Page 25 of Too Many Beds

Ambrose

W e pull over at a restaurant two towns over, checking our surroundings before getting off our bikes and walking inside. Swaying from side to side, Oakley looks like he’s on the verge of passing out. We aren’t kids anymore. There’s so much about us both that has changed—probably me more than him. He’s still as pretty as I remember but with purple hair and more muscles. He felt a little bigger in other areas too. I wasn’t the only one enjoying all the places he kept putting his hands.

I knew we’d have to face each other again eventually, but I didn’t want it to be this way. I also didn’t plan on being one of his dad’s prospects, doing all the shit I swore I’d never do, but life had other plans. My mom never stopped owing creditors, and I couldn’t let my little brother fall down the wrong path like I did due to lack of options. He’s going to college and getting out of that shit town we grew up in if it’s the last thing I help him do.

“Fuck, I’m starving.” Mitch shakes me out of my thoughts, running a hand through his red hair as we follow a waitress to a table in the back of the diner.

“I told you not to skip breakfast,” Vance mutters, lowering himself into one of the chairs.

“Yeah, because I always listen when you talk,” Mitch breathes out, sitting across the way. I end up next to Oakley, scooting my chair so close our knees knock together. Tensing up, he sucks in a breath and I bite back a smile, lifting my menu.

“Ignore these two. They fight like an old married couple,” I say.

“You three always work so closely together?”

Wrapping his thick fingers around his water, Mitch searches each of our eyes. “Only when it’s needed.”

“And is it this time?” Oakley’s hands shake under the table. Why is he so damn scared? I hate seeing him like this around me. There was a time when we were each other’s safe space, and this is just more proof of me ruining that. It all started with me waking up to him jerking off beside me, and I let our friendship suffer from there. It wasn’t because I was mad or didn’t like what I saw. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time. It was just the first and only time he caught me looking at him.

I didn’t know what I wanted then and was scared to say or do the wrong thing. The next morning, I couldn’t look at him because every time I did I saw his eyes rolling back and his mouth wrapping around a moan. Keeping my gaze elsewhere was the only way to stop myself from getting a stiffy.

“It was an accident,” he’d said to me when he walked me back home. “I was asleep and I guess I was dreaming. It wasn’t because of you or anything.”

That was when my heart fell and I finally realized I wanted it to be because of me. It was hard to face him after learning how I felt about him and that he didn’t feel the same. I did it anyway, but then I woke up to him masturbating again. The last time, he was sitting on top of me, eyes closed and hips thrusting upward. Only his pants and underwear were off and it was so fucking hard not to touch him.

I let him finish instead of waking him up. After gathering his cum from my stomach, I rushed to the bathroom and instead of washing it off in the sink like a normal person, I licked it off my fingers while fucking my fist. I felt ashamed of myself after that and avoided him until he left for college. I’m not sure which of my actions was worse, and if he’d ever forgive me for either.

“It is because your dad says so,” I finally respond, needing a break from my own head.

“I guess that’s that, then.” Oakley doesn’t meet my eyes.

“You’ll know more when your old man explains it to you,” Mitch says.

Interrupting us, the waitress comes to take our order and we all get food, except Oakley. He used to get like this when he was nervous or scared. He couldn’t eat or sit still. If I took him in my arms, would he feel better like he used to? Or would he push me away because he sees me as nothing but a stranger now?

Neither of us talk again, finishing our food and drinking in silence. Oakley downs two root beers back to back, and when it’s time to leave I stay behind so he can empty his bladder. The fewer stops we make, the better. Once outside and away from others, I call his dad, but before I can hand over the phone to Oakley, he says, “Change of plans.”

My hand pauses on the handle of my bike and I look back at Vance, wondering if he can read my expression. His clenching jaw tells me he does, and I tighten my hold on the phone.

“I’m listening.”

“Good, because you won’t be coming here after all. It’s not safe.”

“Where to then?”

“Somewhere I don’t know about. A hotel, a friend’s house. It doesn’t matter as long as no one here has heard about it. I need y’all to hang low until I tell you the threat has been handled.” His breaths quicken.

“I’m sure we can figure it out between the three of us.”

“Whatever you do, figure it out soon. The sooner you’re off the road, the better. If these men think they can get to my son more easily than me, they will.”

“He’s safe with us, I promise. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s disappearing when I need to,” I say firmly.

“Good, because that’s exactly what you need to do right now. If anything happens to him, you’ll end up having to do it again, except it’ll be me you’re hiding from. And nothing is ever too hard for me to find.” His tone is hard and sinister.

Before I can respond, the call ends. He hung up. A knot forms in my throat as I slide my phone into my back pocket.

“What did he say?” Mitch walks closer.

“We need to go hang low somewhere. Taking him home to his dad is no longer an option. Not right now.”

“Where the hell are we supposed to do that?” Vance bites out.

“I have an idea,” Oakley offers. “My mom’s cabin she inherited from my grandma. No one knows about it but us. She doesn’t have any other family and never takes anyone there but me. She was always too scared to reveal the location to anyone, in case it got back to people my dad knew and there came a time we needed to run somewhere safe.”

My eyes widen in interest and the others listen quietly. “Where is it?”

He rubs the back of his head, looking around. “About five hours north of here.”

“Alright.” I scrub my jaw. “Give me the address and I’ll lead the way.”

“We aren’t seriously driving five hours straight on bikes when it’s nearly dark, are we?” Mitch says, lifting his eyebrows.

“We’ve been riding for hours today as it is, and I can barely keep my eyes open,” Vance complains.

“Yeah, alright.” I sigh. “We’ll stop at a motel in the next town.”

We all hop on our bikes and Oakley hesitates before climbing on behind me. Helmet on and strapped tightly under his chin, he wraps his arms around me, gripping tighter when I take off. Pressing closer to me, his body folds around mine, and I go faster to keep him this way the whole ride.

All the shifting he does behind me, and the random placement of his hands when I turn, makes it hard for my cock not to take notice. His boner keeps rubbing over the top of my ass and lower back. I’ve never taken it up the ass before but I can definitely picture myself bending over for Oakley. Whatever lands me a chance to have him naked in bed again.

He was asleep, you asshole .

It’s not like he meant to take his clothes off and rub his bare ass over my crotch as he came all over me. Does he still do that stuff in his sleep? I better get him a room to himself to be safe. At least his own bed.

An hour later, we pull up to a motel in the middle of nowhere, grabbing two rooms that link together. I get us checked in, using cash so I don’t leave behind a trail. Based on all the vacancies, the woman at the front desk isn’t in any position to turn me away. After grabbing the two key cards, I head outside and hand one to Vance. “For you and the princess there.” I point to Mitch.

He snatches the card from my hand, climbing off his bike with a low grunt before heading inside the room. Mitch follows behind him, glancing between me and my own little princess with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He doesn’t think I can behave myself, does he? I’d like to think I have more self-control than him. Oakley walks in first when I open the other door, his tight pants hugging his perky ass in all the right places. Well, at least I normally have no issues keeping my hands to myself when I need to.

My skin buzzes when my arm rubs over his as I enter the room. I shut the door and toss my bag on the desk but Oakley holds his backpack close to him, looking around. “It might be more sanitary to sleep on the picnic table I saw outside.”

I sputter a laugh, opening the joining door when there’s a knock. Vance is standing in front of me—handing me a condom—and I shove him away, shooting him a glare. His eyes gleam and he smiles. “Better safe than sorry.” He slides it into my pocket as Oakley heads for the bathroom making more disgusted sounds.

“He’s definitely way more of a princess than me,” Mitch quips.

“Way prettier too,” Vance adds.

“This is strictly business and not the time to mix in pleasure.”

“It’s never stopped us before.” Vance grabs my package, squeezing gently, and I suck in a breath. He’s right. That ship has definitely sailed when it comes to the rest of us. It can’t happen with Oakley, though. I promised his dad nothing bad would come to him, and we are definitely nothing good.

“As long as he’s with us, it has to.”

Spinning around, Mitch sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Since when did you become such a fucking by-the-book guy, huh?”

“Since he’s had something to be possessive over,” Vance says almost too loudly.

I shove at his chest, shushing him. “Fucking hell. You two can’t behave for one damn night.”

“And you’re only making it harder by being a major cock block. What if he’s exactly what we’ve been looking for all this time?”

“He’s not,” I huff out, looking around me, not believing my own words.

“The perfect lock to every key here.” Mitch purses his lips, sitting back on one of the queen beds in his room.

I walk closer to him, shaking my head. “He’s a job and that’s all.”

“If you say so.” Mitch lays back on the mattress, folding his arms behind his head.

“Sounds like someone wants him all to themselves,” Vance says.

“His dad would kill us if we touched so much as a single inch of his body.”

“He can always be the one to do the touching first. Maybe with his mouth.” Vance licks his lips and Mitch laughs.

“I’m going to bed,” I say, turning around and nearly crashing into Oakley on the way back into my room.

“I…You care if I take a shower? I smell like a motorcycle gang.”

I laugh, tugging off my jacket. “Go for it.” I kick off my boots and his eyes rake over my body as I lift my shirt over my head.

“I never took you for a tattoo guy.”

“Yeah, well, people change. And I’m never in one place long enough to keep a scrapbook,” I deadpan.

That earns me a small smile and I can’t stop the flutter from rising inside me.

“Some things apparently stay the same too. You’ve always been super sentimental.” Oakley slides his fingers over my side, touching the bright ink and I shiver. Yeah, my want for him definitely hasn’t lessened. Too bad I can only get him to return those feelings when he has his eyes closed. Or can I even have that anymore? What am I thinking? I can’t allow that either.

I glance down at his moving hand and wrap my fingers around his wrist. “It was our favorite arcade when we were kids.”

Using his other hand, he presses it to my chest. “Is this the traffic sign we stole when we got super wasted on prom night?”

“It is.”

I suck in a breath when he trails his fingers between my pecs and brushes the tips over my belly. “The bridge we used to hang out on when we wanted to escape our parents and everyone else.”

With his wrist still in my hand, I grab his other hand and step away. “That’s enough of taking a trip down memory lane. Go get washed up and let’s get some sleep.” I release my hold on him, yanking my belt from the loops.

“Yeah.” His bottom lip trembles. “I uh…will get on that. It’s good to be sharing a room again. I’ve missed our sleepovers.”

My lips press together and I ignore the warmth surrounding my heart. “Good thing you’ll get your fill this week, then. Night, Oakley.”

“Night.” He turns around and slowly makes his way to the bathroom. As soon as the door shuts, I drop my jeans and crawl under the stiff covers on the hotel bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I count cracks, drifting off to the TV playing in the other room—the loud voices mixing with Mitch’s snoring.