I give a brief nod of acknowledgement and shift around so I’m lying down again, snuggling deeper into the couch and wishing it was Jackson’s hard, warm body I was cuddled up next to. But then I’d just get horny all over again.
Deacon pats my hair affectionately. “You going to be okay here for the next few hours? Sorry I can’t offer you a bed—I never got around to furnishing Drew’s old room.”
“Here’s fine.”
“Cool. I’ll grab some blankets and a pillow. You want anything else?”
I let out a forlorn sigh. “A cuddle.”
Deacon just stands there awkwardly for a moment. “Yeah…I feel bad, but let’s not go crazy.”
“Not from you,” I grumble. “You’re probably bad at cuddling anyway. You probably want to always be the big spoon.”
Deacon folds his arms over his chest, an indignant expression crossing his face. “I amnotbad at cuddling. I’m an excellent cuddler. Better than you, I’d bet.”
“Doubtful. You’re a casual cuddler at best.” I lift a hand in a shooing gesture. “Go back to the juniors, rook. You can’t compete with the big boys.”
Deacon rolls his eyes, muttering, “How the fuck do I get trapped in these conversations with you?”
It’s clearly a rhetorical question because he doesn’t give me the opportunity to answer before he turns and disappears down the short hallway where I know the bathroom and linen closet are located. He returns a moment later, unceremoniously dumping a pillow and waffle blanket on top of me. “There you go. And—” He steps away again as I shove the pillow under my head and toss the blanket haphazardly over myself, resulting in most of it pooling on the floor. Whatever.
This time when Deacon returns, he’s brandishing a three-foot long stuffed alligator. “Will this work as a cuddle buddy?”
I stare at the stuffed animal in mild curiosity. “Why do you have a giant stuffed alligator in your apartment?”
“He’s not an alligator,” Deacon corrects. “This is Curtis the Crocodile. He’s my kindergarten class’s special friend and it’s my weekend to take him on an adventure. We went to the Promenade yesterday.”
“Wow. Lucky Curtis,” I deadpan.
“Do you want the crocodile or not?”
“Yes, please.”
Deacon hands Curtis to me and I cuddle him tightly. It’s not even remotely an adequate substitute for Jackson, but it’s better than nothing.
* * *
I didn’t thinkI’d be able to get to sleep after Deacon shut off the living room light and returned to bed, but clearly I managed it, because I wake with a stiff neck to the sound of someone arriving at the apartment door.
“Fuck, thank god,” Deacon says to whoever just arrived.
I perk up a little—is Jackson here?
“What the hell’s going on? It’s seven in the morning. On a Sunday. That’s tasting menu blow job day, Deacon.Tasting menu blow job day.” It’s Drew’s voice. Not Jackson’s.
I drop my head back onto the pillow, huffing out a sigh of disappointment.
“I have no clue what that is, but have I mentioned how much I love it when you share stuff about my brother’s sex life?” Deacon drawls.
“Then you’d better tell me why I’m here instead of at home with my dick in your brother’s mouth,” Drew quips.
“Fucking hell,”Deacon groans. “It’s Skyler. He showed up here at two am—crying.And he’s been thrashing around on that sofa for the past few hours, whimpering and moaning in his sleep, and clutching that fucking crocodile like it’s a life preserver. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Call Jackson, obviously,” Drew says simply.
“It’saboutJackson.”
“Fuck it, just get him here, Deac—they can work out whatever it is later.”
