Page 16 of His Curvy Obsession

And I get it. I do. But right now, I don’t want to talk to Elijah about his daughter. It’s just another unwelcome reminder that my brothers are both married men, both becoming dads, and I’m…not.

A flash of Rebecca from this morning runs through my mind, only it’s not an image based in reality. Instead, it’s a scene that didn’t happen, a scene where Rebecca said yes. And then we quickly got to work making a baby, right there on my bed.

I was prepared to do it.

Prepared to get started this morning, if she was feeling up to it.

Fucking her this morning would serve two purposes. Filling her with my seed, the first time of many if we were to try for a baby together….and at the same time, finally taking care of the erection I’d been battling back all morning long as we talked in my bedroom.

Sure, I saw her naked last night. But that was different. It wasn’tsexual. I was caretaking, washing her up and changing her into clean clothes, making sure she made it to bed, taking care of her when she woke up several times throughout the night.

But this morning? When she woke up, her hair all messy, face bare of any makeup, my favorite shirt draped over her curves?

I fucking wanted her.

“Her new tooth finally came through,” Elijah says. “So hopefully things will improve soon.”

“How did the call with Pete go?” I ask, wanting to get off the topic as soon as possible.

Emmett arrives as I ask the question, late by fifteen minutes, as usual. He looks from one of us to the other.

“Okay,” he says slowly, turning to look at me. “I know why Elijah looks half-dead. But what’s up with you?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“You look like shit.”

“I’ve been told,” I reply, running a hand through my hair.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

Emmett glances at Elijah.

“You don’t look fine,” Emmett says. “What’s the deal? Did you drink too much at the party last night?”

His words strike a chord. It’s been a long time since alcohol has been even remotely tempting to me. It’s not Emmett’s fault. My brothers don’t know how low I once fell. I was in college, lost in the long shadows that they both cast over my life, struggling to form connections to others.

Social connection just came so naturally to everyone else. But not for me. Never for me.

I tried. Oh, I tried. For a while I had plans. I would find a girlfriend and tie the knot after we graduated. We’d have kids. We’d settle down.

Normal. We would be normal.

I would be normal.

But changing myself was hard. Going to parties, struggling to make idle conversation with people, to connect with them on an emotional level.

Alcohol helped. It lowered my inhibitions. Made jokes funnier, made small talk easier.

I was still awkward, constantly second guessing myself.What is this person feeling? What does that smile mean? If I say this, is that okay? What did they mean when they said that?

But even though I still second guessed myself, it was easier. Calmer. No anxiety, no fear.

Alcohol helped. Until one day, it didn’t anymore. It spiraled out of control. Eventually, I didn’t know how to function without it, liquor being the fuel that kept me going, kept me forcingmyself out of my comfort zone, exhausting myself mentally trying to squeeze myself into a mold that didn’t fit.

Realizing it was ruining me, I quit drinking cold turkey. The drinkingandthe socializing. Because I couldn't seem to do one without the other.

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