Page 24 of Top Shelf
“Sorry,” he whispered again.
I grabbed the washcloth and soap and began to clean the traces of come from his skin. He sucked in a breath when I wiped between his cheeks, and I could see his gaze follow the washcloth when I put it under the water.
“Don’t worry, there’s no shit,” I told him.
He bit his lip, then let out the smallest laugh. “Yeah. That’s good, right?”
“It is what it is. It wouldn’t have mattered to me either way.” I soaped the cloth up again and ran it down my stomach before letting it fall to the floor with a wet slap and pulling Ferris against me. I used the wall to brace myself so I could take his weight, and I tipped his chin up so I could see his face. “Was it bad? Is that why you were upset?”
“I wasn’t upset. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. It was perfect. And it was so much that I got overwhelmed. I fucking hate my brain sometimes. I wish…” He growled softly and held me tighter. “I wish I could just enjoy things like a normal person.”
I wasn’t going to patronize him by telling him normal was subjective. I understood what he meant. I was a whole person worthy of having what everyone else did, but I was still disabled. There were barriers in my body that prevented me from being able to do the things I wanted to do.
If this had been before the accident, I would have pinned him to the wall, held him up, and fucked his ass until he saw God.
And knowing him now, he would have loved that.
But I couldn’t give that to him.
“How do you feel?” I asked when his body relaxed.
He snorted and pulled back, giving me a long, slow up-and-down gaze. “Amazing.”
I couldn’t help a grin as I gripped his shoulders and tugged him into a fierce kiss. Reality was pressing in on all sides, and there were words on the tip of my tongue that I didn’t want to say, but I knew I had to.
“I should get you back. You have a curfew, don’t you?”
He looked sad but resigned when he glanced up at me. Our eye contact lasted a little longer this time. “I do. Everyone breaks it, but I get too nervous when I try.”
I kissed him one more time. “Let’s get dressed, and I’ll get you back before anyone knows you were gone.”
“Oh,” he said as he stepped out of the shower and handed me a towel. “I already told people where I’d be in case you were a psychopath killer.”
I laughed a little as I watched him wrap the towel around his waist. He was too easy on the eyes. His skin was unmarred for now—that wouldn’t last in the NHL, but was still something I wasn’t used to seeing. His muscles were defined by his youth and the subtle strength he held in his limbs.
His rich brown eyes locked on mine for a moment. “I was being literal again. Sorry.”
Cupping his cheek, I drew him in and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then temple, then the corner of his lips. “I like it. Please stop apologizing for who you are.”
He said nothing to that. It was a ridiculous thing to say, after all. The world was sharp edges and ice-cold and would always ask people to be sorry for not being enough. Or for being too much.
Or for all those things all at once.
Chapter Seven
Quinn
I wokein the morning having dreamed of Ferris. I could feel the heat of his skin, and the desperation in his kisses, and the way his body moved against mine like it was real. The ache in my chest was profound when I swung my legs off the bed and forced myself to stand.
Mornings were always harder for me. My knee was in agony, and my joints—abused by years of hockey—were stiff and unyielding.
I needed to get out of this place. I needed a home and a bed that didn’t make me want to fling myself into the sun after a single night of sleep.
Stretching my arms above my head, I took in a deep breath and let myself indulge in the memory of saying goodbye to Ferris. He’d sat with me in the car until people in his frat started looking out the window.
I assumed he would run from me after that—embarrassed to be seen with an old man. Instead, he leaned in and took an indulgent kiss. It was a goodbye kiss, of course. I had a life to get on living, and he had a career to start. There was no place for each other apart from that single night.
That single moment.
