Page 85 of Quiet
Briar:Will! Are you or are you not gay-ish married to Alice?
All Isa got after that was a string of laughter emojis.
“Well?” Alex asked.
“I have no clue.” If Isa wanted answers, he was going to have to hunt his friend down. “I need to find him.” He tucked Briar’s phone back into his pocket.
He tried to get up but was held fast to Briar’s lap.
He tapped his boyfriend’s arms, but nothing happened. “You’re a very comfy chair, but I need to get up.”
There was a hesitant, uncertain energy coming from Briar, but Isa couldn’t very well ask him what it was about in front of other people.
Briar’s phone chimed. It was his text alert. Briar ignored it. Then it went off again. Then again.
Isa finally noticed Alex with his phone in hand, giving Briar a glare.
Briar huffed and let Isa go.
Isa held out a hand to Briar. “Let’s go find Will. I need answers.”
Chapter31
Briar
Helping Isa get dressed was torture. Beautiful, sweet torture.
He’d gotten carried away earlier and nearly added to the impressive array of bruises Isa already had. That had been unacceptable. But now that Isa had insisted they go find his friend, Briar couldn’t stop himself from following upstairs with an armload of borrowed clothes from various housemates. Briar’s clothes didn’t come close to fitting Isa.
He should leave Isa to dress alone. He knew he should. But everything about the boy called to him like a siren’s song, luring Briar in to break himself against the rocks of Isa. Only if Briar gave in, Isa would be the one getting broken.
Well, more broken.
It had been less than four days since Isa was attacked, and the bruises mottling his lovely face were stark reminders for Briar to keep his hands to himself.
But when Isa tried to match Sierra’s plaid shirt with the red corduroy jeans Bea had donated, he couldn’t stop himself.
Briar took the offending items out of Isa’s hands and laid everything he’d borrowed onto the bed. He tried not to look at Isa. Tried not to notice the heat of his slight frame as it pressed against him innocently.
Unfortunately, it was impossible to ignore the beautiful, fashion-blind person he was supposed to be dressing.
Briar took a deep breath and steeled his will. He could do this. He could wait until Isa’s bruises were gone before giving him new ones.
He picked out the blue, square-necked, silk tank top he’d gotten from Bea’s girlfriend. Silk wouldn’t agitate sensitive bruises. He fingered the sleek material and imagined running his hands over it while it was on Isa’s body. He’d been planning to hand the shirt to Isa, but . . . what if he couldn’t get his arms into the shirt by himself? Briar should help him.
“Here.” Briar took Isa’s arms and helped him out of his sleep shirt before slipping the tank top over his head. His hands smoothed the material down Isa’s sides of their own volition, but Briar managed to get them under control before they went any further south. It had taken more than a few coping mechanisms to do so.
“Is there something outside?” Isa said from across the room.
Briar shook his head. “No, just . . . focusing.”
Isa stared at him oddly, and starlight shimmered in his eyes.
Briar really hoped Isa wasn’t picking up on the perverted thoughts that had seemed to take up permanent residence in his mind. He honestly couldn’t help it. In the span of only a few weeks, Briar had gone from not thinking about having sex with anyone, to wanting it constantly from Isa.
If Isa knew how well Briar’s mind was keeping him supplied with a steady stream of sense memories of the tight, wet slide of Isa’s body surrounding him, of the way Isa melted into Briar and just let him take anything he wanted . . . No, it was better if he didn’t know. Otherwise, he might leave, and Briar wouldn’t blame him.
Isa’s brow wrinkled in confusion, and the starlight faded. “Do what you need to do. I’m going to finish getting dressed.”
