.
I wake up, and it’s dark out. I check my clock, and I’ve slept the whole day away. It’s the next night, I’m still in my suit. I feel exhausted and wrung out, and I realise I’m still alone. If I walked out of here now, they wouldn’t even know I wasn’t here, and that feeling of desertion crucifies me. I know I’m a grown man, but right now, I feel like a scared, lost kid who no one gives a shit about.
I call one of the staff down the hall and they bring me a suitcase. I pack everything and head to a hotel. I don’t want to be here. I don’t see the point. They’ve let me down enough, and after the weekend, I will be away and battling to become part of the team. I so long to have a family, friends, and a life that’s my own, not one my father has carved out for me. Maybe this is my chance, my time for a fresh start, to try and become the man I want to be—whoever the hell that is.
Ryder
Chapter 23
The six of us gather in the hotel lobby near the team headquarters and training track. John gives us all the details of the mandatory meetings, food, and events while we’re here. I eye Arch across the room, but he’s staring at the wall. I’m not even sure if he’s paying attention until they tell us we will be sharing a room. He and I are paired together. Fucking great, that’s all I need, but I smile and nod at John, letting him know I’m fine with it even though I’m far from it.
As we’re dismissed with our keys, Arch steps forward to talk to John, and I hear him ask if he can just pay to have his own room. I walk away as I hear John laugh, and I shake my head. This is all about team-building, and it’s not really ‘team-building’ if you want your own room, so I make my way up in the lift to check the room out and get the better bed.
Pushing the door open, the room is small, housing two queen-sized beds. At the foot of them are two sets of drawers with a desk in the middle and a TV mounted to the wall. There’s a fridge under the desk and a kettle and toaster on top of it. There’s a small bathroom with a shower over the bath, with two sinks and a toilet. It’s gonna be a tight fit, but we will just have to make it work. There’s a small balcony, and I choose the bed next to it,tossing my bag on it and starting to unpack. I’m assuming Arch has got his own way when he doesn’t follow me in, but an hour later, he shoves through the door. I’m just stepping out of the shower when he does.
“Put some fucking clothes on,” he snaps, and I grin. Looks like Archi-fucking-bald is back, and Arch 2.0 has fucked right off.
I have a towel slung low on my waist, and I’m scrubbing another into my hair.
“As you wish!” I grin. I walk past him, drop the towels on the floor at the foot of my bed, and bend over to grab some boxers out of the drawer.
“Seriously? You’re an absolute heathen,” he spits at me.
I stalk towards him, still naked, with my boxers in my hand, leaning over him. I smile down at him, and his breathing starts to get more rapid as his eyes widen. His gaze flicks to my dick and back again before he gulps.
“Gonna have to get used to it, Arch.” I reach up and tap his cheek. “It’s a very small room.” Glancing down at my dick and back up at him, and I wink. “And I’m a very big guy.”
I step back, and he lets out a breath before turning and practically running into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and clicking the lock.
I let out a roar of laughter as I pull on my boxers, grab the towels, and slide out onto the balcony to hang them to dry.
Arch
Chapter 24
I slam the door shut and lock it, sliding down to the floor and trying to rein in my racing heart and pounding chest, the lump in my throat and the cold sweat I’ve broken out into. I try to breathe through it and relax, but I’m not sure I can handle being this close to him, especially not if he’s going to be walking around half-naked all the time. I try to calm myself again before standing and heading to the sink. I splash some water on my face, but it doesn’t really help. I didn’t bring anything with me to have a shower. It’s all in the suitcase where I left it. So now I’m stuck in here and don’t know what to do.
Ryder’s stuff is neatly laid out, and I could use that, but then I’d smell like him, and I think that would make everything so much worse, but I can’t help myself going over to his products and smelling them all, closing my eyes and imagining it's him there with me. Encompassing me, dominating me like I heard in the shower block that time, and I wish I’d stayed and not freaked out and run off. Taking a breath, I realise I have a raging hard-on, too. What the fuck am I going to do about that? I can’t walk out of here like this, and I can’t stay in here till it’s gone down on its own. It throbs in my chinos, and I undo the button and slide down the zip.Resting my hand above the toilet, I lean over it and slowly slide my hand down over my erection.
I groan and bite my lip, trying to keep my breathing regulated and my mind off him. I don’t want to keep doing this, picturing him, making myself cum. As soon as I look at him, I’m going to be hard all the time. But as I start to stroke myself, it's him; he invades my mind, and now I’ve seen him naked, it’s all I can picture. Those toned abs, that tight chest, those bulging biceps, those long muscled thighs, and his arse, that tight firm arse, my breath hitches as I tighten my grip, sliding my hand over my shaft faster till I feel my balls tighten, and his name is a whisper on my lips as I cum into the toilet.
I close my eyes and shake my head. I’m not gonna survive here. I have all these feelings, and I’ve no idea what to do with them. Being in such close proximity to him is going to be a challenge. I can’t lock myself in the bathroom and hope he’s not there when I leave.
