Page 24

“You know, if you ever need anything, I’m just a message or a phone call away?”

He nods, but I’m well aware that Ryker doesn’t ask for help. If anyone would reach out, it would be Huxley, but even still, they try not to bother me, instead preferring to suffer in silence. I hate it.

In a perfect world, I’d fly to Michigan, tell our father that his attempts to be a parent have failed, and take them as far away from him as possible. But life isn’t that easy, especially when yours revolves around a narcissistic asshole who always gets his way, even if it’s at the detriment of his children.

I stay exactly where I am on the couch long after our call has ended, circling through ideas that I know can’t happen. Even if I did have a nine-to-five job where I could be home every night, Dad wouldn’t allow it.

He’s got their futures already mapped out. Just remembering those times is exhausting. Thinking about both of my little brothers going through the exact same thing hurts. It makes me wonder if it’s all worth it. Maybe I should give it all up, settle down, and fight the possibly pointless battle to take them on myself.

I’ve never had a desire to have my own kids—I think that might have everything to do with my upbringing. But I would move heaven and earth for my little brothers if I truly thought I could make a difference in their lives.

Maybe one day, everything will change. But right now, they’re where they have to be. I just hope our regular phone calls help because, if they don’t, I fear what the next ten years will bring and how they’ll both get through them.

Eventually, I roll myself off my couch to make myself some dinner. Since my trade, the Vipers' nutritionist has created a new meal plan for me, and I’m happy to say that it’s better than the one we had in Vancouver. There’s much more variety, and—thankfully—flavor in his suggested meals. I spend an hour in my kitchen putting everything together before sitting at my dining table and staring at my plate.

I need to eat, but talking to my brothers and thinking of home always kills my appetite. Thankfully, once I force myself to start, I actually enjoy it. And my evening gets a little more positive when my cell dings with an incoming message from the guy I connected with on the hook-up app I use.

A rare, genuine smile plays on my lips as I open the message. His username might be unoriginal, but there’s something about him. Not enough to set up a meet, but enough to keep me interested and keep the messaging flowing.

HotScore: Have you had a good day? Any naked men I need to know about?

8

GARRETT

Ikeep my eyes on the screen, waiting to see if I’ll get a reply.

I shouldn’t be sending a message now, and I feel bad, but I can’t help myself.

After him canceling on me twice, I’ve finally managed to meet up with Darcy. But, I have to admit, I think it’s better to hang out with someone else, even if it's just over a message.

Darcy is stressed, he’s unfocused, and I’m pretty sure he wants to be anywhere but here with me right now.

But whatever is going on with him, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. So here we are, sitting in a bar, forcing conversation.

It wasn’t like this the last couple of times. The first was incredible; we both got more than we wanted that night. And New Year’s Eve was a blast, until a rollercoaster decided to take me for a ride and flipped everything I thought I knew upside down.

Now, as I sit here with Darcy, who is incredibly hot and clearly dealing with some shit, all I can think about—still—is Nash and that storage closet.

Well, there’s him and the guy I’ve found online, but it’s hard to obsess over someone when all I have to go on is a profile picture showing tats and abs, and a few flirty messages.

But that doesn’t stop me from pulling my cell from my pocket the second Darcy excuses himself to the bathroom.

Yeah, I’m an asshole. But I can’t help it.

RoughingTheModel: Sadly not. I am working on a few things, though. If you’re lucky, I might share them with you when I’m done.

HotScore: I’m not one to turn down a good time

RoughingTheModel: Good to know. What are you doing this evening?

As much as I’d like to believe he’s asking me so I can make him my plans, I have a feeling it’s not the case. We’ve been chatting for over a week now and we haven’t had a single conversation that involves us meeting in person. Sure, I’m a little disappointed with that—this is a hook-up app, after all. But honestly, I’m having a lot of fun messaging him, so I’m okay with taking it slow right now.

HotScore: Out with a friend.

It’s the truth. Whatever is going on with Darcy and me tonight, it isn’t a date. I can’t see it leading to a repeat of our first time together. His head just isn’t in it.

RoughingTheModel: And yet you’re messaging me?