I remember the feel of his lips against my fingers, of his fingers twisting in my hair, pushing me, shoving his cock down my throat with a force I’ll never be able to forget.
I open my eyes, staring at the stars above me as I come without warning, my stomach muscles spasming as I cup my hand over my cock so I don’t make a mess.
“Fuck,” I curse as I close my eyes, the guilt ransacking me for what I’ve done.
I need to have better control. Of myself, of my desires.
I need to be better.
I need to begood.
As I let myself fall into darkness, I tell myself I can do it.
I can be a good boy, if that’s what he wants.
Chapter Fifteen
Jordan
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for my best friend. This is what Austen wants, and I’m glad he’s getting it. Only, deep down, I know as well as he does it isn’texactlywhat he wants—but that’s his business. I’ll support him no matter what he does. If this is the route he’s choosing to go, I won’t stop him. Sometimes we have to make decisions that we don’t want to make and have to do things that don’t feel right because we need to survive in this cruel fucking world.
I can’t say I’d do any differently if I were Austen.
Savannah isn’t so bad, anyway. She’s hot, a little bitchy and a lot needy, but there are worse people out there. They’ve been together this long, and if they haven’t killed each other yet, I think they’ll be just fine.
With all that said, I think all this wedding stuff is stupid. Especially the rehearsal dinner, because what the fuck are we actually rehearsing? Nothing. It’s just a dinner, another reason to spend money. We already have all the details on the wedding, so we’re going to this dinner to see each other again. Which is dumb. Half of these people I see all the time and the other half I don’t want to see ever again. Namely, Alex. But here I fucking am, standing outside the restaurant and trying to come up with an excuse to not go in. I could say my ride got into an accident and I can’t make it. Someone would probably offer to pick me up though, so I don’t think that excuse will actually work.
Lucky fucking Cameron and his sudden need to be out of the country for some model thing means he won’t be here.
He’s the best man. If his avoidance isn’t loud and clear to what happened with him and Austen in Vegas, I don’t know what is. It’s funny that Austen thinks we all don’t know something happened, that he’s just pretending everything is normal. We’re not that fucking stupid, and I’m offended he’s acting like we are.
“Hey, fucker.” I look up and see Paul walking toward me.
“Hey.”
“There a reason you’re standing out here all alone?”
“Just getting some air.”
“Right,” he says with a slow nod.
“We can go in,” I offer, not wanting him to ask me questions about things I don’t want to answer.
Alex is already in there. Austen let us know his family would be there early, in case we wanted to get here early too. I didn’t have the balls to tell him I didn’t want to go at all. I doubt he would have cared, now that I think about it. He’s dealing with enough shit. Me not showing is the least of his concerns.
I pull open the door and let Paul walk in first, then go after him. I haven’t seen anyone else come or go since I’ve been outside, so I have no idea if we’re the last two to show.
Turns out, we are.
Fucking great.
It’s all eyes on us as we’re led over to the table, but it’s one particular set of eyes that are burning holes into me. Alex.
I refuse to look at him, and I’m pissed when I see the only two seats left are across from him. At least if I’d sat beside him, I wouldn’t have to worry about him looking at me.
“So glad you could make it,” Austen says with a smile.
Paul and I take our seats as everyone gives their hellos and we return them with waves and head nods. It’s always weird when you walk into a group of people like this. Are we supposed to say hi to everyone individuallyor what? My mother is a fucking heathen and raised me the same way. Thankfully, I had enough sense to take the manners I was taught in school seriously. I learned social cues from peers, because I liked the way their interactions went better than the ones with my mother. She was always yelling at people and people were always yelling at her. They’d give her dirty looks and make rude remarks. When I acted like her, they did the same to me. But when I acted like the other kids in school, people were nice. I like it better when they’re nice.
