“Mom left me them. I’m sorry if you wanted some,” I frowned, wondering why they were sad.
“Ah, baby brother…” Fresh tears leaking down Brighton’s cherub face.
“Sit,” Tyson let out, his face withdrawn,
They brought me to the couch, me between them.
“Hey, buddy. You know when people get hurt and they sometime don’t come home?”
Ty’s question made me think about how our grandparents told him it happened to Jay, his dog. Jay had been such a good dog until that guy ran him over.
“Yeah, they go to heaven,” I squeaked.
“Mom and Dad went to heaven last night. We were supposed to go too, but they decided to let us stay home and watch movies.”
“No!” I cried, I didn’t understand the pain. How could someone leave and never come back?
The pain to this very moment was as fresh as a warm slice of bread. It burned deep within me, burrowing a hole of heartache and little memories.
The sweat-filled bed didn’t bring me comfort, so it was easy enough to leave it behind. The water from the shower pelted my skin, and I leaned against the wall. Rebel was gone. So were my parents, and my siblings never spoke to me.
I couldn’t blame them, I pushed them away when leaving this place behind for my career.
My life was messy and painful, but BMX always saved me. It would always be the safe haven I escaped to. There would be a new tournament, and maybe it’d save me once again and bring back the happiness I’d been missing.
After the water cooled, I escaped the spray to dry off. The towel hung on my waist, low to where my hips peeked through. As I trailed off toward the room, the doorbell dinged. I waited for Conor to answer it, but he didn't. It would be rude to ignore whoever it was. Instead of dressing, I gripped the towel and headed to the front door.
Peering through the peephole, I saw her. My stomach dropped from the memories, but my heart raced from her presence. This was my opportunity to apologize for being a prick.
Jarring it open, I waved her in. She stood there, her eyes briefly meeting mine. Her gaze then traveled my body, Gawking at my shoulder tattoo.
“You done fucking me with your eyes?” The joke slipped through. It felt so damn good to smile, and the redness on her cheeks and neck made it even better. I winked at her, giving her my classic panty-melting smirk.
“I-I, uh,” she stammered, staring at her converses.
“If looks could undress…” I chuckled at her embarrassment.
“Coen, you should get dressed, I cannot form an intelligible sentence when you are like this.” Her voice was breathy and airy. The way she lifted her chest and squeezed her hands closed proved how aroused she was.
My cock hardened, and maybe if I had a sense in me, I’d be self-conscious, but I wasn’t.
“I believe watching you squirm is too fucking satisfying to stop.” Maybe if I were a better man, I’d give her slack and get dressed, but the way she bit her lip only made me more selfish.
“Can I come in at least?” She glanced away from my hardened friend.
“I tried waving you in.” My lip twitched as I fought a smile.
She sashayed her ass with confidence, sticking her tongue out over her shoulder. If she kept playing this game with me, I’d have to take her to my bed and never look back.
Rebel sat on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, “Is Conor here?” She peered over my shoulder, wonder in her eyes.
“I’m guessing no since he didn’t answer the door. Or he’s being an ass because of last night.”
“What happened?” she asked as if she didn’t remember what went on.
“I had a not-so-secret affair with Captain Morgan.” I looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
Rebel knew my life story. We'd shared everything up until she left me.
The couch I sat on dipped, and a hand gripped my shoulder. “This would seem a lot less perverted if you had clothes on.” She giggled. Her face lit up, reaching her eyes.
“Thought nothing of it until you mentioned it, but you could never hold your tongue.” I’d say it was just me, but it got hotter with her body so close and only a towel covering me.
As if Rebel sensed it, her hand caressed my jaw in wonderment. What was she thinking about?
Caressed? What kind of man thinks of that word?
Without gripping my towel, I turned in her direction. I felt it fall away long before her gaze traveled down, her face reddening with each passing second.
She gripped me gently. Call it bravery or straightforward lust but the touch of her skin on my rock-solid cock elicited a groan from me. We locked stares, and I drew her face breaths away from mine.
Right as my lips brushed hers, Conor walked in. His hand covered his face, and he grunted.
“Put your dick away, man.” His disapproval reminded of me how I treated her last night.
“Fuck,” slipped from my lips, and regret filled me.
“I should go.” Rebel shuffled off the couch.
Placing my palm of her waist, gripping it gently, I stopped her. She couldn’t leave.
“Don’t leave,” Conor rebutted before I could. “I’ve missed my Red Rebel.”
“I’m going to get dressed. I’ll be back soon.” I sprinted to my room. This was the first time in my life I put on my clothes before getting some pussy. How things change.
In a hurried pace, I slipped on boxers, sweats, a t-shirt, and socks. By the time I was back, they were laughing like the old friends they were.
“I knew that guy was a worthless piece of shit. I’ve had gum more loyal than him,” Conor joked. He chortled while scowling. It was fucking hilarious.
“I didn’t even know her name. I called her Becky with the nice hair,” Rebel jested.
My lips parted, and I joined in on the laughs.
“Her name is Felicity,” I confirmed.
The way Conor raised his eyebrow and barely shook his head made me realize my mistake. Rebel appeared berated as if it were my fault Carl slept with her. Under certain circumstances, I could almost imagine why she believed it, but I’d never betray her.
“How?” it was all she could muster, her face contorting in pain.
“She cheated on me with him.” The confirmation only made me realize I’d lost someone I believed was special and gained someone who meant the world to me.
“I’m so sorry, Coen. They obviously didn’t know what good sex is.”
“Apparently not,” I said. “But, maybe you’ll find out how good it really is.”
8
Mr. Sexy – Coen
Author Dating Rule #553: Tell me sweet nothings and my panties magically disappear.
Rebel
Everything went great until Conor snuck in. I’ve never felt more like a teenager than in that very moment with my hands in places they shouldn’t be. There were so many things I wanted to do to Coen, and none happened. He was rock hard underneath me, and when his eyes begged me to touch him, it was by far the sexiest I’d felt.
So, I gave in.
I’d thought nothing in the world could stop the moment from happening. Conor proved me wrong. It was nice seeing him. It’d been years, and I missed our Wednesday bowling nights. He always won, but it didn’t make it any less of a thrill to hit a strike when I gutter-balled all the other ones.