Matt showed up to school Monday with a black eye, delivering an apology with Luke at my side, our first day as friends within the halls of Briar High.
Luke became my rock, and I, his, each keeping the other afloat when the floodwaters came pouring in. Mom’s cancer got worse before it got better, and Dad grew more distant by the day. It was as if the Roberts weren’t a family anymore, just a revolving door of suffering.
Luke had his own demons, ones he rarely spoke of, listening as I cried, stroking my hair on the dock as the waves rolled in.
As time went on, we spent time with his family, a household whose only sin in Briar was allowing their daughter to marry a Barrett. But they were good people, a family that offered warmth and kindness to everyone.
At the peak of Mom’s illness, his Pops passed unexpectedly, threatening to spiral us all into the abyss. By then, we were more than friends, occasional flirting leading to a love that still haunted me no matter how much I denied it.
Nothing could rattle us, and nothing couldn’t be solved without a night on the dock, baring it all to one another, scars and all. It had been so long since I had that relief, that sense of right in the world.
All I had left was a rogue river of tears crashing down in an angry current, ready to sweep me away. Pain, fear, and uncertainty combined in a toxic sludge, too thick to tread for long.
I cried myself to sleep that night, needing a Luke talk more than ever.
Luke
Thirteen days.
It’d been thirteen days since I’d had sex, and I was falling apart. I wasn’t even sure I had a dick anymore.
It left me sweating like any fever with a mind so scrambled that focusing on anything was impossible, the cum buildup cutting off blood flow in the pipeline.
Everywhere I looked, there was sex.
Tailpipe pussies.
Headlight titties.
Tight screws and loads of lube.
Worst of all, I had plenty of medicine available with a text, but I didn’t want it.
I wanted a poison instead, one with wavy blonde hair and a tight ass. An ass I saw all too much of during her early morning yoga sessions in the backyard, bending in ways that looked more like sex positions than exercises.
Combined with the lack of sin cave diving, I was a walking accident, injuring myself in the shop like a rookie under the hood, so much so I stuck to the office, focused on interviewing.
Stepping out of the shop sucked, but it was necessary to focus on the brewery. I’d still manage the business, but I couldn’t wear as many hats anymore. There weren’t enough hours in the day.
I forgot to pick up food for the coming weekend, my kitchen bare except for microwave dinners and beer. While I was okay with it, my family would be less than pleased with the offerings, especially health nut Jason, so I grabbed a little of everything. Rice. Beans. Steak. Chicken. Chocolate.
I was out of my element, standing taller than most shelves and navigating the tiny thing they called a cart with a hunched back. I usually grabbed groceries from the fish or farmer's market, but lately, bulk buying frozen dinners became the norm, carrying stacks across the store and shunning carts entirely. I wasn't home enough to worry about cooking, the shop and brewery gobbling up my days.
I rounded the corner into the bread and pastry aisle to grab Elena goodies. She loved muffins, so fresh ones were a must, along with whoopie pies, an area staple. As sweet as Jason was bitter, my future sister-in-law deserved the stars for putting up with my moody elder sibling.
Maybe sweets could satiate my appetite for something sinful, too, the best ass on Anderson Inlet Lane no longer mine.
My prayers were answered as I looked from bread to literal buns, a glorious ass tilted high at the end of the aisle. Denim shorts showed off long, sculpted muscles, the woman wearing them bent over studying donuts.
My cock instantly sprang to life, the limp noodle streak broken. I bit my lip, continuing along slowly, hopeful the pussy drought would end with those gorgeous gams around my waist.
Better yet, my face.
She straightened, her snug yellow t-shirt riding up, a quick tug hiding the tanned skin of her lower back. She turned, still focused on the display, a thick ponytail of blonde waves revealing the identity of the cock tease.
“Goddamn it,” I muttered.
She hadn’t seen me, but I had a great view of her, that rounded ass hugged tightly as she bent to scan the shelves again. As much as I knew I should bolt, it was too good of an opportunity to ignore.
I strolled over and crashed my cart into hers, banging the metal into the shelving with a loud crack.
She yelped and jumped, knocking over boxes of donuts as she spun to face me with her mouth agape. “What is wrong with you?” she screeched, bending to grab the fallen pastries, stuffing them back on the shelf. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”
“Who the fuck goes grocery shopping in cut-offs?”
“Language!” she hissed, straightening with her eyes like slits.
“Okay, since when does Josie Motherfuckin’ Roberts care about language?” I shot back, using her teenage moniker for herself.
A little boy popped his head around from the other side of the display. The same boy I’d seen with her at the cottage. He bit his lip, an identical wild thicket of blond atop his head. “Mommy, I want to go home.”
Holy shit.
Josie had a kid.
A kid with a full set of teeth and the ability to form complete sentences.
It wasn't a cousin or a friend. It was a human she grew and birthed.
She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him close. “It’s okay, Linc. This is my friend from when I was little. His name is Luke.”
His lips twisted as he thought, just as hers always did.
I stared at
