Page 18

Chapter 18

Blackout

Parker

I know what it looks like, but I swear it wasn’t my fault.

Carlucci’s isn’t my kind of place. The glares we attract as we take a small booth suggest that it’s very much a locals-only kind of joint. Archie lasts five minutes before taking a taxi home with a pretty brunette, and Will bails soon after, citing an early start.

That leaves me half-heartedly making out with Kelly, whose hand is welded to the upper part of my inner thigh, much to the amusement of her remaining friends. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m not into this. At all.

I keep thinking about Brandon and why he didn’t want to come out with us. Or why he didn’t reply to my text to check that he made it home safely.

I’m about to tell Kelly that I’m going to call it a night, when someone slams into our table. Hard. My beer goes flying, and one of Kelly’s friends almost gets knocked off her chair. The offenders lurch past, chuckling to themselves.

“Watch it!” Kelly shouts after them. One of the guys stops immediately, and slowly turns round. I recognise the sneer on his face immediately. He’s looking for trouble.

“Just forget about them”, I say to her, but it’s too late.

“What’s your problem?” The taller of the two takes a step forward. He’s got half an inch on me, but he’s skinny. It’s his friend, shorter but stocky, making no bones about the fact that he’s sizing me up, that presents the threat.

“No problem”, I say evenly. “Just enjoying our night. Not looking for any trouble”.

“That’s funny”, the shorter one snickers, “Cos it sounded like your girlfriend had a problem. What about it, blondie?”

“Don’t talk to her”. I tense, ready to slide my chair back. “Just talk to me”.

“I just want to know what blondie’s problem is”.

“You are, jackass”, Kelly replies. “Hey, Jack!” she calls over to a baby-faced guy who’s shooting pool with his friends, “This guy wants to know what my problem is”.

Jack, a baby-faced guy in a t-shirt and backwards cap, crosses the room in two strides, bringing his cue with him. He wastes no time getting in the drunk douche’s face. “You wanna start something?”

“You better watch your mouth”.

Just slip out. You don’t need to get involved.

“It’s cool”, Kelly whispers. “Jack can handle this. He wrestles in the local high school”.

“He’s in high school ?” I do a double take, before a more alarming thought occurs to me. “Please tell me that you’re not in high school too”.

“Sweetheart, I’m older than you are. Need to see my ID?”

I slide off my bench and position myself between the two of them. “Listen, boys, I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding”. I fish in my pocket and find a crumpled twenty. “Why don’t I just buy a round—non-alcoholic for you ”. I aim at Jack. “And we leave it there?”

“Keep out of this, pretty boy”.

“You have no idea how much I want to”.

By now, a couple of guys I vaguely recognise from Summit have stood up and walked over. But then, so have a couple of local fellas. “Trying to be funny?” The short one sticks his face in mine. “You look like you know how to fight. How about it?”

“I just need you to make the first move, man”, I say quietly, “So that when I kick your ass, I can tell the cops it was self-defence”.

I meet him right in the eye, and after what feels like an eternity, he blinks first. “Let’s get out of here”, he mutters.

I turn back to Kelly when suddenly two things happen at once. Brandon bursts through the entrance door, hair wet from the rain outside. Before I can speak, I catch sight of a bottle sailing through the air. Right at me.

It lands by my feet with a smash. There’s a split-second pause, then with a snarl, the guy who threw it rushes me, and we tussle as the others dive into the fray. Fists, elbows, kicks. Kelly grabs her purse and takes cover behind the jukebox. I spot the tall guy grab a chair, and raise it over an unsuspecting Jack’s head.

I dive forward, knocking it out of his hands. Jack spins, confused, “What the–“ as I push him out of the way. I land a quick punch right across tall guy’s jaw that sends him to the floor, then grab Jack by the shoulders.

“Get. Home”, I say firmly.

He pushes me off and scatters to the exit.

Suddenly, I’m spun sideways by the bear-like grip of a bouncer who tosses me to the floor. I scramble to my feet, furious, intent on barrelling towards the smug son of a bitch and knocking his lights out, when someone catches my arm.

It’s Brandon.

“Cops”, he yells. It’s only then I hear the sound of sirens over the melee. Brandon hauls me to the exit, where we run-stumble through the double doors and land outside in a dusty heap, tangled together.

The sharp blast of wet night air brings me to my senses.

Before I can react, Brandon drags me to my feet and yanks me into an alleyway as police cars skid to a halt outside the bar. It’s only when he turns and slams me against the wall, snarling his face against mine, that I realise how mad he is.

“What”, he growls, “The actual fuck is wrong with you?”

A shatter of lightning flashes overhead, perfectly illuminating the raindrops that cling dangerously to his jawline. I’m surprised it’s not steaming, given the fire in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I try to push him off but he’s holding me tight, his body pressed against mine. My head feels foggy, like I’m floating. Or more accurately, like I got smacked in the face after three beers.

“You! In there! Acting like a complete psycho!” Brandon yells back, slapping his hand in frustration against the wall. “You could have gotten yourself really fucking hurt. Or arrested”.

It’s only then I notice a cut above his right eye.

“Bran–”, I reach for him, but he knocks my hand away. We stand there, glaring at each other, rain pelting down around us. “Nobody asked you to save me”.

“You never ask. But it always seems to fucking happen, doesn’t it?”

The sirens continue to wail menacingly. For all I know, the cops are taking my description right now. Or deciding to look for me. Brandon seems to have the same idea because he pulls me vaguely in the direction of home, keeping us as hidden as possible from the open road.

We’re completely talking over each other as I try to defend myself whilst he’s in full self-superior rant mode.

“…Completely fucking outnumbered, no regard to your own safety…”

“…Only sticking up for myself, and innocent underage bystanders…”

“…Didn’t think twice about your job, or me, you’re welcome by the way…”

“…Just like everyone else, always assuming the worst…”

“That’s bullshit”, Brandon snaps. Summit’s in sight now. “And you know it”.

“I didn’t fucking start it!”

“But you sure as hell were involved in it”.

“I was breaking it up!” I snap, even though that’s not as strictly true as I’d like it to be, “Maybe if you’d have stuck around, you’d have seen for yourself”.

“Since when have you cared what I did?” he mutters. “You ditched me the second something better came along”.

“I invited you!” My mouth falls open at the sheer hypocrisy, “You told me to go!”

“You weren’t supposed to say yes!”

“Brilliant, Carter. Why don’t you just add ‘not a mind-reader’ to my list of deficiencies?” He scowls.

“If anything, I’ve done you a favour. You get to save the day and I get to be the fuck up. Order has been restored to the Carter Cinematic Universe!”

“Don’t pull that self-pity crap with me, and keep your voice down”, Brandon hisses. “You think I wanted to come swooping in? You think I wouldn’t much rather have had fun with you instead of watching you have fun with just about anyone else?”

My shirt is so wet it’s practically sticking to me. “Why does it matter so much who I was with?” We’re at my door and I stomp ahead of him, pulling out my keys. ”Are you jealous?”

He stops. Wet hair plastered to his face. His eyes flash in anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fuck. That was too far.

“It was just a joke. Lighten up”. You just got him back in your life. Don’t screw it up again. I unlock the door, “Come inside”.

He stands rooted to the spot. “Why would you say that?” He sounds strangled, and I feel a stab of guilt that I’m the cause of his obvious distress. “You can’t just… we agreed that we’d just be… ”

“I’m sorry”, I say quickly. “I’m sorry, okay? About all of it. I’m just… drunk, and stupid”. The smart thing to do right now would be for me to just say goodnight, head inside and go to bed. I could do all of those things.

I could .

So why does it feel like I can’t move?

The security light that’s been illuminating our conversation fizzles and burns out. “Parker”, he says into the darkness. My name sounds so long on his lips. So wretched. “Go to bed, okay?”

“Nah”. I shake my head. “I like it here”.

“Your clothes are soaked”.

“True”, I sluggishly pull my t-shirt over my head, letting it drop to the ground. I stand there, bare-chested, with a triumphant smile. “Problem solved”.

“You’re trouble”, he says, a light in his eye.

“That used to be what you liked about me”.

I’ve got a sudden desire to reach out and touch him. And the hunger in his eyes tells me that I’m not the only one feeling this way. He takes a step forward.

I lean against my doorway. “What do I get if I go to bed?”

“I might still be speaking to you in the morning”.

“What do I get if I stay here?” I breathe.

We’re so close I can literally see him swallow. He opens his mouth, but whatever he was going to say dies on his lips as I grab his shirt, and pull him into a deep, passionate kiss.

His mouth meets mine, warm and sweet and hungry. Firm hands grip my chest, and suddenly he’s pushing me backwards. “Don’t”, he gasps for breath, “Not if you don’t mean it”.

I answer him with another kiss, fumbling with my key and dragging him into the hallway. I barely close the door behind us before I’ve pulled his shirt off too.

His lips are as soft. His touch is electric. His weight presses me to the wall. His hands work their way down my waist, holding me firmly in place. I almost faint with desire when his tongue joins the party.

Every single one of my senses is overloading. Outside, the rain whips against the door, but I feel like I’m burning up. I’m firmly in control of this, but he’s meeting me with every beat.

This is the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life.

Every single fibre of my being is screaming at him to touch me. To really touch me. My dick is hardening, and if I can feel it, then so can he. He breaks free of me for a moment, and I think damn, this is it, he’s going to stop . But instead, he snarls and begins exploring my neck with his teeth.

Another flash of lightning momentarily lights up the room.

“Parker”, Brandon groans faintly. My hands are pressed against his chest, trying not to melt under the thickness of his muscle. Our lips break apart, and I blink, confused. “We can’t”.

“You expect me to believe that you don’t want this? That you haven’t been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about you?”

“You know that I have”.

“Then tell me to stop and mean it”.

“I can’t”. He takes a hungry step forward and pulls me into another kiss. Our mouths fit together so damn easily. He’s controlling my tongue with his, and my body spreads invitingly from the sheer wattage of his sex appeal.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want you to ever stop”.

My erection is so hard it’s becoming painful. I grind up against him, thrusting our groins together. Our rhythm gets faster and faster as he begins to gasp for air, and my legs begin to shake. Suddenly, I realise what’s happening, what I’m doing.

We’re fucking. With what’s left of our clothes on.

“Fuck”, Brandon gasps, “We’re…”

But it’s too late. Our breathing become ragged and shallow, and overcome with ecstasy, I cry out, as his body spasms uncontrollably. We collapse on top of each other, against the wall, exhausted.

I mutter something unintelligible in his ear. Neither of us move as our chests begin breathing in sync. Rain continues to fall softly outside.

In this distance, a car door slams. An engine roars, heading for the highway. Slowly the real world starts to come back to life.

Upstairs, a light flicks on. We both freeze. A bedroom door opens. Archie calls out sleepily. “Is that you, Di Rossi?”

The silence as Brandon extracts himself from me chills me to the bone. He looks between me, and the sound of Archie’s voice, then lets himself out of the front door, not bothering to close it behind him as he disappears into the night.