Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
I stared at his profile as he drove. He had a slight shadow under his eye, speaking to the late hour and long shift on his feet. He drove with confidence in his designer coat, looking like he belonged right there at the helm of his pricey vehicle while I sat in my thrift store jacket and big-box sweats. Still, he’d jumped to my aid, no questions asked. His hand remained on my leg as he drove, anchoring me to reality. Without it, I’d be lost in my head, continuing my journey down Worst-Case Scenario Lane.
Who was this man? We weren’t friends. Would he do this for any guy whose dick he liked to play with?
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked as we pulled onto the highway. “I’m not trying to pry. You don’t have to say shit. I’ll take you wherever you need to go anyway, but if you want to bounce anything off me…” He shrugged.
I sighed. No, I did not want to talk about it, and it had nothing to do with who he was or wasn’t to me. I didn’t talk about my brother to anyone. Trevor was the only person in my life who’d met my family, and even he didn’t know the extent of our trials. But the idea of unloading some of my burden in that moment of turmoil was too good to pass up. I could hate myself for this later.
“It’s my brother.”
His eyebrows jumped halfway up his forehead as he kept his focus on the road ahead. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
Why would he? We didn’t chat.
“Uh, yeah. He just turned nineteen, and… well, he’s a total fuckup.” I stared back out the windshield again. “My mom calls him a free spirit, but he’s not. He’s a selfish asshole who’d rather shoot up and party twenty-four-seven than contribute to our family.” I winced. “Sorry, probably more drama than you want to hear about.”
“Alex…” I faced him, and he spared me a quick glance before refocusing on the road. “I asked.”
He had, hadn’t he?
“You listened to me when I needed it. Let me do the same for you. No judgment. Just listening.”
Had anyone ever made me an offer like that? I’d been judged. Hell, Ryder had been one of the guys to judge me from the moment he met me. It was why I remained tight-lipped about my family situation, even with my few friends. But the sincerity in his tone had me believing him.
“His name is Kenny. We live together with our mom. Kenny doesn’t work or go to school. I have a suspicion he makes some money selling drugs because he has new shit sometimes, but he doesn’t contribute to anything at home. He’s always in some kind of trouble.” I sighed.
Troubled eyes flicked my way. “Your mom doesn’t get on his case?”
I shook my head. She couldn’t get on his case. So much of her mental energy went to struggling through each day. She barely knew what he was up to and when. “I think she carries a lot of guilt since he was so young when she got si—” I cleared my throat. “Um, she has a lot on her plate, so we were mostly left to figure out our own shit. Every once in a while, I get a call like this to drag his ass out of some crap-hole in the middle of the night because he’s too toasted to function.”
“Wow, I’m sorry, Alex. That sounds… hard.” He steered with his left hand and kept the other resting on my thigh. Not squeezing, not trailing up toward my cock, not stroking or trying to elicit a response, just the warmth of a human connection.
I frowned.
Should I shove him off? I wasn’t accustomed to comfort, physical or otherwise. I had no idea how to accept it. What was I supposed to say or do with that hand? It felt nice, really nice.
Soothing, heavy, steady.
What did it say about that part of me who wanted to lay my hand on his and link our fingers together, deepening the connection? It would be weird, right?
I couldn’t allow myself to get used to someone, especially Ryder, making me feel better in a time of crisis. There’d be no repeat of the insanity of this moment, but maybe, just this once, I could leave his hand on my leg and enjoy the feeling of not being so goddamn alone all the time.
No one would have to know.
“How ugly a situation do you think we’ll be walking into?” he asked without removing his hand. Usually, the question would have had me bristling or spitting out an angry response, but his voice didn’t hold any judgment or recriminations.
“Not sure, but whoever it was that called me made it sound bad. And there’s no we. I appreciate the ride and the help, but you’re gonna stay in the car while I go in and deal with Kenny and… whoever.”