Page 37 of Forgiving Utah

I burrow deeper into Christian’s jacket. “Just thought you'd want to know.”

“He already knows, asshole,” Logan mutters, pulling Owen closer when I plop down next to them.

“He does?”

Owen laughs, a cute little chuckle that almost makes me smile. “Yep. He told me on our first date right before I gave him a blow job.”

My brows hit my hairline as Logan groans loudly. “Can we not talk about our bedroom activities, please?”

“Why? We talk about it with everyone else.”

“That's different.” Logan eyes me sideways, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow. The tips of his ears are turning red.

“We're all adults and we like to bone. I like dick, you like dick. He likes dick. No big deal.”

“Owen, please.” Logan squirms in his seat. I catch the way he subtly adjusts himself, like this conversation alone is getting him hard.

Honestly, it would probably turn me on too if my shit wasn't all out of whack. It usually is for a while after I get sober. To be honest, I'm not sure how long it lasts, because… well, whenever I felt like getting laid in the past, I'd just snort a line and everything would work again—at least until the numbness set in.

The two turn back to their movie, but I sit stiffly beside them, unsure of what to do with my hands. Christian’s jacket is heavy on my shoulders, steady and distracting all at once. The itch at the back of my skull claws up again, that old craving whispering promises like it always does: Just one bump. Just one night. Do it, do it, do it.

I curl my fingers into the sleeves to ground myself, rubbing at the worn leather. It helps a little. Enough to keep me from bolting out the door like a fiend. I pretty much spend the remainder of the movie trying not to vibrate out of my skin.

As soon as the credits roll, Owen stretches like a cat. “We should probably head to bed.”

Logan nods, getting to his feet. “Yeah. Christian’s gonna be locked in his room all night, so you'll have the living room to yourself, Dev.”

Something sinks in my gut at those words.

“Night.” Owen gives my knee a gentle pat before sliding off the couch.

Logan pauses in front of me to study my face. “Don’t do anything impulsive tonight,” he says quietly. “Try to sleep.”

I give him a half-assed salute. “Sure thing, bro. Scouts honor.”

He just sighs, but leaves me alone, guiding Owen into their bedroom. When everything goes silent, I stare at the blank TV screen, my reflection pale and warped in the glass. Seconds tick by.

Christian’s door stays shut. So does Logan’s. Everyone’s tucked away, everyone’s okay.

Everyone except for me.

Lying flat on the sofa, I pull Christian’s jacket tighter around me and bury my nose in the collar. Coffee, leather, and warm spice. Almond and cedar. Good smells, safe smells.

Maybe the longer I stay still with his jacket on, the easier it'll be when my thoughts come to take me away.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Devon

At some point, I must have dozed off, because a moan drags me out of a dreamless sleep.

My dry eyes fly open.

The noise comes again, slightly louder, this time followed by a muffled laugh. Then another deep groan as… skin slaps skin. The wet smack of a kiss. Two very manly voices.

I'm off the couch in an instant, throat tight when I head toward Christian's room. Something burns in my chest, like a deep pit opening inside of me at the thought of him fucking another guy in there.

When I draw closer to both bedrooms, though, it becomes clear that the sounds aren't coming from his room.