Page 76 of Bruised

An uncomfortable feeling courses through my chest at the thought.

I don’t want him to be gone, but after Oliver’s left for college, what reason will he have to come over? I suppose he could sneak into my room at night like some secret fuck buddy, but I don’t know… That’s not what I want.

I want him here, in the house, where I can touch him and speak to him and suck him off and have him in my room at night. I don’t want him out doing other shit; I want him here with me.

I feel like a belligerent toddler who’s losing their favorite toy. Lane isn’t a toy, but… he’s my puppy. He’s mine. He was never supposed to be mine for longer than the summer, and now that summer’s almost gone, I don’t know what to do.

I never planned for this. I never plan much at all, but I never planned on wanting him for longer than I’m supposed to. I thought I’d get sick of him; I thought he’d just be another fuck, but now he’s not just a nightly routine—he’s a need. I want him all the time, even during the day.

I catch him in the living room one afternoon. He’s alone on the couch while Oliver’s upstairs talking loudly to Mom about college shit. Lane’s curled up in a ball, face buried between his knees, and he doesn’t notice me until I’m right in front of him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” I say.

He jolts and looks up at me, eyes wide. “Where?”

“Somewhere we can be alone.” I go to the kitchen and start stuffing my backpack full of snacks. Lane’s favorite sour candy, my own preferred protein bars, some fruit, a couple of sodas. Even a blanket for us to sit on. And of course, I’ve got some lube stashed in my wallet.

“What about your probation?” Lane asks.

“It’s fine.” I’m supposed to report to my parole officer whenever I leave the house, but fuck that. Just for once, I want to be free. “Are you coming or not?”

Lane bites his lower lip, no doubt worried about what Oliver’s gonna think when he finds out we’re both out of the house.

“Leave him a note or something,” I say. “Let’s go.”

Lane scribbles a note and leaves it on the kitchen island. To the store. Back in a bit. Nice.

We’re both being kind of reckless, but that’s the point. I’m feeling like I’ll crawl out of my own skin if I don’t get out of the house right now. I need something that makes me feel good and not like I’m about to combust with frustration. And I want to be with Lane.

This time, I drive us to Forest Park. It’s about a thirty-minute ride from suburban Woodstock, and the road will take us over the river, through downtown. Lane looks out the window the whole way, and he points out little landmarks in an excited voice.

“That’s where I went to elementary school.”

“That’s where my dad used to work.”

“Oh! Oh! I love that diner! They have these huge waffles.”

I smile as I listen to him; his sweet voice makes me feel at peace. I almost want to take a detour into the side streets of Old Town or down to the Waterfront Park just to hear more of his enthusiasm. It would be a beautiful day for it. It’s sunny but not too warm, and the water is glittering as we drive over the bridge into downtown.

Soon enough, the urban view mixes with nature the closer we get to Forest Park. I park the car on the outskirts and lead us to a secluded spot surrounded by trees.

Here, I lay out the picnic blanket. There’s a hiking trail further down the hill, but no one’s likely to see or hear us unless we’re loud. We sit on the picnic blanket, and I pull out the things I brought in my backpack one by one.

Lane’s eyes light up at the sight of the candy. “For me?”

“Of course it’s for you, puppy. You deserve a treat.”

“Oh.” He averts his gaze to hide the flush creeping up his neck.

Fuck, when did simply looking at him become so addictive?

I open the candy bag and hold up a gummy between my thumb and index finger. “Let me.”

He looks at me in question, so I pat my thighs, coaxing him closer, and his cheeks flush deeper in understanding. He sits on his haunches, scoots closer, and opens his mouth.

My breath quickens as much as his when I put the piece of candy between his lips and push it into his mouth with my thumb. He moans sweetly as the candy rolls onto his tongue, and he starts to chew. Fuck, I could watch him forever. The way his bangs frame his face so perfectly, the way he’s so eager to sit in that submissive pose.

I hold up another gummy. “One more?”