Getting Him Back (13 page)

I locked my fingers with his and started pumping again. Nosing his hair off his neck, I buried my face in his sweat and his skin as the climb started again.

I couldn’t help the words spilling from my lips. Maybe he wouldn’t hear me. “Good. So good. God, you feel good on me, Wyatt.”

Then I was there, my balls tight, pouring out through my dick, body helpless through the spasms of pleasure as I shot deep inside him. The aftershocks bounced along my nerves, forcing another grunt from my mouth and a jerk of my hips. When my dick couldn’t pump anymore, I slumped on top of him.

My body was so heavy I wasn’t sure I could move it, but Wyatt twisted and half shifted me off and into the wall. I wanted to stay awake and make sure he didn’t take off again, but it was going to have to wait a few minutes.

I wasn’t sure if I imagined him saying, “Poor, Ethan, your brain really is connected to your balls, isn’t it?”

I’d have made some sarcastic remark about how he didn’t know what “no talking meant,” but I was passed out.

I don’t think I was out for long when my text alert woke me up. Wyatt was still in my bed and—the back of my neck burned against the cold wall—my dick was still inside him.

“Sorry.” I whispered and tried to gently shift out of him.

He pulled his hips away, but his back still pressed into my chest. “Does that happen every time? You fall asleep after you come?”

“Only when I fuck you.” I said it without thinking and then snapped my teeth together to keep anything else stupid locked up.

The text alert went off again.

“Gonna get that?”

At least Wyatt didn’t comment on my admission.

“No.” The world could fuck off. My
special
one and everyone else’s. But I did sit up enough to find the towel under my bed and wipe the come and lube off both of us. Well, I started to wipe at Wyatt and he yanked the towel away from me, finishing himself. He looked around with the towel in his hand.

“Throw it anywhere.”

He did, then frowned.

I thought of his weird mood when he’d come in. “Everything okay?”

“Fine, Ethan.” He said my name like a curse, jaw pointing at me.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He looked down. “But—I—uh—I feel kind of gross.”

“Oh.” Then I got what he was saying. “
Oh
.”

I climbed over him to get to the floor and grabbed my robe from the hook in my closet. “Here.”

“Thanks. Be right back.”

After the door shut behind him, I grabbed my jeans off the floor and found my phone.

Makayla had sent me two texts.

At party. Heard soccer team lost. 4-0.

Ouch.

If you’re still interested, he’s prolly super needy and desperate.

Thanks a fucking lot. I sent back.

She responded with an emoji of pinched eyes and a tongue sticking out.

I rolled my eyes and shut off the sound.

I’m sure Blake
was
super needy. He’d never had a game that bad in high school. But what he needed was no longer my problem. I had a feeling Wyatt, who would probably die rather than admit it, needed me more.

At least Makayla hadn’t been around to hear what Wyatt had needed half an hour ago.

I spread a towel from my laundry over the wet spot so no one would skid off the bed, and dropped the phone on top of the crate that doubled as a nightstand.

Wyatt came back in and stood hesitantly near my closet. “What should I do with—”

“Lock the door and get in bed.”

He stared at me for a second, then dropped the robe and flipped off the lights. I still wasn’t sure if he was going to grab his clothes and go until he put his knee on the mattress. I scooted against the wall to make room for him.

His skin was damp and I wrapped myself around him.

He shivered a little. “I don’t know if I can do anything right now.”

A quick laugh slipped out. “I sure as hell can’t.”

“So what do you want?”

I furrowed my brow. What did he think I wanted? To hold him. Kiss him. Talk a little and find out what life had been like in Van, West Virginia, population two hundred if you include the raccoons. I rubbed my face against his shoulder to get some of his hair off my eyes and mouth.

“What’s your world like?”

He shifted around to face me. “What the fuck does that mean?” He didn’t sound mad, just confused.

“You said things are simple in my world. So what’s it like in your world?”

“It sucks.” He didn’t look at me.

“Why?”

Now he stared back and I had to admit I got why he kept one eye covered. It was unnerving in the dark, that one eye picking up a bit more light. I held his gaze.

“So what, I tell you and you fix it for me? Not going to happen,” he said at last.

I wondered which part wasn’t going to happen more.

“Were people assholes to you because of your...eyes?” The medical name sounded too harsh to use then. Like it was something wrong with him. But I’d looked it up. It wasn’t a disease, only genetics.

“Just a bit, yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, now I’m all better. Thanks, Ethan. You fixed it.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Fuck you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. What do you like to talk about? What’s your major?”

He dropped onto his back. “Jesus, just fuck me again.”

I started to snap back,
Maybe he could
,
but I can’t right now
, but I didn’t get any further than
Mmm
before he kissed me. And my dick wasn’t ready to play but damn, I loved the way Wyatt kissed.

He drew back. “Engineering.”

The word whispered right next to my lips like something perfectly dirty except it wasn’t. I wondered if maybe I was the one with static in my ear. “Huh?”

“My major.”

“Oh.”

The light from under the door was just enough to pick up his smile. “What’s yours?”

“Um—I’m not sure. I thought about teaching elementary school.”

He shook his head like that was the dumbest idea he’d heard.

“What? For all you know I’m great with kids.”

“Are you?” he challenged.

I honestly had no idea. I didn’t have any siblings. Cousins at family events were annoying but that was family. “I could be.”

He laughed, then rested his forehead against mine. “I think you should go pre-law. You’re certainly good at arguing that things should be your way.”

This was that Ethan’s Special World thing again. I was trying hard to not be all defensive but Wyatt didn’t make it easy. “What does that mean?”

“It’s not always a bad thing.” He must have been talking to Makayla.

“It’s not like I showed up at your room asking to fuck.”

He rolled away. “I should go.”

I should let him go back and deal with a roommate who would be moping and miserable. But I didn’t. “I don’t recommend it.” I reached over him to grab my phone, swiped it open and enlarged Makayla’s text. Not the one about needy Blake, the one about the loss and handed it to Wyatt.

“Shit. This was supposed to be an easy game. He talks enough after a win.” He dropped the phone between us. “And that’s exactly what I mean.”

I might not have been a fine arts major but I knew a metaphor when I saw one. I also knew it would be hard to argue a negative, to convince him I wasn’t interested in Blake anymore. I’d argue the positive. I grabbed his head and kissed him. He kissed me back, the way he always did, all out. Tongue, lips, him. Nothing distracted or impatient. Like he’d be willing to stroke his tongue against mine, to share breath with me all night.

Things below the belt were starting to come back on line, a buzz in my balls, a just-on-the-sweet-side-of-painful pulse in my dick. His hand slid down my back and dragged me closer.

The pound of a fist on my door jerked us apart.

“Ethan. C’mon. Stop being a dick and talk to me.” It was Blake.

Chapter 12

I shook my head at Wyatt, found his right ear and whispered. “I blocked him on my phone, I swear to God.”

Wyatt just lay there, watching me. I needed him to believe me.

“He did text me, that night you came by on your work break, but I never met him. I blocked him that night.”

Wyatt stared. I hoped like hell he could read the truth in my face. Finally, he gave me a tight nod.

Blake pounded again. “If you’re in there, Ethan, you better know I’m going to sit out here all night. One way or another you’re going to have to talk to me.”

“Fucking asshole. I’ll get rid of him.” I muttered, then I dragged myself off the bed and hauled on my discarded jeans. My semi-interested dick had shrunk during the interruption. That more than anything should have told Wyatt how I felt about Blake. Even without standing at attention, my dick was still sensitive enough to protest being stuffed into jeans.

As I approached the door, I thought about shutting it behind me, but I decided to leave it open. I wanted Wyatt to hear everything I said.

I opened the door a crack. Blake scrambled up. The bastard had been sitting outside the door.

“I knew you were in there.”

Right because what else would I be doing on a Friday?
“What do you want?”

He tipped his head down, and a wave of his perfect auburn hair fell on his forehead. He looked up at me through his lashes. “I blew the game tonight. Maybe the whole season. I was a fucking sieve on the line.”

“Sorry.” I did feel sorry for him. I knew I wasn’t in love with him anymore, but I’d probably always feel something for him and I knew this was hard for him.

“Can I come in?” He stepped forward like my answer was a given.

“No.”

“C’mon. I’ve apologized a bunch of times. You even blocked my calls. Isn’t that enough punishment?”

“That’s not what this is. It’s just...over.”

“So you’re with someone else now?”

Okay. Maybe leaving the door open so Wyatt could hear was a bad idea. I didn’t know exactly how to answer that. I didn’t know what was going on between me and Wyatt. I knew I wanted to keep seeing him, but I didn’t know how he would take it if I said I was dating him.

I fell back on the clichéd truth. “It’s complicated.” Was that an understatement or what?

“Ethe.” Blake reached for my jaw, and I jerked back.

There was real hurt in his eyes and I was sorry for it. He put both his hands on top of his head and interlaced them. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He slid his hands onto his neck and finally dropped them to his sides.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t only come here because of the game.”

I didn’t buy that bullshit for a minute but I let him talk.

He leaned a hand on my door and I wedged a foot behind it to keep it from swinging open any wider. Maybe I should have shut the door, but I stupidly thought if I just let him spit it out, he’d go away.

He leaned toward me. “Let me explain, okay?” Without waiting for me to agree, he rushed on. “You were always talking about the future, how we were going to live and what we were going to do and last summer, it felt like I was suffocating. And when I got back here, things were better until I remembered you were coming and you’d be all over me and start it up again.”

It wasn’t a very flattering image he was painting, but I saw the resemblance and it made my gut churn. I hoped like hell that wasn’t how Wyatt saw me.

But it didn’t excuse what Blake had done. “You know what would have been good, then? You saying something like ‘back off’ instead of fucking me over.”

“I know, babe. I’m sorry.”

He leaned closer like he was about to kiss me, and I practically limboed out of the way. Not fast enough though. His nose wrinkled, then his eyes narrowed.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, from an awesome wet dream you weren’t in so excuse me while I get back to it.” I pushed the door closed but it was too late. He shoved the door in, the bottom edge digging into my bare foot. I jumped back and then tried to use my arms to keep him out, but I wasn’t doing a hundred push-ups a day or whatever he did.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Him?”

The light spilling in from the hall was more than enough for us both to see Wyatt as he yanked his hoodie down over his head.

I suddenly wished my door-shaped roommate, Connor, was here.

“Christ, Reese, I told you he was good at sucking dick but I didn’t think
you’d
be interested.”

My knees weren’t working right, and I fell back into Connor’s desk chair. I’d been nauseated by the idea of them talking about how clingy I was, but I didn’t believe they actually did. Damned if I was going back to being Pathetic Ethan though. “God, Blake, did you put it on a billboard? No wonder I’ve got guys lining up at the door. I barely have time to study.”

Blake turned on me. “What the hell are you doing with him?”

I pushed back to my feet to face him. “Was I supposed to send you pictures? A diagram?”

“Fine. Laugh about it. Do you know anything about him?”

“Are you my father now?”

“No, but if you brought him home he’d probably steal your father’s baseball collection.”

Blake was totally ranting. I glanced at Wyatt. I could use a little confirmation of the my-ex-boyfriend-has-lost-his-mind feeling. But Wyatt had retreated under the hood and his hair, shoulders hunched.

Blake flung an arm in Wyatt’s direction. Maybe if Blake had been better at flinging himself around earlier they wouldn’t have lost the game. “Didn’t he tell you he’s a felon? He was locked up for two years for theft.”

Wyatt darted between us and disappeared out the door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled at Blake.

“I’m not the one sucking off some guy who probably has diseases from how many times he got raped in prison.”

“How did I date you for two years and never realize what an asshole you are? Get out. And don’t come anywhere near me. Or him.”

Blake laughed. “He’s my fucking roommate. That’s going to be a little tricky, don’t you think?”

I had never wanted to punch anyone so bad in my entire life. I grabbed his arm and shoved him at the door. “Go.”

I grabbed my key and took off after Wyatt.