Page 27 of Phantom Faceoff (Daddies of the League #5)
“I’m not going to baby you, jerk,” Julian says, voice gentle but firm. “You have skills for dealing with this. We have steps. You don’t ghost me of all people.”
Malachi nods like a reprimanded child. “I’m sorry. Really.”
Julian’s smile is soft, and he leans over to stroke the top of Malachi’s head. “Thank you. But I’m not the one you owe an apology to.”
That’s when he looks at me, like truly looks at me, and instead of saying anything he holds out his hand.
I take it, fitting my fingers between his and holding as tight as I dare.
He stares at our joined hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of mine, until his head drops to my shoulder. I inch my thigh over to knock against his, creating as many points of contact as I can.
After a long time where I fear he may have fallen asleep—and I would have carried his ass all the way back to the dorms if I had to—he tightens his grip on my hand and touches the tip of his nose to my jaw.
“I love you,” he says—low and breathy like he’s about to swan dive off a precipice.
My own breathing stops. My chest burns, and then it all comes rushing in at once like a tsunami.
“Holy shit,” I say, which is far from an eloquent reply, but it makes him crack a smile. I feel it when he presses his mouth to my cheek.
“Holy shit, indeed.”
I turn my face to meet his wandering mouth, and it’s not so much a kiss as the two of us sharing a breath. When I finally press my lips to his, it’s tentative, and he responds with threading his fingers in the back of my hair and holding me steady to him.
We don’t push closer, just exist in each other’s touch.
Malachi’s skin pebbles where scratch over the surface with my fingertips, bare and cool from the whip of the air.
“How aren’t you freezing?” I ask, slipping both arms around his shoulders to pull him into me.
A soft noise comes from his lips, and I rub my hands along the planes of his back to create friction and warmth.
It isn’t long before Julian presses in beside us, covering Malachi’s other side with his body and wrapping him up in his arms.
“Silly, Daddy,” Julian mutters, and I feel Malachi’s smile as he trails it down my neck, burying his face in the crook and slipping his arms beneath my hoodie.
The three of us sit there in a human cuddle pile until the rhythmic sound of Malachi’s breathing begins to shake and little droplets cascade down my collarbone.
“We’ve got you,” I say, holding him as close as our bodies allow. “You’re safe.”
A soft rush of air skitters across my chest. Once the tears dry and his breathing settles, Malachi pulls away to rest his weight on the trunk of the tree. Julian and I let him have a little bit of space, but stay seated beside him should he want contact.
“I have to talk about it, don’t I?”
“You don’t have to,” I say, picking at the blades of grass between us. “But I’d like to hear it. I’d like to get to know this part of you.”
His face twists into a grimace. “It’s not pretty.”
“I don’t need it to be.”
His heavy sigh fills the silence, and I resist the urge to reach out and touch him.
“Um, okay. I guess … I had this boyfriend of sorts when I was like sixteen, seventeen. His name was Mack. He was one of the kids in our group home.”
He wraps his arms around himself and aims his eyes at the ground beneath him.
“Mack was this … enigmatic force. Loud. Demanding. If you were on his good side, he made you feel secure in a way most of us had never had in the system.”
He releases a trembled breath.
“The couple in charge of the home, they loved him. He was their shiny, golden foster kid. They used him as an example to get more kids placed with them. If you got in with Mack, you were safe. If you didn’t then he made your life hell.”
Julian is the first to break the silent truce, grabbing hold of Malachi’s hand and squeezing it so tight their knuckles turn white.
“I knew that. I knew how he was. We’d been there longer than him, so for a while he left us alone. But one day he started … picking away at Julian. Small jabs. Getting him in trouble for things he didn’t do. I caught Julian in the hall closet crying one day and … I lost it.”
Malachi leans his head back on the tree and puts on a small smile.
“I confronted Mack, ready to start the biggest fight and get myself kicked out—and I would have taken Julian with me. We would have ran away at the first sign of Mack laying a hand on him. But that didn’t happen. No. I picked a fight alright, but Mack didn’t fight back.”
His eyes go a little glassy, breathing becoming more labored.
“He kissed me, and … I’d never been kissed like that before. Mack managed to enthrall me. Convince me that he was only hard on kids because the people and places outside would be harder, and he promised that he’d lay off Julian. Admitted that it wasn’t fair, that he was jealous of our friendship.”
That one thing I can understand. Julian and Malachi are the kind of close that can make you feel insecure. Though all I’ve ever felt when it comes to their relationship is peace.
“Long story short, we started seeing each other. In secret. In private. No one could know he was gay—or bi. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you his sexuality because I don’t think he was ever attracted to a person. He was attracted to control. And I let him control me. Because I …”
The look on Malachi’s face can only be described as self hatred, and seeing him this beaten down breaks my fucking heart.
“I fell in love with him. And I didn’t see all of the ways that he … hurt me. Like having sex when I wasn’t ready. Hurting me when we did. Using my protectiveness of Julian to make me do things. Things I’m not proud of. Things that got me beat. That got me … raped.”
The world becomes a colony of buzzing bees living right in my eardrum.
Within seconds, I’m the one that’s crying, the one who Julian leans over Malachi to reach, to drag into a hug where his arms envelope us both.
Mine go around the two of them, and neither of us question Malachi’s arms still lying like lead in his lap.
“Guys.” His laugh is a wet sound. “I don’t like talking about it, so I can’t go into detail, alright? It happened. I got a shit ton of issues from it. They’re mine to deal with.”
“Not true.” I knock my forehead on his and wait until his eyes rise to meet mine. “We won’t let you go through it alone. We’re your boys. We support you just like you support us.”
His lip wobbles. His eyes glisten. Then, his hands come up to grip the back of our necks.
“The day Mack left the home—” his breath is barely above a whisper, “—I told Jules I’d never let anyone hurt us again.”
And so became the birth of Big Bad Wolf Malachi.
“But you, Wildfire,” the words, along with his lips, brush my cheek, “you and all you’re stubbornness wouldn’t leave us alone.”
I still won’t, but I don’t think I have to tell him that.
“You don’t have to run,” I tell him. “If you panic, or if you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me. If you need space, you can tell me. My ego isn’t as big as you think.”
“No, but your mouth is,” he mumbles, and I know it’s supposed to be an insult, but I laugh anyway.
“You love my mouth.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, and when I go to pull away, he grips my head in both his hands and moves in for a longer, slower kiss.
“I love you ,” he says, and just like the first time my heart picks up like it’s running a marathon.
We end up in each other’s arms, kissing and breathing each other in, hands exploring gentle and slow above our clothes. Malachi ducks his head when he needs to catch his breath, and lets out a low, slightly stilted chuckle.
“Sorry, Jules.”
Oh, right.
I look over his shoulder where Julian has moved an arms length away, watching us with the sweetest, saddest smile, and it makes my heart twinge.
“I want that someday,” he says, voice quiet and thick.
I hold Malachi to my chest and reach a hand out to pull Julian over top of us. For right this moment, we need each other.
A few months ago, I never would have thought this was something that I wanted. Now? I can’t imagine not having it.
A Daddy.
A boyfriend.
Malachi freaking Blanchard.
I can’t imagine letting any of it go. Losing it.
Do I love him?