Speechless (Pier 70 #3) (13 page)

Sixteen

Tuesday, July 19
th

TEAGUE WOKE UP the following morning to the sun shining in his eyes and a warm body pressed against him. It took a moment for him to figure out where he was and who he was with.

Then it hit him.

He had fallen asleep on Hudson’s couch last night. He remembered them talking, remembered how tired he’d been.

Shit.

Doing his best not to wake Hudson, Teague untangled himself from the giant, warm body and slipped off the couch. He grabbed his phone and left the apartment, careful not to make any sound. By the time he opened his front door, directly across the hall, he was breathing hard. Something a hell of a lot like panic had taken control of his respiratory system in the last few seconds. He couldn’t breathe and he didn’t know why.

Closing the door, he leaned against it, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly.

“Chill the fuck out,” he commanded, talking to the empty room.

He had slept on Hudson’s couch. So what? It didn’t mean a damn thing. He was still fully dressed, so obviously nothing had happened. And it wasn’t like they’d been in Hudson’s bed or anything.

“Fuck.”

This was not a good feeling.

Teague tried to rationalize it all, but it wouldn’t matter. He had promised himself he would never feel comfortable with someone enough to sleep with them—on a couch, a bed, the floor … it didn’t matter. Up to this point in his life, he had never spent the night with a guy, and he’d never allowed one to spend the night with him. Hell, he’d never even had sex in someone’s bed, or his own. Not one single time. And he knew that for a fact because he’d made a point not to.

“Shit.” Teague bent over, trying to catch his breath. This had happened before—the full-on panic attack—and he knew he needed to relax, to get his mind on something else.

Nope, not one time had he been in some dude’s bed. Sex standing up, sex in the shower, sex on the couch, sure. In a truck, car, on a boat, on a desk, in a fucking bathroom stall… He’d probably had sex in every conceivable place, but
never
on a bed.

As far as he was concerned, spending the night at their place was just as intimate as sex on the bed.

Stupid.

His legs gave out, and he slid down to the floor, holding his knees to his chest as he tried to calm down. There was nothing wrong with what he’d done. So what if he slept curled up against Hudson? That didn’t mean a damn thing. He wasn’t getting attached. Fuck, they hadn’t even had sex yet.

Teague swallowed hard, dropping his head back against the door with a thud.

Hudson was his … friend.

That was the simplest way to explain it, even if the idea of actually having a friend scared the life out of him.

Regardless, that was all they were. Friends.

And Hudson had fed him. Teague had already been exhausted when he’d come home, and the food only exacerbated that. That was the only reason it had happened. There was nothing to worry about. He definitely wasn’t getting attached to the guy.

“Nope. No way.”

This was stupid. He was better than this. Stronger than this. He did not fall apart because of some stupid guy. He wasn’t like his mother.

Forcing himself to his feet, Teague grabbed hold of the anger, latching on to it. He needed the reminder that he was meant to be alone in this world. Since it was clear Hudson had no intention of fucking him, Teague would have to move on. He was tired of the games, tired of the bullshit, tired of…

He wasn’t going to allow himself to get any closer to Hudson. That wasn’t the deal. He wasn’t looking for a friend. He didn’t need one.

What he needed was to get fucked. And since Hudson was clearly not interested, Teague would find someone who was willing.

And he’d do it tonight.

This shit with Hudson was over, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t have time for the games anymore.

HUDSON SPENT MOST of the day in the shop, working on an old engine that should’ve been tossed in the lake rather than fixed. If it hadn’t been for the old man and his sentiment toward the old boat, Hudson would’ve told the guy as much—figuratively, anyway. Instead, he was a fucking softy, so he’d agreed to do what he could. Now, the damn thing was starting to piss him off.

Or maybe his irritation was due to the fact that Teague was ignoring him. Had been all damn day.

From the moment he’d seen Teague sneaking out of his apartment this morning, Hudson had known that last night had been a mistake. He hadn’t known it at the time, but Teague hadn’t been going home to get ready for work, he had been running from Hudson, running from whatever this was going on between them.

The kid was fit to be tied, grumbling and kicking shit all over the fucking shop. At one point, Hudson had made an attempt to talk to him and got called a giant fucking asshole for his efforts, so he’d given up. He didn’t have time to play these bullshit games. If Teague wanted to be an idiot, if he wanted to act like an immature brat, Hudson would certainly let him.

The sound of a phone ringing had him lifting his head as he glanced across the shop to see Teague grabbing for his phone.

“Yeah, hey. Thanks for calling me back.”

Hudson watched the kid, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t. When Teague noticed, he turned around.

“I know. Sorry about that, by the way. He’s just my neighbor. Thought I’d make it up to you tonight. You and Benny wanna meet at the club?”

Just his neighbor.

Fuck that shit.

Hudson swallowed the rage that threatened to consume him. One freak out and the kid was going back to his old ways. He should’ve expected as much.

“Yeah. Rain sounds perfect. I’ll meet you there around nine, cool?”

Rain. That was a gay nightclub in Austin. Hudson had been there once a long time ago.

“Awesome. Can’t wait. See you then.”

Now the kid was just being a jackass.

Grabbing his phone, Hudson shot a text to AJ.
We’re going to a club tonight. Meet me here at eight.

His brother was quick to respond.
If you’re making me go with you to a gay bar, I hope you know you’re buying the drinks. And you’re driving.

Hudson answered with
Whatever
, then stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He wanted to confront Teague, but part of him wanted to see if the kid would actually go through with it. They had agreed that Teague could back out at any time, and it appeared he was waving the white flag already. Hudson simply wished he knew why.

Okay, he was fairly certain he knew why. Teague had slept at his place last night, wound tightly around him, and Hudson had woken up as Teague was leaving his apartment. Since they’d had a nice night, shared a good meal, even had decent conversation, he could only assume that Teague had freaked out about sleeping with him. Didn’t matter that it’d been completely innocent.

There was no doubt about it, Teague didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t want anyone getting too close, and Hudson knew they were closing the gap between them. More importantly, they hadn’t had sex yet, which was probably putting Teague on edge. Teague needed his get-out-of-jail-free card, and apparently he earned it by getting nailed to the wall, then walking away unscathed.

If Teague wanted to go to the club tonight, fine. Hudson wouldn’t stop him.

However, Teague might not have a problem walking away, but Hudson had a big problem with it. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching Teague in any way, and if it meant he had to interfere to keep that from happening, so be it.

Hudson suspected Teague had never had anyone fight for him. But it was time he learned that there were people willing to do just that.

And Hudson was at the top of that list.

Although half the time he had no fucking clue why that was.

Seventeen

TEAGUE STROLLED INTO the club around nine thirty. Although he’d told Jason to meet him there at nine, everyone knew you had to be fashionably late, otherwise you’d be some guy’s bitch because you looked too damn eager. Teague was no one’s bitch.

He was eager, sure. He was fucking eager to forget about Hudson. He was also determined to put the past few weeks behind him, to move on with his life. He knew the guy had heard him talking on the phone, but Hudson had never brought it up at any point. He’d never once asked Teague what he was doing or why, and that only pissed him off more. And to top it all off, Hudson’s brother had stopped by and they’d left in Hudson’s truck a couple of hours ago, which only went to prove that he didn’t give a shit what Teague did.

Hudson could go fuck himself. Teague didn’t need him.

“Hey, baby, you’re looking mighty damn fine tonight.”

Teague turned around to see Benny smiling like a loon. His eyes were glassy, and it was clear he’d been drinking for a while. His shirt was partially unbuttoned… No, wait. It was off a button, which meant he’d probably already gotten felt up (and probably fucked) by someone at the club.

Great.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Benny offered. “Something to loosen you up for later?”

Teague was tempted, but he opted to hold off for now, so he purposely changed the subject. “Where’s Jason?”

Benny’s white teeth flashed as he grinned. “He couldn’t wait for you any longer. He slipped into the bathroom to get a BJ to take the edge off.”

Teague nodded, briefly wondering why he’d chosen to come here tonight. Usually it wouldn’t bother him that Jason was sword fighting with other guys at the club, but for some reason, he had thought Jason would’ve been able to wait long enough for Teague to show. That’s what this was supposed to be, right? A hookup?

“Come on, sexy. Let’s dance.”

Benny took Teague’s arm and jerked him toward the dance floor. He didn’t resist, hoping that the music would put him in a better mood. It wasn’t long before Benny’s attention was caught by a good-looking black dude wearing a sheer shirt and too-tight jeans. Teague pretended not to notice the way the two of them were grinding against one another, or the fact that he didn’t really give a shit.

He shouldn’t have come here. He should’ve stayed home and…

And what? Watched television? Learned a little more sign language? Waited for Hudson to summon him over so he’d get a hand job to hold him over until…

A warm body pressed up against Teague’s back, the hard ridge of an erection grinding against his ass. Normally, that type of behavior wouldn’t bother him. In fact, he would usually welcome it, driving his ass backward, encouraging whomever it was to give him what he needed. But tonight just wasn’t working for him. Before he could turn around and let the guy down gently, he found himself jerked up against a hard chest, strong arms banding around him.

A familiar scent teased his nostrils, but there was no way that was...

“Dude, I’m here with someone.” Teague tried to pull away. “Chill, man. Can I at least—”

Strong hands gripped his shoulders, spinning him around until he was chest to chest with…

Teague peered up into furious green eyes. He ignored the slight twinge of relief that released some of the tension in his chest.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he yelled, remembering he was pissed at Hudson, he didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

Hudson grabbed Teague’s hand and yanked him off the dance floor and over to the back wall, where there were less people. Not wanting to cause a scene, Teague stumbled along after him, gearing up for the fight of the century.

Teague found himself pressed up against the wall, the giant fucking asshole pinning him in place with his knee between Teague’s thighs and his hands firmly cupping Teague’s face. He couldn’t look away from the angry man staring down at him, no matter how hard he tried. And he certainly tried.

Hudson held him in place for what felt like forever, until finally Teague felt the fight drain right out of him. He stood there, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart. The anger was still there, simmering, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Teague told him, loud enough to be heard over the music.

Hudson merely cocked his head and held him in place with his eyes. It was a look that told Teague he felt the same way. The fact that Teague could read Hudson’s expressions wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

“I’m here with some friends,” he explained, desperate to get away from him. “I’d appreciate if you would let me go.”

Hudson shook his head.

“No?” Teague felt the anger bubbling back up. “What? Do you think you can keep me here all fucking night?”

Hudson shook his head again, but Teague had no idea what that meant.

“I’m not playing this game with you anymore. It’s clear you’re toying with me and…” Teague hated the emotion that churned in his chest. He refused to acknowledge it. “I’m not interested anymore, Hudson. That’s all there is to it.”

Hudson’s hands were still on his face, firm but gentle. It was a tender touch, and Teague wanted to hate it, but he didn’t. When Hudson’s thumb brushed over his lips, he bit back the urge to suck it into his mouth, attempt to make this about sex, which it should’ve been about in the first fucking place.

He was done with this shit. He wanted Hudson to go away, to leave him alone.

When Hudson leaned down, his lips a hairsbreadth way, Teague fought to breathe. It wasn’t a lack of oxygen that caused his chest to constrict, it was the need that coursed through him.

He told himself it was because he hadn’t been fucked in too long. Hudson had teased him for weeks, but never had he given him what he needed. Teague was no longer interested. He was ready to move on.

Unfortunately, as he continued to breathe in slowly, he realized, just like everything else he’d told himself tonight … that was also a lie.

HUDSON HAD BEEN lurking in the shadows when he’d seen Teague walk in the club doors a short while ago. He’d noticed plenty of heads turned when the kid strutted in as though he owned the place. With his distressed jeans and navy blue button-down, he was casual and cool and so fucking hot Hudson’s dick had immediately perked up. People watched—guys, girls, gay, straight, didn’t matter—eager to get a lingering glimpse of the sexiest man in the room.

He had fully intended to watch from the sidelines, to keep an eye on Teague for a while. He had even gone so far as to decide he would leave when Teague bought his first drink. That had never happened, though, which had caused a measure of relief to flood him. Still, he’d had a hard time staying in one place, wanting to get to Teague before anyone else could.

But then he’d seen Teague talking to the little punk bitch who had been at Teague’s apartment that first night. Benny, he thought his name was. At that point, he couldn’t take anymore. He’d had to intervene, no matter the outcome.

And that was how he’d landed himself right here, cupping Teague’s chin, desperate to kiss him, to let him know that he couldn’t handle him being with anyone but him. He was damn near ready to give Teague whatever he wanted, but Hudson knew that wasn’t how this would go. Even if he didn’t have the overwhelming desire to dominate Teague, to show him that a quick fuck wasn’t what it was all about, he knew that fucking the kid would take them right back where they’d started.

Hudson wasn’t willing to go back there.

But he wasn’t willing to stay here, either.

Pressing a gentle kiss to Teague’s lips, Hudson pulled back, dropping his forehead to Teague’s. They were both breathing hard, both ready to come apart at the seams. Whether it was anger, frustration, or simple lust, they had to tamp it down. Hudson couldn’t allow himself to get out of control. He’d been down that road before, and it never benefited anyone. Over the years, he’d learned how to temper his frustration, to channel it into other ways. He prided himself on that self-control, and he wasn’t going to allow Teague to strip him of it yet.

He grabbed his phone, needing to communicate with Teague with words. He didn’t move away, not giving Teague enough room to bolt while Hudson typed up a message.

I’m leaving. You have two choices. Come with me and give this another chance. Or stay here and run away like you’ve been running your whole fucking life.

A flash of anger ignited in Teague’s eyes as he read the text, but Hudson didn’t care. It was the truth. Regardless of what had happened in Teague’s life to make him the way that he was, he was still running from it. From himself. Hudson needed him to stop running. When shit got tough, when emotions were involved, running wasn’t the answer.

Teague’s reply wasn’t what Hudson expected.

“What do you want me to do?”

Hudson wanted to tell Teague that it wasn’t up to him. It would’ve been the smart answer. On the other hand, he knew Teague needed to feel needed right now, so he went with the truth, sending it via text message so there was no miscommunication.

I want you to come home with me.

“Why?”

Hudson lifted an eyebrow, needing Teague to elaborate.

“Why do you care so much?”

That was easy. He typed his response quickly.
Because you’re worth caring about.

After reading the message, Teague nodded, and for the first time, Hudson realized Teague was fisting his shirt with his free hand. Teague gently tugged on it, as though the words gave him what he needed. Forcing himself to back away, Hudson separated their bodies.

“My truck’s here,” Teague called out to him.

Hudson texted him:
Let’s give your keys to my brother. He’ll take your truck. We’ll take mine.

It probably would’ve been fine to let Teague drive himself home, but Hudson didn’t want to be away from him for that long. He didn’t want to give Teague time to think about all the shit again, to get himself worked up and pissed off. If he wanted to hash it out, he could do so with Hudson beside him.

Ten minutes later, after finding AJ standing by the door, ready to bolt, Hudson was behind the wheel of his truck with Teague in the passenger seat. AJ had reluctantly agreed to take Teague’s truck back to his place tonight and to bring it to the marina before work tomorrow.

Surprisingly, Teague didn’t say a word during the thirty-minute drive back to the marina. He didn’t play on his phone, didn’t mess with the radio station. He sat and stared out the window, a deafening silence filling the truck’s interior.

Once they made it back, Hudson parked and hopped out of the truck at the same time Teague did. He didn’t try to stop Teague when he made a beeline for his apartment; rather, he followed Teague inside before the door could get shut in his face.

Hudson moved over to the arm of the couch and sat, making sure Teague saw that he wasn’t getting comfortable. He didn’t plan to stay for long, but he did want to make sure Teague was okay.

Teague paced the floor, passing by once, twice… On his third time, he stopped and looked at Hudson, his brows furrowed as though he was deep in thought.

“What caused you to be mute?”

That was a question that had been a long time coming, but not one he would’ve predicted for tonight. For some reason, none of the Pier 70 guys had ever asked him that. Then again, a lot of people avoided it. And since it was what it was, Hudson rarely thought much about it.

Hudson signed:
Born this way.

Teague nodded.

Did he understand what Hudson had said? His next question confirmed he had.

“So, you’ve never been able to speak at all?”

Hudson shook his head.

“What caused it?”

Admittedly, most people accepted Hudson’s initial response that he was born this way. Rarely did someone—who was not a medical professional—want to know the reason behind it. Knowing it would be too much to sign, Hudson pulled out his phone.

My vocal cords didn’t develop appropriately, nor did my voice box. I’ve been told that it was simply a gene mutation.

Teague leaned against the wall, his attention bouncing between the phone screen and Hudson’s face.

“So they couldn’t do anything to fix it?”