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Chapter Thirty-One

Jordan

Pretty sure an alien has invaded my body. Some worm-like thing that’s settled into my brain and took over. Nothing else makes sense.

Why the fuck did I take Alex home?

I picked him up, put him in my truck, and drove him home like some stray fucking cat.

I hate cats.

He leans on me all the way into the house, unable to walk alone. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or his leg, but he’s going to hear my mouth about this tomorrow.

I am not busting my ass to help him heal, only for him to go and fuck himself up more. If he isn’t going to take this shit seriously, he can go back to PA with a bum knee and fuck right off .

“Nice house,” he mutters, even though his gaze is on the floor.

I roll my eyes, guiding him to my bedroom. I drop him onto my bed, and it creaks from his weight. It’s nothing fancy, like he’s probably used to, but he’ll have to deal with it. A smirk crosses his lips and he looks up at me, those dark green eyes full of mischief.

“Didn’t peg you for the taking advantage type, Jordan.”

“Fuck you, Alex. You can sleep outside with the coyotes if you’d rather.”

He lies down, spreading his arms like a starfish and sighs dramatically.

“Jordan Mackenzie’s bed. How ever did I get so lucky?”

How much did he drink? Though, this could just be normal Alex. He says stupid shit in crowds of people, I can only imagine that gets worse when there are less people around.

“Bathroom is down the hall. I am not helping you get undressed,” I growl as I move toward the door. “And if you piss in my bed, you’re buying me a new mattress.”

“Wait, where are you going?” he yells.

I ignore him, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it by the washroom door before grabbing a bottle of water.

I put the TV on, get my boots and jeans off, then lie down on the couch.

The two beers I had at the bar were enough to give me a headache, I guess, because my head is fucking pounding.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I force myself to sleep, only to be woken up moments later to a loud bang.

I jump off the couch and shouting leads me to the bathroom. I jog over, finding Alex on the floor, kicking his legs and punching the ground. The shelf that was hanging on the wall over the toilet is now on the floor, not far from him. He probably lost his balance, reached for it, and it came down.

“Alex—”

“Fuck off!” he shouts, and that’s when I realize there are tears pouring down his face. “Just leave me alone, Jordan. Go the fuck away.”

Normally I’d tell him off. Let him know he can go fuck himself since this is my house, but some part of me feels bad seeing him like this. So I just stand here, watching him, waiting for him to settle so I can help. Even though I’m not entirely sure how I can help him. But I want to.

“Everyone else leaves me, so just go! I’m not your problem.” He chokes back a sob.

“Alex—”

“What’s the point of this? Of anything!” He kicks my tub with his good leg, banging his hand against the wall. He hangs his arms over his knees, which are pulled up to his chest. The light of the bathroom flickers, and I look up at it. Been meaning to change that for a while now.

“Everything is ruined. My career is over. My fucking life is ruined .”

“No it isn’t, it—”He jerks his head up, the tear stains on his cheeks shining in the light. “Yes it is! I can’t do anything right. Except destroy everything I fucking love. I can’t even piss right!”

I sigh, moving forward and dropping to my knees beside him. I reach for him, but he slaps me away.

“I said leave me alone!” he bellows.

I reach for him again, and he slaps me harder—enough that it echoes in the room. I don’t pull away this time, though. I grab his arm, tug him up, and pull him against me.

He’s shaking, body warm, sobbing as he mutters about how his life sucks and everyone hates him and he’s tired of pretending. He fights my grip, trying to break free, but I hold him tighter, which makes him cry harder. I’ve never seen him like this before.

I’ve always known he has issues, you can see them from a mile away, but this is worse than what I imagined. Or maybe it’s just gotten worse over the years, I don’t know.

“My parents are right. I’m useless.”

“You’re not useless,” I say, after he chokes out those words .

“My knee is fucked and it’s all my fault!

I…” He shuts his eyes, his jaw tenses, almost as if he wants to say something but thinks better of it.

“If I don’t have hockey, I have nothing.

I’ll have to stay in this shit hole. By my fucking self.

I hate this place. This town sucks. And so do the people in it. ”

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” I say. “I’m here.”

Not that that in any way should be a good thing or a reason to make him want to stay.

Alex and I can’t be anything more than what we are.

I know this, yet… I’m still drawn to him the way I was all those years ago.

I’ve tried to let go of what happened between us, but I still think about it all the time.

It still gives me butterflies and has made me miss the fuck out of him.

I’d never tell him his enthusiasm and sarcasm are not as awful as I make it seem.

It’s also annoyed me to no end because I just don’t fucking understand it.

“You don’t even like me,” Alex mutters against my chest. His palm settles right over my heart, against my bare skin, heating it like a brand.

“Most days,” I say, and that gets me a laugh.

He sniffles, burying his face against my neck.

This… is such a bad idea. Once I realized nothing was broken, I should have left him.

My body stiffens, the familiar tension coming back from all those years ago like it never left. I don’t need him waking up tomorrow thinking we’re together or something. I don’t need him running around town, telling people what happened or hoping for more.

But Alex won’t do that. He could have said something years ago, but he hasn’t. I don’t think he ever will. Which means my issue has nothing to do with Alex telling people. I guess I know that too. Always have.

My issue is I don’t want to hurt him. I can’t give him what he wants or what he needs. One of us has to be the bigger and smarter person here.

Alex rubs his face against my neck, and his lips brush over my collarbone.

It’s a strange sort of softness against the rough, scratchy feel of his stubble.

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly.

His breathing slows, evens out, and his grip on me loosens.

Sleeping in here is not what I want to do.

It won’t be good for either of our backs.

“Alex,” I say, giving him a little shake.

He mutters something, then slips his arms around my waist and tightens his grip like he’s afraid to let go.

We cannot stay on my bathroom floor all night.

It’s too small and the ground is hard and cold.

The light flickers out, bathing us in shadows, the only light the stream of moonlight from the small block window.

I untangle his limbs from mine and get to my feet.

“Come on, Alex,” I say, pulling him up and getting him on his feet.

“Tired,” he mutters, face still buried against my chest .

“Yeah, we’re going to bed. Come on.”

He limps back to my room. I’m sure he fucked his knee up worse, and he just doesn’t feel it yet.

But he’ll feel it in the morning. I’ll have to assess that tomorrow and figure out what to do about it.

Before or after I lay into him about it, I’m not sure.

I get him into bed and tuck him in. When I pull away, he grabs my wrist.

“Stay with me,” he says, eyes fluttering open.

“Alex…”

“Please, Jordan.” His voice is soft and I can hear the exhaustion in it. It’s not the kind of exhaustion a night of sleep will fix, which makes me feel guilty even though I’m not the one who caused it.

I hold his gaze, focusing on his warm hand around my wrist.

“We can’t do this, Alex.”

“I know,” he says. “Just for tonight. I promise tomorrow everything will be back to normal.”

The pleading in his eyes is what does me in. After seeing him break down in my bathroom, how can I tell him no?

“Fine. Okay.”

He throws the blankets down on the other side of the bed, and I go around to climb in. He turns on his side to face me. His eyes are tired, still watery, but there’s the faintest glimmer of mischief.

“Can’t we cuddle?” he asks with a smirk .

“Don’t push your luck,” I growl, tugging the blankets up to my chin. But somehow in the night, we end up cuddling anyway.