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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Gray

I woke with my face buried in the pillow, in my standard starfish formation. The bed was a little small for me—and it’d been even more cramped with Emory beside me. He’d ended up draped half on top of me all night, but that was all good because I’d been able to hold him just as I’d promised.

Hugging was therapeutic. I’d learned that from my foster mom, Marianne. When Axel came to live with us, she’d pulled me aside and asked me to be patient with him when he wanted to tag along with me, to never leave him behind, and to hug him as often as I could because hugs released chemicals in the body that built trust and reduced loneliness, and Axel especially needed them after years of neglect.

I was pretty sure Emory needed them last night too.

Without Marianne, we’d all be far more fucked-up. She’d gotten us therapy, given us unconditional love, and taught us that love for each other could be our strongest medicine.

But wait. How was I starfished in the bed with Emory here? I opened my eyes, coming fully awake. Damn it. I was alone.

I couldn’t even check to see if the sheets were cool because I’d been lying across the whole dang bed. He could have snuck out at 3:00 a.m. or left ten minutes ago. I had no way to tell.

The scent of bacon and coffee filtered in, followed by the clatter of a dish and laughter. Well, now I knew what had woken me. Too bad I’d been too dead to the world to notice Emory leaving the bed. I could have tried to talk him into staying.

I threw back my blankets and grabbed my phone, checking for any messages. Nothing. Great.

I debated calling Emory. But what if he’d gone back to bed once he got home? I didn’t want to disturb him. My thoughts weren’t clear enough for a text. What would I even say: I’m cranky I didn’t get to wake up with you? Or, Why couldn’t I be the guy you leaned on?

Emory didn’t need my guilt trip to go along with the major regrets over his brother’s death. I had to give him the time and space he needed. Hell, I hadn’t earned the right to be the man who Emory counted on, not yet. Not when we were still skirting around the idea of this being more than a series of hookups.

With no better options and my stomach rumbling for that bacon, I pulled on some shorts and went down the stairs.

“You assholes better have made enough for me!” I called as I crossed the living room.

I stopped short, heart lurching when I saw Emory in my kitchen, cracking an egg into a sizzling pan before him. Bacon lay on a plate to the side, grease soaking through the paper towel beneath it.

He hadn’t left. He was…making breakfast?

Bailey stood beside him, a smirk on his face. “Sorry, bro, but Emory is cooking for me. You can go hungry.”

Emory swatted his arm. “Behave, or no chocolate chip pancakes for you.”

My gaze landed on the plate piled with fluffy pancakes with happy faces made from chocolate chips. “Seriously, Bailey? You’re a grown-ass man.”

“Holden won’t ever put the chocolate chips in,” Bailey said, “and I’ve yet to see you make anything around here. How else am I gonna get them?”

“By cooking for yourself like a big boy?” I suggested.

“Whatever,” Bailey said with a playful pout. “You’re just jealous.”

Emory chuckled. “Children, stop fighting. I really don’t mind making the pancakes.” He hesitated. “But Gray, if you’d prefer something else…”

I approached him at the stove, giving my brother the stink eye. “That’s sweet, Em, but whatever you make is good enough for me. You really didn’t have to do this.”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, so I figured, why not?”

Bailey shifted down the counter. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

Oh, sure. Now he wanted to play the role of sweet little brother.

“I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous, me cooking breakfast?” Emory said quietly. “I wanted to thank you for last night. I totally melted down, and you were so great about it. Talk about ruining the afterglow, right?”

I flipped off the burner, then took his chin in my hand and kissed him. I didn’t give a shit that Bailey was a few feet away. I needed Emory to understand. “You didn’t ruin anything, golden boy. You’ve kept a lot of things inside. Things you probably need to share. And I’m happy to be the one to listen.”

He wet his lips, gaze flicking over my shoulder to keep tabs on Bailey. “You’ve had it so much worse, though. It’s kind of silly that I’m such a mess about this one thing, isn’t it? I mean, you lost two sets of parents.”

My lips twisted. “Yeah, well, it’s not a competition. I have my brothers. They’ve all got scars too. Some worse than mine. But thanks to them, I’m got support when I need it, and so do you now.”

His eyes met mine, a glassy sheen to them. My words had hit the mark. Before he could say anything more, Holden stomped in, looking like death warmed over.

“What’s going on in here?” he grumbled.

“Breakfast,” I said. “Emory is cooking. Isn’t that nice of him?”

Holden caught the warning tone in my voice. “Very nice. Thanks, Emory. I need coffee and grease to soak up the booze.”

“One upside to not being old enough to drink,” Bailey said cheerfully. “I feel great.”

“You just wait, kid.” Holden grabbed the coffee cup Bailey had just filled for me. “Your time is coming.”

Emory turned the burner back on. “I’m making Bailey over-easy eggs. Let me know what the rest of you want.”

“That’s good for me,” I said.

“Over hard, if you don’t mind,” Holden said. “I can’t handle yolk running all over my plate.”

I snorted. Typical for my control freak brother. But that begged the question, why did he drink so much last night? It wasn’t like him.

I moseyed over and took Bailey’s half-drunk coffee from him. I raised it for a sip, ignoring his whining about coffee thieves.

“What happened to keeping a clear head?” I asked Holden. “I didn’t think you drank much.”

“I don’t,” he said shortly. “But after you left, Axel kept plying me with shots. Playing along was the only way to keep him away from Deputy Handsy.”

I snorted. “Is that what we’re all calling Dalton Harvey now?”

“He’s got some sort of interest in Axel. I can’t tell if he wants to fuck him or make his life hell. I think it’s better if we don’t find out. You know he works with that fuckhead, Sheriff Hale. He’s bad news.”

I grimaced. Dallas’s father hadn’t been sheriff when I left town, but he’d been a deputy, and he’d relished the opportunity to go on power trips, breaking up parties, pulling us over for simply being foster kids no one liked, threatening to toss us into jail for asinine reasons.

I should have known Dallas would be no better, but I was a sex-starved, closeted gay kid, and I’d taken a gamble and lost. It made me cringe a little that I’d let my standards sink so low.

“Okay, Bailey and Holden, your plates are ready,” Emory called.

Bailey grinned like a little kid. “Yes, thank you!”

I rejoined Emory by the stove, sliding my hand across his back. “What can I do to help?”

“Can you carry everything else to the table? I’ll be done in just a few minutes.”

I nodded. “You got it.”

Bailey dug into his breakfast, moaning and groaning like he was having a one-man orgy. I carried the stack of remaining pancakes and bacon to the table while Emory finished the last of the eggs.

Holden dished up his plate but waited for us like a civilized man.

By the time I’d poured more coffee for everyone, including Emory, he’d finished the last of breakfast and joined me at the table.

We all dug in, Holden cutting each bite meticulously while Bailey shoveled food into his mouth as if someone might steal it from him. I savored each bite, appreciating the care that went into it.

“When I woke up, I thought you might have taken off,” I murmured.

Emory’s left hand slipped onto my thigh and squeezed. “Sorry. You looked like you needed the rest. Couldn’t have been easy to sleep with me lying all over you all night.”

“I slept great,” I said. “I grew up with Axel climbing into bed with me. Trust me, you’ve got nothing on him. He used to kick me in the gut a dozen times a night.”

Emory laughed, which was my aim. “Where is Axel anyway? Should I have made extra for him?”

“He won’t be up until noon at best,” Holden answered. “When he gets in these moods, we sometimes don’t see him all day.”

“These moods?” Emory asked, forehead creasing. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Bailey said. “Axel likes to have fun, that’s all.”

“Sometimes he has a little too much fun,” Holden grumbled.

“And you have too little,” Bailey shot back.

“Guys, let’s save the sniping for when Emory isn’t here, having just made us all a great breakfast.”

“It’s okay,” Emory said. “You’re brothers. It’s what brothers do.”

There was a wistful tone to his voice I recognized now that I knew about his loss. I grasped his hand under the table and squeezed it.

“How about we take a bike ride later?” I suggested, wanting to take his mind off it.

His eyes lit up. “Really? That would be amazing. I haven’t seen you on your bike yet.”

“I know.” I grinned. “I’ve been too busy to really take it out for a spin. I need to blow out the cobwebs.”

“They look like they want to blow something,” Bailey muttered.

Holden elbowed him. “Thanks for breakfast, Emory. Bailey and I have some errands to run.”

“We do?” Bailey asked, then grunted. “Right. Yeah. Errands.”

Holden gathered the dirty dishes, carrying them to the sink. “I’ll wash up later. Thanks again, guys.”

“I guess they think we want to be alone,” Emory said with a chuckle.

“Well…” I grasped his face and kissed him. “I had been hoping to spend a little more time in bed with you this morning.”

Emory’s eyes darkened. “I suppose I am a little tired.”

I pushed my chair back and pulled him up to stand with me. “Get your ass into my bed, then.”

I smacked his butt, and he gave a surprised yelp before shooting me a hot look and running for the stairs. I followed him up, giving chase, arousal making my blood run hot as I tackled him to my bed.

He laughed beneath me, eyes bright and happy.

“This is how I want you all the time,” I said, pinning him beneath me.

“Trapped and at your mercy?”

“Smiling.” I kissed him. “Playful.” I moved my lips down his jaw to his ear. “Sexy.”

His breath caught. “Then keep kissing me.”

“With pleasure.” I took his mouth again, plunging my tongue inside and savoring his moan. Emory arched beneath me, his hard cock grinding against mine.

We fumbled with our clothing, clumsy and awkward as we raced to get naked, and I grabbed the lube from the bedside table. I slicked our cocks, then went back to kissing him, burying my slimy fingers in his hair.

“Now, that’s what I call a good morning.”