Chapter Nineteen
Maddox
I woke up to thebeep, beep, beepof a large vehicle backing up. Kicking my legs off the couch and rubbing my face, I blinked myself awake.
It looked like the guys were headed back to the city that morning.
I stumbled my way across the large, open space of the living area until I got the kitchen corner. Fumbling around to put on the coffee, I heard the distant howl of a chainsaw.
I still couldn’t believe what had happened the night before. I thought those guys were too young for me. The men I went for usually had as much muscle as mass as I did and just as many years of experience tossing other guys around. But there was something that really got me going about seeing them together. It was like they were each begging me to rock their worlds, with Malcolm’s eager whimpers and Gunner’s cocky need for discipline.
Shaking my head, I punched a couple buttons on the coffee machine and splashed some water on my face. None of that really mattered, anyway. The guys would be on their way, and I doubted we’d ever cross paths again. I hardly went into the city those days, and I doubted they’d come breaking and entering around the neighborhood again anytime soon.
Right on cue, they both came wandering down the wide wooden staircase. Gunner was in his boxers, and Malcolm had my flannel on like it was a robe.
“Morning,” I said, throwing my voice across the room. “It sounds like they’re clearing the road right now. It will probably take a while to finish, so you’ll have time for breakfast.”
Gunner dropped down on the couch he was passing, then rummaged beneath the coffee table until he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “I’m having a smoke,” he announced, heading to the back door.
Malcolm smiled at me, then took a seat at the counter. I poured him a cup of coffee. “There might be some honey, if you want to sweeten it,” I offered.
He shook his head quickly. “I got used to drinking black coffee when I was in school to be a librarian. There was just one little coffee machine in the main library where I studied, and the sweetener in it was gross.”
I chuckled, pulling a couple cans of beans out of the cupboard. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t offer you much for breakfast, but I’ll heat up these cans. There’s some diners when you get back to the highway.”
Malcolm shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you owe anything to the guys who broke into your house.”
I remembered the first time I came upon them the night before last. Now that they were leaving, I felt a stronger desire to say something to Malcolm about my family. I just couldn’t figure out what those words should be.
“I’m sorry you have to go home to a stressful living situation,” I said, leaning forward on the counter. “I know how difficult it is to live somewhere you can’t relax.”
Malcolm nodded. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out soon.” He said it with a lot of confidence, like his troubles were nothing to worry about. I knew, however, how awful my uncle could be and imagined they might be more headaches ahead for him.
Malcolm noticed the clothes I had pulled from the dryer, folded and sitting on the couch. Walking over, he pulled his boxer briefs on, kicking his legs into the underwear and then hitching them up beneath the flannel. Undoing the two buttons he had fastened in the front, he folded my shirt, carefully setting it aside before he finished dressing himself.
“I’m glad I got to see your place, though,” he said, turning back toward me. “And to meet you. Now I have new garden goals for myself.”
“There’s not much to look at now, but I’m pretty happy with how it turns out when I’m around to tend to the plants.”
“I can tell,” he said, returning to the counter.
I accepted the compliment, nodding warmly. Maybe it was the glow from the evening before, but he looked much more confident in himself. After establishing his career so young and living on his own, I wasn’t surprised. It had taken me until I was thirty to gather enough strength and integrity to get my act together.
Gunner came back in through the back door, his boxers still hanging loosely off his hips. “The noises stopped,” he announced. “I think they might be done clearing the path.”
Malcolm gestured to the pile of clothes, and Gunner began to dress himself while they talked. Scooping some beans into dishes and squirting a little hot sauce on top, I found myself lingering over the last moment with the guys. The men I usually hooked up with were as quick to move on as I was. They didn’t need anything more from me than a quick, hard fuck, and I tended to feel the same about them. But it was easy to convince myself that Malcolm and Gunner did need me. It wasn’t like they were weak or lost—they were stronger and smarter than they gave themselves credit for, and no matter where their lives took them, I knew they would be fine.
I just believed, for one fleeting moment, that we could be stronger and happier together than we were apart.
Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts and offered Gunner a cup of coffee. We chatted over the meager breakfast, with Gunner asking more questions about my welding practice and Malcolm sitting with a shy expression by his side. The memories of the night before hung thick in the air, and I could almost taste the passion that I had watched from above. It was an unspoken thing between us, but every time Malcolm blushed and looked away, I remembered exactly how explosive it had been.
Malcolm finished off the last of his beans, and I nodded with appreciation when Gunner rose to his feet, clearing the dishes without being prompted. Malcolm glanced at his phone for a minute, then sighed and shoved it back in his pocket.
“Someone waiting for you back home?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Just my parents, saying hello.”
“I imagine you’re eager to get back to the city,” I said.
