Page 45 of Needed You

I can’t help the smile that grows on my face. “I enjoyed it,” I say, licking my lips. He gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m into you,” I tell him. My heart is pounding out of my chest with my confession, and he closes his eyes. “I know that maybe it’s weird or uncomfortable or whatever because of Na—”

His eyes snap open, and he bolts up in bed. “Don’t,” he says firmly.

“I—”

“Don’t, okay? I know what you’re going to say and where your head is because mine’s there too. Just please, don’t.”

His reaction catches me off guard a little, and I swallow and furrow my brow. “Okay, I’m not—”

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

I didn’t realize that talking about Nate was going to be so upsetting to him. I make a mental note to approach that topic with more sensitivity next time. I was going to tell him that I hope he’s okay with the fact that we’re doing this and that I’m pretty sure Nate would be happy to know his brother and best friend reconnected. Clearly he didn’t want to talk about it.

My chest hurts as I turn off the light and settle into bed. I reach over and pull him close to me. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow,” I manage. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

He mumbles a quiet “’kay” and closes his eyes as he curls up into me. I’m not quite sure what to think, exactly, but I hold him tight and let the slow, rhythmic sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.

Chapter 24

Darian

When I wake up the next morning, I quickly realize I’m not in my own bed. I crack my eyes open and give myself a few minutes to wake up fully. The bed next to me is cold, but it’s not until I roll over and notice Lev isn’t here with me that I remember him saying something about needing to be at work early today.

The conversation we had just before we went to sleep comes crashing back into me, and I close my eyes for a minute, bracing against the memory. Yeah, I know I have my walls up. As much as I like him, there’s just so much history between us, and I can’t let it all go. But the huge crush I had on him as a kid was just that—a crush—and now we’re adults, doing very adult things. Of course it’s bound to be complicated, right?

Before I can let myself get lost in remembering all of those very adult things we did last night—god, that blow job . . . the man is talented, that’s for sure—I roll over and force myself out of bed. Then I quickly get dressed in my clothes from last night and check my phone. There are no messages, so I stuff my phone in my pocket and head out of the bedroom to the kitchen.

There’s a brown bag on the table and a note beside it, along with a clean, empty travel mug. I pick up the note and read it.

Hey.

Good morning. I hope you slept okay. I got some bagels and pastries before I left for work. Have what you want and take the rest home. They are for you. Coffee is all prepped in the maker, just have to turn it on if you want some. Have a good day. If you don’t have a ride, you can stay here.

- Lev

I’m trying not to be too shocked as I read, but I really can’t believe Lev left early, went out and got breakfast, and then came back, all while I slept. He bought me breakfast and extra pastries and bagels—while I slept. Just because? This guy is too much. There’s no way someone is just that nice, right?

I also can’t help feeling like he’s trying to fix something. To take care of me. But I don’t need him to feel sorry for me, and I don’t need him to take care of me.

Ever since Nate died, everyone seems to feel that way—like they feel sorry for me. I’m the kid whose brother died. The kid whose family abandoned him. The goth kid who can’t function and drinks too much. Fuck that. I don’t need their pity. And I don’t need Lev thinking that way too.

I rub my hand over my face and look into the bag on the table. There are a few bagels, a muffin, and a croissant, like he didn’t know what I might want, so he just got a bunch of things. Because he’s thoughtful like that too? Suddenly, it feels warm in here, and my heart starts beating faster. I grab the muffin and then head outside for some fresh air, leaving the bag and coffee behind. Then I shoot a text to a few friends to see if anyone can come pick me up since my car is still at the diner.

Keira texts back first, and I hang around outside, pacing impatiently as I wait for her to come and get me. A thousand thoughts are running through my head all at once, and I can’t get them to quiet down.

I’m so sorry, Darian.

God, Darian. How awful. I feel so bad for you.

Poor Darian.

How do you even deal with that?

Are you doing okay, Dare? You poor thing . . .

He’s the kid whose brother . . . you know . . .

I grab my hair and squeeze in frustration, letting out a growl. My breath leaves my mouth in a puff, the air around me cold and still. A chill runs up my spine as all the freaking things people have said over the years replay in my head. Everyone feeling sorry for me. Everyone pitying me. Everyone wondering if I’ll be okay but no one reaching out to actually help.