One thousand three hundred fifty-six sheep and still no sleep. As always, I’m diligent with the task at hand. I would have been an excellent shepherd. I’m a great insomniac too. You would think that after having not slept for three nights, I would crash at some point. Guess I slept just enough to have a brain half functioning.
But tonight, what’s keeping me up isn’t as much my thoughts and worries but the symphony of moans and grunts coming from the rooms of two oversexualized couples. I’m glad Emma and Asher aren’t on the same floor as us, but this is the last time I sleep in any bedroom upstairs. I will torture my sister and nephew to no end if they ever again take the downstairs bedroom and let me sleep in the bedroom between the Porter siblings.
Tomorrow morning is the reading of my father’s will, and I would prefer to be rested in case I have to come head-to-head with Clay. My brother needs money, and he might not get any. I’m not sure what my father planned, but our last conversations weren’t in Clay’s favor. However, as Clay got some last words of wisdom and I didn’t, anything can happen.
All I know is that I’m my father’s executor. He asked me so Ellen wouldn’t have to worry about anything. For the rest, I’m not sure what to expect. Emma and Asher should get a good share of the Crawford fortune. They’re both so young, it would certainly help. As for me, I don’t need anything. All I would like are a few sentimental things. I already have more money than I could ever use, and I don’t plan on having any children.
We’ll also receive the results of the genetic tests tomorrow. My father died from a sudden cardiac arrest after his heart was weakened from stress. But it seems he also suffered from Brugada syndrome, a genetic heart disorder that creeps up without any symptoms. Emma, Asher, Clay, and I did an ECG and other tests to find out if we have it too. If we do, it seems it’s easy to live with, especially once they implant a device to help regulate your heart. I’m not too worried, but I’m not thrilled either.
Add to that the sexfest of the Porter & Co siblings and I can’t sleep to save my life. How can they not hear each other? Ian should lose his erection from hearing his sister moaning and screaming a man’s name. I wonder if I should bang on the walls. But who am I to stop people from getting any? I’m an asshole but not a repressive one.
Instead, I make my way to the kitchen for a shot of whatever I can find. After rummaging through the cupboards, I settle on rum. I take the first sip, letting the burnt sugar and spices twirl on my tongue. It tastes like a tropical storm spreading sunshine inside my mouth. It tastes like Los Angeles’s most talented and sexiest tattoo artist.
Of course, everything makes me think of Luke these days. I’ve noticed how he’s been silently supporting me. I see how he looks at me, and until yesterday, I hoped it was because he wanted me, not because he pitied me. Now I’m not so sure anymore. They all think I’m broken, and in a way, they might be right. A part of me doesn’t care anymore, a tiny part that knows it can’t be fixed.
Luke is still in a relationship with a man who’s exactly what he needs. My stomach rolls at that thought, and I pour a second glass of rum. I drink it straight, the alcohol hitting my brain faster but not soothing my ache. I’ve lost my chance with Luke, but I’m also afraid to really take one.
The whole Scooby-Doo gang told me I should be a little more selfish. That I should forget about them and focus on what I want to do instead of fixing everybody else’s problems. They say so, but as soon as we’re back in LA, they’ll be calling me with every little hitch, and I’ll do whatever it takes for them to be happy. Not because I care but because their lives are how they are today because of me. I was the one holding the first bag of coke to Virginia’s nose, and that started a chain of events I’m responsible for. Ian decided to be an actor so he could learn to control his emotions after Virginia ran away. Because I couldn’t be there for him and lie to his face at the same time. And Ryan… well… if I had paid even slight attention to him, I could have helped him before he spiraled down. Asher and Emma will always be my responsibility.
It’s not a “poor Dex has the weight of the world on his shoulders” complaint. It’s my reality. I don’t really help them because I care but because I owe them. Because for all I know, Ian could have been the doctor he always wanted to be or Virginia could have become the architect she was meant to be before I fucked it all up.
The only one I truly care about now is Luke. When he stood up to my mother yesterday, I wanted to ravage him. I followed them outside with tears in my eyes because it was the first time someone other than my father had taken my side against her, but I also had a dick as hard as titanium because seeing Luke doing so was hot as fuck.
I need to have him. I need him to be mine, because I know better than to believe I can go through this shit on my own. Nobody could. Even Ian and Ry found someone to shoulder them. If those two grunters hadn’t chased who they wanted, they wouldn’t be handing out orgasms right now. Maybe I have a few things to learn from Ian and Ryan.
As terrifying as that thought is, it’s time to show Luke he’s the only one I can stand. Maybe it’s the two rums I gulped, but I find myself polishing my new pair of balls with sudden confidence while I make my way to Luke’s bedroom at the end of the corridor.
He’s asleep, of course, because nothing ever comes between this man and his sleep, and he looks delicious with the soft light of the moon on his face. His perfect lips are calling me, and without doubting my actions, I move closer to the bed. I bring my mouth to his and leave a chaste kiss on his lips as if he’s freaking Sleeping Beauty. But he doesn’t move. It’s better this way. I don’t want him to know I took something that wasn’t mine to take. Not because I think I’m not worthy of taking it but because I would prefer him to give it to me willingly.
I slip under the covers and nestle myself against him. We’re spooning for the first time. I never let him hold me in this position before. We fit like two pieces of a puzzle, like the puzzle pieces that took me hours to find when I was a kid because I couldn’t believe they would be a perfect match.
Feeling my presence, Luke opens his arms and drags me closer, our bodies melting into one another. “Sleep, babe,” he whispers while his hands rest on my abdomen.
Bringing my hands on top of his, I interlock our fingers, and with my heart pounding as if I was truly alive, I finally fall asleep.
* * *
I awaken to a cold, empty bed in the middle of the night. I don’t know how long I’ve been alone, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s not a good sign. Why would he have deserted the bed if he wanted to be with me? I might have royally fucked up the only true connection I’ve ever had.
Coming to his bed and falling asleep in his arms was selfish of me. I can clear the air tomorrow morning and apologize, put it on the rum and try to move forward again. I’ll explain that I needed to sleep and he’s the only one who could bring me comfort, and I’m sorry if I made him uncomfortable. I’m about to leave the bed when I hear his voice coming from a dark corner of the bedroom.
“I’m here.”
I can’t move. My whole body is frozen. Not only did I come into his bed uninvited, but I’m now sneaking out like a criminal.