A Healing Story (Stories Book 3) Read online

  Matthias moves back to my mouth and it’s a hard kiss. Full of teeth and dueling tongues as we both try to take control.

  My legs lock around his hips and I shamelessly grind myself against him.

  The bathroom door bangs open.

  Matthias flies away from me so fast I almost lose my balance and meet the floor face first. I grab the edge of the sink, hanging on for dear life as I slide off.

  “Well, this is interesting,” Bas drawls from the door.

  I suck in a ragged breath, trying to get my heart and erection under control.

  “Don’t mind me, I’ll just go entertain Kelly some more. I was worried that you got eaten by a urinal monster or something, but I can see that’s not the case. Carry on.”

  Just as quickly as they appear they’re gone.

  Matthias runs a hand through his hair and blows out a breath. Before he can say anything or worse—leave—I do.

  “Neil!”

  I ignore him and all but run to the table.

  Matthias.

  I sit in the restaurant Neil picked, not a hundred percent sure that he’s actually going to show.

  He was hesitant in his texts this morning. Like he didn’t believe that I still wanted to meet with him. I don’t blame him for leaving last night. How could I? I’m the one who broke off our tentative friendship first.

  I shouldn’t have kissed him, I know that. But fuck I didn’t know what else to do. I felt guilty for being caught with that other guy. Which is stupid. I owe him nothing.

  I didn’t kiss him to make him forget about the compromising position he found me in though. No, I kissed him because I wanted to.

  Because he looked so good in his black shirt and tight pants. With his curls artfully disheveled and his lips so pink and fucking kissable.

  I’ve never had that with anyone before. I never felt safe enough to let them kiss me like that. But with Neil, everything is different. I can’t fully explain it, but kissing Neil is a connection I don’t want to give up.

  “Sorry, I’m a little late,” Neil says as he takes a seat across from me.

  “You’re fine.”

  I try not to stare at his mouth as he picks up his menu. He’s wearing a green dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and God is it a good look for him.

  “Have you been here before?” He asks.

  “I actually haven’t, I don’t normally go out to dinner.”

  “Prefer to cook for yourself?”

  “No,” I laugh, “I can’t cook to save my life. Unless we count heating up something frozen. No, I have a lot of takeout, but I don’t normally go out because it’s boring when it’s just one person. Nobody wants to be that guy you know? The one who eats alone.”

  “I don’t know, sometimes it’s nice to go where you want and not have someone whine about it. Though I get what you mean, mealtimes are always more exciting when you’re with people you can actually talk to. It’s why my siblings and I try to have dinner together once a week.”

  I envy his close relationship with his siblings. Not only does he have dinner with them, but he also goes out with Bas at least once a week from what I’ve seen. It makes me wonder what my relationship with Jameson would look like if we were born into a different family.

  I open my menu but my brain can’t quite read the words. “What would you recommend?”

  “I usually get the chicken marsala with pesto. Sometimes I’ll just do pasta if I’m in a mood for carbs. You can’t really go wrong here.”

  I nod and close the menu. “I’m not picky and that sounds good.”

  Neil lets out a small, hesitant smile.

  The waiter brings us fresh bread, takes our drink and food orders, and then leaves quickly.

  Neil rests his arms on the table and then leans forward, “what am I doing here, Matthias? If you just want to apologize you did that last night, quite thoroughly. I won’t turn my back on you, but I won’t keep putting myself out there only to get hurt again. I want to help you, I really do, but I don’t know how to do that because you’re so closed off and when you’re not I don’t want to do or say anything that will set you off. So help me out here. Because I need to know what you want from me before this goes any further.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” I confess. “I like talking to you. Even though it’s hard. I like that you don’t put up with my shit, but you don’t leave because I’m an asshole either. I know I haven’t been fair to you but it’s so fucking hard.”

  I have to look away from those dark eyes of his. They sear my insides with how patient and understanding they are. “I…” I swallow. “I liked kissing you last night. More than anything.

  “I don’t usually do that you know. Kiss the guys I hook up with. You’ve been an exception from the beginning. I don’t do repeats or try to make friends with the guys who push me to my knees.

  “I want to do more than kiss you and that scares the absolute fuck out of me because I don’t do that. I’m not some,” I stop myself. “I’m not gay.” I take a breath. “I might be bi, I’m not sure yet. But being with a guy? Really being with him? I don’t think I can do it. It’s too jumbled in my head.

  “I want to get away from my past, not do something that will throw me right back there.”

  “And being with a man will do that?” He asks, a frown on his face.

  All I can do is nod.

  Matthias. Age 23.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am deadly serious, Matthias.” Marta’s tone is ice cold, much like her heart.

  “Why am I being punished? I’m not the one who is a disgusting faggot,” I spit.

  “Watch your mouth. This is not a punishment. It’s...a learning experience. You might be innocent, but I want to make sure that none of your brother’s corruption leaked onto you.”

  I shake my head, that makes no fucking sense, but I know better than to try to change her mind.

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  Marta smiles but it’s not a nice expression. “Then we will no longer help you. You might have money now, but that will only get you so far. Think about your career. You just graduated. You still haven’t secured a job, have you?

  “You know my reach, I can either expedite or make sure you never get one any time soon.

  “Don’t tell me you wasted all those years in school just to be some trust fund kid who can’t get a job. Think of what people will say?

  “It’s not our reputation that will go down the drain. After all, we only paid for school so that our lazy son could do what, sit on the sofa all day?”

  I grit my teeth. I wish I could say I don’t care about her threats, but I do. I spent my whole life growing up with Marta’s twisted view of the world. I’m not my brother. I care about what people think. I hate that I care but I do.

  Marta smirks because she knows she won.

  ***

  “This is Pete. He’ll stay here with you and make sure you have everything you need.” Pete is huge, tall, and wide, and fucking intimidating as fuck. “And this is Jim. He’s a counselor and he'll talk to you about why your unnatural urges are wrong.”

  Jim is short, with a receding hairline, beady little eyes, and a sinister smile. My stomach twists in trepidation.

  “Pete has a phone and he will call me if there are any issues. Though I hope there aren’t. I don’t want to have to take more drastic measures.” Marta levels Jameson with a look.

  “Everything will be fine, Marta. I promise, by the time you get them back you won’t be able to recognize them.” Jim smiles without showing his teeth. His voice is as oily as his hair.

  Jameson and I share a look. Underneath the disgust, I see his determination. I might not agree with his choices, but we’re in this together. As pissed as I am at Marta for making me do this, I can’t subjugate my brother to it. It’s partly my fault this creep is here anyway.

  Marta eventually leaves, so it’s just Jameson, me, our babysitter, and Jim the crackhead.
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br />   “So,” Jim claps his hands, “who wants to go first.”

  Neither one of us moves.

  Jim narrows his eyes before saying, “confused one first then, come along, Jameson. We’re going to have a nice, long walk in the woods and get to know one another.”

  He goes to grab Jameson’s arm but my brother jerks away. “Don’t touch me.” He spits.

  Jim smiles, “if that’s what you want.”

  I watch as the two of them disappear between the trees before I retreat into the cabin. Unlike the house we grew up in, this is not decorated like a museum.

  It’s warm and inviting and deceptive in nature because as much as I love it up here, I know this is going to be a very different summer than what I imagined.

  Matthias. Age 34.

  The waiter setting our meals down in front of us jars me from the memory, which I’m thankful for. I regret a lot in my life, but that day is what started me on this path that I’m not sure how to get off of. Even though I really, really want to.

  “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head, “no, I’m not. I was just thinking about what happened with Jameson and me.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not right now. I’m not...ready for that conversation. When it happens we need to be somewhere more private, and with a lot more alcohol.”

  “Fair enough.”

  We spend a few minutes digging into our food.

  “I have a question and it’s kind of important that I get an answer.”

  “Okay…” My anxiety rises.

  “Is it pleasure or punishment?”

  “What?”

  “The blow jobs, are they for pleasure because getting someone off gets you off. Or are you punishing yourself?”

  “I...I don’t know,” I lie.

  “Sex isn’t a cure. Sure, it’s fun and can get you out of your head for a while, but eventually those feelings come rushing back. Of course, not having sex has the same effect.

  I just…” He pauses and begins to play with his food a bit. “I don’t want you to get hurt because you’re punishing yourself.”

  “I’m an adult,” I say slowly, “I can make my own choices on what I do or don’t do.”

  “That’s not the fucking point and you know it. Feeling confused by your sexuality is fine, everyone comes to terms with it in their own time, but letting guys use you like you’re worth nothing is another. It doesn’t matter if you willingly consent to it or not.

  If I’m going to be your friend again, I won’t let you destroy yourself.”

  The food sits heavy in my stomach. Neil isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. But hearing it from someone else, knowing they see through all the bullshit, it’s hard.

  “It’s not a punishment...not entirely,” I swallow and look down at the table. “I like giving head. I just...I don’t go about it the right way, I know that. There’s nothing wrong with casual sex. You were happy to stick your dick in my mouth and leave so I know you don’t have a problem with it either.”

  “It’s not. But I don’t want to enable you. So no matter what happens here,” he motions between us, “anything sexual is off the table.”

  I nod in agreement.

  He hesitates and seems to choose his next words carefully, “have you ever thought about talking to someone?”

  I bristle, “like a fucking shrink?”

  “Therapy can be very helpful.”

  “I’m not a fucking headcase, I don’t need a shrink.”

  His eyes narrow, “I’ve been in and out of therapy since I was ten. It can be very effective if you find the right match. Someone compassionate yet impartial, just so you can work on the things in your head. It helps.” He pauses, “Jamie goes to therapy. Every week, sometimes twice a week. I’ve seen how beneficial it’s been for him. And for Rhys. They’re both...lighter. Now that they’re in love and with the right kind of support all around.”

  “Good for them and you. Doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

  “It was just a suggestion. It’s not for everyone, but it can’t hurt to try.”

  I shrug and push around the rest of the pasta on my plate. I don’t want or need anyone digging around in my head. After Wacko Jim I don’t think I can trust a real professional.

  “Do you two want dessert?” our waiter asks as he takes our plates away since we’re both doing more playing than eating now.

  I look to Neil who shakes his head. “No, thank you,” I say.

  While we wait for the check Neil asks, “do you wanna come over? Watch something? Drink? I don’t have any more vodka but there’s always some type of alcohol around.”

  “That sounds nice.” He already said we won’t do anything, and I don’t do repeats anyway, but I don’t want this night to end.

  ***

  Neil’s house is cute, much like the man himself. It’s cozy and lived in. Whereas my condo is cold and impersonal.

  “Drink and Netflix? I’m not sure what I have, dinner was at Bas’s this week, but like I said, there’s always something around here.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll be right back, have a seat, make yourself at home.”

  The sofa is deep and I could probably just live in it. I don’t get to relax much on my own sofa—unless you count drunken naps as relaxing.

  Neil comes back in with two beers. He hands me one before sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. He picks up a remote from the beat-up coffee table and turns on the TV.

  “What do you wanna watch?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t watch much TV.” I’m so fucking lame.

  “What about Ozark?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “I watched the first season with Bas. It’s about a dude who launders money for the cartel. It’s good.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  He queues up the show before getting up to turn off the lights.

  I don’t pay much attention to what happens on screen, too blown away by how domestic this all is. I’ve never had this. Never had something so simple and easy as a night on the sofa with a close friend or family member.

  It’s things like this, which are so normal for other people, that show how pathetic my life is.

  I don’t know how many episodes we get through before Neil stops it, stands, and stretches.

  “Wanna stay the night?”

  I only had the one drink, I’m more than capable of driving myself home, but I still find myself saying, “if I can.”

  “Come on, stuff’s still where you left it.”

  Neil closes the house down and I follow him to the guest bedroom. “I’m glad we did this,” he says.

  “Me too. Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. Just do better.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  Neil leans up and kisses me. Soft and sweet. Nothing like our passionate kiss from last night.

  My hands grip his waist, pulling him closer to me. He moans into my mouth as our lips part and tongues meet. It’s nice to just kiss him without the expectation of anything.

  Breaking the kiss, Neil falls back flat on his feet, but my arms stay around him.

  “Just a kiss,” Hh whispers, “nothing else.”

  “Nothing else,” I repeat before swooping in and kissing him again.

  Neil pushes me back a few steps and I collide with the closed door. His hands cling to the back of my neck, fingers burrowing into my hair. His lips are insistent but still soft and gentle.

  My hands slip under his shirt to grab at the skin of his waist. Neil’s hips ground into mine and when I feel his hard length I groan. My dick is slower to respond but it does. The sensation of our groins rubbing together, even through our pants, takes my breath away.

  Neil pulls away to catch his breath.

  “Sleep with me?” I ask, voice raspy. “Just sleep. I...I want to feel you.
”

  Neil shivers in my arms, he leans his entire weight on me, his head resting in the crook of my neck. Soft lips brush against my skin and a bolt of pleasure shoots through me. He nods his head once. “You can sleep in my bed.”

  His words are muffled a bit but they go straight to my heart.

  Neil.

  I’ve never shared a bed with anyone aside from my siblings. I thought it would be weird and it was to a point.

  But Matthias did exactly what he said he wanted to. He stripped down to his boxers while I threw on a pair of sweats, and we got under the covers, where he held me until we both fell asleep.

  Waking up with him on his back, one hand resting on my hip as I lay beside him, it should be awkward but it’s not.

  This is so much more than I bargained for. What happens when he wakes and realizes where he is? We’ve gone this long without a full closeted meltdown but it’s coming and I know I’ll be the one left in shambles when it’s over.

  Sliding from the bed, careful not to wake him, I escape to the hall bathroom to do my business then head to the kitchen for coffee. I consider asking Matthias out to breakfast but that didn’t exactly end well for us last time.

  I’m leaning against the counter, mug of coffee clutched in my hands when Matthias walks in, wearing nothing but his underwear. My cock stirs and I try to drown my interest in caffeine.

  “Your phone won’t stop making noise,” he complains, setting the offending device on the counter.

  I set my mug aside and see who is bothering me this early in the morning.

  Bas: Donuts or bagels?

  Bas: Don’t make me choose because I want both.

  Bas: Do you have oj? I’m bringing champagne.

  Bas: The baker talked me into croissants.

  Bas: I’ll be there in 5.

  Bas: I WILL jump on you if you’re still sleeping.

  “Shit.”