Page 52 of Strong Side

However, the smile quickly fades, and he begins looking at his surroundings like a scared, wounded animal, likely trying to make sense of how he got here and what’s going on. All I want to do is make all of the hurt go away, so I ask, “What do you need? Tell me what you need.”

“I-I need you to take it away. Take it all away.Please.”

1. Never Know - Bad Omen

34

A Maybe Not-So-Miserable Man

Clayton

Iwatch Rocky’s face as what I’m asking finally seems to register. His breath catches in his throat and his eyes widen. “Clay… you want me to—”

“Yes. Please, Rocky.” He didn’t finish that sentence, but he didn’t need to. He and I both know exactlywhat I’m asking for.

1 He takes my face in his hands, gently stroking my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, wiping away any tears that may have fallen. His eyes search mine for a second, trying to figure out if this is something that I truly want or if it’s the anxiety attack talking. Turning my head, I gently kiss the palm of one of his hands, all while keeping my eyes locked on his pools of green, silently reassuring him that this is what I want.

What Ineed.

“I don’t want to feel it. Any of it. All I want to feel is you. Make it go away, Baby.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, as if me finally managing to string that many words together allows him to breathe just a little bit easier. With my face still in his hands, he tips it forward and places a deep yet gentle kiss on my forehead, and what normally feels like such an ordinary act of intimacy feels like anything but. I swear I can feel the caress of his lips all the way down to my toes.

His lips linger for a moment before he releases his hold on my face, turns the shower off, and pulls me through the bathroom and into my bedroom, not bothering to dry either of us off. Rocky spins me around so I’m facing him, and with his hands on mywaist, he pushes me toward the side of the bed until the backs of my knees hit the edge. He gently pushes me so I’m sitting in front of him and he’s standing between my spread legs. With a tenderness I’ve never seen from him, he reaches up and brushes my wet hair off of my forehead; when his fingers thread through my hair, I moan into his touch as the pads of his fingers gently massage my scalp. I can feel the exhaustion taking over my body. I haven’t had a panic attack that intense in years, and even the mildest of ones make me want to do nothing but crawl into bed for twenty-four hours. But I want this more.

I want to let go. I want him to take care of me in the way I crave to be taken care of. I want this for me. For him. Forus.

“You are beautiful, Clayton Aldrich,” he whispers lovingly as he looks down at me.

“Hmmm,” I groan in contentment. “I love when you say my name like that.”

He huffs out a laugh. “So you’ve said.”

With one hand on the center of my chest, he pushes until my back is flat against the bed. His fingers trail gently over the expanse of my body, stopping when they reach the tattoo on my collarbone that says “No risk, no story” in a thin script font. “When did you get this?”

“Beginning of sophomore year. Jax has the same one.”

Rocky smiles softly. “You love him, huh?”

I do, without a doubt. So I answer plainly, “He’s my brother.”

Not needing any further clarification, the stroke of his fingers moves across the side of my rib cage, tracing the black ink that covers it. He reads the text written there, but phrases it as a question rather than a statement, “All we wanted was a place to feel like home?”

I shrug, the meaning behind this tattoo being a little more complicated than the first. “It’s a lyric from the song ‘Miserable Man.’”

“You really like that song or something?” A knowing look passes over his face, fully understanding that the quote means more to me than it simply being my favorite song.

But I don’t want to get into that right now so I nod and answer, “Or something.”

Rocky bends over and, much like he did to my forehead in the shower, places a soft kiss over the ink. And much like it did in the shower, his kiss sends a wave of rightness through my body. He hasn’t even kissed me on the lips since we’ve been here, and yet, I feel more connected to him right now than I ever have.

Instead of righting himself, Rocky moves his head to the center of my stomach. While looking up at me, he whispers, “You are so much more than you think you are, Clay. You are capable.” He places another light kisson the center of my stomach and moves up until his face hovers over the right side of my chest.

“You are an incredible athlete.”

Kiss.

He moves to the left side of my chest. “This heart… Shit, this fucking heart makes you one of the best people I know.”

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